Fic: keYstr/oke (Follow Me) [Jack/Gwen/Ianto, NC-17]
Title: keYstr/oke (Follow Me)
Author: amand_r
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto/Gwen/Jack (possibly Gwen/Jack/Ianto/Twitter)
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 6,700
Betas: There's a million of them! Thanks to neifile7 and cruentum for some plottsoring, and to lionessvalenti for greenlighting the sexorring. Lastly, thanks to copperbadge who betaed some grammar and talked me down from the ledge.
Author's Notes: To Foxy, 51centuryfox with love, and she knows why. She's the beta goddess, the porn goddess, the lay-day.
Summary: Gwen and Ianto had a very satisfying sex life. Via text messages.
Gwen and Ianto had a very satisfying sex life.
Via text messages.
Gwen wasn't sure when it started, probably something to do with an inappropriate typo in a text that she sent him, which he then mocked via another text, and then she couldn't very leave that alone, could she? It had probably looked like this:
at the scene theres been a bit of a cocks up.
And he had probably been at the Hub, smirking at his phone. His thumbs had probably worked overtime as he tried to message as fast as he could while multitasking and listening to Jack give him about fifty orders.:
cocks up? r u sure u r in the right place? LEFT OF THE SEX CLUB, GWEN.
It was probably something like that. It wasn't as if they didn't have their share of innuendo in person, but it was always good natured ribbing and teasing, something they had fallen back on to balm the loss of Tosh and Owen as they rattled around the empty Hub like three beans in a pot.
oh bollocks to you mr texting master
i try. ;P
stop with the smilies.
you love them. j says 2 pick up lubricant. i would sugst a rsonding hell no
since when am i ur sex fairy?
thats a happy thought. what does a sex fairy wear? ur red blouse?
Gwen paused before replying.
and nothing else.
For at least five minutes there was nothing. Then she was caught up in the interviewing of witness, administering retcon, tracking the Hoix through a series of alleyways before she could sedate it and lug it back to the SUV, cursing the others all the way. She had lost the coin toss, sure, but did gender equality really mean that she had to drag this two hundred pound beastie fifty yards? She was sweaty and panting and worn out by the time she sat in the driver's seat and checked her phone for messages
lovely. i'm hard from the mental image alone
Gwen flipped the phone shut and thought about it for about thirty seconds. Then she opened it and checked missed messages, then the sender again. Then she hit 'delete conversation'. Then she keyed in Ianto's speed dial.
i think u meant jack.
him too.
Gwen started the SUV and tossed the phone into her purse. She couldn't stop smiling. It felt like it had been ages. Why couldn't she stop smiling?
***
shesgotagun: @rugby4ever Tell me again about the feathers.
Ianto smiled and glanced up from his monitor at Gwen. She wasn't even looking at him, but she was, out of her corner of her eye. He typed quickly as he spoke in the phone with the Brigadier from UNIT.
"We can have those forms to you next week. I'm afraid that our last batch were eaten by a pack of Weevils." He hit send on the message. "No truthfully."
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun They come attached to the panties.
At least Twitter had made them more grammatical. And the Tweetdeck was up in the background. Gwen was the only one following him (well, that and 500 spambots) and he was the only one following her, and if their messages were locked, then, well, it made the day less dull in some ways.
He shuffled the phone to the other hand and made eye contact with Jack, standing up a level, hands on the railing and smiling. Right bastard, Gwen thought, as he watched them work while the rolled about the Hub, hands in pockets. "No, sir, that's not a ruse. If you like, I could messenger the chewed up remains of the forms to your offices."
shesgotagun: @rugby4ever Is that hygenic?
Ianto tilted his head again. "I'm so glad that you are agreeable to that, Brigadier." He hung up the phone and tossed it on his growing stack of paperwork.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun They're play feathers, Gwen. And you wouldn't be thinking about that when I put them on you.
shesgotagun: @rugby4ever I think you should wear the feathers.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun On my lovely bustier?
shesgotagun: @rugby4ever I think, quite frankly, that the thought of you in a bustier is a coffee breaker.
The 'coffee breaker', as it were, consisted of a mutual agreement to leave their desks and go elsewhere for a few minutes. Gwen didn't ask what Ianto did when he took a coffee breaker, but sometimes he went up to Jack's office. Sometimes he went to the loo. Sometimes he actually made coffee.
Gwen spent hers in the toilet this time, talking Rhys through a particularly nasty bout of phone sex.
It wasn't that she wanted to have sex with Ianto. In fact, they had never mentioned their textual relationship aloud. One day she'd just got a Twitter invite, and, not having an account already, created one to Follow Ianto exclusively. From there it had been nothing but down.
It was the kind of thing that Owen would have laughed at, but Tosh would have loved. She brought Tosh a flash drive on her birthday and hung it from her monitor by the lanyard. On her way back from the loo she couldn't resist giving it a little bat with her hand.
***
Gwen stared at the message in her email: hubscoutmaster (James Harper) is now following you on Twitter! Because your updates are protected, you must follow hubscoutmaster in order for them to be able to see your tweets!
Across the room, Ianto sipped his coffee and logged into his email, standing at the workstation. She tried not to watch, but it was almost impossible not to, when his eyes, faintly bored from sifting through work emails and updates from all the local press sources to see-
His eyes widened and he glanced at her. He shrugged, and they both glanced up at the light in Jack's office. Gwen clicked on the profile link. hubscoutmaster had three tweets, all public, all starting about five hours ago:
hubscoutmaster: I think we need a drink. Several, actually.
about 3 hours ago from Spaz
hubscoutmaster: You can't ever really hide. Playtime is over.
about 4 hours ago from web
hubscoutmaster: Is this thing on?
about 5 hours ago from web
She turned her sound off, opened her program and typed furiously; that call to Andy would have to wait.
shesgotagun: d rugby4ever ???!!!?!!!?
rugby4ever: d shesgotagun O_O
Ianto snorted and sipped his coffee. Then he raised his brows and clicked something with his mouse. Gwen hovered over the gray button before clicking.
You've sent a request to follow this person. If your request is approved, you'll be able to view their tweets.
Oh sweet Jesus. What had she just done?
***
They stayed off Twitter the whole day. Gwen kept trying to type things, but just knowing that Jack would see them stymied her. Finally:
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever @shesgotagun You two don't know how to party.
She heard Ianto's keyboard working overtime for three seconds.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster I think you gave Gwen cold feet.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Are Gwen's feet cold? Does that need to be remedied?
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Nothing about Gwen is cold, you might have noticed.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Oh I have. For instance, those coffee-warmed fingers of hers. Pornographic.
She let the conversation roll by as she tried to work. She had about fifteen police reports to do, and then at least three or four UNIT reports, and then a bunch of archival forms for Archie up at Torchwood Two. It was difficult, though, when Ianto seemed to have no trouble continuing his chatting on the phones to various officials, paperwork filing (she had three attachments from him re: documents in the last fifteen minutes alone), and apparently discussing her finer points in Twitter with Jack, who certainly had his own share of work in his office. Not that it ever got done.
That was uncharitable. Jack had taken on Tosh's job with gusto, actually, and though there was a great deal he wasn't good at (the patience part especially), he was doing passing fair until they hired someone new.
The medic part, however, was an issue. Ianto tried to do what he could, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't a biologist, let alone a xenobiologist. They needed someone and fast, before the morgue started to overflow.
hubscoutmaster: @shesgotagun Hey Gwen, when Ianto says that he's a perfectionist, he's not joking.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Gwen is well aware of my personality quirks, sir.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever I just think we should all give homage where homage is due. You have very sexy ways. Orgasmic ways.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Have you tied her up yet? It's the best.
Gwen rolled her eyes and shifted in her seat.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster Yes, he's very thorough. I see that you are all talk, though, and very little action.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster Sir.
hubscoutmaster: @shesgotagun Well, this is Twitter. It's a word interface program.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster You're ruining the mystique.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster Go on then. Dazzle me.
For a long time there was nothing, and Gwen wondered if they were a) going to get anything done that day and b) actually about to have cybersex in less than 140 characters. Jack could probably do it in 80.
Ianto closed yet another file and added it to his pile, his eyes scanning the room in the most blasé of ways before he made a big show of cracking his knuckles and settling in front of the keyboard.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster I think, sir, that you would start by kissing that fuckable mouth.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Then you might turn your attention to her overly-lovely breasts.
Gwen smiled and closed her file. It was pointless to bother trying to work.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Then, I'd remove that blouse with my teeth, and bite her nipples through the lace. I bet her bra has peekaboo panels.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever I'm intrigued. You've thought about this. Do go on. Do I remove the bra? What about her neck?
Ianto's eyes flitted to her and she felt her face flush as he examined her studiously, like some sort of butcher trying to ascertain the best plan of approach.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Leave the bra on for now. Lick the neck. She likes love bites, the ones that leave a mark, but you can't do that, obviously.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster I like biting.
She typed it before she could stop herself. There was a barked laugh from up in Jack's office and the typing of keys.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever @shesgotagun I think I'll save the biting for your perfect arse. It is immensely gorgeous. But to get there, I'd have to remov
There was a noise of indignation from upstairs; Gwen snickered and Ianto snorted.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster 140 characters or less.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever @shesgotagun e your jeans.
Gwen was about to type a response when the Rift alarm went off, for the first time in three days. She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.
***
Andy called around six, and Gwen reclined in her chair. The Hub had been quiet for the rest of the day, a blessed thing, and she had genuinely been startled when her phone had begun to vibrate under a mound of papers. She fished about for it and answered just before it would have gone to voicemail.
"Hey," Andy said. "I was wondering if you wanted to meet for a drink. Talk shop."
Gwen sighed and looked at her inbox. It hadn't moved since she started in the morning. "Can't. I have too much work." Gwen glanced at the pile of folders that seemed to have reproduced like rabbits in the short time they had been out on a mission.
"I just wanted to talk to you about those openings you mentioned," Andy said, sounding aggravated. "You know, if you're still, hold on--" She heard him press the phone to his chest and the muffled rumble of him cursing at someone about parking.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun Stop chewing your lip. It's too sexy.
Gwen frowned and made a face. She shifted the phone under her chin as she typed.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Stop it. Phone.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun Does he know that I've seen you naked and panting?
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Bollocks.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun No. Quite right. Wishful thinking.
Gwen glanced at Ianto, but he was working. His face buried in a file, coffee mug in hand. He glanced up, probably because he felt her staring, and gave her the "What?" face. She shook her head.
Andy was back on the phone. "Well, anyway, I wanted to let you know, incase you were filling the vacancies. I know it hasn't been long since your mates died, but you mentioned that you were short staffed…" Gwen blinked through her blurry vision and resolutely didn't look over at Owen's desk.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever You're just saying that.
"Oh yeah, well, I would love to," (no she wouldn't), "but tonight isn't going to work. I'm so backlogged, I thought I'd use a free night to catch up while Rhys is at the match…"
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun Never. ;P
There were a few more mumbled confirmations, shared 'I'll call you, yeah?'s and Gwen hung up, feeling tired and vaguely hungry.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Curry?
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun I'm on it.
Funny, how they didn't have to talk anymore, even though he was not a hundred feet from her.
Jack was conspicuously silent on Twitter. Gwen heard the chime of his notification from his office, so obviously he had to have known what they were saying, but he hadn't added anything.
Had he simply made his point? She wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, but part of her felt chastised. The other part of her was angry at Jack for ruining one of the only fun things about her days at work. The Hub was empty and lonely, and they didn't play basketball anymore (Well that one really bad game of HORSE after Jack got back from the TARDIS, but that had been sad, and she'd cried.). So yeah, a little silly pervy fun over a computer with someone else who was as equally off limits as she was didn't hurt.
Plus, Ianto was funny. And rather filthy.
Jack materialised at her desk at six-thirty. "I wasn't joking about that drink."
***
Gwen sat on the sofa and swirled her drink in her glass. She sat next to Jack, Ianto on his other side, both a little tipsy themselves. Dear god, she hoped that the Rift alarm wouldn't go off, because she imagined that the ensuing activity would look like the Benny Hill show in slow motion.
Now the song was stuck in her head. She smacked her forehead.
Jack grabbed her hand. "Stop hurting yourself," he said jokingly, but it wasn't funny.
They'd started with a take-away curry and a box of stuffed grape leaves, and then moved into the single malt in good time. Gwen was unsure of what number glass she was on, but it had to be in the extremely low digits. Ianto didn't seem to be bothered at all by the alcohol, and she envied him. If Jack was even remotely drunk, he didn't show it. She just liked to think they were both as pissed as she was.
The plan had been to go through all the files from UNIT and a few other places to find a replacement for Owen. That had been the plan. Then the plan had evolved to actual drinks, and then to a weeding process that, once they had pulled out all the ones they didn't like because of qualifications, they were now picking through based on aesthetic purposes.
"I think," she said aloud, more loudly than she had planned, "we should really go with the doctor from UNIT. The one with the large mustache."
Jack rolled his head back on the sofa cushions. "In America, they call that a pornstache." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I don't know if I could work with a guy who has a pornstache."
Ianto leaned forward and poured himself another finger of scotch. "We could tell him he has to shave for safety reasons. It wouldn’t be too much of a lie that way."
Jack laughed, a short clipped thing that reminded her of the one he'd made earlier in the day when--
"I miss Tosh," she said suddenly, not even sure where it had come from. "I keep thinking that if I pretend that everything is normal, then she'll just walk through the door." She glanced over at Jack then. "Do you ever feel that way?"
Jack looked into the bottom of his glass instead of her. "You have no idea," he told the thick glass bottom darkly.
Ianto sighed and sat back so that she couldn't see his face through Jack's body in the middle. Just as well. She noticed that ever since she'd had that second? third? drink she'd been extremely interested in Ianto's hands and how they curved about the glass. Residual Twitter porn looping through her head, she figured. She'd sat on Jack's other side after dinner simply to help forget about it.
"I keep placing the same order at Tesco's for pick up," he confessed, his voice small and far away. "Every time I go to pick it up, I'm always surprised to see the Twiglets in there. Owen was the only one who ate them."
Jack smiled. "I'll eat his Twiglets."
"You don't need his Twiglets," Ianto said off-hand.
"Hey," Jack started, and then just stopped. "Nah, I don't need his Twiglets."
They stared at their feet on the coffee table, at the water tower, at the glasses in their hands. Gwen wanted to talk about Owen and Tosh. She wanted to talk about Gray, actually, to ask Jack if he regretted what he did, if he thought they should be trying to save him down there in the vaults, but she didn't. She wasn't ready for that first bit, and if they couldn't face the first bit, then the last bit was off the table.
She finished her drink. "Well, you two, I think we've done all we can for the day. I need a taxi." She rolled her head towards Jack, and he blinked at her, eyes trying to see her, but they were too close. She could feel her retinas adjusting to the depth perception.
"Before you go," Jack said, raising his brows and grinning before turning his head to study the water tower in front of them. "I think it's within my rights to ask how long the two of you have been having secret cyber sex on the web. You know, on the clock." One hand slapped down on her knee, flat and broad, before curving to cup her leg. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, if that's what you're into." His hand tripped up her thigh. "It's a waste, though, really."
Ianto snorted into his glass. "Weren't you the one describing neural e-sex to me in full detail the other night?"
Jack smiled, and he didn't look at Gwen, even as his hand continued a sliding path up her thigh to curve in between her legs. "Oh yeah, I was, wasn't I?"
She wanted to tell him to stop, but she was pretty damn curious, actually. Jack was nonchalant and almost distracted. Ianto hadn't even noticed. She wondered if this was all a charming ploy.
"Funny thing about cyber sex," he said to Ianto, not looking at Gwen, "You don’t have to feel it. You just say it. Hands busy on the keyboard, not on an actual body." To punctuate his point his fingers hooked in between her legs and tightened against the seam of her denims. Gwen sucked in her breath, eyes riveted to the waterfall in front of them, pouring down into the pool below.
Ianto set down his glass deliberately, then, sitting forward on the sofa and pulling Jack towards him by the collar. "Mmm, nothing wrong with keyboards," he said, his lips brushing Jack's. Gwen knew that her eyes were impossibly wide, she could feel them drying out. "All those things to press on." To make his point, he undid the top three buttons of Jack's shirt.
Jack's hand moved in a grinding circle against her, and she wanted to close her eyes. She really wanted to watch them, eye-sexing each other and undressing and pretending like Jack wasn't finger fucking her through her jeans, but she was almost afraid that if she did, they'd remember that she was there. She wasn't sure if she wanted them to focus on her, not entirely. Not at the same time.
Ianto pressed his mouth to Jack's finally, opening against it, his breath heavy against Jack's cheek. Jack made a small noise in this throat, maybe surprise, maybe just satisfaction, and his fingers stumbled as they grasped for her, scraping backwards up her waist to search for the button of her denims. Gwen watched them as if they were some sort of alien creature that she was afraid to touch lest it attack her. When Jack leaned into Ianto, driving their mouths together, Gwen closed her eyes and let her head rest against the cushion behind her.
They must have been busy, really, with the kissing and Gwen heard the slide of Ianto's loosened tie, satin of waistcoats falling back, the clanking of a belt buckle or two. The hand on Gwen had stopped moving, fingers digging into her waist band and rather clutching, as if Jack wanted to hold her in place. She sucked in a breath and thought about the slightly tilting room, the sound of the water hitting the basin from the tower, the heat coming from Jack's hand as his knuckles pressed into her navel.
There was nothing but a small grunt suddenly and then, the cessation of making out. Gwen wanted to crack an eye open, but she felt tingly, hairs on the back of her neck standing up.
"Gwen likes biting," Ianto whispered, and she could tell by the very sound of it that they were both looking right at her. Oh hell. "Gwen," he continued and the hand left her waistband. She heard the final slide of waistcoats coming off free arms, followed by shirts. Her heart thudded in her chest and her eyes felt vaguely wired, as if her pupils were dilated as far as they could go. She was grateful for the Hub's dim lighting.
"Gwen," Ianto said in a low voice, "Likes to take charge."
Her eyes opened then, just in time to see Jack complete a line up the side of Ianto's neck with his tongue, just the very tip of it curving up to end right behind his ear. Ianto's mouth quirked up at one end and he made eye contact with her as Jack nuzzled his ear and the hollow behind it.
"Oh, now, really?" Jack said, turning towards her, when Ianto pinned his hands behind his back and forced his chest around. "It's a united front, is it?"
Gwen was pretty sure that they were anything but united. Or maybe they were. "Twitter taught us many things," Ianto said, as if he was delivering an educational lecture. "For instance, Gwen is aware that you love her breasts, and are desperate to actually see them, sans anything in the way."
Gwen smiled at that. Jack snorted and tried to look amused, but somewhere in his eyes she saw just a hint of something worried. "Oh Twitter is to blame for this then?" he breathed when she sat up, reached out one hand and ran it along his jaw. Jack had a lovely face, really, and she wanted to cradle it in her hand, push her fingers into that welcoming mouth. Jack's lips curved in his wide smile, a glint of teeth behind them, coy eyes, just for Gwen. A little eyelash bat. She couldn't resist that look then, and it was so very easy to pull that chin in, kiss those lips, laughing, laughing.
So easy to trace Ianto's earlier marks up Jack's neck with her tongue, bury her nose in his hair, smell the odour of him that pooled in the hollow of his ear after a whole day.
"What do you have against Twitter?" she whispered before pulling away and tugging her blouse off with one hand. Behind him, Ianto smirked and mouthed the words, 'Sex fairy top.' A glance at it reminded Gwen that it was indeed red.
"I can get behind Twitter," Jack whispered, trying to lean forward towards her breasts but failing when Ianto tugged on his wrists. "Okay Ianto, you can let go now."
Ianto let go, raising his hands in the air in a surrendering gesture, and Jack toppled over into Gwen, face first. His hands found her shoulders and the bra straps there, but his mouth just turned to the left a bit to bite the mound of her breast, his eyes open and rolled upwards, that lopsided smile almost perfectly lascivious. Her bra straps travelled down her shoulders and trapped her there a little, as if his weight wasn't enough. Jack bit down on the material cupping her breast and pulled it with his teeth, playful puppy.
Ianto smiled and stood, moving the coffee table a few feet away with one long leg, preparing, preparing for something that she just realised was going to happen. Something that required the movement of furniture.
Jack raised himself enough that he could shift up, his bare chest hot and covering hers. She fell further back into the sofa then, enjoying the spin a bit, trying to watch Ianto undo his trousers with those fingers and also watch Jack's head slide into her line of vision, biting at her chin, her jaw, sniffing up her cheek until he could kiss her again, and oh Jesus that was nice, Jack and scotch and his tongue barraging her mouth, licking and biting and clacking teeth.
Jack kissed like he did most things, she discovered: hard, intense, like he was paying attention to only it, though that was impossible. He was trying to tell her something when he nodded his head with hers, when he moaned a little into her mouth. His hands twisted her straps and tugged.
There was a faint laugh when she broke away, and Jack lowered his head to rest on her shoulder. "Bra straps," he murmured. Gwen shifted, and the straps pulled, slithered around her elbows and through her hands and she was free suddenly, as Jack sat up to look at her. Behind him, Ianto crawled along in his shorts, settling on the sofa at the other end, one long leg tucked up so that he could stroke himself through the cotton in his lap.
"Now tell me," Jack said, leaning back into Ianto and drawing her hands with him, "what could you possibly hope to accomplish in less than a hundred forty characters?" He pulled and Gwen fell on him this time, Ianto smirking at her and drawing circles on Jack's shoulders and chest with his fingers. Jack sighed and wriggled against Ianto's lap.
Gwen settled on Jack and ran her hands through his hair. "I could get you off," she drawled.
"She could," Ianto confirmed. "One hundred forty characters."
Jack laughed then, and rubbed his head against Ianto's bare chest. "Okay then, Dazzle me." Gwen pulled his belt from his loops and tossed it away. "That might have been an important prop," he murmured.
Gwen grabbed his chin and stilled his turning head. "Shut up."
Ianto tucked his hands under Jack's and pulled, so that Jack was forced upright in his lap. Gwen unbuttoned the trousers and pulled, and they slid from his waist and down his legs with a satisfying noise. Jack lifted his hips. "That was eight characters. One thirty-two to go."
Gwen felt her smile more than processed it, running her nails over Jack's hairless legs and down to peel off his socks and find the condom tucked in by his ankle. She held it up and he shrugged. "Hub scout."
"Hrm."
"One twenty-eight."
Gwen ran one nail down the y-fronts, along the heavy seams of the design opening. "Should I fuck you through them?" His cock was hard, very warm and rigid under her hand, and she pulled the opening wide enough and stretched it, until she could maneuver his cock out of it, red and jutting, standing on its own in the framework of the underwear, like threading a needle, actually.
Jack groaned and rolled his hips. "Now, that's-"
Ianto reached down and grabbed it in one hand, jostling it like a gear shaft. "Careful Jack, you only have fifty characters left." Jack's eyes fluttered closed, and Gwen leaned forward to lick the head of it, working her tongue in the slit, under the foreskin. He smelled like sweat and that male scent that men got from being trapped in their pants all day. She wondered if she had a smell like that.
She wondered if it smelled as promising as this.
Jack raised his hips off the sofa and Ianto chuckled, his hand leaving Jack's cock to cup Gwen's face as she took Jack in her mouth, one of them on the inside of her and the other on the outside, Gwen pressed her tongue against the underside of Jack's cock and shuddered. She was wearing too many clothes. It was cliched and uncomplicated and very true, though.
She spent precious little time on his cock. Jack was lovely, but it wasn't what she wanted, not at this moment, and this was a moment that would end soon enough, and she might never see it again. All around them the dim light pooled in crevices and against the tiled walls, and the only sounds were fluid: the water in the pool, the soft hum of Owen's refrigeration units, the cycling of Tosh's programs sifting through data, Jack's throaty whinges when she let go of him and sat back on her elbows to tug her own jeans down.
"Hush," Ianto murmured when Jack groaned at the sight of Gwen peeling her jeans and panties away. He levered the man up and reached around him, sliding his hands under the waistband of Jack's y-fronts and gently extricating his cock so that he could tuck the waistband of his y-fronts under it. The white cotton was taut against the lower curve of his hips, almost incandescent against his tan skin. "Gwen is going to use some of her leftover characters." And with that, he pushed Jack towards Gwen and tossed the condom wrapper in front to land on the skin where Jack's cock curved upwards toward his belly. Gwen snickered.
"I couldn't do that again if I tried," Jack said, plucking the condom from his lap and flourishing it with two fingers. "May I?"
Gwen cocked her head and wondered at the inviting nature of it all. Jack gave her his smile again, hesitant eyes and bragging mouth. She took the condom from his hand and unwrapped it, rolling it down his cock and applying a judicious amount of pressure. Ianto left them for a moment, disappearing into the recesses of the Hub dark, spectral. She wondered if he was coming back until there was a screech of a drawer and he seemed to slide out of the shadows. Gwen didn't have time to think about him when Jack settled himself along the stretch of sofa, pulling her with him, guiding her up and over until they fit together like a jigsaw.
Everything always stretched in that time for Gwen, that first few seconds when the cock slotted in and she could just rest there with it inside her, no hurry, no, just feel it in her like some foreign thing that she hadn't known she was missing. She leant forward to Jack, lips ghosting his cheek when he reach around to finally unhook the clasp of her bra and drag it between them off the sofa and onto the floor with everything else.
"What would you type in now?" he whispered, "Busy little fingers."
"Fuck me," she whispered, rocking against him so that his eyes fluttered and his mouth made a moue that was impossible to resist. Gwen kissed it again, and Jack's tongue drove into her; he reached up with one hand to steady her face, tangle his fingers in her hair.
Ianto laughed. "Oh em gee, one one one," he mumbled before barking a laugh, and then she felt his hand on her hip, and his fingers dancing down her back. She had almost forgotten him, but there he was, right as the rain, ever steady. Gwen pressed her forehead to Jack's and simply breathed, breathed as he rested inside her, his arms holding her on his lap when Ianto's pornographic fingers earned their name by slipping inside her,
She had thought it might be strange, having fingers there, the whole time trying not to move too much with Jack. Ianto seemed content to wait for her to rock back and forth; his fingers followed her when she lifted herself up, sliding forward against Jack and off his cock. His lips trailed along her waist, other hand on her hip. Under her, Jack bucked and laughed.
"Twitter is slow today. I'm not getting any updates."
Gwen sat hard on him and he grunted. "Again, shhh."
Ianto snorted behind her and Jack grinned, hands busy finding her clit, finding her breast, squeezing, typing messages across her skin. She was so busy with the tickling of it, the stiffness inside her that she hadn't noticed that Ianto had lined himself up until he pushed inside her, his mouth on the nape of her neck.
"Relax," he whispered, and groaned all the way in.
Gwen stiffened with it, back rigid, skewered and frozen until Jack helped her rise a little, and Ianto tugged on her so that she was upright.
"I've got you," Ianto whispered. "We've got you." Then he slid out a little and pushed back in so that she moved, and then Jack moved, rolling his hips, his eyes focused over her shoulder, probably at Ianto. Her hands fluttered at her sides like paper birds, like the cranes that Tosh used to make for her after lunch. If she wanted she could look over right now and see one of them, but-
It was a rolling thing, this movement, a boat on water, vaguely like rocking in a bathtub so that waves could crash together in the center. Ianto guided her hips back and forwards on Jack's cock, always sliding out as she seated herself on it. Her hands reached down and found Jack's mouth, lips sucking her in, eyes doll-like with their lashes opening and closing in time with the thrusting of his hips.
One of those things then, one of those things that never lasted as long as it should, but actually was just right. Before her thighs could start to shake with the levering and thrusting, before Ianto could complain about being cold or Jack could admit that they were crushing his chest when they fell forwards onto him once or twice, Jack arched his back and Gwen and Ianto almost fell backwards. His cock bent down when she slid, and Jack seemed to like that even more. Ianto had long since reached around to work her clit while they moved, building pressure, and part of her felt as if she had just been waiting. Waiting for someone to tell her to go, to just go now Gwen.
And so she did, one last hurrah on Jack's cock--a few violent thrusts, his face scrunching and mouth parting in quiet shock. He grabbed her hands in his and ran them up and down her spent thighs while Ianto caught up, still so very reticent, removed, amused even as he came inside her and buried his face in her hair.
It took a few tries then, to arrange themselves, slipping apart, unhooking and laughing and groaning and wiping themselves with wet napkins that Ianto seemed to have Accioed from a secret place. They smelled like apples, Gwen thought as she ran one down her thigh and sat next to Jack. He took her chin in one hand, one more time, yeah, the fingers said, and kissed her, his tongue a brand, the stubborn friction of his sweaty jaw against her cheek when he pulled away to nuzzle her ear almost like skidding to a stop in a car, burning rubber.
Jack licked a trail of sweat from her shoulder and sighed into her skin. "I think that was more than a hundred forty characters," he said, tossing the wet tissues and flotsam on the floor. Ianto would get them later; she suspected he always got them later. Who would pass up this last part of the moment, this sweaty embrace, curled against the rough fibers and Jack's warm skin, all but absorbing him through osmosis?
The sofa shifted as Ianto pulled the afghan from the back and threw it over them all, yanking Jack back to settle between them. Gwen allowed herself to be tucked into the circle of Jack's arms and stared out at the Hub, this empty place that used to seem too small, too busy, too full, and now just looked like an empty ribcage.
"Speak for yourself," Ianto drawled. "I counted."
Jack's arms snaked behind them both and Gwen turned so that her face was almost buried in the crook of his arm. Across from her Ianto closed his eyes and breathed deep. She wondered sometimes, what he thought of all this-the death, the danger, the imminent loss that was just on the edge of everything. Or she could just be over-dramatising in the afterglow.
Jack waited another beat and then squeezed Gwen's shoulder. It was reassuring. "I told you he was a perfectionist. But I suppose it was enough, right?"
There was a volley of snorting, probably the best response, anyway. Ianto opened his eyes and looked at her, his face so close, and something in her wanted to touch him, give him a pat on the head, say 'good boy' for what he'd done. Instead, she watched them flutter closed again and took up a scan about the Hub: Myfanwy in her nest, mantling and crooning; the flash drive swinging merrily on Tosh's monitor; the blurry blue glow of Ianto's screensaver; the incandescent filter of Jack's desk lamp up on another level; the whisper of the water running down the tower into the cycling pool.
"It was enough," she admitted drowsily, with more finality than she thought she could muster. "It's enough."
***
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Do I smell curry?
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster No, that would be weevil remains all over the autopsy bay.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster @rugby4ever I'm not cleaning them up this time. It’s Jack's fault.
hubscoutmaster: @shesgotagun Wait, what? I didn't feed it the pop rocks, Gwen. It just ate them before I could stop it.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Tell her.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster You're cleaning it up.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever You tell him.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever @shesgotagun You two are no fun anymore.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Is he gone?
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun I think so. I was thinking of seeing a film this weekend. One straight through.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Rhys and I are going to my in-laws'. :(
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun Smiley. :P
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Shut it. It's your fault. Remember when we used to use this for sex?
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun I know. What has become of us?
Gwen glanced up then, and Ianto blinked back at her, as if surprised to see her face. "I think we got better," she said aloud, and for once, her words didn't echo.
END
Author: amand_r
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto/Gwen/Jack (possibly Gwen/Jack/Ianto/Twitter)
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 6,700
Betas: There's a million of them! Thanks to neifile7 and cruentum for some plottsoring, and to lionessvalenti for greenlighting the sexorring. Lastly, thanks to copperbadge who betaed some grammar and talked me down from the ledge.
Author's Notes: To Foxy, 51centuryfox with love, and she knows why. She's the beta goddess, the porn goddess, the lay-day.
Summary: Gwen and Ianto had a very satisfying sex life. Via text messages.
Gwen and Ianto had a very satisfying sex life.
Via text messages.
Gwen wasn't sure when it started, probably something to do with an inappropriate typo in a text that she sent him, which he then mocked via another text, and then she couldn't very leave that alone, could she? It had probably looked like this:
at the scene theres been a bit of a cocks up.
And he had probably been at the Hub, smirking at his phone. His thumbs had probably worked overtime as he tried to message as fast as he could while multitasking and listening to Jack give him about fifty orders.:
cocks up? r u sure u r in the right place? LEFT OF THE SEX CLUB, GWEN.
It was probably something like that. It wasn't as if they didn't have their share of innuendo in person, but it was always good natured ribbing and teasing, something they had fallen back on to balm the loss of Tosh and Owen as they rattled around the empty Hub like three beans in a pot.
oh bollocks to you mr texting master
i try. ;P
stop with the smilies.
you love them. j says 2 pick up lubricant. i would sugst a rsonding hell no
since when am i ur sex fairy?
thats a happy thought. what does a sex fairy wear? ur red blouse?
Gwen paused before replying.
and nothing else.
For at least five minutes there was nothing. Then she was caught up in the interviewing of witness, administering retcon, tracking the Hoix through a series of alleyways before she could sedate it and lug it back to the SUV, cursing the others all the way. She had lost the coin toss, sure, but did gender equality really mean that she had to drag this two hundred pound beastie fifty yards? She was sweaty and panting and worn out by the time she sat in the driver's seat and checked her phone for messages
lovely. i'm hard from the mental image alone
Gwen flipped the phone shut and thought about it for about thirty seconds. Then she opened it and checked missed messages, then the sender again. Then she hit 'delete conversation'. Then she keyed in Ianto's speed dial.
i think u meant jack.
him too.
Gwen started the SUV and tossed the phone into her purse. She couldn't stop smiling. It felt like it had been ages. Why couldn't she stop smiling?
***
shesgotagun: @rugby4ever Tell me again about the feathers.
Ianto smiled and glanced up from his monitor at Gwen. She wasn't even looking at him, but she was, out of her corner of her eye. He typed quickly as he spoke in the phone with the Brigadier from UNIT.
"We can have those forms to you next week. I'm afraid that our last batch were eaten by a pack of Weevils." He hit send on the message. "No truthfully."
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun They come attached to the panties.
At least Twitter had made them more grammatical. And the Tweetdeck was up in the background. Gwen was the only one following him (well, that and 500 spambots) and he was the only one following her, and if their messages were locked, then, well, it made the day less dull in some ways.
He shuffled the phone to the other hand and made eye contact with Jack, standing up a level, hands on the railing and smiling. Right bastard, Gwen thought, as he watched them work while the rolled about the Hub, hands in pockets. "No, sir, that's not a ruse. If you like, I could messenger the chewed up remains of the forms to your offices."
shesgotagun: @rugby4ever Is that hygenic?
Ianto tilted his head again. "I'm so glad that you are agreeable to that, Brigadier." He hung up the phone and tossed it on his growing stack of paperwork.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun They're play feathers, Gwen. And you wouldn't be thinking about that when I put them on you.
shesgotagun: @rugby4ever I think you should wear the feathers.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun On my lovely bustier?
shesgotagun: @rugby4ever I think, quite frankly, that the thought of you in a bustier is a coffee breaker.
The 'coffee breaker', as it were, consisted of a mutual agreement to leave their desks and go elsewhere for a few minutes. Gwen didn't ask what Ianto did when he took a coffee breaker, but sometimes he went up to Jack's office. Sometimes he went to the loo. Sometimes he actually made coffee.
Gwen spent hers in the toilet this time, talking Rhys through a particularly nasty bout of phone sex.
It wasn't that she wanted to have sex with Ianto. In fact, they had never mentioned their textual relationship aloud. One day she'd just got a Twitter invite, and, not having an account already, created one to Follow Ianto exclusively. From there it had been nothing but down.
It was the kind of thing that Owen would have laughed at, but Tosh would have loved. She brought Tosh a flash drive on her birthday and hung it from her monitor by the lanyard. On her way back from the loo she couldn't resist giving it a little bat with her hand.
***
Gwen stared at the message in her email: hubscoutmaster (James Harper) is now following you on Twitter! Because your updates are protected, you must follow hubscoutmaster in order for them to be able to see your tweets!
Across the room, Ianto sipped his coffee and logged into his email, standing at the workstation. She tried not to watch, but it was almost impossible not to, when his eyes, faintly bored from sifting through work emails and updates from all the local press sources to see-
His eyes widened and he glanced at her. He shrugged, and they both glanced up at the light in Jack's office. Gwen clicked on the profile link. hubscoutmaster had three tweets, all public, all starting about five hours ago:
hubscoutmaster: I think we need a drink. Several, actually.
about 3 hours ago from Spaz
hubscoutmaster: You can't ever really hide. Playtime is over.
about 4 hours ago from web
hubscoutmaster: Is this thing on?
about 5 hours ago from web
She turned her sound off, opened her program and typed furiously; that call to Andy would have to wait.
shesgotagun: d rugby4ever ???!!!?!!!?
rugby4ever: d shesgotagun O_O
Ianto snorted and sipped his coffee. Then he raised his brows and clicked something with his mouse. Gwen hovered over the gray button before clicking.
You've sent a request to follow this person. If your request is approved, you'll be able to view their tweets.
Oh sweet Jesus. What had she just done?
***
They stayed off Twitter the whole day. Gwen kept trying to type things, but just knowing that Jack would see them stymied her. Finally:
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever @shesgotagun You two don't know how to party.
She heard Ianto's keyboard working overtime for three seconds.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster I think you gave Gwen cold feet.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Are Gwen's feet cold? Does that need to be remedied?
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Nothing about Gwen is cold, you might have noticed.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Oh I have. For instance, those coffee-warmed fingers of hers. Pornographic.
She let the conversation roll by as she tried to work. She had about fifteen police reports to do, and then at least three or four UNIT reports, and then a bunch of archival forms for Archie up at Torchwood Two. It was difficult, though, when Ianto seemed to have no trouble continuing his chatting on the phones to various officials, paperwork filing (she had three attachments from him re: documents in the last fifteen minutes alone), and apparently discussing her finer points in Twitter with Jack, who certainly had his own share of work in his office. Not that it ever got done.
That was uncharitable. Jack had taken on Tosh's job with gusto, actually, and though there was a great deal he wasn't good at (the patience part especially), he was doing passing fair until they hired someone new.
The medic part, however, was an issue. Ianto tried to do what he could, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't a biologist, let alone a xenobiologist. They needed someone and fast, before the morgue started to overflow.
hubscoutmaster: @shesgotagun Hey Gwen, when Ianto says that he's a perfectionist, he's not joking.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Gwen is well aware of my personality quirks, sir.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever I just think we should all give homage where homage is due. You have very sexy ways. Orgasmic ways.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Have you tied her up yet? It's the best.
Gwen rolled her eyes and shifted in her seat.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster Yes, he's very thorough. I see that you are all talk, though, and very little action.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster Sir.
hubscoutmaster: @shesgotagun Well, this is Twitter. It's a word interface program.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster You're ruining the mystique.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster Go on then. Dazzle me.
For a long time there was nothing, and Gwen wondered if they were a) going to get anything done that day and b) actually about to have cybersex in less than 140 characters. Jack could probably do it in 80.
Ianto closed yet another file and added it to his pile, his eyes scanning the room in the most blasé of ways before he made a big show of cracking his knuckles and settling in front of the keyboard.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster I think, sir, that you would start by kissing that fuckable mouth.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Then you might turn your attention to her overly-lovely breasts.
Gwen smiled and closed her file. It was pointless to bother trying to work.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Then, I'd remove that blouse with my teeth, and bite her nipples through the lace. I bet her bra has peekaboo panels.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever I'm intrigued. You've thought about this. Do go on. Do I remove the bra? What about her neck?
Ianto's eyes flitted to her and she felt her face flush as he examined her studiously, like some sort of butcher trying to ascertain the best plan of approach.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster Leave the bra on for now. Lick the neck. She likes love bites, the ones that leave a mark, but you can't do that, obviously.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster I like biting.
She typed it before she could stop herself. There was a barked laugh from up in Jack's office and the typing of keys.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever @shesgotagun I think I'll save the biting for your perfect arse. It is immensely gorgeous. But to get there, I'd have to remov
There was a noise of indignation from upstairs; Gwen snickered and Ianto snorted.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster 140 characters or less.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever @shesgotagun e your jeans.
Gwen was about to type a response when the Rift alarm went off, for the first time in three days. She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.
***
Andy called around six, and Gwen reclined in her chair. The Hub had been quiet for the rest of the day, a blessed thing, and she had genuinely been startled when her phone had begun to vibrate under a mound of papers. She fished about for it and answered just before it would have gone to voicemail.
"Hey," Andy said. "I was wondering if you wanted to meet for a drink. Talk shop."
Gwen sighed and looked at her inbox. It hadn't moved since she started in the morning. "Can't. I have too much work." Gwen glanced at the pile of folders that seemed to have reproduced like rabbits in the short time they had been out on a mission.
"I just wanted to talk to you about those openings you mentioned," Andy said, sounding aggravated. "You know, if you're still, hold on--" She heard him press the phone to his chest and the muffled rumble of him cursing at someone about parking.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun Stop chewing your lip. It's too sexy.
Gwen frowned and made a face. She shifted the phone under her chin as she typed.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Stop it. Phone.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun Does he know that I've seen you naked and panting?
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Bollocks.
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun No. Quite right. Wishful thinking.
Gwen glanced at Ianto, but he was working. His face buried in a file, coffee mug in hand. He glanced up, probably because he felt her staring, and gave her the "What?" face. She shook her head.
Andy was back on the phone. "Well, anyway, I wanted to let you know, incase you were filling the vacancies. I know it hasn't been long since your mates died, but you mentioned that you were short staffed…" Gwen blinked through her blurry vision and resolutely didn't look over at Owen's desk.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever You're just saying that.
"Oh yeah, well, I would love to," (no she wouldn't), "but tonight isn't going to work. I'm so backlogged, I thought I'd use a free night to catch up while Rhys is at the match…"
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun Never. ;P
There were a few more mumbled confirmations, shared 'I'll call you, yeah?'s and Gwen hung up, feeling tired and vaguely hungry.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Curry?
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun I'm on it.
Funny, how they didn't have to talk anymore, even though he was not a hundred feet from her.
Jack was conspicuously silent on Twitter. Gwen heard the chime of his notification from his office, so obviously he had to have known what they were saying, but he hadn't added anything.
Had he simply made his point? She wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, but part of her felt chastised. The other part of her was angry at Jack for ruining one of the only fun things about her days at work. The Hub was empty and lonely, and they didn't play basketball anymore (Well that one really bad game of HORSE after Jack got back from the TARDIS, but that had been sad, and she'd cried.). So yeah, a little silly pervy fun over a computer with someone else who was as equally off limits as she was didn't hurt.
Plus, Ianto was funny. And rather filthy.
Jack materialised at her desk at six-thirty. "I wasn't joking about that drink."
***
Gwen sat on the sofa and swirled her drink in her glass. She sat next to Jack, Ianto on his other side, both a little tipsy themselves. Dear god, she hoped that the Rift alarm wouldn't go off, because she imagined that the ensuing activity would look like the Benny Hill show in slow motion.
Now the song was stuck in her head. She smacked her forehead.
Jack grabbed her hand. "Stop hurting yourself," he said jokingly, but it wasn't funny.
They'd started with a take-away curry and a box of stuffed grape leaves, and then moved into the single malt in good time. Gwen was unsure of what number glass she was on, but it had to be in the extremely low digits. Ianto didn't seem to be bothered at all by the alcohol, and she envied him. If Jack was even remotely drunk, he didn't show it. She just liked to think they were both as pissed as she was.
The plan had been to go through all the files from UNIT and a few other places to find a replacement for Owen. That had been the plan. Then the plan had evolved to actual drinks, and then to a weeding process that, once they had pulled out all the ones they didn't like because of qualifications, they were now picking through based on aesthetic purposes.
"I think," she said aloud, more loudly than she had planned, "we should really go with the doctor from UNIT. The one with the large mustache."
Jack rolled his head back on the sofa cushions. "In America, they call that a pornstache." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I don't know if I could work with a guy who has a pornstache."
Ianto leaned forward and poured himself another finger of scotch. "We could tell him he has to shave for safety reasons. It wouldn’t be too much of a lie that way."
Jack laughed, a short clipped thing that reminded her of the one he'd made earlier in the day when--
"I miss Tosh," she said suddenly, not even sure where it had come from. "I keep thinking that if I pretend that everything is normal, then she'll just walk through the door." She glanced over at Jack then. "Do you ever feel that way?"
Jack looked into the bottom of his glass instead of her. "You have no idea," he told the thick glass bottom darkly.
Ianto sighed and sat back so that she couldn't see his face through Jack's body in the middle. Just as well. She noticed that ever since she'd had that second? third? drink she'd been extremely interested in Ianto's hands and how they curved about the glass. Residual Twitter porn looping through her head, she figured. She'd sat on Jack's other side after dinner simply to help forget about it.
"I keep placing the same order at Tesco's for pick up," he confessed, his voice small and far away. "Every time I go to pick it up, I'm always surprised to see the Twiglets in there. Owen was the only one who ate them."
Jack smiled. "I'll eat his Twiglets."
"You don't need his Twiglets," Ianto said off-hand.
"Hey," Jack started, and then just stopped. "Nah, I don't need his Twiglets."
They stared at their feet on the coffee table, at the water tower, at the glasses in their hands. Gwen wanted to talk about Owen and Tosh. She wanted to talk about Gray, actually, to ask Jack if he regretted what he did, if he thought they should be trying to save him down there in the vaults, but she didn't. She wasn't ready for that first bit, and if they couldn't face the first bit, then the last bit was off the table.
She finished her drink. "Well, you two, I think we've done all we can for the day. I need a taxi." She rolled her head towards Jack, and he blinked at her, eyes trying to see her, but they were too close. She could feel her retinas adjusting to the depth perception.
"Before you go," Jack said, raising his brows and grinning before turning his head to study the water tower in front of them. "I think it's within my rights to ask how long the two of you have been having secret cyber sex on the web. You know, on the clock." One hand slapped down on her knee, flat and broad, before curving to cup her leg. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, if that's what you're into." His hand tripped up her thigh. "It's a waste, though, really."
Ianto snorted into his glass. "Weren't you the one describing neural e-sex to me in full detail the other night?"
Jack smiled, and he didn't look at Gwen, even as his hand continued a sliding path up her thigh to curve in between her legs. "Oh yeah, I was, wasn't I?"
She wanted to tell him to stop, but she was pretty damn curious, actually. Jack was nonchalant and almost distracted. Ianto hadn't even noticed. She wondered if this was all a charming ploy.
"Funny thing about cyber sex," he said to Ianto, not looking at Gwen, "You don’t have to feel it. You just say it. Hands busy on the keyboard, not on an actual body." To punctuate his point his fingers hooked in between her legs and tightened against the seam of her denims. Gwen sucked in her breath, eyes riveted to the waterfall in front of them, pouring down into the pool below.
Ianto set down his glass deliberately, then, sitting forward on the sofa and pulling Jack towards him by the collar. "Mmm, nothing wrong with keyboards," he said, his lips brushing Jack's. Gwen knew that her eyes were impossibly wide, she could feel them drying out. "All those things to press on." To make his point, he undid the top three buttons of Jack's shirt.
Jack's hand moved in a grinding circle against her, and she wanted to close her eyes. She really wanted to watch them, eye-sexing each other and undressing and pretending like Jack wasn't finger fucking her through her jeans, but she was almost afraid that if she did, they'd remember that she was there. She wasn't sure if she wanted them to focus on her, not entirely. Not at the same time.
Ianto pressed his mouth to Jack's finally, opening against it, his breath heavy against Jack's cheek. Jack made a small noise in this throat, maybe surprise, maybe just satisfaction, and his fingers stumbled as they grasped for her, scraping backwards up her waist to search for the button of her denims. Gwen watched them as if they were some sort of alien creature that she was afraid to touch lest it attack her. When Jack leaned into Ianto, driving their mouths together, Gwen closed her eyes and let her head rest against the cushion behind her.
They must have been busy, really, with the kissing and Gwen heard the slide of Ianto's loosened tie, satin of waistcoats falling back, the clanking of a belt buckle or two. The hand on Gwen had stopped moving, fingers digging into her waist band and rather clutching, as if Jack wanted to hold her in place. She sucked in a breath and thought about the slightly tilting room, the sound of the water hitting the basin from the tower, the heat coming from Jack's hand as his knuckles pressed into her navel.
There was nothing but a small grunt suddenly and then, the cessation of making out. Gwen wanted to crack an eye open, but she felt tingly, hairs on the back of her neck standing up.
"Gwen likes biting," Ianto whispered, and she could tell by the very sound of it that they were both looking right at her. Oh hell. "Gwen," he continued and the hand left her waistband. She heard the final slide of waistcoats coming off free arms, followed by shirts. Her heart thudded in her chest and her eyes felt vaguely wired, as if her pupils were dilated as far as they could go. She was grateful for the Hub's dim lighting.
"Gwen," Ianto said in a low voice, "Likes to take charge."
Her eyes opened then, just in time to see Jack complete a line up the side of Ianto's neck with his tongue, just the very tip of it curving up to end right behind his ear. Ianto's mouth quirked up at one end and he made eye contact with her as Jack nuzzled his ear and the hollow behind it.
"Oh, now, really?" Jack said, turning towards her, when Ianto pinned his hands behind his back and forced his chest around. "It's a united front, is it?"
Gwen was pretty sure that they were anything but united. Or maybe they were. "Twitter taught us many things," Ianto said, as if he was delivering an educational lecture. "For instance, Gwen is aware that you love her breasts, and are desperate to actually see them, sans anything in the way."
Gwen smiled at that. Jack snorted and tried to look amused, but somewhere in his eyes she saw just a hint of something worried. "Oh Twitter is to blame for this then?" he breathed when she sat up, reached out one hand and ran it along his jaw. Jack had a lovely face, really, and she wanted to cradle it in her hand, push her fingers into that welcoming mouth. Jack's lips curved in his wide smile, a glint of teeth behind them, coy eyes, just for Gwen. A little eyelash bat. She couldn't resist that look then, and it was so very easy to pull that chin in, kiss those lips, laughing, laughing.
So easy to trace Ianto's earlier marks up Jack's neck with her tongue, bury her nose in his hair, smell the odour of him that pooled in the hollow of his ear after a whole day.
"What do you have against Twitter?" she whispered before pulling away and tugging her blouse off with one hand. Behind him, Ianto smirked and mouthed the words, 'Sex fairy top.' A glance at it reminded Gwen that it was indeed red.
"I can get behind Twitter," Jack whispered, trying to lean forward towards her breasts but failing when Ianto tugged on his wrists. "Okay Ianto, you can let go now."
Ianto let go, raising his hands in the air in a surrendering gesture, and Jack toppled over into Gwen, face first. His hands found her shoulders and the bra straps there, but his mouth just turned to the left a bit to bite the mound of her breast, his eyes open and rolled upwards, that lopsided smile almost perfectly lascivious. Her bra straps travelled down her shoulders and trapped her there a little, as if his weight wasn't enough. Jack bit down on the material cupping her breast and pulled it with his teeth, playful puppy.
Ianto smiled and stood, moving the coffee table a few feet away with one long leg, preparing, preparing for something that she just realised was going to happen. Something that required the movement of furniture.
Jack raised himself enough that he could shift up, his bare chest hot and covering hers. She fell further back into the sofa then, enjoying the spin a bit, trying to watch Ianto undo his trousers with those fingers and also watch Jack's head slide into her line of vision, biting at her chin, her jaw, sniffing up her cheek until he could kiss her again, and oh Jesus that was nice, Jack and scotch and his tongue barraging her mouth, licking and biting and clacking teeth.
Jack kissed like he did most things, she discovered: hard, intense, like he was paying attention to only it, though that was impossible. He was trying to tell her something when he nodded his head with hers, when he moaned a little into her mouth. His hands twisted her straps and tugged.
There was a faint laugh when she broke away, and Jack lowered his head to rest on her shoulder. "Bra straps," he murmured. Gwen shifted, and the straps pulled, slithered around her elbows and through her hands and she was free suddenly, as Jack sat up to look at her. Behind him, Ianto crawled along in his shorts, settling on the sofa at the other end, one long leg tucked up so that he could stroke himself through the cotton in his lap.
"Now tell me," Jack said, leaning back into Ianto and drawing her hands with him, "what could you possibly hope to accomplish in less than a hundred forty characters?" He pulled and Gwen fell on him this time, Ianto smirking at her and drawing circles on Jack's shoulders and chest with his fingers. Jack sighed and wriggled against Ianto's lap.
Gwen settled on Jack and ran her hands through his hair. "I could get you off," she drawled.
"She could," Ianto confirmed. "One hundred forty characters."
Jack laughed then, and rubbed his head against Ianto's bare chest. "Okay then, Dazzle me." Gwen pulled his belt from his loops and tossed it away. "That might have been an important prop," he murmured.
Gwen grabbed his chin and stilled his turning head. "Shut up."
Ianto tucked his hands under Jack's and pulled, so that Jack was forced upright in his lap. Gwen unbuttoned the trousers and pulled, and they slid from his waist and down his legs with a satisfying noise. Jack lifted his hips. "That was eight characters. One thirty-two to go."
Gwen felt her smile more than processed it, running her nails over Jack's hairless legs and down to peel off his socks and find the condom tucked in by his ankle. She held it up and he shrugged. "Hub scout."
"Hrm."
"One twenty-eight."
Gwen ran one nail down the y-fronts, along the heavy seams of the design opening. "Should I fuck you through them?" His cock was hard, very warm and rigid under her hand, and she pulled the opening wide enough and stretched it, until she could maneuver his cock out of it, red and jutting, standing on its own in the framework of the underwear, like threading a needle, actually.
Jack groaned and rolled his hips. "Now, that's-"
Ianto reached down and grabbed it in one hand, jostling it like a gear shaft. "Careful Jack, you only have fifty characters left." Jack's eyes fluttered closed, and Gwen leaned forward to lick the head of it, working her tongue in the slit, under the foreskin. He smelled like sweat and that male scent that men got from being trapped in their pants all day. She wondered if she had a smell like that.
She wondered if it smelled as promising as this.
Jack raised his hips off the sofa and Ianto chuckled, his hand leaving Jack's cock to cup Gwen's face as she took Jack in her mouth, one of them on the inside of her and the other on the outside, Gwen pressed her tongue against the underside of Jack's cock and shuddered. She was wearing too many clothes. It was cliched and uncomplicated and very true, though.
She spent precious little time on his cock. Jack was lovely, but it wasn't what she wanted, not at this moment, and this was a moment that would end soon enough, and she might never see it again. All around them the dim light pooled in crevices and against the tiled walls, and the only sounds were fluid: the water in the pool, the soft hum of Owen's refrigeration units, the cycling of Tosh's programs sifting through data, Jack's throaty whinges when she let go of him and sat back on her elbows to tug her own jeans down.
"Hush," Ianto murmured when Jack groaned at the sight of Gwen peeling her jeans and panties away. He levered the man up and reached around him, sliding his hands under the waistband of Jack's y-fronts and gently extricating his cock so that he could tuck the waistband of his y-fronts under it. The white cotton was taut against the lower curve of his hips, almost incandescent against his tan skin. "Gwen is going to use some of her leftover characters." And with that, he pushed Jack towards Gwen and tossed the condom wrapper in front to land on the skin where Jack's cock curved upwards toward his belly. Gwen snickered.
"I couldn't do that again if I tried," Jack said, plucking the condom from his lap and flourishing it with two fingers. "May I?"
Gwen cocked her head and wondered at the inviting nature of it all. Jack gave her his smile again, hesitant eyes and bragging mouth. She took the condom from his hand and unwrapped it, rolling it down his cock and applying a judicious amount of pressure. Ianto left them for a moment, disappearing into the recesses of the Hub dark, spectral. She wondered if he was coming back until there was a screech of a drawer and he seemed to slide out of the shadows. Gwen didn't have time to think about him when Jack settled himself along the stretch of sofa, pulling her with him, guiding her up and over until they fit together like a jigsaw.
Everything always stretched in that time for Gwen, that first few seconds when the cock slotted in and she could just rest there with it inside her, no hurry, no, just feel it in her like some foreign thing that she hadn't known she was missing. She leant forward to Jack, lips ghosting his cheek when he reach around to finally unhook the clasp of her bra and drag it between them off the sofa and onto the floor with everything else.
"What would you type in now?" he whispered, "Busy little fingers."
"Fuck me," she whispered, rocking against him so that his eyes fluttered and his mouth made a moue that was impossible to resist. Gwen kissed it again, and Jack's tongue drove into her; he reached up with one hand to steady her face, tangle his fingers in her hair.
Ianto laughed. "Oh em gee, one one one," he mumbled before barking a laugh, and then she felt his hand on her hip, and his fingers dancing down her back. She had almost forgotten him, but there he was, right as the rain, ever steady. Gwen pressed her forehead to Jack's and simply breathed, breathed as he rested inside her, his arms holding her on his lap when Ianto's pornographic fingers earned their name by slipping inside her,
She had thought it might be strange, having fingers there, the whole time trying not to move too much with Jack. Ianto seemed content to wait for her to rock back and forth; his fingers followed her when she lifted herself up, sliding forward against Jack and off his cock. His lips trailed along her waist, other hand on her hip. Under her, Jack bucked and laughed.
"Twitter is slow today. I'm not getting any updates."
Gwen sat hard on him and he grunted. "Again, shhh."
Ianto snorted behind her and Jack grinned, hands busy finding her clit, finding her breast, squeezing, typing messages across her skin. She was so busy with the tickling of it, the stiffness inside her that she hadn't noticed that Ianto had lined himself up until he pushed inside her, his mouth on the nape of her neck.
"Relax," he whispered, and groaned all the way in.
Gwen stiffened with it, back rigid, skewered and frozen until Jack helped her rise a little, and Ianto tugged on her so that she was upright.
"I've got you," Ianto whispered. "We've got you." Then he slid out a little and pushed back in so that she moved, and then Jack moved, rolling his hips, his eyes focused over her shoulder, probably at Ianto. Her hands fluttered at her sides like paper birds, like the cranes that Tosh used to make for her after lunch. If she wanted she could look over right now and see one of them, but-
It was a rolling thing, this movement, a boat on water, vaguely like rocking in a bathtub so that waves could crash together in the center. Ianto guided her hips back and forwards on Jack's cock, always sliding out as she seated herself on it. Her hands reached down and found Jack's mouth, lips sucking her in, eyes doll-like with their lashes opening and closing in time with the thrusting of his hips.
One of those things then, one of those things that never lasted as long as it should, but actually was just right. Before her thighs could start to shake with the levering and thrusting, before Ianto could complain about being cold or Jack could admit that they were crushing his chest when they fell forwards onto him once or twice, Jack arched his back and Gwen and Ianto almost fell backwards. His cock bent down when she slid, and Jack seemed to like that even more. Ianto had long since reached around to work her clit while they moved, building pressure, and part of her felt as if she had just been waiting. Waiting for someone to tell her to go, to just go now Gwen.
And so she did, one last hurrah on Jack's cock--a few violent thrusts, his face scrunching and mouth parting in quiet shock. He grabbed her hands in his and ran them up and down her spent thighs while Ianto caught up, still so very reticent, removed, amused even as he came inside her and buried his face in her hair.
It took a few tries then, to arrange themselves, slipping apart, unhooking and laughing and groaning and wiping themselves with wet napkins that Ianto seemed to have Accioed from a secret place. They smelled like apples, Gwen thought as she ran one down her thigh and sat next to Jack. He took her chin in one hand, one more time, yeah, the fingers said, and kissed her, his tongue a brand, the stubborn friction of his sweaty jaw against her cheek when he pulled away to nuzzle her ear almost like skidding to a stop in a car, burning rubber.
Jack licked a trail of sweat from her shoulder and sighed into her skin. "I think that was more than a hundred forty characters," he said, tossing the wet tissues and flotsam on the floor. Ianto would get them later; she suspected he always got them later. Who would pass up this last part of the moment, this sweaty embrace, curled against the rough fibers and Jack's warm skin, all but absorbing him through osmosis?
The sofa shifted as Ianto pulled the afghan from the back and threw it over them all, yanking Jack back to settle between them. Gwen allowed herself to be tucked into the circle of Jack's arms and stared out at the Hub, this empty place that used to seem too small, too busy, too full, and now just looked like an empty ribcage.
"Speak for yourself," Ianto drawled. "I counted."
Jack's arms snaked behind them both and Gwen turned so that her face was almost buried in the crook of his arm. Across from her Ianto closed his eyes and breathed deep. She wondered sometimes, what he thought of all this-the death, the danger, the imminent loss that was just on the edge of everything. Or she could just be over-dramatising in the afterglow.
Jack waited another beat and then squeezed Gwen's shoulder. It was reassuring. "I told you he was a perfectionist. But I suppose it was enough, right?"
There was a volley of snorting, probably the best response, anyway. Ianto opened his eyes and looked at her, his face so close, and something in her wanted to touch him, give him a pat on the head, say 'good boy' for what he'd done. Instead, she watched them flutter closed again and took up a scan about the Hub: Myfanwy in her nest, mantling and crooning; the flash drive swinging merrily on Tosh's monitor; the blurry blue glow of Ianto's screensaver; the incandescent filter of Jack's desk lamp up on another level; the whisper of the water running down the tower into the cycling pool.
"It was enough," she admitted drowsily, with more finality than she thought she could muster. "It's enough."
***
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Do I smell curry?
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster No, that would be weevil remains all over the autopsy bay.
shesgotagun: @hubscoutmaster @rugby4ever I'm not cleaning them up this time. It’s Jack's fault.
hubscoutmaster: @shesgotagun Wait, what? I didn't feed it the pop rocks, Gwen. It just ate them before I could stop it.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever Tell her.
rugby4ever: @hubscoutmaster You're cleaning it up.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever You tell him.
hubscoutmaster: @rugby4ever @shesgotagun You two are no fun anymore.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Is he gone?
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun I think so. I was thinking of seeing a film this weekend. One straight through.
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Rhys and I are going to my in-laws'. :(
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun Smiley. :P
shesgotsgun: @rugby4ever Shut it. It's your fault. Remember when we used to use this for sex?
rugby4ever: @shesgotagun I know. What has become of us?
Gwen glanced up then, and Ianto blinked back at her, as if surprised to see her face. "I think we got better," she said aloud, and for once, her words didn't echo.
END