Ten Drabbles
Yes, ten! Inspired by a table of prompts from lover100, various ratings and season settings, all Jack/Ianto (Torchwood).
Setting: Post-Countrycide
Metal Caress (#24 Handcuffs)
Jack fingers the metal bracelets he has withdrawn from his desk. He knows this is wrong, very wrong, but the image keeps on coming back to him. Ianto sprawled in the dirt, face shiny with sweat and blood, eyes wide and wild, gag biting into the flesh of his cheeks, hands bound behind his back.
Thing of it is, he very much wants to see Ianto like this again. But naked, definitely naked. Maybe without the blood. Eventually without the gag. He has plans for that beautiful mouth, afterall.
He strokes the handcuffs now as he might caress a lover.
***
Setting: Post-Lost Souls
Laying Ghosts (#28 Roleplay)
"You're a lowsy PA" Ianto noted disapprovingly.
"I know. Forgive me Ambassador."
"Have you read the report?"
"I have! It's right here!" Jack's enthusiasm faded as he pawed at the mountains of neglected paperwork on his desk. "Somewhere."
"Signed the expenses?"
"Uh, no..." Jack made hopeful, puppy dog eyes. "Guess I'll be working late again sir?"
"Definitely."
He reached tentatively for Ianto's zipper. "Should I be taking this down Ambassador?"
"Absolutely. Some urgent, uh, filing needs attending to."
It seemed like as good a way as any of laying ghosts to rest. Or trying to...
***
Setting: S1
In Control (#60 Control)
"Ianto. That look…"
Ianto has no idea what Jack means. Not a sartorial comment, surely.
"In the cells. Earlier."
Ianto trawls memories of the day's events, is still at a loss.
"You... the Weevil…"
Weevil retrieval?
"The way you handled it, the look on your face."
Jack's expression seems needy now, quite an alien concept. Greedy, yes. Playful. Insistent. Never needy. "I'd give anything to see that look again."
You just have to take control, let them know who's boss and…
"Ah."
"You want me to beg? 'Cause, y'know, if that's what it takes..."
***
Setting: Pre-Cyberwoman
Secrets (#61 Secret)
Secrets. So many secrets here that they keep from the world. But the ones they keep from each other are potentially more damaging.
One too many encounters in the long, dark hours and their masks will be stripped away, surely? But no matter how many times it happens, Ianto is surprised at the ease with which he manages to conceal his own mysteries. His guilt-drenched love for the two most important creatures in his private universe.
So for now he and Jack continue to skirt around their truths, camouflaging their mysteries with naked shadow dances in the midnight Hub.
***
Setting: Post-They Keep Killing Suzie
Nothing Suits Him Better (#64 Shield)
The suits of Ianto Jones have played many roles.
A snare, to attract and impress. Foolish Jack!
A disguise, concealing the player who conned the conman in spectacular fashion. Blind Jack!
A shield, like armour-plating. Protecting himself from feeling, giving, receiving. Sad Jack.
Just a style now, Ianto being more at ease in his own skin. Happy Jack!
But nothing suits him better than when he loosens that devilishly crimson tie, inviting Jack to unwrap something special. Excited Jack!
Ianto is something, someone special. If only he were man enough to tell him. Lived too long, hurt too much Jack...
***
Setting: S2
A Bedtime Story (#65 Bed)
Once upon a time, Jack's haven beneath his office had been a quiet, solitary space. Somewhere he could imagine himself any place else, in any other time. Exactly how Jack had liked it, but no longer.
Nowadays he anticipated what awaited him on his narrow bed - sometimes a freshly laundered shirt, or a note reminding him of tasks 'to be done' in the morning. But best of all...
"Someone's been sleeping in my bed."
"But he's wide awake now."
Creaking bedframe, groaning mattress, muffled laughter, panted pleas, gasped endearments.
No happily-ever-afters, perhaps; but happy nows.
***
Setting: Post-They Keep Killing Suzie
Freedom (#68 Floor)
In a frenzy of teeth and tongues and nails, they lurch through the Hub, no light, no air between them. Biting, scratching, bruisingly careening from wall to workstation, almost making it to Jack's office until gravity wins out and they crash to the floor. The force of the impact and the weight of Jack's body knock the breath from Ianto's lungs. Fighting for oxygen, he summons up the energy to buck. They roll and pin and roll again, boots scraping shins, cotton tearing.
Somehow he is freed from his shirt, freed from the past, living for now.
***
Setting: Post-Cyberwoman
Tightrope (#73 Dream)
"I breathed life into you once. I'm part of you now."
"No!" Ianto choked, as Jack softly kissed his brow.
"Always." He pushed hard, sent Ianto sprawling onto his back, moved to stand over him. "Always…"
Ianto woke with a sob, tears prickling on his skin, making it feel hot, tight. Stumbling to the bathroom, despairing at the wild-eyed stranger that faced him in the mirror, he clung to the edge of the basin as if his life depended on it. He had no idea how he could possibly survive this tightrope walk of love and hate. Didn't know if he wanted to.
***
Setting: S2
Caffeine Kick (#75 Scent)
He stretches out his hand. The warmth of Jack's body lingers on the sheet, the hollow Jack's head has made in the pillow remains. Seems like he always wakes up alone, which saddens him. His body makes petulant demands for Jack's fingers and hot breath. But he can still smell him on his skin, and that suffices as he strokes himself to surly satisfaction.
Another familiar aroma drifts down…
The coffee isn't as good as he makes, but he is seduced by Jack's attempt to please. And by his ardent caffeine-scented 'Good morning' kisses.
***
Setting: Post-They Keep Killing Suzie
Harmless Clouds (#92 Pant)
Months of tension, anger and frustration lift, drifting and dissipating like harmless clouds. He hears Jack panting as he sinks down beside him, but cannot make sense of his words.
"…hate me?"
"Don't…"
"...still."
It's all a jumble. His imagination floats upwards, looks down on them lying there together, torsos sticky with sweat and semen, trousers around their knees in undignified disarray. It's a glorious, ridiculous sight and he would laugh, but he doesn't have the energy. Instead, he reaches for Jack's hand, gently squeezing a wordless reassurance before he slides into sated, untroubled sleep.
Setting: Post-Countrycide
Metal Caress (#24 Handcuffs)
Jack fingers the metal bracelets he has withdrawn from his desk. He knows this is wrong, very wrong, but the image keeps on coming back to him. Ianto sprawled in the dirt, face shiny with sweat and blood, eyes wide and wild, gag biting into the flesh of his cheeks, hands bound behind his back.
Thing of it is, he very much wants to see Ianto like this again. But naked, definitely naked. Maybe without the blood. Eventually without the gag. He has plans for that beautiful mouth, afterall.
He strokes the handcuffs now as he might caress a lover.
***
Setting: Post-Lost Souls
Laying Ghosts (#28 Roleplay)
"You're a lowsy PA" Ianto noted disapprovingly.
"I know. Forgive me Ambassador."
"Have you read the report?"
"I have! It's right here!" Jack's enthusiasm faded as he pawed at the mountains of neglected paperwork on his desk. "Somewhere."
"Signed the expenses?"
"Uh, no..." Jack made hopeful, puppy dog eyes. "Guess I'll be working late again sir?"
"Definitely."
He reached tentatively for Ianto's zipper. "Should I be taking this down Ambassador?"
"Absolutely. Some urgent, uh, filing needs attending to."
It seemed like as good a way as any of laying ghosts to rest. Or trying to...
***
Setting: S1
In Control (#60 Control)
"Ianto. That look…"
Ianto has no idea what Jack means. Not a sartorial comment, surely.
"In the cells. Earlier."
Ianto trawls memories of the day's events, is still at a loss.
"You... the Weevil…"
Weevil retrieval?
"The way you handled it, the look on your face."
Jack's expression seems needy now, quite an alien concept. Greedy, yes. Playful. Insistent. Never needy. "I'd give anything to see that look again."
You just have to take control, let them know who's boss and…
"Ah."
"You want me to beg? 'Cause, y'know, if that's what it takes..."
***
Setting: Pre-Cyberwoman
Secrets (#61 Secret)
Secrets. So many secrets here that they keep from the world. But the ones they keep from each other are potentially more damaging.
One too many encounters in the long, dark hours and their masks will be stripped away, surely? But no matter how many times it happens, Ianto is surprised at the ease with which he manages to conceal his own mysteries. His guilt-drenched love for the two most important creatures in his private universe.
So for now he and Jack continue to skirt around their truths, camouflaging their mysteries with naked shadow dances in the midnight Hub.
***
Setting: Post-They Keep Killing Suzie
Nothing Suits Him Better (#64 Shield)
The suits of Ianto Jones have played many roles.
A snare, to attract and impress. Foolish Jack!
A disguise, concealing the player who conned the conman in spectacular fashion. Blind Jack!
A shield, like armour-plating. Protecting himself from feeling, giving, receiving. Sad Jack.
Just a style now, Ianto being more at ease in his own skin. Happy Jack!
But nothing suits him better than when he loosens that devilishly crimson tie, inviting Jack to unwrap something special. Excited Jack!
Ianto is something, someone special. If only he were man enough to tell him. Lived too long, hurt too much Jack...
***
Setting: S2
A Bedtime Story (#65 Bed)
Once upon a time, Jack's haven beneath his office had been a quiet, solitary space. Somewhere he could imagine himself any place else, in any other time. Exactly how Jack had liked it, but no longer.
Nowadays he anticipated what awaited him on his narrow bed - sometimes a freshly laundered shirt, or a note reminding him of tasks 'to be done' in the morning. But best of all...
"Someone's been sleeping in my bed."
"But he's wide awake now."
Creaking bedframe, groaning mattress, muffled laughter, panted pleas, gasped endearments.
No happily-ever-afters, perhaps; but happy nows.
***
Setting: Post-They Keep Killing Suzie
Freedom (#68 Floor)
In a frenzy of teeth and tongues and nails, they lurch through the Hub, no light, no air between them. Biting, scratching, bruisingly careening from wall to workstation, almost making it to Jack's office until gravity wins out and they crash to the floor. The force of the impact and the weight of Jack's body knock the breath from Ianto's lungs. Fighting for oxygen, he summons up the energy to buck. They roll and pin and roll again, boots scraping shins, cotton tearing.
Somehow he is freed from his shirt, freed from the past, living for now.
***
Setting: Post-Cyberwoman
Tightrope (#73 Dream)
"I breathed life into you once. I'm part of you now."
"No!" Ianto choked, as Jack softly kissed his brow.
"Always." He pushed hard, sent Ianto sprawling onto his back, moved to stand over him. "Always…"
Ianto woke with a sob, tears prickling on his skin, making it feel hot, tight. Stumbling to the bathroom, despairing at the wild-eyed stranger that faced him in the mirror, he clung to the edge of the basin as if his life depended on it. He had no idea how he could possibly survive this tightrope walk of love and hate. Didn't know if he wanted to.
***
Setting: S2
Caffeine Kick (#75 Scent)
He stretches out his hand. The warmth of Jack's body lingers on the sheet, the hollow Jack's head has made in the pillow remains. Seems like he always wakes up alone, which saddens him. His body makes petulant demands for Jack's fingers and hot breath. But he can still smell him on his skin, and that suffices as he strokes himself to surly satisfaction.
Another familiar aroma drifts down…
The coffee isn't as good as he makes, but he is seduced by Jack's attempt to please. And by his ardent caffeine-scented 'Good morning' kisses.
***
Setting: Post-They Keep Killing Suzie
Harmless Clouds (#92 Pant)
Months of tension, anger and frustration lift, drifting and dissipating like harmless clouds. He hears Jack panting as he sinks down beside him, but cannot make sense of his words.
"…hate me?"
"Don't…"
"...still."
It's all a jumble. His imagination floats upwards, looks down on them lying there together, torsos sticky with sweat and semen, trousers around their knees in undignified disarray. It's a glorious, ridiculous sight and he would laugh, but he doesn't have the energy. Instead, he reaches for Jack's hand, gently squeezing a wordless reassurance before he slides into sated, untroubled sleep.