Silver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
a_silver_story) wrote2009-06-21 02:36 am
a_silver_story) wrote2009-06-21 02:36 am
Entry tags:
Torchwood IM: Poor Jack ... ish
Title: Poor Jack ... ish
Chapter: 43
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness.
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
a_silver_story
Genre Humour
Rating: R
Warnings: m.m
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Janet gets abused in the name of the Bloody Jet, and Ianto unleashes his secret weapon. (The innuendo was intended. This is me, after all.)
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
43 |
They were in Ianto’s bed, because Ianto had the comfier mattress, fluffier duvets and much, much more space. They’d made love twice now: Ianto relishing the sight of Jack coming undone below him, then letting him do the same to him. They’d cocooned themselves again, blocking out the trouble and strife of the rest of the world. For a few moments they’d considered taking the SUV out to the middle of a field and hiding away, but the whole country was on red alert and someone might have come snooping.
Jack was asleep, but Ianto wasn’t. He didn’t want to miss this moment. He stroked Jack’s face and drunk him in: the jawline, the perfect teeth, wonderful, beautiful skin and that calm, smooth expression that he never wore while awake. Sometimes he didn’t wear it asleep, either.
The memories that resurface after being retconned away stay at the front of the mind for days. What a person was thinking or feeling then becomes what they think and feel now – and that scared Ianto. He could clearly see his memories of Jack – the Jack he adored. He could see him in his mind’s eye and feel the love and respect and need that he had for him. But that Jack and those feelings were sometimes locked in his memory. He had looked at Jack a few times, and felt like it was in the way he had looked at Jack all that time ago. Sometimes, he had looked long and hard at Jack - and he had hated him.
Ianto was conflicted, to say the least. He should tell Jack - wake him and tell him that he adored him and hated him; that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make love to him or kill him. He knew that once his brain had had a rethink and stored the memories away in their proper place rather than them being current, these awful feelings would go away. He could get back to normal. He could pretend for now that nothing was wrong. It wasn’t too difficult. He’d figured out that his brain knew what thoughts should happen when, and when he was in bed with Jack he felt the way he should, not shying away from his touch like he had done a few times now.
Ianto was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep. The memories were still at the front of his mind: Evan, the man in the awful khaki, and his meat cleaver – so close to his throat. It scratched away enough layers of skin to make his neck bleed. Time do die, he had thought. He already thought he was dead, anyway. He was just going to another level of Hell.
The nightmares were getting better, though. Fading. Sinking into the back of his brain where they were supposed to have been for over a year. He still didn’t want them haunting him while Jack was there, though.
The only part of Ianto’s body that was touching Jack at the moment was his hand. Experimentally, he put his head on his shoulder. He felt that fuzzy warmth, and thanked Christ his brain was still behaving. He closed his eyes and massaged small circles on to Jack’s stomach, kissing his neck and pulling his body closer.
“I was starting to think something was wrong.” Said Jack, still with his eyes closed but smiling.
“I thought you were asleep.” Ianto muttered into his neck.
“I was waiting for you to fall asleep first.” He replied, turning on his side and put an arm over him. He had opened his eyes and was smiling to him.
Ianto looked into the cool blue, and felt that uncertain twinge. It was a helluva lot duller now. More a teeny tiny pin prick instead of a knife in his back. He turned away, and let Jack spoon into his back, allowing himself to be pulled into a firm embrace. He felt Jack’s lips on the back of his neck and the pillow moved a little as Jack snuggled back down. Even though they had all the room of Ianto’s Superking sized bed, they still held each other tightly in the middle of it while they slept.
Half an hour later and Ianto let himself drift off. He was too emotionally drained and physically exhausted to stay awake. He smiled to himself, thinking about the day they’d had. Really, it had been awful. The worst part for Ianto, though, was knowing that everything was fine and sorted and things could eventually be normal again ... but being secretly terrified that Jack might not come back. Jack was with his Doctor. His clever, brilliant Doctor with a Time Machine that could take him home and never bring him back. His clever, brilliant Doctor with a Time Machine who also happened to be very attractive.
Turned out Jack had rather hyped him up, though. Yes he’d saved the planet and the human race and taken the earth – as well as 26 other planets – back to where it belonged. He could tell you the exact location to the millimetre where the planet should have been; his knowledge of where Cardiff was on the planet, however, was a little rusty. Jack, Martha and someone called Mickey had ended up in a bit of a pickle, and Ianto had laughed with relief at the disgruntled texts he’d received:
“Doctor dropped us off in Calais instead of Cardiff. Could you pick us up in the jet? I want to impress Mickey the Idiot. J xxx”
“OK OK I kinda knew the jet wasn’t gonna happen. Currently tryna persuade Martha to sell her body for a Eurostar train ticket. J xxx”
“Honestly trying to get back, Ianto. We have no money, so may have to hitch hike. Please bear in mind I could be home now if you’d just bring the jet. J xxx”
“I don’t like being trapped in France. It’d be better if you were here. Maybe you could hop in Myfanwy 2 and come and visit? J xxx”
“Martha’s mum bought us plane tickets. Pick me up from the airport? :(”
Ianto felt safe and warm in Jack’s arms again. It had been strange knowing how he felt about someone and not feeling it. He was happy now. Perfectly happy, and feeling alive. Speaking of feeling .... was that a gentle but insistent prodding in his lower back?
“Eugh!” groaned Ianto. “You’re such a pain in the bloody neck!”
He felt Jack’s laugh rumble through his chest and into his back. “Where abouts on your neck?”
“There.” Ianto pointed at the spot just below and behind his ear where he loved to be kissed. Jack’s lips pressed gently against his skin, and he felt that familiar tingle. “Oh no!” he gasped, out loud. “Oh, Jack!”
“What?” asked Jack. He sounded worried.
“The pain ... I think it’s moved to the front of my shoulder!”
Jack laughed and trailed kisses from his ear to where Ianto was pointing. Ianto turned in Jack’s arms slightly, making it easier.
“Did I get it?” asked Jack.
“It’s not as bad ... but it’s moving again ...”
“Where?”
“Lower. To my chest.”
Jack moved Ianto onto his back, lying on top of him as that he could kiss his chest and flick a tongue over his nipple. Ianto closed his eyes in satisfaction, and when Jack stopped smiled to himself. “It’s gone lower ... just ... keep going ... I’ll direct you ...”
Disappearing under the covers, Jack was kissing his stomach and flicking his tongue over the tingling, sensitive, pale skin.
“Lower ... lower ... lower ...” directed Ianto. “... lower ... lower ... up a bit ... a little to the left ... ah!” he gasped as Jack’s mouth touched his cock, and moaned as he felt that hot, clever tongue teasing him. He bent his knees, keeping Jack between his legs, to make it easier for Jack to finger him. Ianto put a lazy hand in his hair, feeling the co-ordination of Jack’s head in relation to his own pleasure.
He mouthed the words silently: “Rwy'n dy garu di, cariad. Rwy’n dy garu di. Ti yw fy nghariad i. cei 'm a dwi eiddo ...”*
~*~*~*~
“I’m not getting in.” He said, crossing his arms and scowling at the sleek, black nose of the Bloody Jet.
“Please, Ianto.” Begged Jack. “Just a quick spin. Before we have to cart her off.”
“No.”
“You’ll love it. You know you will.”
“It doesn’t matter. We can’t afford her. It. That!”
Jack seemed to perk up at that. He leaned in to his ear, smirking with a predatory glint in his eye. “Liar.” He whispered.
Ianto shivered. Shit.
“We still have unlimited funding. I checked with Whitehall ... You lied to me.”
A strong arm grasped Ianto round his waist, making escape looking less and less like an option. “We have limited funding on unnecessary Batman props.” He retorted, trying to pull away but finding another arm crushing him closer to his Captain. Jack moved, turning them both slightly, and Ianto found his back being pressed into one of the metal pipes that supported the wings. Jack was in front of him now, arms around him and hands clasping the pole and squeezing their bodies together.
They were eye to eye. Jack’s were lustful – Ianto’s were quite bored. “We’re not having plane sex.” Ianto informed him.
~*~*~*~
The world felt good. Ianto’s head had finally sorted and filed away the Brecon memories where they belonged, and Jack wouldn’t have to be any the wiser. Gwen had gone home to Rhys, Jack was wandering around naked somewhere and Janet was wearing a dress.
Ianto froze. He doubled back past Janet’s cell, unashamedly staring with his mouth open at the sight of the Weevil stood in the center of the unit in the pink meringue dress. Ianto’s brow furrowed in confusion, his jaw still on the floor. He looked to his left and right, as if the answer might be written in mid air there. Turning back to Janet, he saw she’d moved her pink-drowned arms a little, revealing a white piece of card on a bit of string around her neck. “Please let Jacky keeps the jet, Yantoes.” It declared.
“You know, a more fitting sign would have been ‘get me the Hell out of this god awful dress your sick and twisted boyfriend put me in.’” Ianto told her. She made a low moan, as if she understood and wished that’s what the sign really said and succumbed to the tranquilizer gas that was drifting towards her.
~*~*~*~
Jack stared dumbly at the e-mail. The e-mail from Ianto.
To: captainjackattack@hotmail.co.uk
From: ianto_jones@hotmail.co.uk
Subject: Get rid of the plane or else:
Jack –
You will not be partaking in any sexual acts with me until the jet is gone.
In the mean time, as I am not totally evil, you may think of me when you wank.
Ianto.
P.S.: Please only jerk off in the shower. Showers clean as well as stimulate. Thanks.
~*~*~*~
Jack couldn’t concentrate. Eleven days. Eleven days. Eleven days.
He glanced at the clock.
Eleven and a half days. Eleven and a half days. Eleven and a half d – fuck it. His libido was in charge now. He was prepared to do anything – anything – just to get Ianto to make him come. Or maybe even just touch him. A hug might be nice.
Ianto was evil, he’d decided. He’d only properly realised that this morning, though, when Ianto had positioned the mirror in his room to reflect a perfect view of the shower when viewed from the bed. Ianto had been in said shower. Naked. Stroking his big, hard cock and moaning Jack’s name.
‘He needs help with that erection, Jack.’ said a voice in his head. Too right he does, he agreed to himself. He moved to get up, but a harsh tug on his wrists and a painful clink of metal told him a pair of handcuffs and an evil young Welshman thought otherwise.
Jack hissed and growled, calling for Ianto, but if anything that just spurred Ianto on. Jack couldn’t even touch himself, and his cock was hating him. He closed his eyes, but he could still hear the shower ... still hear Ianto moaning his name, describing what he was imagining Jack doing to him.
At this moment, Jack was making his way down to the Archives. He had a pretty good idea how the top couple of levels were set out, so he decided to do a quick search. He noticed a strip of light poking out through under the door of his Jet’s bedroom. He stopped and stared. What was Ianto doing to Myfanwy?
He barraged through the door, and stopped, almost in shock. Ianto had been expecting him. No ... Ianto had been waiting for him. Ianto had been waiting for him ... in full UNIT uniform ...
If Jack was thirteen, he’d have come in his pants.
He looked beyond delicious. The black boots, the black combats, the belt, the jacket that made his shoulders seem even broader. The red cap. The Red Cap.
Jack stared. He looked so commandeering ... so masculine ... so ... fuckable.
Ianto was stood, with his hands behind his back, facing away from Jack and looking up at the jet. He probably didn’t realise how he, stood in that stance in militia uniform gazing at planes mirrored himself only a few months ago, waiting at an airport for his young partner’s return.
“She really has to go, Jack.” Said Ianto. “I just can’t trust you with her. You’re too ... free ...”
“Free?”
“You’ll get a taste for it. Flying. Up in the sky, where gravity isn’t an issue and you can go anywhere you want and no one can stop you. That’s the real reason you wanted her to start with. Knowing you’ll get a taste for it and you’ll love it and one day you just won’t come back.”
“I would. Always.” Said Jack, still staring at the uniform. Ianto still hadn’t looked at him.
Ianto cleared his throat loudly, and turned to him abruptly in a very militia-style. “I’ve come to a decision.” He declared. “Either the plane goes ... or this uniform do-”
“Plane goes!” Jack practically shouted, cutting him off. Ianto quirked a smile, and began to climb the ladder leading up to the wing. He gave Jack a suggestive look from about half way up, and Jack more than eagerly got the message and followed.
~*~*~*~
Jack felt like a huge weight had been lifted. His libido was in check, finally, and the Rift and his employees were behaving themselves. Myfanwy 2 had been sold for a handsome price as scrap metal – it had been too hi-tech to remain intact – and part of the money they’d got for it Ianto had budgeted for Jack to spend on their love life. Anything Jack wanted. Dildo, dongs, vibrators, strawberry scented duct-tape, uniforms: anything.
So far Jack had ordered some melting chocolate from Hotel Chocolat, some new snuggles pyjamas and reserved a table in one of the posh restaurants Gwen had mentioned Rhys taking her to while Ianto listened wistfully. ‘How very exciting, Jack’ whispered his libido. ‘If you’re feeling adventurous, why not buy some bunny slippers, too?’
Jack trawled through sex toy websites, not really thinking too much of the stuff he found there. Pretty much everything he wanted to use with Ianto they already had safely stored in the Secure Archives. He was about to give up and buy a really big chocolate model of a champagne bottle when he saw it: “Remote Control Vibrating Anal Beads”.
Fook chocolate models of champagne bottles with zero alcohol content. Remote Control Vibrating Anal Beads! That’s what they needed! How had they ever coped without them?
Jack had literally just finished the online transaction when his phone started vibrating. He chuckled to himself, thinking of other contraptions that vibrated, but felt his blood run cold when he heard the panic and worry in Ianto’s voice.
“Jack? Jack, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Ghosts. Are they real?”
“No.”
“Oh. Right. Well ... maybe you should come over, then.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Lisa’s in my living room.”
FIN
DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUN!!
The Welsh means "I love you, sweetheart. I love you. You are my love. You have me and I am yours."
Updates may be a bit delayed over the next day or so. I'm starting work on a "First Time" fic. *shrugs* ... everyone else has one!
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Chapter: 43
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness.
Author:
a_silver_storyGenre Humour
Rating: R
Warnings: m.m
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Janet gets abused in the name of the Bloody Jet, and Ianto unleashes his secret weapon. (The innuendo was intended. This is me, after all.)
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
43 |
They were in Ianto’s bed, because Ianto had the comfier mattress, fluffier duvets and much, much more space. They’d made love twice now: Ianto relishing the sight of Jack coming undone below him, then letting him do the same to him. They’d cocooned themselves again, blocking out the trouble and strife of the rest of the world. For a few moments they’d considered taking the SUV out to the middle of a field and hiding away, but the whole country was on red alert and someone might have come snooping.
Jack was asleep, but Ianto wasn’t. He didn’t want to miss this moment. He stroked Jack’s face and drunk him in: the jawline, the perfect teeth, wonderful, beautiful skin and that calm, smooth expression that he never wore while awake. Sometimes he didn’t wear it asleep, either.
The memories that resurface after being retconned away stay at the front of the mind for days. What a person was thinking or feeling then becomes what they think and feel now – and that scared Ianto. He could clearly see his memories of Jack – the Jack he adored. He could see him in his mind’s eye and feel the love and respect and need that he had for him. But that Jack and those feelings were sometimes locked in his memory. He had looked at Jack a few times, and felt like it was in the way he had looked at Jack all that time ago. Sometimes, he had looked long and hard at Jack - and he had hated him.
Ianto was conflicted, to say the least. He should tell Jack - wake him and tell him that he adored him and hated him; that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make love to him or kill him. He knew that once his brain had had a rethink and stored the memories away in their proper place rather than them being current, these awful feelings would go away. He could get back to normal. He could pretend for now that nothing was wrong. It wasn’t too difficult. He’d figured out that his brain knew what thoughts should happen when, and when he was in bed with Jack he felt the way he should, not shying away from his touch like he had done a few times now.
Ianto was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep. The memories were still at the front of his mind: Evan, the man in the awful khaki, and his meat cleaver – so close to his throat. It scratched away enough layers of skin to make his neck bleed. Time do die, he had thought. He already thought he was dead, anyway. He was just going to another level of Hell.
The nightmares were getting better, though. Fading. Sinking into the back of his brain where they were supposed to have been for over a year. He still didn’t want them haunting him while Jack was there, though.
The only part of Ianto’s body that was touching Jack at the moment was his hand. Experimentally, he put his head on his shoulder. He felt that fuzzy warmth, and thanked Christ his brain was still behaving. He closed his eyes and massaged small circles on to Jack’s stomach, kissing his neck and pulling his body closer.
“I was starting to think something was wrong.” Said Jack, still with his eyes closed but smiling.
“I thought you were asleep.” Ianto muttered into his neck.
“I was waiting for you to fall asleep first.” He replied, turning on his side and put an arm over him. He had opened his eyes and was smiling to him.
Ianto looked into the cool blue, and felt that uncertain twinge. It was a helluva lot duller now. More a teeny tiny pin prick instead of a knife in his back. He turned away, and let Jack spoon into his back, allowing himself to be pulled into a firm embrace. He felt Jack’s lips on the back of his neck and the pillow moved a little as Jack snuggled back down. Even though they had all the room of Ianto’s Superking sized bed, they still held each other tightly in the middle of it while they slept.
Half an hour later and Ianto let himself drift off. He was too emotionally drained and physically exhausted to stay awake. He smiled to himself, thinking about the day they’d had. Really, it had been awful. The worst part for Ianto, though, was knowing that everything was fine and sorted and things could eventually be normal again ... but being secretly terrified that Jack might not come back. Jack was with his Doctor. His clever, brilliant Doctor with a Time Machine that could take him home and never bring him back. His clever, brilliant Doctor with a Time Machine who also happened to be very attractive.
Turned out Jack had rather hyped him up, though. Yes he’d saved the planet and the human race and taken the earth – as well as 26 other planets – back to where it belonged. He could tell you the exact location to the millimetre where the planet should have been; his knowledge of where Cardiff was on the planet, however, was a little rusty. Jack, Martha and someone called Mickey had ended up in a bit of a pickle, and Ianto had laughed with relief at the disgruntled texts he’d received:
“Doctor dropped us off in Calais instead of Cardiff. Could you pick us up in the jet? I want to impress Mickey the Idiot. J xxx”
“OK OK I kinda knew the jet wasn’t gonna happen. Currently tryna persuade Martha to sell her body for a Eurostar train ticket. J xxx”
“Honestly trying to get back, Ianto. We have no money, so may have to hitch hike. Please bear in mind I could be home now if you’d just bring the jet. J xxx”
“I don’t like being trapped in France. It’d be better if you were here. Maybe you could hop in Myfanwy 2 and come and visit? J xxx”
“Martha’s mum bought us plane tickets. Pick me up from the airport? :(”
Ianto felt safe and warm in Jack’s arms again. It had been strange knowing how he felt about someone and not feeling it. He was happy now. Perfectly happy, and feeling alive. Speaking of feeling .... was that a gentle but insistent prodding in his lower back?
“Eugh!” groaned Ianto. “You’re such a pain in the bloody neck!”
He felt Jack’s laugh rumble through his chest and into his back. “Where abouts on your neck?”
“There.” Ianto pointed at the spot just below and behind his ear where he loved to be kissed. Jack’s lips pressed gently against his skin, and he felt that familiar tingle. “Oh no!” he gasped, out loud. “Oh, Jack!”
“What?” asked Jack. He sounded worried.
“The pain ... I think it’s moved to the front of my shoulder!”
Jack laughed and trailed kisses from his ear to where Ianto was pointing. Ianto turned in Jack’s arms slightly, making it easier.
“Did I get it?” asked Jack.
“It’s not as bad ... but it’s moving again ...”
“Where?”
“Lower. To my chest.”
Jack moved Ianto onto his back, lying on top of him as that he could kiss his chest and flick a tongue over his nipple. Ianto closed his eyes in satisfaction, and when Jack stopped smiled to himself. “It’s gone lower ... just ... keep going ... I’ll direct you ...”
Disappearing under the covers, Jack was kissing his stomach and flicking his tongue over the tingling, sensitive, pale skin.
“Lower ... lower ... lower ...” directed Ianto. “... lower ... lower ... up a bit ... a little to the left ... ah!” he gasped as Jack’s mouth touched his cock, and moaned as he felt that hot, clever tongue teasing him. He bent his knees, keeping Jack between his legs, to make it easier for Jack to finger him. Ianto put a lazy hand in his hair, feeling the co-ordination of Jack’s head in relation to his own pleasure.
He mouthed the words silently: “Rwy'n dy garu di, cariad. Rwy’n dy garu di. Ti yw fy nghariad i. cei 'm a dwi eiddo ...”*
“I’m not getting in.” He said, crossing his arms and scowling at the sleek, black nose of the Bloody Jet.
“Please, Ianto.” Begged Jack. “Just a quick spin. Before we have to cart her off.”
“No.”
“You’ll love it. You know you will.”
“It doesn’t matter. We can’t afford her. It. That!”
Jack seemed to perk up at that. He leaned in to his ear, smirking with a predatory glint in his eye. “Liar.” He whispered.
Ianto shivered. Shit.
“We still have unlimited funding. I checked with Whitehall ... You lied to me.”
A strong arm grasped Ianto round his waist, making escape looking less and less like an option. “We have limited funding on unnecessary Batman props.” He retorted, trying to pull away but finding another arm crushing him closer to his Captain. Jack moved, turning them both slightly, and Ianto found his back being pressed into one of the metal pipes that supported the wings. Jack was in front of him now, arms around him and hands clasping the pole and squeezing their bodies together.
They were eye to eye. Jack’s were lustful – Ianto’s were quite bored. “We’re not having plane sex.” Ianto informed him.
The world felt good. Ianto’s head had finally sorted and filed away the Brecon memories where they belonged, and Jack wouldn’t have to be any the wiser. Gwen had gone home to Rhys, Jack was wandering around naked somewhere and Janet was wearing a dress.
Ianto froze. He doubled back past Janet’s cell, unashamedly staring with his mouth open at the sight of the Weevil stood in the center of the unit in the pink meringue dress. Ianto’s brow furrowed in confusion, his jaw still on the floor. He looked to his left and right, as if the answer might be written in mid air there. Turning back to Janet, he saw she’d moved her pink-drowned arms a little, revealing a white piece of card on a bit of string around her neck. “Please let Jacky keeps the jet, Yantoes.” It declared.
“You know, a more fitting sign would have been ‘get me the Hell out of this god awful dress your sick and twisted boyfriend put me in.’” Ianto told her. She made a low moan, as if she understood and wished that’s what the sign really said and succumbed to the tranquilizer gas that was drifting towards her.
Jack stared dumbly at the e-mail. The e-mail from Ianto.
To: captainjackattack@hotmail.co.uk
From: ianto_jones@hotmail.co.uk
Subject: Get rid of the plane or else:
Jack –
You will not be partaking in any sexual acts with me until the jet is gone.
In the mean time, as I am not totally evil, you may think of me when you wank.
Ianto.
P.S.: Please only jerk off in the shower. Showers clean as well as stimulate. Thanks.
Jack couldn’t concentrate. Eleven days. Eleven days. Eleven days.
He glanced at the clock.
Eleven and a half days. Eleven and a half days. Eleven and a half d – fuck it. His libido was in charge now. He was prepared to do anything – anything – just to get Ianto to make him come. Or maybe even just touch him. A hug might be nice.
Ianto was evil, he’d decided. He’d only properly realised that this morning, though, when Ianto had positioned the mirror in his room to reflect a perfect view of the shower when viewed from the bed. Ianto had been in said shower. Naked. Stroking his big, hard cock and moaning Jack’s name.
‘He needs help with that erection, Jack.’ said a voice in his head. Too right he does, he agreed to himself. He moved to get up, but a harsh tug on his wrists and a painful clink of metal told him a pair of handcuffs and an evil young Welshman thought otherwise.
Jack hissed and growled, calling for Ianto, but if anything that just spurred Ianto on. Jack couldn’t even touch himself, and his cock was hating him. He closed his eyes, but he could still hear the shower ... still hear Ianto moaning his name, describing what he was imagining Jack doing to him.
At this moment, Jack was making his way down to the Archives. He had a pretty good idea how the top couple of levels were set out, so he decided to do a quick search. He noticed a strip of light poking out through under the door of his Jet’s bedroom. He stopped and stared. What was Ianto doing to Myfanwy?
He barraged through the door, and stopped, almost in shock. Ianto had been expecting him. No ... Ianto had been waiting for him. Ianto had been waiting for him ... in full UNIT uniform ...
If Jack was thirteen, he’d have come in his pants.
He looked beyond delicious. The black boots, the black combats, the belt, the jacket that made his shoulders seem even broader. The red cap. The Red Cap.
Jack stared. He looked so commandeering ... so masculine ... so ... fuckable.
Ianto was stood, with his hands behind his back, facing away from Jack and looking up at the jet. He probably didn’t realise how he, stood in that stance in militia uniform gazing at planes mirrored himself only a few months ago, waiting at an airport for his young partner’s return.
“She really has to go, Jack.” Said Ianto. “I just can’t trust you with her. You’re too ... free ...”
“Free?”
“You’ll get a taste for it. Flying. Up in the sky, where gravity isn’t an issue and you can go anywhere you want and no one can stop you. That’s the real reason you wanted her to start with. Knowing you’ll get a taste for it and you’ll love it and one day you just won’t come back.”
“I would. Always.” Said Jack, still staring at the uniform. Ianto still hadn’t looked at him.
Ianto cleared his throat loudly, and turned to him abruptly in a very militia-style. “I’ve come to a decision.” He declared. “Either the plane goes ... or this uniform do-”
“Plane goes!” Jack practically shouted, cutting him off. Ianto quirked a smile, and began to climb the ladder leading up to the wing. He gave Jack a suggestive look from about half way up, and Jack more than eagerly got the message and followed.
Jack felt like a huge weight had been lifted. His libido was in check, finally, and the Rift and his employees were behaving themselves. Myfanwy 2 had been sold for a handsome price as scrap metal – it had been too hi-tech to remain intact – and part of the money they’d got for it Ianto had budgeted for Jack to spend on their love life. Anything Jack wanted. Dildo, dongs, vibrators, strawberry scented duct-tape, uniforms: anything.
So far Jack had ordered some melting chocolate from Hotel Chocolat, some new snuggles pyjamas and reserved a table in one of the posh restaurants Gwen had mentioned Rhys taking her to while Ianto listened wistfully. ‘How very exciting, Jack’ whispered his libido. ‘If you’re feeling adventurous, why not buy some bunny slippers, too?’
Jack trawled through sex toy websites, not really thinking too much of the stuff he found there. Pretty much everything he wanted to use with Ianto they already had safely stored in the Secure Archives. He was about to give up and buy a really big chocolate model of a champagne bottle when he saw it: “Remote Control Vibrating Anal Beads”.
Fook chocolate models of champagne bottles with zero alcohol content. Remote Control Vibrating Anal Beads! That’s what they needed! How had they ever coped without them?
Jack had literally just finished the online transaction when his phone started vibrating. He chuckled to himself, thinking of other contraptions that vibrated, but felt his blood run cold when he heard the panic and worry in Ianto’s voice.
“Jack? Jack, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Ghosts. Are they real?”
“No.”
“Oh. Right. Well ... maybe you should come over, then.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Lisa’s in my living room.”
FIN
The Welsh means "I love you, sweetheart. I love you. You are my love. You have me and I am yours."
Updates may be a bit delayed over the next day or so. I'm starting work on a "First Time" fic. *shrugs* ... everyone else has one!
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Though I loved Janet in a dress and Ianto's ultimatum of the jet or the uniform.
Nicole
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What's going on now?
I will read whatever you write, but it's going to be a nail-biter waiting.
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“I’ve come to a decision.” He declared. “Either the plane goes ... or this uniform do-”
Well that was a no brainer, wasn't it?
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First you had me crying over the last one, then you provided goodness, now the ghost of *Lisa*??? Lisa Lisa or cyber-Lisa? ARRRGH!
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I LOL'd at the image of Janet in a pink dress! And squeed at the image of Ianto in the full UNIT uniform.....
And that last bit? Hmm......
So looking forward to the next part...
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*whimpers*
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Lisa? WAAAAAAAAAAT? I'm liking and dreading this twist. Can't wait to see what happens.
Also Ianto is a smart cookie oh yes he is.
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silken :)
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Still...Bloody brilliant. xD!
The picture of Janet in a dress will keep me laughing for weeks! xD
xxx
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OMG creepy ending!
Looking forward to the rest and the first time fic (I haven't got one though :P )
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You leave us with Lisa in Ianto's flat, and you're not going to update for a few days. Booo. Hiss. :P
(just kidding)
This was a terrific part. I can just imagine Ianto in uniform. Yummy.
and the part with Jack tied to the bed and Ianto is the shower was just hot. (poor Jacky)
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And that's a hell of a dun-dun-dun!!!
Dammit, I'm away on a biology trip to the Lake District for the next three days D: D:
Thursday will call for a mega update :D
:) xx
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Haha Janet in a dress, that image will stay in my mind longer then i want!
Not as long as the Ianto-in-unit-uniform will be though :D
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Can't wait to read your 'first time' fic. :)
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can't wait!