Darts of Pleasure
Title: Darts of Pleasure
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17 for porn. Porn, porn, porn. Oh, and an artistically naughty prompt image.
Notes/Summary: In which clean things are soiled, and the windows are open. Written for the July 23 prompt at horizonssing.
It was a warm enough night that Ianto could leave his windows open. The breeze felt good on his bare skin as he stretched out on his bed, enjoying the smell and texture of fresh linens. He stroked lightly at his own chest and flexed his feet and sprawled across the mattress with a satisfied sigh. He felt good tonight.
“Wow,” Jack murmured as he entered, freshly showered and smelling faintly of Ianto’s shower gel. His still-damp hair stuck up at amusing angles that made him look younger, though not quite Ianto’s age.
With a chuckle Ianto shifted up onto his elbows and licked his lips. “Someone likes what he sees, sounds like.”
Jack tossed his towel over the foot of the bed and joined him on the sheets. His eyes flicked down between his own legs and then back to Ianto. “You think?”
Ianto reached out to stroke the inside of Jack’s thigh, then brushed his fingers along Jack’s already hardening cock. “I think I can cite a growing body of evidence on the matter.”
“I don’t think that’s what it wants,” Jack said, and closed his eyes as Ianto continued to stroke him lightly, balls to tip.
“Oh?” He let his fingers close around Jack’s shaft and gave it a squeeze. “What does it want?”
“It wants -“ Jack started, and then tilted his head to the side as he looked Ianto over. “Turn over. Hands and knees. You can rest your head on your arms if you want.”
Ianto raised his eyebrows and did as he was told, rolling onto his stomach and then lifting his ass into the air. He gave it a bit of a wiggle as Jack got situated between his legs, and Jack responded with a playful swat.
“Spankings already?” Ianto grinned into the pillow. “Have I been bad?”
“Hush, you,” Jack told him, and ran a finger lightly between Ianto’s cheeks.
As silencing tactics went, it was surprisingly effective.
Jack nuzzled Ianto’s ass, trailing kisses and little bites across the skin as his hands glided up Ianto’s pale thighs to grip his hips. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
The sensation of Jack’s tongue slipping between his cheeks sent darts of pleasure through Ianto’s entire body. He gasped and tried to arch up into it, but Jack held him in place and teased, flicking lightly with the very tip of his tongue.
“Unfair,” Ianto said and whimpered into the bedding.
“Tell me you want more,” Jack purred as he circled Ianto’s opening with a fingertip.
“More. Oh please. More.”
He watched a little dazedly as Jack reached over to open the bedside drawer, and waited patiently for the snap of the lube cap. Jack nibbled him while he slicked up his fingers, and Ianto dug his fists into the sheets.
Jack’s fingers slid in easily, and Ianto made a little keening noise as he moved to ride them. This time Jack let him squirm, guiding him with that same hand on his left hip, pressing in deeper at Ianto’s urging. “You like that, don’t you?” Jack asked with a warm chuckle as he added a third finger.
Ianto just moaned, dimly aware of the way Jack had started trembling and rubbing up against him with his cock. Ianto reached back with his left hand and gripped it, tugging gently and sliding it between his legs.
“Oh -“ Jack hissed and trembled as Ianto jerked him and urged him on. “Oh fuck, Ianto, I want -“
Jack squeezed a pool of lube into Ianto’s fingers and rubbed against them, fucking awkwardly into his hand as Ianto stroked and coated him. It was difficult from this angle, but the little noises and whispered oaths Jack made as he worked made Ianto feel like Heaven itself was crashing down around them.
The emptiness as Jack’s hand slid free lasted only the barest moment. Jack pushed in with a single, slow stroke that left both of them shaking. Ianto moved first, pressing against him, then canting his hips to start a smooth rhythm. He propped himself up on his right arm, spat into his lube-sticky palm to renew the slick, and began to stroke himself in time with Jack’s pace.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck -“ Jack chanted above him, punctuating each thrust. He radiated heat, almost burning Ianto’s skin. There was no breath between them that wasn’t ragged. Desperate. Pleading.
With a sound only slightly more triumphant than it was surprised, Ianto came hard over his own fingers and into the bedclothes. “Don’t you fucking stop,” he managed, urging Jack on as he rode out his own orgasm. Jack lasted only a few moments longer, and dug his fingers hard into Ianto’s hips in a bid for anything harder, deeper, more.
They crumpled together into the sheets when Jack finished. They rested there in a panting, tangled heap until Jack rolled onto his back and let out a throaty laugh.
“Something funny?” Ianto asked, shifting onto his own back so he could peek up at Jack’s face.
Jack shook his head and tugged a sheet up over his legs. “Nothing. It’s just that this was all very clean a little bit ago.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Ianto said, shifting a bit to avoid the wet spot where he’d come a few moments before. “There’s probably a lesson in this somewhere. Buggered if I know what it is, though.”
Jack snickered, then yelped when Ianto swatted him.
“I can think of better things for you to do with that hand,” Jack told him, and twined their fingers together with deliberate care.
Ianto smiled, let his head fall back onto the mattress, and closed his eyes.
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17 for porn. Porn, porn, porn. Oh, and an artistically naughty prompt image.
Notes/Summary: In which clean things are soiled, and the windows are open. Written for the July 23 prompt at horizonssing.
It was a warm enough night that Ianto could leave his windows open. The breeze felt good on his bare skin as he stretched out on his bed, enjoying the smell and texture of fresh linens. He stroked lightly at his own chest and flexed his feet and sprawled across the mattress with a satisfied sigh. He felt good tonight.
“Wow,” Jack murmured as he entered, freshly showered and smelling faintly of Ianto’s shower gel. His still-damp hair stuck up at amusing angles that made him look younger, though not quite Ianto’s age.
With a chuckle Ianto shifted up onto his elbows and licked his lips. “Someone likes what he sees, sounds like.”
Jack tossed his towel over the foot of the bed and joined him on the sheets. His eyes flicked down between his own legs and then back to Ianto. “You think?”
Ianto reached out to stroke the inside of Jack’s thigh, then brushed his fingers along Jack’s already hardening cock. “I think I can cite a growing body of evidence on the matter.”
“I don’t think that’s what it wants,” Jack said, and closed his eyes as Ianto continued to stroke him lightly, balls to tip.
“Oh?” He let his fingers close around Jack’s shaft and gave it a squeeze. “What does it want?”
“It wants -“ Jack started, and then tilted his head to the side as he looked Ianto over. “Turn over. Hands and knees. You can rest your head on your arms if you want.”
Ianto raised his eyebrows and did as he was told, rolling onto his stomach and then lifting his ass into the air. He gave it a bit of a wiggle as Jack got situated between his legs, and Jack responded with a playful swat.
“Spankings already?” Ianto grinned into the pillow. “Have I been bad?”
“Hush, you,” Jack told him, and ran a finger lightly between Ianto’s cheeks.
As silencing tactics went, it was surprisingly effective.
Jack nuzzled Ianto’s ass, trailing kisses and little bites across the skin as his hands glided up Ianto’s pale thighs to grip his hips. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
The sensation of Jack’s tongue slipping between his cheeks sent darts of pleasure through Ianto’s entire body. He gasped and tried to arch up into it, but Jack held him in place and teased, flicking lightly with the very tip of his tongue.
“Unfair,” Ianto said and whimpered into the bedding.
“Tell me you want more,” Jack purred as he circled Ianto’s opening with a fingertip.
“More. Oh please. More.”
He watched a little dazedly as Jack reached over to open the bedside drawer, and waited patiently for the snap of the lube cap. Jack nibbled him while he slicked up his fingers, and Ianto dug his fists into the sheets.
Jack’s fingers slid in easily, and Ianto made a little keening noise as he moved to ride them. This time Jack let him squirm, guiding him with that same hand on his left hip, pressing in deeper at Ianto’s urging. “You like that, don’t you?” Jack asked with a warm chuckle as he added a third finger.
Ianto just moaned, dimly aware of the way Jack had started trembling and rubbing up against him with his cock. Ianto reached back with his left hand and gripped it, tugging gently and sliding it between his legs.
“Oh -“ Jack hissed and trembled as Ianto jerked him and urged him on. “Oh fuck, Ianto, I want -“
Jack squeezed a pool of lube into Ianto’s fingers and rubbed against them, fucking awkwardly into his hand as Ianto stroked and coated him. It was difficult from this angle, but the little noises and whispered oaths Jack made as he worked made Ianto feel like Heaven itself was crashing down around them.
The emptiness as Jack’s hand slid free lasted only the barest moment. Jack pushed in with a single, slow stroke that left both of them shaking. Ianto moved first, pressing against him, then canting his hips to start a smooth rhythm. He propped himself up on his right arm, spat into his lube-sticky palm to renew the slick, and began to stroke himself in time with Jack’s pace.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck -“ Jack chanted above him, punctuating each thrust. He radiated heat, almost burning Ianto’s skin. There was no breath between them that wasn’t ragged. Desperate. Pleading.
With a sound only slightly more triumphant than it was surprised, Ianto came hard over his own fingers and into the bedclothes. “Don’t you fucking stop,” he managed, urging Jack on as he rode out his own orgasm. Jack lasted only a few moments longer, and dug his fingers hard into Ianto’s hips in a bid for anything harder, deeper, more.
They crumpled together into the sheets when Jack finished. They rested there in a panting, tangled heap until Jack rolled onto his back and let out a throaty laugh.
“Something funny?” Ianto asked, shifting onto his own back so he could peek up at Jack’s face.
Jack shook his head and tugged a sheet up over his legs. “Nothing. It’s just that this was all very clean a little bit ago.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Ianto said, shifting a bit to avoid the wet spot where he’d come a few moments before. “There’s probably a lesson in this somewhere. Buggered if I know what it is, though.”
Jack snickered, then yelped when Ianto swatted him.
“I can think of better things for you to do with that hand,” Jack told him, and twined their fingers together with deliberate care.
Ianto smiled, let his head fall back onto the mattress, and closed his eyes.