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The Corner, Chapter 9/?
Author: lady_Razzle
Pairings: Jack/Ianto Jack/Ten Ianto/Ten, Ianto/others
Summary: The only thing waiting in the dark is what you take in with you.
Warnings/AN: Spoilers to end of series. Most canon pairings referenced. There will be angst, and the shifting of time.
Disclaimer: Sue me, do I not bleed?
Betad by my valentine, curious_wolf.
Previous Chapters: Here
Download: Garbage: Sex is not the Enemy
Chapter 9
The Doctor turned up around 3am. Jack was wired and had no intention of sleeping. The Doctor strolled into the hub with no more trouble than if it had been a tourist shop full of leek-flavoured tat.
Gwen went for her gun at the sight of a pinstriped stranger wandering into their inner sanctum but Jack stopped her in her tracks.
“He’s with me,” Jack had said, pulling them up short and trotting down to meet him. “This is the man responsible for my being here, my leaving and my being here again,” he declared. “This is The Doctor.”
The Doctor smiled at the girls and turned to Jack.
“Cardiff got weird,” he observed.
“Yeah, a while ago,” Jack agreed. “These lovely ladies are Gwen and Tosh, my superwomen,” Jack went on.
The Doctor regained his manners and grinned widely, shaking each girl’s hand enthusiastically.
“Do I know you?” he asked Tosh, who shook her head mutely. The Doctor squinted at her for a few moments, then grinned and continued. “I’m not kidding,” he said. “The twenty-first century hit Cardiff like a brick. They keep moving stuff!”
“There’re maps upstairs,” Tosh said. “In reception. Um…if you want them.”
The Doctor smiled oddly at her again. It was Tosh’s pleasure to educate The Doctor in the intimate details of Cardiff’s recent history.
“I knew he’d like her,” Jack told Gwen. His smile faded slightly. “I hope she doesn’t run off with him. She’d be impossible to replace.”
“At least Tosh would give us decent warning,” Gwen said, by way of reprimand.
“I’m not going to keep apologising,” Jack said, merely stating a fact. “One apology per member of the team. I fuck up a lot and I need to keep a few in credit,” he added with a grin. He had at least two that he needed to save.
Gwen fell asleep under Jack’s arm, cuddled up to him possessively. Jack let her sleep. He did feel extremely guilty for the hurt he had caused, but he was unbearably tense. There was friction in the air as they awaited the completion of their merry band.
Owen was remarkably calm, when he added to their number at about 6am. He wasn’t angry. He didn’t even seem surprised that Jack had returned. Jack jolted Gwen awake while getting to his feet. Owen shook his hand. It was an extraordinary response and far from the one Jack expected.
“Welcome back,” Owen said, his hand sitting comfortably in Jack’s.
“Thanks, Owen,” Jack said, his shock clearly audible. “I thought you’d be putting down roots already.”
Owen shook his head slowly.
“Why bother?” Owen asked, not really joking. “The minute I got my feet under the table, you’d fucking turn up.”
Jack grinned. He didn’t argue. It was probably true.
Jack caught Owen looking curiously in The Doctor’s direction and clapped him on the back, guiding him to meet his friend. The Doctor looked a little confused as they approached, and relieved as Owen was introduced. When Owen had finished making highly suspicious and searching small talk, he left the mildly uncomfortable situation and went to speak to Tosh.
Gwen had curled back up on the sofa and was asleep again. Tosh couldn’t keep her eyes off Jack for long and with each glance, Jack felt a pang of guilt, knowing her expectation of looking up and seeing him gone was, apparently, wholly justified.
“That’s a relief, I thought your standards had really slipped,” The Doctor said quietly, once Owen was a safe distance away.
“How so?” Jack asked, rather lost.
“Well, you looked pleased to see him, it might have been…” The Doctor started to explain.
“Oh, no!” Jack said firmly, causing Tosh and Owen to look up for a moment and Gwen to snuffle in her shallow sleep. “No,” Jack said, more quietly, grinning and waving a hand toward the startled members of the team to dismiss their worries.
“No, Owen’s a decent guy but… No. He’s actually about as far from Ianto as you can get,” he added thoughtfully.
“Good,” The Doctor said. “I am really intrigued, you know,” he added. “I can’t wait for you to produce this super-human love machine that’s keeping you pinging back to Earth like you’re on elastic.”
A distracted smile spread over The Doctor’s face. He liked elastic, to an extent that Jack thought was slightly abnormal. The Doctor wished he had more uses for it in the TARDIS, but it had turned out to be a poor conductor of the space/time continuum and he had to restrict himself to its usage in a storage capacity.
“That’s Ianto.”
The tone of Jack’s voice, the relief, the shake, the breathless anxiety, pulled the Doctor from his rubber reverie and back to Jack.
Jack was smiling his best, most honest smile, full of hope, looking up past The Doctor’s shoulder.
The Doctor turned toward the entrance. Was this the man who had distracted Jack from the entire universe? Black leather boots with army pants tucked in and a long, leather greatcoat starting below his knees and shrouding his lean frame led all the way up to a face that, in its expression of mild surprise, was frighteningly familiar.
The Doctor’s face fell.
#
This was an unusual position for The Doctor. He lacked the limitations that the majority of 21st century humans still held, but neither could he fully embrace the full scope of Jack’s century and the near limitless sexual expression of his peers.
Jack, The Doctor had discovered, was actually reasonably restrained in comparison to others of his acquaintance. But some of Jack must have rubbed off on The Doctor, presumably while The Doctor was rubbing him off, because he was taking this one on trust. And oh, but he did take this one.
The headboard screamed objection to its mistreatment, but The Doctor didn’t let go. It was his anchor, a little stability in a world of spiralling stimulation. His partner’s hands were pressed hard against the wall, leaving greasy smears on the pale blue paint each time his fingers shifted. That was each time he pushed against the wall to jerk back, meeting the firm forward thrust that accompanied each of The Doctor’s death grips of the headboard, pulling against it to slam into the kneeling, needful, sweating, shaking body beneath him.
This was definitely different, an unfamiliar body, unfamiliar sounds of pleasure, pleas and surprise. The Doctor was deep inside him, really deep, and it was all so serious.
Sex was so often a plaything, a pastime, something jovial and unimportant. Something shallow. But The Doctor couldn’t help but become lost in this, the divine task of bringing pleasure.
He was buried; consumed; cherishing each moan and long, low, smooth cry of encouragement.
The Doctor lifted a hand from the headboard and through the sheen of sweat, drew it down his partner’s lightly furred, faintly scarred back. The hand slowed him in his eager, jerking movements that let him fuck himself on The Doctor’s cock. The oddness of the situation was dulling in reaction to its advantages. Namely, the exquisite sight of his cock sliding into toned, responsive warmth.
There was nothing deferential about his partner and that, too, made a change that was remarkably refreshing. This body bent and shook and pursued its own pleasure with utter, unreserved shamelessness.
The Doctor pushed his hands into the young man’s back, pressing just hard enough to stop him moving.
“Hold on, boy,” he said, surprised at himself when his voice was, instead of its usual confident self, a rather cracked whisper of effort, heavy with desire. “Slow down, let me look at you.”
A dark head dipped momentarily between strained shoulders. The Doctor ran his hands up and down the smooth, toned sides of his vessel’s slender frame, fingers digging into his backside.
“What do you expect to see?” came an equally strained reply, as The Doctor ran his hands up to the small of a warm, damp back. The Doctor grinned, slid his hands around to hold the tight body close, making him gasp again as he was, once again, made exquisitely full.
“Stars, possibly?” The Doctor teased. His beautiful demanding creature laughed breathlessly as The Doctor returned to movement, increasing in speed, in confidence, in force as the answering grunts and gasps spurred him on and on and on.
The Doctor’s knees were tucked in right behind his partner’s, his chest mapped to that much-admired back.
“I might have to keep a hold of you,” The Doctor said quietly, really just thinking out loud.
“You’d be the first,” came the sarcastic, panted reply, with head tilted back and half a laugh, that turned, as he did, to become a deep, messy kiss and the shiver of intense stimulation. .
The Doctor’s hands met Ianto’s cock and Ianto bucked up into the touch. This was a heaven of mindlessness.
TBC…