Fic: Game On: Ianto in the Elevator
Title: Game On
Chapter: Ianto in the Elevator
Author: remuslives23
Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Fandom: Torchwood
Word Count: 3395ish
Summary: Ianto takes control.
Notes/Warnings: Sexual situations and references. Er, strong desire to strangle author by the end of the chapter? Apologies in advance. lover100 prompt 035: foreplay
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 | Jack on the Table
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies, BBC, and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.
Ianto ran his fingernail along the hem of the linen napkin which was folded into an elegant fan on the table in front of him. A light breeze rustled the tablecloth and made the flames atop the torches that lit the terrace dance. Ianto cleared his throat then reached for his glass of water when his dry throat continued to tickle. The glass trembled as he lifted it to his lips, and Ianto frowned down at his traitorous hand. He folded his arms then, mindful of how easily his suit crushed, he linked his fingers and laid his hands in his lap.
Jack was late.
He'd received a phone call from Gwen about some alien tech that had come through the Rift that afternoon and taken off, insisting Ianto stay and enjoy the spa at the hotel. He hadn't; it was alright going for a massage or facial with larger-than-life Jack Harkness who could make an enema fun, but going by himself seemed a bit... well, it wasn't really Ianto's style. So he'd spent the rest of the afternoon in their suite, looking out over the Bay and enjoying the time alone to mull over the unexpected non-admissions that had been made today.
Discovering that Jack cared for him beyond him being a decent bed warmer felt like standing on the edge of a cliff: the view was spectacular, the adrenaline rush made you feel more alive than you'd ever felt before, but one misstep, one overbalance, and there were plenty of jagged rocks waiting to tear you apart at the end of your nosedive.
He could step back onto solid ground - safe, reliable ground, but after balancing on the precipice, after experiencing that rush of blood, solid ground seemed so damn boring.
Was it worth the risk? Was Jack worth the risk?
Ianto saw the waiter glance sympathetically at him and checked his watch. Shit. Jack was nearly an hour late and had been gone nearly four. Ianto sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He may as well call it a night and try and call Tosh to find out what was going on. He fumbled in his pocket for his wallet then threw a twenty pound note on the table as an apology for taking up a table.
'Ianto!'
His head shot up and he had time to see repentant eyes and... fuck, was that a suit jacket?... before Jack was pulling him close and kissing him full on the lips.
'I'm sorry,' he said breathlessly as he pulled back, still holding Ianto's biceps. He made a moue of regret. 'I'm sorry. It took longer than I thought to sort out the great bloody mess the others had made and then, when I realised I was going to be late, I cleaned up at the Hub, but my only suit was here already so I had to go up to the room to change...'
'Jack...'
'You were about to leave, weren't you? God, I'm sorry, Ianto. You're pissed at me, aren't you?'
'No, it's... it's okay. You're here now,' Ianto said, flushing when he realised the other patrons were watching them with equal parts amusement and annoyance. 'Jack, sit down.'
'You haven't said you like my suit,' Jack pouted, stepping back and holding his arms out.
Ianto opened and closed his mouth, stymied for a moment by the non sequitur. He rolled his eyes then allowed his gaze to slide over Jack's body, immediately regretting it when his throat dried up and cock swelled.
It was a suit. Jack was wearing an actual suit. An extraordinarily well cut dark suit with a crisp white shirt and, bloody hell, a blue tie that made his eyes even more brilliant than usual. It really was ridiculous how good looking the man was, and how he could bring Ianto to full hardness with nothing more than a damned smile.
'You... Wow. You look... ' Ianto shook his head and huffed out a laugh. 'You know how good you look.'
Jack chuckled. 'Yeah,' he admitted, putting a hand on Ianto's back as he pulled out his chair for him. 'I just wanted to hear you say it.' His eyes lowered to take in Ianto's clothing. 'You look incredible in that colour. And you know how much I love you in a red tie.'
Ianto flushed, knowing exactly how much Jack loved the tie - he wore it specifically because it made Jack hard to remember how many red ties they'd ruined together. He sat down, feeling a little awkward at Jack's solicitousness. He knew it was just Jack being attentive, but it still felt odd to have a chair held out for him. He was suddenly very aware of how others would see them in this environment: not as colleagues, but a couple, and he surreptitiously glanced around the room.
Jack took the seat opposite. 'Stop it,' he admonished, taking his napkin and spreading it over his lap. 'You're thinking too much again.'
Ianto smiled, hoping it looked more sincere than it felt. It obviously didn't as Jack leaned in, crossing his arms on the table. 'If someone has a problem with us,' he said, effortlessly reading Ianto's mind. 'It's their problem, Ianto.'
'I know,' he said then repeated himself with more conviction when he saw doubt flash in Jack's eyes. 'I know.'
'Unless it's your problem?' Jack said quietly, staring at Ianto with a deliberately blank expression. 'We can get room service if you're uncomfortable. Or just... go?'
Ianto's smile held an edge of panic this time. 'No,' he said sharply. 'Jack...'
He took a deep breath and glanced pointedly at the waiter who'd been hovering at a discreet distance. 'No. I... I've been looking forward to trying the steaks here and plan on ordering the most expensive cut since you're picking up the tab. Don't think you're getting out of buying me a meal other than curry that easily.'
The waiter appeared by there table as suddenly as if he'd teleported there. Jack laughed, and Ianto was relieved that his mirth was relaxed and genuine. ''Good,' he said, smiling at Ianto then easing back into his chair. 'Let's eat.'
*
Dinner was as lavish as the rest of the hotel - generous helpings, creamy sauces, expensive wine - and Ianto felt pleasantly full and tipsy by the time Jack called for the check. He was on his feet before Jack and pulled his chair out for him as he stood, ignoring Jack's knowing smirk.
'Thank you, Mr Jones,' he murmured, waiting until Ianto had pushed his chair back under the table before reaching for his hand. 'Did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?'
Ianto grinned and, having consumed enough booze to make him rebellious, let their fingers tangle. 'You may have mentioned it,' he said coyly as they walked towards the elevators.
'It's worth saying again,' Jack murmured as he punched the call button with his thumb. 'And I am sorry I was late. I had hoped they could cope for one weekend...'
'Jack, it's fine,' Ianto said as the elevator arrived. 'You're here now.'
'Most people would have been at least a little pissed off,' Jack said, smiling at a woman exiting the elevator then leading Ianto into the car.
Ianto shrugged and pressed the button for their floor. 'I'm not most people, I guess.'
The elevator doors shut with a quiet whoosh and Ianto suddenly found himself pressed up against the wall. A little breathless and off balance from the unexpected spin, Ianto's hands scrambled against the wall for purchase as he blinked at Jack.
'No, you're not,' Jack said softly, admiringly, then he leaned in and kissed Ianto.
They'd kissed before, of course, but this felt different. Jack was... careful, hands framing Ianto's face lightly as he pressed their lips together softly; a flurry of tiny, chaste kisses that, at first, made Ianto melt against Jack, but, as the sweet, innocent kisses stayed sweet and innocent, he made a noise of frustration.
'Jack,' he whispered, taking his hands off the wall and flattening them against Jack's chest. He could feel the other man trembling, could feel his heart racing, and realised the effort Jack was putting into restraining himself.
'Mm,' Jack hummed, the vibrations tickling Ianto's lip as Jack sucked lightly on it.
Ianto slid his hands over Jack's shoulders and linked them behind his neck. 'I'm not made of glass,' he said quietly, rubbing his thumb soothingly over a straining tendon in Jack's neck. He was unsure of his footing here; Jack hadn't bothered employing much restraint since they'd begun this dance over Suzie's twice-dead body. 'You won't break me.'
Jack stilled then pulled back to look at Ianto through eyes that were suddenly so old and so tired. 'I can break you,' he whispered. 'And probably will.' His fingers slid butterfly-light along Ianto's jaw. 'You're fragile, Ianto. To me, you're incredibly fragile.'
Ianto's brow creased. He wondered if the problem this afternoon had really required such a lengthy absence, or if Jack had needed time and space to work through their admissions as much as Ianto had. He was certainly brooding now and, while appealing in his own way, brooding Jack was not the Jack Ianto wanted in that king-sized bed. They'd already expended far more time talking about their... whatever it was... than he'd anticipated. Any more admissions tonight - while Jack was morbid and Ianto was well on the way to being drunk - and there would be a fight because Jack was in the mood to sulk, and Ianto was in the mood to fuck, and neither were in the mood to stick a label on whatever it was their arrangement had blossomed into. Not when neither were sure what that label would be.
And, in their rage, Jack's fire and Ianto's ice would raze the lush hotel to the ground then, when the make-up sex amongst the ruins was over, Jack would be buried even deeper in his funk, torn between his heart and his head, and Ianto's over-analytical brain would start whirling and drawing conclusions about his own unwise decisions. Before Sunday check out arrived, they'd be right back to where they'd been before Ianto suggested the silly stopwatch game. This needed stopping before they pushed each other too far too soon.
Gripping Jack's shoulders, Ianto twisted and spun them so a startled Jack was now the one with his back to the wall. Ianto grasped Jack's wrists and pinned them to the wall over his head. A smile twitched at the corner of Jack's mouth as he gazed wonderingly at Ianto.
'You won't break me,' he said, voice low and rough. 'I'm here right now, Jack, and I'm not fragile, I'm not delicate.' He pressed closer, rocking his hips against Jack's, buoyed by the burgeoning erection that met his own. 'So cheer the fuck up, take me back to that fantastic bloody suite, and pound me until I can't remember my name. Alright?'
Jack's ghost of a smile burst into bright, brilliant life. 'Yes, sir.'
A muted ding signaled their arrival and the doors slid quietly open. Ianto released Jack's wrists and stepped back then let out what he prayed was a manly squeak as Jack hauled him back in for a fast and furious snog that left Ianto dazed.
'Come on then,' Jack smirked when he pulled back, taking Ianto's hands and guiding him out of the elevator. 'Work to do.'
*
They were surprising hesitant once the door of their suite closed behind them; Ianto taking his time hanging their coats, smoothing non-existent wrinkled out of the fabric, and Jack puttering about with a bottle of champagne he'd secreted into the room, wondering aloud whether it was warm enough to drink on the balcony.
Ianto leaned against the cupboard housing the sound system and fiddled with the radio settings. 'Want some music?' he asked, pausing on a station playing Forties swing. 'They're playing your song.'
Jack snorted softly as he popped the cork then held the bottle at arm's length, letting the stream of bubbles fountaining from the mouth spill over the table and into the glasses. Ianto clicked his tongue in annoyance and retrieved a towel from the bathroom to clean up the mess.
'Can't take you anywhere,' he muttered, swiping at the puddle.
Jack chuckled and took the towel off him, handing him a glass of champagne then finishing the mopping up himself. Ianto watched him with interest, his eyes still tracking him as Jack threw the soiled towel into the bathtub then came back to sip at his drink.
'What?' Jack asked, raising an eyebrow over the rim of his flute.
Ianto shrugged. 'You cleaned up,' he said.
Jack made a face. 'You aren't at work, Ianto. No reason for you to clean up my messes when we're alone. I am an adult, you know.'
'You're wearing a suit.'
'It's a fancy restaurant. Expensive too, I might add.'
'You're drinking.'
'Again, I'm an adult. Just because I usually choose not to, doesn't mean I don't enjoy a tipple now and again. On special occasions.'
'This is a special occasion?'
'It's not everyday I find myself in a luxury suite with a gorgeous Welshman on whom I've just spent a fortune in red meat and that I've managed to get drunk enough to let me have my nasty way with him.'
Ianto smirked. 'You've never needed me to be drunk for that.'
Jack hummed in agreement and strolled across to the bed. He sat on the foot of the mattress and, bracing himself with one arm, leaned back. Eyes on Ianto, he raised the glass to his lips and took a healthy swallow. Ianto watched his throat undulate then looked away as arousal curled lazily in his groin.
'So? Music or no music?'
Jack stretched out his legs and used the floor as leverage to slide his shoes off. 'Leave it on.'
Ianto cocked his head, listening to the bouncy beat as he stared at Jack reclining on the bed. 'You look like a women's magazine's centrefold,' he said, swigging down the rest of the expensive champagne with a haste that a connoisseur would call indecent. He left his glass on the table and moved to the left side - his side - of the bed. 'And a gay rag's wet dream.'
Jack twisted at the waist and watched Ianto toe off his shoes and socks. 'They couldn't possibly afford me,' he said with a grin, finishing his drink with far more delicacy than Ianto. 'Anyway, private performances only these days.'
Jack stood and put his glass next to Ianto's. His hands moved to his throat to unknot his tie. 'No,' said Ianto sharply, closing the distance between them and putting a restraining hand over Jack's. 'I want to do that. I've never peeled you out of a suit before and I may never get the chance again.'
He let his fingers glide over the fabric, feeling it ripple like water against his skin then smoothed his hand across Jack's chest. Jack's nipple puckered, pushing against the snow white cotton, and Ianto pressed a thumb to the tiny peak. Jack made a quiet noise in his throat.
'Keep looking at me like that and I'll wear a suit every damn day,' he rasped, leaning into Ianto's touch.
Ianto's lips curled up into a smile as his hand drifted lower to rub over Jack's leather belt. 'No,' he said. 'I don't want the competition. Anyway, I like that coat too much to let you put it into storage.' He tugged the end of the belt free. 'I like to feel it against my cheek when I'm on my knees, sucking your cock.' His nimble fingers unfastened the belt buckle. 'I like it when you ride me wearing it and nothing else.' He pulled the strip of leather from the loops with a quiet snick and let it fall to the carpeted floor.
Jack's nostrils flared with every carefully modulated breath he took as he held himself still, letting Ianto have his way. Ianto could feel his frustration oozing from every pore and took pity, unbuttoning his shirt quickly then pulling it from his trousers.
'We're leaving the tie on,' he said, slipping Jack's collar under the looped fabric before sliding it down his arms to pool on the floor. He took a step back and admired the blue silk as it settled against Jack's sternum, the end pointing like an arrow to the front of his tented trousers. 'I like it.'
Jack grabbed a fistful of Ianto's shirt and dragged him back so they were pressed together: chest to chest, cock to cock. 'I thought this was my reward,' he said, rocking his hips against Ianto's.
'It is,' Ianto murmured, brushing his lips over Jack's then pulling back when Jack angled his head to deepen the kiss. 'Consider this a treat for me for providing such stiff competition.'
Jack laughed - throwing his head back as the sound rang out loud and clear - and Ianto grinned. Real, uninhibited laughter from Jack was a rare and exquisite thing, and Ianto let it wash over him, let it fill every hollow, aching part of him. He buried his nose in Jack's exposed throat, inhaling the warm, spicy scent he'd come to associate with safety, a revelation which had startled him the first time he'd made the connection after the Brecon Beacons.
He felt Jack's moan rumble against his mouth and chased the sound until it slipped from between Jack's lips. Ianto was there to catch it, covering Jack's mouth with his own. A surprised noise was muffled against Ianto's lips then Jack's hands were cradling his face as the kiss deepened, tasting like want and affection with a undertone of desperation. This was how they communicated. This was how they talked, how they shared secrets. This was how Ianto told Jack he was scared of giving him his heart, but feared it was too late. This was how Jack told Ianto that he didn't want to love him, but couldn't stop himself from falling.
Ianto's hands mapped out every inch of Jack's torso, transversing familiar angles and curves, and lingering over known pleasure points. Jack growled deep in his throat when Ianto's fingers circled his navel then followed the fine sprinkling of hair south until it disappeared into his trousers. His abdomen flexed and Ianto's fingers danced over the clenching muscles. His lips dragged along Jack's jaw as, with a practiced flick of his fingers, the button of Jack's trousers was released from its hole then the zipper drawn down with a slow rasp.
With a shimmy of his hips, Jack's trousers slid to the floor. Jack stepped out of them then wrapped an arm around Ianto's waist, holding him close and crushing their mouths together once more as he walked them back towards the bed. Ianto's hands trailed over the front of Jack's thighs, his thumbs rubbing over the jut of Jack's hips before he fit his palms over the curve of his buttocks. His fingers slid beneath the elastic of Jack's briefs as they reached the bed, Ianto's legs bumping against the mattress. Ianto seized the thin black fabric between his fingers and, as he sank down onto the bed, pulled Jack's briefs down to his knees.
Jack made a choking noise as his cock sprang free of its confines. Ianto allowed gravity to work on the wisp of fabric and reached around Jack, grabbing his arse and hauling him in. He nuzzled his face into Jack's groin, breathing in the other man's scent where he knew it was the strongest. Jack's hand carded through his hair and Ianto gazed up at him, one hand still gripping Jack's backside, the other gliding up his body to splay over his heart.
Jack shook his head as he pressed his hand over Ianto's. 'Ianto Jones,' he whispered, curling his fingers around Ianto's before ducking his head to brush a kiss across the centre of Ianto's palm. 'I am so very glad I met you.'
Ianto smiled then let Jack catch his lips in another bone-melting kiss as he guided him down onto the mattress. 'My turn now,' Jack murmured into Ianto's mouth. He straddled Ianto's hips then hooked his finger under the knot of his tie. 'Time to claim my prize.'
Next
Chapter: Ianto in the Elevator
Author: remuslives23
Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Fandom: Torchwood
Word Count: 3395ish
Summary: Ianto takes control.
Notes/Warnings: Sexual situations and references. Er, strong desire to strangle author by the end of the chapter? Apologies in advance. lover100 prompt 035: foreplay
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 | Jack on the Table
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies, BBC, and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.
Ianto ran his fingernail along the hem of the linen napkin which was folded into an elegant fan on the table in front of him. A light breeze rustled the tablecloth and made the flames atop the torches that lit the terrace dance. Ianto cleared his throat then reached for his glass of water when his dry throat continued to tickle. The glass trembled as he lifted it to his lips, and Ianto frowned down at his traitorous hand. He folded his arms then, mindful of how easily his suit crushed, he linked his fingers and laid his hands in his lap.
Jack was late.
He'd received a phone call from Gwen about some alien tech that had come through the Rift that afternoon and taken off, insisting Ianto stay and enjoy the spa at the hotel. He hadn't; it was alright going for a massage or facial with larger-than-life Jack Harkness who could make an enema fun, but going by himself seemed a bit... well, it wasn't really Ianto's style. So he'd spent the rest of the afternoon in their suite, looking out over the Bay and enjoying the time alone to mull over the unexpected non-admissions that had been made today.
Discovering that Jack cared for him beyond him being a decent bed warmer felt like standing on the edge of a cliff: the view was spectacular, the adrenaline rush made you feel more alive than you'd ever felt before, but one misstep, one overbalance, and there were plenty of jagged rocks waiting to tear you apart at the end of your nosedive.
He could step back onto solid ground - safe, reliable ground, but after balancing on the precipice, after experiencing that rush of blood, solid ground seemed so damn boring.
Was it worth the risk? Was Jack worth the risk?
Ianto saw the waiter glance sympathetically at him and checked his watch. Shit. Jack was nearly an hour late and had been gone nearly four. Ianto sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He may as well call it a night and try and call Tosh to find out what was going on. He fumbled in his pocket for his wallet then threw a twenty pound note on the table as an apology for taking up a table.
'Ianto!'
His head shot up and he had time to see repentant eyes and... fuck, was that a suit jacket?... before Jack was pulling him close and kissing him full on the lips.
'I'm sorry,' he said breathlessly as he pulled back, still holding Ianto's biceps. He made a moue of regret. 'I'm sorry. It took longer than I thought to sort out the great bloody mess the others had made and then, when I realised I was going to be late, I cleaned up at the Hub, but my only suit was here already so I had to go up to the room to change...'
'Jack...'
'You were about to leave, weren't you? God, I'm sorry, Ianto. You're pissed at me, aren't you?'
'No, it's... it's okay. You're here now,' Ianto said, flushing when he realised the other patrons were watching them with equal parts amusement and annoyance. 'Jack, sit down.'
'You haven't said you like my suit,' Jack pouted, stepping back and holding his arms out.
Ianto opened and closed his mouth, stymied for a moment by the non sequitur. He rolled his eyes then allowed his gaze to slide over Jack's body, immediately regretting it when his throat dried up and cock swelled.
It was a suit. Jack was wearing an actual suit. An extraordinarily well cut dark suit with a crisp white shirt and, bloody hell, a blue tie that made his eyes even more brilliant than usual. It really was ridiculous how good looking the man was, and how he could bring Ianto to full hardness with nothing more than a damned smile.
'You... Wow. You look... ' Ianto shook his head and huffed out a laugh. 'You know how good you look.'
Jack chuckled. 'Yeah,' he admitted, putting a hand on Ianto's back as he pulled out his chair for him. 'I just wanted to hear you say it.' His eyes lowered to take in Ianto's clothing. 'You look incredible in that colour. And you know how much I love you in a red tie.'
Ianto flushed, knowing exactly how much Jack loved the tie - he wore it specifically because it made Jack hard to remember how many red ties they'd ruined together. He sat down, feeling a little awkward at Jack's solicitousness. He knew it was just Jack being attentive, but it still felt odd to have a chair held out for him. He was suddenly very aware of how others would see them in this environment: not as colleagues, but a couple, and he surreptitiously glanced around the room.
Jack took the seat opposite. 'Stop it,' he admonished, taking his napkin and spreading it over his lap. 'You're thinking too much again.'
Ianto smiled, hoping it looked more sincere than it felt. It obviously didn't as Jack leaned in, crossing his arms on the table. 'If someone has a problem with us,' he said, effortlessly reading Ianto's mind. 'It's their problem, Ianto.'
'I know,' he said then repeated himself with more conviction when he saw doubt flash in Jack's eyes. 'I know.'
'Unless it's your problem?' Jack said quietly, staring at Ianto with a deliberately blank expression. 'We can get room service if you're uncomfortable. Or just... go?'
Ianto's smile held an edge of panic this time. 'No,' he said sharply. 'Jack...'
He took a deep breath and glanced pointedly at the waiter who'd been hovering at a discreet distance. 'No. I... I've been looking forward to trying the steaks here and plan on ordering the most expensive cut since you're picking up the tab. Don't think you're getting out of buying me a meal other than curry that easily.'
The waiter appeared by there table as suddenly as if he'd teleported there. Jack laughed, and Ianto was relieved that his mirth was relaxed and genuine. ''Good,' he said, smiling at Ianto then easing back into his chair. 'Let's eat.'
*
Dinner was as lavish as the rest of the hotel - generous helpings, creamy sauces, expensive wine - and Ianto felt pleasantly full and tipsy by the time Jack called for the check. He was on his feet before Jack and pulled his chair out for him as he stood, ignoring Jack's knowing smirk.
'Thank you, Mr Jones,' he murmured, waiting until Ianto had pushed his chair back under the table before reaching for his hand. 'Did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?'
Ianto grinned and, having consumed enough booze to make him rebellious, let their fingers tangle. 'You may have mentioned it,' he said coyly as they walked towards the elevators.
'It's worth saying again,' Jack murmured as he punched the call button with his thumb. 'And I am sorry I was late. I had hoped they could cope for one weekend...'
'Jack, it's fine,' Ianto said as the elevator arrived. 'You're here now.'
'Most people would have been at least a little pissed off,' Jack said, smiling at a woman exiting the elevator then leading Ianto into the car.
Ianto shrugged and pressed the button for their floor. 'I'm not most people, I guess.'
The elevator doors shut with a quiet whoosh and Ianto suddenly found himself pressed up against the wall. A little breathless and off balance from the unexpected spin, Ianto's hands scrambled against the wall for purchase as he blinked at Jack.
'No, you're not,' Jack said softly, admiringly, then he leaned in and kissed Ianto.
They'd kissed before, of course, but this felt different. Jack was... careful, hands framing Ianto's face lightly as he pressed their lips together softly; a flurry of tiny, chaste kisses that, at first, made Ianto melt against Jack, but, as the sweet, innocent kisses stayed sweet and innocent, he made a noise of frustration.
'Jack,' he whispered, taking his hands off the wall and flattening them against Jack's chest. He could feel the other man trembling, could feel his heart racing, and realised the effort Jack was putting into restraining himself.
'Mm,' Jack hummed, the vibrations tickling Ianto's lip as Jack sucked lightly on it.
Ianto slid his hands over Jack's shoulders and linked them behind his neck. 'I'm not made of glass,' he said quietly, rubbing his thumb soothingly over a straining tendon in Jack's neck. He was unsure of his footing here; Jack hadn't bothered employing much restraint since they'd begun this dance over Suzie's twice-dead body. 'You won't break me.'
Jack stilled then pulled back to look at Ianto through eyes that were suddenly so old and so tired. 'I can break you,' he whispered. 'And probably will.' His fingers slid butterfly-light along Ianto's jaw. 'You're fragile, Ianto. To me, you're incredibly fragile.'
Ianto's brow creased. He wondered if the problem this afternoon had really required such a lengthy absence, or if Jack had needed time and space to work through their admissions as much as Ianto had. He was certainly brooding now and, while appealing in his own way, brooding Jack was not the Jack Ianto wanted in that king-sized bed. They'd already expended far more time talking about their... whatever it was... than he'd anticipated. Any more admissions tonight - while Jack was morbid and Ianto was well on the way to being drunk - and there would be a fight because Jack was in the mood to sulk, and Ianto was in the mood to fuck, and neither were in the mood to stick a label on whatever it was their arrangement had blossomed into. Not when neither were sure what that label would be.
And, in their rage, Jack's fire and Ianto's ice would raze the lush hotel to the ground then, when the make-up sex amongst the ruins was over, Jack would be buried even deeper in his funk, torn between his heart and his head, and Ianto's over-analytical brain would start whirling and drawing conclusions about his own unwise decisions. Before Sunday check out arrived, they'd be right back to where they'd been before Ianto suggested the silly stopwatch game. This needed stopping before they pushed each other too far too soon.
Gripping Jack's shoulders, Ianto twisted and spun them so a startled Jack was now the one with his back to the wall. Ianto grasped Jack's wrists and pinned them to the wall over his head. A smile twitched at the corner of Jack's mouth as he gazed wonderingly at Ianto.
'You won't break me,' he said, voice low and rough. 'I'm here right now, Jack, and I'm not fragile, I'm not delicate.' He pressed closer, rocking his hips against Jack's, buoyed by the burgeoning erection that met his own. 'So cheer the fuck up, take me back to that fantastic bloody suite, and pound me until I can't remember my name. Alright?'
Jack's ghost of a smile burst into bright, brilliant life. 'Yes, sir.'
A muted ding signaled their arrival and the doors slid quietly open. Ianto released Jack's wrists and stepped back then let out what he prayed was a manly squeak as Jack hauled him back in for a fast and furious snog that left Ianto dazed.
'Come on then,' Jack smirked when he pulled back, taking Ianto's hands and guiding him out of the elevator. 'Work to do.'
*
They were surprising hesitant once the door of their suite closed behind them; Ianto taking his time hanging their coats, smoothing non-existent wrinkled out of the fabric, and Jack puttering about with a bottle of champagne he'd secreted into the room, wondering aloud whether it was warm enough to drink on the balcony.
Ianto leaned against the cupboard housing the sound system and fiddled with the radio settings. 'Want some music?' he asked, pausing on a station playing Forties swing. 'They're playing your song.'
Jack snorted softly as he popped the cork then held the bottle at arm's length, letting the stream of bubbles fountaining from the mouth spill over the table and into the glasses. Ianto clicked his tongue in annoyance and retrieved a towel from the bathroom to clean up the mess.
'Can't take you anywhere,' he muttered, swiping at the puddle.
Jack chuckled and took the towel off him, handing him a glass of champagne then finishing the mopping up himself. Ianto watched him with interest, his eyes still tracking him as Jack threw the soiled towel into the bathtub then came back to sip at his drink.
'What?' Jack asked, raising an eyebrow over the rim of his flute.
Ianto shrugged. 'You cleaned up,' he said.
Jack made a face. 'You aren't at work, Ianto. No reason for you to clean up my messes when we're alone. I am an adult, you know.'
'You're wearing a suit.'
'It's a fancy restaurant. Expensive too, I might add.'
'You're drinking.'
'Again, I'm an adult. Just because I usually choose not to, doesn't mean I don't enjoy a tipple now and again. On special occasions.'
'This is a special occasion?'
'It's not everyday I find myself in a luxury suite with a gorgeous Welshman on whom I've just spent a fortune in red meat and that I've managed to get drunk enough to let me have my nasty way with him.'
Ianto smirked. 'You've never needed me to be drunk for that.'
Jack hummed in agreement and strolled across to the bed. He sat on the foot of the mattress and, bracing himself with one arm, leaned back. Eyes on Ianto, he raised the glass to his lips and took a healthy swallow. Ianto watched his throat undulate then looked away as arousal curled lazily in his groin.
'So? Music or no music?'
Jack stretched out his legs and used the floor as leverage to slide his shoes off. 'Leave it on.'
Ianto cocked his head, listening to the bouncy beat as he stared at Jack reclining on the bed. 'You look like a women's magazine's centrefold,' he said, swigging down the rest of the expensive champagne with a haste that a connoisseur would call indecent. He left his glass on the table and moved to the left side - his side - of the bed. 'And a gay rag's wet dream.'
Jack twisted at the waist and watched Ianto toe off his shoes and socks. 'They couldn't possibly afford me,' he said with a grin, finishing his drink with far more delicacy than Ianto. 'Anyway, private performances only these days.'
Jack stood and put his glass next to Ianto's. His hands moved to his throat to unknot his tie. 'No,' said Ianto sharply, closing the distance between them and putting a restraining hand over Jack's. 'I want to do that. I've never peeled you out of a suit before and I may never get the chance again.'
He let his fingers glide over the fabric, feeling it ripple like water against his skin then smoothed his hand across Jack's chest. Jack's nipple puckered, pushing against the snow white cotton, and Ianto pressed a thumb to the tiny peak. Jack made a quiet noise in his throat.
'Keep looking at me like that and I'll wear a suit every damn day,' he rasped, leaning into Ianto's touch.
Ianto's lips curled up into a smile as his hand drifted lower to rub over Jack's leather belt. 'No,' he said. 'I don't want the competition. Anyway, I like that coat too much to let you put it into storage.' He tugged the end of the belt free. 'I like to feel it against my cheek when I'm on my knees, sucking your cock.' His nimble fingers unfastened the belt buckle. 'I like it when you ride me wearing it and nothing else.' He pulled the strip of leather from the loops with a quiet snick and let it fall to the carpeted floor.
Jack's nostrils flared with every carefully modulated breath he took as he held himself still, letting Ianto have his way. Ianto could feel his frustration oozing from every pore and took pity, unbuttoning his shirt quickly then pulling it from his trousers.
'We're leaving the tie on,' he said, slipping Jack's collar under the looped fabric before sliding it down his arms to pool on the floor. He took a step back and admired the blue silk as it settled against Jack's sternum, the end pointing like an arrow to the front of his tented trousers. 'I like it.'
Jack grabbed a fistful of Ianto's shirt and dragged him back so they were pressed together: chest to chest, cock to cock. 'I thought this was my reward,' he said, rocking his hips against Ianto's.
'It is,' Ianto murmured, brushing his lips over Jack's then pulling back when Jack angled his head to deepen the kiss. 'Consider this a treat for me for providing such stiff competition.'
Jack laughed - throwing his head back as the sound rang out loud and clear - and Ianto grinned. Real, uninhibited laughter from Jack was a rare and exquisite thing, and Ianto let it wash over him, let it fill every hollow, aching part of him. He buried his nose in Jack's exposed throat, inhaling the warm, spicy scent he'd come to associate with safety, a revelation which had startled him the first time he'd made the connection after the Brecon Beacons.
He felt Jack's moan rumble against his mouth and chased the sound until it slipped from between Jack's lips. Ianto was there to catch it, covering Jack's mouth with his own. A surprised noise was muffled against Ianto's lips then Jack's hands were cradling his face as the kiss deepened, tasting like want and affection with a undertone of desperation. This was how they communicated. This was how they talked, how they shared secrets. This was how Ianto told Jack he was scared of giving him his heart, but feared it was too late. This was how Jack told Ianto that he didn't want to love him, but couldn't stop himself from falling.
Ianto's hands mapped out every inch of Jack's torso, transversing familiar angles and curves, and lingering over known pleasure points. Jack growled deep in his throat when Ianto's fingers circled his navel then followed the fine sprinkling of hair south until it disappeared into his trousers. His abdomen flexed and Ianto's fingers danced over the clenching muscles. His lips dragged along Jack's jaw as, with a practiced flick of his fingers, the button of Jack's trousers was released from its hole then the zipper drawn down with a slow rasp.
With a shimmy of his hips, Jack's trousers slid to the floor. Jack stepped out of them then wrapped an arm around Ianto's waist, holding him close and crushing their mouths together once more as he walked them back towards the bed. Ianto's hands trailed over the front of Jack's thighs, his thumbs rubbing over the jut of Jack's hips before he fit his palms over the curve of his buttocks. His fingers slid beneath the elastic of Jack's briefs as they reached the bed, Ianto's legs bumping against the mattress. Ianto seized the thin black fabric between his fingers and, as he sank down onto the bed, pulled Jack's briefs down to his knees.
Jack made a choking noise as his cock sprang free of its confines. Ianto allowed gravity to work on the wisp of fabric and reached around Jack, grabbing his arse and hauling him in. He nuzzled his face into Jack's groin, breathing in the other man's scent where he knew it was the strongest. Jack's hand carded through his hair and Ianto gazed up at him, one hand still gripping Jack's backside, the other gliding up his body to splay over his heart.
Jack shook his head as he pressed his hand over Ianto's. 'Ianto Jones,' he whispered, curling his fingers around Ianto's before ducking his head to brush a kiss across the centre of Ianto's palm. 'I am so very glad I met you.'
Ianto smiled then let Jack catch his lips in another bone-melting kiss as he guided him down onto the mattress. 'My turn now,' Jack murmured into Ianto's mouth. He straddled Ianto's hips then hooked his finger under the knot of his tie. 'Time to claim my prize.'
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