hell hath no fury (or: whoops, i did it again)

[laser_not_sonic]

Continued from here

The Master grins hugely when Ianto finally concedes.  Because yes, that is a concession, no matter how much grump and snark he might cloak it in; the tricky part's over.  But hmm, where to take him now?  That's something different.  The bedroom in his TARDIS is for seductions, things that pretend at being meaningful, and that,

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[te_gwas]

He can feel the wall change at his back and for just one blissful moment he's happy enough (well, maybe not happy) to continue the kiss, fingers curling into the Master's clothes. Then the smell hits him: musty, cold, and oh so familiar.

He pushes the Master away, eyes immediately darting to the CCTV cameras and the workstations. No Gwen. No Jack. Thank god. The Master, though, the Master is still here, and he's the recipient of a very heated glare.

"No. Not here." Not now. Not where they could be - and god, he has to disable the CCTV, wipe this away, shut off the silent alarm before anyone's alerted (please please please don't be here, Jack).

[laser_not_sonic]

Ianto's sudden panic is palpable, and the Master's lips curl into a smirk. Oh no. You're not getting away with it that easily, Ianto. Casually, he draws his laser screwdriver out of a pocket, aiming it easily at the camera whose dark lens is currently taking in their every moment. A beam of golden light shoots from the screwdriver, and the camera explodes. There. That takes care of that problem

[te_gwas]

An angry flush rises in his cheeks under the Master's gaze and he growls, giving another (rather token) struggle at being pinned. No one's here. No one to find you, no one to help you, no one to stop you from doing this. There's a gun, though, in Gwen's drawer - and in Jack's desk, if he can somehow get there. Not that he's suddenly afraid of how casually the Master had destroyed that camera.

The furious tirade of it's the Master, you idiot, you fucking idiot in his head is cut short by the sudden spike of pleasure and his breath catches, sliding into a soft moan. The voice in his head is replaced by the Master's - 'you want me too' - and he does, he really does. He presses into that hand, eyelids fluttering as he leans his head back against the wall. He wants to say he hates this but that would be too pathetic, too false, too much of a surrender.

[laser_not_sonic]

Jack the Fact really does know how to pick them, the Master reflects, grinding the ball of his hand down against Ianto's flies, against the erection he can feel swelling beneath the fabric. The blueish light of the Hub makes his dark lips look even darker against pale skin and flushed cheeks, and the Master chuckles, his busy hand kneading and stroking.

His smirk this time is cruel as well as appreciative. 'What, no fight? Don't tell me you're giving in that easily; I might as well have bought myself a whore if that's what I wanted.'

Because Ianto Jones is a pretty boy, no doubt about it, but it was that fight of earlier that had made it such fun. If he'd wanted him to simply lie back and beg for it, he would have hypnotised him. Not that he won't enjoy himself either way, but still, a good fight gets the blood going, adds a bit of spice to one's day.