Fic: Hit the Showers
Fic: Hit the Showers
Author: agentmonk
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimers: Pfft, I wish.
Spoilers: The barest mention of Countrycide.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It's porn. Really, just porn.
Having just finished the nightly debriefing of the Torchwood team, Jack had sent everyone to their respective homes a few minutes ago, and was currently seated in the boardroom with the week’s schedule and a plate of biscuits. Deciding to go in search of coffee, Jack stood and walked down from the boardroom, catching sight of movement in the med bay.
He knew Owen would never stay late if he didn’t have to, so it had to be Ianto, being his usual workaholic self. Never one to pass up an opportunity for some shameless flirting, Jack went over to join Ianto in the autopsy room.
“Hello, there-” Jack began, and then grimaced when he saw the state Ianto was currently in. He was kneeling on the floor, his tie and suit coat hung over the back of a chair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and absolutely covered in alien gore. He was scrubbing angrily at a bluish-grey bloodstain on the floor, hissing a curse to Owen under his breath.
“Ugh. Having fun there, I see.” Jack commented, attempting a sympathetic tone. Ianto threw the brush forcefully into the bucket of slimy water, some of it sloshing over the sides.
“Of course, sir.” Ianto ground out, standing and moving to the sink, scrubbing out the bucket and refilling it with fresh water and soap. Jack huffed, venturing a little further into the room, keeping a good distance between himself and the angry receptionist.
“Whoa, Ianto; it was just a joke…no need to take it out on the cleaning supplies,” Jack grinned, splaying his hands out in front of himself in a gesture of peace, “And I thought we’d gotten past the “sir” thing?”
Ianto sighed, setting the bucket down on the floor with a little less force than he’d intended to, before rubbing his thumb across one blood-spattered cheek, only succeeding in smearing the stain across.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I wasn’t thinking.” Ianto said quietly, looking up at Jack.
“It’s fine. You’ve obviously had a long day…” Jack trailed off. The best way to finish the sentence would have been to have Ianto leave the cleaning up until tomorrow, but, if left that long, it would start to fester and rot, and smell to high heaven.
“Long is a word for it, yes.” Ianto answered, watching him for a long moment before sinking back to the floor, spraying the stain with cleaner and resuming his scrubbing.
Jack stood on the upper level awkwardly, caught between wanting Ianto to calm down and come to bed and wanting to prevent the gore from stinking up his living space.
“It would be better if these entrails would bloody well come off the floor…” Ianto muttered, dipping the brush back into the bucket before continuing.
“Try peroxide,” Jack responded, “The higher quantities of catalase in the blood should cause a chain reaction and virtually clean itself.” Ianto looked over his shoulder at Jack, who was just now descending the staircase into the med bay. Ianto frowned, grabbing a bottle of it off the shelf.
“Thank you.” Ianto said distractedly as he poured it onto the stain, scrubbing away the grey foam and rinsing it clean.
“Don’t mention it.” Jack smirked, leering openly as Ianto sat up and arched his back in a stretch, his vertebrae popping in protest. Ianto stood, making his way back to the sink to wash out the bucket, drying his hands on a towel and hanging it over the edge.
“I should have thought of that.” Ianto sighed, leaning back against the counter.
“It comes with experience,” Jack replied, his grin broadening, “Need any help getting yourself clean?” Ianto snorted, peeling off his ruined dress shirt, curling his fingers into the blue-tinged fabric before tossing it into the garbage.
“I believe I can manage, sir,” Ianto said, “I have some spare clothes upstairs.”
Jack raised his eyebrows at Ianto’s response, placing his hands on his hips. “I hope you don’t think a simple change of clothes is going to take care of that, Ianto. You can’t just splash peroxide on yourself and have done with it; that’ll take a good deal of scrubbing under hot water. It would be a lot easier-not to mention a lot more fun-with two people.” Jack grinned, his raised eyebrows suddenly suggestive.
Ianto gave a slight smile, the idea of a lovely hot shower with Jack all of a sudden sounding heavenly.
“I could use a shower, after all. But I’m fairly certain I can scrub myself…” Ianto answered, picking a little bit of goop off of his trousers.
“Yeah, but then I’d be bored, and you don’t want me bored and alone with you,” Jack smirked, the grin nearly predatory, “Not when there are so many interesting and potentially useful things lying around the Hub. Much better to keep me where you can see me. Then, at least, you’d know what unspeakably filthy acts I’m up to.”
“Yes, because they’ll be directed at me.” Ianto snorted, slinging his jacket over one shoulder, choosing to ignore the horrible squelching sound his shoes made when he walked. Jack looked down at Ianto’s shoes worriedly, and then glanced back up at Ianto.
“I’d take the shoes off and leave them here. Rather not have that stuff tracked across the rest of the Hub…Do you suddenly have a problem with being the recipient of my unspeakably filthy acts?” Jack asked accusingly. Ianto blushed slightly, stooping to unlace his shoes and pull them off, pushing them up against the wall with one foot, and bending his legs at the knee to take off his socks one at a time, draping them over his shoes.
“Of course not. I rather enjoy your unspeakably filthy acts, in fact.” Ianto said carefully, looking up at Jack, who had crossed his arms and leaned against the metal railing of the staircase.
“So you’ll let me in the shower with you?” Jack asked, tilting his head to the side, one eyebrow raised.
“Absolutely,” Ianto responded immediately, pausing a moment before adding, “It wouldn’t do to miss scrubbing my back, after all.” He finished with a smirk. Jack grinned brightly, standing up straighter and crossing the room to Ianto, wondering if he could prolong the question of extra clothes so long that Ianto would have to perform his duties naked the next day. ‘That would certainly be worthwhile,’ Jack thought, smirking.
“Let me just get my clothes from Reception, sir.” Ianto said, turning to walk up the stairs. Jack’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from going further as he turned Ianto around to face him, wiping a smudge of blue goop off his forehead.
“Later. I don’t want you tracking guts all through the Hub.” Jack said with a grin. Ianto sighed, looking over his shoulder to the stairway that promised fresh clothes, before turning back to Jack with a huff.
“Alright, sir. Let’s have that shower, then.”
“That’s my boy,” Jack smiled, squeezing Ianto’s shoulder gently, “And how many times do I need to remind you to call me Jack?”
“As many as it takes, I’d imagine.” Ianto replied, his lips twitching into a little smile as Jack’s hand dropped to the small of his back, leading them towards the showers downstairs.
“I’m not sure I can wait that long, Ianto. Can I offer any incentive?” Jack smirked, wrapping his arm around Ianto’s waist when he felt the man shiver in the dank air of the lower levels.
“Such as?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Anything you’d like me to do for you?” Jack answered innocently. Experience told Ianto that he was anything but. He snorted softly, turning the corner with Jack.
“Well, I would like a day off once in a while, sir.” Ianto smiled, making sure to add extra emphasis to the ‘sir.’
“Consider it done.” Jack responded immediately, opting to ignore Ianto’s lip.
“Then thank you, Jack.” Ianto answered, moving away from Jack and stepping into the large bathroom, padding across the cold tiles. Jack stood at the door, hands in the pockets of his trousers as he regarded Ianto thoughtfully.
“Just like that, hmm? If I’d known a day off would’ve gotten you to call me Jack, I’d have sent you home a long time ago.” Jack smirked, leering at Ianto as he peeled off his blood-soaked undershirt and unbuttoned his trousers. Ianto paused as he caught Jack watching him, turning fully around, his unfastened trousers hanging open and riding low on his lean hips. Jack felt his mouth go dry.
“Shall I just bathe myself, or were you planning on coming inside?” Ianto asked, grinning as his ruined trousers fell to the ground in a heap. Jack needed no further invitation, flashing Ianto a radiant smile before stripping quickly and efficiently, piling his clothes on the bench to the far side of the room.
When Jack finished undressing, Ianto had already gone to the first shower and set a wash cloth, a bar of soap, and a bottle each of shampoo and conditioner on the makeshift shelf cut into the wall of the shower, and was leaning naked against the floor-to-ceiling tile wall that separated each of the stalls, one arm out to test the temperature of the water.
The alien blood that had seeped through his clothes had stained Ianto’s skin in blue splotches all over his body. The man looked as if he’d been beaten. Again. ‘All the more reason to get him clean as soon as possible,’ Jack thought with a shiver.
He crossed the room to Ianto, standing close and dropping a kiss onto one pale shoulder, grinning at the man as he reached his arm towards the water to test it himself. Ianto had taken the liberty of getting the shower to the perfect temperature already, which only made Jack’s smile grow broader. He stepped under the spray, tilting his head up and letting it cascade down his face and over his shoulders, hot and soothing.
He offered his hand to Ianto, who took it with a coy little smile and joined him in the shower. Jack took the soap and wash cloth from behind Ianto, and worked up a lather, spreading the cloth across Ianto’s chest. Ianto sighed softly, relaxing into the calming circular motions of the cloth on his skin.
Jack continued slowly washing Ianto, the stains fading and swirling blue down the drain as his hand drifted lower, across Ianto’s arse and down his thighs, then up his front, trailing boldly over his prick, already half-hard from their proximity. Ianto sighed, leaning further into Jack, moaning softly as Jack washed his stomach, letting the edge of the cloth drag teasingly over Ianto’s cock, making his breath hitch and his back arch.
“J-Jack…” Ianto whimpered quietly, the little noise nearly drowned out by the sound of rushing water between them. Jack smiled, with only a hint of smugness.
“What is it Ianto?” He murmured, pressing his body up against Ianto’s, Jack’s chest sliding against Ianto’s, their skin warm and tinged pink from the heat of the water, slick with soap. Ianto gasped, grinding up into Jack, as slowly as Jack had bathed him before, sensual and unhurried.
“God, Jack…” Ianto’s eyes drifted shut, his arms coming round to circle Jack’s waist, his fingers trailing over Jack’s arse. Jack took a shaky breath, working a hand up between their chests to gently push Ianto back, the man groaning softly in protest, opening his eyes to frown at Jack.
“Wha-” Jack put two fingers to Ianto’s lips, shushing him.
“I haven’t washed your hair yet, Ianto.” Jack grinned, reaching behind Ianto to take the bottle of shampoo from the shelf, pouring a generous amount into his cupped palm, and then placing his hand unceremoniously onto Ianto’s head with a wet smack. Ianto opened his mouth to protest and started laughing instead, the sound quiet and rough, as though his voice was unused to it, but so genuine and contagious that Jack couldn’t help but chuckle too. It was wonderful to see Ianto laughing again.
“You should laugh more often,” Jack said off-handedly, working his fingers into Ianto’s hair, massaging his fingers deep into his scalp.
“Mm…should I?” Ianto hummed, letting his head fall backwards, a little smile still clinging to his lips. Jack cupped the base of Ianto’s skull, one hand still running through his soapy hair, white foam sticking up in strange angles.
“Yup. I’ll have to remember what makes you laugh.” Jack smiled, guiding Ianto’s head backwards into the water, rinsing the shampoo from his hair, bubbles disappearing down the drain. Ianto’s eyes remained closed even after his hair had been rinsed, and Jack had pulled Ianto back to his chest, moulding their slick bodies together. Jack leaned forward, stealing a deep kiss, his tongue lazily searching the depths of Ianto’s mouth, twining their tongues in a slow dance, sensuous in its simplicity.
They ground their hips against one another, lost in heat and pleasure, bodies so closely entwined that Ianto could hardly tell where he ended and Jack began. There was no desperate quality to this, no mad rush to completion; this was gentle and serene, the sound of rushing water drowning out tiny sighs and low, shuddering groans, soaking them in warmth. Their hands were everywhere at once, exploring long expanses of smooth, wet skin, digging gentle fingertips into hard muscle, brushing over dusky nipples, curling in dark ringlets of wet hair, cupping firm jaw lines and heat-stained cheeks, drawing close to drop fluttering kisses across collarbones, quiet moans escaping from their throats.
Jack gently pushed Ianto back against the wall, Ianto shivering as his heated skin hit the cold tile. Jack reached up to tilt the showerhead so that the stream hit them both, little rivulets running down the sides of Jack’s face, droplets clinging to his eyelashes. He smiled down at Ianto, who was panting harshly, blue eyes dark from arousal, wide and pleading. Jack captured his lips in another kiss, delving deep with firm strokes of his tongue, Ianto whimpering softly into his mouth.
“Please…” Ianto moaned, his fingers gripping Jack’s forearms tightly, as if afraid that he would try to move away, their lips scant centimetres apart, brushing when either spoke, so close were they.
“Please what, Ianto?” Jack murmured, his voice low and rough, breathy from arousal. He brushed his hips up against Ianto’s, rubbing their erections together, his pace maddeningly slow. Ianto gasped, wrapping one long leg up around Jack’s waist, wanting more, wanting to be closer still.
“Please…oh, God, Jack…” Ianto whispered, taking a shaky breath as Jack bent backwards to grab the bottle of conditioner from the shelf, a smirk creeping across his face.
“I can only assume you meant for me to finish washing your hair, Ianto. I wouldn’t want you to get split ends af-” Ianto cut Jack off with a fierce kiss, the bottle nearly slipping from Jack’s hand in surprise and pleasure, a little stab of want curling in his belly.
“Jack…please…fuck me.” Ianto said firmly, pressing a short kiss onto Jack’s lips, locking their eyes together. Jack grinned, though it was somewhat dimmed by Ianto looking so beautifully undone, held up only by an arm around Jack’s waist, and the wall he was splayed wantonly against, steam swirling around them and softening the harsh lights above.
Never a man to argue such an irresistible offer, Jack wasted no time in flipping the cap open on the conditioner and coating his hand with it, stowing the bottle under one arm as he pulled Ianto’s leg up around his waist once more and reached behind him to circle Ianto’s entrance with one slick fingertip, pressing it inside and brushing up against his prostate. Ianto gasped, arching into Jack, their cocks brushing together and drawing a moan from both of them. Jack pulled his hand away and added another finger, gently stretching Ianto open with scissoring motions of his fingers until Ianto was a shivering, gasping mess, and so utterly gorgeous.
Jack removed his fingers, Ianto protesting the loss with a low groan. Jack opened the bottle again, pouring conditioner onto his cock, unable to help a few satisfying jerks of his fist. He positioned himself at Ianto’s entrance, sliding ever so slowly inside, slick, and hot, and so, so, tight, the bottle falling to the floor with a dull thud, forgotten as Jack lost himself in Ianto’s body. He set a slow, easy rhythm, one hand cupping the back of Ianto’s neck, fingers curling in his wet hair, the other between them, pumping Ianto’s cock, his thumb pressing into the head and coming away slick with pre-come.
Ianto sighed, his breathing harsh and uneven. He liked this best, this calm, lazy pace, gentle and almost loving, pleasure building in waves, thrumming warm in his veins. Jack had rested his forehead on Ianto’s shoulder, and as close as they were, Ianto could hear Jack’s heartbeat, strong and quick, his muscles bunching up when Ianto brushed his fingers down the slick skin of Jack’s back, sinewy and lovely under smooth flesh.
Pleasure washed over Ianto, causing him to cry out his release, his back arching up off the tiles, coating their bellies with his seed. With a few short, quickened thrusts, Jack came with a low moan, muffled by Ianto’s shoulder, his hips still moving as he rode out his orgasm, coming deep inside Ianto.
Sated and content, they sagged against one another, sharing gentle caresses and easy kisses, the water, which had long since gone cold, rinsing come and conditioner from their bodies. Jack flung an arm out to shut off the water, little goose bumps rising on his skin. Ianto smiled sleepily at Jack as he moved away to grab towels from the rack, wrapping Ianto up tightly with one and draping the other across his own shoulders. They dried themselves, both wrapping the towels around their waists before beginning the long walk back to Jack’s quarters.
“So, Jack…about those clothes?” Ianto asked drowsily, leaning into Jack’s side as they walked.
Jack just grinned at him, wrapping an arm around Ianto’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple.
“They can wait until morning.”
Author: agentmonk
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimers: Pfft, I wish.
Spoilers: The barest mention of Countrycide.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It's porn. Really, just porn.
Having just finished the nightly debriefing of the Torchwood team, Jack had sent everyone to their respective homes a few minutes ago, and was currently seated in the boardroom with the week’s schedule and a plate of biscuits. Deciding to go in search of coffee, Jack stood and walked down from the boardroom, catching sight of movement in the med bay.
He knew Owen would never stay late if he didn’t have to, so it had to be Ianto, being his usual workaholic self. Never one to pass up an opportunity for some shameless flirting, Jack went over to join Ianto in the autopsy room.
“Hello, there-” Jack began, and then grimaced when he saw the state Ianto was currently in. He was kneeling on the floor, his tie and suit coat hung over the back of a chair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and absolutely covered in alien gore. He was scrubbing angrily at a bluish-grey bloodstain on the floor, hissing a curse to Owen under his breath.
“Ugh. Having fun there, I see.” Jack commented, attempting a sympathetic tone. Ianto threw the brush forcefully into the bucket of slimy water, some of it sloshing over the sides.
“Of course, sir.” Ianto ground out, standing and moving to the sink, scrubbing out the bucket and refilling it with fresh water and soap. Jack huffed, venturing a little further into the room, keeping a good distance between himself and the angry receptionist.
“Whoa, Ianto; it was just a joke…no need to take it out on the cleaning supplies,” Jack grinned, splaying his hands out in front of himself in a gesture of peace, “And I thought we’d gotten past the “sir” thing?”
Ianto sighed, setting the bucket down on the floor with a little less force than he’d intended to, before rubbing his thumb across one blood-spattered cheek, only succeeding in smearing the stain across.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I wasn’t thinking.” Ianto said quietly, looking up at Jack.
“It’s fine. You’ve obviously had a long day…” Jack trailed off. The best way to finish the sentence would have been to have Ianto leave the cleaning up until tomorrow, but, if left that long, it would start to fester and rot, and smell to high heaven.
“Long is a word for it, yes.” Ianto answered, watching him for a long moment before sinking back to the floor, spraying the stain with cleaner and resuming his scrubbing.
Jack stood on the upper level awkwardly, caught between wanting Ianto to calm down and come to bed and wanting to prevent the gore from stinking up his living space.
“It would be better if these entrails would bloody well come off the floor…” Ianto muttered, dipping the brush back into the bucket before continuing.
“Try peroxide,” Jack responded, “The higher quantities of catalase in the blood should cause a chain reaction and virtually clean itself.” Ianto looked over his shoulder at Jack, who was just now descending the staircase into the med bay. Ianto frowned, grabbing a bottle of it off the shelf.
“Thank you.” Ianto said distractedly as he poured it onto the stain, scrubbing away the grey foam and rinsing it clean.
“Don’t mention it.” Jack smirked, leering openly as Ianto sat up and arched his back in a stretch, his vertebrae popping in protest. Ianto stood, making his way back to the sink to wash out the bucket, drying his hands on a towel and hanging it over the edge.
“I should have thought of that.” Ianto sighed, leaning back against the counter.
“It comes with experience,” Jack replied, his grin broadening, “Need any help getting yourself clean?” Ianto snorted, peeling off his ruined dress shirt, curling his fingers into the blue-tinged fabric before tossing it into the garbage.
“I believe I can manage, sir,” Ianto said, “I have some spare clothes upstairs.”
Jack raised his eyebrows at Ianto’s response, placing his hands on his hips. “I hope you don’t think a simple change of clothes is going to take care of that, Ianto. You can’t just splash peroxide on yourself and have done with it; that’ll take a good deal of scrubbing under hot water. It would be a lot easier-not to mention a lot more fun-with two people.” Jack grinned, his raised eyebrows suddenly suggestive.
Ianto gave a slight smile, the idea of a lovely hot shower with Jack all of a sudden sounding heavenly.
“I could use a shower, after all. But I’m fairly certain I can scrub myself…” Ianto answered, picking a little bit of goop off of his trousers.
“Yeah, but then I’d be bored, and you don’t want me bored and alone with you,” Jack smirked, the grin nearly predatory, “Not when there are so many interesting and potentially useful things lying around the Hub. Much better to keep me where you can see me. Then, at least, you’d know what unspeakably filthy acts I’m up to.”
“Yes, because they’ll be directed at me.” Ianto snorted, slinging his jacket over one shoulder, choosing to ignore the horrible squelching sound his shoes made when he walked. Jack looked down at Ianto’s shoes worriedly, and then glanced back up at Ianto.
“I’d take the shoes off and leave them here. Rather not have that stuff tracked across the rest of the Hub…Do you suddenly have a problem with being the recipient of my unspeakably filthy acts?” Jack asked accusingly. Ianto blushed slightly, stooping to unlace his shoes and pull them off, pushing them up against the wall with one foot, and bending his legs at the knee to take off his socks one at a time, draping them over his shoes.
“Of course not. I rather enjoy your unspeakably filthy acts, in fact.” Ianto said carefully, looking up at Jack, who had crossed his arms and leaned against the metal railing of the staircase.
“So you’ll let me in the shower with you?” Jack asked, tilting his head to the side, one eyebrow raised.
“Absolutely,” Ianto responded immediately, pausing a moment before adding, “It wouldn’t do to miss scrubbing my back, after all.” He finished with a smirk. Jack grinned brightly, standing up straighter and crossing the room to Ianto, wondering if he could prolong the question of extra clothes so long that Ianto would have to perform his duties naked the next day. ‘That would certainly be worthwhile,’ Jack thought, smirking.
“Let me just get my clothes from Reception, sir.” Ianto said, turning to walk up the stairs. Jack’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from going further as he turned Ianto around to face him, wiping a smudge of blue goop off his forehead.
“Later. I don’t want you tracking guts all through the Hub.” Jack said with a grin. Ianto sighed, looking over his shoulder to the stairway that promised fresh clothes, before turning back to Jack with a huff.
“Alright, sir. Let’s have that shower, then.”
“That’s my boy,” Jack smiled, squeezing Ianto’s shoulder gently, “And how many times do I need to remind you to call me Jack?”
“As many as it takes, I’d imagine.” Ianto replied, his lips twitching into a little smile as Jack’s hand dropped to the small of his back, leading them towards the showers downstairs.
“I’m not sure I can wait that long, Ianto. Can I offer any incentive?” Jack smirked, wrapping his arm around Ianto’s waist when he felt the man shiver in the dank air of the lower levels.
“Such as?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Anything you’d like me to do for you?” Jack answered innocently. Experience told Ianto that he was anything but. He snorted softly, turning the corner with Jack.
“Well, I would like a day off once in a while, sir.” Ianto smiled, making sure to add extra emphasis to the ‘sir.’
“Consider it done.” Jack responded immediately, opting to ignore Ianto’s lip.
“Then thank you, Jack.” Ianto answered, moving away from Jack and stepping into the large bathroom, padding across the cold tiles. Jack stood at the door, hands in the pockets of his trousers as he regarded Ianto thoughtfully.
“Just like that, hmm? If I’d known a day off would’ve gotten you to call me Jack, I’d have sent you home a long time ago.” Jack smirked, leering at Ianto as he peeled off his blood-soaked undershirt and unbuttoned his trousers. Ianto paused as he caught Jack watching him, turning fully around, his unfastened trousers hanging open and riding low on his lean hips. Jack felt his mouth go dry.
“Shall I just bathe myself, or were you planning on coming inside?” Ianto asked, grinning as his ruined trousers fell to the ground in a heap. Jack needed no further invitation, flashing Ianto a radiant smile before stripping quickly and efficiently, piling his clothes on the bench to the far side of the room.
When Jack finished undressing, Ianto had already gone to the first shower and set a wash cloth, a bar of soap, and a bottle each of shampoo and conditioner on the makeshift shelf cut into the wall of the shower, and was leaning naked against the floor-to-ceiling tile wall that separated each of the stalls, one arm out to test the temperature of the water.
The alien blood that had seeped through his clothes had stained Ianto’s skin in blue splotches all over his body. The man looked as if he’d been beaten. Again. ‘All the more reason to get him clean as soon as possible,’ Jack thought with a shiver.
He crossed the room to Ianto, standing close and dropping a kiss onto one pale shoulder, grinning at the man as he reached his arm towards the water to test it himself. Ianto had taken the liberty of getting the shower to the perfect temperature already, which only made Jack’s smile grow broader. He stepped under the spray, tilting his head up and letting it cascade down his face and over his shoulders, hot and soothing.
He offered his hand to Ianto, who took it with a coy little smile and joined him in the shower. Jack took the soap and wash cloth from behind Ianto, and worked up a lather, spreading the cloth across Ianto’s chest. Ianto sighed softly, relaxing into the calming circular motions of the cloth on his skin.
Jack continued slowly washing Ianto, the stains fading and swirling blue down the drain as his hand drifted lower, across Ianto’s arse and down his thighs, then up his front, trailing boldly over his prick, already half-hard from their proximity. Ianto sighed, leaning further into Jack, moaning softly as Jack washed his stomach, letting the edge of the cloth drag teasingly over Ianto’s cock, making his breath hitch and his back arch.
“J-Jack…” Ianto whimpered quietly, the little noise nearly drowned out by the sound of rushing water between them. Jack smiled, with only a hint of smugness.
“What is it Ianto?” He murmured, pressing his body up against Ianto’s, Jack’s chest sliding against Ianto’s, their skin warm and tinged pink from the heat of the water, slick with soap. Ianto gasped, grinding up into Jack, as slowly as Jack had bathed him before, sensual and unhurried.
“God, Jack…” Ianto’s eyes drifted shut, his arms coming round to circle Jack’s waist, his fingers trailing over Jack’s arse. Jack took a shaky breath, working a hand up between their chests to gently push Ianto back, the man groaning softly in protest, opening his eyes to frown at Jack.
“Wha-” Jack put two fingers to Ianto’s lips, shushing him.
“I haven’t washed your hair yet, Ianto.” Jack grinned, reaching behind Ianto to take the bottle of shampoo from the shelf, pouring a generous amount into his cupped palm, and then placing his hand unceremoniously onto Ianto’s head with a wet smack. Ianto opened his mouth to protest and started laughing instead, the sound quiet and rough, as though his voice was unused to it, but so genuine and contagious that Jack couldn’t help but chuckle too. It was wonderful to see Ianto laughing again.
“You should laugh more often,” Jack said off-handedly, working his fingers into Ianto’s hair, massaging his fingers deep into his scalp.
“Mm…should I?” Ianto hummed, letting his head fall backwards, a little smile still clinging to his lips. Jack cupped the base of Ianto’s skull, one hand still running through his soapy hair, white foam sticking up in strange angles.
“Yup. I’ll have to remember what makes you laugh.” Jack smiled, guiding Ianto’s head backwards into the water, rinsing the shampoo from his hair, bubbles disappearing down the drain. Ianto’s eyes remained closed even after his hair had been rinsed, and Jack had pulled Ianto back to his chest, moulding their slick bodies together. Jack leaned forward, stealing a deep kiss, his tongue lazily searching the depths of Ianto’s mouth, twining their tongues in a slow dance, sensuous in its simplicity.
They ground their hips against one another, lost in heat and pleasure, bodies so closely entwined that Ianto could hardly tell where he ended and Jack began. There was no desperate quality to this, no mad rush to completion; this was gentle and serene, the sound of rushing water drowning out tiny sighs and low, shuddering groans, soaking them in warmth. Their hands were everywhere at once, exploring long expanses of smooth, wet skin, digging gentle fingertips into hard muscle, brushing over dusky nipples, curling in dark ringlets of wet hair, cupping firm jaw lines and heat-stained cheeks, drawing close to drop fluttering kisses across collarbones, quiet moans escaping from their throats.
Jack gently pushed Ianto back against the wall, Ianto shivering as his heated skin hit the cold tile. Jack reached up to tilt the showerhead so that the stream hit them both, little rivulets running down the sides of Jack’s face, droplets clinging to his eyelashes. He smiled down at Ianto, who was panting harshly, blue eyes dark from arousal, wide and pleading. Jack captured his lips in another kiss, delving deep with firm strokes of his tongue, Ianto whimpering softly into his mouth.
“Please…” Ianto moaned, his fingers gripping Jack’s forearms tightly, as if afraid that he would try to move away, their lips scant centimetres apart, brushing when either spoke, so close were they.
“Please what, Ianto?” Jack murmured, his voice low and rough, breathy from arousal. He brushed his hips up against Ianto’s, rubbing their erections together, his pace maddeningly slow. Ianto gasped, wrapping one long leg up around Jack’s waist, wanting more, wanting to be closer still.
“Please…oh, God, Jack…” Ianto whispered, taking a shaky breath as Jack bent backwards to grab the bottle of conditioner from the shelf, a smirk creeping across his face.
“I can only assume you meant for me to finish washing your hair, Ianto. I wouldn’t want you to get split ends af-” Ianto cut Jack off with a fierce kiss, the bottle nearly slipping from Jack’s hand in surprise and pleasure, a little stab of want curling in his belly.
“Jack…please…fuck me.” Ianto said firmly, pressing a short kiss onto Jack’s lips, locking their eyes together. Jack grinned, though it was somewhat dimmed by Ianto looking so beautifully undone, held up only by an arm around Jack’s waist, and the wall he was splayed wantonly against, steam swirling around them and softening the harsh lights above.
Never a man to argue such an irresistible offer, Jack wasted no time in flipping the cap open on the conditioner and coating his hand with it, stowing the bottle under one arm as he pulled Ianto’s leg up around his waist once more and reached behind him to circle Ianto’s entrance with one slick fingertip, pressing it inside and brushing up against his prostate. Ianto gasped, arching into Jack, their cocks brushing together and drawing a moan from both of them. Jack pulled his hand away and added another finger, gently stretching Ianto open with scissoring motions of his fingers until Ianto was a shivering, gasping mess, and so utterly gorgeous.
Jack removed his fingers, Ianto protesting the loss with a low groan. Jack opened the bottle again, pouring conditioner onto his cock, unable to help a few satisfying jerks of his fist. He positioned himself at Ianto’s entrance, sliding ever so slowly inside, slick, and hot, and so, so, tight, the bottle falling to the floor with a dull thud, forgotten as Jack lost himself in Ianto’s body. He set a slow, easy rhythm, one hand cupping the back of Ianto’s neck, fingers curling in his wet hair, the other between them, pumping Ianto’s cock, his thumb pressing into the head and coming away slick with pre-come.
Ianto sighed, his breathing harsh and uneven. He liked this best, this calm, lazy pace, gentle and almost loving, pleasure building in waves, thrumming warm in his veins. Jack had rested his forehead on Ianto’s shoulder, and as close as they were, Ianto could hear Jack’s heartbeat, strong and quick, his muscles bunching up when Ianto brushed his fingers down the slick skin of Jack’s back, sinewy and lovely under smooth flesh.
Pleasure washed over Ianto, causing him to cry out his release, his back arching up off the tiles, coating their bellies with his seed. With a few short, quickened thrusts, Jack came with a low moan, muffled by Ianto’s shoulder, his hips still moving as he rode out his orgasm, coming deep inside Ianto.
Sated and content, they sagged against one another, sharing gentle caresses and easy kisses, the water, which had long since gone cold, rinsing come and conditioner from their bodies. Jack flung an arm out to shut off the water, little goose bumps rising on his skin. Ianto smiled sleepily at Jack as he moved away to grab towels from the rack, wrapping Ianto up tightly with one and draping the other across his own shoulders. They dried themselves, both wrapping the towels around their waists before beginning the long walk back to Jack’s quarters.
“So, Jack…about those clothes?” Ianto asked drowsily, leaning into Jack’s side as they walked.
Jack just grinned at him, wrapping an arm around Ianto’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple.
“They can wait until morning.”