Will My Arms Be Strong Enough? Interlude Four: New Year's Eve
Title: Will My Arms Be Strong Enough? Interlude Four: New Year's Eve
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys...and others!
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, John Hart, two OC's, Andrea (Andie) Carlowe and Nick Jones.
Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds.
Summary: What did our boys do on New Year's Eve? Takes place directly after Chapter 24.
Warnings: It's smut. Pure and simple smut. I'm not kidding. It's VERY adult.
Interlude 4 - New Year’s Eve
John swallowed hard. His cock was twitching in his pants as Nick trailed the wooden spoon slowly down the side of his face, dripping more and more chocolate over him. He knew that he did not have the self-control for this; that had been worn away a long time ago. Suddenly, he gasped out loud as he felt something warm pressing against his crotch. Looking down, his eyes widened at the sight of Nick’s chocolate-covered hand undoing his fly and stroking him inside his trousers.
“Niiiick…” he whined, hating how horribly needy he sounded, not to mention the fact that he couldn’t help it.
Nick grinned at him and, without saying a word, he removed his hand and slowly turned on his heel, almost gliding towards the bedroom. At the doorway, he paused, turned back and, with a long, slow wink, he held up five fingers before disappearing with a flick of his auburn hair.
John swallowed and leaned against the worktop, panting suddenly feeling as spent as if he’d just come out of an ancient Roman orgy. God, he thought, if he can get me like this just by touching me… he shuddered in pleasure.
It was only then that he realised that, not only were his trousers still open, but his sweater and shirt had disappeared. A quick look around told him that they were now tossed carelessly onto the sofa behind him, though quite when Nick had done that, he didn’t know. However, he didn’t have any more time to think, because he then heard a low moan come from the bedroom. With a small gasp as he felt a sharp heat in his loins, John raced into the bedroom, only to come to an abrupt halt in the doorway as his eyes took in the sight before him.
The room was lit by the familiar red bulbs, reflected in the mirrors on the ceiling and around the bed. A chair was placed at the foot of the bed with what looked like a small easel in front of it. But John’s eyes skimmed over all that as he found himself drawn to the sight of the young man spread out, naked, on the bed in front of him, his bright hair twirling around his shoulders. He was twirling his finger around the bowl of melted chocolate, occasionally bringing it out and impaling himself on it, letting out soft moans as he felt the warm substance flowing inside him.
John shivered as he caught the chair to stop himself falling. “Look at you,” he growled, “look at you, lying there all wanton and knowing exactly what you’re doing to me…my God, Nick…”
Nick didn’t say a word. Instead, he turned his body slightly, revealing something standing out against his sweat-covered skin. A flicker of red light revealed that it was the slender piece of black leather that he had worn on their first date, the silver Welsh dragon glinting at his throat. Suddenly, his eyes darkened until they were almost black tunnels, drowning John in their depths, almost forcing him onto autopilot. He didn’t even realise that Nick had spoken until he found himself seated in the chair with the easel in front of him. And yet, somehow, he had found himself doing exactly what the younger man asked of him.
Swallowing hard, he picked up the pencil and twirled it in between his fingers before shifting slightly in an attempt to get himself as comfortable as was possible, given his…awkward situation. He turned slightly and saw Nick tilt his head, his eyes darkening by the minute. With a small gasp as he tried to ignore the increasing heat in his groin, he set the pencil onto the paper.
He had no idea how long he spent at that easel, sketching the smooth lines that made out the contours of Nick’s lithe body and lightly drawing his brush over the waves in his hair. All he knew was that he wanted nothing more than to really trace those lines that he suddenly felt he knew so well, to feel that soft skin underneath his fingers and to grip at those long waves of auburn hair, losing himself in the intense scent that was just him…just quintessentially Nick Jones.
He smiled softly; that must have been the plan all along; he wanted John to get to know his body without actually touching him…and what better way to do it than to sketch him?
He grinned to himself. Oh, Doctor Jones, you’re good.
His pencil flittered over the page, drawing the long lines of his calf muscle, up the curve of his thigh - God! He knows what this is doing to me, doesn't he? Oh, those legs...
He imagined drawing his fingertips over the straining muscle and up to the smooth skin on Nick's hip. His fingers jerked involuntarily with need, the pencil dancing in his hand before he gained control of it again.
He was so absorbed in his task that he didn’t hear the soft pattering over the floor and consequently jumped when he felt something cold hit the skin below his neck. He looked down and felt his breath hitch at the sight of the now familiar silver dragon shining at his throat. Slowly, he turned around and saw Nick standing beside him, a broad grin spreading over his face. His eyes were wide and sparkling bright and John suddenly realised that he had never seen the young doctor without his glasses. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that because moments later, Nick leaned over and kissed him deeply, wrapping his arms around his waist and sliding his hands downwards until he was running his fingers over his hip bones.
John felt his stomach contract as Nick slowly eased his trousers and underwear over his hips and ran his fingers over his bare skin, peppering his face with kisses until the former Time Agent was sitting bare in front of him. Then, he picked up a clean paintbrush, thought for a moment, dipped it into the red paint and starting to run the brush over John’s upper thigh, before shifting to the side, revealing the mirror behind him, a cheeky grin spreading over his face as he did so.
A moment later, John realised that the young doctor had written something on his skin and he leaned closer to read it. His eyes widened as he realised what it said and he turned an incredulous look towards Nick, who merely grinned and nodded, still not saying a word.
Never let it be said that Captain John Hart backs down from a challenge, he mused to himself as he picked Nick up and lay him down on the bed before lying down between his legs. With a deep breath, he bent his head and slowly started to run his tongue around the inside of the young man’s hole, shuddering as he felt the half-hardened chocolate melting over his tongue, the sweet taste mingling with the unique essence of his young lover.
Occasionally, he would flick his eyes upwards to see Nick’s face and grin slightly to himself when he saw how the man’s pupils had dilated and a hot flush was making its way up his shining body as he canted his hips, basking in the pleasure he was receiving from the man’s hot tongue. With a small laugh, he increased his movements, twisting and turning his tongue in every direction he could possibly manage, showing Nick all the different sensations he could, almost laughing when he heard the young man gasping above him, in his efforts not to scream and break the spell.
It didn’t last long. Within five minutes, John was writhing as he felt hot wet spurts streaming through his hair and running down his back. But he didn’t stop; he kept on rimming and licking until he had coaxed Nick’s entire orgasm out of him. Then, and only then, he slowly eased his tongue out of him and settled back, sprawling himself over the foot of the bed, panting softly.
With a grin, Nick eased him back onto the mattress, locking his bent knees around John’s calf muscles, and shivering in pleasure as he saw the older man’s back shining white with his seed. It had thrilled him to no end that John had been able to make him come like that from doing something so simple. Now, it was his turn to make the other man tick…
Very slowly, he dipped his hands in the still-warm melted chocolate and slathered it all over John’s back, his breath hitching at the loud moans his actions were causing. Oh, you like that, don’t you, Captain Sparky… he thought to himself. Well, just you wait…
Carefully, making sure his knees stayed in place, he bent over and started licking the marbled mess from John’s skin, shuddering as he inhaled the unique taste of the rogue Time Agent mixing with the sweet chocolate and the salty tang of his own orgasm.
“Jesus, Nick!” exclaimed John, breaking the silence as he felt the younger man’s cock rutting against his clenched buttocks. “I just…how can you be so hard so quickly?!” He fell into the pillows with a groan. “Oh, to be twenty-five again…”
“It’s my twenty-first century stamina,” answered Nick, his voice heavy with barely restrained lust. “You people have no idea…”
John chuckled slightly into the pillows, but the sound quickly became a gasp of shock as he felt a thick layer of something warm being dripped inside him. “Oh, God!” he shouted when he realised that Nick was using the chocolate as a form of lubricant. “Nick, I’m gonna -” but the words died away when the younger man began scissoring him, working his fingers inside him, slowly at first and then faster and faster, sending shockwaves through his entire body.
And then, without warning, he was seeing stars as he felt Nick’s throbbing cock entering him, a long slow torture, until finally he hit that one incredibly sweet spot that made John howl like a wild beast. Then, and only then, he started to move faster and faster, setting the pace, forcing John to keep time with him, or else be left behind. At the same time, he slowly began to lower himself on top of the other man’s back, growling as he felt the sticky mixture from earlier coating his chest.
“You might…have the fifty-first century pheromones,” he panted as he drove in deeper and deeper. “But…I’ve got the twenty-first century…stamina…”
Then, without any warning, he dipped his hands back into the bowl, coating them with chocolate until it was literally dripping from his long fingers and wound his arms down John’s torso, working his hands downwards until he was massaging the man’s waist, his fingers stroking his lower body, stimulating him until he couldn’t see anything beyond the pillows directly under his head.
“Oh, God, yes!” shrieked John, almost shattering his own eardrums as he came, exploding all over the sheets in what was easily the most mind-blowing orgasm he’d had in a very long time.
That yell was all it took to bring Nick over the edge too and he came with one last deep thrust and a violent gasp before he tumbled to the side, not even minding about the slight spillage as he rolled over onto his back, his chest heaving gently.
John turned round to look at him and grinned. “I had no idea you could be so filthy,” he breathed, running his fingers over Nick’s collarbone.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” panted Nick, leaning over to suck at John’s neck, licking away the melted chocolate that was clinging there, his fingers slowly dancing over the man’s body as his eyes watched the scene in the mirror opposite. Suddenly, he frowned. “Hey…you were asking me how I got hard so quickly…just look at you.”
John looked down at himself and chuckled, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. “Well, what can I say?” he stammered. “You’re…you’re a very…arousing young man.”
Nick chuckled, the motion causing his chest to ripple slightly as he eased himself off the bed. “There’s plenty more where that came from,” he said, before getting up and making his way towards the shower, only to turn back when he realised he was alone. “What? Aren’t you coming? Don’t you want to…” and here he trailed off, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
John gulped and leapt off the bed in double quick speed, his unsteady legs no longer mattering to him as his mind wandered towards all the wonderful things those raised eyebrows promised…
~*~
Jack kicked open the door to the Tourist Information office and carried a giggling Ianto over the threshold, bending slightly to kiss him on the nose and deposit him on the desk with a smile.
“Jack!” squeaked Ianto as he felt something cold start to run down the back of his sweater.
“Yes?” Jack’s face was the picture of innocence.
“You’re getting…oh, stop it! You’re just…Jack, the snow’s falling down my back!” shrieked Ianto as he wriggled out of his coat and sweater, his sides aching from laughing so hard.
Jack chuckled and brushed the snow from his coat before draping it over the younger man’s shoulders and leaning down to kiss him properly. “Do you know how hot you look in that coat?” he growled, running his hands through Ianto’s hair. “I’m getting hard just looking at you!”
“And don’t I know it,” replied Ianto, his eyes travelling down Jack’s body. “Is that a Webley down there, or are you just pleased to see me?”
“Cheeky brat!” snarled Jack, though his eyes were glinting with excitement, a far cry from earlier when he had been staring at the stars with such a lost expression barely fifteen minutes earlier.
“And don’t you love it.”
Jack burst out laughing for a solid minute before he wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist and pressed the younger man’s hand against his crotch. “That’s what you do to me, Mr. Jones,” he gasped. “You get me so hot…it’s almost more than I can take.”
He bent down again, slowly unfastening the buttons on Ianto’s shirt and unzipping his jeans, teasing the soft skin he found under there. “I’m so hard for you right now,” he breathed.
“So I see,” answered Ianto, his face impassive. “What do you want to do to me, Jack?”
Jack let out a groan of appreciation; he loved it when Ianto asked him that. “Oh, far too many things to name,” he murmured. “But first…I need to prepare a few…things.” He let the last word roll off his tongue, drawing out the ‘s’ sound in a way that he knew drove Ianto wild.
“What sort of things…” asked Ianto, also enunciating his words with a husky roll, “Captain?”
Jack’s eyes widened at that and he visibly struggled to get himself back under control. “Oh,” he panted, eventually, “there is quite a list…” He bent down, anxious to reclaim the upper hand again. “I’ll see you in the hothouse in…ten minutes.” He picked up his coat and swept it over his shoulder as he breezed out of the tourist. “Be prepared.”
Ianto smirked as he watched the older man disappear from view. “Be prepared,” he growled to himself as he rummaged in his coat pocket, eventually coming up with a tube of lubricant. “Oh, I’ll show you being prepared, Mr. Jack Harkness.”
He kicked off his shoes and toed off his socks before slowly lowering his trousers and silk boxers to the floor so they lay pooled around his ankles. Then, he pulled his shirt off his shoulders so that it was almost resting behind him like a cloak, except that his arms were still covered by the fabric and lay back on the information desk, exposed in full view of the CCTV cameras.
“I’ll show you prepared, Captain Jack Harkness,” he growled as he unscrewed the tube and spread a generous amount over his hand, which he then lowered over his crotch, letting the liquid drip off his fingers and onto his skin. He slowly rubbed it all over his most sensitive areas, making no effort to hide the gasps and moans as they fell from his lips and making full use of his long and nimble fingers as he impaled and scissored himself, bucking his hips and almost arching himself completely off the desk as his hips bucked in time with his hand.
“Oh, God, yes…” he moaned, filling the room with the sound of his voice as he rode on his own fingers, hard and fast. “Oh, yes, Jack…God, yes, right there…oh, yes, I’m so close!”
It was then that he realised that he was indeed extremely close to coming all over the desk. His cock was throbbing so hard it felt as though it was on fire, the raging heat spreading through every nerve in his body, causing his heart to beat so fast, he thought he might explode. Panting heavily, he slowly removed his fingers, groaning loudly at the emptiness, but consoling himself that there would soon be something even better to come.
Without even bothering about the rest of his clothes, Ianto padded back into the Hub itself, taking his time to preen and stroke himself in front of the cameras on his way up to the hothouse. Halfway up the stairs, he paused, and, with a dainty shrug, let his shirt fall to the ground, smiling as it landed in a soft red puddle below him before he made his way through the glass doors. He was about to call out but then he stepped properly into the room and the sight before him literally took his breath away.
A chair was placed under the dimly lit Christmas tree and in it sat Jack, completely nude, except for that Santa hat placed crookedly on his head. His flushed and sweaty skin, as well as his glistening and weeping cock showed that he had, just as Ianto thought, been watching the CCTV of his little show in the tourist office. He had one hand resting around the base of his erection, his pelvis liberally glistening with lubricant…while his other hand had a very familiar little red cap twirling on top of one of his fingers.
Ianto wet his lips gently. “What can I do for you…Captain?” he asked with a husky voice. He could almost feel his eyes darkening as he gazed at the sight before him.
Without a word, Jack raised one hand and beckoned Ianto over to him, taking in his naked body as the soft light from the tree danced over it, illuminating the thin streams of sweat glistening on the younger man’s pale skin as he stood in front of him. It might have been cold outside, but right now, the name ‘hothouse’ seemed incredibly appropriate for the current situation.
Very slowly, Jack tilted the UNIT cap so it fell into his hands and placed a small kiss on top of it before reaching up to place it rakishly on top of Ianto’s head, smirking at his handiwork. Having laid it in position, he slowly ran his hand down the younger man’s naked body, taking in the way his dark hair was clinging to his face, his pert nipples, his toned and glistening abdomen and his long legs, so perfect they might have been sculpted by the gods in heaven.
Finally, Jack’s attention was drawn to his lover’s rock hard cock, which up until now he had attempted to avoid, but now found that he could no longer keep away from. He had been massaging Ianto’s pelvic muscles now, soothing him and allowing him to relax, but seeing the young man this aroused was providing him with no release for his own erection.
Gently, he leaned forwards and began to kiss and lick at the skin surrounding Ianto’s belly button, laughing softly when he heard the loud moans of pleasure escaping from the younger man’s mouth. He knew perfectly well why Ianto was carrying on in such a manner, and it wasn’t because he couldn’t help himself, but there was no way that he would even consider allowing those sounds to stop. They were simply too…stimulating.
As he nipped at Ianto’s abdomen, Jack allowed his hand to trail back up the young man’s inner thigh, again marvelling at how smooth and tender the skin was, before he rested three fingers at the base of Ianto’s cock. He paused for a second, intending to catch his breath, but before he could, Ianto began thrusting hard against his fingers, driving himself into Jack’s hand.
And who was Jack Harkness to refuse such an opportunity when it was handed to him like this? Very slowly, he began to work his fingers up and down the length of Ianto’s erection, almost feeling himself flying as he felt the younger man’s body shuddering in his grasp.
Ianto was literally seeing stars. His eyes were closed so tight, they were like little bright lights erupting behind his pupils. He had been with Jack physically for a very long time, and yet the man still knew which buttons to press to reduce him to a shivering mass of ecstasy.
But it wasn’t just Jack’s actions that were doing the talking. This time, there was more. Even through his astronomical haze brought on by the intense arousal, Ianto could hear words falling from Jack’s lips: the tangy sound of the fifty-first century dialect. That was what Jack called it and, while Ianto had no idea what the words meant, the heady and passion-filled tone of voice his lover was using was more than enough for him to be able to guess. Just hearing those unfamiliar words telling him exactly what Jack was planning on doing to him, coupled with the deft movements around his deeply sensitive loins was becoming overwhelming and with a cry of pure bliss, he found himself coming, feeling the heat enveloping his legs and, even with his eyes closed, he could picture the white seed thickly covering Jack’s thighs and his own erection, soaking him through, marking him.
A small gasp distracted him from his musings and he opened his eyes to find Jack gazing at him, his blue eyes almost as black as the darkest ink as they gazed upon him, his smile utterly smouldering, burning with desire and depths of hidden passion. He wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist and pulled him close so that the younger man was actually seated directly above his spread-eagled thighs and whispered two words, once again in that intoxicating dialect.
Even if their positions hadn’t given him a clue, the sultry tone of Jack’s voice would have said more than a thousand words ever could. With a filthy grin of his own, he pressed his palms on top of Jack’s thighs and, in one fast move, impaled himself on the man’s erection, gripping his hair and pulling him close for a burning kiss as he rode him hard and fast, screaming in pleasure as he felt Jack thrusting in time with his movements.
Oh, God… The same thought, though neither man knew it, was running through their minds as they came together, hard and fast, crying out each other’s names before they fell, panting against each other. This is certainly the right way to start of a new year…