Title: Dr. Harkness & Nurse Jones, Epilogue, The Atlantic
Title: Dr. Harkness & Nurse Jones, Epilogue, The Atlantic
Author: blue_fjords
Characters/Pairings: Ianto, Jack (Jack/Ianto), w/ mentions of Gwen/Rhys and Tosh/Donna
Rating: NC-17
Word Length: 3,600
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack and Ianto sail off into the sunset.
A/N: idamus really wanted the epilogue to this romance novel, and here it finally is. I had one half-written for over a year. Then New York legalized gay marriage, and I chucked every single word I had written. Special thanks to my posse for listening to me whine about this story for two and a half years. It's finally done! The entire story can be found here.
Water lapped gently at the side of Time Machine and a slight breeze ruffled Ianto's hair and cooled the sweat on his skin. The sun sparkled and danced on the ocean, the salty air smelled fresh and clean, and somewhere overhead, a bird cried. It was absolutely perfect. Or would have been, had Ianto not been suffering from seasickness.
He turned and wretched over the side of the boat for what felt like the hundredth time since they'd left Colombia.
The sailing idea had sounded like an utter lark in Cartagena. Everything sounded good in Cartagena - like a joyous beat had infused the city, some nameless tune that residents and visitors alike couldn't help but sway to as they moved amongst the markets and churches, restaurants and docks. Ianto envied his sister her life there with Rhys from the moment he and Jack had stepped off the plane, but no more so than right at this very moment. Cartagena, after all, did not move.
The wedding had been a blur of wine, as "all the best weddings are" - Jack, murmuring in his ear, pulling him into a dark corner. The sound of the mariachi band, the enthusiastic singing by the other wedding guests mixed with the exuberant cacophony of dozens of other parties in the city center and turned all of Cartagena into one big open-air celebration. Ianto's cries joined the whoops and hollers of hundreds of others when Jack touched him and kissed him.
Half an hour later, Gwen had grinned at their disheveled appearances and made a sly joke to make her brother and priest husband blush. Jack, of course, had roared with laughter, and done her one better with "the one about the bride, the bathtub, and the apple corer." And somehow, that had let into Rhys captaining The Love Boat, which had in turn led to the idea Ianto was currently vomiting over.
"The two of you deserve a nice, relaxing holiday," Gwen had declared. "Why not go sailing? Remember how we used to take that little dinghy out to Flat Holm when we were kids, Ianto?"
The only problem was Cardiff Bay was no wide open ocean. And besides which, Ianto thought dully, wiping his mouth again, since when had his and Jack's little adventures ever gone smoothly?
"Skipper Jones!" Jack's bellow sounded from the rear of the boat. "You will never guess what delicacy your captain has provided to tempt your palate!"
He was even whistling, the cheerful tune growing closer as Jack picked his surefooted way to the starboard railing. Ianto had to grit his teeth against another wave of nausea.
"I daresay it starts with an 'f' and ends with an 'h.'"
"This is a special fish, Ianto!" Jack insisted. He stopped out of arm's reach of Ianto, a fact which was noted by the grey-faced Skipper Jones.
"It's still fish. I'm going to bed."
After five days of his attitude, Jack didn't try to stop him, and Ianto tried not to mind.
It was stuffy in the cabin, hot and close, and Ianto wasn't the least bit tired. It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon, after all. He pulled out his watch to check the time. Well, it was 4 o'clock somewhere. His internal clock was shot to hell, and he was even having difficulty determining what direction they were headed in. It was all that water, playing tricks on him. He toed off his sneakers (Jack went barefoot on the boat), placed them carefully in the bin marked 'non-garbage' bolted to the deck, and flopped onto his bunk.
The bunks were a sore issue. Jack declared them to be authentic. Ianto declared them to be too small for two grown men. To Jack, that read as a challenge - one that he hadn't been able to meet yet, much to his frustration, but Ianto had no intention of combining vomit and sex.
He could hear Jack moving around topdeck, probably cleaning and gutting the fish, then setting up their little grill. If Ianto was lucky, he'd keep down some flatbread later. He was beginning to loath the stuff.
A couple of seagulls called loudly to each other outside the porthole, sounding like nothing so much as an old married couple. Married.
The news had reached Cartagena the morning they shipped out: New York State had legalized gay marriage. New York, the final destination Jack had picked a few days previously, circling Manhattan on his map of the U.S. Eastern Seaboard. If he was completely honest with himself, Ianto could trace his seasickness to the message from Martha that had followed - just five words, but they twisted in Ianto's gut - Do I hear wedding bells?
They were already married, or as good as. Did they really need rings and paperwork? Neither one had much in the way of property or valuables. Ianto had already planned on broaching the idea of a civil partnership to Jack, for things like hospital visits (which they had way too many of) and division of assets (though he couldn't see Gwen fighting with Jack over his record collection, which had been languishing in storage for the past two years). But marriage…
Ianto hadn't thought of marriage in relation to him since Lisa had died. That had been his shot, and it was finished. Only now he could be a husband, and Jack could be a husband to him. Jack was technically a resident of New York, working abroad. And after fire and death, beatings and recoveries, kidnappings and reunions, they could give their union the most sacred of symbolic gestures.
Jack hadn't mentioned it. Five days of sailing, and nothing about what could await them in New York.
Ianto leaned over the side of the bunk and dry-heaved.
"I was going to see if you wanted some tasty crackers," Jack said from the doorway, "but something's telling me you'd say no."
Ianto grunted in reply and wiped his mouth.
"You should drink some Gatorade," Jack said critically. "Replace some of what you've lost."
"Brilliant, Jack. Did you find us some Gatorade, in Colombia, and pack it?"
"Nope." Jack didn't even look embarrassed. "Packing is your forte."
Ianto stared at him for a long moment. "You're unbelievable," he said at last. "This is my fault now?" His voice was rising in pitch. He hated how that made him sound.
"Come on, Ianto! You know I didn't mean anything by it!"
Of course he hadn't. When Jack wanted to cut you to the bone, he didn't hold back. Any other time, though, he just didn't mean it. And today it made Ianto irrationally angry. He lay back in his bunk, threw an arm over his eyes and counted to ten in his head.
"Uh, Ianto?"
"I'm calming down, Jack."
"I know a great way to calm you down."
Ianto sighed. He didn't even bother to monitor his word choice anymore, not after all this time with Jack. Why bother? Jack could make the most innocuous statement an innuendo.
"I'm not interested in your method. I'm vomiting all the time, remember?"
"You're not vomiting right now."
Ianto felt a hand touch his foot, and grudgingly had to admire Jack's tenacity. Though Jack had gone almost a week without getting laid, so part of that was just general horniness.
"You're going to burn your fish," Ianto said.
"You're more important than a fish."
"I should bloody well hope so."
"Hey, I was being romantic there. You should be swooning."
"I'm already lying down." The hand was caressing his ankle. It felt…nice. "You can keep doing that."
Another hand joined the first one, gently kneeding the calf muscles in his bad leg. Jack knew just how to touch him there. He won a lot of arguments with leg massages. It was hardly fair. But it did feel good. Ianto couldn't prevent his lips from curving up, or the slight purring noise that rumbled in his chest.
"Ianto?" Jack whispered.
"Mmmunfffff."
"I'll do all the work."
Jack's hands were now at the hem of Ianto's board shorts, a ridiculous purchase that Jack had made in Cartagena when Ianto was hungover, and which Ianto was only ever going to wear on the boat, with no other witnesses around. Jack was wearing linen trousers that should have looked ridiculous, but didn't on him. It figured.
"I don't know," Ianto hedged. He was actually getting a little bit interested. He'd daydreamed the scenario enough times, after all - him and Jack, sailing off into the sunset together. And of course there would be lots of sex.
"Whatever you want, dear," Jack said in that sing-song voice he used when he was up to something. His fingers slid under the shorts, up and up to squeeze Ianto's thighs.
"Ooof. Take these damn things off me if you're going to keep doing that," Ianto commanded, and Jack leapt to obey. Jack could be malleable, if the situation called for it, of course. Ianto's stupid board shorts were soon tossed onto the deck, and Jack was maneuvering Ianto's legs, trying to squeeze himself into a kneeling position in between them. Ianto had to choke back a laugh when Jack banged his elbow on the sloped wall of the boat.
"I'm going to forgive your mocking little chuckle, but only because you went commando," Jack muttered.
Ianto rolled his eyes. He'd dispensed with the underwear because he hadn't wanted to try washing any onboard the boat. He'd save his few pairs for when they were back in sight of land. Jack gave him an appreciative leer, leaned down, and sucked the head of his not-very-hard cock into his mouth.
There were certain things Ianto had not taken into account when having his daydream of sailing with Jack. One had been the seasickness. And another was the fact that the entire structure that contained them was always moving - forwards, yes, but also up and down. Sometimes rather unexpectedly. A vicious wave pushed him up and in, shoving his cock into the side of Jack's cheek and bringing him into way too close of contact with Jack's shiny American teeth. Which were sharp.
Ianto yelped in pain, Jack choked and fell off the bunk, grasping for purchase and accidentally hitting Ianto's bad leg in the process. Ianto's spit-slick cock fell with an undignified little plop against his thigh, mainly flaccid. Ianto was surprised it wasn't bleeding from Jack's teeth, but he could barely spare it a thought as pain lanced up his bum leg and took his breath away.
"Ianto!" Jack scrambled to his feet as the boat slowly righted itself.
"Don't mind me," Ianto said through grit teeth. "You just almost bit my cock off." His leg throbbed with pain.
"That was clearly my plan. Much easier to walk around with your cock in my mouth all day if I've separated it from your body." Ianto snorted a laugh, and Jack grinned, laying a hand gently on his leg. "I'm sorry about your leg. Can I get you a couple pills?"
He only took them rarely anymore, hadn't taken any since India. The poppy plantation and all that had happened there was a pretty big deterrent to taking any form of drug.
"No. No, just keep doing that."
He settled back against his pillow as Jack continued stroking his leg. Ianto loved Jack's hands. They were a father's hands: large and square, strong and capable, calloused but gentle. The thought disquieted him, fatherhood to marriage to New York. Again.
"On second thought, maybe I will take a pill."
Jack's hand stilled on his leg, loosely circling his calf.
"Okay," he said slowly. "I know I may not be the most observant man, but something is bothering you. Spill."
Ianto rolled his eyes, deflecting from his pounding heart. "Of course there is. You kept pushing for sex, and when we finally tried for it, I almost lost my cock."
"No it's more than that," Jack mused. "You've been irritable, vomiting, picky about your food… Ianto. Are you pregnant?"
Ianto swatted his hand away. "Oh, that's funny, Jack."
Jack grinned at him, but the light didn't touch his eyes. Ianto looked away. There was no way to broach the subject. Ianto knew Jack had been married before, to a woman about one million years ago, or twenty, and it hadn't lasted long. It had ended badly. Of course Jack wouldn't want to go through it again. But still, how much of a coward would Ianto be if he never even mentioned it?
"I talked to Tosh," Jack said suddenly, and Ianto blinked at the non sequitur. "In Cartagena, before we shipped out. She said Donna had asked her about one of her primary school teachers. So, a bit of progress."
Ianto's cheeks colored. Jack had thought he was brooding over what had happened to Donna? If only he was a good enough person to have that be the case.
"You have to know I would never abandon you," Jack continued obliviously. "If you forgot me, I'd wait for you."
He gave Ianto a soppy smile, his eyes partly closed as he leaned in for a kiss. Ianto pushed him back.
"God, Jack, do you want to marry me or not?"
"Huh?" He looked almost comical, blinking wide-eyed like an owl, and Ianto just snapped, everything rushing out.
"I know you love me, I'm not an idiot. You don't make it through the things we've been through and still stay together if you don't love each other. I'm not brooding about that. But you chose New York, you chose it, and you haven't even mentioned marriage. Not once. And yeah, right, that bothers me, I admit it, so are you happy now?"
Jack looked like he'd been hit with a two-by-four. Ianto took a grim satisfaction from it. He almost never lost his cool, never talked for so long without interruption. It was impossible, living with Jack. He'd finally found a way to shut him up.
"I - I hadn't thought about it," Jack said quietly, running a hand through his hair, and something inside Ianto froze and cracked. "I didn't think you would want to, so I just…"
"Why wouldn't I want to, Jack?"
Jack flinched. "You didn't say anything at Gwen's wedding!" he protested.
"It wasn't an option then," Ianto shot back. "Besides, I was drunk!"
"So, what now? You want us to get married?" Jack's voice rose in pitch on his final word.
"Well I don't know, Jack!" Ianto threw his hands in the air. "This is a joint decision. You can't just leave it to me."
"I'm not asking you; I just want to know your opinion!" Jack fired off, and immediately regretted his word choice, if his face was anything to go by.
"You're not asking me to marry you? Right. Glad we got that sorted."
"Ianto!"
"No, no it's fine. Good to know. I'm just going to grab my pillow here and go sleep on deck-"
Jack stopped him by the simple expedient of slamming him back down onto the bunk and thrusting his tongue down Ianto's throat. For such a big man, he was surprisingly light on top of Ianto, always mindful of just how much Ianto could take.
"You should know by now," Jack managed between kisses, rough stubble and slurping lips, "that I'll give you whatever you want. You want to get married?" His fingers dug into Ianto's scalp, causing him to hiss with pain even as his head fell back, exposing his throat. "Then we'll get married." Jack's mouth was on his neck, sucking sloppy kisses down to his collarbone.
"I don't want us to get married just because I said we should!" He pushed Jack's head up, grunting with the effort. He hadn't eaten enough in days, and it was starting to take its toll on him. "I don't even know if I want us to get married."
Jack groaned and sat back on the bunk. It was barely large enough, and Ianto squirmed back against the wall to give them room, sparing a glance for his ugly board shorts, still discarded on the floor. They might be hideous, but he felt horribly exposed without them while in an argument. "I don't get it," Jack said.
"I can't ever say no to you, Jack," Ianto confessed, drawing in a shaky breath. Jack raised an eyebrow.
"But you wanted me to ask you to marry me?"
Ianto looked away. That wasn't it, not really. He was perfectly capable of asking Jack to marry him, after all. He wasn't a five-year-old. He even had a successful proposal under his belt.
"I…I wanted you to want to."
The boat rocked gently from side to side, and gulls cawed overhead. Inside the cabin all was quiet, until Jack cleared his throat.
"I think about you all the time." He moved carefully, slowly up the bunk, stopping when he was straddling Ianto's hips. "Whenever we're apart, all I can think about is how I have to get back to you." He ran his thumb along Ianto's jawline, curled his fingers into the short hairs at the nape of Ianto's neck. "In my mind, we've been married since that day on the Plass, when you said you would come with me."
Ianto kissed him, delicately at first, quickly growing more heated. Jack went with it, melting against him. Dampness pricked at Ianto's eyes, and he blinked it away. This was how they discussed things, at least the important things. Jack didn't shut up except when he let his body do the talking. The rest of it was a smokescreen as often as not. The promises he made with the swipe of his tongue, the press of flesh against flesh, those were the ones he kept.
Ianto's hands slid easily up and under Jack's shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside, breaking the kiss for a moment. Jack swooped in and kissed his neck before helping him out of his shirt. There was a glint in his eyes that Ianto recognized, that caused his heart to beat a little faster and his breath to sound a bit more ragged. Jack gripped him around the waist and pulled, managing to keep them both on the bunk this time, Jack beneath him.
Jack gave a little crow of laughter that changed into a moan when Ianto slid his hands into Jack's pants. He wasn't wearing any underwear, either, and he was already fully hard. He'd probably been ready to go for the past couple of days. Ianto squeezed his cock and Jack bucked up into the touch. Ianto released him to kneel over him and yank his pants down and off before dropping on top of Jack.
"Ianto," Jack breathed against Ianto's cheek, into his mouth as Ianto slipped his tongue inside. Jack's cock was leaking against his stomach as they rutted against each other. Ianto's fingers slicked Jack's pre-come over them both, smearing pre-come along their cocks. Neither of them were going to last long. Jack was hot and heavy in his hand and Ianto's other hand slid in the sweat along Jack's hipbone. Jack was still mumbling into his kisses, obscenities in languages he had picked up along the way, his wide, lust-dark eyes staring into Ianto's.
It was the same as it had always been between them - hot and powerful and overwhelming and theirs.
Jack's eyes slid shut when he came, a gasping groan escaping his lips like it'd been punched out of him. He continued to thrust helplessly up into Ianto's grasp, breathing heavily through the aftershocks. Ianto was so caught up in the noises he made, the sheen of his skin, the feel of his body beneath him that his own orgasm took him by surprise.
"Jack!" he moaned, collapsing on top of him, and Jack's body cradled him, his fingers stroking him through the orgasm until he was wrung dry.
They lay there, pressed together and breathing in time with each other. After a few minutes, Ianto began to mouth along Jack's chest. He tasted of salt - sweat and the sea. He tasted amazing.
"We'll flip a coin," Jack said solemnly. "Heads, we get married in New York. Tails, we don't."
"That seems awfully capricious," Ianto murmured against his chest.
"Did you want to argue about it more?"
"Not particularly." Ianto leaned over the side of the bunk to grab his board shorts, reached into the pocket and pulled out a coin. It was an American quarter, though he'd never been to the States. He refused to think it was a sign. "Ready?"
"One second." Jack's hand closed over his, pressing the quarter into his flesh, as he leaned in and gave Ianto an open-mouthed kiss. His body was slippery and sticky against Ianto's and his breath tasted of fish and wine. The sunlight through the little round window shone in his hair, touching on more than a few silver strands. And when Jack broke the kiss, grinning broadly with his white American teeth, Ianto could clearly see the laugh lines around his eyes.
He was an impossible creature, the most beautiful Ianto had ever seen, and he didn't need the flip of a coin to tell him that.
He flicked the quarter with his thumbnail, sending it spinning through the air, and pulled Jack back down on top of him.
The coin hit the edge of the bunk and careened off, rolling under the bunk and teetering on its edge before falling with a soft 'plink.' But Ianto and Jack were already busy fitting themselves together.
They'd look at the result in the morning.
Author: blue_fjords
Characters/Pairings: Ianto, Jack (Jack/Ianto), w/ mentions of Gwen/Rhys and Tosh/Donna
Rating: NC-17
Word Length: 3,600
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack and Ianto sail off into the sunset.
A/N: idamus really wanted the epilogue to this romance novel, and here it finally is. I had one half-written for over a year. Then New York legalized gay marriage, and I chucked every single word I had written. Special thanks to my posse for listening to me whine about this story for two and a half years. It's finally done! The entire story can be found here.
Water lapped gently at the side of Time Machine and a slight breeze ruffled Ianto's hair and cooled the sweat on his skin. The sun sparkled and danced on the ocean, the salty air smelled fresh and clean, and somewhere overhead, a bird cried. It was absolutely perfect. Or would have been, had Ianto not been suffering from seasickness.
He turned and wretched over the side of the boat for what felt like the hundredth time since they'd left Colombia.
The sailing idea had sounded like an utter lark in Cartagena. Everything sounded good in Cartagena - like a joyous beat had infused the city, some nameless tune that residents and visitors alike couldn't help but sway to as they moved amongst the markets and churches, restaurants and docks. Ianto envied his sister her life there with Rhys from the moment he and Jack had stepped off the plane, but no more so than right at this very moment. Cartagena, after all, did not move.
The wedding had been a blur of wine, as "all the best weddings are" - Jack, murmuring in his ear, pulling him into a dark corner. The sound of the mariachi band, the enthusiastic singing by the other wedding guests mixed with the exuberant cacophony of dozens of other parties in the city center and turned all of Cartagena into one big open-air celebration. Ianto's cries joined the whoops and hollers of hundreds of others when Jack touched him and kissed him.
Half an hour later, Gwen had grinned at their disheveled appearances and made a sly joke to make her brother and priest husband blush. Jack, of course, had roared with laughter, and done her one better with "the one about the bride, the bathtub, and the apple corer." And somehow, that had let into Rhys captaining The Love Boat, which had in turn led to the idea Ianto was currently vomiting over.
"The two of you deserve a nice, relaxing holiday," Gwen had declared. "Why not go sailing? Remember how we used to take that little dinghy out to Flat Holm when we were kids, Ianto?"
The only problem was Cardiff Bay was no wide open ocean. And besides which, Ianto thought dully, wiping his mouth again, since when had his and Jack's little adventures ever gone smoothly?
"Skipper Jones!" Jack's bellow sounded from the rear of the boat. "You will never guess what delicacy your captain has provided to tempt your palate!"
He was even whistling, the cheerful tune growing closer as Jack picked his surefooted way to the starboard railing. Ianto had to grit his teeth against another wave of nausea.
"I daresay it starts with an 'f' and ends with an 'h.'"
"This is a special fish, Ianto!" Jack insisted. He stopped out of arm's reach of Ianto, a fact which was noted by the grey-faced Skipper Jones.
"It's still fish. I'm going to bed."
After five days of his attitude, Jack didn't try to stop him, and Ianto tried not to mind.
It was stuffy in the cabin, hot and close, and Ianto wasn't the least bit tired. It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon, after all. He pulled out his watch to check the time. Well, it was 4 o'clock somewhere. His internal clock was shot to hell, and he was even having difficulty determining what direction they were headed in. It was all that water, playing tricks on him. He toed off his sneakers (Jack went barefoot on the boat), placed them carefully in the bin marked 'non-garbage' bolted to the deck, and flopped onto his bunk.
The bunks were a sore issue. Jack declared them to be authentic. Ianto declared them to be too small for two grown men. To Jack, that read as a challenge - one that he hadn't been able to meet yet, much to his frustration, but Ianto had no intention of combining vomit and sex.
He could hear Jack moving around topdeck, probably cleaning and gutting the fish, then setting up their little grill. If Ianto was lucky, he'd keep down some flatbread later. He was beginning to loath the stuff.
A couple of seagulls called loudly to each other outside the porthole, sounding like nothing so much as an old married couple. Married.
The news had reached Cartagena the morning they shipped out: New York State had legalized gay marriage. New York, the final destination Jack had picked a few days previously, circling Manhattan on his map of the U.S. Eastern Seaboard. If he was completely honest with himself, Ianto could trace his seasickness to the message from Martha that had followed - just five words, but they twisted in Ianto's gut - Do I hear wedding bells?
They were already married, or as good as. Did they really need rings and paperwork? Neither one had much in the way of property or valuables. Ianto had already planned on broaching the idea of a civil partnership to Jack, for things like hospital visits (which they had way too many of) and division of assets (though he couldn't see Gwen fighting with Jack over his record collection, which had been languishing in storage for the past two years). But marriage…
Ianto hadn't thought of marriage in relation to him since Lisa had died. That had been his shot, and it was finished. Only now he could be a husband, and Jack could be a husband to him. Jack was technically a resident of New York, working abroad. And after fire and death, beatings and recoveries, kidnappings and reunions, they could give their union the most sacred of symbolic gestures.
Jack hadn't mentioned it. Five days of sailing, and nothing about what could await them in New York.
Ianto leaned over the side of the bunk and dry-heaved.
"I was going to see if you wanted some tasty crackers," Jack said from the doorway, "but something's telling me you'd say no."
Ianto grunted in reply and wiped his mouth.
"You should drink some Gatorade," Jack said critically. "Replace some of what you've lost."
"Brilliant, Jack. Did you find us some Gatorade, in Colombia, and pack it?"
"Nope." Jack didn't even look embarrassed. "Packing is your forte."
Ianto stared at him for a long moment. "You're unbelievable," he said at last. "This is my fault now?" His voice was rising in pitch. He hated how that made him sound.
"Come on, Ianto! You know I didn't mean anything by it!"
Of course he hadn't. When Jack wanted to cut you to the bone, he didn't hold back. Any other time, though, he just didn't mean it. And today it made Ianto irrationally angry. He lay back in his bunk, threw an arm over his eyes and counted to ten in his head.
"Uh, Ianto?"
"I'm calming down, Jack."
"I know a great way to calm you down."
Ianto sighed. He didn't even bother to monitor his word choice anymore, not after all this time with Jack. Why bother? Jack could make the most innocuous statement an innuendo.
"I'm not interested in your method. I'm vomiting all the time, remember?"
"You're not vomiting right now."
Ianto felt a hand touch his foot, and grudgingly had to admire Jack's tenacity. Though Jack had gone almost a week without getting laid, so part of that was just general horniness.
"You're going to burn your fish," Ianto said.
"You're more important than a fish."
"I should bloody well hope so."
"Hey, I was being romantic there. You should be swooning."
"I'm already lying down." The hand was caressing his ankle. It felt…nice. "You can keep doing that."
Another hand joined the first one, gently kneeding the calf muscles in his bad leg. Jack knew just how to touch him there. He won a lot of arguments with leg massages. It was hardly fair. But it did feel good. Ianto couldn't prevent his lips from curving up, or the slight purring noise that rumbled in his chest.
"Ianto?" Jack whispered.
"Mmmunfffff."
"I'll do all the work."
Jack's hands were now at the hem of Ianto's board shorts, a ridiculous purchase that Jack had made in Cartagena when Ianto was hungover, and which Ianto was only ever going to wear on the boat, with no other witnesses around. Jack was wearing linen trousers that should have looked ridiculous, but didn't on him. It figured.
"I don't know," Ianto hedged. He was actually getting a little bit interested. He'd daydreamed the scenario enough times, after all - him and Jack, sailing off into the sunset together. And of course there would be lots of sex.
"Whatever you want, dear," Jack said in that sing-song voice he used when he was up to something. His fingers slid under the shorts, up and up to squeeze Ianto's thighs.
"Ooof. Take these damn things off me if you're going to keep doing that," Ianto commanded, and Jack leapt to obey. Jack could be malleable, if the situation called for it, of course. Ianto's stupid board shorts were soon tossed onto the deck, and Jack was maneuvering Ianto's legs, trying to squeeze himself into a kneeling position in between them. Ianto had to choke back a laugh when Jack banged his elbow on the sloped wall of the boat.
"I'm going to forgive your mocking little chuckle, but only because you went commando," Jack muttered.
Ianto rolled his eyes. He'd dispensed with the underwear because he hadn't wanted to try washing any onboard the boat. He'd save his few pairs for when they were back in sight of land. Jack gave him an appreciative leer, leaned down, and sucked the head of his not-very-hard cock into his mouth.
There were certain things Ianto had not taken into account when having his daydream of sailing with Jack. One had been the seasickness. And another was the fact that the entire structure that contained them was always moving - forwards, yes, but also up and down. Sometimes rather unexpectedly. A vicious wave pushed him up and in, shoving his cock into the side of Jack's cheek and bringing him into way too close of contact with Jack's shiny American teeth. Which were sharp.
Ianto yelped in pain, Jack choked and fell off the bunk, grasping for purchase and accidentally hitting Ianto's bad leg in the process. Ianto's spit-slick cock fell with an undignified little plop against his thigh, mainly flaccid. Ianto was surprised it wasn't bleeding from Jack's teeth, but he could barely spare it a thought as pain lanced up his bum leg and took his breath away.
"Ianto!" Jack scrambled to his feet as the boat slowly righted itself.
"Don't mind me," Ianto said through grit teeth. "You just almost bit my cock off." His leg throbbed with pain.
"That was clearly my plan. Much easier to walk around with your cock in my mouth all day if I've separated it from your body." Ianto snorted a laugh, and Jack grinned, laying a hand gently on his leg. "I'm sorry about your leg. Can I get you a couple pills?"
He only took them rarely anymore, hadn't taken any since India. The poppy plantation and all that had happened there was a pretty big deterrent to taking any form of drug.
"No. No, just keep doing that."
He settled back against his pillow as Jack continued stroking his leg. Ianto loved Jack's hands. They were a father's hands: large and square, strong and capable, calloused but gentle. The thought disquieted him, fatherhood to marriage to New York. Again.
"On second thought, maybe I will take a pill."
Jack's hand stilled on his leg, loosely circling his calf.
"Okay," he said slowly. "I know I may not be the most observant man, but something is bothering you. Spill."
Ianto rolled his eyes, deflecting from his pounding heart. "Of course there is. You kept pushing for sex, and when we finally tried for it, I almost lost my cock."
"No it's more than that," Jack mused. "You've been irritable, vomiting, picky about your food… Ianto. Are you pregnant?"
Ianto swatted his hand away. "Oh, that's funny, Jack."
Jack grinned at him, but the light didn't touch his eyes. Ianto looked away. There was no way to broach the subject. Ianto knew Jack had been married before, to a woman about one million years ago, or twenty, and it hadn't lasted long. It had ended badly. Of course Jack wouldn't want to go through it again. But still, how much of a coward would Ianto be if he never even mentioned it?
"I talked to Tosh," Jack said suddenly, and Ianto blinked at the non sequitur. "In Cartagena, before we shipped out. She said Donna had asked her about one of her primary school teachers. So, a bit of progress."
Ianto's cheeks colored. Jack had thought he was brooding over what had happened to Donna? If only he was a good enough person to have that be the case.
"You have to know I would never abandon you," Jack continued obliviously. "If you forgot me, I'd wait for you."
He gave Ianto a soppy smile, his eyes partly closed as he leaned in for a kiss. Ianto pushed him back.
"God, Jack, do you want to marry me or not?"
"Huh?" He looked almost comical, blinking wide-eyed like an owl, and Ianto just snapped, everything rushing out.
"I know you love me, I'm not an idiot. You don't make it through the things we've been through and still stay together if you don't love each other. I'm not brooding about that. But you chose New York, you chose it, and you haven't even mentioned marriage. Not once. And yeah, right, that bothers me, I admit it, so are you happy now?"
Jack looked like he'd been hit with a two-by-four. Ianto took a grim satisfaction from it. He almost never lost his cool, never talked for so long without interruption. It was impossible, living with Jack. He'd finally found a way to shut him up.
"I - I hadn't thought about it," Jack said quietly, running a hand through his hair, and something inside Ianto froze and cracked. "I didn't think you would want to, so I just…"
"Why wouldn't I want to, Jack?"
Jack flinched. "You didn't say anything at Gwen's wedding!" he protested.
"It wasn't an option then," Ianto shot back. "Besides, I was drunk!"
"So, what now? You want us to get married?" Jack's voice rose in pitch on his final word.
"Well I don't know, Jack!" Ianto threw his hands in the air. "This is a joint decision. You can't just leave it to me."
"I'm not asking you; I just want to know your opinion!" Jack fired off, and immediately regretted his word choice, if his face was anything to go by.
"You're not asking me to marry you? Right. Glad we got that sorted."
"Ianto!"
"No, no it's fine. Good to know. I'm just going to grab my pillow here and go sleep on deck-"
Jack stopped him by the simple expedient of slamming him back down onto the bunk and thrusting his tongue down Ianto's throat. For such a big man, he was surprisingly light on top of Ianto, always mindful of just how much Ianto could take.
"You should know by now," Jack managed between kisses, rough stubble and slurping lips, "that I'll give you whatever you want. You want to get married?" His fingers dug into Ianto's scalp, causing him to hiss with pain even as his head fell back, exposing his throat. "Then we'll get married." Jack's mouth was on his neck, sucking sloppy kisses down to his collarbone.
"I don't want us to get married just because I said we should!" He pushed Jack's head up, grunting with the effort. He hadn't eaten enough in days, and it was starting to take its toll on him. "I don't even know if I want us to get married."
Jack groaned and sat back on the bunk. It was barely large enough, and Ianto squirmed back against the wall to give them room, sparing a glance for his ugly board shorts, still discarded on the floor. They might be hideous, but he felt horribly exposed without them while in an argument. "I don't get it," Jack said.
"I can't ever say no to you, Jack," Ianto confessed, drawing in a shaky breath. Jack raised an eyebrow.
"But you wanted me to ask you to marry me?"
Ianto looked away. That wasn't it, not really. He was perfectly capable of asking Jack to marry him, after all. He wasn't a five-year-old. He even had a successful proposal under his belt.
"I…I wanted you to want to."
The boat rocked gently from side to side, and gulls cawed overhead. Inside the cabin all was quiet, until Jack cleared his throat.
"I think about you all the time." He moved carefully, slowly up the bunk, stopping when he was straddling Ianto's hips. "Whenever we're apart, all I can think about is how I have to get back to you." He ran his thumb along Ianto's jawline, curled his fingers into the short hairs at the nape of Ianto's neck. "In my mind, we've been married since that day on the Plass, when you said you would come with me."
Ianto kissed him, delicately at first, quickly growing more heated. Jack went with it, melting against him. Dampness pricked at Ianto's eyes, and he blinked it away. This was how they discussed things, at least the important things. Jack didn't shut up except when he let his body do the talking. The rest of it was a smokescreen as often as not. The promises he made with the swipe of his tongue, the press of flesh against flesh, those were the ones he kept.
Ianto's hands slid easily up and under Jack's shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside, breaking the kiss for a moment. Jack swooped in and kissed his neck before helping him out of his shirt. There was a glint in his eyes that Ianto recognized, that caused his heart to beat a little faster and his breath to sound a bit more ragged. Jack gripped him around the waist and pulled, managing to keep them both on the bunk this time, Jack beneath him.
Jack gave a little crow of laughter that changed into a moan when Ianto slid his hands into Jack's pants. He wasn't wearing any underwear, either, and he was already fully hard. He'd probably been ready to go for the past couple of days. Ianto squeezed his cock and Jack bucked up into the touch. Ianto released him to kneel over him and yank his pants down and off before dropping on top of Jack.
"Ianto," Jack breathed against Ianto's cheek, into his mouth as Ianto slipped his tongue inside. Jack's cock was leaking against his stomach as they rutted against each other. Ianto's fingers slicked Jack's pre-come over them both, smearing pre-come along their cocks. Neither of them were going to last long. Jack was hot and heavy in his hand and Ianto's other hand slid in the sweat along Jack's hipbone. Jack was still mumbling into his kisses, obscenities in languages he had picked up along the way, his wide, lust-dark eyes staring into Ianto's.
It was the same as it had always been between them - hot and powerful and overwhelming and theirs.
Jack's eyes slid shut when he came, a gasping groan escaping his lips like it'd been punched out of him. He continued to thrust helplessly up into Ianto's grasp, breathing heavily through the aftershocks. Ianto was so caught up in the noises he made, the sheen of his skin, the feel of his body beneath him that his own orgasm took him by surprise.
"Jack!" he moaned, collapsing on top of him, and Jack's body cradled him, his fingers stroking him through the orgasm until he was wrung dry.
They lay there, pressed together and breathing in time with each other. After a few minutes, Ianto began to mouth along Jack's chest. He tasted of salt - sweat and the sea. He tasted amazing.
"We'll flip a coin," Jack said solemnly. "Heads, we get married in New York. Tails, we don't."
"That seems awfully capricious," Ianto murmured against his chest.
"Did you want to argue about it more?"
"Not particularly." Ianto leaned over the side of the bunk to grab his board shorts, reached into the pocket and pulled out a coin. It was an American quarter, though he'd never been to the States. He refused to think it was a sign. "Ready?"
"One second." Jack's hand closed over his, pressing the quarter into his flesh, as he leaned in and gave Ianto an open-mouthed kiss. His body was slippery and sticky against Ianto's and his breath tasted of fish and wine. The sunlight through the little round window shone in his hair, touching on more than a few silver strands. And when Jack broke the kiss, grinning broadly with his white American teeth, Ianto could clearly see the laugh lines around his eyes.
He was an impossible creature, the most beautiful Ianto had ever seen, and he didn't need the flip of a coin to tell him that.
He flicked the quarter with his thumbnail, sending it spinning through the air, and pulled Jack back down on top of him.
The coin hit the edge of the bunk and careened off, rolling under the bunk and teetering on its edge before falling with a soft 'plink.' But Ianto and Jack were already busy fitting themselves together.
They'd look at the result in the morning.