Fiction: Seperation Anxiety
Jack tore through the hotel room door and flung himself, bodily onto the mattress with a deep groan. Ianto was a slut. A bloody, dirty slut… He sat up after a moment, shrugging out of his coat and flung that too, to the floor. He reached down and pulled out his mobile.
Sexting the whole day with Ianto in Cardiff and himself in London, was easily not the brightest idea. Considering that he was in the company of higher ups and politicians, he was lucky that he hadn’t lost focus while tying to keep the funding they had and the classified information, classified. The many levels of sluttiness that Ianto was capable of never ceased to amaze him.
‘Oh, I’d have your cock inside me, sir,’
‘Yes…your mouth…right there on me…’
Jack groaned as he scrolled through the day’s texts. He hadn’t had the luxury of replying save for a couple of times at lunch. That didn’t keep Ianto from practically spamming his inbox. They were giving him a raging hard on under the table while the head doctor of UNIT was rambling on. Something about the mating habits of a particular species that had decided to colonize in Aruba on a nudist beach last summer. He had been asked if he had anything to add to the subject, (after all, he was quite familiar with the species). Jack had only smirked and answered that it was nothing that wasn’t pornographic. That earned him a wave of eye rolls and exasperated groans from around the room.
The hard on was a permanent fixture that day with the many, many texts, pictures and distance between them. Jack sighed; the worst part was Ianto knew exactly what he was doing to him. He shifted, pulling at his trousers before he realized that he was not required that evening and all but ripped out of them. Now that he thought about it, might as well undress completely. He dumped his clothes on the floor and lay back against the headboard.
His hand caressed across his chest and then slipped down to grasp himself. Jack sighed in relief and spread his legs as he settled down in a comfortable position, trying to remember that trick Ianto had used that time in the SUV last week.
His eyes slid closed, remembering Ianto’s parted fuck me lips and his soft pale skin. Or, last week, when Jack had sent him home early, he had come home to Ianto spread out on the bed, tied up, candles lit and their entire toy box practically lined up at the foot of the bed for Jack’s pleasure. Right now, the captain’s mouth was practically watering at the memory.
The phone rang.
Jack’s eyes snapped open. Why the hell was he doing this to himself, when he could just as easily call Ianto and enjoy the separation with him? His grin turned smug when he saw the caller.
“Hey, sexy,”
“Oh, you’re masturbating,” Ianto said dryly. “I’ll call back when you’re finished.”
“I am not!” Jack was exasperated, only a little embarrassed that Ianto had caught him. He settled down further on the comforter, his grin still spreading. “Anyways…you called?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I did,” Ianto was flipping open files on Jack’s desk. The others had decided to be slack and give themselves the night off since Jack was out of town. Ianto didn’t argue since he was anxious to be home too. Except that, home seemed to be empty with out Jack, and he’d much rather be wrapped up in a warm blanket in Jack’s office eating pizza than home alone in a large empty bed. “Martha called today,”
“She did, did she?”
“Yes, she said that cute commander you’ve been making eyes at is happily married and she expects that to remain so,” Ianto was dry about it. Jack only laughed in answer.
“Tell her not to worry,”
“And Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“She means it,” Ianto’s voice was soft, and wavered on the edge of emotion. Jack’s jovial mood plummeted and suddenly he felt guilty; guilty for leaving him so suddenly again after he had only just gotten back not so long ago. Amongst the lust and the mischievous texts, Jack had very nearly forgotten how much he missed having Ianto sit on his desk while he did paperwork. Or better yet, in his lap while he read and signed reports and drank coffee. Even better still, under his desk while Owen tried to explain the latest species discovery that Jack couldn’t give a rat’s ass about because he’d already fucked three members of said alien species.
Jack forced his mind to return to the present. Over the phone, he could hear Ianto’s heavy, restrained breathing. He felt his heart began to ache, as the pain of missing Ianto hit him full force.
“I miss you too,” Jack whispered softly. He crawled to the edge of the bed and pulled out of the suitcase on the floor one of Ianto’s shirts he had stowed away when his lover wasn’t looking. He pulled up the red cotton and slipped it over his shoulders. He buried his face into the material and inhaled deeply.
“Did you manage to accomplish anything today?” Ianto’s voice broke Jack’s daydream. Jack folded the material and placed it beside him where he arranged his body to lie across the blankets.
“Yeah, I got a ten percent increase on our funding, so Owen can get that scanner he was talking about, and you can get your new coffee machine.” Jack did not want to talk about how he’d managed to get the funding for Ianto’s coffee habit. He wanted an entirely sexier conversation, and this…was not it. He could hear Ianto’s breathy chuckle and it sent fire through his blood vessels.
“I can order that coffee from Madagascar you like so much?” Their coffee bill was split between coffee they drank at home and coffee they drank at Torchwood. If it was brewed in the hub, it was a company expense, and Jack had expensive taste. Ianto’s voice sent shivers down Jack’s spine.
“Yeah, you can put it on order now,” Jack sighed.
“Excellent,” Was that lip smacking, Jack heard? His somber mood instantly lifted when he saw the image of Ianto licking his lips in his mind’s eye. His forgotten arousal instantly perked up.
“So, tell me, Ianto, how was it one of my busy employees managed to find the time to text their boyfriend all during work today?” Jack drawled out innocently, he could hear the hitch in Ianto’s breathing, excitement mixed with worry. Ianto scrambled for an answer and Jack allowed himself a moment of smugness.
“It was a slow day today,” he answered. “Barely even had a need to leave,”
“Well, the lack of productivity is inexcusable Ianto, however,” Jack allowed himself a moment to swim in Ianto’s scent. “I must say, that guy must be incredibly lucky to have a sexy lover like that.” Ianto was trying not to laugh. There was a slight pause. Jack concentrated on Ianto’s breath. “Are you home?”
“No, I’m in your office,”
“You should be resting though, it’s eight ‘o’ clock, I’m not there, everyone else must’ve ducked out by now.” Jack knew better than to think he could trust that Owen would not leave if given the chance. Gwen and Tosh however could be talked into almost anything, if the talking was done right. If Ianto wasn’t home, then that means he must be missing Jack more than he wanted to admit.
“I’ll be fine Jack,” Ianto waved it off. “Besides, I wanted to reorganize your desk.”
“Are you alone?” Jack changed the subject, all but purring into the receiver. He could hear Ianto’s shiver.
“Yes, very,”
“Mmmm…what are you wearing?” Jack was interested now. He rolled onto his back, out right purring as he did. Ianto’s breath shuddered. Truth was, he was curled up on the sofa in Jack’s office wearing one of his shirts; only, one of his shirts. He figured it all was fair considering he found his scarlet shirt missing from his wardrobe this morning. And Jack thought he wouldn’t notice! However, Ianto was not about to admit that to Jack just now, so he made something up.
“Only my trousers, sir,” Ianto’s voice dropped a few octaves, and Jack had to keep in the groan that threatened to spill out. The breathy laugh from the other end told Jack he wasn’t as restrained as he had hoped. “What are you wearing?” The question was turned on him and Jack brushed his cheek against the red shirt. For a moment he contemplated Ianto’s scent, and then he grinned.
“Nothing,”
“Already?”
“Been naked since I got in here,” Jack announced smugly. He wished he could see the expression across those pretty Welsh features. Which lead to another train of thought, entirely different, that included Ianto’s sublime expression of euphoria caused by Jack himself.
“As only the Captain Jack Harkness is capable of,” Ianto rolled his eyes. Jack could hear the sarcasm dripping off his voice.
“What can I say? They just fall off sometimes…” Jack was not the least bit ashamed. Why should he, when Ianto appreciated his body so much? His body hummed at the memory of their last time together the night before Jack had left. Ianto was crawling all over his body, biting in sensitive places and marking that skin as his own. He looked down now at the trail of soft healing discolorations across his body and tenderly touched a few. The purpose was pure possession, Ianto marking Jack as his. If Jack was going to fuck around, he’d be dammed if whoever he let into his bed didn’t know that he had been laid claim to. At the time, Jack had thought it was sexy as hell, now, he realized why Ianto had left so many. They were more than just reminders, they were brands of ownership. With that epiphany, Jack felt like such a fool.
“Hmmm…is that what they call it these days?” Ianto grinned. “I miss you,”
“How much?” Jack hummed his hand already sneaking down in self caresses.
“A lot,” Ianto was clipped. “Been wanting you all day,” Jack’s body hummed with the thought. The fire in his blood heated and he realized that those texts were more that just a jab at humor.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain decorum when you keep sending me all those texts?” Jack shifted his position. Ianto suddenly moaned, the sound ripped through Jack and left him achingly hard. His mouth went dry. “What are you doing?”
“Yes…I know how difficult it is for you…” Ianto moaned again, and Jack could only just imagine what he must be doing to himself.
“Ianto…” Jack pleaded. He had to know. Right now those filthy noises he was making drove Jack insane not knowing what the cause was.
“I’m thinking about you,” the breathy sigh was music to Jack’s ears. He wanted to see Ianto’s face, watch him writhe against the sheets of their bed, and feel the smooth skin under his hands. Being in this room by himself was lonely, and with Ianto still in Cardiff, he’d spent the day more annoyed than he knew he should’ve been. “Do you remember that time when Andy caught us in the plass?” Ianto breathed.
How could he forget? It was two in the morning and Jack was fucking Ianto against one of the cool, metal towers, and Andy had just so happened to walk by on the beat when he found them. Andy’s jaw dropped, Jack was grinning and Ianto was doing his best to straighten his clothes. Usually, Andy might’ve been persuaded to leave them alone, but his new partner had been with him and he was not so easily persuaded.
“Yeah…” Jack answered, his own hand finally reaching its goal. Jack sighed in relief, oh yes…this was what he wanted.
“And the last time on Owen’s desk…?”
“Couldn’t forget if I tried,” Jack’s hand rose and fell in a languid rhythm. His moans matched Ianto’s, and those breathy whimpers sent shocks through his spine. “When I get back, I want your mouth on me,” Jack whispered, pausing in his own pleasure to hear Ianto gasp. “And then, I’m going to take you home...I’m going to peel off your clothes…”
“Ripping…is not peeling,” Ianto managed between a strangled moan.
“Don’t change the subject.” Jack chastised. “I’m going to take you home Ianto Jones, and I’m going to undress you, and when I do,” Jack paused for effect, loving the strangled noise his lover made. “I’m going to fuck you so hard through the mattress you won’t even remember your name.”
“Are you going to tie me up?” Jack could almost see the way Ianto would’ve looked up at him from under long lashes.
“No, I want to feel your hands on me, Ianto,” Jack whispered. “I miss they way they feel. I want them on me now.”
“Doing what?” Ianto’s voice was soft. Jack closed his eyes and imagined Ianto’s lips brushing against his cheek and throat as he so loved him to do. Jack groaned as he thought about it.
“Fuck…”
“Are you that far gone?” Ianto’s smirk could be heard even by Jack, and the Captain honestly, didn’t care. He let himself moan loud and long into the receiver, his hand finally taking him in that perfect rhythm. They never did this often enough. Just talking and touching and loving. Right now, he wanted Ianto in his lap, chest pressed against his as he moaned and touched himself.
“Yeah…fuck, Ianto, do you have any idea how hard you make me?” Jack’s voice was strained. He gripped himself harder, gasping into the touch, just the way he liked it. “How hot you make me?” He whispered. Ianto swallowed. “I want you inside me, right here, on this bed. Then I want you to fuck me against the window.”
“Jack, what are you doing to yourself?” Ianto’s voice was soft. “Tell me,”
“I’ve got my hand stroking myself off, and Ianto, it feels so good,” Jack purred. “But not as good as you,” He allowed himself a couple of moments more of pleasure before he adds. “And you? Are you close?”
“Jack, I’ve been close,” Ianto suddenly whimpered and Jack almost came. What the hell was he doing to himself? He could just see him there, laid back on the sofa in his office, naked and wonton as he fucked himself on his own fingers. Heat rose up in Jack’s cheeks and he was achingly close.
“Yeah…so am I…” Jack sighed. He wants Ianto right now, so bad it hurts. He’s pretty sure Ianto feels the same too, and wonders after they finish if Ianto will curl up and cry himself to sleep? Ianto is not that sentimental is he? Would he be so sentimental as to be wearing his shirt? Did that make Jack sentimental to have Ianto’s?
“Jack…I need…I need…” Ianto’s strangled whimper came through, causing Jack’s mouth go dry.
“Yes. Yes Ianto.” He encourages. “Now…oh god, come for me baby,” he listens carefully. “Let me hear you. I need to hear you,”
Ianto moaned deep in his throat, reaching a height in pitch and ending on a soft, lonely whimper. It’s enough to throw Jack over the edge and he lets himself howl in delight for Ianto’s pleasure. He collapsed back onto the bed, panting heavily, his belly and hand coated in come. He feels empty, with out Ianto next to him to share in his after glow.
“Jack…?” Ianto’s voice is soft, pleading.
“Yes, baby, I’m here,” Jack wants to pull him into his arms and cradle him against his chest, showering sweet kisses along his jaw. He missed that too: Ianto’s soft kisses. It didn’t matter what context it was, Ianto’s lips were always soft and giving. He reached for Ianto’s shirt and rested his head against it to be swathed by the faint trace of his cologne.
“I miss you,” he choked. Jack sat up.
“Don’t cry.” His mood shot from content to nervous and worried in no time flat. He was stuck here in London and Ianto was in Cardiff. He couldn’t get to him even if he tried.
“…’m not crying,” Ianto muttered. It wasn’t fair that Jack had to leave so soon after he only just came home. Even if it was London, neither of them wanted the other to leave. Ianto especially. Ianto turned his head into Jack’s shirt inhaling what was left of 51st century pheromones. The way Jack smelled always made him dizzy.
“I didn’t want to leave either,” Jack whispered for him. “You have no idea how much I missed you,” And he meant it. Ianto had no idea just how long Jack had been gone, and he wanted to keep it that way.
“It seems like you’re never here long enough,” Ianto sighed. Jack felt a hole open up in his belly.
“I’ll be home soon, Ianto, I promise,” Jack said firmly, they paused. The other didn’t trust themselves to speak. Didn’t trust the admissions or the restraint they had on their emotions. He waits for Ianto to speak, for his answer, it never comes. “I won’t leave you,” Again was not in that sentence.
“It’s just for a couple of more days,” Ianto finally says. Jack swallows thickly.
“Yeah…it is. I’ll be home then.” Jack promised softly. “And I’ll take you out to that Chinese place you like so much.”
“No movie this time?” Ianto’s voice sounds as if he’s perked up.
“I suppose we could if that’s what you want,” Jack allows himself to smile now that Ianto was reassured. “I like movies,” That wasn’t entirely true, Jack didn’t hate movies, but he never really had the time to go to one either. He hadn’t taken anyone else to see a movie since the late nineties when he was with Alan, and wasn’t that a century ago?
“Sounds nice,” Ianto barely suppresses the yawn in time.
“You need sleep,”
“The hell I do,” Ianto says gruffly. He does not like Jack telling him what he does and doesn’t need. Sleep being one of them.
“Baby, please, don’t wait up for me.” Jack pleads softly. “I’ll be home soon, and we’ll take the day off and you can show me just how much you missed me,” His hand twitched, wishing he could reach up and stroke away Ianto’s hair and kiss his forehead. “You’re wearing my shirt aren’t you?” Jack’s grin is wicked, and he wants to hear Ianto blush or laugh, anything but his soft whimpers of loneliness.
He gets exactly that.
“Yeah, I am,” Ianto admits, his cheeks coloring darkly.
“Which one?”
“The green one,”
“I was looking for that,”
“You should’ve packed it,” Ianto said dryly. “But then, you have my scarlet shirt and probably wanked on it, so I consider this even trade.” Jack’s jaw is open and he wonders how Ianto knows it’s missing.
“I did not wank on it,” Jack’s tone is the one of the falsely accused. Ianto barely believes him.
“Just come home, Jack.” Ianto whispers a final time. Jack nods, knowing Ianto cannot see him.