Flying Solo (1/1)
TITLE: Flying Solo
AUTHOR: naddypants
RATING: NC-17 for the smut.
CHARACTERS: Jack/Ianto, team.
SUMMARY: Ianto and Jack's date goes awry, leaving Ianto supposedly on his own. Ends with some nice fluff. :)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Heck I haven't written a smut in...oh too long. Felt like I ought to fix that for Smut Sunday. Special shout out to my beta melthorne for putting up with me. :P Bless her.
DISCLAIMER: If I owned Ianto, would I be writing this about him? And the same goes for Jack. Seriously.
Dedicated to just_being_me08 (because the mention of smuff in one of her blogs spawned this) and really everyone who reads my fics. Thanks to you all. :)
Ianto poked at his comms unit and fell back heavily onto his new leather chair (the kind that hugged your ass just so, the very one Jack had specifically ordered for his Christmas present), sighing in the process. He'd only gotten into his Grangetown flat after another Weevil sighting, expecting Jack to be there in the flat waiting already, preferably naked.
Which he wasn't.
And as a result, Ianto Jones was tapping into Jack's comm frequency to see where he was - as the aforementioned Weevils had split up their date - and Ianto was getting to the point where if he wasn't sated soon, his trousers might explode as the scenes Jack was painting with his masterful imagination were driving him ever closer to his breaking point.
"Jack?" He tried, unbuttoning his waistcoat in the process.
Nothing in reply. Either his comm was dead or Jack was.
Sitting up, he pulled his waistcoat off and let it fall to the floor beside his jacket, watching intently as the red silk of the lining fluttered delicately onto the laminate flooring. That'll be wrinkled in the morning, he thought to himself. But surprisingly, he didn't care.
He considered making himself a coffee or watching a bit of TV, but neither seemed particularly appealing at that moment, because all he really wanted was to end the evening the way he'd planned to; with Jack, in their bed.
But of course it would never turn out right. Even when Tosh's Rift predictor programme said they were clear for the rest of the night.
He rolled his eyes and sank ever deeper into the chair, his eyes drifting shut in his exhausted state until he noted the throbbing in his trousers was going to hinder any thoughts of sleeping if it continued to press against the zip of said trousers. And so, he unzipped the trousers and slipped them off, along with the red boxers he'd chosen to wear.
In fact, nearly every accenting feature of his outfit was red. Red pinstripes on his suit, red shirt, red designs on his tie, red underwear...Now all he needed was that bloody red UNIT cap and Jack would be over the moon.
But hell was he aching.
Nonetheless, he knew when Jack finally dragged himself home, he'd have plenty of action for Ianto. So he'd best get what sleep he could in now, before then.
Gwen wouldn't appreciate another shockingly bad coffee in the morning. Once, more fool Gwen (She knew better than to interrupt them in the middle of the night when they were having some much needed sleep after some mind-blowing sex). Twice, more fool Ianto. He was capable of making blindingly good coffee with his eyes shut and one hand tied behind his back. Sheer exhaustion wasn't an excuse.
Even so, that ache between his legs wasn't going away. If anything, it was intensifying. He frowned and lowered his hand, stroking his index finger along the bottom of his erection gently, sending shivers down his spine.
For the sake of some sleep, who's it guna hurt? He thought to himself, his eyes fluttering closed again as he wrapped his hand all the way around it for the first time since his teens.
He thought he heard a soft gasp. Opening his eyes in shock, he looked around to reveal that it was probably just himself. Letting out a dark laugh he continued, watching the scenes Jack had described earlier play out in his head, his hand moving to keep up, to stimulate everything in the perceived way.
His breath quickened and his skin shone as he twisted and pulled himself to pleasure. He glanced up and took in the sight of himself in the mirror, cheeks flushed, deep crimson shirt open, revealing his heaving chest shimmering with sweat, and nothing any lower than that except his hand stroking up and down on his impressive erection.
It was quite a sight to behold, making it one of those moments in which he didn't think of himself as that awkward, self-depreciating Valley's boy in a suit, but rather, Ianto Jones, worthy lover of Captain Jack Harkness.
He continued his ministrations, imagining himself, still in the shirt, (God Jack was right, red is my fucking colour. Bastard, Ianto thought, reflecting on the image he'd seen in the mirror) going through the motions. It was amazing.
But it wasn't enough...
Soon he was thrusting his fingers in and out of himself too, imagining it being Jack giving him the sweet torture until suddenly it dawned upon him he was being watched. His hands flew to his sides, embarrassed, and his face flushed for entirely different reasons - well not entirely...
For a strangely familiar voice had just drifted across the apartment, whispering "Fuck Ianto...the things you...oh...shit..."
Ianto stood up and frowned, placing his hands firmly on his hips, not really embarrassed about his level of nudity, but rather being caught in the act. "You. I thought you were still out"
Jack appeared to disappear within himself. "Uh...yeah. I was in the bedroom sleeping. Funny how the door opening didn't wake me, but the second my mind registers that there is sex in the building, BAM I'm awake. And bloody hell Ianto, I would willingly trade my immortality to see you like that again. Do you have any idea what you were putting me through?"
Unfortunately, just then Ianto's tiredness hit him across the head like a baseball bat. He swayed on his feet momentarily before righting himself as best he could. He felt like his fifteen year old self in front of the judge again after the Topman fiasco as he summoned up the courage to justify his actions to Jack.
Instead he just yawned and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles.
Jack smiled and pulled Ianto into a warm embrace. "You're exhausted, you are - look at me, I'm going native. Remind me to spend less time with Gwen - c'mon, let's get you to bed. You need your sleep. Tosh's predictor programme says there's going to be heightened activity for the next two days. Which, if we look at tonight that mean's there'll be nothing during that-"
Ianto yawned again. "Just shut up and take me to bed Jack"
"Sir yes sir," Jack said tenderly, leading the way to the bedroom. "Keep the red shirt on though, we could use it in the morning"
Ianto's eyes widened and he shook his head. "Nu-uh Jack. If you have plans for it, it at least gets hung up"
Jack shrugged. "As long as you put it on after I wake you up," he said, winking.
"Ohh is that a threat or a promise?" Ianto replied, nuzzling into Jack's side and drifting almost instantly as he deduced that Jack must be the only reason he wasn't an insomniac.
Well, you've gotten this far! Thanks!
But I'd really appreciate if you'd comment, and let me know what you think. :)