So Good For You It's Bad For You
Title: So Good For You It's Bad For You
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: R (lightly graphic smut, language)
Notes/Summary: In which Jack gets maudlin at awkward times, and Ianto reminds him of someone. References to The Twilight Streets. Written for the July 28 prompt at horizonssing.
Oh it's bad for me it's bad for me
this knowledge that you're going mad for me
I feel certain my friends would be glad for me
but it's bad for me
It's so good for you so new for you
to see someone in such a stew for you
and when I say I'd do all you could for you
it's so good for you it's bad for you
I felt til you whispered to me
completely left on the shelf
but since you started to woo me
I'm just crazy about myself
it's a boon for you a break for you
to hear that my heart's on the make for you
yet no matter however appealing
I still have a feeling it's bad for me
Rosemary Clooney, "It's Bad For Me"
Some days Jack can’t shake the feeling that Ianto Jones is going to be the death of him. Not that death is particularly burdensome in the literal sense, or that Jack hasn’t gotten himself pretty badly mangled a couple of (hundred) times to protect his team. That isn’t what he means. Those deaths aren’t the Real Thing in any sense. They’re skinned knees and sprained ankles in comparison to Ianto Jones.
Jack tilts his hips as Ianto’s lips trail down his belly, but Ianto denies him and bites the inside of his thigh instead and grins when Jack hisses and tugs at the pair of weevil clamps that Ianto has used to fasten him to the headboard.
“Want something?”
He’d answer, except that Ianto’s put the fucking gag in tonight, so there’s nothing he can do but whimper through the rubber and squirm.
Ianto bites the inside of his other thigh.
Fact is, Jack knows how this goes. He’s fallen for more than a few beautiful boys since he landed here in the slow lane, at least one of whom was also a pretty, dark-haired Torchwood secretary. It ended badly. In this light, Ianto even looks a little bit like Greg, grinning down at him with all the pride of a schoolboy who’s set fire to the chemistry lab.
If they were smart, they’d stop. Jack knows damn well he can’t hold onto Ianto for as long as he’s worth (if he even lives that long, oh God but Ianto really does look like Greg), and that one of these days he’s not going to be able to jump in fast enough to save this beautiful boy from whatever it is that’s going to take him away.
“Jack?”
Ianto is crouched next to him, undoing the cuffs and gag and Jack has to blink a couple of times to get his bearings. His face feels wet, like he’s been crying. Ianto is stroking his hair.
“Are you alright? You just sort of zoned out there for a minute.”
“Yeah,” Jack says, and clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
The look Ianto gives him says that believing Jack is the last thing on his mind, but he doesn’t challenge. Instead, he shifts so that he’s resting on his side, kisses Jack’s forehead, and drapes his arm over Jack’s chest.
It’s good. So damn good. And that can’t be good at all.
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: R (lightly graphic smut, language)
Notes/Summary: In which Jack gets maudlin at awkward times, and Ianto reminds him of someone. References to The Twilight Streets. Written for the July 28 prompt at horizonssing.
Oh it's bad for me it's bad for me
this knowledge that you're going mad for me
I feel certain my friends would be glad for me
but it's bad for me
It's so good for you so new for you
to see someone in such a stew for you
and when I say I'd do all you could for you
it's so good for you it's bad for you
I felt til you whispered to me
completely left on the shelf
but since you started to woo me
I'm just crazy about myself
it's a boon for you a break for you
to hear that my heart's on the make for you
yet no matter however appealing
I still have a feeling it's bad for me
Rosemary Clooney, "It's Bad For Me"
Some days Jack can’t shake the feeling that Ianto Jones is going to be the death of him. Not that death is particularly burdensome in the literal sense, or that Jack hasn’t gotten himself pretty badly mangled a couple of (hundred) times to protect his team. That isn’t what he means. Those deaths aren’t the Real Thing in any sense. They’re skinned knees and sprained ankles in comparison to Ianto Jones.
Jack tilts his hips as Ianto’s lips trail down his belly, but Ianto denies him and bites the inside of his thigh instead and grins when Jack hisses and tugs at the pair of weevil clamps that Ianto has used to fasten him to the headboard.
“Want something?”
He’d answer, except that Ianto’s put the fucking gag in tonight, so there’s nothing he can do but whimper through the rubber and squirm.
Ianto bites the inside of his other thigh.
Fact is, Jack knows how this goes. He’s fallen for more than a few beautiful boys since he landed here in the slow lane, at least one of whom was also a pretty, dark-haired Torchwood secretary. It ended badly. In this light, Ianto even looks a little bit like Greg, grinning down at him with all the pride of a schoolboy who’s set fire to the chemistry lab.
If they were smart, they’d stop. Jack knows damn well he can’t hold onto Ianto for as long as he’s worth (if he even lives that long, oh God but Ianto really does look like Greg), and that one of these days he’s not going to be able to jump in fast enough to save this beautiful boy from whatever it is that’s going to take him away.
“Jack?”
Ianto is crouched next to him, undoing the cuffs and gag and Jack has to blink a couple of times to get his bearings. His face feels wet, like he’s been crying. Ianto is stroking his hair.
“Are you alright? You just sort of zoned out there for a minute.”
“Yeah,” Jack says, and clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
The look Ianto gives him says that believing Jack is the last thing on his mind, but he doesn’t challenge. Instead, he shifts so that he’s resting on his side, kisses Jack’s forehead, and drapes his arm over Jack’s chest.
It’s good. So damn good. And that can’t be good at all.