naaaaargh I decided to be romantic today. :/
Wrote this in an hour before work, and I'm posting it before I think better of it. Title to follow later. Title done! Some small revisions throughout.
Title: Listing to the Right, But Slowly
Rating: R for sex
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 680
Summary: Ianto makes a list.
Warning: POSSIBLY SHMOOPY. Or not? idk idk. Not as much porn as you might think.
Teaser: They're in the middle of it-deep and somewhat slow over Jack's desk, a pace Ianto calls stately and Jack calls faster, faster, please then shivers when Ianto says no-when Ianto lifts himself from Jack's back and grabs a Sharpie before it rolls off the edge.
Listing to the Right, But Slowly
They're in the middle of it-deep and somewhat slow over Jack's desk, a pace Ianto calls stately and Jack calls faster, faster, please then shivers when Ianto says no-when Ianto lifts himself from Jack's back and grabs a Sharpie before it rolls off the edge. Jack snorts against the desk-top, something akin to a wild pig snuffling or a horse in winter air. Ianto smiles and rests his palm against Jack's hip, gives a few short thrusts to keep him pliant. Jack concentrates on breathing.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Making a list," says Ianto.
"What?" Jack twists, tries to look behind him, then arches and settles down when Ianto runs the Sharpie down his spine. "A list of what? And-are you going to let me-"
"This won't take long," says Ianto soothingly. He reconsiders. "Well," he says, uncapping the marker. "Maybe it will." He bends over to start his list with a bullet point on Jack's shoulder, right where it curves into his arm. "This is a list," he murmurs, "of all my favorite times we've had sex."
"Ooh," says Jack. Ianto grips lightly on his bicep, slides up to his neck, guides Jack into the proper angle for a canvas. Jack complies but he can't help pressing back. He pushes backwards into Ianto, just enough to feel the cold and scrape of the zipper. Jack wanted fast; Ianto wanted slow. Ianto with his trousers on, as if they couldn't take the time to undress completely, is a compromise. The Sharpie wiggles from one shoulder to the other and Jack drops his forehead to the desk. Ianto rubs his thumb against the nape of his neck and Jack smiles. "Are you going to read it aloud to me?" he asks.
"I'll give you hints," says Ianto. He marks a new bullet point beneath the first and pauses to resettle himself in Jack. "The candlesticks," he says. "I really liked the candlesticks."
Jack laughs, breathlessly because Ianto thrusts into him short and sharp, a few long seconds of the pace that Jack is asking for. Was asking for, before he decided that Ianto sometimes knows him better than he knows himself.
Ianto pats the small of Jack's back and returns to a slow, distracted rhythm, Sharpie sliding across skin again. Jack breathes into it, lets it build, remembers why he lets Ianto fuck him slowly, without mercy. The push and pull between them spins out, his belly coils, everything builds up and every sensation is a truffle, something small and to be savoured. He's silent and blissed out by the time Ianto curls the last word to a stop on the edge of Jack's right hip.
"...had bruises on my legs for days," Ianto's saying. "That's a long enough list for now."
"Hmm?" says Jack, head resting heavy on his folded arms.
"I just need to sign my work," says Ianto, and Jack laughs when he feels the Sharpie tickle at the crease between his thigh and hip. Ianto caps the Sharpie and drops it on the desk. "Ready for the rest of this?" he says, and grips tightly onto Jack.
Jack barely has time to lift his head before Ianto's plowing into him, provoking yelps and writhing shivers, and Jack is suddenly awake and pushing back in equal measure and he spares just a moment before his vision clouds to think that it's a shame the list will be smudged before he has a chance to read it.
-
Weevils happen, then a small Rift alarm that needs to be checked, and then some leftover paperwork. It's hours before Jack is peeling off his shirt to take a shower. His back is dark and startling in the mirror. He peers over his shoulder and the words he can make out are not things like "handcuffs" or "UNIT cap" or even "ecstasy" and "quiver." He sees words like "safe" and "frightening." He sees "challenge," "boundaries." He sees "I trust you more than I could ever trust myself." The list isn't signed; it just says "Thank you."
.
Title: Listing to the Right, But Slowly
Rating: R for sex
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 680
Summary: Ianto makes a list.
Warning: POSSIBLY SHMOOPY. Or not? idk idk. Not as much porn as you might think.
Teaser: They're in the middle of it-deep and somewhat slow over Jack's desk, a pace Ianto calls stately and Jack calls faster, faster, please then shivers when Ianto says no-when Ianto lifts himself from Jack's back and grabs a Sharpie before it rolls off the edge.
Listing to the Right, But Slowly
They're in the middle of it-deep and somewhat slow over Jack's desk, a pace Ianto calls stately and Jack calls faster, faster, please then shivers when Ianto says no-when Ianto lifts himself from Jack's back and grabs a Sharpie before it rolls off the edge. Jack snorts against the desk-top, something akin to a wild pig snuffling or a horse in winter air. Ianto smiles and rests his palm against Jack's hip, gives a few short thrusts to keep him pliant. Jack concentrates on breathing.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Making a list," says Ianto.
"What?" Jack twists, tries to look behind him, then arches and settles down when Ianto runs the Sharpie down his spine. "A list of what? And-are you going to let me-"
"This won't take long," says Ianto soothingly. He reconsiders. "Well," he says, uncapping the marker. "Maybe it will." He bends over to start his list with a bullet point on Jack's shoulder, right where it curves into his arm. "This is a list," he murmurs, "of all my favorite times we've had sex."
"Ooh," says Jack. Ianto grips lightly on his bicep, slides up to his neck, guides Jack into the proper angle for a canvas. Jack complies but he can't help pressing back. He pushes backwards into Ianto, just enough to feel the cold and scrape of the zipper. Jack wanted fast; Ianto wanted slow. Ianto with his trousers on, as if they couldn't take the time to undress completely, is a compromise. The Sharpie wiggles from one shoulder to the other and Jack drops his forehead to the desk. Ianto rubs his thumb against the nape of his neck and Jack smiles. "Are you going to read it aloud to me?" he asks.
"I'll give you hints," says Ianto. He marks a new bullet point beneath the first and pauses to resettle himself in Jack. "The candlesticks," he says. "I really liked the candlesticks."
Jack laughs, breathlessly because Ianto thrusts into him short and sharp, a few long seconds of the pace that Jack is asking for. Was asking for, before he decided that Ianto sometimes knows him better than he knows himself.
Ianto pats the small of Jack's back and returns to a slow, distracted rhythm, Sharpie sliding across skin again. Jack breathes into it, lets it build, remembers why he lets Ianto fuck him slowly, without mercy. The push and pull between them spins out, his belly coils, everything builds up and every sensation is a truffle, something small and to be savoured. He's silent and blissed out by the time Ianto curls the last word to a stop on the edge of Jack's right hip.
"...had bruises on my legs for days," Ianto's saying. "That's a long enough list for now."
"Hmm?" says Jack, head resting heavy on his folded arms.
"I just need to sign my work," says Ianto, and Jack laughs when he feels the Sharpie tickle at the crease between his thigh and hip. Ianto caps the Sharpie and drops it on the desk. "Ready for the rest of this?" he says, and grips tightly onto Jack.
Jack barely has time to lift his head before Ianto's plowing into him, provoking yelps and writhing shivers, and Jack is suddenly awake and pushing back in equal measure and he spares just a moment before his vision clouds to think that it's a shame the list will be smudged before he has a chance to read it.
-
Weevils happen, then a small Rift alarm that needs to be checked, and then some leftover paperwork. It's hours before Jack is peeling off his shirt to take a shower. His back is dark and startling in the mirror. He peers over his shoulder and the words he can make out are not things like "handcuffs" or "UNIT cap" or even "ecstasy" and "quiver." He sees words like "safe" and "frightening." He sees "challenge," "boundaries." He sees "I trust you more than I could ever trust myself." The list isn't signed; it just says "Thank you."
.