Thistle Bomb
Title: Thistle bomb
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: Hard R
Set prior to Cyberwoman. Ianto has pain, PAIN, you guys! And Jack is kind of an asshole. But the pain!
The first time Ianto fucked Jack he wanted to vomit. The night it happened his stomach was filled with thistles. He went into Jack’s office, bringing him coffee and a sandwich, and knowing exactly what he was about to do.
He hadn’t been working for Jack for but a few weeks and already he felt that he was going to fly apart like a shrapnel bomb, killing himself and everyone around him. Sometimes the idea of letting himself go was far too tempting. He kept telling himself that he had to pull himself together, keep his head on straight, so that he could take care of Lisa. She needed him, he promised her; he always kept his promises.
It was becoming more and more difficult to get out of bed. All day long he hid in plain sight, doing what needed to be done - preferably out of the way - and smiled pleasantly when he did happen to meet someone. Fortunately everyone else at Torchwood was far too caught up in their own minds to pay any attention to him; everyone except Jack.
Around Jack he had to try the hardest to present the illusion of taciturn efficiency. His life, and Lisa’s, depended on him making sure that he aroused no suspicion. This meant allowing Jack to flirt with him, as well as flirting back. One of the good things about wooing a man, even a man such as Jack, was that Ianto well knew how to play him. Ianto performed for Jack. He collected everything that drove him wild about Lisa and other women and turned it back on Jack, testing to see what worked and what didn’t. Ianto let Jack catch him looking at him, only to hurriedly turn away. He didn’t have to pretend to be flustered when this happened, though he still wasn’t ready to admit how much he enjoyed watching Jack.
One time Jack was up on the balcony and Ianto, who had taken his jacket off, knelt on the floor to tie his shoe. This action made his shirt pull up a bit in the back. He could see Jack in the reflection of one of the computer monitors, so when he stood up, he ran the back of his hand across his back and down the waistband of his trousers, tucking in his shirt. Later that day, Jack called him into his office to change a light bulb, requiring Ianto to stand in the middle of the room, arms stretched over his head, shirttail pulling free. Jack watched him openly. Ianto didn’t say anything when he discovered, just as he suspected, that the original light bulb had not burned out.
Ianto grew accustomed to the hot shame that washed over him when he acted out for Jack. It was a constant reminder of how desperate he was to save Lisa, or just how desperate he was period. The more Jack looked at him, the less likely he was to go looking anywhere else. Ianto knew that in order to hold Jack’s attention, he was going to have to give up the goods, and soon.
So one night, a couple of days after the light bulb incident, Ianto went into Jack’s office with coffee and a sandwich. He and Jack had barely spoken that day. Jack was in and out of the Hub on various errands, while Ianto had hidden in the tourist office, playing solitaire and psyching himself up for what he was about to do. Right before making the sandwich he took three quick pulls from the flask in his desk. He felt warm, sexy, and nervous as hell.
Ianto lightly knocked on Jack’s door and entered without waiting for a reply. Jack was bent over, writing in a small, leather-bound journal. Ianto stood in front of him, waiting for him to stop writing. After a moment, Jack flipped the book closed and put it in the top right-hand drawer of his desk.
“Hello, Mr. Jones,” Jack’s smile was tired.
“Good evening, sir.” Ianto stepped forward and put the plate on Jack’s desk with a diffident smile. He looked Jack in the eye and nodded his head just a little. It took all of the control in the world to keep from turning on his heel and fleeing the scene. Instead, he smiled warmly and cast his eyes down, only to look back at Jack right away.
This was Hollywood Seduction 101 and Ianto had aced that course. He spent his youth watching old movies with his father; the goddesses of the silver screen taught him how to fall in love: Elizabeth Taylor, of course; Vivien Leigh, Greta Garbo; all the best. He knew how to draw Jack's gaze, keep it focussed on him: a turn of phrase, proper cock of the head and the big man's eye followed him like a homing beacon.
He could flirt like Sandra Dee and fuck like James Dean. He was able to tease, all the while hiding behind the veneer of professionalism. A laugh in the workplace and nothing will come of it, right? He’d bat his eyes at Jack, his face impassive. He would hold himself in such rigid male reserve; then lick his lips like Bardot. This kept Jack on his toes, never knowing what side of Ianto he’d see that day.
“Will there be anything else tonight, sir?” Ianto hoped he didn’t look too much like a bad Princess Diana imitation. Doe eyes didn’t look good on him; he’d tried them in the mirror.
Jack leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. His shirt stretched tight over his chest and arms. Ianto gulped.
“I’m not sure, Ianto. Will there be anything else?” Jack’s eyes were hooded and his voice was a little gravelly.
“It depends on what you need, sir.” Ianto put his hands in his pockets and tipped his head to the side, stretching his neck a little. He’d tried that in the mirror as well. Apparently it worked because Jack smiled and leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk.
“Would you like a drink?” He gestured toward a nearby decanter.
“That would be lovely, sir. Shall I?” Ianto stepped toward the decanter, but before he could get very far, Jack stopped him.
“No, no. You’re my guest. Why don’t you go have a seat on the couch outside and I’ll be right with you.”
For some reason courteous and hospitable wasn’t what he expected from Jack. The man was so quick with a wink and a double-entendre that Ianto was taken aback. He walked out of Jack’s office, over to the couch and sat down, grateful to have a moment or two to collect himself. He glanced over to Jack’s office and saw him climbing up the ladder and out of his rooms.
Jack poured two glasses from the decanter and came over to sit by Ianto, who took the offered glass and raised it, “Cheers.” Jack raised his glass in reply. Ianto hoped Jack didn’t notice that he had belted what was probably some insane legendary alien whiskey, meant to be sipped over generations. The impressive burning in his chest made him exhale sharply.
“Yeah, I should have warned you. It’s a little much to handle the first time around.” Jack swirled his drink.
“Quite,” was all Ianto could say. His voice was tight. He blinked his eyes a few times, nodding to Jack to show that he was all right; the intensity was beginning to subside, leaving behind a pleasant warmth that mixed well with the nips he’d had upstairs.
Jack put his glass down on the coffee table; he hadn’t had but a sip, and leaned back into the couch. He and Ianto sat side by side for a few minutes. Ianto hoped he wasn’t sloppy drunk and just didn’t realize it yet. Finally Jack spoke:
“How was your day? I didn’t see much of you.”
Ianto was taken aback. Once again, Jack was being a complete gentleman and Ianto wasn’t sure of how to react. Ianto had expected to be on his knees by this point, but instead, Jack was asking him how his day was. Stranger still, Ianto was telling him.
Ianto and Jack sat on the couch for nearly two hours, commiserating over simple workplace irritants. Jack hated the way Owen touched the things on his desk when he was in Jack’s office. Earlier in the day, Ianto went to print on letterhead. Tosh had forgotten to take the label paper out of the printer. Ianto had to bite his tongue in order to keep from snapping her head off.
Jack and Ianto had turned and were facing one another on the couch. For just a moment, Ianto had forgotten that his girlfriend was on life support down in the basement. Ianto put his glass down and grabbed Jack’s hand, pulling him over for kisses. Jack pulled back for just a second, surprised, but not unhappy. He smiled, indicating his approval of Ianto’s lead.
Ianto had no idea how long he and Jack lay on the couch kissing. The more Jack kissed him, the more Ianto lost track of reality. He had never kissed a man before. Yes, there were dares in high school and other childish games like that, but kissing Jack was different. Jack was stronger than he was, able to pin him down in the most delightful way. This must be what it’s like to be a girl, always feeling smaller and weaker than their partner. Ianto squirmed beneath Jack, drowning in the loss of control. Ianto didn’t want to have to make any decisions or take care of anyone or think for himself for one single second, and Jack made sure that didn’t happen. Jack would make everything right in the end. Only he wouldn’t. In the end, Ianto will have betrayed Jack and may very well end up dead.
Every time Jack paused Ianto grabbed his head and pulling him back in. He couldn’t think about how Jack had the power to erase him, nor could he imagine the look on Jack’s face when he finally realized that their entire relationship was based on deception. In fact, Ianto had absolutely no vision of what the future would bring. He never once considered what would happen when Lisa got better. Nor was he able to fathom what would happen when Jack found out. And Jack would find out, Ianto had no doubt about that. The question was when, and how fast could Ianto get Lisa downgraded.
Finally Jack pulled back and looked at Ianto. They were both blue in the lights of the monitors. Jack’s hand was beneath Ianto’s shirt, idly pulling at the hair in his pits. When Jack looked at him, Ianto didn’t hesitate; he put his hand on Jack’s chest, pushing him away. “Let’s go,” he said. Ianto was shocked when his voice didn’t break. Jack nodded: Yes.
When they got to Jack’s quarters, Ianto was pretended like he’d never seen it before. Truth was, he’d gone down there the very first time Jack had to go to London overnight. Ianto hadn’t rifled through his drawers or anything. He just looked at everything very closely, trying to get an idea of who his Captain was. It didn’t work; he was just as clueless as he’d ever been, of not more so. What had Jack been doing down here right before he met Ianto on the couch? Ianto scanned for evidence, but found none.
When Jack offered him another drink, Ianto accepted before he finished speaking. Jack either didn’t notice or he chose to ignore Ianto’s charming apprehension. Once again Ianto belted his drink.
“Are you good yet?” Jack asked. “Is your Dutch courage full up?” Jack’s eyes were more than a little patronizing. “If you’re not careful you’re going to get what we in the RAF called liquor dick.” He had definitely noticed. Ianto smiled sheepishly, letting Jack know that he had hit the nail on the head.
Ianto wasn’t that drunk, the adrenaline coursing through him overpowered all other sensations. He pulled his jacket off, making sure to stretch his arms wide to show off his chest. For a moment he toyed with the idea of handing his jacket to Jack and asking him to find him a hanger, just to see the look on his face. Instead he draped it over the foot of the bed and turned back to Jack. Ianto had chosen this particular dark blue suit because the waistcoat was a trifle too small, for Ianto tended toward eating in times of great stress. But, like everything else in his life, Ianto managed an iron control over how much he allowed himself to indulge, so rather than looking like a sausage squeezed into a waistcoat, he instead filled out his costume splendidly.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that, sir?” Ianto’s voice was calm as he pressed his hand against the front of his trousers, pushing his erection out so that Jack could see. Jack liked his lips. Ianto reached up to unbutton his vest, but Jack quickly reached out and stopped him, taking over the task himself. They looked at one another while Ianto stretched and flexed his hands, barely wiggling his fingers in anticipation. Just as Jack finished the last button, Ianto leaned into him, sliding his hands underneath Jack’s braces. All thoughts of Lisa vanished into the ether. Jack was all there was. Which is why Ianto didn’t mind at all when Jack put his hand on Ianto’s shoulder and pushed him to his knees.
Jack had unfastened his belt, but he made it clear that he wanted Ianto to finish the job. Ianto gulped again and set to work, no longer even bothering to stop his hands from shaking.
Jack reached and ran his fingers through the front of Ianto’s hair, his thumb rubbing small circles on his forehead. Instinctively Ianto looked up and saw Jack smiling at him in a way that Ianto didn’t entirely trust. Or maybe it was the other way around.
Ianto got Jack’s pants down, and then ran his hands lightly up Jack’s thighs. He had been on his knees for less than a minute. Obviously Ianto was terrified, but he honestly knew that Jack wasn’t going hurt him physically; he wasn’t inviting Jack to rape him. In the end Ianto was certain that he was about to board the Good Ship Harkness and Heaven knows where it would take him. Still, the anticipation was always the worst part. The longer he knelt there looking at Jack’s enormous cock, the more he lost his nerve.
Finally he opened his mouth. When he looked up he saw Jack pushing his dick down with his thumb, guiding it to Ianto, who kept his eyes open. He started out resting his hands on Jack’s feet, and then gradually climbed up his legs, coming to rest right below Jack’s ass. There were a couple of false starts. Ianto’s mouth was dry, and then he couldn’t find the rhythm. Jack slowed him down and told him to relax. All Ianto could do was nod.
After a drink of water and some more kissing from Jack, Ianto was ready to try again. This time Jack sat on his bed, back against the wall. Ianto found this to be far more comfortable.
It wasn’t long before Ianto realized that giving head was very much like dancing and right now he was walking backwards in high heels. But Jack was Fred to his Ginger, taking him in hand and holding his face just right so as to make them both feel the best. Jack talked to him, telling him how to use his hands and fingers. Ianto was a quick study and soon took the lead. Sprawled out on the bed, Jack was a matinee idol. Ianto was about to suck the dicks of Montgomery Clift, Tab Hunter, Rudolph Valentino, and John Wayne all rolled into one. He could not believe his fate.
Ianto’s dick was hard in his pants and his chin was covered in drool. At that moment, nothing else existed in the world. From the noises Jack was making and the way his hand was firm on the back of his neck, Ianto knew that he was doing it right. Jack tasted like salt. Ianto wondered if Jack’s come would taste different than his own. He didn’t get to find out, at least not then. He pressed his hand against his dick and emitted a low whimpery hum in the back of his throat. This made Jack gasp and put his hands on Ianto’s shoulders, pushing him away so that he knelt next to the bed.
“Wow,” said Jack. “I’m impressed.”
Ianto wiped the drool off of his face with the back of his hand. “Thank you, sir.” Jack’s dick still looked huge. Ianto had no idea how he got it all in his mouth. When he thought of Jack’s dick in his ass, it made his stomach clench up.
Jack pulled Ianto onto the bed and kissed him some more while unbuttoning his shirt and trousers. Ianto’s mind clicked through a slideshow of the past few weeks. Jack in the warehouse; Jack coming down the lift; Jack winking at him on his way out of the tourist office. Every so often images of Lisa would pop up like subliminal messages, reminding him the real reason he was here. But those blips came further and further apart. When Jack put his mouth on Ianto’s dick, they stopped altogether. Jack was not tentative or gentle like the girls he’d been with; he was hot and he sucked hard in a way that Ianto never knew he liked. He loved the way Jack’s hands held him in place.
Since lasting was pretty much out of the question, Ianto rode Jack’s mouth like a quarter-horse. Jack didn’t seem to mind. After Ianto shot, Jack rested on his elbow with his other hand firm on Ianto’s dick, pulling every last shock out of him. “I like the way the head of your cock gets bright red right before you come.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ianto felt like he had been standing in the middle of a thunderstorm: Somewhat battered and bruised, jittering with aftershocks.
“Do you want more?” Jack’s voice was calm and quiet. Ianto could see Jack working his own cock in and out of his fist. The head was so dark and wet. It would have looked ghoulish had Ianto not so vividly remembered how it felt in his throat. Thinking about that and the bleachy taste on his tongue made Ianto open his mouth involuntarily.
“Yes, I do.” The vibrations in Ianto’s body were beginning to subside.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Jack was beautiful. “Now turn over.”
Ianto did as he was told. He buried his face in Jack’s stiff pillow and tried not to cry. He hated himself for wanting this so badly. When he felt Jack’s tongue on his ass, Ianto tried to think of Lisa. But all he could see was himself walking around the dark room and unplugging all of the machines; turning her ventilator off and walking away. It would be so easy. He wouldn’t even have to remove her body from the Hub. If nobody knew about the room now, then he or someone else could come across it some day. She’d be dead and it would be just another Torchwood mystery.
Jack grabbed Ianto’s ass and pulled it wide open, licking him and making him feel defenseless. Ianto whimpered a little. The way Jack licked him gave Ianto no choice but to open up to him completely. Jack was easily able to slide two fingers in and whispered to himself when Ianto cried out.
Jack got up on his knees behind Ianto, wrapping his arm around Ianto’s chest. Ianto braced himself to take Jack’s weight. Jack’s dick was flat up against his slippery ass, sliding back and forth in a way that made Ianto’s breath catch in his throat. Jack’s mouth was right by his ear. “Are you my brave boy, Ianto?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “You feel so good on me, Jack.” Ianto flinched when he used Jack’s proper name, but Jack only held him tighter.
Jack’s dick felt huge in Ianto’s ass. Jack said “Breathe,” and stroked his back over and over, until he was eventually in. Then it hurt in a way that made Ianto rock back into Jack, making his desires clear. Jack picked up on this immediately and was happy to comply.
Ianto knew he wasn’t going to come again and, while Jack felt amazing, he wasn’t up for an all-nighter. So when Jack started fucking harder, getting a little erratic, Ianto arched his back and wiggled his ass just like Lisa did when she wanted him to pop fast. It did the trick, because Jack came right away; taking deep breaths and trying to push himself into Ianto even deeper.
Ianto braced himself to take Jack’s weight once again, but Jack rolled to the side instead, one arm thrown over his eyes. Ianto stretched out next to Jack, wincing a little, knowing he’d be sore the next day. He wanted to grab his clothes and get out of there as fast as he could, but his arms and legs didn’t recognize the signals his brain was sending.
He lay there for a while before he realized that Jack was asleep. Only then was he able to slide off the bed, gather his clothes, and climb out of Jack’s quarters. It didn’t matter that he was nude and that climbing a ladder with a bundle under one arm was quite difficult. All he could think about was getting away from there and taking a shower. He didn’t even check on Lisa, he just pulled on his clothes and left the Hub.
When he got home, Ianto did vomit. All of the alcohol and nerves finally caught up to him. As he retched over the toilet, he couldn’t help but think that it was Jack’s come he was throwing up. Funny, it didn’t look any different.
Once it was all out and the dry heaves had passed, Ianto pressed himself into the space between the toilet and the bathtub and cried. He didn’t know how much longer he could live this life. Lisa wasn’t going to get better. He knew that, he had known that all along. And now he’d fucked his boss, who had fallen asleep immediately afterward. It never happened that way in the movies, except it did and Ianto knew that. All he had managed to do was earn himself a bad reputation. Nothing good ever came of girls with a bad reputation.
Tomorrow he would face Jack and Jack would see him as trash to be swept away. That is if he saw him at all. Some day, maybe soon, Jack would invite Ianto to have another drink with him, and Ianto knew that he would say yes. Jack drew him like the true north and now that he had stepped over the line, there was no going back.
Ianto felt like he was full of sickness and infection and Jack was the only one who could punish Ianto for the things he’s done. Ianto knew full well how fucking Jack would make him feel and he did it on purpose, just to feel that pain like broken glass on his skin, in his mouth and in his ass.
Ianto’s cries had subsided into a low moaning noise, like he was relieving pressure inside of him. He pushed on his eyes and saw stars, wondering if he had the power to pluck them out, tear himself apart. No worry, Jack would do that for him. If not Jack, then Lisa. With that Ianto realized that even though he had created this colossal shit storm, everything was out of his hands. All he could do was wait until it was all over. Then, if he was still alive, start again.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: Hard R
Set prior to Cyberwoman. Ianto has pain, PAIN, you guys! And Jack is kind of an asshole. But the pain!
The first time Ianto fucked Jack he wanted to vomit. The night it happened his stomach was filled with thistles. He went into Jack’s office, bringing him coffee and a sandwich, and knowing exactly what he was about to do.
He hadn’t been working for Jack for but a few weeks and already he felt that he was going to fly apart like a shrapnel bomb, killing himself and everyone around him. Sometimes the idea of letting himself go was far too tempting. He kept telling himself that he had to pull himself together, keep his head on straight, so that he could take care of Lisa. She needed him, he promised her; he always kept his promises.
It was becoming more and more difficult to get out of bed. All day long he hid in plain sight, doing what needed to be done - preferably out of the way - and smiled pleasantly when he did happen to meet someone. Fortunately everyone else at Torchwood was far too caught up in their own minds to pay any attention to him; everyone except Jack.
Around Jack he had to try the hardest to present the illusion of taciturn efficiency. His life, and Lisa’s, depended on him making sure that he aroused no suspicion. This meant allowing Jack to flirt with him, as well as flirting back. One of the good things about wooing a man, even a man such as Jack, was that Ianto well knew how to play him. Ianto performed for Jack. He collected everything that drove him wild about Lisa and other women and turned it back on Jack, testing to see what worked and what didn’t. Ianto let Jack catch him looking at him, only to hurriedly turn away. He didn’t have to pretend to be flustered when this happened, though he still wasn’t ready to admit how much he enjoyed watching Jack.
One time Jack was up on the balcony and Ianto, who had taken his jacket off, knelt on the floor to tie his shoe. This action made his shirt pull up a bit in the back. He could see Jack in the reflection of one of the computer monitors, so when he stood up, he ran the back of his hand across his back and down the waistband of his trousers, tucking in his shirt. Later that day, Jack called him into his office to change a light bulb, requiring Ianto to stand in the middle of the room, arms stretched over his head, shirttail pulling free. Jack watched him openly. Ianto didn’t say anything when he discovered, just as he suspected, that the original light bulb had not burned out.
Ianto grew accustomed to the hot shame that washed over him when he acted out for Jack. It was a constant reminder of how desperate he was to save Lisa, or just how desperate he was period. The more Jack looked at him, the less likely he was to go looking anywhere else. Ianto knew that in order to hold Jack’s attention, he was going to have to give up the goods, and soon.
So one night, a couple of days after the light bulb incident, Ianto went into Jack’s office with coffee and a sandwich. He and Jack had barely spoken that day. Jack was in and out of the Hub on various errands, while Ianto had hidden in the tourist office, playing solitaire and psyching himself up for what he was about to do. Right before making the sandwich he took three quick pulls from the flask in his desk. He felt warm, sexy, and nervous as hell.
Ianto lightly knocked on Jack’s door and entered without waiting for a reply. Jack was bent over, writing in a small, leather-bound journal. Ianto stood in front of him, waiting for him to stop writing. After a moment, Jack flipped the book closed and put it in the top right-hand drawer of his desk.
“Hello, Mr. Jones,” Jack’s smile was tired.
“Good evening, sir.” Ianto stepped forward and put the plate on Jack’s desk with a diffident smile. He looked Jack in the eye and nodded his head just a little. It took all of the control in the world to keep from turning on his heel and fleeing the scene. Instead, he smiled warmly and cast his eyes down, only to look back at Jack right away.
This was Hollywood Seduction 101 and Ianto had aced that course. He spent his youth watching old movies with his father; the goddesses of the silver screen taught him how to fall in love: Elizabeth Taylor, of course; Vivien Leigh, Greta Garbo; all the best. He knew how to draw Jack's gaze, keep it focussed on him: a turn of phrase, proper cock of the head and the big man's eye followed him like a homing beacon.
He could flirt like Sandra Dee and fuck like James Dean. He was able to tease, all the while hiding behind the veneer of professionalism. A laugh in the workplace and nothing will come of it, right? He’d bat his eyes at Jack, his face impassive. He would hold himself in such rigid male reserve; then lick his lips like Bardot. This kept Jack on his toes, never knowing what side of Ianto he’d see that day.
“Will there be anything else tonight, sir?” Ianto hoped he didn’t look too much like a bad Princess Diana imitation. Doe eyes didn’t look good on him; he’d tried them in the mirror.
Jack leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. His shirt stretched tight over his chest and arms. Ianto gulped.
“I’m not sure, Ianto. Will there be anything else?” Jack’s eyes were hooded and his voice was a little gravelly.
“It depends on what you need, sir.” Ianto put his hands in his pockets and tipped his head to the side, stretching his neck a little. He’d tried that in the mirror as well. Apparently it worked because Jack smiled and leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk.
“Would you like a drink?” He gestured toward a nearby decanter.
“That would be lovely, sir. Shall I?” Ianto stepped toward the decanter, but before he could get very far, Jack stopped him.
“No, no. You’re my guest. Why don’t you go have a seat on the couch outside and I’ll be right with you.”
For some reason courteous and hospitable wasn’t what he expected from Jack. The man was so quick with a wink and a double-entendre that Ianto was taken aback. He walked out of Jack’s office, over to the couch and sat down, grateful to have a moment or two to collect himself. He glanced over to Jack’s office and saw him climbing up the ladder and out of his rooms.
Jack poured two glasses from the decanter and came over to sit by Ianto, who took the offered glass and raised it, “Cheers.” Jack raised his glass in reply. Ianto hoped Jack didn’t notice that he had belted what was probably some insane legendary alien whiskey, meant to be sipped over generations. The impressive burning in his chest made him exhale sharply.
“Yeah, I should have warned you. It’s a little much to handle the first time around.” Jack swirled his drink.
“Quite,” was all Ianto could say. His voice was tight. He blinked his eyes a few times, nodding to Jack to show that he was all right; the intensity was beginning to subside, leaving behind a pleasant warmth that mixed well with the nips he’d had upstairs.
Jack put his glass down on the coffee table; he hadn’t had but a sip, and leaned back into the couch. He and Ianto sat side by side for a few minutes. Ianto hoped he wasn’t sloppy drunk and just didn’t realize it yet. Finally Jack spoke:
“How was your day? I didn’t see much of you.”
Ianto was taken aback. Once again, Jack was being a complete gentleman and Ianto wasn’t sure of how to react. Ianto had expected to be on his knees by this point, but instead, Jack was asking him how his day was. Stranger still, Ianto was telling him.
Ianto and Jack sat on the couch for nearly two hours, commiserating over simple workplace irritants. Jack hated the way Owen touched the things on his desk when he was in Jack’s office. Earlier in the day, Ianto went to print on letterhead. Tosh had forgotten to take the label paper out of the printer. Ianto had to bite his tongue in order to keep from snapping her head off.
Jack and Ianto had turned and were facing one another on the couch. For just a moment, Ianto had forgotten that his girlfriend was on life support down in the basement. Ianto put his glass down and grabbed Jack’s hand, pulling him over for kisses. Jack pulled back for just a second, surprised, but not unhappy. He smiled, indicating his approval of Ianto’s lead.
Ianto had no idea how long he and Jack lay on the couch kissing. The more Jack kissed him, the more Ianto lost track of reality. He had never kissed a man before. Yes, there were dares in high school and other childish games like that, but kissing Jack was different. Jack was stronger than he was, able to pin him down in the most delightful way. This must be what it’s like to be a girl, always feeling smaller and weaker than their partner. Ianto squirmed beneath Jack, drowning in the loss of control. Ianto didn’t want to have to make any decisions or take care of anyone or think for himself for one single second, and Jack made sure that didn’t happen. Jack would make everything right in the end. Only he wouldn’t. In the end, Ianto will have betrayed Jack and may very well end up dead.
Every time Jack paused Ianto grabbed his head and pulling him back in. He couldn’t think about how Jack had the power to erase him, nor could he imagine the look on Jack’s face when he finally realized that their entire relationship was based on deception. In fact, Ianto had absolutely no vision of what the future would bring. He never once considered what would happen when Lisa got better. Nor was he able to fathom what would happen when Jack found out. And Jack would find out, Ianto had no doubt about that. The question was when, and how fast could Ianto get Lisa downgraded.
Finally Jack pulled back and looked at Ianto. They were both blue in the lights of the monitors. Jack’s hand was beneath Ianto’s shirt, idly pulling at the hair in his pits. When Jack looked at him, Ianto didn’t hesitate; he put his hand on Jack’s chest, pushing him away. “Let’s go,” he said. Ianto was shocked when his voice didn’t break. Jack nodded: Yes.
When they got to Jack’s quarters, Ianto was pretended like he’d never seen it before. Truth was, he’d gone down there the very first time Jack had to go to London overnight. Ianto hadn’t rifled through his drawers or anything. He just looked at everything very closely, trying to get an idea of who his Captain was. It didn’t work; he was just as clueless as he’d ever been, of not more so. What had Jack been doing down here right before he met Ianto on the couch? Ianto scanned for evidence, but found none.
When Jack offered him another drink, Ianto accepted before he finished speaking. Jack either didn’t notice or he chose to ignore Ianto’s charming apprehension. Once again Ianto belted his drink.
“Are you good yet?” Jack asked. “Is your Dutch courage full up?” Jack’s eyes were more than a little patronizing. “If you’re not careful you’re going to get what we in the RAF called liquor dick.” He had definitely noticed. Ianto smiled sheepishly, letting Jack know that he had hit the nail on the head.
Ianto wasn’t that drunk, the adrenaline coursing through him overpowered all other sensations. He pulled his jacket off, making sure to stretch his arms wide to show off his chest. For a moment he toyed with the idea of handing his jacket to Jack and asking him to find him a hanger, just to see the look on his face. Instead he draped it over the foot of the bed and turned back to Jack. Ianto had chosen this particular dark blue suit because the waistcoat was a trifle too small, for Ianto tended toward eating in times of great stress. But, like everything else in his life, Ianto managed an iron control over how much he allowed himself to indulge, so rather than looking like a sausage squeezed into a waistcoat, he instead filled out his costume splendidly.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that, sir?” Ianto’s voice was calm as he pressed his hand against the front of his trousers, pushing his erection out so that Jack could see. Jack liked his lips. Ianto reached up to unbutton his vest, but Jack quickly reached out and stopped him, taking over the task himself. They looked at one another while Ianto stretched and flexed his hands, barely wiggling his fingers in anticipation. Just as Jack finished the last button, Ianto leaned into him, sliding his hands underneath Jack’s braces. All thoughts of Lisa vanished into the ether. Jack was all there was. Which is why Ianto didn’t mind at all when Jack put his hand on Ianto’s shoulder and pushed him to his knees.
Jack had unfastened his belt, but he made it clear that he wanted Ianto to finish the job. Ianto gulped again and set to work, no longer even bothering to stop his hands from shaking.
Jack reached and ran his fingers through the front of Ianto’s hair, his thumb rubbing small circles on his forehead. Instinctively Ianto looked up and saw Jack smiling at him in a way that Ianto didn’t entirely trust. Or maybe it was the other way around.
Ianto got Jack’s pants down, and then ran his hands lightly up Jack’s thighs. He had been on his knees for less than a minute. Obviously Ianto was terrified, but he honestly knew that Jack wasn’t going hurt him physically; he wasn’t inviting Jack to rape him. In the end Ianto was certain that he was about to board the Good Ship Harkness and Heaven knows where it would take him. Still, the anticipation was always the worst part. The longer he knelt there looking at Jack’s enormous cock, the more he lost his nerve.
Finally he opened his mouth. When he looked up he saw Jack pushing his dick down with his thumb, guiding it to Ianto, who kept his eyes open. He started out resting his hands on Jack’s feet, and then gradually climbed up his legs, coming to rest right below Jack’s ass. There were a couple of false starts. Ianto’s mouth was dry, and then he couldn’t find the rhythm. Jack slowed him down and told him to relax. All Ianto could do was nod.
After a drink of water and some more kissing from Jack, Ianto was ready to try again. This time Jack sat on his bed, back against the wall. Ianto found this to be far more comfortable.
It wasn’t long before Ianto realized that giving head was very much like dancing and right now he was walking backwards in high heels. But Jack was Fred to his Ginger, taking him in hand and holding his face just right so as to make them both feel the best. Jack talked to him, telling him how to use his hands and fingers. Ianto was a quick study and soon took the lead. Sprawled out on the bed, Jack was a matinee idol. Ianto was about to suck the dicks of Montgomery Clift, Tab Hunter, Rudolph Valentino, and John Wayne all rolled into one. He could not believe his fate.
Ianto’s dick was hard in his pants and his chin was covered in drool. At that moment, nothing else existed in the world. From the noises Jack was making and the way his hand was firm on the back of his neck, Ianto knew that he was doing it right. Jack tasted like salt. Ianto wondered if Jack’s come would taste different than his own. He didn’t get to find out, at least not then. He pressed his hand against his dick and emitted a low whimpery hum in the back of his throat. This made Jack gasp and put his hands on Ianto’s shoulders, pushing him away so that he knelt next to the bed.
“Wow,” said Jack. “I’m impressed.”
Ianto wiped the drool off of his face with the back of his hand. “Thank you, sir.” Jack’s dick still looked huge. Ianto had no idea how he got it all in his mouth. When he thought of Jack’s dick in his ass, it made his stomach clench up.
Jack pulled Ianto onto the bed and kissed him some more while unbuttoning his shirt and trousers. Ianto’s mind clicked through a slideshow of the past few weeks. Jack in the warehouse; Jack coming down the lift; Jack winking at him on his way out of the tourist office. Every so often images of Lisa would pop up like subliminal messages, reminding him the real reason he was here. But those blips came further and further apart. When Jack put his mouth on Ianto’s dick, they stopped altogether. Jack was not tentative or gentle like the girls he’d been with; he was hot and he sucked hard in a way that Ianto never knew he liked. He loved the way Jack’s hands held him in place.
Since lasting was pretty much out of the question, Ianto rode Jack’s mouth like a quarter-horse. Jack didn’t seem to mind. After Ianto shot, Jack rested on his elbow with his other hand firm on Ianto’s dick, pulling every last shock out of him. “I like the way the head of your cock gets bright red right before you come.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ianto felt like he had been standing in the middle of a thunderstorm: Somewhat battered and bruised, jittering with aftershocks.
“Do you want more?” Jack’s voice was calm and quiet. Ianto could see Jack working his own cock in and out of his fist. The head was so dark and wet. It would have looked ghoulish had Ianto not so vividly remembered how it felt in his throat. Thinking about that and the bleachy taste on his tongue made Ianto open his mouth involuntarily.
“Yes, I do.” The vibrations in Ianto’s body were beginning to subside.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Jack was beautiful. “Now turn over.”
Ianto did as he was told. He buried his face in Jack’s stiff pillow and tried not to cry. He hated himself for wanting this so badly. When he felt Jack’s tongue on his ass, Ianto tried to think of Lisa. But all he could see was himself walking around the dark room and unplugging all of the machines; turning her ventilator off and walking away. It would be so easy. He wouldn’t even have to remove her body from the Hub. If nobody knew about the room now, then he or someone else could come across it some day. She’d be dead and it would be just another Torchwood mystery.
Jack grabbed Ianto’s ass and pulled it wide open, licking him and making him feel defenseless. Ianto whimpered a little. The way Jack licked him gave Ianto no choice but to open up to him completely. Jack was easily able to slide two fingers in and whispered to himself when Ianto cried out.
Jack got up on his knees behind Ianto, wrapping his arm around Ianto’s chest. Ianto braced himself to take Jack’s weight. Jack’s dick was flat up against his slippery ass, sliding back and forth in a way that made Ianto’s breath catch in his throat. Jack’s mouth was right by his ear. “Are you my brave boy, Ianto?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “You feel so good on me, Jack.” Ianto flinched when he used Jack’s proper name, but Jack only held him tighter.
Jack’s dick felt huge in Ianto’s ass. Jack said “Breathe,” and stroked his back over and over, until he was eventually in. Then it hurt in a way that made Ianto rock back into Jack, making his desires clear. Jack picked up on this immediately and was happy to comply.
Ianto knew he wasn’t going to come again and, while Jack felt amazing, he wasn’t up for an all-nighter. So when Jack started fucking harder, getting a little erratic, Ianto arched his back and wiggled his ass just like Lisa did when she wanted him to pop fast. It did the trick, because Jack came right away; taking deep breaths and trying to push himself into Ianto even deeper.
Ianto braced himself to take Jack’s weight once again, but Jack rolled to the side instead, one arm thrown over his eyes. Ianto stretched out next to Jack, wincing a little, knowing he’d be sore the next day. He wanted to grab his clothes and get out of there as fast as he could, but his arms and legs didn’t recognize the signals his brain was sending.
He lay there for a while before he realized that Jack was asleep. Only then was he able to slide off the bed, gather his clothes, and climb out of Jack’s quarters. It didn’t matter that he was nude and that climbing a ladder with a bundle under one arm was quite difficult. All he could think about was getting away from there and taking a shower. He didn’t even check on Lisa, he just pulled on his clothes and left the Hub.
When he got home, Ianto did vomit. All of the alcohol and nerves finally caught up to him. As he retched over the toilet, he couldn’t help but think that it was Jack’s come he was throwing up. Funny, it didn’t look any different.
Once it was all out and the dry heaves had passed, Ianto pressed himself into the space between the toilet and the bathtub and cried. He didn’t know how much longer he could live this life. Lisa wasn’t going to get better. He knew that, he had known that all along. And now he’d fucked his boss, who had fallen asleep immediately afterward. It never happened that way in the movies, except it did and Ianto knew that. All he had managed to do was earn himself a bad reputation. Nothing good ever came of girls with a bad reputation.
Tomorrow he would face Jack and Jack would see him as trash to be swept away. That is if he saw him at all. Some day, maybe soon, Jack would invite Ianto to have another drink with him, and Ianto knew that he would say yes. Jack drew him like the true north and now that he had stepped over the line, there was no going back.
Ianto felt like he was full of sickness and infection and Jack was the only one who could punish Ianto for the things he’s done. Ianto knew full well how fucking Jack would make him feel and he did it on purpose, just to feel that pain like broken glass on his skin, in his mouth and in his ass.
Ianto’s cries had subsided into a low moaning noise, like he was relieving pressure inside of him. He pushed on his eyes and saw stars, wondering if he had the power to pluck them out, tear himself apart. No worry, Jack would do that for him. If not Jack, then Lisa. With that Ianto realized that even though he had created this colossal shit storm, everything was out of his hands. All he could do was wait until it was all over. Then, if he was still alive, start again.