Midnight Meetings of the Lonely Hearts Club (2/3)
Half an hour in, the Doctor hasn’t made a single sound. Not so much as a whimper. Jack is beginning to worry that he’s going to lose the bet.
His lack of success so far is a bit baffling. Jack, after all, has a century and a half of knowledge at his disposal, and Ianto is a surprisingly creative lover (for a human born in the 20th century). Tonight, they’re both in rare form, working slowly and patiently to drive their victim over the edge. Jack decided to use one of the tried-and-true methods that’s always worked for him before: light feathery touches, giving way to light feathery kisses everywhere except where it matters. If I were him Jack thinks, as he moves up the Doctor’s body, I’d have shorted out all my brain cells with begging by now. But the Doctor remains stubbornly quiet. Jack wants to shake him. Come on, Doctor, we all know you’re not immune. Ianto and I have seen you come, remember? Hell, we’ve made you come. So beg me for the good stuff already! He decides to ignore how perilously close to begging his mental voice has gotten over the course of the last half hour. They’re going to need a new tactic.
Ianto is currently licking the underside of the Doctor’s cock while Jack teases the corner of his mouth. He moves to his neck, just underneath the jaw, watching the Doctor’s face carefully as he nips the skin lightly, his fingers brushing over the Doctor’s left nipple (a spot that in past nights yielded some particularly interesting results. Tonight, so far, no matter what Jack does to it-and he’s done quite a bit-the Doctor stays silent). Suddenly, to Jack’s surprise, the Doctor thrusts his head back into the pillow and lets out a barely audible little squeak. Jack’s eyebrows shoot up and he glances down at Ianto.
He’s blowing on the head of the Doctor’s cock. Jack catches his eye and counts down 3..2..1 with his fingers. They both lick and blow simultaneously, Ianto on the Doctor’s cock and Jack on that left nipple. The Doctor lets out a moan, and Jack feels a thrill of triumph.
It’s not enough to win the bet, though. For that, Jack is starting to think he’s going to need some fancy moves. And perhaps an orgasm. The Timelord may have impressive stamina and willpower, but Jack is only human (if immortal) and he’s starting to feel the effects of a half an hour of painfully slow lovemaking. The Doctor is not the only one who’s been affected by the prolonged teasing. Jack is definitely feeling it, and judging by the occasional jerkiness of Ianto’s movements, he is too. They’ll have to find a way to come before the Doctor, just to get the need out of the way.
And that sparks an idea in Jack’s mind. He gives the Doctor one last kiss (placed directly over his mouth, but far too light to be satisfying) and stands up, laying a hand on Ianto’s shoulder.
Ianto follows his lead and stands up a moment later, after a brief parting suck that leaves the Doctor moaning as if he’s been hit with a Xaan taser. They step away from the bed together and the Doctor makes a little noise in the back of his throat. For a moment, Jack forgets himself, his vision full of the Doctor, panting and searching pathetically for their bodies as best he can with his hands and feet tied. Jack waits for about 5 breaths, thinking maybe just leaving him alone will be enough now, but the Doctor never says anything more clear than a moan. He definitely never says “please.”
When Jack’s had enough waiting (god, he feels like he’s been waiting a couple centuries for this), he leans over to whisper a new plan into Ianto’s ear. Ianto shudders with arousal and out of the corner of his eye, Jack can see the Doctor straining to hear what’s being said. He’s beginning to forget himself, and that’s always the first step to brilliant, mind-blowing sex with the Doctor. Every time they do this together, Jack waits for that moment where the Doctor unleashes all his carefully suppressed animal urges. Jack craves the sound of moans that are purely instinctual, that aren’t calculated or pre-motivated. He absolutely needs that instant where the Doctor finally lets himself fall out of his brain and into his body. It isn’t easy for him the way it is for Jack or Ianto. Timelords seem to lack that sexual instinct that humanity thrives on (and perhaps that’s why humans always survive). For the Doctor, it’s always a long, hard struggle. Tonight, it’s been longer and harder than usual, and Jack is really starting to get frustrated.
Ianto kneels at the head of the bed, his knees straddling the Doctor’s head, right thigh just barely brushing the Doctor’s corresponding tied arm. That’s quite a picture, and Jack allows himself one more moment to admire the way Ianto’s eyes darken when the Doctor strains for him, but can’t quite reach.
The bed shifts when jack climbs onto it, settling on all fours above the Doctor, his mouth millimeters from Ianto’s crotch. He inhales once, then swallows his cock whole. Ianto lets out a loud, pornographic moan (Jack suspects it’s louder than usual for the Doctor’s benefit.) Jack sets to his task with a will, finally able to apply the pressure and pleasure he’s been just aching to give all night. The one problem with teasing someone is that you end up teasing yourself too, and Jack’s never been big on self-denial.
Ianto is perilously close to coming in a distressingly short amount of time. Jack sucks him down, hollowing out his cheeks and making obscene noises while beneath him the Doctor is panting and literally biting his lip, hopefully to keep the “please fuck me” from slipping out. Just a little longer Jack thinks, thinking he may just come on the spot the moment the Doctor says “please.”
“Jack” Ianto moans above him, and Jack slips a finger into his ass, moving it in and out as he moves his mouth up and down. There’s lube on the bedside table, and in another heartbeat, he’s got two fingers slicked and hooking inside Ianto, pressing just there, while at the same time taking him deep into his throat. His senses are full of Ianto: his smell, the feel of his hips beginning to thrust uncontrollably, his thighs shaking with effort, the litany of low grunts he always devolves to when he’s close to coming. A little more suction, a tongue trick he learned back in his time-agent days, and one little nudge of that fabulous gland deep in Ianto’s beautiful ass, and Ianto comes, moaning his name. (And even now, he can tell Ianto’s still performing for the Doctor, as if to say this could be you)
Jack helps Ianto to the edge of the bed, letting him sit for a moment to catch his breath. His own need is rather urgent now, however, and he’s insanely glad when Ianto kneels on all fours exactly where Jack was before, waving his lubed ass in Jack’s face in an inexcusably teasing way. Jack growls, squeezing it roughly. He takes his place, and without further ado, sinks deep inside letting out a completely spontaneous long, low moan at the feel of it. When he’s in to the hilt he sighs thinking, God yes, this is what I’ve been waiting for all fucking night. From the way Ianto laughs, he thinks he may have said it out loud. But then he begins to thrust, and Ianto stops laughing, starts to ride him. This is another one of Ianto’s unexpected talents. The man really knows how to be fucked.
Jack leans forward and he can feel Ianto’s body beneath him, but it’s the Doctor he focuses on. He’s right there, so close he can feel the Doctor’s breath on his face. Jack reaches for the blindfold, tugging it roughly off and chucking it away across the room. He watches with satisfaction as the Doctor’s eyes fly open, and his whole body goes completely still. He’s wide-eyed and his breath is shallow and quick. Jack thrusts into Ianto, but he’s capativated by the Doctor, and as his thrusts quicken and deepen, he hears Ianto’s moans and pleas (more, God Jack, deeperdeeperohyes) as if they were spilling out of the Doctor’s mouth. When he comes, he feels like something has exploded inside him, deep inside his belly. Ianto collapses to the side, taking Jack with him and as Jack flops down, cock still buried in Ianto’s ass, he runs a hand up the Doctor’s body, almost without thinking. His fingers brush the Doctor’s neck, his lips, his cheekbone, brush past his temple on the way to…
It isn’t as if the bed disappears, as if the floor suddenly opens and they fall or fly into oblivion. It isn’t as if the room suddenly changes or fades away. It is simply, not there. Jack can’t tell whether it has just happened or whether it was always this way. The only beings in the universe are the Doctor and Ianto and they are nowhere and it is so loud.