Take your coat, Sir?
Title: Take your coat, Sir?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Notes, credits: A while back, four of us wrote porn to the same prompt, then workshopped them together. This is mine. Alpha/beta credit goes to definehome, demotu, and resourceress.
Summary: Just a little bit of coat!porn, largely without plot. Set around the second half of Series 1. 1160 words.
UPDATE: Here is the link to the one resourceress wrote. Here is demotu's.
The ritual of taking Jack’s coat had evolved over time. At first, Ianto had affected the butler routine as a way of making himself useful without imposing himself, but now this ritual had developed its own meaning. It was a wordless greeting and a way to welcome Jack back into his own space and let him shed the outside world for a time.
Back from a three-hour outing to inspect the latest Rift spike, Jack walked into his office and smiled when he saw Ianto waiting for him beside the coat hooks. Ianto straightened up as Jack approached; Jack turned his back to him and shrugged the coat off his shoulders, as usual.
Ianto, instead of letting the coat slide off Jack’s arms and into his hands, caught it at his elbows and held it there, pinning Jack’s arms to his side. He leaned his body in close and nuzzled the light hairs on the back of Jack’s neck.
“I do love this coat,” Ianto whispered roughly, and Jack gasped lightly as Ianto’s breath ruffled his hair. “Do you know why?”
“The timeless workmanship? You have a thing for uniforms?” Jack asked, his playful tone undercut by arousal.
Ianto slowly pulled the coat back up Jack’s arms, and settled it back on Jack’s shoulders. Wrapping his arms around to Jack’s front, he smoothed the fabric with great care, stroking down his chest and ghosting over his groin. Jack hummed with pleasure.
“Both of those things, yes. They speak of history, and ritual, and rank.” He ran his tongue along the line of the collar, taking in the taste and texture of both the collar and Jack’s neck at the same time.
“Do you know why I take your coat from you?” Wickedly licking up and down Jack’s neck, he pressed his right hand flat against Jack’s fly, stroking lightly and feeling the beginnings of a hard-on.
Jack moaned quietly and pressed into Ianto’s hand. “Why?”
Ianto stepped around so that his back was to the wall, and he turned Jack to face him. “Because in the moment you give over this coat into my hands, you let go of all that.”
Ianto ran his hands down Jack’s chest and gripped his hips. Using them for balance, he dropped to his knees and looked up, grinning wickedly. “I like to see you let go.” He kept eye contact with Jack, who was now looking thrilled and faintly alarmed, while he nipped at his prick through his trousers. As Jack started to make a throaty, appreciative noise, Ianto asked, “Can you be quiet?”
Jack looked as though he was struggling to form words. “The others are still here,” he pointed out, making only the vaguest form of an objection.
“There’s food in the conference room. We won’t be bothered for at least ten minutes. And I won’t need nearly that long.” He ran his tongue along Jack’s shaft. Not waiting for his answer, Ianto undid the button and the zip of Jack’s now distended trousers. “Take yourself out.”
Eyes still wide with surprise, Jack complied.
“Put your hands on the wall,” Ianto instructed.
Jack had to lean over at an angle to do that, and the sides of the coat hung forward, making something of a three-sided shelter. Ianto was in a quieter, darker space, his own space for the moment, in which he could do as he pleased.
He took Jack’s cock in his mouth and sucked. When Jack groaned through gritted teeth, Ianto chuckled, and Jack bucked his hips in surprise at the sensation.
“Quiet!”
Jack contained himself to loud breathing and an expression of high pleasure as Ianto licked around the shaft and wrapped his lips around the head of Jack’s cock. He ran his hands under Jack’s shirt, settling the left one on Jack’s hipbone. Jack’s muscles were clenched and his hips were twitching. The right hand joined his mouth in working Jack towards orgasm, stroking up and down his shaft, cupping around his balls.
“Sweet fuck, oh,” Jack whispered as Ianto wiggled the tip of his tongue on his next downstroke and palmed his balls.
These were the moments that Ianto loved best. Bounded by Jack’s coat on one side and the wall of the Hub on the other, it was as if there was nothing but the two of them and the giving and receiving of pleasure. Ianto flared his nostrils to take in the odor of breath and body, and on his face he felt the warm humid air of sex, held in this tiny space.
Ianto looked up and saw Jack’s eyes on his, dark and amazed. He took his hand off Jack’s hip and used it to relieve some of the pressure on his own still-clothed erection, stroking himself lightly through the fabric.
Jack’s balls began to tighten, and Ianto took his mouth off just far enough to mutter, “Let go.” He took Jack in deep and gave three long, hard pulls. Jack’s hips snapped on the third, and his thighs shook as he went over the edge. His eyes were screwed shut, and he made a quiet, high-pitched noise as he struggled to keep quiet through his orgasm.
Ianto slowed his tempo, drawing out the aftershocks with lazy, steady pulls. When Jack opened his eyes again and softly said, “Ah,” Ianto released him.
Ianto stood up into the circle made by Jack’s arms and the wall, and Jack walked his feet forward to regain his balance. He tucked himself back into his trousers and did them up, then leaned in to kiss Ianto’s red, swollen mouth.
Jack reached out and gripped Ianto firmly through the wool of his trousers. “How close are you?”
Ianto pushed unthinkingly into Jack’s hand but regretfully pulled away as he heard the sound of voices coming out of the conference room. “Not close enough. Not enough time.”
“Want to go downstairs?” He indicated his bedroom with his chin.
“Yes. No! Ah -- you have to stop doing that. Really.” Ianto ducked under Jack’s arm and stepped away. He cleared his throat as part of a bid to regain his composure. “Take your coat, Sir?” Ianto gestured for Jack to turn around.
Jack smiled back wickedly, clearly having none of the professional routine. He turned his back to Ianto, shrugging the coat off his shoulders. Ianto caught it as it reached Jack’s elbows and stepped back, taking the coat with him. The scent of Jack wafted up from the warm wool, as it always did, and he inhaled as he hung it up.
He turned back to Jack, a secret smile on his face. “Can I get you anything, Sir? See if there are some pastries left?”
*****
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Notes, credits: A while back, four of us wrote porn to the same prompt, then workshopped them together. This is mine. Alpha/beta credit goes to definehome, demotu, and resourceress.
Summary: Just a little bit of coat!porn, largely without plot. Set around the second half of Series 1. 1160 words.
UPDATE: Here is the link to the one resourceress wrote. Here is demotu's.
The ritual of taking Jack’s coat had evolved over time. At first, Ianto had affected the butler routine as a way of making himself useful without imposing himself, but now this ritual had developed its own meaning. It was a wordless greeting and a way to welcome Jack back into his own space and let him shed the outside world for a time.
Back from a three-hour outing to inspect the latest Rift spike, Jack walked into his office and smiled when he saw Ianto waiting for him beside the coat hooks. Ianto straightened up as Jack approached; Jack turned his back to him and shrugged the coat off his shoulders, as usual.
Ianto, instead of letting the coat slide off Jack’s arms and into his hands, caught it at his elbows and held it there, pinning Jack’s arms to his side. He leaned his body in close and nuzzled the light hairs on the back of Jack’s neck.
“I do love this coat,” Ianto whispered roughly, and Jack gasped lightly as Ianto’s breath ruffled his hair. “Do you know why?”
“The timeless workmanship? You have a thing for uniforms?” Jack asked, his playful tone undercut by arousal.
Ianto slowly pulled the coat back up Jack’s arms, and settled it back on Jack’s shoulders. Wrapping his arms around to Jack’s front, he smoothed the fabric with great care, stroking down his chest and ghosting over his groin. Jack hummed with pleasure.
“Both of those things, yes. They speak of history, and ritual, and rank.” He ran his tongue along the line of the collar, taking in the taste and texture of both the collar and Jack’s neck at the same time.
“Do you know why I take your coat from you?” Wickedly licking up and down Jack’s neck, he pressed his right hand flat against Jack’s fly, stroking lightly and feeling the beginnings of a hard-on.
Jack moaned quietly and pressed into Ianto’s hand. “Why?”
Ianto stepped around so that his back was to the wall, and he turned Jack to face him. “Because in the moment you give over this coat into my hands, you let go of all that.”
Ianto ran his hands down Jack’s chest and gripped his hips. Using them for balance, he dropped to his knees and looked up, grinning wickedly. “I like to see you let go.” He kept eye contact with Jack, who was now looking thrilled and faintly alarmed, while he nipped at his prick through his trousers. As Jack started to make a throaty, appreciative noise, Ianto asked, “Can you be quiet?”
Jack looked as though he was struggling to form words. “The others are still here,” he pointed out, making only the vaguest form of an objection.
“There’s food in the conference room. We won’t be bothered for at least ten minutes. And I won’t need nearly that long.” He ran his tongue along Jack’s shaft. Not waiting for his answer, Ianto undid the button and the zip of Jack’s now distended trousers. “Take yourself out.”
Eyes still wide with surprise, Jack complied.
“Put your hands on the wall,” Ianto instructed.
Jack had to lean over at an angle to do that, and the sides of the coat hung forward, making something of a three-sided shelter. Ianto was in a quieter, darker space, his own space for the moment, in which he could do as he pleased.
He took Jack’s cock in his mouth and sucked. When Jack groaned through gritted teeth, Ianto chuckled, and Jack bucked his hips in surprise at the sensation.
“Quiet!”
Jack contained himself to loud breathing and an expression of high pleasure as Ianto licked around the shaft and wrapped his lips around the head of Jack’s cock. He ran his hands under Jack’s shirt, settling the left one on Jack’s hipbone. Jack’s muscles were clenched and his hips were twitching. The right hand joined his mouth in working Jack towards orgasm, stroking up and down his shaft, cupping around his balls.
“Sweet fuck, oh,” Jack whispered as Ianto wiggled the tip of his tongue on his next downstroke and palmed his balls.
These were the moments that Ianto loved best. Bounded by Jack’s coat on one side and the wall of the Hub on the other, it was as if there was nothing but the two of them and the giving and receiving of pleasure. Ianto flared his nostrils to take in the odor of breath and body, and on his face he felt the warm humid air of sex, held in this tiny space.
Ianto looked up and saw Jack’s eyes on his, dark and amazed. He took his hand off Jack’s hip and used it to relieve some of the pressure on his own still-clothed erection, stroking himself lightly through the fabric.
Jack’s balls began to tighten, and Ianto took his mouth off just far enough to mutter, “Let go.” He took Jack in deep and gave three long, hard pulls. Jack’s hips snapped on the third, and his thighs shook as he went over the edge. His eyes were screwed shut, and he made a quiet, high-pitched noise as he struggled to keep quiet through his orgasm.
Ianto slowed his tempo, drawing out the aftershocks with lazy, steady pulls. When Jack opened his eyes again and softly said, “Ah,” Ianto released him.
Ianto stood up into the circle made by Jack’s arms and the wall, and Jack walked his feet forward to regain his balance. He tucked himself back into his trousers and did them up, then leaned in to kiss Ianto’s red, swollen mouth.
Jack reached out and gripped Ianto firmly through the wool of his trousers. “How close are you?”
Ianto pushed unthinkingly into Jack’s hand but regretfully pulled away as he heard the sound of voices coming out of the conference room. “Not close enough. Not enough time.”
“Want to go downstairs?” He indicated his bedroom with his chin.
“Yes. No! Ah -- you have to stop doing that. Really.” Ianto ducked under Jack’s arm and stepped away. He cleared his throat as part of a bid to regain his composure. “Take your coat, Sir?” Ianto gestured for Jack to turn around.
Jack smiled back wickedly, clearly having none of the professional routine. He turned his back to Ianto, shrugging the coat off his shoulders. Ianto caught it as it reached Jack’s elbows and stepped back, taking the coat with him. The scent of Jack wafted up from the warm wool, as it always did, and he inhaled as he hung it up.
He turned back to Jack, a secret smile on his face. “Can I get you anything, Sir? See if there are some pastries left?”
*****