Fic: Game On: Jack on the Table
Title: Game On
Chapter: Jack on the Table
Author: remuslives23
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Fandom: Torchwood
Word Count: 2012
Summary: Jack pulls a fast one and gets more than he counted on.
Notes/Warnings: Rimming. A little angst. Written for day fifteen of mmom using lover100 prompt 066: table.
Previously: Ianto in the Archives | Jack in the Main Hub | Ianto in Jack's Office | Jack in the Tourist Office | Ianto on the Shooting Range | Jack on the Invisible Lift | Ianto in the SUV | Ianto on the Balcony
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russel T Davies, BBC, and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.
Jack closed his eyes and inhaled in a deep, calming breath. Weevils. Abbadon. Daleks. Fuck, no. Don't think of them. Cyberman. Shit, not them either. I won't be able to get it up at all.
He sighed heavily then pressed his face harder into the cushioned massage table as a long, guttural groan rent the air. Christ! That massage doesn't sound like it's hurting him too much. Or maybe it is? Maybe he likes a little pain? Maybe we should get a bit more adventurous in bed...
Another groan had Jack shifting uncomfortably on the table. He was hard - so fucking hard - just from listening to Ianto enjoying his massage. Of course, the strong hands rubbing his back were helping some, but those moans and groans... Fuck, his cock was going to drill through the table in a minute. Either that or he'd come all over it and, although he wasn't particularly bothered and would have no qualms rubbing off against the towel beneath him, he was sure Ianto would not approve which would mean no sex tonight. And Jack would not approve of that scenario.
But he was really, really hard.
Ianto moaned softly then Jack heard a muffled Welsh curse - those rolling vowels going right to his dick - and he'd had enough.
Oh, that is it!
His head shot up and he twisted until he could see his gorgeous blonde masseur. Jack smiled then pointed across the room towards Ianto before putting a finger to his lips. The man - Scott, according to his name tag - glanced curiously towards his colleague then nodded. Jack crooked his finger, indicating that Scott should come closer.
Tease me, will you, Jones.
*
Ianto made a noise of complaint when the hands kneading his shoulders disappeared. 'Scott will take over now, Mr Jones,' the masseuse murmured quietly. 'He has different specialties and can work on some of your specific problem areas.'
Ianto frowned - whatever the woman had been doing had felt damn good to him - but then large, warm hands were sliding across his back, their path eased by the the vanilla and almond oil blend Ianto had chosen, and he decided not to argue the decision.
It took him thirty seconds to work out what was going on and he grinned into the towel beneath him.
Okay, Jack. Let's play.
*
Jack frowned as he worked at a knot in Ianto's lower back with his thumbs. The way Ianto was arching up into the touch of a supposed stranger was making him feel odd. Hot, and harder than stone, yes, but also strangely uncomfortable. And the moaning had definitely taken on a sensual, purring quality that Jack had only heard when Ianto was in the throes of passion.
'Lower,' Ianto murmured, and Jack obeyed, sliding his hands down to the hollow above the rise of Ianto's buttocks. He pressed his heel into the flesh just above the crease of Ianto's frankly outstanding arse and rubbed it in a concentric motion, his cock throbbing when Ianto let out another gravelly moan.
'Christ,' Jack mumbled, taking one hand off Ianto to stroke himself. He was absently rutting up against the edge of the massage table, but it wasn't enough.
'Lower, please,' Ianto said, raising his hips in encouragement.
Lower? Fuck, he'd be rubbing Ianto's arse if he went any... Oh! Jack opened his mouth to object then snapped it shut. What the hell was wrong with him? If Ianto wanted to get off with what he thought was another bloke, Jack had no objection. Ianto could get off with anyone he wanted to. Hell, Jack would bring the popcorn and condoms!
But he couldn't stop himself from childishly poking Ianto in the side as he moved to get more oil then grudgingly made a noise of apology when Ianto yelped. As Jack poured a little more oil on his hands, he tried not to wonder at the growing irritation, the niggling ache in his chest that felt disturbingly like jealousy...
I don't do jealousy.
But as he worked the oil into Ianto's hips and saw the other man's legs part, he couldn't deny the wave of anger that rolled slowly through him.
I've been in this fucking century too long. All their bloody monogamy issues have rubbed off on me.
He bit the bullet and splayed his hands over Ianto's buttocks, kneading the firm flesh. Ianto groaned and pushed his arse up into Jack's touch, and Jack nearly exploded. His teeth dug into his lip as he dug his fingers deep into Ianto's cheeks, not bothering to be gentle. This only seemed to encourage Ianto - perhaps he really did get off on a bit of pain? - and his moans began to run together. Ianto's back arched like a cat, and Jack realised he was rubbing himself off against the table.
Fuck, he's doing this while I'm in the room! Where are his twenty-first century ideals?
And that's when the obvious hit Jack like a tonne of bricks. Stunned by both Ianto's sheer brilliance, and his own utter stupidity, his hands slowed, and Ianto voiced his displeasure.
Jack grinned, the ache that was absolutely not jealousy in his chest morphing into a warm feeling of affection and a little pride at Ianto's daring. He resumed his ministrations: this time, letting go of any and all restraint.
He ran his thumbs along either side of the crease splitting Ianto's buttocks, parting the flesh gently. Ianto stopped breathing for a moment, his body tensing, then, with what sounded like a chuckle, he spread his legs further apart.
'Lower,' he said again, his voice hitching noticeably.
Jack shifted to the end of the table then carefully climbed up. He nudged Ianto's legs apart then gripped his hips, pulling them higher. Ianto let Jack manoeuvre him until his arse was in the air and his face pressed into the padded table. Jack slid his hands up Ianto's spine to comb through the curling hair at his nape, then dragged them back down again and cupped his buttocks. Ianto shuddered and pushed his hips back in a silent plea.
Jack ran a teasing finger along Ianto's crease, pausing over the darker hued pucker before ghosting it over his perineum. Ianto made a choked noise and Jack smiled. He leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Ianto's buttock before biting down. Ianto hissed, and his fingers fisted in the pure white towels beneath them. Jack repeated his actions on Ianto's other buttock then, impatient now - his own needy cock screaming for some kind of attention - he used his thumbs to spread Ianto's buttocks.
He took a moment to breathe in the heavier, earthier scent here before flicking his tongue over the furled entrance. Ianto's strangled cry was muffled by the table, but his desire was clear. He thrust back in encouragement, and Jack didn't have the stamina to make him beg. He circled his tongue over the rim of Ianto's hole, pressing harder and harder against the clenching entrance until Ianto relaxed. Jack rubbed a saliva-slicked thumb against the pucker, pushing it inside then forcing his tongue in alongside it. Ianto mumbled something unintelligible and Jack responded by thrusting his tongue deeper. As Ianto slowly opened, Jack worked another finger inside, moaning as the head of his cock dragged against the towel and sent a shudder rocketing through him.
Ianto's weight shifted, and Jack could hear a fast and frantic slapping of skin. He slipped his free hand between Ianto's thighs, cupping his balls briefly before wrapping his hand around Ianto's. As Ianto pulled urgently at his cock, Jack thumbed at the tip. A fresh burst of pre-come made him salivate, the taste of Ianto still on his tongue from earlier, and Jack groaned when his own balls tightened painfully against his body. Jack felt the vibrations from his throat buzz over Ianto's skin, and it seemed that was the final straw for Ianto, the reverberations sending him crashing headfirst into the maelstrom of orgasm with a wordless cry.
Jack pulled back as Ianto's muscles squeezed tight around his fingers, his hand releasing Ianto's cock and diving for his own. He thrust his fingers in and out of Ianto's arse hard as he worked himself with short, sharp jerks. Ianto was shivering through the aftershocks of his release when Jack came with a shout, come splattering over Ianto's thighs and buttocks as Jack rocked his cock into the tight ring of his fingers.
Panting hard, Jack let his head fall forward to rest on Ianto's lower back. He could feel Ianto's rapid respiration in the rise and fall of his body and slid an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss against the skin beneath his lips.
'Thanks, Scott,' Ianto mumbled, and Jack nipped sharply at his hip. Ianto chuckled then reached back to card his fingers through Jack's hair.
'How long did you know it was me?' Jack asked hoarsely, and Ianto snorted.
'From about thirty seconds after you started,' he scolded. 'Honestly, Jack. I know your hands better than my own.'
Jack smiled and kissed Ianto's hip, soothing the red mark he'd left with his teeth. 'I was mad,' he admitted.
Ianto shifted beneath him and Jack sat back on his heels. Ianto peered over his shoulder. 'What?' he asked, puzzled.
Jack shrugged. 'I thought you were getting off with Scott,' he mumbled, feeling a little foolish and wishing he hadn't said anything. Why did he feel the need to spill his guts to Ianto all of a sudden? When had they taken this left turn into an intimacy he wasn't sure either of them were prepared for, or even wanted? He forced a teasing note into his voice 'I... didn't like being left out.'
Ianto narrowed his eyes, seeing right through Jack's evasion. 'That's not what you were going to say,' he said, and Jack cursed silently.
'We should clean up,' he said, avoiding Ianto's eyes as he climbed off the table and wrapped a towel around his waist. He eyed the wet patch on the expensive fabric ruefully. 'We've ruined hotel property already and we've only been here a few hours. This does not bode well for the rest of the night. I should have put something down for breakages...'
Ianto sat up and swung his legs over the edge. He hooked a finger under Jack's towel and pulled him closer so he was standing between Ianto's legs. 'That entire show was for you,' he said quietly. 'All the moaning, the groaning - even before you pulled the switch. It was all for you, Jack. It's always for you.'
Jack closed his eyes. Ianto had reached out. He'd taken the chance and reached out and Jack couldn't ignore it, wouldn't ignore it. No one else had ever known him like Ianto - known that he could be cold and cruel and ruthless - yet went ahead and gambled their heart on him anyway.
He deserved much better than what he was settling for.
'I know.' Jack shook his head, despair and fear for this beautiful man suddenly choking him. 'I'm going to hurt you, Ianto,' he whispered helplessly. 'I'm a bastard and, one day, I'm going to let you down. I should tell you to get the hell out of - whatever this is - before I make you hate me.'
Ianto swallowed hard. 'I wouldn't go,' he said, voice trembling, but firm.
Jack inhaled a shaky breath and opened his eyes. 'I know,' he said softly, laying a hand on Ianto's cheek. 'And I can't bring myself to tell you to.'
They stared at each other for a long moment; a stand off, neither of them courageous enough to be the one to put everything they were feeling into words. Jack broke first, letting out the breath he'd been holding in a rush and leaning his brow against Ianto's. His hand slid around to the back of Ianto's neck, tangling in his hair as he pulled Ianto into a sweet, slow kiss that he hoped said everything that needed to be said.
Next
Chapter: Jack on the Table
Author: remuslives23
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Fandom: Torchwood
Word Count: 2012
Summary: Jack pulls a fast one and gets more than he counted on.
Notes/Warnings: Rimming. A little angst. Written for day fifteen of mmom using lover100 prompt 066: table.
Previously: Ianto in the Archives | Jack in the Main Hub | Ianto in Jack's Office | Jack in the Tourist Office | Ianto on the Shooting Range | Jack on the Invisible Lift | Ianto in the SUV | Ianto on the Balcony
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russel T Davies, BBC, and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.
Jack closed his eyes and inhaled in a deep, calming breath. Weevils. Abbadon. Daleks. Fuck, no. Don't think of them. Cyberman. Shit, not them either. I won't be able to get it up at all.
He sighed heavily then pressed his face harder into the cushioned massage table as a long, guttural groan rent the air. Christ! That massage doesn't sound like it's hurting him too much. Or maybe it is? Maybe he likes a little pain? Maybe we should get a bit more adventurous in bed...
Another groan had Jack shifting uncomfortably on the table. He was hard - so fucking hard - just from listening to Ianto enjoying his massage. Of course, the strong hands rubbing his back were helping some, but those moans and groans... Fuck, his cock was going to drill through the table in a minute. Either that or he'd come all over it and, although he wasn't particularly bothered and would have no qualms rubbing off against the towel beneath him, he was sure Ianto would not approve which would mean no sex tonight. And Jack would not approve of that scenario.
But he was really, really hard.
Ianto moaned softly then Jack heard a muffled Welsh curse - those rolling vowels going right to his dick - and he'd had enough.
Oh, that is it!
His head shot up and he twisted until he could see his gorgeous blonde masseur. Jack smiled then pointed across the room towards Ianto before putting a finger to his lips. The man - Scott, according to his name tag - glanced curiously towards his colleague then nodded. Jack crooked his finger, indicating that Scott should come closer.
Tease me, will you, Jones.
*
Ianto made a noise of complaint when the hands kneading his shoulders disappeared. 'Scott will take over now, Mr Jones,' the masseuse murmured quietly. 'He has different specialties and can work on some of your specific problem areas.'
Ianto frowned - whatever the woman had been doing had felt damn good to him - but then large, warm hands were sliding across his back, their path eased by the the vanilla and almond oil blend Ianto had chosen, and he decided not to argue the decision.
It took him thirty seconds to work out what was going on and he grinned into the towel beneath him.
Okay, Jack. Let's play.
*
Jack frowned as he worked at a knot in Ianto's lower back with his thumbs. The way Ianto was arching up into the touch of a supposed stranger was making him feel odd. Hot, and harder than stone, yes, but also strangely uncomfortable. And the moaning had definitely taken on a sensual, purring quality that Jack had only heard when Ianto was in the throes of passion.
'Lower,' Ianto murmured, and Jack obeyed, sliding his hands down to the hollow above the rise of Ianto's buttocks. He pressed his heel into the flesh just above the crease of Ianto's frankly outstanding arse and rubbed it in a concentric motion, his cock throbbing when Ianto let out another gravelly moan.
'Christ,' Jack mumbled, taking one hand off Ianto to stroke himself. He was absently rutting up against the edge of the massage table, but it wasn't enough.
'Lower, please,' Ianto said, raising his hips in encouragement.
Lower? Fuck, he'd be rubbing Ianto's arse if he went any... Oh! Jack opened his mouth to object then snapped it shut. What the hell was wrong with him? If Ianto wanted to get off with what he thought was another bloke, Jack had no objection. Ianto could get off with anyone he wanted to. Hell, Jack would bring the popcorn and condoms!
But he couldn't stop himself from childishly poking Ianto in the side as he moved to get more oil then grudgingly made a noise of apology when Ianto yelped. As Jack poured a little more oil on his hands, he tried not to wonder at the growing irritation, the niggling ache in his chest that felt disturbingly like jealousy...
I don't do jealousy.
But as he worked the oil into Ianto's hips and saw the other man's legs part, he couldn't deny the wave of anger that rolled slowly through him.
I've been in this fucking century too long. All their bloody monogamy issues have rubbed off on me.
He bit the bullet and splayed his hands over Ianto's buttocks, kneading the firm flesh. Ianto groaned and pushed his arse up into Jack's touch, and Jack nearly exploded. His teeth dug into his lip as he dug his fingers deep into Ianto's cheeks, not bothering to be gentle. This only seemed to encourage Ianto - perhaps he really did get off on a bit of pain? - and his moans began to run together. Ianto's back arched like a cat, and Jack realised he was rubbing himself off against the table.
Fuck, he's doing this while I'm in the room! Where are his twenty-first century ideals?
And that's when the obvious hit Jack like a tonne of bricks. Stunned by both Ianto's sheer brilliance, and his own utter stupidity, his hands slowed, and Ianto voiced his displeasure.
Jack grinned, the ache that was absolutely not jealousy in his chest morphing into a warm feeling of affection and a little pride at Ianto's daring. He resumed his ministrations: this time, letting go of any and all restraint.
He ran his thumbs along either side of the crease splitting Ianto's buttocks, parting the flesh gently. Ianto stopped breathing for a moment, his body tensing, then, with what sounded like a chuckle, he spread his legs further apart.
'Lower,' he said again, his voice hitching noticeably.
Jack shifted to the end of the table then carefully climbed up. He nudged Ianto's legs apart then gripped his hips, pulling them higher. Ianto let Jack manoeuvre him until his arse was in the air and his face pressed into the padded table. Jack slid his hands up Ianto's spine to comb through the curling hair at his nape, then dragged them back down again and cupped his buttocks. Ianto shuddered and pushed his hips back in a silent plea.
Jack ran a teasing finger along Ianto's crease, pausing over the darker hued pucker before ghosting it over his perineum. Ianto made a choked noise and Jack smiled. He leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Ianto's buttock before biting down. Ianto hissed, and his fingers fisted in the pure white towels beneath them. Jack repeated his actions on Ianto's other buttock then, impatient now - his own needy cock screaming for some kind of attention - he used his thumbs to spread Ianto's buttocks.
He took a moment to breathe in the heavier, earthier scent here before flicking his tongue over the furled entrance. Ianto's strangled cry was muffled by the table, but his desire was clear. He thrust back in encouragement, and Jack didn't have the stamina to make him beg. He circled his tongue over the rim of Ianto's hole, pressing harder and harder against the clenching entrance until Ianto relaxed. Jack rubbed a saliva-slicked thumb against the pucker, pushing it inside then forcing his tongue in alongside it. Ianto mumbled something unintelligible and Jack responded by thrusting his tongue deeper. As Ianto slowly opened, Jack worked another finger inside, moaning as the head of his cock dragged against the towel and sent a shudder rocketing through him.
Ianto's weight shifted, and Jack could hear a fast and frantic slapping of skin. He slipped his free hand between Ianto's thighs, cupping his balls briefly before wrapping his hand around Ianto's. As Ianto pulled urgently at his cock, Jack thumbed at the tip. A fresh burst of pre-come made him salivate, the taste of Ianto still on his tongue from earlier, and Jack groaned when his own balls tightened painfully against his body. Jack felt the vibrations from his throat buzz over Ianto's skin, and it seemed that was the final straw for Ianto, the reverberations sending him crashing headfirst into the maelstrom of orgasm with a wordless cry.
Jack pulled back as Ianto's muscles squeezed tight around his fingers, his hand releasing Ianto's cock and diving for his own. He thrust his fingers in and out of Ianto's arse hard as he worked himself with short, sharp jerks. Ianto was shivering through the aftershocks of his release when Jack came with a shout, come splattering over Ianto's thighs and buttocks as Jack rocked his cock into the tight ring of his fingers.
Panting hard, Jack let his head fall forward to rest on Ianto's lower back. He could feel Ianto's rapid respiration in the rise and fall of his body and slid an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss against the skin beneath his lips.
'Thanks, Scott,' Ianto mumbled, and Jack nipped sharply at his hip. Ianto chuckled then reached back to card his fingers through Jack's hair.
'How long did you know it was me?' Jack asked hoarsely, and Ianto snorted.
'From about thirty seconds after you started,' he scolded. 'Honestly, Jack. I know your hands better than my own.'
Jack smiled and kissed Ianto's hip, soothing the red mark he'd left with his teeth. 'I was mad,' he admitted.
Ianto shifted beneath him and Jack sat back on his heels. Ianto peered over his shoulder. 'What?' he asked, puzzled.
Jack shrugged. 'I thought you were getting off with Scott,' he mumbled, feeling a little foolish and wishing he hadn't said anything. Why did he feel the need to spill his guts to Ianto all of a sudden? When had they taken this left turn into an intimacy he wasn't sure either of them were prepared for, or even wanted? He forced a teasing note into his voice 'I... didn't like being left out.'
Ianto narrowed his eyes, seeing right through Jack's evasion. 'That's not what you were going to say,' he said, and Jack cursed silently.
'We should clean up,' he said, avoiding Ianto's eyes as he climbed off the table and wrapped a towel around his waist. He eyed the wet patch on the expensive fabric ruefully. 'We've ruined hotel property already and we've only been here a few hours. This does not bode well for the rest of the night. I should have put something down for breakages...'
Ianto sat up and swung his legs over the edge. He hooked a finger under Jack's towel and pulled him closer so he was standing between Ianto's legs. 'That entire show was for you,' he said quietly. 'All the moaning, the groaning - even before you pulled the switch. It was all for you, Jack. It's always for you.'
Jack closed his eyes. Ianto had reached out. He'd taken the chance and reached out and Jack couldn't ignore it, wouldn't ignore it. No one else had ever known him like Ianto - known that he could be cold and cruel and ruthless - yet went ahead and gambled their heart on him anyway.
He deserved much better than what he was settling for.
'I know.' Jack shook his head, despair and fear for this beautiful man suddenly choking him. 'I'm going to hurt you, Ianto,' he whispered helplessly. 'I'm a bastard and, one day, I'm going to let you down. I should tell you to get the hell out of - whatever this is - before I make you hate me.'
Ianto swallowed hard. 'I wouldn't go,' he said, voice trembling, but firm.
Jack inhaled a shaky breath and opened his eyes. 'I know,' he said softly, laying a hand on Ianto's cheek. 'And I can't bring myself to tell you to.'
They stared at each other for a long moment; a stand off, neither of them courageous enough to be the one to put everything they were feeling into words. Jack broke first, letting out the breath he'd been holding in a rush and leaning his brow against Ianto's. His hand slid around to the back of Ianto's neck, tangling in his hair as he pulled Ianto into a sweet, slow kiss that he hoped said everything that needed to be said.
Next