Silver Service by a_silver_story | 21
Oct. 24th, 2009 03:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_silver_storyTitle: Silver Service
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
a_silver_story
Chapter: 21/?
Genre: AU, Romance, Angsty, fluffy
Rating: NC17 / 18
Pairings: Main Pairing is Jack/Ianto. Also includes Ianto/Martha, Ianto/Tosh friendship, Ten/Tosh, Mickey/Martha (mentioned)
Warnings: M.M, rentboy!Ianto, Alternate Universe
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. Now pass the retcon ...
Summary: Started as a PWP, but since it's me (sorry folks!) and I really can't do things by halves, it grew and grew and grew (and not in an innuendous sort of way). Doctor Smith owns a posh Cardiff hotel, and the respectable Sixth Earl of Boeshane is coming to stay - and he brings with him some very specific demands.
The story follows Ianto from being born, meeting Toshiko and them running away together to the city, right up until Ianto is taken to work in the Doctor's hotel as a 'service' butler for - you guessed it - Jack.
Everyone's fave OTP ensues. BOO YA!
Torchwood Index/Masterlist
FIRST PART | Chapter 1
Pulling the covers over his head, Ianto ignored the sound of the shower, the steady beat of water on porcelain, occasionally interrupted by Lisa moving herself under the spray or adjusting the water pressure. Ianto was just considering whether or not he should go and join her when the sounds of the cascade stopped and the bathroom door clicked open. He could hear her padding around, and pulled the duvet down a little way so that his eyes peeked over the top.
“Morning.” she smiled, combing her damp hair and crossing to the bedside cabinet to fetch her deodorants. Ianto pulled the covers back over his head playfully, and burrowed further into his warm cocoon of cotton and down. “Oi!” he heard Lisa grin. “You need to get up, mister.”
He peeked his eyes over the duvet again, and when she glanced over at him pulled it back over his head with a cheeky laugh. He felt the covers move and the mattress dip as Lisa crawled under the covers to join him, still damp from her shower. “Five minutes,” she waggled her finger jokingly. “and you have to get up. Okay?”
“Oh-kay.” he pouted sullenly, and she grinned and kissed his bottom lip. Scooping her up into his arms, he lay her down on her back and pinned her to the bed below him, the covers creating a tent around them as she laughed and groaned. Agonisingly slowly, Ianto pulled the towel wrapped around her aside and rested with an elbow either side of her head to kiss her. “This may take longer than five minutes ...” he muttered into the skin of her neck.
“You’re worse than a teenager ...” she sighed in reply, stroking his hair as he nuzzled, kissed and flicked his tongue against the sensitive skin below her ear. He began to work his way lower and she forced herself to be annoyed. “Ianto!” she chastised. “You’re going to make us both late. And it’s my first day!”
“Start as you mean to go on.” he shrugged, taking a jibe at her appalling time-keeping skills. She batted his shoulder.
“Geh’roff. And put that away!” she ordered, pointing at his erection. He pouted again and nudged her thigh with the hard flesh, and she bit her lip as she considered him for a moment. “They ... won’t mind if I go in with wet hair ... and I could do my make-up in the taxi ... oh how could I say no to those baby blues!” she laughed.
“Yay!” Ianto chirruped, resuming his work on her neck and savouring the strength of her thighs as they wrapped around him and wouldn’t let him go.
“Hurry up, Ianto. We need to be quick ... ah!” Lisa gasped as Ianto's tongue dipped inside her.
He raised his head, caught her eye and winked. “Anything worth doing is worth doing properly.”
“... or now?” she suggested, tugging his hair.
“Fine, fine.” he muttered, kissing his way back up her body at double speed, licking a nipple and finally nibbling at her earlobe, making her squirm. “You took your pill?”
Lisa sighed in exasperation. “I am perfectly capable of remembering to take my pill, Ianto. Now for God’s sake: do me already!”
“Y’know, anticipation is nine tenths of orgasm ...”
“Ianto!”
Their laughter subsided as Ianto gently pushed himself inside her, lowering his head and sighing into her neck. Her fingers ran through his already tousled hair, over his back and scratching into his shoulders as he began to move. “Faster ...” she gasped, her back arching as he gently thrust into her. In frustration she flipped them, the duvet falling from the bed onto the floor, and pinned his arms above his head as she rode him. He bucked up to meet her and match her rhythm, feeling her tense and tighten around him, head thrown back as she came.
He lay her down again, and thrust to his own rhythm until he found his release.
Lisa left his to his afterglow as she got up to get dressed hurriedly. Ready to go, she knelt by him on the bed and missed his temple. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” she smiled. “But ... get up. You’ve got to be at work in twenty minutes, and you know what you’re like for procrastinating in the morning ...”
“It doesn’t help you’re here to give me things to procrastinate over ...” he smiled as she hurried away. “Have a good day!” he called.
“You too!” she replied, and the front door swung shut behind her.
With a heavy sigh he dragged himself out of bed, flipped the day on the calendar and grinned. The fifth of June.
Jack.
He hadn’t told Lisa he was coming, and he had a feeling Jack would know that. Today, Lisa would be at work until five, spend an hour or so at home then wander down to a late-night protest and demonstration bonfire she’d been invited to. She wouldn’t be back until three in the morning, and Jack would be long gone by then. It all depended on him not arriving during the one hour window that evening when Lisa would be in. Ianto knew the guilt would eat away at him, and he would tell Lisa eventually ... he just hoped she would understand.
Ianto checked his phone, his PDA and his email (after nearly throwing the laptop out of the window for refusing to take his password again) and found no word from Jack – not that Jack had his new phone number, and nor had he ever emailed. Jack liked the letters, and Ianto did too. They gave him something small to look forward to.
After a lightning-speed shower, roughly towel dried hair and two minutes of deliberation, he decided to put on his new suit; deep purple shirt, black waistcoat, trousers and jacket with shiny new dress shoes. The buttons were all specially made, with the little songbird embossed on each one that seemed to crop up as the official seal of everything at Hillcrest. Even Ianto had a stamp to but on the bottom of his letters and correspondence to give certainty of where it came from. Jack didn’t have a stamp; Jack had a seal with wax and brass.
God, he couldn’t wait to see Jack.
Teasing his hair into something more presentable, Ianto finally sprayed himself with a little body spray, grabbed his keys, straightened his tie and walked out the door of his little cottage. He sighed to himself when he saw that Lisa had left the gate open again, and gave a customary nod to the little gnome sat fishing by the pond in the garden. He had considered throwing the garish thing away, but when he’d lifted it to smash it so that it’d fit in the bin he’d found the words “Little Jack’s Nome” engraved into the back of its tunic in shaky writing. He put it back, despite Lisa’s distaste, and left him happily fishing in a fish-less pond.
He loved his cottage, and could hardly believe it was really his. It had no name – it was simply known as “the cottage on the grounds” – and Ianto had often wondered at that. It was a beautiful, cosy place, with a large back garden and two ponds. Inside there was enough room for a whole family, and now that he and Lisa had finally come to an agreement on redecorating, it would soon be thoroughly modern – but in a ‘rustic sort of way’ Lisa assured him.
Ianto couldn’t help but smile to himself when he thought of Lisa, which earnt him a couple of odd looks from Barbara when he walked into his office, grinning dopily. He checked his post, though he didn’t really expect anything from Jack, and sat down behind his desk to read over some of the more important looking letters.
“Coffee, sir?” asked Barbara, poking her head around the door.
He grinned. “Oo! Yes please.” He loved that Barbara had to call him ‘sir’ now.
Five minutes later she brought it through. “I ... was wondering if I could talk to you, sir?” she asked, sitting down on the chair opposite him without waiting for a reply.
“Go on.” he encouraged, sipping his coffee.
“The Earl is planning on visiting today, is he not?”
He raised an eyebrow, assuming Jack must have told her, because Ianto certainly had not. “Yes. And?”
“I was wondering why you didn’t tell anyone, sir.”
“Why?”
“Well ... how are we supposed to prepare for his arrival at such short notice?”
“He’s only staying for a few hours. It’s more of a ... personal visit.” He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze at it bored into him not the least bit accusatory.
“Of course.” she said eventually. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it, sir.”
Barbara rose quickly and strode out, closing the door gently behind her. Ianto put the letter he had been reading down with a heavy sigh and leant back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. The niggling feeling of guilt at the back of his mind intensified.
He argued to himself that he was doing nothing wrong – he belonged to Jack. But Lisa ... he belonged to Lisa in a different way. Jack had, in all intent and purpose, taken him and tried to subdue him. Lisa was the opposite pole, dancing around the flirting games and letting him come to her of his own free will.
She took care of him, even when he was pining after Jack.
Ianto didn’t lie to himself often, but he found himself giving several different reasons for not telling Lisa about Jack’s brief visit. What it came down to, however, was that he knew it was a betrayal. He would hurt her if she found out, and wouldn’t understand if he asked permission. His desk phone interrupted his train of thought, and he lifted the receiver to his ear, steeling himself for what would probably be a very boring conversation about hedge height or white daffodil to yellow daffodil ratios.
“Mr. Jones.” he said.
“Ianto!”
“Oh, hey Lisa. You’re ringing me at work?”
“Clearly.” she laughed.
“Well ... yeah. What’s wrong? Are you okay? How’s your first day at the shop going?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, and I’m having a lovely first day. Anyway, gotta be quick. I’ve found this gorgeous burgundy shirt in the men’s section and I wondered if you’d like me to put it aside for you.”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll ... drop by in my lunch hour. Shall I bring food?”
“Oo yes please! McDonald’s McDonald’s McDonald’s!”
“Okay.” he laughed. “Usual?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
“Bye bye bye.”
He replaced the receiver, smiling to himself and glancing up at the clock. Two and a half hours until lunch, he thought. He wondered idly when Jack would arrive, then crossed over to his cabinet to open the door and check his reflection. He bit his lip, and glanced over at his desk and the unread post, before opening a little hidden drawer he’d found in the cabinet and taking out the pendant Jack had sent him.
A caffeine molecule, he smiled to himself. Lisa had explained what they were as best she could, but even then he’d struggled with the concept. So she’d bought him a book about science, and he nearly kicked himself once everything clicked and he realised what a fairly simple model it was. He wished he could find a microscope powerful enough to see the particles and molecules, and Lisa had suggested travelling to the Science and Industry Museum in Manchester to see if they had anything like that there.
Ianto wondered if he should be wearing the pendant when Jack came. He held it gently, like something precious, and polished it with his sleeve for the thousandth time since he got it. He closed his eyes and pictured Jack stood next to him, imagined what it would feel like to have Jack’s hands around his neck, brushing fingers over his nape and fastening the cool metal in place.
His body stirred, and he hastily shoved the pendant in his pocket, reached for his keys and marched out the office.
“Sir?” called Barbara from her desk by his door.
“Need to ... check the white to yellow daffodil ratio. Make sure they flower to an acceptable ... ratio ... next year. Back in about ... forty minutes?”
“Yessir.”
He hurried downstairs, and power-walked the ten minutes to his cottage. He flung open the door and kicked it shut behind him, running up the stairs into his bedroom. Sitting down heavily on the bed, he put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes and face. Glancing up, his eyes were drawn to the carpet in the corner he’d loosed three weeks ago, and the lustful feeling he was trying to suppress flared up. His breathing already getting heavy and his groin stirring, he crawled over to it and peeled it back. Taking a moment to wonder at the usefulness of old-fashioned loose floorboards, he pulled the lid off a biscuit tin he’d hidden beneath one.
Switching off his phone and PDA, he reached down and pulled out his bottle of lube and the toy Jack had sent him. It was a hard dildo, about the size of Jack and flesh coloured, and when he finally remembered to get batteries it would vibrate. He set it with the lubricant on the bed carefully and began taking off his clothes, laying them on the back of the dressing chair like he used to do for Jack. Naked, he touched and played with himself as he walked to the bed, laying back on the pillows, feeling the soft cotton on his skin and between the fingers of the fist he’d curled into them as he slowly wanked until he was hard.
Jack always waited until he was hard before preparing him.
Ianto took some lube onto a finger and lay on his side, curling his legs up to his chest and reaching behind him to probe himself, trying to take his time but unable to stave off his need for more. He needed more gel, added a little, penetrating himself with another finger and stretching himself out.
‘Feel how wide I can stretch you ...’
Jack’s words from their first time echoed through his head and he groaned out loud, flicking his tongue out and touching the head of the toy where it lay next to him on the bed. The taste was ... it didn’t taste right. And it was cold. Withdrawing his fingers he picked it up, rolled onto his back and squeezed and rubbed it in his hands, spreading his legs and feeling the gel cooling on the skin around his opening. Sure he was ready and almost desperate, he drew his knees up to his chest and lowered the latex cock between his legs, stroking it over his entrance before pressing it up and inside himself.
Panting as it breached him, he kept pushing until he could take no more and held his breath as he savoured the penetration, missing being fucked like this. Ianto closed his eyes, wrapped the fingers of one hand around his cock and began to move the dildo in and out of his body, adjusting the angle and speed until he found both that he liked. He squeezed himself hard with the hand on his dick, using a little lubricant to create an easy motion to stroke himself in time with the other hand thrusting the dildo.
Eyes closed, he thought of Jack. Jack, with his beautiful smile and wicked bedroom manners. His powerful body, thrusting into Ianto's own with passion and lust. Big, hard and fast and everything Ianto wanted in his tight hole, gasping and writhing while Jack would chant his name ...
A knock on the door disturbed him, and he groaned. Whatever it was could wait, he decided, and began pleasuring himself again. In the back of his mind he knew he had to be done quick – he was supposed to be at work – but within himself he just wanted to take his time. He was getting close now, the movement of his hand gripping the toy becoming more erratic, drawing his knees up as high as he could, legs in the air and blood pounding in his ears. It never felt as good as when Jack did it, but it was good enough.
Ianto jumped and yelped as he felt big hands touching his thigh, covering the hand that had been working furiously between his legs. His eyes flew open, and he looked down himself in shock to see Jack crouched on the bed between his legs, smiling, asking permission. Ianto was too far gone to argue, removed his hands and moaned as Jack took over his body, moving the latex cock in and out of him at a much gentler, less frantic pace. Ianto came looking into his eyes, reaching down to touch Jack’s rugged and stubble-smattered face. Jack pulled the toy out of him, prising his arse apart and holding him open to watch the gape of his hole contract with parted lips and heavy breaths.
Ianto came back to himself and sat up quickly, reaching for a tissue and cleaning himself off. “I ... I wasn’t expecting you yet ...”
“Clearly.” Jack grinned with a look of amusement.
Ianto pulled on his clothes and Jack did very little to mask his disappointment, watching as Ianto's body was so unfairly hidden from him. Hidden from him, but donning an amazing suit. “You ... you look amazing, Ianto ...”
Ianto turned, and hesitated, as if seeing the Captain properly for the first time. He was unwashed and unkempt, stubble peppering his usually perfect skin and his eyes seemed dull having lost their sparkle. His clothes looked like they had been worn for a few days straight, rumpled and worn-looking. The coat, however, was the same as ever.
“You look ... tired.” Ianto eventually managed to say, sitting in the dressing chair and pulling it to sit opposite Jack, who had remained on the bed. “Are you ... are you alright?” he asked.
Jack smiled, but his eyes were still dull. “I’m fine, Ianto. Really. So ... so ... what have you been doing?” he asked awkwardly.
“Work ... um ... learning about my work. Thanks ... thanks for the job.” he replied, just as awkward. They fell quiet a moment.
“You’re ... okay? You look okay. Well ... you look like you’re fantastic, actually.” Jack asked.
Ianto gave a small laugh, leaning back in the chair and relaxing a little. “Everything ... everything’s fantastic. Pretty much ... except ... y’know ... well ... of course y-you ... you know.”
“Mmm ...” Jack agreed, and the awkward silence fell again.
“How was ... how was the wedding?”
“Boring.” smiled Jack. “And ... there were a couple of people there I don’t like. The bride and groom mainly.” Ianto laughed, and felt Jack’s eyes almost boring into him.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Why ... why did you ... why d-did you g-go? Why did you leave me?”
Their eyes met for a brief moment, pain-filled and hurt. They both averted their gaze, and Ianto remained silent as he waited for Jack to answer, playing with a cufflink.
“I ... I went and ... someone read my cards. And ... they made it clear.”
“Cards? Tarot cards?”
Jack didn’t reply.
“Fuck! You ... you placed our future with some ... some pretty cards and an insane gypsy who sounded like she vaguely knew what she was talking about?”
“Faith is never wrong.” Jack stated calmly.
“Yes, well a lot of sense tends to go out of the window where faiths are concerned.” Ianto snapped.
“Faith is her name.”
“I know, but my point seems to stand the same. Faith, women. Whatever. Tarot cards! Tarot cards!” Ianto paced and fumed. “I can’t believe ... for God’s sake! Y’know what, I’m glad you broke it off. At least I have Lisa now, even if our relationship is the by-product of a gypsy scam.”
“Ianto ...”
“What?”
“You’re ... just listen to me. Faith ... well, first of all Faith isn’t a gypsy. I’m not sure what she is. And second, she’s never, ever wrong.”
“Because she gave you cold, hard facts, or because you made her answers fit with what you wanted to hear?”
Jack sighed. “I don’t believe in the Tarot, Ianto.”
Ianto stopped, and turned on him. “So ... what the hell ...?”
“I believe in her cards, and her runes, and her stars. No one else can genuinely read them. Not like Faith. And ... her cards ... they’re ... well, look.” Jack reached into his greatcoat pocket and produced a piece of card about two by three inches, and Ianto examined the image with a frown.
He couldn’t read the font, but upon a yellow background stood a large tower with three arched windows graduated up the middle. There was no door. Two of the windows were shaded grey, and the third glowed orange. A man with dark hair, pale, almost pure white skin and donning a well-cut suit was leaning wistfully out of the window, shackles bound tight to his wrist. Ianto recognised it as a representation of himself, and a silhouette stood guard by the bottom of the tower could, most probably, have been Jack.
Handing it back to him, Ianto frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, that’s you in the towe-“
“I get that. I don’t understand ... why have you got that?”
“Faith gave it to me. I tried to make her keep it, but she said I’d have to show it to you.”
“Of course she did.” sighed Ianto. “So ... ‘Faith’ and her magic cards told you to leave me?”
Jack nearly bit his tongue with exasperation. “Look ... maybe ... right: it is ascertained that before we met, I was a bastard, yes?”
“Just before?” scowled Ianto, and mentally kicked himself when Jack winced. “Fine, yes. You were a bastard.”
“Well ... I ... there’s consequences. For everything. And ... I went so long without suffering the consequences that ... I didn’t deserve you, Ianto.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“Think about how happy you are here, and how much ... how unhappy I am.”
He folded his arms, still patient.
“I need to ... I need to make things right. I need to earn the right to ... to be with you again. I have to earn your love. In the meantime ... you’re happy with Lisa.”
“So ... when you’ve done ... repenting your sins, as it were, you’ll have me back again?”
Jack nodded.
“And ... if I don’t want to go back? What if ... what if I want my ‘mean time’ with Lisa to be more ... permanent?”
“Then ... that’s your choice.” Jack replied, biting his lip and looking away as if he couldn’t bear the thought of not being with Ianto ever again. “This is part of it. I tried to control you and own you. Now ... I had to leave you so that you could think clearly and ... consider your own choice. What you want.”
“Right now? I want ... I want ...”
“You don’t need to make any decisions now, Ianto.”
“So ... I get a choice. But only when you say I get a choice? Thanks, Jack. Really appreciate that.” He crossed to the bed and picked up his toy, walking purposefully into the en suite to clean it and distract himself.
“Look at me, Ianto.” Jack pleaded with him when he returned. Ianto put the toy and lubricant back in the box below the floorboards, and Jack tried to lighten the mood with a comment. “You like your loose floorboards, don’t you?” he smiled.
“I find them incredibly useful for hiding things from people I love.” Ianto snapped back, and Jack’s expression flicked back to being serious again.
“You didn’t have to keep it. And you asked where you could get one without people knowing.”
“I know ... I’m sorry ... I’m just .... Tarot cards, Jack!” He sat down heavily on the bed beside him and sighed. “So ... you left me to go ... make yourself a better person? Make yourself a better person then ... then I can choose whether or not I go back to you?”
“With me, not to me.” Jack corrected him. “You and me: equal pegging. Together. A proper couple.”
Ianto raised his eyes to meet Jack’s, and saw a flash of that old sparkle dance in them for a moment. “Properly?”
“Properly.” agreed Jack, taking Ianto's hand in his and brushing a stray hair away from his forehead. He cupped his cheek, and the overwhelming desire to kiss him tugged at his heart. Ianto seemed to have realised his intent, raising his chin slightly in invitation.
Finally, after so many months their lips touched and caressed, Jack clinging to Ianto's shoulders and waist, desperate for more contact. With a sharp breath and almost a jump, Ianto moved back away from him, breaking them apart.
“What’s wrong?” asked Jack.
“No ... no spark. Still no spark.” Ianto muttered, almost to himself. “I thought ... maybe time apart ... but ... no. No spark. I ... I don’t understand.” He turned to see Jack almost looking guilty. “What?”
“To save your life ... I told you, to save your life, I had to get the gauntlet. And ... they would only give me the gauntlet if I agreed to ... to this ...” He made a gesture to signify their situation. “I ... I had to trade your love for me to ... to get the gauntlet. And learn to be selfless.”
“That’s ... impossible. I ... no. You can’t ... you can’t trade love Jack! That’s ridiculous! I ... I told you my theory. In my letter.”
Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew a wad of envelopes, and Ianto recognised them as the ones he himself had sent to Jack. The Captain opened the first one and withdrew the letter, reading out aloud the relevant section.
“See,” said Ianto. “Far more sense ... the poison has messed up some of the chemicals in my brain. The ... the stimulants that I react to has ... altered. I still love you. I still ache for you. Just ... no spark.”
“Can you just ... take this with a pinch of salt? Go with it? Please? Just pretend to go with it, and look at it objectively, and ... and you’ll see how it fits together.”
Ianto sighed. “You can’t just frit away love.” he said quietly. “I can’t even pretend to believe that.”
Jack looked at him to see his eyes shining with tears. “Hey ... heyyyy ...” he muttered soothingly, rubbing circles on his back.
“I’m s-s-sorry ...” Ianto tried to hold the them back, closing his eyes and willing the tears to go away. He turned and hugged Jack tightly, and felt the return embrace comforting and safe. Jack held him until the tears subsided, then reached for a tissue from the bedside cabinet to wipe away his tears. He tried to kiss Ianto again, and Ianto reciprocated eagerly, roughly, and almost pulling at his clothes.
Jack couldn’t deny him, allowing his coat to be pushed back from his shoulders and the buttons of his shirt slipped from their holes. He buried his head in Ianto's neck, kissing and nipping and licking every inch of bare flesh he could find there.
“Wait ... stop ...” Ianto said, pushing him back. “This ... I don’t ... I don’t think I can do this ...”
Staring at him for a second, the Captain closed his mouth and sat back, fastening his shirt again, unable to look Ianto in the eye.
“All I can think of is Lisa. I don’t think ... I don’t think I can do this to her ... I think – in the future – I don’t think I should ... we ... I don’t think we should be alone together.”
“I’ll ... I’ll go then ...”
“No! No, don’t go!” Ianto gasped. “I mean ... in the future. Like ... for future reference. You’re ... you’re here now. Let’s ... let’s stick the telly on and ... we’ll enjoy each other’s company. I have missed you, Jack.”
Jack cheered up upon learning Ianto still wanted him there, still wanted his company. They went downstairs, and Ianto made some brunch while Jack relaxed by the telly, and made his best ever coffee just to please him. They ignored the television after a while, just chatting and laughing, having a little bit to drink.
“How did you know I was at the cottage anyway?” Ianto asked after what was his (possibly) fifth bottle of beer.
“I called at the house, Bridget said you’d gone to inspect the yellow to white daffodil radius.”
“Bridget?”
“You’re right, Janet just ... it didn’t seem right.”
“And Barbara?”
“Nope. Even ... wronger.” Jack narrowed his eyes drunkenly as he tried to figure out if ‘wronger’ was an actual word. It wasn’t.
“You’re silly, Jack. Just call her by her name.” smiled Ianto, reaching for an apple from the bowl on the table.
“Is that ... stuff from the ground?” Jack turned his nose up at it.
“Apples are from trees.”
“Trees are from the ground!” Jack reminded him. “I can’t believe you’re eating fruit! You should eat vegetables. Vegetables are good for you.”
“So’s fruit - and fruit’s sweeter. It’s like a treat you wish you hadn’t worked so hard to earn.”
Jack laughed, and put his bottle on the table. He glanced up at the clock. Half past four. Ianto followed his line of sight, and placed his bottle next to Jack’s.
“You need to go. Or hide away, for an hour at least.” Ianto suggested hopefully, but Jack just sighed heavily and gave him a regretful look.
“I’ve ... I’ve been here long enough.”
Ianto walked him to the garden gate, and noticed that Jack gave the little fishing gnome a nod out of habit, too. He smiled to himself, but didn’t mention it. Jack hugged him tight by the gate, and they swayed a little. “Remember when we danced to no music in the hotel in Cardiff?” he murmured into his ear. Ianto pulled away from him slowly.
“I do.” he smiled.
Jack bit his lip and awkwardly placed a kiss on Ianto's cheek. “Did you ... did you meant what you said? We ... we can’t be alone together again? Ever?”
“The arrangement will stand for now. Until future notice.” Ianto tried to smile gently, but his heart ached at Jack’s upset.
“Okay.” Jack agreed. “Oh! Nearly forgot! I got you a present from Pamukkale!” He rooted through his pockets until he found a little box, about an inch wide, an inch and a half tall.
Ianto took it, and opened it carefully. He gave a small laugh when he pulled out a pewter thimble, a strange goddess embossed on the side. “What ...?” he asked.
“It’s to keep your fingers safe from the dangers of small pricks.” grinned Jack.
“I bet you stayed awake all night thinking up that little piece of witticism.” smirked Ianto. Jack laughed, then turned to glance up at the big house, the windows gleaming in the summer evening sun.
“My driver’s at the house.” Jack told him. “I ... I have to go, don’t I?”
Ianto nodded. Jack sniffed, pretending to inhale the flower-scented air. “See you in August then?”
“See you in August.” smiled Ianto.
“You ... take care.”
“You too.”
“Think of me.”
“Every day.” Ianto promised.
Jack nodded, and without another word he set off back up to Hillcrest Manor, not looking back. Ianto followed suit, turning his back on Jack and shutting himself firmly back inside the house. He cleared up the beer bottles, trying to ignore the now eerie silence throughout the cottage and beginning to understand what Jack meant when he said it was ‘quiet’ without him there.
Lisa returned home, flustered and irritable, ten minutes after Ianto had finally sat down. He pretty much had decided to abandon work for that day the second Jack had appeared between his legs earlier. Dammit! Why hadn’t he had sex with Jack? He’d wanted it for so long, then simply pushed him off because ... because of Lisa ...
She wandered in, slamming doors and putting her bag heavily on the work surface in the kitchen.
“Okay?” he called through.
“Me? Ohh ... I’m fine. So glad you could take the time to stop and think of me!” she snapped. Ianto frowned, wondering what he had done. Or not done. Or almost, possibly, but not quite certainly may have the intention of doing. He got up from the couch and entered the kitchen, watching her hurriedly stabbing a microwave meal, nearly breaking the fork with the force she was doing it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Oh my God! You really have forgotten haven’t you?”
He blinked.
“What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” she asked. “Have I done something?”
“What? No! Just ... what did I forget?”
“Lunch!”
Ianto closed his eyes and bit his lip. McDonald’s with Lisa. Burgundy shirt. “Shit ... I ... I ... I never ... I never ...”
“You never usually forget. But you did. And all my new friends think you’re a total wanker. What happened, Ianto? Have ... have you been drinking?” she asked, smelling the alcohol on his breath. He bit his lip and turned away, sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and steeling himself. He could give her a half truth. A half truth that would get him out of trouble ... but ... well, it’s not like she wanted Jack in her life any more anyway ...
“Jack ... your dad ... dropped by unannounced earlier.”
Lisa froze, her eyes wide. The microwave comically pinged at this moment.
“We didn’t ... I didn’t have sex with him, if that’s what you’re thinking ...” he assured her. “I was ... I suppose I was shocked. After he left I ... had a bit of a drink.”
“Yeah ... okay ...” she turned to the microwave, sullen. “What ... what did he want?”
“To talk. To explain. He ... it doesn’t matter. He says he’ll only visit on prearranged date from now on. I told him ... I told him we shouldn’t be alone together.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
“And ... what did he say?”
“He regretfully agreed to it.”
“Just like that?” she asked, disbelieving.
“You didn’t see him, Lisa. He’s ... he’s the shadow of a man.” Ianto said quietly. “I’ve never seen him so ... low. And he was calm, and thoughtful. But ... dull. He’s lost his sparkle.”
“Dad did always seem to sparkle ...” Lisa smiled nostalgically. It was a little strange for Ianto to hear her call him ‘Dad’, but he was getting used to it.
“I’ll ... I promise to come to your work tomorrow so you can show me off to your friends like the overly-willing sex toy that I am.” he told her regretfully, trying not to sound like he was dreading it too much.
She gave a small laugh. “I’m sorry, love. I know you hate it when people stare at you ... but ... I just love showing you off!” she grinned, setting the microwave going again. “Especially if you wear something as sexy as that waistcoat with purple ... though I may have to make you try on the burgundy one in front of the other girls.”
“Er ... I don’t think so.”
“I do.”
“I really don’t.”
“If you loved me you’d do it.” she grinned slyly.
I huffed and scowled and she laughed and kissed his cheek. “Atta boi!” she smirked, strengthening her London accent and cupping his cheek. He stuck his tongue out at her.
“They can have one nipple.” he told her, moving to the coffee machine before she could attempt to make another cup of vile mud.
“Okay. I’ll compromise. Which nipple?”
“Which is your favourite?”
“Erm ... the right one.”
“Heyyy. What’s wrong with the leftie?”
“Nothing, I’m just right handed.” she rolled her eyes, something she’d been doing a lot more since she’d picked up the frequency of the trait from Ianto.
“I think the leftie is offended.” Ianto told her authoritatively, looking down his shirt. “He’s hidden away, look.”
“He’s not used to the attention. Stop staring at ‘im. You’ll make him shy.”
Ianto laughed and turned his attention back to the coffee machine, and the task of making coffee. Lisa walked up behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder.
He groaned. “Lisa!”
“What?” she smirked.
“You. Showing off that you’re taller than me. Not cool.”
“It so is. Look – I’m wearing flats and I’m taller than my boyfriend!”
“Oh haha.”
“You’re just annoyed because you’re short.”
“I’m not short. I’m above average height by an inch. You’re ... ginormous.”
Lisa folded her arms and scowled. “You callin’ me fat?”
“Shit! No! I was ... you’re really tall! You’re ... look at you! You’re beautiful and slim and sexy and everybody wishes they had your body. In fact ... if I was a woman ...”
“Alright, Welsh Man! I was joking!” she laughed as she watched him squirm.
“Oh ... I meant it though.” he said, turning a delicate shade of pink.
“I know, love. Ooo! I got you a present!” She hurried over to her bag, and pulled out a cufflink box. “I saw them in the shop ... and ... they’re you!” she grinned.
Ianto took the box from her and snapped the lid open. He glanced at the contents and laughed. “Brilliant!” he declared. Nestled comfortably in the box were a pair of cufflinks, the decorative side shaped like three coffee beans all in a row. He instantly began removing the cufflinks he was already wearing – bearing the little songbird that was the emblem of Hillcrest – and replaced them with the little silver beans. “I love them. I really do!” he beamed.
“Good.” she smiled. “Now, you and Mr. Rightie-Nipple had better make an appearance tomorrow. With a big bunch of flowers. And I mean big enough to sink a rowing boat. But don’t tell them I told you to bring them. ‘kay?”
“What kind of flowers does the lady demand?” he asked, pouring her coffee as she ate her microwave dinner from the plastic container it came in.
“Surprise me.”
“Surprise. Not shock?”
“Just surprise.” she assured him, popping a bit of ... Ianto couldn’t really tell what it was ... into her mouth. She yawned and covered her mouth before rubbing her eyes.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“You still gonna go to that demonstration bonfire thing tonight?” he asked, urging her to drink a little more coffee.
“I really should, Ianto.” she sighed. “Maybe I can sleep there ...”
“What? That’s not safe! What if ... what if you wake up in Marrakech or something?”
“How will I wake up in Marrakech?” she frowned.
“I dunno ... someone could kidnap you ... you get shoved on a plane ... wake up in Marrakech with no idea what’s happened, working for some pimp in a brothel with ...”
“Heyyy hey ... stop it. You’re ... you genuinely think that could ... oh. Sorry.” she mumbled when he gave her a pointed look. “But ... Marrakech? More likely Market Street.”
“Don’t joke about it! And it is possible to get you to Marrakech! I saw Derren Brown do it!”
Lisa grinned. “Awww Ianto. Only Derren Brown can do what Derren Brown does. I’m fairly certain he won’t be at the demonstration, or on the lookout for possible kidnapees. Besides; he wouldn’t come after me. He’s gay.”
“Is he? Oooo!”
“If you leave me for Derren Brown, I’m running away with your right nipple and never coming back.”
Ianto snorted into his coffee. “Tell you what: next time I’m in the office I’ll photocopy my right nipple. You can then have a hi-res photo of it on your phone for all eventualities.”
“Imagine Barbara walking in on you photocopying your nipple!” she laughed.
“Imagine me walking in on Barbara photocopying her nipple ...”
“EWWWWWWW! That’s it! No supper for you! You’ve been a very naughty boy!”
“Naughty enough to make you stay home and punish me?” he deadpanned, doing nothing more than raising his eyebrow. He knew Lisa loved what he could do with his eyebrows. He was starting to think maybe she had a kink for them.
“Hmmm ...” she considered. “I suppose it would save me trying to get plane tickets back from Marrakech ...”
“I’ll wait upstairs for you.” he grinned.
“I can’t be arsed with stairs, luv.” she winked.
She barely got her coffee mug and ready meal safely on the table before Ianto was wrapped around her. He was a little drunk and clumsy ... but ... yeah. She loved what he could do to her. Where he learnt it from ... that didn’t matter anymore.
Ianto was moving on, too. He was much happier, and she was falling more in love with him every day.
Later that night, when they finally made it to bed, and Ianto was lying next to Lisa, kissing her cheek, he draped an arm over her waist as they laughed together.
“I love you.” he told her, not for the first time, but for some reason, she felt there was more meaning behind it. “I love you more every day. And ... Jack coming here earlier ... made me realise that.”
Lisa smiled and kissed him.
“I could spend the rest of my life with you.” he whispered.
Ianto raised his head when Lisa didn’t answer.
“You ... you may have to clear that with my Dad first.” she muttered bitterly. She turned on her side. “Goodnight, Ianto.”
“Good ... G’night, Lisa.”
“Love you, Ianto.”
“Love you too, Lisa.”
“Love you too, Mr. Rightie-Nipple.”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “G'night, Nipple-Facist.”
~*~*~*~
Jack stood outside the cottage in the dark, not caring if he felt like a stalker. His heart ached when their laughter rippled through an open window.
Faith had predicted Jack would have to wait six years for Ianto. At some point in that time, Lisa would die a premature death.
He felt sick to his stomach, whatever was in it curdling, forcing its was up and he had to turn and vomit into a bush.
He was looking forward to the death of his own daughter.
He had never, in his long life, felt so disgusting.
FIN
Comments are love. And so is ice cream (even if it gives you a headache).
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Author:
a_silver_storyChapter: 21/?
Genre: AU, Romance, Angsty, fluffy
Rating: NC17 / 18
Pairings: Main Pairing is Jack/Ianto. Also includes Ianto/Martha, Ianto/Tosh friendship, Ten/Tosh, Mickey/Martha (mentioned)
Warnings: M.M, rentboy!Ianto, Alternate Universe
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. Now pass the retcon ...
Summary: Started as a PWP, but since it's me (sorry folks!) and I really can't do things by halves, it grew and grew and grew (and not in an innuendous sort of way). Doctor Smith owns a posh Cardiff hotel, and the respectable Sixth Earl of Boeshane is coming to stay - and he brings with him some very specific demands.
The story follows Ianto from being born, meeting Toshiko and them running away together to the city, right up until Ianto is taken to work in the Doctor's hotel as a 'service' butler for - you guessed it - Jack.
Everyone's fave OTP ensues. BOO YA!
Torchwood Index/Masterlist
FIRST PART | Chapter 1
Pulling the covers over his head, Ianto ignored the sound of the shower, the steady beat of water on porcelain, occasionally interrupted by Lisa moving herself under the spray or adjusting the water pressure. Ianto was just considering whether or not he should go and join her when the sounds of the cascade stopped and the bathroom door clicked open. He could hear her padding around, and pulled the duvet down a little way so that his eyes peeked over the top.
“Morning.” she smiled, combing her damp hair and crossing to the bedside cabinet to fetch her deodorants. Ianto pulled the covers back over his head playfully, and burrowed further into his warm cocoon of cotton and down. “Oi!” he heard Lisa grin. “You need to get up, mister.”
He peeked his eyes over the duvet again, and when she glanced over at him pulled it back over his head with a cheeky laugh. He felt the covers move and the mattress dip as Lisa crawled under the covers to join him, still damp from her shower. “Five minutes,” she waggled her finger jokingly. “and you have to get up. Okay?”
“Oh-kay.” he pouted sullenly, and she grinned and kissed his bottom lip. Scooping her up into his arms, he lay her down on her back and pinned her to the bed below him, the covers creating a tent around them as she laughed and groaned. Agonisingly slowly, Ianto pulled the towel wrapped around her aside and rested with an elbow either side of her head to kiss her. “This may take longer than five minutes ...” he muttered into the skin of her neck.
“You’re worse than a teenager ...” she sighed in reply, stroking his hair as he nuzzled, kissed and flicked his tongue against the sensitive skin below her ear. He began to work his way lower and she forced herself to be annoyed. “Ianto!” she chastised. “You’re going to make us both late. And it’s my first day!”
“Start as you mean to go on.” he shrugged, taking a jibe at her appalling time-keeping skills. She batted his shoulder.
“Geh’roff. And put that away!” she ordered, pointing at his erection. He pouted again and nudged her thigh with the hard flesh, and she bit her lip as she considered him for a moment. “They ... won’t mind if I go in with wet hair ... and I could do my make-up in the taxi ... oh how could I say no to those baby blues!” she laughed.
“Yay!” Ianto chirruped, resuming his work on her neck and savouring the strength of her thighs as they wrapped around him and wouldn’t let him go.
“Hurry up, Ianto. We need to be quick ... ah!” Lisa gasped as Ianto's tongue dipped inside her.
He raised his head, caught her eye and winked. “Anything worth doing is worth doing properly.”
“... or now?” she suggested, tugging his hair.
“Fine, fine.” he muttered, kissing his way back up her body at double speed, licking a nipple and finally nibbling at her earlobe, making her squirm. “You took your pill?”
Lisa sighed in exasperation. “I am perfectly capable of remembering to take my pill, Ianto. Now for God’s sake: do me already!”
“Y’know, anticipation is nine tenths of orgasm ...”
“Ianto!”
Their laughter subsided as Ianto gently pushed himself inside her, lowering his head and sighing into her neck. Her fingers ran through his already tousled hair, over his back and scratching into his shoulders as he began to move. “Faster ...” she gasped, her back arching as he gently thrust into her. In frustration she flipped them, the duvet falling from the bed onto the floor, and pinned his arms above his head as she rode him. He bucked up to meet her and match her rhythm, feeling her tense and tighten around him, head thrown back as she came.
He lay her down again, and thrust to his own rhythm until he found his release.
Lisa left his to his afterglow as she got up to get dressed hurriedly. Ready to go, she knelt by him on the bed and missed his temple. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” she smiled. “But ... get up. You’ve got to be at work in twenty minutes, and you know what you’re like for procrastinating in the morning ...”
“It doesn’t help you’re here to give me things to procrastinate over ...” he smiled as she hurried away. “Have a good day!” he called.
“You too!” she replied, and the front door swung shut behind her.
With a heavy sigh he dragged himself out of bed, flipped the day on the calendar and grinned. The fifth of June.
Jack.
He hadn’t told Lisa he was coming, and he had a feeling Jack would know that. Today, Lisa would be at work until five, spend an hour or so at home then wander down to a late-night protest and demonstration bonfire she’d been invited to. She wouldn’t be back until three in the morning, and Jack would be long gone by then. It all depended on him not arriving during the one hour window that evening when Lisa would be in. Ianto knew the guilt would eat away at him, and he would tell Lisa eventually ... he just hoped she would understand.
Ianto checked his phone, his PDA and his email (after nearly throwing the laptop out of the window for refusing to take his password again) and found no word from Jack – not that Jack had his new phone number, and nor had he ever emailed. Jack liked the letters, and Ianto did too. They gave him something small to look forward to.
After a lightning-speed shower, roughly towel dried hair and two minutes of deliberation, he decided to put on his new suit; deep purple shirt, black waistcoat, trousers and jacket with shiny new dress shoes. The buttons were all specially made, with the little songbird embossed on each one that seemed to crop up as the official seal of everything at Hillcrest. Even Ianto had a stamp to but on the bottom of his letters and correspondence to give certainty of where it came from. Jack didn’t have a stamp; Jack had a seal with wax and brass.
God, he couldn’t wait to see Jack.
Teasing his hair into something more presentable, Ianto finally sprayed himself with a little body spray, grabbed his keys, straightened his tie and walked out the door of his little cottage. He sighed to himself when he saw that Lisa had left the gate open again, and gave a customary nod to the little gnome sat fishing by the pond in the garden. He had considered throwing the garish thing away, but when he’d lifted it to smash it so that it’d fit in the bin he’d found the words “Little Jack’s Nome” engraved into the back of its tunic in shaky writing. He put it back, despite Lisa’s distaste, and left him happily fishing in a fish-less pond.
He loved his cottage, and could hardly believe it was really his. It had no name – it was simply known as “the cottage on the grounds” – and Ianto had often wondered at that. It was a beautiful, cosy place, with a large back garden and two ponds. Inside there was enough room for a whole family, and now that he and Lisa had finally come to an agreement on redecorating, it would soon be thoroughly modern – but in a ‘rustic sort of way’ Lisa assured him.
Ianto couldn’t help but smile to himself when he thought of Lisa, which earnt him a couple of odd looks from Barbara when he walked into his office, grinning dopily. He checked his post, though he didn’t really expect anything from Jack, and sat down behind his desk to read over some of the more important looking letters.
“Coffee, sir?” asked Barbara, poking her head around the door.
He grinned. “Oo! Yes please.” He loved that Barbara had to call him ‘sir’ now.
Five minutes later she brought it through. “I ... was wondering if I could talk to you, sir?” she asked, sitting down on the chair opposite him without waiting for a reply.
“Go on.” he encouraged, sipping his coffee.
“The Earl is planning on visiting today, is he not?”
He raised an eyebrow, assuming Jack must have told her, because Ianto certainly had not. “Yes. And?”
“I was wondering why you didn’t tell anyone, sir.”
“Why?”
“Well ... how are we supposed to prepare for his arrival at such short notice?”
“He’s only staying for a few hours. It’s more of a ... personal visit.” He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze at it bored into him not the least bit accusatory.
“Of course.” she said eventually. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it, sir.”
Barbara rose quickly and strode out, closing the door gently behind her. Ianto put the letter he had been reading down with a heavy sigh and leant back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. The niggling feeling of guilt at the back of his mind intensified.
He argued to himself that he was doing nothing wrong – he belonged to Jack. But Lisa ... he belonged to Lisa in a different way. Jack had, in all intent and purpose, taken him and tried to subdue him. Lisa was the opposite pole, dancing around the flirting games and letting him come to her of his own free will.
She took care of him, even when he was pining after Jack.
Ianto didn’t lie to himself often, but he found himself giving several different reasons for not telling Lisa about Jack’s brief visit. What it came down to, however, was that he knew it was a betrayal. He would hurt her if she found out, and wouldn’t understand if he asked permission. His desk phone interrupted his train of thought, and he lifted the receiver to his ear, steeling himself for what would probably be a very boring conversation about hedge height or white daffodil to yellow daffodil ratios.
“Mr. Jones.” he said.
“Ianto!”
“Oh, hey Lisa. You’re ringing me at work?”
“Clearly.” she laughed.
“Well ... yeah. What’s wrong? Are you okay? How’s your first day at the shop going?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, and I’m having a lovely first day. Anyway, gotta be quick. I’ve found this gorgeous burgundy shirt in the men’s section and I wondered if you’d like me to put it aside for you.”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll ... drop by in my lunch hour. Shall I bring food?”
“Oo yes please! McDonald’s McDonald’s McDonald’s!”
“Okay.” he laughed. “Usual?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
“Bye bye bye.”
He replaced the receiver, smiling to himself and glancing up at the clock. Two and a half hours until lunch, he thought. He wondered idly when Jack would arrive, then crossed over to his cabinet to open the door and check his reflection. He bit his lip, and glanced over at his desk and the unread post, before opening a little hidden drawer he’d found in the cabinet and taking out the pendant Jack had sent him.
A caffeine molecule, he smiled to himself. Lisa had explained what they were as best she could, but even then he’d struggled with the concept. So she’d bought him a book about science, and he nearly kicked himself once everything clicked and he realised what a fairly simple model it was. He wished he could find a microscope powerful enough to see the particles and molecules, and Lisa had suggested travelling to the Science and Industry Museum in Manchester to see if they had anything like that there.
Ianto wondered if he should be wearing the pendant when Jack came. He held it gently, like something precious, and polished it with his sleeve for the thousandth time since he got it. He closed his eyes and pictured Jack stood next to him, imagined what it would feel like to have Jack’s hands around his neck, brushing fingers over his nape and fastening the cool metal in place.
His body stirred, and he hastily shoved the pendant in his pocket, reached for his keys and marched out the office.
“Sir?” called Barbara from her desk by his door.
“Need to ... check the white to yellow daffodil ratio. Make sure they flower to an acceptable ... ratio ... next year. Back in about ... forty minutes?”
“Yessir.”
He hurried downstairs, and power-walked the ten minutes to his cottage. He flung open the door and kicked it shut behind him, running up the stairs into his bedroom. Sitting down heavily on the bed, he put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes and face. Glancing up, his eyes were drawn to the carpet in the corner he’d loosed three weeks ago, and the lustful feeling he was trying to suppress flared up. His breathing already getting heavy and his groin stirring, he crawled over to it and peeled it back. Taking a moment to wonder at the usefulness of old-fashioned loose floorboards, he pulled the lid off a biscuit tin he’d hidden beneath one.
Switching off his phone and PDA, he reached down and pulled out his bottle of lube and the toy Jack had sent him. It was a hard dildo, about the size of Jack and flesh coloured, and when he finally remembered to get batteries it would vibrate. He set it with the lubricant on the bed carefully and began taking off his clothes, laying them on the back of the dressing chair like he used to do for Jack. Naked, he touched and played with himself as he walked to the bed, laying back on the pillows, feeling the soft cotton on his skin and between the fingers of the fist he’d curled into them as he slowly wanked until he was hard.
Jack always waited until he was hard before preparing him.
Ianto took some lube onto a finger and lay on his side, curling his legs up to his chest and reaching behind him to probe himself, trying to take his time but unable to stave off his need for more. He needed more gel, added a little, penetrating himself with another finger and stretching himself out.
‘Feel how wide I can stretch you ...’
Jack’s words from their first time echoed through his head and he groaned out loud, flicking his tongue out and touching the head of the toy where it lay next to him on the bed. The taste was ... it didn’t taste right. And it was cold. Withdrawing his fingers he picked it up, rolled onto his back and squeezed and rubbed it in his hands, spreading his legs and feeling the gel cooling on the skin around his opening. Sure he was ready and almost desperate, he drew his knees up to his chest and lowered the latex cock between his legs, stroking it over his entrance before pressing it up and inside himself.
Panting as it breached him, he kept pushing until he could take no more and held his breath as he savoured the penetration, missing being fucked like this. Ianto closed his eyes, wrapped the fingers of one hand around his cock and began to move the dildo in and out of his body, adjusting the angle and speed until he found both that he liked. He squeezed himself hard with the hand on his dick, using a little lubricant to create an easy motion to stroke himself in time with the other hand thrusting the dildo.
Eyes closed, he thought of Jack. Jack, with his beautiful smile and wicked bedroom manners. His powerful body, thrusting into Ianto's own with passion and lust. Big, hard and fast and everything Ianto wanted in his tight hole, gasping and writhing while Jack would chant his name ...
A knock on the door disturbed him, and he groaned. Whatever it was could wait, he decided, and began pleasuring himself again. In the back of his mind he knew he had to be done quick – he was supposed to be at work – but within himself he just wanted to take his time. He was getting close now, the movement of his hand gripping the toy becoming more erratic, drawing his knees up as high as he could, legs in the air and blood pounding in his ears. It never felt as good as when Jack did it, but it was good enough.
Ianto jumped and yelped as he felt big hands touching his thigh, covering the hand that had been working furiously between his legs. His eyes flew open, and he looked down himself in shock to see Jack crouched on the bed between his legs, smiling, asking permission. Ianto was too far gone to argue, removed his hands and moaned as Jack took over his body, moving the latex cock in and out of him at a much gentler, less frantic pace. Ianto came looking into his eyes, reaching down to touch Jack’s rugged and stubble-smattered face. Jack pulled the toy out of him, prising his arse apart and holding him open to watch the gape of his hole contract with parted lips and heavy breaths.
Ianto came back to himself and sat up quickly, reaching for a tissue and cleaning himself off. “I ... I wasn’t expecting you yet ...”
“Clearly.” Jack grinned with a look of amusement.
Ianto pulled on his clothes and Jack did very little to mask his disappointment, watching as Ianto's body was so unfairly hidden from him. Hidden from him, but donning an amazing suit. “You ... you look amazing, Ianto ...”
Ianto turned, and hesitated, as if seeing the Captain properly for the first time. He was unwashed and unkempt, stubble peppering his usually perfect skin and his eyes seemed dull having lost their sparkle. His clothes looked like they had been worn for a few days straight, rumpled and worn-looking. The coat, however, was the same as ever.
“You look ... tired.” Ianto eventually managed to say, sitting in the dressing chair and pulling it to sit opposite Jack, who had remained on the bed. “Are you ... are you alright?” he asked.
Jack smiled, but his eyes were still dull. “I’m fine, Ianto. Really. So ... so ... what have you been doing?” he asked awkwardly.
“Work ... um ... learning about my work. Thanks ... thanks for the job.” he replied, just as awkward. They fell quiet a moment.
“You’re ... okay? You look okay. Well ... you look like you’re fantastic, actually.” Jack asked.
Ianto gave a small laugh, leaning back in the chair and relaxing a little. “Everything ... everything’s fantastic. Pretty much ... except ... y’know ... well ... of course y-you ... you know.”
“Mmm ...” Jack agreed, and the awkward silence fell again.
“How was ... how was the wedding?”
“Boring.” smiled Jack. “And ... there were a couple of people there I don’t like. The bride and groom mainly.” Ianto laughed, and felt Jack’s eyes almost boring into him.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Why ... why did you ... why d-did you g-go? Why did you leave me?”
Their eyes met for a brief moment, pain-filled and hurt. They both averted their gaze, and Ianto remained silent as he waited for Jack to answer, playing with a cufflink.
“I ... I went and ... someone read my cards. And ... they made it clear.”
“Cards? Tarot cards?”
Jack didn’t reply.
“Fuck! You ... you placed our future with some ... some pretty cards and an insane gypsy who sounded like she vaguely knew what she was talking about?”
“Faith is never wrong.” Jack stated calmly.
“Yes, well a lot of sense tends to go out of the window where faiths are concerned.” Ianto snapped.
“Faith is her name.”
“I know, but my point seems to stand the same. Faith, women. Whatever. Tarot cards! Tarot cards!” Ianto paced and fumed. “I can’t believe ... for God’s sake! Y’know what, I’m glad you broke it off. At least I have Lisa now, even if our relationship is the by-product of a gypsy scam.”
“Ianto ...”
“What?”
“You’re ... just listen to me. Faith ... well, first of all Faith isn’t a gypsy. I’m not sure what she is. And second, she’s never, ever wrong.”
“Because she gave you cold, hard facts, or because you made her answers fit with what you wanted to hear?”
Jack sighed. “I don’t believe in the Tarot, Ianto.”
Ianto stopped, and turned on him. “So ... what the hell ...?”
“I believe in her cards, and her runes, and her stars. No one else can genuinely read them. Not like Faith. And ... her cards ... they’re ... well, look.” Jack reached into his greatcoat pocket and produced a piece of card about two by three inches, and Ianto examined the image with a frown.
He couldn’t read the font, but upon a yellow background stood a large tower with three arched windows graduated up the middle. There was no door. Two of the windows were shaded grey, and the third glowed orange. A man with dark hair, pale, almost pure white skin and donning a well-cut suit was leaning wistfully out of the window, shackles bound tight to his wrist. Ianto recognised it as a representation of himself, and a silhouette stood guard by the bottom of the tower could, most probably, have been Jack.
Handing it back to him, Ianto frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, that’s you in the towe-“
“I get that. I don’t understand ... why have you got that?”
“Faith gave it to me. I tried to make her keep it, but she said I’d have to show it to you.”
“Of course she did.” sighed Ianto. “So ... ‘Faith’ and her magic cards told you to leave me?”
Jack nearly bit his tongue with exasperation. “Look ... maybe ... right: it is ascertained that before we met, I was a bastard, yes?”
“Just before?” scowled Ianto, and mentally kicked himself when Jack winced. “Fine, yes. You were a bastard.”
“Well ... I ... there’s consequences. For everything. And ... I went so long without suffering the consequences that ... I didn’t deserve you, Ianto.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“Think about how happy you are here, and how much ... how unhappy I am.”
He folded his arms, still patient.
“I need to ... I need to make things right. I need to earn the right to ... to be with you again. I have to earn your love. In the meantime ... you’re happy with Lisa.”
“So ... when you’ve done ... repenting your sins, as it were, you’ll have me back again?”
Jack nodded.
“And ... if I don’t want to go back? What if ... what if I want my ‘mean time’ with Lisa to be more ... permanent?”
“Then ... that’s your choice.” Jack replied, biting his lip and looking away as if he couldn’t bear the thought of not being with Ianto ever again. “This is part of it. I tried to control you and own you. Now ... I had to leave you so that you could think clearly and ... consider your own choice. What you want.”
“Right now? I want ... I want ...”
“You don’t need to make any decisions now, Ianto.”
“So ... I get a choice. But only when you say I get a choice? Thanks, Jack. Really appreciate that.” He crossed to the bed and picked up his toy, walking purposefully into the en suite to clean it and distract himself.
“Look at me, Ianto.” Jack pleaded with him when he returned. Ianto put the toy and lubricant back in the box below the floorboards, and Jack tried to lighten the mood with a comment. “You like your loose floorboards, don’t you?” he smiled.
“I find them incredibly useful for hiding things from people I love.” Ianto snapped back, and Jack’s expression flicked back to being serious again.
“You didn’t have to keep it. And you asked where you could get one without people knowing.”
“I know ... I’m sorry ... I’m just .... Tarot cards, Jack!” He sat down heavily on the bed beside him and sighed. “So ... you left me to go ... make yourself a better person? Make yourself a better person then ... then I can choose whether or not I go back to you?”
“With me, not to me.” Jack corrected him. “You and me: equal pegging. Together. A proper couple.”
Ianto raised his eyes to meet Jack’s, and saw a flash of that old sparkle dance in them for a moment. “Properly?”
“Properly.” agreed Jack, taking Ianto's hand in his and brushing a stray hair away from his forehead. He cupped his cheek, and the overwhelming desire to kiss him tugged at his heart. Ianto seemed to have realised his intent, raising his chin slightly in invitation.
Finally, after so many months their lips touched and caressed, Jack clinging to Ianto's shoulders and waist, desperate for more contact. With a sharp breath and almost a jump, Ianto moved back away from him, breaking them apart.
“What’s wrong?” asked Jack.
“No ... no spark. Still no spark.” Ianto muttered, almost to himself. “I thought ... maybe time apart ... but ... no. No spark. I ... I don’t understand.” He turned to see Jack almost looking guilty. “What?”
“To save your life ... I told you, to save your life, I had to get the gauntlet. And ... they would only give me the gauntlet if I agreed to ... to this ...” He made a gesture to signify their situation. “I ... I had to trade your love for me to ... to get the gauntlet. And learn to be selfless.”
“That’s ... impossible. I ... no. You can’t ... you can’t trade love Jack! That’s ridiculous! I ... I told you my theory. In my letter.”
Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew a wad of envelopes, and Ianto recognised them as the ones he himself had sent to Jack. The Captain opened the first one and withdrew the letter, reading out aloud the relevant section.
“See,” said Ianto. “Far more sense ... the poison has messed up some of the chemicals in my brain. The ... the stimulants that I react to has ... altered. I still love you. I still ache for you. Just ... no spark.”
“Can you just ... take this with a pinch of salt? Go with it? Please? Just pretend to go with it, and look at it objectively, and ... and you’ll see how it fits together.”
Ianto sighed. “You can’t just frit away love.” he said quietly. “I can’t even pretend to believe that.”
Jack looked at him to see his eyes shining with tears. “Hey ... heyyyy ...” he muttered soothingly, rubbing circles on his back.
“I’m s-s-sorry ...” Ianto tried to hold the them back, closing his eyes and willing the tears to go away. He turned and hugged Jack tightly, and felt the return embrace comforting and safe. Jack held him until the tears subsided, then reached for a tissue from the bedside cabinet to wipe away his tears. He tried to kiss Ianto again, and Ianto reciprocated eagerly, roughly, and almost pulling at his clothes.
Jack couldn’t deny him, allowing his coat to be pushed back from his shoulders and the buttons of his shirt slipped from their holes. He buried his head in Ianto's neck, kissing and nipping and licking every inch of bare flesh he could find there.
“Wait ... stop ...” Ianto said, pushing him back. “This ... I don’t ... I don’t think I can do this ...”
Staring at him for a second, the Captain closed his mouth and sat back, fastening his shirt again, unable to look Ianto in the eye.
“All I can think of is Lisa. I don’t think ... I don’t think I can do this to her ... I think – in the future – I don’t think I should ... we ... I don’t think we should be alone together.”
“I’ll ... I’ll go then ...”
“No! No, don’t go!” Ianto gasped. “I mean ... in the future. Like ... for future reference. You’re ... you’re here now. Let’s ... let’s stick the telly on and ... we’ll enjoy each other’s company. I have missed you, Jack.”
Jack cheered up upon learning Ianto still wanted him there, still wanted his company. They went downstairs, and Ianto made some brunch while Jack relaxed by the telly, and made his best ever coffee just to please him. They ignored the television after a while, just chatting and laughing, having a little bit to drink.
“How did you know I was at the cottage anyway?” Ianto asked after what was his (possibly) fifth bottle of beer.
“I called at the house, Bridget said you’d gone to inspect the yellow to white daffodil radius.”
“Bridget?”
“You’re right, Janet just ... it didn’t seem right.”
“And Barbara?”
“Nope. Even ... wronger.” Jack narrowed his eyes drunkenly as he tried to figure out if ‘wronger’ was an actual word. It wasn’t.
“You’re silly, Jack. Just call her by her name.” smiled Ianto, reaching for an apple from the bowl on the table.
“Is that ... stuff from the ground?” Jack turned his nose up at it.
“Apples are from trees.”
“Trees are from the ground!” Jack reminded him. “I can’t believe you’re eating fruit! You should eat vegetables. Vegetables are good for you.”
“So’s fruit - and fruit’s sweeter. It’s like a treat you wish you hadn’t worked so hard to earn.”
Jack laughed, and put his bottle on the table. He glanced up at the clock. Half past four. Ianto followed his line of sight, and placed his bottle next to Jack’s.
“You need to go. Or hide away, for an hour at least.” Ianto suggested hopefully, but Jack just sighed heavily and gave him a regretful look.
“I’ve ... I’ve been here long enough.”
Ianto walked him to the garden gate, and noticed that Jack gave the little fishing gnome a nod out of habit, too. He smiled to himself, but didn’t mention it. Jack hugged him tight by the gate, and they swayed a little. “Remember when we danced to no music in the hotel in Cardiff?” he murmured into his ear. Ianto pulled away from him slowly.
“I do.” he smiled.
Jack bit his lip and awkwardly placed a kiss on Ianto's cheek. “Did you ... did you meant what you said? We ... we can’t be alone together again? Ever?”
“The arrangement will stand for now. Until future notice.” Ianto tried to smile gently, but his heart ached at Jack’s upset.
“Okay.” Jack agreed. “Oh! Nearly forgot! I got you a present from Pamukkale!” He rooted through his pockets until he found a little box, about an inch wide, an inch and a half tall.
Ianto took it, and opened it carefully. He gave a small laugh when he pulled out a pewter thimble, a strange goddess embossed on the side. “What ...?” he asked.
“It’s to keep your fingers safe from the dangers of small pricks.” grinned Jack.
“I bet you stayed awake all night thinking up that little piece of witticism.” smirked Ianto. Jack laughed, then turned to glance up at the big house, the windows gleaming in the summer evening sun.
“My driver’s at the house.” Jack told him. “I ... I have to go, don’t I?”
Ianto nodded. Jack sniffed, pretending to inhale the flower-scented air. “See you in August then?”
“See you in August.” smiled Ianto.
“You ... take care.”
“You too.”
“Think of me.”
“Every day.” Ianto promised.
Jack nodded, and without another word he set off back up to Hillcrest Manor, not looking back. Ianto followed suit, turning his back on Jack and shutting himself firmly back inside the house. He cleared up the beer bottles, trying to ignore the now eerie silence throughout the cottage and beginning to understand what Jack meant when he said it was ‘quiet’ without him there.
Lisa returned home, flustered and irritable, ten minutes after Ianto had finally sat down. He pretty much had decided to abandon work for that day the second Jack had appeared between his legs earlier. Dammit! Why hadn’t he had sex with Jack? He’d wanted it for so long, then simply pushed him off because ... because of Lisa ...
She wandered in, slamming doors and putting her bag heavily on the work surface in the kitchen.
“Okay?” he called through.
“Me? Ohh ... I’m fine. So glad you could take the time to stop and think of me!” she snapped. Ianto frowned, wondering what he had done. Or not done. Or almost, possibly, but not quite certainly may have the intention of doing. He got up from the couch and entered the kitchen, watching her hurriedly stabbing a microwave meal, nearly breaking the fork with the force she was doing it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Oh my God! You really have forgotten haven’t you?”
He blinked.
“What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” she asked. “Have I done something?”
“What? No! Just ... what did I forget?”
“Lunch!”
Ianto closed his eyes and bit his lip. McDonald’s with Lisa. Burgundy shirt. “Shit ... I ... I ... I never ... I never ...”
“You never usually forget. But you did. And all my new friends think you’re a total wanker. What happened, Ianto? Have ... have you been drinking?” she asked, smelling the alcohol on his breath. He bit his lip and turned away, sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and steeling himself. He could give her a half truth. A half truth that would get him out of trouble ... but ... well, it’s not like she wanted Jack in her life any more anyway ...
“Jack ... your dad ... dropped by unannounced earlier.”
Lisa froze, her eyes wide. The microwave comically pinged at this moment.
“We didn’t ... I didn’t have sex with him, if that’s what you’re thinking ...” he assured her. “I was ... I suppose I was shocked. After he left I ... had a bit of a drink.”
“Yeah ... okay ...” she turned to the microwave, sullen. “What ... what did he want?”
“To talk. To explain. He ... it doesn’t matter. He says he’ll only visit on prearranged date from now on. I told him ... I told him we shouldn’t be alone together.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
“And ... what did he say?”
“He regretfully agreed to it.”
“Just like that?” she asked, disbelieving.
“You didn’t see him, Lisa. He’s ... he’s the shadow of a man.” Ianto said quietly. “I’ve never seen him so ... low. And he was calm, and thoughtful. But ... dull. He’s lost his sparkle.”
“Dad did always seem to sparkle ...” Lisa smiled nostalgically. It was a little strange for Ianto to hear her call him ‘Dad’, but he was getting used to it.
“I’ll ... I promise to come to your work tomorrow so you can show me off to your friends like the overly-willing sex toy that I am.” he told her regretfully, trying not to sound like he was dreading it too much.
She gave a small laugh. “I’m sorry, love. I know you hate it when people stare at you ... but ... I just love showing you off!” she grinned, setting the microwave going again. “Especially if you wear something as sexy as that waistcoat with purple ... though I may have to make you try on the burgundy one in front of the other girls.”
“Er ... I don’t think so.”
“I do.”
“I really don’t.”
“If you loved me you’d do it.” she grinned slyly.
I huffed and scowled and she laughed and kissed his cheek. “Atta boi!” she smirked, strengthening her London accent and cupping his cheek. He stuck his tongue out at her.
“They can have one nipple.” he told her, moving to the coffee machine before she could attempt to make another cup of vile mud.
“Okay. I’ll compromise. Which nipple?”
“Which is your favourite?”
“Erm ... the right one.”
“Heyyy. What’s wrong with the leftie?”
“Nothing, I’m just right handed.” she rolled her eyes, something she’d been doing a lot more since she’d picked up the frequency of the trait from Ianto.
“I think the leftie is offended.” Ianto told her authoritatively, looking down his shirt. “He’s hidden away, look.”
“He’s not used to the attention. Stop staring at ‘im. You’ll make him shy.”
Ianto laughed and turned his attention back to the coffee machine, and the task of making coffee. Lisa walked up behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder.
He groaned. “Lisa!”
“What?” she smirked.
“You. Showing off that you’re taller than me. Not cool.”
“It so is. Look – I’m wearing flats and I’m taller than my boyfriend!”
“Oh haha.”
“You’re just annoyed because you’re short.”
“I’m not short. I’m above average height by an inch. You’re ... ginormous.”
Lisa folded her arms and scowled. “You callin’ me fat?”
“Shit! No! I was ... you’re really tall! You’re ... look at you! You’re beautiful and slim and sexy and everybody wishes they had your body. In fact ... if I was a woman ...”
“Alright, Welsh Man! I was joking!” she laughed as she watched him squirm.
“Oh ... I meant it though.” he said, turning a delicate shade of pink.
“I know, love. Ooo! I got you a present!” She hurried over to her bag, and pulled out a cufflink box. “I saw them in the shop ... and ... they’re you!” she grinned.
Ianto took the box from her and snapped the lid open. He glanced at the contents and laughed. “Brilliant!” he declared. Nestled comfortably in the box were a pair of cufflinks, the decorative side shaped like three coffee beans all in a row. He instantly began removing the cufflinks he was already wearing – bearing the little songbird that was the emblem of Hillcrest – and replaced them with the little silver beans. “I love them. I really do!” he beamed.
“Good.” she smiled. “Now, you and Mr. Rightie-Nipple had better make an appearance tomorrow. With a big bunch of flowers. And I mean big enough to sink a rowing boat. But don’t tell them I told you to bring them. ‘kay?”
“What kind of flowers does the lady demand?” he asked, pouring her coffee as she ate her microwave dinner from the plastic container it came in.
“Surprise me.”
“Surprise. Not shock?”
“Just surprise.” she assured him, popping a bit of ... Ianto couldn’t really tell what it was ... into her mouth. She yawned and covered her mouth before rubbing her eyes.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“You still gonna go to that demonstration bonfire thing tonight?” he asked, urging her to drink a little more coffee.
“I really should, Ianto.” she sighed. “Maybe I can sleep there ...”
“What? That’s not safe! What if ... what if you wake up in Marrakech or something?”
“How will I wake up in Marrakech?” she frowned.
“I dunno ... someone could kidnap you ... you get shoved on a plane ... wake up in Marrakech with no idea what’s happened, working for some pimp in a brothel with ...”
“Heyyy hey ... stop it. You’re ... you genuinely think that could ... oh. Sorry.” she mumbled when he gave her a pointed look. “But ... Marrakech? More likely Market Street.”
“Don’t joke about it! And it is possible to get you to Marrakech! I saw Derren Brown do it!”
Lisa grinned. “Awww Ianto. Only Derren Brown can do what Derren Brown does. I’m fairly certain he won’t be at the demonstration, or on the lookout for possible kidnapees. Besides; he wouldn’t come after me. He’s gay.”
“Is he? Oooo!”
“If you leave me for Derren Brown, I’m running away with your right nipple and never coming back.”
Ianto snorted into his coffee. “Tell you what: next time I’m in the office I’ll photocopy my right nipple. You can then have a hi-res photo of it on your phone for all eventualities.”
“Imagine Barbara walking in on you photocopying your nipple!” she laughed.
“Imagine me walking in on Barbara photocopying her nipple ...”
“EWWWWWWW! That’s it! No supper for you! You’ve been a very naughty boy!”
“Naughty enough to make you stay home and punish me?” he deadpanned, doing nothing more than raising his eyebrow. He knew Lisa loved what he could do with his eyebrows. He was starting to think maybe she had a kink for them.
“Hmmm ...” she considered. “I suppose it would save me trying to get plane tickets back from Marrakech ...”
“I’ll wait upstairs for you.” he grinned.
“I can’t be arsed with stairs, luv.” she winked.
She barely got her coffee mug and ready meal safely on the table before Ianto was wrapped around her. He was a little drunk and clumsy ... but ... yeah. She loved what he could do to her. Where he learnt it from ... that didn’t matter anymore.
Ianto was moving on, too. He was much happier, and she was falling more in love with him every day.
Later that night, when they finally made it to bed, and Ianto was lying next to Lisa, kissing her cheek, he draped an arm over her waist as they laughed together.
“I love you.” he told her, not for the first time, but for some reason, she felt there was more meaning behind it. “I love you more every day. And ... Jack coming here earlier ... made me realise that.”
Lisa smiled and kissed him.
“I could spend the rest of my life with you.” he whispered.
Ianto raised his head when Lisa didn’t answer.
“You ... you may have to clear that with my Dad first.” she muttered bitterly. She turned on her side. “Goodnight, Ianto.”
“Good ... G’night, Lisa.”
“Love you, Ianto.”
“Love you too, Lisa.”
“Love you too, Mr. Rightie-Nipple.”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “G'night, Nipple-Facist.”
Jack stood outside the cottage in the dark, not caring if he felt like a stalker. His heart ached when their laughter rippled through an open window.
Faith had predicted Jack would have to wait six years for Ianto. At some point in that time, Lisa would die a premature death.
He felt sick to his stomach, whatever was in it curdling, forcing its was up and he had to turn and vomit into a bush.
He was looking forward to the death of his own daughter.
He had never, in his long life, felt so disgusting.
FIN
Comments are love. And so is ice cream (even if it gives you a headache).
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-10-29 01:08 am (UTC)