Part 3/13 - Hatful of Hollow
Title: Hatful of Hollow (Part 3 of 13)
Disclaimer: I'm not RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. Life is hard.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sexuality.
Notes: Takes place just before "Greeks Bearing Gifts" and is intended to fill in the gaps re: Jack/Ianto. Title refers the Smiths album that inspired this mess. Constructive criticism, comments, chocolate, and good coffee welcomed. Unbeta-ed, because that is apparently how I roll.
Part One is Here.
Part Two is Here.
Ianto smirked and tugged playfully at Jack's belt. "This needs to come off."
Jack was all too happy to comply. He undid his belt and trouser buttons while Ianto unlaced and removed Jack's boots. With a quick movement, Jack kicked the whole affair off into a pile on the floor.
How long had it been? He'd actually begun trying to do the figures in his head when Ianto's hands began to wander. It made coherent thought -- or at least maths -- virtually impossible. He settled on "too long" as rough estimate, then returned his attention the very naked Welshman gripping him. He watched as Ianto licked his lips and slid into a kneeling position on the floor. Taking the hint, Jack arranged himself into a wide-legged sit and leaned back. Ianto's breath was warm as he ran a trail of kisses up the inside of Jack's leg to his groin. Jack wasn't sure what he liked better: the stroking and squeezing, or the anticipation that Ianto was about to take him into that very pretty mouth of his.
Ianto peered up at Jack from under his dark lashes. He smiled so sweetly that Jack almost swore. This was Ianto? Quiet, precise, Ianto? It was crazy. And yet, in a way, it made perfect sense. And even if it didn't, Jack couldn't quite bring himself to argue. If things went sideways, there was always Retcon. Jack could see that the younger man was stroking himself as well, just out of sight. That realization almost broke him right then and there.
Jack's breath caught in his throat as Ianto took the tip of Jack's erection into his mouth and began to suck gently. He still grasped the rest of Jack's penis in one hand, and ran his thumb up and down the underside of the shaft. Jack dug his fingernails into the cushions and writhed in time with Ianto's ministrations, arching his pelvis. In response, Ianto began to take more and more of Jack into his mouth with each downstroke. Jack hissed and groaned as Ianto took him in completely.
It was a good night to be Captain Jack Harkness.
Jack ran his fingers through the other man's hair, careful not to grip. Careful not to force. He'd had lovers who'd asked for that sort of treatment, but Ianto hadn't. And even if he had, he couldn't see wanting to do that tonight. Not under a fragile truce with a man who'd been hurt so badly. As if to underline that thought, he found himself gently tracing one of the bruises on Ianto's shoulder.
Jack cupped Ianto's face in his hands and leaned down for a kiss. He could taste himself in that kiss a little bit already, though that was hardly surprising considering that he could also taste trace amounts of oestrogen in rain (and other things besides). And then he was on top of Ianto, pinning him to the cool concrete floor.
"I take it I was doing something right," Ianto chuckled.
"Come to bed with me," Jack purred into his neck.
"You wouldn't rather have me on the floor?"
"Maybe later," Jack grinned. "Call me old-fashioned, but right now I'd like to do things properly."
"Shall I bring our clothes with us, sir?" Ianto asked, finally noticing the apparent maelstrom that had hit this corner of the Hub.
"I'll get them later," Jack said softly, kissing Ianto again. "Come on."
Jack was the first down the ladder into the space below his office. It wasn't much down here -- just a camp bed, a cheap flatpack dresser, a lamp, and a small antique trunk -- but it was Jack's most personal space. He watched Ianto descend the ladder and admired the younger man's body before drawing him into his arms and laying him down on the camp bed. Jack knelt over him.
"You look surprised."
"I am a little," Ianto admitted. His back arched as Jack's hand stroked his belly and into the nest of his pubic hair and cupped him.
"Disappointed?"
The other man shook his head, returning the favor by stroking Jack with his free hand.
"So what, then?"
"Just stunned, mostly. It's very," Ianto struggled for a moment to find the right word. "Intimate."
"You mean cramped," Jack laughed.
"Mmm," Ianto hummed, relaxing into Jack's touch. "That as well."
"So what, then?" Jack studied Ianto's face as the younger man looked around the room.
"I'm not sure. I think maybe it's more naked than I expected."
"Is that a problem?" Jack asked, smirking a bit at Ianto's choice of words.
"I don't think so, no."
"Good."
Jack kissed Ianto hard. Their hands became more frantic as their tongues and lips tangled. This was good, he thought. Ianto moaned beneath him. They were both starting to get close. Ianto's breath was coming in jerking gasps, and his head was thrown back. Jack briefly considered bringing Ianto off this way. Just touching and kissing him until he came. It would be satisfying, and also something they could walk away from without too much embarassment.
Instead, Jack slid down and straddled Ianto's shins and ran his hands up to the other man's hips. Ianto's eyelids fluttered as Jack's mouth explored his thighs and stomach. Jack stroked Ianto's belly and hips and the insides of his thighs. And then, with the lightest touch of his tongue, he lapped at the head of Ianto's penis. Ianto gasped. Jack grinned, then gave Ianto another feathery, almost imperceptible lick. The younger man bucked involutarily, but Jack pinned him, denying him release.
"Jack, please. I'm so close."
"Patience," Jack whispered against Ianto's straining erection. "Feel under my pillow. Hand me what you find there."
Ianto put a frantic hand under the pillow. Within seconds, he'd produced a small tube of lubricant. Jack took it with his right hand and snapped the cap open with his thumb. At the same time, he released Ianto's legs and spread them wide, crouching between his knees. Jack dripped some lube onto Ianto's tip, a drop at a time, watching him writhe.
"Jack." Ianto rasped. "Oh fuck. Jack." he pled.
Jack drizzed some lube onto his own fingers. With his left thumb, he pressed the tip of Ianto's cock, sliding across it in a forward motion. It slid freely through the pool of lube and pre-cum before circling the tip. With a slow but decisive stroke, Jack ran his fist down Ianto's length. He moved his hands slowly, arrythmically, enjoying the other man's moans of desperation, penetrating him first with one finger, then another. Jack watched Ianto's muscles tense as he tried to follow both sensations, to intensify them, to make them continue.
"If I fuck you, Ianto, will you come for me?" Jack purred. Ianto made a pleading sound in his throat.
"That's not an answer, Ianto."
"Jack. Fuck me."
"And what will you do for me when I fuck you, Ianto?"
"Come," he whimpered, grinding between Jack's teasing hands.
Jack growled and turned Ianto onto his side, insinuating himself along the pale man's body. He took a condom from the top drawer of the flatpack dresser, then pressed himself into a spoon against Ianto, inviting the other man to bear down and accept him. Ianto let forth a guttural moan as the two men established a rhythm.
# # #
Ianto awoke with a start. He was somewhere dark and unfamiliar. And he was naked.
There was a note on the flatpack dresser. He picked it up and squinted at it in the half-light. "Ianto," he read aloud. "Texted the others, told them to come in late. Found your spare suit. Back soon. Jack." Sure enough, his spare suit was laid out on the trunk, next to a brown paper bag. The bag contained a few basic toiletries, a towel, and a pair of soft flannel pajama pants, all from a nearby shop.
He tugged the pajama pants on before gathering up the suit and bag. He bundled it together and held it tightly against his chest as he climbed the ladder into Jack's office. He paused halfway up the ladder to listen for footsteps or other noises from the Hub. When he'd satisfied himself that he was alone, he emerged.
The first order of business would be a shower, during which he would shave. Once he was clean, he'd get dressed, and make some coffee. After that, he would check to make sure the batch files were running on Tosh's alien language project. Beyond that, well, this was Torchwood. There was always something.
Torchwood's locker room facilities were antiquated, with a spotty maintenance history. Torchwood, it seemed, did not hire plumbers. Like the rest of the complex, it was a hodge-podge of Victorian and later materials and styling cues. The space was unisex, having been completed before anyone had dreamt too seriously of women as field agents. The only concession to modesty was a blue-green glass divider concealing the three rear showers. This had clearly been added much later -- probably in the 1940s -- and still didn't leave a great deal to the imagination, depending on where one stood.
Ianto left his clean clothes and pajama pants folded on a bench in the changing area and wrapped the towel around his waist. He entered the group shower, paper bag in hand. He twisted an ancient-looking spigot, and one of the showers sputtered and sprayed.
# # #
He was just finishing up the coffee when the door alerts began to sound. He peered down from the walkway to see Jack and Tosh.
"Morning, Ianto!" she called up to him.
He smiled and gave her a friendly nod, then turned his attention to Jack. Jack who was, this very moment, walking toward him with a bag of shopping.
"Morning, Jack." He tried very hard not to blush.
"Ianto. Can you come help me with this?"
"Of course, sir," he answered and followed Jack into the conference room. Without asking, he began helping sort through the bagels and juice, separating things that could stay out from things that needed to move to the refrigerator in the kitchenette.
"I see you found the note." Jack did not look up as he spoke, but turned instead to make adjustments to the display console.
"I did. Thank you." Ianto shoved his hands into his pockets and watched as Jack tweaked the same three settings for a fourth time. "Far be it from me to make this determination, sir, but I believe you had the contrast just about right two tries ago."
Jack burst out laughing. "Nothing escapes you, does it, Ianto Jones?"
Ianto smiled wanly and held his tongue. An honest answer was a painful answer in this instance.
Jack's expression changed immediately. He took two steps and touched Ianto's shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by his phone.
"Go on then." Ianto carried the juice and milk into the kitchenette. Within a few minutes, Jack joined him.
"Well that's interesting. Gwen just got a call from Andy Davidson. He says someone's found a weird device on a building site. And a body."
Ianto raised his eyebrows. "Well, then. I'll go prep the SUV."
"Thanks. Oh, and Ianto?"
"Yes sir?" He turned to face Jack.
"Don't you dare lose me. Whatever happens, don't let me go."
===
Prev. Ep: 2/13
Next Ep: 4/13
Disclaimer: I'm not RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. Life is hard.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sexuality.
Notes: Takes place just before "Greeks Bearing Gifts" and is intended to fill in the gaps re: Jack/Ianto. Title refers the Smiths album that inspired this mess. Constructive criticism, comments, chocolate, and good coffee welcomed. Unbeta-ed, because that is apparently how I roll.
Part One is Here.
Part Two is Here.
Ianto smirked and tugged playfully at Jack's belt. "This needs to come off."
Jack was all too happy to comply. He undid his belt and trouser buttons while Ianto unlaced and removed Jack's boots. With a quick movement, Jack kicked the whole affair off into a pile on the floor.
How long had it been? He'd actually begun trying to do the figures in his head when Ianto's hands began to wander. It made coherent thought -- or at least maths -- virtually impossible. He settled on "too long" as rough estimate, then returned his attention the very naked Welshman gripping him. He watched as Ianto licked his lips and slid into a kneeling position on the floor. Taking the hint, Jack arranged himself into a wide-legged sit and leaned back. Ianto's breath was warm as he ran a trail of kisses up the inside of Jack's leg to his groin. Jack wasn't sure what he liked better: the stroking and squeezing, or the anticipation that Ianto was about to take him into that very pretty mouth of his.
Ianto peered up at Jack from under his dark lashes. He smiled so sweetly that Jack almost swore. This was Ianto? Quiet, precise, Ianto? It was crazy. And yet, in a way, it made perfect sense. And even if it didn't, Jack couldn't quite bring himself to argue. If things went sideways, there was always Retcon. Jack could see that the younger man was stroking himself as well, just out of sight. That realization almost broke him right then and there.
Jack's breath caught in his throat as Ianto took the tip of Jack's erection into his mouth and began to suck gently. He still grasped the rest of Jack's penis in one hand, and ran his thumb up and down the underside of the shaft. Jack dug his fingernails into the cushions and writhed in time with Ianto's ministrations, arching his pelvis. In response, Ianto began to take more and more of Jack into his mouth with each downstroke. Jack hissed and groaned as Ianto took him in completely.
It was a good night to be Captain Jack Harkness.
Jack ran his fingers through the other man's hair, careful not to grip. Careful not to force. He'd had lovers who'd asked for that sort of treatment, but Ianto hadn't. And even if he had, he couldn't see wanting to do that tonight. Not under a fragile truce with a man who'd been hurt so badly. As if to underline that thought, he found himself gently tracing one of the bruises on Ianto's shoulder.
Jack cupped Ianto's face in his hands and leaned down for a kiss. He could taste himself in that kiss a little bit already, though that was hardly surprising considering that he could also taste trace amounts of oestrogen in rain (and other things besides). And then he was on top of Ianto, pinning him to the cool concrete floor.
"I take it I was doing something right," Ianto chuckled.
"Come to bed with me," Jack purred into his neck.
"You wouldn't rather have me on the floor?"
"Maybe later," Jack grinned. "Call me old-fashioned, but right now I'd like to do things properly."
"Shall I bring our clothes with us, sir?" Ianto asked, finally noticing the apparent maelstrom that had hit this corner of the Hub.
"I'll get them later," Jack said softly, kissing Ianto again. "Come on."
Jack was the first down the ladder into the space below his office. It wasn't much down here -- just a camp bed, a cheap flatpack dresser, a lamp, and a small antique trunk -- but it was Jack's most personal space. He watched Ianto descend the ladder and admired the younger man's body before drawing him into his arms and laying him down on the camp bed. Jack knelt over him.
"You look surprised."
"I am a little," Ianto admitted. His back arched as Jack's hand stroked his belly and into the nest of his pubic hair and cupped him.
"Disappointed?"
The other man shook his head, returning the favor by stroking Jack with his free hand.
"So what, then?"
"Just stunned, mostly. It's very," Ianto struggled for a moment to find the right word. "Intimate."
"You mean cramped," Jack laughed.
"Mmm," Ianto hummed, relaxing into Jack's touch. "That as well."
"So what, then?" Jack studied Ianto's face as the younger man looked around the room.
"I'm not sure. I think maybe it's more naked than I expected."
"Is that a problem?" Jack asked, smirking a bit at Ianto's choice of words.
"I don't think so, no."
"Good."
Jack kissed Ianto hard. Their hands became more frantic as their tongues and lips tangled. This was good, he thought. Ianto moaned beneath him. They were both starting to get close. Ianto's breath was coming in jerking gasps, and his head was thrown back. Jack briefly considered bringing Ianto off this way. Just touching and kissing him until he came. It would be satisfying, and also something they could walk away from without too much embarassment.
Instead, Jack slid down and straddled Ianto's shins and ran his hands up to the other man's hips. Ianto's eyelids fluttered as Jack's mouth explored his thighs and stomach. Jack stroked Ianto's belly and hips and the insides of his thighs. And then, with the lightest touch of his tongue, he lapped at the head of Ianto's penis. Ianto gasped. Jack grinned, then gave Ianto another feathery, almost imperceptible lick. The younger man bucked involutarily, but Jack pinned him, denying him release.
"Jack, please. I'm so close."
"Patience," Jack whispered against Ianto's straining erection. "Feel under my pillow. Hand me what you find there."
Ianto put a frantic hand under the pillow. Within seconds, he'd produced a small tube of lubricant. Jack took it with his right hand and snapped the cap open with his thumb. At the same time, he released Ianto's legs and spread them wide, crouching between his knees. Jack dripped some lube onto Ianto's tip, a drop at a time, watching him writhe.
"Jack." Ianto rasped. "Oh fuck. Jack." he pled.
Jack drizzed some lube onto his own fingers. With his left thumb, he pressed the tip of Ianto's cock, sliding across it in a forward motion. It slid freely through the pool of lube and pre-cum before circling the tip. With a slow but decisive stroke, Jack ran his fist down Ianto's length. He moved his hands slowly, arrythmically, enjoying the other man's moans of desperation, penetrating him first with one finger, then another. Jack watched Ianto's muscles tense as he tried to follow both sensations, to intensify them, to make them continue.
"If I fuck you, Ianto, will you come for me?" Jack purred. Ianto made a pleading sound in his throat.
"That's not an answer, Ianto."
"Jack. Fuck me."
"And what will you do for me when I fuck you, Ianto?"
"Come," he whimpered, grinding between Jack's teasing hands.
Jack growled and turned Ianto onto his side, insinuating himself along the pale man's body. He took a condom from the top drawer of the flatpack dresser, then pressed himself into a spoon against Ianto, inviting the other man to bear down and accept him. Ianto let forth a guttural moan as the two men established a rhythm.
# # #
Ianto awoke with a start. He was somewhere dark and unfamiliar. And he was naked.
There was a note on the flatpack dresser. He picked it up and squinted at it in the half-light. "Ianto," he read aloud. "Texted the others, told them to come in late. Found your spare suit. Back soon. Jack." Sure enough, his spare suit was laid out on the trunk, next to a brown paper bag. The bag contained a few basic toiletries, a towel, and a pair of soft flannel pajama pants, all from a nearby shop.
He tugged the pajama pants on before gathering up the suit and bag. He bundled it together and held it tightly against his chest as he climbed the ladder into Jack's office. He paused halfway up the ladder to listen for footsteps or other noises from the Hub. When he'd satisfied himself that he was alone, he emerged.
The first order of business would be a shower, during which he would shave. Once he was clean, he'd get dressed, and make some coffee. After that, he would check to make sure the batch files were running on Tosh's alien language project. Beyond that, well, this was Torchwood. There was always something.
Torchwood's locker room facilities were antiquated, with a spotty maintenance history. Torchwood, it seemed, did not hire plumbers. Like the rest of the complex, it was a hodge-podge of Victorian and later materials and styling cues. The space was unisex, having been completed before anyone had dreamt too seriously of women as field agents. The only concession to modesty was a blue-green glass divider concealing the three rear showers. This had clearly been added much later -- probably in the 1940s -- and still didn't leave a great deal to the imagination, depending on where one stood.
Ianto left his clean clothes and pajama pants folded on a bench in the changing area and wrapped the towel around his waist. He entered the group shower, paper bag in hand. He twisted an ancient-looking spigot, and one of the showers sputtered and sprayed.
# # #
He was just finishing up the coffee when the door alerts began to sound. He peered down from the walkway to see Jack and Tosh.
"Morning, Ianto!" she called up to him.
He smiled and gave her a friendly nod, then turned his attention to Jack. Jack who was, this very moment, walking toward him with a bag of shopping.
"Morning, Jack." He tried very hard not to blush.
"Ianto. Can you come help me with this?"
"Of course, sir," he answered and followed Jack into the conference room. Without asking, he began helping sort through the bagels and juice, separating things that could stay out from things that needed to move to the refrigerator in the kitchenette.
"I see you found the note." Jack did not look up as he spoke, but turned instead to make adjustments to the display console.
"I did. Thank you." Ianto shoved his hands into his pockets and watched as Jack tweaked the same three settings for a fourth time. "Far be it from me to make this determination, sir, but I believe you had the contrast just about right two tries ago."
Jack burst out laughing. "Nothing escapes you, does it, Ianto Jones?"
Ianto smiled wanly and held his tongue. An honest answer was a painful answer in this instance.
Jack's expression changed immediately. He took two steps and touched Ianto's shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by his phone.
"Go on then." Ianto carried the juice and milk into the kitchenette. Within a few minutes, Jack joined him.
"Well that's interesting. Gwen just got a call from Andy Davidson. He says someone's found a weird device on a building site. And a body."
Ianto raised his eyebrows. "Well, then. I'll go prep the SUV."
"Thanks. Oh, and Ianto?"
"Yes sir?" He turned to face Jack.
"Don't you dare lose me. Whatever happens, don't let me go."
===
Prev. Ep: 2/13
Next Ep: 4/13