Restoration (9/10)
Title: Restoration (9/10)
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Doctor, Martha, Rhys, Rhiannon
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: CoE
Summary: My response to the horrors of series 3.
Wow, last but one chapter. I can hardly believe it! Anyway, thanks for the response on the last chapter, hope you enjoy this one :-) Had some fun with the bond
Another week has passed. Ianto is preparing himself to be asked to dispose of Dunn’s body any day now. Between an increasingly hormonal Gwen, Jack’s anger and his own irritation he doesn’t think she’ll survive much longer. Luckily for her, though, nearly two weeks after she first arrived, she has been called back to UNIT. She leaves without ceremony, taking the reports and three artifacts that she had ‘discovered’ and confiscated with her. Unfortunately, that won’t be the last of it.
‘You will continue regularly submitting reports,’ she tells them, ‘and expect to be regularly inspected. Permanently installing a UNIT operative is currently under consideration, so don’t get too complacent.’
Ianto blinks, not quite able to believe that UNIT would take things so far. The rest of the world is furious with Britain, and UNIT is representing that world - the British sector is getting very little weight these days, so they can’t expect any help there - but the idea that they would so blatantly try to take over is shocking. A quick glance tells him that Jack is furious, and Gwen looks as stunned as he feels.
‘Get out,’ Jack spits, quietly enough that Ianto is immediately alerted to his dangerous mood. ‘I mean it. We’ve co-operated so far. Be happy with that, and get out.’
She must see how angry they are, because she makes no response, just turning sharply on her heel and striding through the door. There is a momentary feeling of suspense and then Gwen slumps into her chair with a sigh. ‘At least she’s gone for the time being.’
‘We need to get this sorted,’ says Jack. ‘The point of Torchwood is to avoid outside influence. Politics! God.’
Ianto shrugs. ‘Keep them as uninvolved as possible until the Hub’s rebuilt and tell them to fuck off.’ He generally avoids crudeness, but in this instance he would positively encourage Jack to use that exact phrasing. He hasn’t enjoyed being at Dunn’s beck and call, even with the little revenges he’s been taking.
‘It’ll make things difficult.’
‘So? Ianto has a point, Jack. UNIT has to right or authority to be doing this, not really. The only reason we’ve been going along with it is because right now we need their resources.’
‘I’d hoped to get them off our backs a bit sooner than that, but so long as we keep them in the dark as best we can I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Annoying though.’
‘You’ll survive,’ says Ianto drily.
‘Glad that’s sorted. God, I thought I was going to shoot her at one point!’
‘There would have been a queue,’ he tells her.
She laughs and shakes her head. ‘Well, she’s gone, so lets not think about her. How do you two fancy having dinner with me and Rhys next week?’
‘Sounds nice. Yan?’
‘Seems good to me,’ he agrees.
Break
They leave early that day, as a kind of celebration of the fact that Dunn is gone. Ianto is looking forward to dinner with Gwen next week. He didn’t used to be too keen on Gwen - her disloyalty to Rhys during the first few months after joining Torchwood had not recommended her, and then, as his own relationship with Jack deepened he had feared that Jack might be more interested in her than in him. Jealousy is not a pleasant emotion. However, that had eased once she was married, and he found himself liking her. They had become much closer after the deaths of Owen and Tosh, inevitably, and although he didn’t always agree with her they had a good friendship.
Tonight, though, it is just him and Jack, and he is perfectly happy with that arrangement. Perfectly happy at least until Jack suggests doing some work on the bond.
‘I don’t - what sort of work?’
‘You remember your psychic training?’
‘A bit. I only ever really bothered with the shields.’ In a way he regrets that. Empathy is an undoubtedly useful skill, and it seems wasteful in hindsight to have passed by on the opportunity to learn more about using it. He can shield well enough, and ignore what gets through, but aside from occasionally focusing so that he gets more of an idea how people are feeling he has never bothered trying to use or develop the talent.
‘Well, this’ll be a bit different. Remember how you work to build and test and manipulate your shields? Doing something similar to try and sense the link. I’ll be doing the same.’
Taking a breath, Ianto gathers himself, closing his eyes and trying to mentally feel. The shields are the same as ever, but as he skims over them he sense something else, something new. He concentrates, blocking out all distractions, and pushes a little harder. A link. Yes, some kind of psychic tendril, made up of not just his own signature but Jack’s too. It feels - pleasant, and comfortable. Curious, he pushes his consciousness along it, aware of Jack’s emotions - ease, curiosity, a little wonder - and then suddenly it overwhelms him. For a split second it’s like he is Jack, or maybe more that Jack’s self has merged with him almost entirely, wrapping around him, twining through him, and it’s the most intimate thing he’s ever experienced. He gasps, and his concentration’s shot, and suddenly he’s back in himself. It should feel lonely, and he does feel a little bereft, but he can feel Jack at the edge of his consciousness.
Jack is staring at him, breathing quickly, and then he grins, something wide and heartfelt. ‘Wow. That was - wow.’
Ianto can only nod his agreement, incapable of putting the experience into words and not sure he wants to. Then, without warning, Jack is kissing him, tongue plunging into his mouth, one hand rising to grip his hair, and god Ianto loves this, never wants to be without it. He pushes, backing Jack against the wall, hands roaming across each other’s. He opens his mouth to say something, but as he does Jack’s mind brushes lightly across his own and all that he can manage is a breathless, half-strangled, ‘Shit!’
He’s not having that though, and as soon as he’s capable of doing more than letting Jack kiss him he surges forward, pressing him against the wall and attacking his neck, focusing on the spot that always makes Jack’s knees go weak before turning his attentions to nibbling and licking at his ear.
If he thought he could concentrate enough he would attempt to return the psychic caress, but he knows he won’t manage it and instead focuses on creating as much physical pleasure for Jack as he possibly can. Somehow, they manage to get their trousers undone, and Jack’s shirt is half hanging off him. It’s not quite skin on skin, but it’s close enough, pressing and grinding into close contact that sends pleasure and heat sparkling through oversensitised nerves. They come together, hard, feeding off each other’s pleasure and arousal, and it takes a couple of minutes to come down from it enough that they can think or speak.
They end up in bed, wrapped around each other and kissing languidly. Ianto doesn’t doubt that it will lead to more, not after what they just experienced, but for now they are content to kiss and stroke, slow and lazy, and he realises this must be what true contentment feels like.
‘I think I like the bond,’ he comments, voice a little rougher than usual.
Jack smiles at him. ‘I think I agree. And god knows we don’t know everything about it - or much of anything for that matter. Can’t wait to find out more.’
Ianto wholeheartedly agrees with this, and tries to ignore the feel of Jack’s fingers tracing lazy, tantalising patterns on his back as he focuses on the link and his empathy, attempting to recreate Jack’s mental touch. If Jack’s reaction is anything to judge by, he succeeds.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Doctor, Martha, Rhys, Rhiannon
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: CoE
Summary: My response to the horrors of series 3.
Wow, last but one chapter. I can hardly believe it! Anyway, thanks for the response on the last chapter, hope you enjoy this one :-) Had some fun with the bond
Another week has passed. Ianto is preparing himself to be asked to dispose of Dunn’s body any day now. Between an increasingly hormonal Gwen, Jack’s anger and his own irritation he doesn’t think she’ll survive much longer. Luckily for her, though, nearly two weeks after she first arrived, she has been called back to UNIT. She leaves without ceremony, taking the reports and three artifacts that she had ‘discovered’ and confiscated with her. Unfortunately, that won’t be the last of it.
‘You will continue regularly submitting reports,’ she tells them, ‘and expect to be regularly inspected. Permanently installing a UNIT operative is currently under consideration, so don’t get too complacent.’
Ianto blinks, not quite able to believe that UNIT would take things so far. The rest of the world is furious with Britain, and UNIT is representing that world - the British sector is getting very little weight these days, so they can’t expect any help there - but the idea that they would so blatantly try to take over is shocking. A quick glance tells him that Jack is furious, and Gwen looks as stunned as he feels.
‘Get out,’ Jack spits, quietly enough that Ianto is immediately alerted to his dangerous mood. ‘I mean it. We’ve co-operated so far. Be happy with that, and get out.’
She must see how angry they are, because she makes no response, just turning sharply on her heel and striding through the door. There is a momentary feeling of suspense and then Gwen slumps into her chair with a sigh. ‘At least she’s gone for the time being.’
‘We need to get this sorted,’ says Jack. ‘The point of Torchwood is to avoid outside influence. Politics! God.’
Ianto shrugs. ‘Keep them as uninvolved as possible until the Hub’s rebuilt and tell them to fuck off.’ He generally avoids crudeness, but in this instance he would positively encourage Jack to use that exact phrasing. He hasn’t enjoyed being at Dunn’s beck and call, even with the little revenges he’s been taking.
‘It’ll make things difficult.’
‘So? Ianto has a point, Jack. UNIT has to right or authority to be doing this, not really. The only reason we’ve been going along with it is because right now we need their resources.’
‘I’d hoped to get them off our backs a bit sooner than that, but so long as we keep them in the dark as best we can I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Annoying though.’
‘You’ll survive,’ says Ianto drily.
‘Glad that’s sorted. God, I thought I was going to shoot her at one point!’
‘There would have been a queue,’ he tells her.
She laughs and shakes her head. ‘Well, she’s gone, so lets not think about her. How do you two fancy having dinner with me and Rhys next week?’
‘Sounds nice. Yan?’
‘Seems good to me,’ he agrees.
Break
They leave early that day, as a kind of celebration of the fact that Dunn is gone. Ianto is looking forward to dinner with Gwen next week. He didn’t used to be too keen on Gwen - her disloyalty to Rhys during the first few months after joining Torchwood had not recommended her, and then, as his own relationship with Jack deepened he had feared that Jack might be more interested in her than in him. Jealousy is not a pleasant emotion. However, that had eased once she was married, and he found himself liking her. They had become much closer after the deaths of Owen and Tosh, inevitably, and although he didn’t always agree with her they had a good friendship.
Tonight, though, it is just him and Jack, and he is perfectly happy with that arrangement. Perfectly happy at least until Jack suggests doing some work on the bond.
‘I don’t - what sort of work?’
‘You remember your psychic training?’
‘A bit. I only ever really bothered with the shields.’ In a way he regrets that. Empathy is an undoubtedly useful skill, and it seems wasteful in hindsight to have passed by on the opportunity to learn more about using it. He can shield well enough, and ignore what gets through, but aside from occasionally focusing so that he gets more of an idea how people are feeling he has never bothered trying to use or develop the talent.
‘Well, this’ll be a bit different. Remember how you work to build and test and manipulate your shields? Doing something similar to try and sense the link. I’ll be doing the same.’
Taking a breath, Ianto gathers himself, closing his eyes and trying to mentally feel. The shields are the same as ever, but as he skims over them he sense something else, something new. He concentrates, blocking out all distractions, and pushes a little harder. A link. Yes, some kind of psychic tendril, made up of not just his own signature but Jack’s too. It feels - pleasant, and comfortable. Curious, he pushes his consciousness along it, aware of Jack’s emotions - ease, curiosity, a little wonder - and then suddenly it overwhelms him. For a split second it’s like he is Jack, or maybe more that Jack’s self has merged with him almost entirely, wrapping around him, twining through him, and it’s the most intimate thing he’s ever experienced. He gasps, and his concentration’s shot, and suddenly he’s back in himself. It should feel lonely, and he does feel a little bereft, but he can feel Jack at the edge of his consciousness.
Jack is staring at him, breathing quickly, and then he grins, something wide and heartfelt. ‘Wow. That was - wow.’
Ianto can only nod his agreement, incapable of putting the experience into words and not sure he wants to. Then, without warning, Jack is kissing him, tongue plunging into his mouth, one hand rising to grip his hair, and god Ianto loves this, never wants to be without it. He pushes, backing Jack against the wall, hands roaming across each other’s. He opens his mouth to say something, but as he does Jack’s mind brushes lightly across his own and all that he can manage is a breathless, half-strangled, ‘Shit!’
He’s not having that though, and as soon as he’s capable of doing more than letting Jack kiss him he surges forward, pressing him against the wall and attacking his neck, focusing on the spot that always makes Jack’s knees go weak before turning his attentions to nibbling and licking at his ear.
If he thought he could concentrate enough he would attempt to return the psychic caress, but he knows he won’t manage it and instead focuses on creating as much physical pleasure for Jack as he possibly can. Somehow, they manage to get their trousers undone, and Jack’s shirt is half hanging off him. It’s not quite skin on skin, but it’s close enough, pressing and grinding into close contact that sends pleasure and heat sparkling through oversensitised nerves. They come together, hard, feeding off each other’s pleasure and arousal, and it takes a couple of minutes to come down from it enough that they can think or speak.
They end up in bed, wrapped around each other and kissing languidly. Ianto doesn’t doubt that it will lead to more, not after what they just experienced, but for now they are content to kiss and stroke, slow and lazy, and he realises this must be what true contentment feels like.
‘I think I like the bond,’ he comments, voice a little rougher than usual.
Jack smiles at him. ‘I think I agree. And god knows we don’t know everything about it - or much of anything for that matter. Can’t wait to find out more.’
Ianto wholeheartedly agrees with this, and tries to ignore the feel of Jack’s fingers tracing lazy, tantalising patterns on his back as he focuses on the link and his empathy, attempting to recreate Jack’s mental touch. If Jack’s reaction is anything to judge by, he succeeds.