Fic: Game On: Ianto on the Shooting Range
Title: Game On
Chapter: Ianto on the Shooting Range
Author: remuslives23
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Ianto. Jack/Ianto
Fandom: Torchwood
Word Count: 1985
Summary: Ianto recalls his weapon's training.
Notes: Written for day ten of mmom using lover100 prompt 100: Writer's Choice - gun. For idamus who made me think that it would be fun to have one of the team find a note.
Previously: Ianto in the Archives | Jack in the Main Hub | Ianto in Jack's Office | Jack in the Tourist Office
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russel T Davies, BBC, and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.
Ianto didn't bother turning the overhead lights of the shooting range on; instead, relying on the softer glow of the uplights that were scattered around the edge of the long, cavernous space. There were still several handguns and the accompanying cartridges strewn across the table from Gwen and Tosh's earlier training with Jack - an experience that one had to live to believe. Ianto ran a finger along the distressed wooden surface of the table, recalling his very first weapon's training session with Jack just a few months after his return from suspension. He smiled at the memory as one hand slipped inside his hurriedly unfastened fly, and the other closed around his stopwatch.
*
'We should have done this a long time ago,' Jack said with a frown as he watched Ianto slide the protective glasses and ear wear on. 'But with Suzie we had enough trained field staff then when she... died, Gwen's training took precedence so we could get back to full strength and...'
'I fell through the cracks,' Ianto finished, picking up a pistol. Jack's voice was tinny, coming through the built-in communicators in the ear wear, but the remorse underscoring his words was not lost. 'Not much need for the office boy to receive weapon's training, sir. I understand the delay; I'm not sure I understand the sudden desire to alter the status quo, though.'
He reached for an ammunition magazine, but Jack got there first, scooping it up and holding it out to Ianto. Ianto went to take it from his hand, but Jack held fast. 'Because it's about time you lived up to your potential, Ianto Jones,' he said quietly, looking Ianto in the eye for a long moment before releasing the magazine.
Ianto, a little flustered but trying not to show it, efficiently loaded the gun before turning to face the targets. He felt Jack's eyes on him as he raised his arm and, taking aim, pulled the trigger. The bullet hit what would have been his victim's right arm and Ianto frowned. He was normally a better shot than that.
'Turn more to your side,' Jack suggested and Ianto obeyed, raising the gun again. 'Adjust your hold.'
Ianto's forehead creased as he awkwardly shifted his fingers on the grip in an attempt to follow the instruction. 'Like that?'
Jack shook his head and, after a second of hesitation, he stepped closer, putting his hand over Ianto's. 'Relax your hand,' he said, tapping Ianto's white-knuckled fingers lightly with his own. Ianto's tight hold loosened. 'Right, now you want a strong, stable grip but don't squeeze. Imagine it's your...'
He bit his lip as he abruptly cut himself off. Ianto twisted around, staring curiously at Jack who sighed loudly and said apologetically, 'Pretend it's your dick.'
Ianto refused to visibly react, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst from him.
Only Jack bloody Harkness!
He raised an eyebrow in query. Jack grinned, obviously far more confident and surefooted than he'd been a moment ago, and Ianto wondered if he'd allowed some of his amusement to show after all.
'You want to hold it firmly, you want to feel every bump and curve...' Jack swallowed hard enough for Ianto to hear the gulp as he adjusted Ianto's finger placement then covered the digits with his own, demonstrating the pressure required. 'But you don't want to choke it.'
Ianto made a strangled sound in his throat and Jack hastily let go of his hand. 'Right,' he said in his best 'I'm the boss' voice. He clapped his hands down on Ianto's shoulders and pulled them back. 'Shoulders back...' His hands slid down the back of Ianto's jacket and came to rest on his hips, Ianto not quite able to suppress a shudder as his numb libido began to awaken. 'Hips straight - you're twisting too much at the waist...'
Ianto's hips moved and heard a muted groan from Jack as the motion made Ianto's arse brush against Jack's groin. Jack took one step back and cleared his throat. 'Look down your arm to sight your target,' he said, putting his hand under Ianto's elbow to lift his arm a little higher. 'Breathe in then, when you exhale, squeeze the trigger - gently.'
'Wouldn't want anything going off prematurely,' Ianto murmured drolly then he breathed out. The crack of a gunshot broke the relative quiet of the shooting range and blocked out Jack's laughter.
'Hm,' hummed Ianto thoughtfully, staring at the hole that had appeared in the forehead of his target. 'Inappropriate phallic analogies do have their place.'
'Bet you never thought all that time spent wanking in your teens was really practice for future weapon's training,' Jack chuckled.
Ianto's cheeks burned and there was an entirely inappropriate twitch in his trousers. Jack's eyes lingered over Ianto's pink-tinged cheeks and he sobered. 'Sorry. That was...'
'Typical,' Ianto interrupted, returning the gun to the table before pulling off his ear protection. 'That was quintessential Captain Jack Harkness innuendo. Believe it or not, I've missed it.'
Jack dragged his ear wear off also and tossed it onto the table. 'You've missed me sexually harassing you?' he asked, and Ianto shook his head.
'I've missed you being yourself,' he corrected, his flush deepening. 'I've missed your thoughtless, brash, invasive behaviour. You've been so... restrained since I came back and it's been making me uneasy.'
Jack sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. 'I... I didn't mean to...'
'I know,' Ianto said quietly. 'I know what you've been trying to do and I'm grateful. And you did get better after those first few excruciating days of asking me every five minutes if I needed anything.'
Jack grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Why didn't you just tell me how much me toning it down was bothering you?'
Ianto smiled - closed-mouth, but genuinely affectionate - and picked up a rifle. 'Sir, it takes gun fire to make a Welshman discuss his feelings.'
Jack's laughter rang out like a bell, echoing around the cavernous room, and Ianto's smile widened at the sound.
Things are slowly getting back to how it was before.
'Right,' Jack said loudly, a grin still splitting his face as he clapped his hands together. He scooped up a handful of cartridges and handed them to Ianto. 'Let's see how you handle a big one then.'
Ianto gave a derisive snort then loaded the rifle, skin singing as Jack moved to stand unnecessarily close.
Yep. Back to as close to normal as Torchwood gets.
*
Bracing himself with one hand flat on the table's surface, Ianto's squeezing and palming of his cock morphed into sharp, fast jerks. His pants were confining but it was bloody freezing down here and he had no intention of freezing his nuts off to win this game. They wouldn't grow back like Jack's would.
His fingernails dug into the wood as his climax grew closer, and his panting breaths were loud and ragged in the otherwise silent space, puffs of white cloud forming then quickly dissipating with every exhale. Ianto clenched his buttocks, sighing in pleasure when the used and stretched muscles twinged then groaning when the reminder of last night's slow and thorough - well, he hesitated to call it lovemaking because he wasn't a bodice-ripper reading thirteen-year-old girl and knew the score when it came to him and Jack, but fucking just wasn't quite right either - nudged him closer to the end.
He closed his eyes, frustrated that he couldn't get the kind of friction he really wanted. He focused his mind on the night before, letting the memory of Jack's tongue bathing every inch of his skin, Jack's obscenely clever fingers opening Ianto up while his equally as clever lips kissed him breathless, Jack's thick cock stretching him, filling him while Jack muttered encouragement and half-formed endearments into Ianto's neck.
It wasn't fucking.
Ianto cried out, the sound echoing around the chamber, as the image of Jack's face as he came deep inside Ianto took him over the edge. Watching those blue eyes lose all the darkness and sorrow that swirled in their depths was heady, and knowing that it was him - Ianto Jones - who had done that made his head spin. His cock throbbed as each pulse of pleasure weakened his knees, and he bit his lip to stop himself shouting Jack's name.
With a shaky exhale, Ianto fell heavily against the table, his hip sure to bruise later, and clicked the button on the top of the stopwatch. Slowly, his breathing began to even out, and his sweat-slicked skin began to cool. He removed his hand from the folds of his trousers and underwear, grimacing at the mess. He wiped his hand carelessly on his boxers, figuring he couldn't damage them any further, then zipped up. His underwear clung uncomfortably to his sensitive cock and Ianto winced, both at the sensation and the realisation that he still had work to do in his soiled pants.
I should have cleaned the guns first.
He reached for Gwen's training gun, idly glancing at the stopwatch as he did. Six minutes, forty-one seconds. Ianto frowned, not quite sure of Jack's last time, but knowing it was close. He slipped the watch back into his pocket then gathered up the guns and ammo for cleaning and reloading.
*
J,
Re: Weapon's training
Shooting range. 1001. Six minutes, forty-one seconds. Tag.
I.
P.S. I was thinking about what you taught me during that first lesson. I'd like to explore your theory and technique in greater detail. Later this evening, perhaps? If you have time, Sir.
*
'Ianto?'
'Gwen.'
'I found this on the ground... It's from you, isn't it?'
'Er, thanks. Yes. I was wondering where that had gone.'
'What does it mean? It's a bit cryptic.'
'The Captain is attempting to help me improve my woeful aim. I was hoping for another lesson tonight.'
'What's 1001? And what took six minutes and forty-one seconds?'
'Six minutes, forty-one? Really?'
Ianto and Gwen's head snapped around to stare at Jack who was standing - grinning - on the stairs. He galloped down to their level, smirked at a flushed Ianto before swiping the note out of Gwen's hand. 'Mysterious messages between a leader and his support staff should not be questioned, PC Cooper,' he said with a fond smile at Gwen. 'Top secret codes and passwords and such.'
Gwen raised her hands defensively and beat a hasty retreat. Jack looked down at the note and tutted playfully. 'Ianto, you really need to be a little more careful with your communications.'
Ianto stifled a smile as Jack's mischievous gaze roamed over his body, lingering on the front of his pants. Jack's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. His eyes widened. He glanced questioningly back up at Ianto's face and, when Ianto gave an almost imperceivable nod, his eyes went dark with lust.
Jack cleared his throat softly. 'Weapon's training tonight sounds fine,' he said evenly, tongue darting out to lick at his lips. 'I'll look forward to it.'
He folded the note carefully and slipped it into his pocket before he nodded at Ianto and bounded back up the stairs. Ianto watched his backside as he went, an appreciative smile playing about his lips.
'So will I, Jack.'
Next
Chapter: Ianto on the Shooting Range
Author: remuslives23
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Ianto. Jack/Ianto
Fandom: Torchwood
Word Count: 1985
Summary: Ianto recalls his weapon's training.
Notes: Written for day ten of mmom using lover100 prompt 100: Writer's Choice - gun. For idamus who made me think that it would be fun to have one of the team find a note.
Previously: Ianto in the Archives | Jack in the Main Hub | Ianto in Jack's Office | Jack in the Tourist Office
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russel T Davies, BBC, and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.
Ianto didn't bother turning the overhead lights of the shooting range on; instead, relying on the softer glow of the uplights that were scattered around the edge of the long, cavernous space. There were still several handguns and the accompanying cartridges strewn across the table from Gwen and Tosh's earlier training with Jack - an experience that one had to live to believe. Ianto ran a finger along the distressed wooden surface of the table, recalling his very first weapon's training session with Jack just a few months after his return from suspension. He smiled at the memory as one hand slipped inside his hurriedly unfastened fly, and the other closed around his stopwatch.
*
'We should have done this a long time ago,' Jack said with a frown as he watched Ianto slide the protective glasses and ear wear on. 'But with Suzie we had enough trained field staff then when she... died, Gwen's training took precedence so we could get back to full strength and...'
'I fell through the cracks,' Ianto finished, picking up a pistol. Jack's voice was tinny, coming through the built-in communicators in the ear wear, but the remorse underscoring his words was not lost. 'Not much need for the office boy to receive weapon's training, sir. I understand the delay; I'm not sure I understand the sudden desire to alter the status quo, though.'
He reached for an ammunition magazine, but Jack got there first, scooping it up and holding it out to Ianto. Ianto went to take it from his hand, but Jack held fast. 'Because it's about time you lived up to your potential, Ianto Jones,' he said quietly, looking Ianto in the eye for a long moment before releasing the magazine.
Ianto, a little flustered but trying not to show it, efficiently loaded the gun before turning to face the targets. He felt Jack's eyes on him as he raised his arm and, taking aim, pulled the trigger. The bullet hit what would have been his victim's right arm and Ianto frowned. He was normally a better shot than that.
'Turn more to your side,' Jack suggested and Ianto obeyed, raising the gun again. 'Adjust your hold.'
Ianto's forehead creased as he awkwardly shifted his fingers on the grip in an attempt to follow the instruction. 'Like that?'
Jack shook his head and, after a second of hesitation, he stepped closer, putting his hand over Ianto's. 'Relax your hand,' he said, tapping Ianto's white-knuckled fingers lightly with his own. Ianto's tight hold loosened. 'Right, now you want a strong, stable grip but don't squeeze. Imagine it's your...'
He bit his lip as he abruptly cut himself off. Ianto twisted around, staring curiously at Jack who sighed loudly and said apologetically, 'Pretend it's your dick.'
Ianto refused to visibly react, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst from him.
Only Jack bloody Harkness!
He raised an eyebrow in query. Jack grinned, obviously far more confident and surefooted than he'd been a moment ago, and Ianto wondered if he'd allowed some of his amusement to show after all.
'You want to hold it firmly, you want to feel every bump and curve...' Jack swallowed hard enough for Ianto to hear the gulp as he adjusted Ianto's finger placement then covered the digits with his own, demonstrating the pressure required. 'But you don't want to choke it.'
Ianto made a strangled sound in his throat and Jack hastily let go of his hand. 'Right,' he said in his best 'I'm the boss' voice. He clapped his hands down on Ianto's shoulders and pulled them back. 'Shoulders back...' His hands slid down the back of Ianto's jacket and came to rest on his hips, Ianto not quite able to suppress a shudder as his numb libido began to awaken. 'Hips straight - you're twisting too much at the waist...'
Ianto's hips moved and heard a muted groan from Jack as the motion made Ianto's arse brush against Jack's groin. Jack took one step back and cleared his throat. 'Look down your arm to sight your target,' he said, putting his hand under Ianto's elbow to lift his arm a little higher. 'Breathe in then, when you exhale, squeeze the trigger - gently.'
'Wouldn't want anything going off prematurely,' Ianto murmured drolly then he breathed out. The crack of a gunshot broke the relative quiet of the shooting range and blocked out Jack's laughter.
'Hm,' hummed Ianto thoughtfully, staring at the hole that had appeared in the forehead of his target. 'Inappropriate phallic analogies do have their place.'
'Bet you never thought all that time spent wanking in your teens was really practice for future weapon's training,' Jack chuckled.
Ianto's cheeks burned and there was an entirely inappropriate twitch in his trousers. Jack's eyes lingered over Ianto's pink-tinged cheeks and he sobered. 'Sorry. That was...'
'Typical,' Ianto interrupted, returning the gun to the table before pulling off his ear protection. 'That was quintessential Captain Jack Harkness innuendo. Believe it or not, I've missed it.'
Jack dragged his ear wear off also and tossed it onto the table. 'You've missed me sexually harassing you?' he asked, and Ianto shook his head.
'I've missed you being yourself,' he corrected, his flush deepening. 'I've missed your thoughtless, brash, invasive behaviour. You've been so... restrained since I came back and it's been making me uneasy.'
Jack sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. 'I... I didn't mean to...'
'I know,' Ianto said quietly. 'I know what you've been trying to do and I'm grateful. And you did get better after those first few excruciating days of asking me every five minutes if I needed anything.'
Jack grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Why didn't you just tell me how much me toning it down was bothering you?'
Ianto smiled - closed-mouth, but genuinely affectionate - and picked up a rifle. 'Sir, it takes gun fire to make a Welshman discuss his feelings.'
Jack's laughter rang out like a bell, echoing around the cavernous room, and Ianto's smile widened at the sound.
Things are slowly getting back to how it was before.
'Right,' Jack said loudly, a grin still splitting his face as he clapped his hands together. He scooped up a handful of cartridges and handed them to Ianto. 'Let's see how you handle a big one then.'
Ianto gave a derisive snort then loaded the rifle, skin singing as Jack moved to stand unnecessarily close.
Yep. Back to as close to normal as Torchwood gets.
*
Bracing himself with one hand flat on the table's surface, Ianto's squeezing and palming of his cock morphed into sharp, fast jerks. His pants were confining but it was bloody freezing down here and he had no intention of freezing his nuts off to win this game. They wouldn't grow back like Jack's would.
His fingernails dug into the wood as his climax grew closer, and his panting breaths were loud and ragged in the otherwise silent space, puffs of white cloud forming then quickly dissipating with every exhale. Ianto clenched his buttocks, sighing in pleasure when the used and stretched muscles twinged then groaning when the reminder of last night's slow and thorough - well, he hesitated to call it lovemaking because he wasn't a bodice-ripper reading thirteen-year-old girl and knew the score when it came to him and Jack, but fucking just wasn't quite right either - nudged him closer to the end.
He closed his eyes, frustrated that he couldn't get the kind of friction he really wanted. He focused his mind on the night before, letting the memory of Jack's tongue bathing every inch of his skin, Jack's obscenely clever fingers opening Ianto up while his equally as clever lips kissed him breathless, Jack's thick cock stretching him, filling him while Jack muttered encouragement and half-formed endearments into Ianto's neck.
It wasn't fucking.
Ianto cried out, the sound echoing around the chamber, as the image of Jack's face as he came deep inside Ianto took him over the edge. Watching those blue eyes lose all the darkness and sorrow that swirled in their depths was heady, and knowing that it was him - Ianto Jones - who had done that made his head spin. His cock throbbed as each pulse of pleasure weakened his knees, and he bit his lip to stop himself shouting Jack's name.
With a shaky exhale, Ianto fell heavily against the table, his hip sure to bruise later, and clicked the button on the top of the stopwatch. Slowly, his breathing began to even out, and his sweat-slicked skin began to cool. He removed his hand from the folds of his trousers and underwear, grimacing at the mess. He wiped his hand carelessly on his boxers, figuring he couldn't damage them any further, then zipped up. His underwear clung uncomfortably to his sensitive cock and Ianto winced, both at the sensation and the realisation that he still had work to do in his soiled pants.
I should have cleaned the guns first.
He reached for Gwen's training gun, idly glancing at the stopwatch as he did. Six minutes, forty-one seconds. Ianto frowned, not quite sure of Jack's last time, but knowing it was close. He slipped the watch back into his pocket then gathered up the guns and ammo for cleaning and reloading.
*
J,
Re: Weapon's training
Shooting range. 1001. Six minutes, forty-one seconds. Tag.
I.
P.S. I was thinking about what you taught me during that first lesson. I'd like to explore your theory and technique in greater detail. Later this evening, perhaps? If you have time, Sir.
*
'Ianto?'
'Gwen.'
'I found this on the ground... It's from you, isn't it?'
'Er, thanks. Yes. I was wondering where that had gone.'
'What does it mean? It's a bit cryptic.'
'The Captain is attempting to help me improve my woeful aim. I was hoping for another lesson tonight.'
'What's 1001? And what took six minutes and forty-one seconds?'
'Six minutes, forty-one? Really?'
Ianto and Gwen's head snapped around to stare at Jack who was standing - grinning - on the stairs. He galloped down to their level, smirked at a flushed Ianto before swiping the note out of Gwen's hand. 'Mysterious messages between a leader and his support staff should not be questioned, PC Cooper,' he said with a fond smile at Gwen. 'Top secret codes and passwords and such.'
Gwen raised her hands defensively and beat a hasty retreat. Jack looked down at the note and tutted playfully. 'Ianto, you really need to be a little more careful with your communications.'
Ianto stifled a smile as Jack's mischievous gaze roamed over his body, lingering on the front of his pants. Jack's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. His eyes widened. He glanced questioningly back up at Ianto's face and, when Ianto gave an almost imperceivable nod, his eyes went dark with lust.
Jack cleared his throat softly. 'Weapon's training tonight sounds fine,' he said evenly, tongue darting out to lick at his lips. 'I'll look forward to it.'
He folded the note carefully and slipped it into his pocket before he nodded at Ianto and bounded back up the stairs. Ianto watched his backside as he went, an appreciative smile playing about his lips.
'So will I, Jack.'
Next