FIC: "Trial Period," Jack/Ianto, NC-17
Title: Trial Period
Author: missviolet
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: PWP - explicit gay sex here, but you probably knew that!
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Russell T. Davies, BBC, et. al. No infringement or disrespect intended.
Summary: During Ianto's first few weeks as part of the Torchwood team, Jack provides specialized training and more.
Author's Notes: After a long absence, I'm diving back into slash fiction.
Jack is pleased with his marksmanship. On his first day at the Hub, they spend the better part of an afternoon at the firing range, where Ianto proves himself a crack shot. Ianto is careful to control his breathing, not to give himself away, but his fingertips tingle when Jack corrects his posture or hand placement. He knows the Captain relishes the excuse to touch him. After several hours, Ianto has passed all tests with flying colors and is graded by Jack as an expert marksman.
He is less proficient with hand-to-hand combat. Ianto is a tough brawler, to be sure, but he lacks the tactical maneuvers of a professional. He also needs to be trained to capture as well as to kill when necessary. He spends the next several weeks with Jack, learning the art of combat. Owen and Suzie drop in about once a week, to keep their skills fresh, and together they work on group exercises. Tosh opts out of Torchwood's martial program though she is, like all of them, an expert marksman. Jack insists this of his team.
Ianto is a fast learner. With Jack's dedicated tutoring, in six weeks' time, he can spar with Jack and hold his own for a few minutes. He's learned how to fight on the ground, how to disarm guns and knives, and how to control an assailant without damaging him. One hot muggy morning, Jack tests his skills in the small gymnasium on the lower deck of the Hub. Ianto wears a track suit, Jack an old-fashioned gym uniform of white shorts and a polo shirt with a canary yellow stripe. He's wearing knee socks, and Ianto wonders at Jack's preference for old-timey clothes. The braces, the great-coat, and now this Edwardian athletic ensemble. On anyone else, it would look straight-laced and stodgy, but Jack somehow manages to make his outdated clothing look dashing and romantic.
They circle around each other, exchanging blows, warming each other up with strikes to the body. Jack demonstrates several different ways to choke a person into unconsciousness without causing permanent harm. Ianto practices on Jack, stopping when he taps out so Jack doesn't lose consciousness. Not that it would be fatal, as Ianto knows from reading Jack's personnel file.
Jack gives an impromptu demonstration of improvised weapons, using his wallet, a jacket, and a hat to disarm Ianto's knife attacks. Ianto tries out a few of these unconventional tactics before Jack says, "Let's finish with you on the ground." He walks up to Ianto and drops him with alarming efficiency. He simply rotates Ianto's shoulder, throws him over his outstretched leg, and takes a large step. Ianto falls to the floor like a rag doll. He knows how to land without hurting himself, and even how to be strategic in falling. Right before he hits the floor, he latches hold of Jack's ankle, using his falling body weight to force it to buckle and dropping Jack to the floor beside him.
"Nice," Jack pants, as he crawls to cover him. They wrestle, and Ianto's learned to be slippery. Jack can't get a hold of him; somehow he is always just out of reach. He finally drops his body weight abruptly and, by a stroke of luck, pins Ianto beneath him. He quickly locks Ianto's arm, cranks it just enough to be uncomfortable. Ianto knows he's beat but he's still proud of himself for giving Jack a good run. He's made him break a sweat, which has never happened before. There is a light sheen on his forearms and across his brow. Jack's out-of-breath. He applies a little more pressure, and finally Ianto taps out. They rise, and Jack takes an old-fashioned handkerchief out of his pocket and mops his face.
"Well done," says Jack, patting him on the shoulder. "Let's continue tomorrow. I'm a little worn-out." Jack heads for the showers and Ianto knows that there's nothing to stop him from following. What could be more natural than showering after a workout on a hot day? But he's afraid of what might happen, of what he might do if he saw Jack's naked body under the hot spray. Would he stand and stare like an oaf? Would his cock betray him with a massive hard-on? It was better not to risk it.
He heads to the locker room and sits on the wooden bench. He's been rolling with Jack and he smells like him, that lemony musky smell that is so appealing. 51st century pheromones, Jack called it. Ianto isn't sure if that was why he craves Jack so. He suspects that Jack's devilish smile, his deep blue eyes and broad shoulders have something to do with it as well. But he certainly doesn't mind the way Jack smells, and the fact that his scent lingers on him excites him so. Ianto doesn't want to shower. He wants to lie in bed and inhale the fragrance of Jack on his own skin.
He mumbles some excuse to Suzie and Tosh about taking in the laundry, and grabs a laundry bag. The hamper is only half-full and it's mostly Jack's clothes. For reasons of security, a top-secret waste disposal facility launders Owen's scrubs. Ianto fills the bag and tosses it into the back of the SUV. The launderer is near his flat and he intends to stop home first. He tells himself it's merely to shower and change but a hot thrill runs through his body when he thinks of what he is about to do.
On a whim, looks in the laundry bag to see what Jack has dirtied up this week. The first thing he sees is that gym-suit shirt with the canary yellow stripe that Jack had worn earlier in the afternoon. He pulls it out of the bag. Feeling slightly embarrassed, he takes a whiff. It smells like Jack, that same citrusy scent that lingers on Ianto's own body from their earlier grappling session. Ianto grabs the shirt and locks the SUV before going up into his flat.
He feels vaguely like a stalker but his hands are shaking with excitement. He doesn't even bother to go into the bedroom, just draws the blinds and collapses on the couch, with Jack's shirt half-draped over his face. As soon as he is horizontal, his fantasy overwhelms him. What if Jack had subdued him in the gym, not with pain compliance, but with pleasure? In his heated imagination, Jack pins his arms, bends down to kiss him deeply. He envisions their tongues crashing together, teeth snapping, as they tear into each other with savage passion. His imagination is filled with the sound of Jack's hitched breath, and the fragrance clinging to Jack's shirt enhances the effect. Ianto is stiff in his pants. He moans as he draws out his cock, letting his hands wander up and down his body, inhaling the scent of Jack from the shirt and from his own forearms.
"Oh, Captain!" he sighs, pretending that the other man is running his hands all over his body, ravishing him. Ianto tosses his head, and his hand grasps his cock more tightly. He arches his back, thrusts into his own grip with a gasp of pleasure. It's intense, his hot fantasy. Is it really the pheromones, or just the sheer charisma of the man? His cock is slick and aching. He wants it hard, fast, and dirty, so he jerks himself rapidly, pulling the shirt over his face so that his eyes are covered, so that his whole mind and body are suffused with the essence of Jack.
"Jack!" he sobs out, as the first spurts splash across his belly. He comes hard, moaning shamelessly as his body is wracked in pleasure. Even in his fantasy, the very idea of Jack Harkness is hotter than anyone he's actually touched. Ianto strokes his cock tightly, shuddering as he squeezes out the last of his spend.
He draws a deep breath, moves Jack's shirt off his face, and looks down at his ruined track pants. Now he really needs a shower, after coming so explosively. Yet he still thinks of Jack, even as he soaps himself under the hot spray, he feels his body stirring at the thought of what he is sure will ensue between them. That makes it a thousand times hotter than any of his previous sexual fantasies; he's sure it's actually going to happen.
In a fresh shirt and chinos, Ianto tosses his soiled track pants and Jack's shirt into the laundry bag and continues with his original errand. He checks his stop watch: 22 minutes from parking the SUV to returning to it with the laundry. Hardly a noticeable detour. He feels calm and relaxed as he drives. It always soothes him to be freshly bathed, and maybe his sexual tension, ever on the increase the longer he's known Jack, will be at a manageable level after his interlude of erotic self-gratification.
It's close to 4:00 p.m. when he arrives and Suzie and Owen are looking antsy. He brings them a round of freshly-brewed coffee, unasked. Tosh is deep in her work and he dares not disturb her. That leaves only Jack, working quietly in his office, and for some reason, he's embarrassed at seeing him. It's not like Jack's a mind reader, he tells himself. He walks up the iron staircase, balancing Jack's coffee on a tray. He knows just how he likes it and always takes care to fix it specially: one cup in Jack's favorite mug, another half-cup in a stainless steel thermos. Cream in a tiny pitcher and two sugar cubes on a saucer.
Jacks knows his footsteps, speaks to him without turning around. "Is it four o'clock already?" On quiet days at Torchwood, they take a tea break at about this time. Ianto established this pattern on his first day.
"Yes, sir, it's that time," he says, bringing the tray to the coffee table. Jack sits on the sofa, examining a tiny bit of brass. He drops it into a matchbox, slides the cover shut, and picks up the steaming mug.
"Nothing for yourself?" Jack asks.
"I'll have it in the kitchen," says Ianto.
"Why not up here, with me?" says Jack, with that charming smile that makes Ianto's heart race. His gaze is penetrating, and Ianto feels foolishly afraid that Jack knows exactly what he's been up to on his lunch hour.
"I, uh, didn't think I was invited," Ianto stammers.
"I'm giving you a standing invitation. You can always have your afternoon coffee with me." Jack pats the sofa beside him. Ianto sits down nervously. "We can share the cup. Do you like cream?" he asks, looking mischievous. Ianto doesn't know why this one word should make him blush so. Cream. He thinks of the creamy mess he spurted onto his stomach a scant hour ago. Does Jack know? Of course not, how could he?
Ianto simply nods and Jack presses the cup into his hand, making sure to touch his fingers so that Ianto again feels that spark of excitement. Everything about Jack electrifies him. He sips the coffee; rich, strong, and delicious as always. He passes it to Jack, who again takes the opportunity to brush his fingers against Ianto's. What an incorrigible flirt, Ianto thinks, but he's pleased, trying to suppress his catlike grin as he senses the low current of Jack's attraction in the touch of their fingertips.
"So, how was your lunch? Try anything new today?" Jack asks as he sips.
"Um, I just stopped home. I needed a change of clothes." Ianto blushes furiously. He has no reason to be embarrassed, but his flushed face will surely give him away.
"Good that you live nearby. Convenient, isn't it?" Ianto nods. Jack pours more coffee, passes the hot cup back to him.
"I'll tell you a secret. Your hand-to-hand skills are sharp, very good. You're almost a match for me. And I find that rather devastatingly sexy. I had to cut our lesson short today because you made me sweat. Do you know what I mean, Ianto?"
Ianto looks down, nodding shyly.
"I was getting a little too excited to focus. If it bothers you, I can have Owen take over. Or Suzie. To be honest, I think you'd trounce either of them at this point. Does it bother you, Ianto?"
Ianto shakes his head.
"I didn't think so," says Jack, grinning. "In fact, I thought a felt a spark between us … is it too much to hope for a little reciprocation?"
"Yes… I mean, No! No, it's not too much, ah…" Ianto trails off uncertainly, but it doesn't matter because Jack tilts his chin, forces him to meet his gaze, and sees the faint smile playing around Jack's lips. The kiss is not as Ianto expected. It's light and sweet, and Jack puts his hand around Ianto's neck as he kisses. "Mmm," murmurs Jack. "What a lovely kisser you are, Ianto." He sighs, rubs his hands fondly across the fabric of Ianto's trousers, stretched tightly across his thigh. Ianto leans in for another kiss. He's impatient and this time he opens his mouth. He's thrilled to hear Jack's groan as their tongues touch. Jack's hand tightens on his thigh. "That's right, love," Jack pants. Ianto feels a kind of exhilaration as he loses himself in their kiss, in Jack's hot mouth, his hand caressing Ianto's neck, the other gripping his thigh possessively, their quickening breath, the scent of Jack aroused. Ianto moans into their kiss, he shifts his hips, hoping Jack will slide his hand upward, will take the next step and move their interlude forward into the bliss that Ianto is sure awaits them.
"The others are still here," whispers Jack around their kiss. "They might call out for me." He draws away regretfully. Ianto bites his lip, trying not to moan in disappointment.
"Come to me after they leave," says Jack. "I'll be waiting for you." He winks at Ianto, shifts his hips, letting his hand falls suggestively close to an impressive bulge in his trousers. Ianto's hard, too, and standing up and returning to work is the last thing he wants to do. Jack kisses him briefly before he returns to his desk. Ianto makes his way down the iron staircase gingerly, willing his erection to subside.
He hides out in the kitchen, purportedly tidying and drawing up a list of items to be restocked, but in reality just sitting there with the coffee cup he and Jack had shared. He brushes his lips to it thoughtfully. At 6:52 Jack texts him Tosh is finally gone. Come upstairs. Ianto's heart pounds as he climbs the iron staircase. Jack's waiting for him on the sofa, half reclined, one hand resting lightly on his thigh. He says nothing, nor does Ianto. They simply come together, Jack's mouth open and expectant, Ianto biting his lips delicately as they kiss.
"Darling," whispers Jack, and with a catch of his breath, his tongue touches Ianto's lips lightly, then more forcibly, prying them apart for a deep, wet kiss. Ianto grips Jack's shoulder; he pants and his face is flushed scarlet.
"Your first time?" asks Jack softly.
"With a man, yes," Ianto admits, feeling slightly embarrassed, thinking of Jack's centuries of sexual experience with creatures from all over the galaxy.
"Then I want it to be special." Jack cups Ianto's chin, looks into his eyes. He's thrilled at the prospect of being Ianto's first. Jack's hand underneath his chin is shaking. Ianto sees his lust and nervousness and is oddly touched by it.
"Yes, please, Jack," he says, leaning in for a long kiss, with lots of tongue and teeth. They kiss until they are breathless, until their lips are hot and bruised. Then Jack straddles him, forcing him back into the sofa. Their bodies are pressed together delightfully; he can feel Jack's long hard prick straining through his trousers, rubbing against his own throbbing erection. Ianto throws his head back and gasps with pleasure. Jack muffles it with a tongue-kiss. Ianto arches up to him, kissing and grinding his hips, feeling the hot rush of passion in the tangle of their tongues, the slow measured thrusts of their hips. Jack's teeth find the sensitive points of his neck; it hurts a little and Ianto moans half in protest as the pain flares up his senses and sends a flush of pleasure straight to his groin.
He slides down Jack's braces, feeling brave, and so excited, his cock stiff, and Jack panting in his arms. He unbuttons Jack's shirt nimbly, fingers fast on the buttons. Jack's skin is warm, and Ianto slides his hand inside, finding his nipples, stroking and pinching them and measuring Jack's reaction. He's pleased when Jack's quickened breath ends on a whimper as he pinches and rolls his hard little nipples between his fingers. Jack catches his hands, he leans down and kisses him aggressively; he wants to take control. Ianto's arms wrap around his backside. Jack forces their bodies together, and he sets to work on Ianto's jacket, his tie and his white dress shirt.
"Always so well-dressed," says Jack, unbuttoning Ianto's shirt, stroking it away from his body. "Oh, you're beautiful, you are," he whispers, trailing his fingers down Ianto's chest to the sprinkle of dark hair below his belly button. He leans in, so that Ianto can feel all the heat of his body. When they kiss again, Jack settles himself completely on Ianto, the bulge in his trousers throbbing against Ianto's painfully hard erection, his bare chest rubbing against Ianto's own. He strokes Ianto's arms, making small noises of appreciation. His cock rocks over Ianto's unhurriedly, and Ianto arches up. They begin a luscious slow-grind, rubbing together, cocks confined by their trousers. Jack rocks into him, forcing the breath from his body at each thrust. Ianto feels the pleasure wash over him in waves. He closes his eyes, feeling the heat and the hardness of Jack's body, the sound of his ragged breathing, the delicious pressure against his groin, making his cock throb. Jack Harkness is a tease, a deliciously wicked cocktease, and Ianto intends to enjoy every moment of him. He wraps his arms around Jack, forcing his body closer, dropping his hands to Jack's ass, squeezing him, trying to make him rock faster. Jack strokes Ianto's hair away from his face, and leans in for a long slow kiss that leaves Ianto trembling. Jack rolls his hips, forcing a soft little cry from Ianto.
"So eager for it," Jack whispers in a voice strained with lust.
"Oh-ho," groans Ianto, and his fingers dig into Jack's shoulders. He kisses Jack greedily, wanting him to move faster, to thrust harder. For the second time that day, Jack makes his rock-hard cock ache in the confines of his trousers. Jack unzips him, palming his erection through the fabric of his boxer shorts. Ianto jerks his hips. "Not so fast," he gasps.
"You're stiff as a poker," Jack whispers in his ear, caressing his cock through the thin cotton. He draws it out, sliding the shorts down Ianto's slim hips, letting his cock spring free. He looks intently into Ianto's eyes as he starts to stroke him. He sits close to Ianto, straddling him over the sofa while he works his cock. Ianto bites his lower lip and thrusts his hips fast and hard to push his stiffened cock into Jack's tight grasp.
"Slow… slower," Ianto pants, but it feels so good, and Jack knows just how to touch him. He groans and grabs Jack's ass, hard, and thrusts himself into Jack's hand. He's gasping for breath as Jack jerks him a little faster. It's too much, Jack's quickening strokes, the wild look in his eyes, his lips half-parted as he pants in sympathy. Ianto feels his body tensing on the brink of pleasure. He grabs the back of Jack's neck, forces their lips together in a hasty kiss.
"Oh, fuck," Ianto gasps, and he bites Jack's lips. His ass clenches, his balls tighten, and with a low moan, he creams under Jack's steady hand. Jack is thorough, squeezing out every last drop with long, luscious strokes. Ianto shudders, wanton moans escaping his lips until his cock finally softens. Only then does he become aware of Jack's heaviness, pressing down on him. He shifts his hips in discomfort and Jack slides off and sits next to him, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "Wow," he says.
"Sorry I came so fast."
"Don't be sorry. It was gorgeous," and the last was just a whisper in Ianto's ear. Jack's unexpectedly tender, rubbing Ianto's leg thigh fondly, threading his arm around Ianto's shoulder and squeezing him close. Ianto feels messy, his soft cock smeared with spend, clothing all rumpled, and his mouth is dry. Jack uses his handkerchief to mop him up, tucking his cock back into his trousers, loosely buckling his belt. He fetches a steel canister from his desk, unscrews the cap, and pours a small cup of icy-cold water and hands it to Ianto, who drinks gratefully. He hands the cup back to Jack, who sets it on a nearby table and takes Ianto's hand in his own. Ianto blushes under Jack's intense gaze. He hadn't thought this far ahead. He's hyperaware of Jack's enormous erection straining at the cloth of his trousers.
"What about you?" he asks, dropping his hand shyly, feeling Jack's cock through the thin cloth.
"We have all the time in the world. Why don't you come downstairs?"
"What's downstairs?" Ianto knows there's a little cubbyhole, accessible by a steel ladder. He's even peeked down there and seen nothing more than an army cot, but never ventured further. He's not averse to a little snooping but something about that area seems way too private.
"Just a place. I rest there sometimes." Ianto notices that Jack didn't say sleep.
"You mean, like a bedroom?"
"I guess you could call it that. Would you like to see?" He holds out his hand, and Ianto allows Jack to lead him the iron ladder, and they descend. The ladder leads directly down to an army bunk covered by a worn green wool blanket. A shallow bracketed shelf lines the wall. It's dark and cool, and Jack lights a lantern, an old-fashioned glass hurricane lamp, its wick floating in oil. He sets it on the shelf, illuminating their faces with a warm yellow glow.
"That's a fire hazard, that is," says Ianto.
"I want to see your body in the lamp-light," Jack says bluntly, and blows out the match. Ianto comes into his arms. Jack draws him close and tight, and they sit together on the tiny cot. Jack kisses the top of his head, so tenderly that Ianto forgets all the heat and lust of earlier and melts into the warm safe embrace of the Captain. He pulls Jack towards him. They lay together in a sweet embrace, Jack's lips resting lightly on the side of Ianto's neck, feeling the steady pulse. Ianto, eyes closed, has never felt so warm and protected as in Jack's arms. And once again he's hard for Jack Harkness, beyond what he would have thought possible. He feels like a horny teenager. Jack's leaning close, with that charming crooked smile that always makes Ianto go weak in the knees. And there's that scent of Jack, lemony and slightly sharp, that scent that Ianto craves. He buries his face in Jack's chest with a little whimper, hands reaching for Jack's belt.
Jack has other ideas. He pushes Ianto down onto the narrow bed, pins him to the mattress as he leans down for a kiss. His cock is rock-hard against Ianto's belly. He kisses him deeply, and Ianto pants and his cock throbs. When Ianto gasps with pleasure, Jack slips his tongue inside his mouth. He thrusts and rubs himself against Jack, who finally, mercifully, unzips their trousers. Their bare cocks brush against each other for the first time.
"Quick recovery time, Ianto Jones," he whispers in Ianto's ear, lips barely touching the lobe as he fondles Ianto's erection. Jack takes their cocks in his hand, squeezing them together. Ianto groans hard; it's the third time in just a few short hours that he's got the horn for Jack Harkness, and it's even more intense than before.
"Something about you, Jack, I just … I… ohhh!" Ianto cannot finish his sentence because Jack thrusts against him, rubbing their cocks together in just the right places, teasing the sensitive undersides. Ianto groans and latches his arms around Jack. He squeezes tight, arching into his thrusts. Jack leans in for a fiery kiss, full of teeth and tongue. He's panting now, too, and his kisses grow sloppy as his cock throbs and stiffens in response to the delicious friction.
Jack pauses to sit up and look at Ianto, with his flushed face, his swollen lips. Ianto's shirt is unbuttoned and Jack strokes it away from his body, and then he pulls off his trousers and shorts and just looks at him.
"Why are you still dressed?" Ianto asks, feeling vulnerable under Jack's gaze, naked with his cock pointing stiffly. Jack merely nods and starts to unbutton his shirt. Ianto takes over, hands trembling a little as he strokes away Jack's shirt, slides his shorts down, and then Jack wiggles against him to kick off his trousers. They lie naked together, and Ianto gasps at the luscious feeling of their hard cocks and bare chests sheened with sweat and gliding together.
"You're so lovely," Jack whispers in his ear, and then his hand is on Ianto's cock again, stroking, squeezing, feeling his hardness. Jack slides down, and Ianto knows what's coming next. He feels a jolt of nervousness mixed with hot anticipation. Jack smiles, catching his gaze, wanting him to look as he touches his tongue to the straining head of Ianto's cock. Ianto flinches nervously, but then Jack's hot wet mouth engulfs the head, and he moans and clenches the rough wool blanket beneath him.
Jack moans, too, because he loves to blow, and because Ianto's so vocal in his appreciation. He gasps and threads his fingers through Jack's hair, encouraging him to go deeper. Jack obliges, sucking and tonguing the head, gliding up and down with his soft lips, tickling the sensitive underside.
"That's good, Jack, ahhh," Ianto sighs with pleasure. It's the best thing he's ever felt, Jack's teasing hot lips and tongue caressing his swollen shaft. He bucks his hips forward, and Jack grabs his ass and pulls him deeper into his willing mouth.
Jack pauses in his sucking to lick and kiss his balls, and his teasing tongue delicately strokes the sensitive spot just below. It's a new sensation for Ianto, and it feels so good, he wonders why no-one's every done that before. And then, before he can protest, Jack's tongue is laving his most private place, and he flinches and groans a lustful protest.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice strained.
"Licking you. Relax, you'll love it." Jack meets his eyes with a feral grin. He lowers his head and resumes his tongue-lashing, and Ianto closes his eyes, concentrating on the feeling. It's maddening and lovely, Jack's clever tongue licking him, occasionally working the tip inside of him, which makes him cry out and rake his fingers through Jack's hair. He grows accustomed to the feeling, relaxing into it, and Jack moves back to that delicate in-between spot, then he licks and sucks his balls again, and then back to his straining cock for another long, loving suck. He bobs his head, flicking his tongue and making Ianto pant with lust, then moves back to his licking his balls and tonguing his bottom-hole.
Ianto moans freely now, because this is beyond sex, beyond getting off. Jack's driving him mad, sucking his cock and making his ass and balls ache for his tongue, then tickling his hole while his neglected cock throbs and leaks. He plunges his tongue inside and Ianto can't help it, he bucks his hips, wanting him to push in deeper. When Jack replaces his tongue with his moistened finger, Ianto sinks his ass down to drive it in. Jack wraps his lips around his cock again, sucking and teasing, and he crooks his finger, looking for that secret place. Ianto's soft cry tells him he's found it.
"This will make you feel so good, Ianto," whispers Jack, laying a kiss on his belly and wiggling his finger. Ianto clenches his ass, he groans hard but cannot find any words to tell Jack to do it harder, faster. Instead Jack is slow and teasing, his warm mouth and prodding finger make Ianto flush hot with pleasure, feeling a warm glow spreading from his tightening balls to his groin and hips and even down to the soles of his feet. Jack's finger probes him deep, firing all his nerves, making him pant and tremble. He starts to ride himself on Jack's finger, slowly and rhythmically at first, then a little faster. Then suddenly, Jack slides his finger out and Ianto can't quell a helpless moan of loss.
"Let's do it," Ianto says impulsively.
Jack eases a finger back inside Ianto, slides it deep, and starts to work him over again. Ianto clenches his ass and grabs Jack's shoulders hard.
"Are you sure?" Jack asks in a strained voice, and Ianto knows that he's dying to.
"Yeah, let's go," says Ianto breathlessly. But Jack works his finger soothingly, leans down for another loving suck, and asks him again if it's his first time. Ianto nods.
"We'll go slow," Jack reassures him. He reaches over to the narrow shelf tacked to the wall and finds a small glass bottle. He rubs it between his palms to warm it, then pours the oil all over Ianto's cock, a veritable puddle, letting it drip down between his legs. He pours it over his fingers, saturating them. He rubs the head of his cock over his hole, again and again, until Ianto grabs his hips and holds him steady, urging him on. Their lips touch; Jack kisses him slowly and sweetly as he enters him. Ianto inhales sharply, then exhales with a measured breath. Jack groans in his ear, motionless except for the tremble in his limbs, struggling to contain his lust. He lets Ianto take the lead, waits until Ianto's arms clasp around his waist, until his gorgeous lips are parted on a moan, before he finally rocks into him.
Ianto responds with delight; the sensation is delicate and new, and Jack thrusts his hips languidly, drawing him out. He leans down for a deep wet kiss, quenching Ianto's groans. "Oh, darling," he breathes into Ianto's ear. He fucks him in slow grinding circles, relishing Ianto's short sobs of pleasure, the way his fingers dig into his hips. He pauses to spread Ianto's legs wider, and leans down for another deep kiss. He rests his hands on his narrow ribcage, feeling the ridges between his fingers.
"Jack," Ianto's voice is pleading, submissive. He jogs his hips impatiently.
"Oh, yes," sighs Jack, resting his lips on Ianto's neck, tasting the salt, feeling the throb of his pulse fluttering under his lips. Deep inside Ianto, he's hard and aching; if he relaxes for a moment, he'll spill over.
Ianto's tight, and his clenching makes it tighter, so that Jack catches his breath. Ianto's kisses grow sloppy and when he starts to whimper with every stroke, Jack finally begins to rock into him, leaning low so that Ianto's hard cock is trapped between their bellies, and Ianto shivers with a hot thrill of lust.
"You hot little crumpet," Jack says affectionately, pinching his nipples.
Ianto groans hard. Every stroke of Jack's cock nudges his prostate with electrifying pleasure. Just when he thinks it can't get any better, Jack slips his hand between their bodies, grasps his cock tightly, and starts to stroke him. He alternates between thrusting and stroking until Ianto wants nothing more but for Jack to synchronize. Each thrust sends a warm flood of pleasure deep inside him, and each stroke of his cock is a sharp shock of lust which makes Ianto cry out. He's moaning and gasping constantly now, as Jack shortens the time between rocking into him and stroking his cock, until at last he is doing both simultaneously. Ianto groans helplessly, and presses his palms against Jack's muscular backside, wanting to draw him deeper and faster. There is a fiery ache in his cock, and a riot of lust and pleasure deep inside him.
"Ah, Jack, fuck me harder, fuck… oh!" Ianto gasps out as Jack obliges, rocking a little faster, and his hand drop from Ianto's cock as his own pleasure overwhelms him. Jack at last begins to lose control. He pounds into Ianto, all delicacy and care forgotten. Ianto's cock is trapped between their slick bellies, and the pressure is good, though not as good as Jack's artful hand. But Jack can no longer compose himself, and with each thrust, he moans shamelessly.
"Darling, I'm going to come so soon," Jack whispers brokenly, and his lips find Ianto's in a deep wet tongue kiss. Ianto moans around it, the pleasure so intense he is barely able to keep his lips on Jack's. And then Jack's hand finds his cock again and that's all he can take.
"Oh, harder, please, Jack," he moans shamelessly, and Jack obliges him, his hand a tight slick home for Ianto's throbbing cock. There is a sweet burgeoning ache deep in his body, and he feels a sudden synchronization of cock and ass and Jack's soft lips and tongue, until everything rises together and becomes almost too much for him to bear.
Jack cries out in unbridled passion, a sound unlike any Ianto has ever heard before. Once again he bends deep to kiss Ianto wetly, their tongues twined together, until Ianto can't kiss for groaning, and he feels himself going over the edge. His thigh muscles tense and clench in lustful anticipation. The pleasure is so sharp and acute that he cries out as the waves crest deep inside him and his cock pulses and with one last sharp squeeze from Jack, he starts to come in long agonizing spurts.
"Ahh, fuck!" he cries out in a frenzy of unbridled lust. Jack's eyes widen and he finally allows himself to feel the full brunt of the pleasure of fucking Ianto's tight little hole, of kissing his soft rosy lips and handling his delightfully hard cock. His balls tighten and draw up and with one last rough thrust he too comes with a hard groan.
"Ohhhh, oh, yes," he moans, his cock pulsing. And Ianto answers him with soft little sobs as he too feels his balls emptying in long fiery streams of pleasure, and each thrust of Jack's hips makes him come just a little bit more. They shudder together for long minutes, and when the first violent waves of pleasure die down, Ianto lifts his head for a kiss. Jack kisses softly, breaking the kiss only when another little helpless paroxysm of pleasure overtakes him, because it takes him a long time to finish. Ianto feels pleasantly full and satisfied but Jack is still thrusting languidly, emptying himself fully, until with a final hard short groan, his pleasure is complete.
"Darling!" he whispers, as his head nestles into Ianto's shoulder. They are still joined together, and Jack's in no hurry to uncouple. Ianto strokes his back and shoulders, beautifully muscled from many lifetimes of conditioning. He mumbles sweet blandishments in Jack's ear, but there's nothing particular that needs to be said. Jack doesn't sleep, but his eyes are closed, and he's a dead weight across Ianto's body, but Ianto doesn't mind. He feels drowsy and well-fucked, but also safe and loved in Jack's embrace.
"Sleep a little while, love," whispers Jack, as Ianto starts to drift off. "I'll be here when you awake." And Ianto falls into a deep, untroubled sleep, and his last waking thoughts are of Jack.
Author: missviolet
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: PWP - explicit gay sex here, but you probably knew that!
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Russell T. Davies, BBC, et. al. No infringement or disrespect intended.
Summary: During Ianto's first few weeks as part of the Torchwood team, Jack provides specialized training and more.
Author's Notes: After a long absence, I'm diving back into slash fiction.
Jack is pleased with his marksmanship. On his first day at the Hub, they spend the better part of an afternoon at the firing range, where Ianto proves himself a crack shot. Ianto is careful to control his breathing, not to give himself away, but his fingertips tingle when Jack corrects his posture or hand placement. He knows the Captain relishes the excuse to touch him. After several hours, Ianto has passed all tests with flying colors and is graded by Jack as an expert marksman.
He is less proficient with hand-to-hand combat. Ianto is a tough brawler, to be sure, but he lacks the tactical maneuvers of a professional. He also needs to be trained to capture as well as to kill when necessary. He spends the next several weeks with Jack, learning the art of combat. Owen and Suzie drop in about once a week, to keep their skills fresh, and together they work on group exercises. Tosh opts out of Torchwood's martial program though she is, like all of them, an expert marksman. Jack insists this of his team.
Ianto is a fast learner. With Jack's dedicated tutoring, in six weeks' time, he can spar with Jack and hold his own for a few minutes. He's learned how to fight on the ground, how to disarm guns and knives, and how to control an assailant without damaging him. One hot muggy morning, Jack tests his skills in the small gymnasium on the lower deck of the Hub. Ianto wears a track suit, Jack an old-fashioned gym uniform of white shorts and a polo shirt with a canary yellow stripe. He's wearing knee socks, and Ianto wonders at Jack's preference for old-timey clothes. The braces, the great-coat, and now this Edwardian athletic ensemble. On anyone else, it would look straight-laced and stodgy, but Jack somehow manages to make his outdated clothing look dashing and romantic.
They circle around each other, exchanging blows, warming each other up with strikes to the body. Jack demonstrates several different ways to choke a person into unconsciousness without causing permanent harm. Ianto practices on Jack, stopping when he taps out so Jack doesn't lose consciousness. Not that it would be fatal, as Ianto knows from reading Jack's personnel file.
Jack gives an impromptu demonstration of improvised weapons, using his wallet, a jacket, and a hat to disarm Ianto's knife attacks. Ianto tries out a few of these unconventional tactics before Jack says, "Let's finish with you on the ground." He walks up to Ianto and drops him with alarming efficiency. He simply rotates Ianto's shoulder, throws him over his outstretched leg, and takes a large step. Ianto falls to the floor like a rag doll. He knows how to land without hurting himself, and even how to be strategic in falling. Right before he hits the floor, he latches hold of Jack's ankle, using his falling body weight to force it to buckle and dropping Jack to the floor beside him.
"Nice," Jack pants, as he crawls to cover him. They wrestle, and Ianto's learned to be slippery. Jack can't get a hold of him; somehow he is always just out of reach. He finally drops his body weight abruptly and, by a stroke of luck, pins Ianto beneath him. He quickly locks Ianto's arm, cranks it just enough to be uncomfortable. Ianto knows he's beat but he's still proud of himself for giving Jack a good run. He's made him break a sweat, which has never happened before. There is a light sheen on his forearms and across his brow. Jack's out-of-breath. He applies a little more pressure, and finally Ianto taps out. They rise, and Jack takes an old-fashioned handkerchief out of his pocket and mops his face.
"Well done," says Jack, patting him on the shoulder. "Let's continue tomorrow. I'm a little worn-out." Jack heads for the showers and Ianto knows that there's nothing to stop him from following. What could be more natural than showering after a workout on a hot day? But he's afraid of what might happen, of what he might do if he saw Jack's naked body under the hot spray. Would he stand and stare like an oaf? Would his cock betray him with a massive hard-on? It was better not to risk it.
He heads to the locker room and sits on the wooden bench. He's been rolling with Jack and he smells like him, that lemony musky smell that is so appealing. 51st century pheromones, Jack called it. Ianto isn't sure if that was why he craves Jack so. He suspects that Jack's devilish smile, his deep blue eyes and broad shoulders have something to do with it as well. But he certainly doesn't mind the way Jack smells, and the fact that his scent lingers on him excites him so. Ianto doesn't want to shower. He wants to lie in bed and inhale the fragrance of Jack on his own skin.
He mumbles some excuse to Suzie and Tosh about taking in the laundry, and grabs a laundry bag. The hamper is only half-full and it's mostly Jack's clothes. For reasons of security, a top-secret waste disposal facility launders Owen's scrubs. Ianto fills the bag and tosses it into the back of the SUV. The launderer is near his flat and he intends to stop home first. He tells himself it's merely to shower and change but a hot thrill runs through his body when he thinks of what he is about to do.
On a whim, looks in the laundry bag to see what Jack has dirtied up this week. The first thing he sees is that gym-suit shirt with the canary yellow stripe that Jack had worn earlier in the afternoon. He pulls it out of the bag. Feeling slightly embarrassed, he takes a whiff. It smells like Jack, that same citrusy scent that lingers on Ianto's own body from their earlier grappling session. Ianto grabs the shirt and locks the SUV before going up into his flat.
He feels vaguely like a stalker but his hands are shaking with excitement. He doesn't even bother to go into the bedroom, just draws the blinds and collapses on the couch, with Jack's shirt half-draped over his face. As soon as he is horizontal, his fantasy overwhelms him. What if Jack had subdued him in the gym, not with pain compliance, but with pleasure? In his heated imagination, Jack pins his arms, bends down to kiss him deeply. He envisions their tongues crashing together, teeth snapping, as they tear into each other with savage passion. His imagination is filled with the sound of Jack's hitched breath, and the fragrance clinging to Jack's shirt enhances the effect. Ianto is stiff in his pants. He moans as he draws out his cock, letting his hands wander up and down his body, inhaling the scent of Jack from the shirt and from his own forearms.
"Oh, Captain!" he sighs, pretending that the other man is running his hands all over his body, ravishing him. Ianto tosses his head, and his hand grasps his cock more tightly. He arches his back, thrusts into his own grip with a gasp of pleasure. It's intense, his hot fantasy. Is it really the pheromones, or just the sheer charisma of the man? His cock is slick and aching. He wants it hard, fast, and dirty, so he jerks himself rapidly, pulling the shirt over his face so that his eyes are covered, so that his whole mind and body are suffused with the essence of Jack.
"Jack!" he sobs out, as the first spurts splash across his belly. He comes hard, moaning shamelessly as his body is wracked in pleasure. Even in his fantasy, the very idea of Jack Harkness is hotter than anyone he's actually touched. Ianto strokes his cock tightly, shuddering as he squeezes out the last of his spend.
He draws a deep breath, moves Jack's shirt off his face, and looks down at his ruined track pants. Now he really needs a shower, after coming so explosively. Yet he still thinks of Jack, even as he soaps himself under the hot spray, he feels his body stirring at the thought of what he is sure will ensue between them. That makes it a thousand times hotter than any of his previous sexual fantasies; he's sure it's actually going to happen.
In a fresh shirt and chinos, Ianto tosses his soiled track pants and Jack's shirt into the laundry bag and continues with his original errand. He checks his stop watch: 22 minutes from parking the SUV to returning to it with the laundry. Hardly a noticeable detour. He feels calm and relaxed as he drives. It always soothes him to be freshly bathed, and maybe his sexual tension, ever on the increase the longer he's known Jack, will be at a manageable level after his interlude of erotic self-gratification.
It's close to 4:00 p.m. when he arrives and Suzie and Owen are looking antsy. He brings them a round of freshly-brewed coffee, unasked. Tosh is deep in her work and he dares not disturb her. That leaves only Jack, working quietly in his office, and for some reason, he's embarrassed at seeing him. It's not like Jack's a mind reader, he tells himself. He walks up the iron staircase, balancing Jack's coffee on a tray. He knows just how he likes it and always takes care to fix it specially: one cup in Jack's favorite mug, another half-cup in a stainless steel thermos. Cream in a tiny pitcher and two sugar cubes on a saucer.
Jacks knows his footsteps, speaks to him without turning around. "Is it four o'clock already?" On quiet days at Torchwood, they take a tea break at about this time. Ianto established this pattern on his first day.
"Yes, sir, it's that time," he says, bringing the tray to the coffee table. Jack sits on the sofa, examining a tiny bit of brass. He drops it into a matchbox, slides the cover shut, and picks up the steaming mug.
"Nothing for yourself?" Jack asks.
"I'll have it in the kitchen," says Ianto.
"Why not up here, with me?" says Jack, with that charming smile that makes Ianto's heart race. His gaze is penetrating, and Ianto feels foolishly afraid that Jack knows exactly what he's been up to on his lunch hour.
"I, uh, didn't think I was invited," Ianto stammers.
"I'm giving you a standing invitation. You can always have your afternoon coffee with me." Jack pats the sofa beside him. Ianto sits down nervously. "We can share the cup. Do you like cream?" he asks, looking mischievous. Ianto doesn't know why this one word should make him blush so. Cream. He thinks of the creamy mess he spurted onto his stomach a scant hour ago. Does Jack know? Of course not, how could he?
Ianto simply nods and Jack presses the cup into his hand, making sure to touch his fingers so that Ianto again feels that spark of excitement. Everything about Jack electrifies him. He sips the coffee; rich, strong, and delicious as always. He passes it to Jack, who again takes the opportunity to brush his fingers against Ianto's. What an incorrigible flirt, Ianto thinks, but he's pleased, trying to suppress his catlike grin as he senses the low current of Jack's attraction in the touch of their fingertips.
"So, how was your lunch? Try anything new today?" Jack asks as he sips.
"Um, I just stopped home. I needed a change of clothes." Ianto blushes furiously. He has no reason to be embarrassed, but his flushed face will surely give him away.
"Good that you live nearby. Convenient, isn't it?" Ianto nods. Jack pours more coffee, passes the hot cup back to him.
"I'll tell you a secret. Your hand-to-hand skills are sharp, very good. You're almost a match for me. And I find that rather devastatingly sexy. I had to cut our lesson short today because you made me sweat. Do you know what I mean, Ianto?"
Ianto looks down, nodding shyly.
"I was getting a little too excited to focus. If it bothers you, I can have Owen take over. Or Suzie. To be honest, I think you'd trounce either of them at this point. Does it bother you, Ianto?"
Ianto shakes his head.
"I didn't think so," says Jack, grinning. "In fact, I thought a felt a spark between us … is it too much to hope for a little reciprocation?"
"Yes… I mean, No! No, it's not too much, ah…" Ianto trails off uncertainly, but it doesn't matter because Jack tilts his chin, forces him to meet his gaze, and sees the faint smile playing around Jack's lips. The kiss is not as Ianto expected. It's light and sweet, and Jack puts his hand around Ianto's neck as he kisses. "Mmm," murmurs Jack. "What a lovely kisser you are, Ianto." He sighs, rubs his hands fondly across the fabric of Ianto's trousers, stretched tightly across his thigh. Ianto leans in for another kiss. He's impatient and this time he opens his mouth. He's thrilled to hear Jack's groan as their tongues touch. Jack's hand tightens on his thigh. "That's right, love," Jack pants. Ianto feels a kind of exhilaration as he loses himself in their kiss, in Jack's hot mouth, his hand caressing Ianto's neck, the other gripping his thigh possessively, their quickening breath, the scent of Jack aroused. Ianto moans into their kiss, he shifts his hips, hoping Jack will slide his hand upward, will take the next step and move their interlude forward into the bliss that Ianto is sure awaits them.
"The others are still here," whispers Jack around their kiss. "They might call out for me." He draws away regretfully. Ianto bites his lip, trying not to moan in disappointment.
"Come to me after they leave," says Jack. "I'll be waiting for you." He winks at Ianto, shifts his hips, letting his hand falls suggestively close to an impressive bulge in his trousers. Ianto's hard, too, and standing up and returning to work is the last thing he wants to do. Jack kisses him briefly before he returns to his desk. Ianto makes his way down the iron staircase gingerly, willing his erection to subside.
He hides out in the kitchen, purportedly tidying and drawing up a list of items to be restocked, but in reality just sitting there with the coffee cup he and Jack had shared. He brushes his lips to it thoughtfully. At 6:52 Jack texts him Tosh is finally gone. Come upstairs. Ianto's heart pounds as he climbs the iron staircase. Jack's waiting for him on the sofa, half reclined, one hand resting lightly on his thigh. He says nothing, nor does Ianto. They simply come together, Jack's mouth open and expectant, Ianto biting his lips delicately as they kiss.
"Darling," whispers Jack, and with a catch of his breath, his tongue touches Ianto's lips lightly, then more forcibly, prying them apart for a deep, wet kiss. Ianto grips Jack's shoulder; he pants and his face is flushed scarlet.
"Your first time?" asks Jack softly.
"With a man, yes," Ianto admits, feeling slightly embarrassed, thinking of Jack's centuries of sexual experience with creatures from all over the galaxy.
"Then I want it to be special." Jack cups Ianto's chin, looks into his eyes. He's thrilled at the prospect of being Ianto's first. Jack's hand underneath his chin is shaking. Ianto sees his lust and nervousness and is oddly touched by it.
"Yes, please, Jack," he says, leaning in for a long kiss, with lots of tongue and teeth. They kiss until they are breathless, until their lips are hot and bruised. Then Jack straddles him, forcing him back into the sofa. Their bodies are pressed together delightfully; he can feel Jack's long hard prick straining through his trousers, rubbing against his own throbbing erection. Ianto throws his head back and gasps with pleasure. Jack muffles it with a tongue-kiss. Ianto arches up to him, kissing and grinding his hips, feeling the hot rush of passion in the tangle of their tongues, the slow measured thrusts of their hips. Jack's teeth find the sensitive points of his neck; it hurts a little and Ianto moans half in protest as the pain flares up his senses and sends a flush of pleasure straight to his groin.
He slides down Jack's braces, feeling brave, and so excited, his cock stiff, and Jack panting in his arms. He unbuttons Jack's shirt nimbly, fingers fast on the buttons. Jack's skin is warm, and Ianto slides his hand inside, finding his nipples, stroking and pinching them and measuring Jack's reaction. He's pleased when Jack's quickened breath ends on a whimper as he pinches and rolls his hard little nipples between his fingers. Jack catches his hands, he leans down and kisses him aggressively; he wants to take control. Ianto's arms wrap around his backside. Jack forces their bodies together, and he sets to work on Ianto's jacket, his tie and his white dress shirt.
"Always so well-dressed," says Jack, unbuttoning Ianto's shirt, stroking it away from his body. "Oh, you're beautiful, you are," he whispers, trailing his fingers down Ianto's chest to the sprinkle of dark hair below his belly button. He leans in, so that Ianto can feel all the heat of his body. When they kiss again, Jack settles himself completely on Ianto, the bulge in his trousers throbbing against Ianto's painfully hard erection, his bare chest rubbing against Ianto's own. He strokes Ianto's arms, making small noises of appreciation. His cock rocks over Ianto's unhurriedly, and Ianto arches up. They begin a luscious slow-grind, rubbing together, cocks confined by their trousers. Jack rocks into him, forcing the breath from his body at each thrust. Ianto feels the pleasure wash over him in waves. He closes his eyes, feeling the heat and the hardness of Jack's body, the sound of his ragged breathing, the delicious pressure against his groin, making his cock throb. Jack Harkness is a tease, a deliciously wicked cocktease, and Ianto intends to enjoy every moment of him. He wraps his arms around Jack, forcing his body closer, dropping his hands to Jack's ass, squeezing him, trying to make him rock faster. Jack strokes Ianto's hair away from his face, and leans in for a long slow kiss that leaves Ianto trembling. Jack rolls his hips, forcing a soft little cry from Ianto.
"So eager for it," Jack whispers in a voice strained with lust.
"Oh-ho," groans Ianto, and his fingers dig into Jack's shoulders. He kisses Jack greedily, wanting him to move faster, to thrust harder. For the second time that day, Jack makes his rock-hard cock ache in the confines of his trousers. Jack unzips him, palming his erection through the fabric of his boxer shorts. Ianto jerks his hips. "Not so fast," he gasps.
"You're stiff as a poker," Jack whispers in his ear, caressing his cock through the thin cotton. He draws it out, sliding the shorts down Ianto's slim hips, letting his cock spring free. He looks intently into Ianto's eyes as he starts to stroke him. He sits close to Ianto, straddling him over the sofa while he works his cock. Ianto bites his lower lip and thrusts his hips fast and hard to push his stiffened cock into Jack's tight grasp.
"Slow… slower," Ianto pants, but it feels so good, and Jack knows just how to touch him. He groans and grabs Jack's ass, hard, and thrusts himself into Jack's hand. He's gasping for breath as Jack jerks him a little faster. It's too much, Jack's quickening strokes, the wild look in his eyes, his lips half-parted as he pants in sympathy. Ianto feels his body tensing on the brink of pleasure. He grabs the back of Jack's neck, forces their lips together in a hasty kiss.
"Oh, fuck," Ianto gasps, and he bites Jack's lips. His ass clenches, his balls tighten, and with a low moan, he creams under Jack's steady hand. Jack is thorough, squeezing out every last drop with long, luscious strokes. Ianto shudders, wanton moans escaping his lips until his cock finally softens. Only then does he become aware of Jack's heaviness, pressing down on him. He shifts his hips in discomfort and Jack slides off and sits next to him, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "Wow," he says.
"Sorry I came so fast."
"Don't be sorry. It was gorgeous," and the last was just a whisper in Ianto's ear. Jack's unexpectedly tender, rubbing Ianto's leg thigh fondly, threading his arm around Ianto's shoulder and squeezing him close. Ianto feels messy, his soft cock smeared with spend, clothing all rumpled, and his mouth is dry. Jack uses his handkerchief to mop him up, tucking his cock back into his trousers, loosely buckling his belt. He fetches a steel canister from his desk, unscrews the cap, and pours a small cup of icy-cold water and hands it to Ianto, who drinks gratefully. He hands the cup back to Jack, who sets it on a nearby table and takes Ianto's hand in his own. Ianto blushes under Jack's intense gaze. He hadn't thought this far ahead. He's hyperaware of Jack's enormous erection straining at the cloth of his trousers.
"What about you?" he asks, dropping his hand shyly, feeling Jack's cock through the thin cloth.
"We have all the time in the world. Why don't you come downstairs?"
"What's downstairs?" Ianto knows there's a little cubbyhole, accessible by a steel ladder. He's even peeked down there and seen nothing more than an army cot, but never ventured further. He's not averse to a little snooping but something about that area seems way too private.
"Just a place. I rest there sometimes." Ianto notices that Jack didn't say sleep.
"You mean, like a bedroom?"
"I guess you could call it that. Would you like to see?" He holds out his hand, and Ianto allows Jack to lead him the iron ladder, and they descend. The ladder leads directly down to an army bunk covered by a worn green wool blanket. A shallow bracketed shelf lines the wall. It's dark and cool, and Jack lights a lantern, an old-fashioned glass hurricane lamp, its wick floating in oil. He sets it on the shelf, illuminating their faces with a warm yellow glow.
"That's a fire hazard, that is," says Ianto.
"I want to see your body in the lamp-light," Jack says bluntly, and blows out the match. Ianto comes into his arms. Jack draws him close and tight, and they sit together on the tiny cot. Jack kisses the top of his head, so tenderly that Ianto forgets all the heat and lust of earlier and melts into the warm safe embrace of the Captain. He pulls Jack towards him. They lay together in a sweet embrace, Jack's lips resting lightly on the side of Ianto's neck, feeling the steady pulse. Ianto, eyes closed, has never felt so warm and protected as in Jack's arms. And once again he's hard for Jack Harkness, beyond what he would have thought possible. He feels like a horny teenager. Jack's leaning close, with that charming crooked smile that always makes Ianto go weak in the knees. And there's that scent of Jack, lemony and slightly sharp, that scent that Ianto craves. He buries his face in Jack's chest with a little whimper, hands reaching for Jack's belt.
Jack has other ideas. He pushes Ianto down onto the narrow bed, pins him to the mattress as he leans down for a kiss. His cock is rock-hard against Ianto's belly. He kisses him deeply, and Ianto pants and his cock throbs. When Ianto gasps with pleasure, Jack slips his tongue inside his mouth. He thrusts and rubs himself against Jack, who finally, mercifully, unzips their trousers. Their bare cocks brush against each other for the first time.
"Quick recovery time, Ianto Jones," he whispers in Ianto's ear, lips barely touching the lobe as he fondles Ianto's erection. Jack takes their cocks in his hand, squeezing them together. Ianto groans hard; it's the third time in just a few short hours that he's got the horn for Jack Harkness, and it's even more intense than before.
"Something about you, Jack, I just … I… ohhh!" Ianto cannot finish his sentence because Jack thrusts against him, rubbing their cocks together in just the right places, teasing the sensitive undersides. Ianto groans and latches his arms around Jack. He squeezes tight, arching into his thrusts. Jack leans in for a fiery kiss, full of teeth and tongue. He's panting now, too, and his kisses grow sloppy as his cock throbs and stiffens in response to the delicious friction.
Jack pauses to sit up and look at Ianto, with his flushed face, his swollen lips. Ianto's shirt is unbuttoned and Jack strokes it away from his body, and then he pulls off his trousers and shorts and just looks at him.
"Why are you still dressed?" Ianto asks, feeling vulnerable under Jack's gaze, naked with his cock pointing stiffly. Jack merely nods and starts to unbutton his shirt. Ianto takes over, hands trembling a little as he strokes away Jack's shirt, slides his shorts down, and then Jack wiggles against him to kick off his trousers. They lie naked together, and Ianto gasps at the luscious feeling of their hard cocks and bare chests sheened with sweat and gliding together.
"You're so lovely," Jack whispers in his ear, and then his hand is on Ianto's cock again, stroking, squeezing, feeling his hardness. Jack slides down, and Ianto knows what's coming next. He feels a jolt of nervousness mixed with hot anticipation. Jack smiles, catching his gaze, wanting him to look as he touches his tongue to the straining head of Ianto's cock. Ianto flinches nervously, but then Jack's hot wet mouth engulfs the head, and he moans and clenches the rough wool blanket beneath him.
Jack moans, too, because he loves to blow, and because Ianto's so vocal in his appreciation. He gasps and threads his fingers through Jack's hair, encouraging him to go deeper. Jack obliges, sucking and tonguing the head, gliding up and down with his soft lips, tickling the sensitive underside.
"That's good, Jack, ahhh," Ianto sighs with pleasure. It's the best thing he's ever felt, Jack's teasing hot lips and tongue caressing his swollen shaft. He bucks his hips forward, and Jack grabs his ass and pulls him deeper into his willing mouth.
Jack pauses in his sucking to lick and kiss his balls, and his teasing tongue delicately strokes the sensitive spot just below. It's a new sensation for Ianto, and it feels so good, he wonders why no-one's every done that before. And then, before he can protest, Jack's tongue is laving his most private place, and he flinches and groans a lustful protest.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice strained.
"Licking you. Relax, you'll love it." Jack meets his eyes with a feral grin. He lowers his head and resumes his tongue-lashing, and Ianto closes his eyes, concentrating on the feeling. It's maddening and lovely, Jack's clever tongue licking him, occasionally working the tip inside of him, which makes him cry out and rake his fingers through Jack's hair. He grows accustomed to the feeling, relaxing into it, and Jack moves back to that delicate in-between spot, then he licks and sucks his balls again, and then back to his straining cock for another long, loving suck. He bobs his head, flicking his tongue and making Ianto pant with lust, then moves back to his licking his balls and tonguing his bottom-hole.
Ianto moans freely now, because this is beyond sex, beyond getting off. Jack's driving him mad, sucking his cock and making his ass and balls ache for his tongue, then tickling his hole while his neglected cock throbs and leaks. He plunges his tongue inside and Ianto can't help it, he bucks his hips, wanting him to push in deeper. When Jack replaces his tongue with his moistened finger, Ianto sinks his ass down to drive it in. Jack wraps his lips around his cock again, sucking and teasing, and he crooks his finger, looking for that secret place. Ianto's soft cry tells him he's found it.
"This will make you feel so good, Ianto," whispers Jack, laying a kiss on his belly and wiggling his finger. Ianto clenches his ass, he groans hard but cannot find any words to tell Jack to do it harder, faster. Instead Jack is slow and teasing, his warm mouth and prodding finger make Ianto flush hot with pleasure, feeling a warm glow spreading from his tightening balls to his groin and hips and even down to the soles of his feet. Jack's finger probes him deep, firing all his nerves, making him pant and tremble. He starts to ride himself on Jack's finger, slowly and rhythmically at first, then a little faster. Then suddenly, Jack slides his finger out and Ianto can't quell a helpless moan of loss.
"Let's do it," Ianto says impulsively.
Jack eases a finger back inside Ianto, slides it deep, and starts to work him over again. Ianto clenches his ass and grabs Jack's shoulders hard.
"Are you sure?" Jack asks in a strained voice, and Ianto knows that he's dying to.
"Yeah, let's go," says Ianto breathlessly. But Jack works his finger soothingly, leans down for another loving suck, and asks him again if it's his first time. Ianto nods.
"We'll go slow," Jack reassures him. He reaches over to the narrow shelf tacked to the wall and finds a small glass bottle. He rubs it between his palms to warm it, then pours the oil all over Ianto's cock, a veritable puddle, letting it drip down between his legs. He pours it over his fingers, saturating them. He rubs the head of his cock over his hole, again and again, until Ianto grabs his hips and holds him steady, urging him on. Their lips touch; Jack kisses him slowly and sweetly as he enters him. Ianto inhales sharply, then exhales with a measured breath. Jack groans in his ear, motionless except for the tremble in his limbs, struggling to contain his lust. He lets Ianto take the lead, waits until Ianto's arms clasp around his waist, until his gorgeous lips are parted on a moan, before he finally rocks into him.
Ianto responds with delight; the sensation is delicate and new, and Jack thrusts his hips languidly, drawing him out. He leans down for a deep wet kiss, quenching Ianto's groans. "Oh, darling," he breathes into Ianto's ear. He fucks him in slow grinding circles, relishing Ianto's short sobs of pleasure, the way his fingers dig into his hips. He pauses to spread Ianto's legs wider, and leans down for another deep kiss. He rests his hands on his narrow ribcage, feeling the ridges between his fingers.
"Jack," Ianto's voice is pleading, submissive. He jogs his hips impatiently.
"Oh, yes," sighs Jack, resting his lips on Ianto's neck, tasting the salt, feeling the throb of his pulse fluttering under his lips. Deep inside Ianto, he's hard and aching; if he relaxes for a moment, he'll spill over.
Ianto's tight, and his clenching makes it tighter, so that Jack catches his breath. Ianto's kisses grow sloppy and when he starts to whimper with every stroke, Jack finally begins to rock into him, leaning low so that Ianto's hard cock is trapped between their bellies, and Ianto shivers with a hot thrill of lust.
"You hot little crumpet," Jack says affectionately, pinching his nipples.
Ianto groans hard. Every stroke of Jack's cock nudges his prostate with electrifying pleasure. Just when he thinks it can't get any better, Jack slips his hand between their bodies, grasps his cock tightly, and starts to stroke him. He alternates between thrusting and stroking until Ianto wants nothing more but for Jack to synchronize. Each thrust sends a warm flood of pleasure deep inside him, and each stroke of his cock is a sharp shock of lust which makes Ianto cry out. He's moaning and gasping constantly now, as Jack shortens the time between rocking into him and stroking his cock, until at last he is doing both simultaneously. Ianto groans helplessly, and presses his palms against Jack's muscular backside, wanting to draw him deeper and faster. There is a fiery ache in his cock, and a riot of lust and pleasure deep inside him.
"Ah, Jack, fuck me harder, fuck… oh!" Ianto gasps out as Jack obliges, rocking a little faster, and his hand drop from Ianto's cock as his own pleasure overwhelms him. Jack at last begins to lose control. He pounds into Ianto, all delicacy and care forgotten. Ianto's cock is trapped between their slick bellies, and the pressure is good, though not as good as Jack's artful hand. But Jack can no longer compose himself, and with each thrust, he moans shamelessly.
"Darling, I'm going to come so soon," Jack whispers brokenly, and his lips find Ianto's in a deep wet tongue kiss. Ianto moans around it, the pleasure so intense he is barely able to keep his lips on Jack's. And then Jack's hand finds his cock again and that's all he can take.
"Oh, harder, please, Jack," he moans shamelessly, and Jack obliges him, his hand a tight slick home for Ianto's throbbing cock. There is a sweet burgeoning ache deep in his body, and he feels a sudden synchronization of cock and ass and Jack's soft lips and tongue, until everything rises together and becomes almost too much for him to bear.
Jack cries out in unbridled passion, a sound unlike any Ianto has ever heard before. Once again he bends deep to kiss Ianto wetly, their tongues twined together, until Ianto can't kiss for groaning, and he feels himself going over the edge. His thigh muscles tense and clench in lustful anticipation. The pleasure is so sharp and acute that he cries out as the waves crest deep inside him and his cock pulses and with one last sharp squeeze from Jack, he starts to come in long agonizing spurts.
"Ahh, fuck!" he cries out in a frenzy of unbridled lust. Jack's eyes widen and he finally allows himself to feel the full brunt of the pleasure of fucking Ianto's tight little hole, of kissing his soft rosy lips and handling his delightfully hard cock. His balls tighten and draw up and with one last rough thrust he too comes with a hard groan.
"Ohhhh, oh, yes," he moans, his cock pulsing. And Ianto answers him with soft little sobs as he too feels his balls emptying in long fiery streams of pleasure, and each thrust of Jack's hips makes him come just a little bit more. They shudder together for long minutes, and when the first violent waves of pleasure die down, Ianto lifts his head for a kiss. Jack kisses softly, breaking the kiss only when another little helpless paroxysm of pleasure overtakes him, because it takes him a long time to finish. Ianto feels pleasantly full and satisfied but Jack is still thrusting languidly, emptying himself fully, until with a final hard short groan, his pleasure is complete.
"Darling!" he whispers, as his head nestles into Ianto's shoulder. They are still joined together, and Jack's in no hurry to uncouple. Ianto strokes his back and shoulders, beautifully muscled from many lifetimes of conditioning. He mumbles sweet blandishments in Jack's ear, but there's nothing particular that needs to be said. Jack doesn't sleep, but his eyes are closed, and he's a dead weight across Ianto's body, but Ianto doesn't mind. He feels drowsy and well-fucked, but also safe and loved in Jack's embrace.
"Sleep a little while, love," whispers Jack, as Ianto starts to drift off. "I'll be here when you awake." And Ianto falls into a deep, untroubled sleep, and his last waking thoughts are of Jack.