kali (kalichan) wrote,

Torchwood Fic: The Most Beautiful Girl in the World

Title: The Most Beautiful Girl in the World
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto
Authors: rm & kalichan
Rating/Warning: NC-17, mostly porn, but plotty porn! Genderfuck.
Summary: Ianto tries to lighten Jack's mood after Gwen's wedding and learns the consequences of not ignoring certain offhand remarks.
Author's Notes: A continuation of the arc that begins with A Strange Fashion of Forsaking, Dear Captain, Last Night I Slept in Mutiny and To Learn This Holding and The Holding Back; takes place after 2x09: Something Borrowed. 4th installment of I Had No Idea I Had Been Traveling.
Wordcount: ~8,000

"Right," Ianto muttered as he forced himself to put down the stack of tourist information fliers he'd been fidgeting with. There was no point in coming back to the Hub to see how Jack was holding up after the wedding if he didn't have the nerve to actually go in and see Jack.

He pulled at the hem of his t-shirt again, feeling strange about his lack of sartorial armor, but it had been a long, messy day, and the thought of dragging a suit back on after he had showered was just beyond him. Besides, he knew there was a good chance that Jack would just send him right out the door again, and this way he could at least attempt to relax like a normal person in the case of that eventuality.

He raked a hand through his hair and headed down to the Hub proper, drumming the fingers of his left hand against his leg as he waited for the door to roll back.

Jack was sitting at Gwen's work station, turning his chair back and forth the way Owen always did, which was the most annoying habit ever, as far as Ianto was concerned. Clearly, he'd been lost in thought until the interruption of Ianto's arrival.

"Hey," he said not coming any closer.

"Hey," Jack said, both curious and wary.

"How're you holding up?" Ianto asked quietly.

Jack shrugged.

"Do you want some company?"

"What sort of company?" Jack asked lasciviously, although it was evident his heart wasn't in it.

"The sort where I try to distract you from whatever you're brooding about."

"Weird seeing you in here without a suit on," Jack noted.

Ianto shrugged. "Didn't seem to make much sense."

"It's a good look for you," Jack said, clearly subdued.


Ianto reached for Tosh's chair and sat down, still keeping a good ten feet between them. He found he too couldn't resist the lure of the swiveling chair. He chuckled to himself.

"What?" Jack asked.

Ianto just shook his head. "Today was hard, yeah?"

"Nah." Jack said dismissively. "It was great. Beautiful, even."

"Yeah...," Ianto said hesitantly, trailing off.

"Two people vowing to spend the rest of their lives together. What's hard about that?"

"Well, that, for starters. Commitment. Wedding planning. In-laws. Also the part where there was an alien baby, and we had to be wedding fairies."

"Hey, I got to shout 'stop the wedding' at the critical moment. Always wanted to do that. It's a lifelong dream fulfilled."

Ianto laughed. "I heard about that. You did sound like you were enjoying yourself there."

"Yeah," Jack said.

There was a pause.

"Do you want to be alone, Jack?" Ianto asked, all in a rush. "I just... I wanted to stop by and see you were all right. You seemed.... But I can go."

"No," Jack said. "It's fine. Stay."

He still seemed abstracted though, and Ianto spun his chair a little in silence, trying to figure out what he should do. Did Jack really mean that he should stay? Or was he just saying that to be kind? Ianto couldn't be sure.

"Talk to me," Jack said suddenly.

"Talk to you?" Ianto repeated. "Uh, sure. What should I say?"

"Anything you want," Jack said.

Ianto thought for a moment. "Did I tell you about buying the wedding gown?"

"No," Jack said, leaning back in his chair. "You didn't."

"You know when you sent me to get Gwen's new dress? Well. I tried to explain to the nice gentleman in the shop that it was for a 'friend,' but it seems they hear that a lot."

Jack was smiling, and Ianto was conscious of a brief surge of triumph.

"You did that to me on purpose, didn't you? I thought I was going to fall through the floor. To be fair, it probably didn't help that I was, you know, holding it up in front of myself, like a bloody model or something."

Jack chuckled.

"What?" Ianto asked with mock injury in his voice. "I wanted to see if it would fit!"

"You wanted to see if it would fit you?"

"Well, I thought if I could imagine it...on Gwen, I mean, not that we're the same...Oh shut up," he said, pretending to be defensive, but actually quite pleased he'd got Jack to lighten up a bit.

"Well, you do have the same coloring," Jack conceded.

Ianto chuckled. "You really do have a type, don't you?"

Jack smiled softly. "In humans?"

"I... have no response to that, sir," Ianto said laughing.

Jack laughed with him, but then went silent again and Ianto was as quiet as possible in case Jack was about to say something. Ianto didn't want to startle him from it.

"It was hard, actually," Jack said, not looking at him.

Ianto made no response, waiting to see if he'd be graced with the rest of it.

"I married once. Before Estelle. I... the powers that be here flipped out about it," he said, finally looking up at Ianto. "Said that sort of thing wasn't for me." He paused again, nodding to himself. "They had a point. Although it wasn't pleasant to concede."

"You miss her?" Ianto asked, suspecting that for once Jack's personal life was somehow an easier topic than the brutalities of the organization he now ran.

"It was a long time ago," he said, sounding practiced, but Ianto couldn't imagine when Jack ever would have mentioned to this to anyone in the recent past. "But yeah. It was a good life. She was a good woman." He shrugged.

"Gwen know all this?" Ianto asked.

Jack shook his head, and Ianto tried not to feel triumphant, but he did, just a little.

"She must be even more confused by you than I am, then."

Jack nodded his head and then bowed to it. "Yeah."

Ianto didn't know what else to say in the face of a few sentences that from Jack were the equivalent of months' worth of revelations. So he went back to the dress, because it was, somehow, still funny, and he didn't have another gambit ready.

"So the dress? Then the guy asked if I needed shoes for it."

Jack chuckled, trying to find some lightness again. "Maybe he had a fetish," he offered.

"Awfully specific, that. Welsh men in wedding dresses."

Jack shrugged. "People are weird. Who knows, maybe I'm not the only one who wants to make love to you like the most beautiful girl in the world," he said, enunciating obscenely.

Ianto smiled awkwardly, pleased that Jack remembered something so specific from that oh so very strange encounter, but still both baffled and awkward in the face of the notion.

"What the hell do you mean by that anyway?" Ianto asked good-naturedly.

"Come here, let me kiss you," he invited.

Ianto got up slowly and stalked over to him.

"Sit," he said, indicating that Ianto should straddle his legs. When he did, Jack smoothed his hand over his t-shirt.

"So now what?" Ianto asked.

Jack shushed him and took his face in his hands, kissing Ianto on one corner of his mouth and then the other, alternating sides as he worked his way in towards the center and tongues.

Ianto giggled. He couldn't help it; it was ridiculous.

"See?" Jack whispered, obviously taken with the moment. "That's how you kiss the most beautiful girl in the world. The proof's in that you giggled."

"Jack --"


"You're completely insane."

Jack just laughed.

“No, really,” Ianto said, grinning because Jack's laugh was actually completely infectious. “Completely barking mad.”

Ianto started to get up off his lap, and Jack's hands shot out to grab his hips, and hold him there.

“Where do you think you're going?” Jack said.

“Um,” Ianto said. “Nowhere?”

“Exactly right,” Jack said. He cupped Ianto's face between his two hands, and pulled it down to kiss again.

“Mmphm,” Ianto said against Jack's lips, before giving in and opening his mouth to the kiss.

“What was that?” Jack purred, pulling back. “You were trying to say something?”

“Just that you are very strange,” Ianto said.

Jack looked up at Ianto and quirked an eyebrow at him. “You know how you're always asking me about things that I miss?”

“... yeah?” Ianto asked, with some trepidation, because Jack had that expression on his face, the one with which he prefaced his most outrageous suggestions.

“What if... just for instance, what if I told you I miss fucking girls?”

Ianto blinked at him; he knew he would have an actual reaction in a moment, but right now he just felt as if he had been suddenly plunged into very cold water.

“Mind you,” Jack went on, as if he were ruminating idly on something not very important, “not that fucking boys isn't a delight. But you know, sometimes you get in the mood for a little variety.”

“I'd say there's no need to miss it. Plenty of girls about,” Ianto said, trying to keep the fact that his stomach felt like it was falling all the way down to his toes out of his voice entirely. Even, calm, that was what was called for here. No voice cracking allowed.

“That seems like a lot of effort,” Jack said innocently. “Especially when you're right here.”

“What... no,” Ianto said, shaking his head. “Just, no.”

“You wouldn't be a girl for me?” Jack said, running his hands tantalizingly over Ianto's jean-clad thighs. “Even if I asked you to?”

“No,” Ianto said. He noted however, that whatever his feelings on the subject, he hadn't moved from Jack's lap, and alarmingly, whatever Jack's fingers were doing on his inner thighs was making his cock begin to stir. Who was he kidding, he thought with a mental groan, as soon as Jack got that tone in his voice, he was well on his way to being lost.

“You wouldn't, huh?” Jack said. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, but not as certainly as he had perhaps intended.

"But why not?"

Ianto pondered for a second, trying to decide which answer wouldn't be like a red cape to a bull. "Because it's ridiculous," he finally offered.

"So? All sex is ridiculous."

"Do you think so?" Ianto asked, dubious at least on his own behalf and possibly on Jack's as well.

Jack shrugged. "Not really. But it sounds good if you don't think about it, right?"

"I guess," Ianto said.

Jack kissed him. "You're so serious."

Ianto resisted the the urge to ask Jack if sex with his wife had been ridiculous, or with John Hart, or the Doctor, or even himself. Because really none of those things struck him as particularly so, disparate as they surely were.

"I am serious," Ianto said calmly. He'd long been resigned to his nature. "Besides, I'd look terrible in a twin set."

Jack laughed so hard they both nearly fell off the chair.

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Jack said, when he could speak again.

“You had something in mind?” Ianto said with some alarm, still hoping against hope this was just some random stream of thought Jack had cooked up in his ongoing effort to keep Ianto off balance.

“Mm-hmm,” Jack said. “You never know... you might even like it.”

He pushed up Ianto's t-shirt, and ran his hands over Ianto's chest, scratching lightly over his nipples as if by accident. Except with Jack, nothing like that was ever accidental.

Ianto swallowed.

Jack bent forward just a little, and licked Ianto's chest teasingly, with the very tip of his tongue.

“Scratch that,” Jack said. “I know you'd like it. Maybe just because it pleases me. Or because you like knowing all the things I can make you do, hmm? And maybe... just maybe, because you know you'd be fucking gorgeous.”

Ianto gasped, helplessly.

“Yep,” Jack said confidently. “You'll see.”

“I will?” Ianto asked and then moaned as Jack sucked his nipple into his mouth, and bit down gently.

"Oh god!" Ianto cried out, mind distantly thinking that there was something of a plan in letting Jack continue to talk about this while making sure he kept doing that. Because the current verbal narrative wasn't his thing, but he also didn't particularly mind, mainly because this was fucking fantastic.

Jack made a smug noise and rested his chin again Ianto's chest for a moment, even if it was a ridiculously awkward gesture considering how they were sitting.

"It is amazing to me the degree to which women in this century neglect men's nipples. Because that reaction was proof."

"Jack," Ianto half-moaned wanting Jack to shut the hell up and go back to what he was doing.


"We're not even a decade into this century," Ianto said breathlessly.

"Well, the last one too," and then did, thankfully, return to his previous task.

Ianto spread his legs further and shifted so his hips were crushed up against Jack.

Jack chuckled and pulled his head back again.

"See, Ianto, you totally get how this works. I mean really, how many pretty girls have rocked themselves off in your lap?"

Ianto didn't answer, mostly because he couldn't find his voice at all.

“How many?” Jack insisted.

“Um,” Ianto said, writhing. “Dunno. A few.”

“Come on,” Jack said, his voice hardening just a little. “You can do better than that.”

Ianto gulped and tried to think, something Jack's hands on him was not making any easier. “Eleven? Twelve?” he tried.

“Really?” Jack said admiringly. “How very lucky for me.”

Ianto nodded because he would have agreed to anything just then, with Jack's teeth at his skin. He didn't really see where Jack was going with this, and that would have made him nervous, except he was so turned on he couldn't see straight.

“You'll have a lot of practical models to fall back on,” Jack said consideringly.

With that he suddenly stood, spilling Ianto from his lap onto the floor. Ianto sprawled at his feet and stared up at him in surprise.

Jack extended a hand to him, and he grasped it without thinking, still a little shocked by his sudden change in elevation.

“Okay,” Jack said, pulling him up and pushing him towards Gwen's workspace. “Sit here.”

“Uh, this is Gwen's desk, Jack,” Ianto said feebly, feeling like things were moving on at a clip he wasn't really quite ready for.

“Yeah, it is,” Jack said, seating him on the desk and beginning to rummage in her top drawer as he added, “Take your shirt off.”

"No," Ianto said, his voice hard, and he almost laughed because he'd never known until he worked for Jack what a core of force he had inside himself.

Jack stopped what he was doing to fist his hand in Ianto's hair and pulled until it hurt.

Ianto gasped, and his mouth hung open as he looked up at Jack with big eyes.

Jack smiled. and it was utterly predatory. Then he leaned over to whisper in Ianto's ear. "I'm almost certain I'm not about to do what you're afraid of mainly because I don't think Gwen keeps an extra bra in her pen drawer." Jack paused. "Wouldn't fit you anyway," he said with a laugh, but it was clearly solely for his own entertainment. He tugged on Ianto's hair again. "Now take off your damn shirt so you're easier to get at," he growled.

Ianto didn't know whether to laugh or cry and certainly didn't expect the sound that combined the two to sound like such a breathy, desperate gasp.

Jack let go of his hair and stepped back to survey him expectantly.

“Do I have to tell you again?” Jack asked, the note of command in his voice obvious this time.

Under his steely gaze Ianto found himself shaking his head and then stripping the shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. The air on his chest was cold and he shivered.

“Don't worry,” Jack said, smiling. “I'll warm you up soon enough.”

He moved back over to the desk and, after a few seconds, pulled something out and held it up for Ianto to look at.

“Found it,” he said triumphantly.

It was a tube of cherry-red lip gloss, and Ianto trembled.

Jack leaned over to kiss him, sucking his lower lip in between his teeth.

“You're going to be so fucking pretty.”

"Jack --" Ianto said. He meant it to be warning, but his voice wavered and it sounded pleading instead.

Jack tilted his head to the side for a moment, considering. He smoothed a hand over Ianto's hair, gentle now. "This isn't humiliation," he said softly.

Ianto nodded, and while he was still trembling faintly, he noted that Jack's words were apparently exactly what he needed to hear because his heart, while still pounding, was no longer encouraging him to leap up from the desk and run screaming from the room.

"Humiliation implies other people," Jack said, his voice a low, sexy, soothing murmur. "And there's no one else," he added softly. "Just me."

Ianto nodded slightly, tipped back his head and rolled his eyes closed, all with a slight moan. Jack didn't know how true that was, Ianto thought. Or maybe he did. Which was terrifying.

The next thing he felt was Jack, up close next to him and seizing his chin firmly, holding his head up-tilted. Jack was smearing the gloss onto his lips with a brush; it felt sticky and his tongue darted out instinctively to taste it. It was sweet and chemical, like kissing girls when he was sixteen, and he shuddered.

“Stay still,” Jack ordered.

It wasn't like Ianto had never worn eyeliner or been to a rave, but somehow this was different, as Jack slowly, carefully feathered the gloss onto his mouth as if he were painting a picture.

Ianto could only imagine how he must look, and he felt as if he was standing on something very high, and the ground beneath him could give way at any moment.

“Beautiful,” Jack said. “Stay there.”

Ianto heard him move away, but he kept his eyes tightly shut; if he didn't look, it wouldn't be quite real. He heard the sounds of drawers opening again, and Jack laughing quietly to himself. He hoped it wasn't at him, though he couldn't be certain. He assumed Jack was returning Gwen's lip gloss to its home, although he wasn't sure that he could ever watch Gwen putting it on again without either dying of embarrassment or much worse, exploding from sheer arousal.

Jack loved Gwen for a lot of reasons. Not all of them good or reasonable or healthy, but that was Torchwood for you. Right now he loved Gwen for having a spare pair of panties in the back of her file drawer. What that was about, Jack couldn't really be sure, although considering that they were pretty, lacy and mauve, he suspected they dated back to the thing with Owen. Who said employee affairs weren't good for morale?

Jack jammed them and the lip gloss into his pocket as best he could and then grabbed Ianto by the wrist and yanked him out of the chair.

"Come on," he said, "stupid to do this out here."

"Yeah," Ianto said, breathless and off balance.

Jack pulled him in close and kissed him deeply.

"Your lips," he breathed, "are positively pornographic. A bit more privacy and then we'll get them where they belong,"

"Where's that?" Ianto murmured.

"Around my cock."

Jack watched Ianto swallow convulsively, and the sight shot straight to his groin. Ianto was responding even better than he could have hoped, and he congratulated himself. This was going to work out just fine.

Ianto's mouth was slightly open; his lips reddened, sticky and shining. Sitting there on the desk, shirtless, in his jeans, Jack wanted to swallow him whole. He looked debauched and dirty, and Jack kind of wanted to forgo the plan and fuck him quick and dirty like a rent boy on the floor. But, he told himself, this would be even better.

He grabbed Ianto's hand and pulled him off the desk.

“Come on,” he said. “I can't wait any longer.”

Ianto followed him obediently up the stairs to his office, and then stood waiting while Jack pulled up the hatch that led to the cubbyhole underneath.

Jack gestured to the ladder. “After you,” he said.

Ianto looked at him questioningly, and Jack nodded. “Go on,” he said. “Climb down.”

Jack watched closely as Ianto did. It wasn't difficult, but the other man was shaky, of course, from desire and nerves.

"You deserve a bigger bed," Jack said as he descended into the space after him. "But somehow I think we'll make do."

He reached out for Ianto again and smoothed a hand over his face and then through his hair, touching him everywhere, hands constantly moving so that the man couldn't think, couldn't remember what he was or wasn't, couldn't find anything that mattered more than being touched by Jack.

"That's it," Jack purred as Ianto started to twist to anticipate those hands.

Ianto hummed, and Jack leaned into breathe in his ear. "So pretty. And all mine. Let's get you undressed. Do this right," he whispered, as he unfastened Ianto's jeans and tugged them down.

He laughed. Ianto wasn't wearing any underwear. Sometimes, Jack Harkness knew the universe loved him. And this was one of those times. Which was good. Because it had been a hard day, and that certainly hadn't been true earlier.

"You're such a gift," he chuckled and then bit hard on Ianto's earlobe, earning him not just a gasp, but a squeal. “That's right,” Jack encouraged him. “That's exactly what we want.”

Ianto writhed and tried to press up against him, but Jack pulled away teasingly.

“Patience,” he said fondly. “You're not quite ready yet.”

At that, Ianto's eyes flew open, and Jack reached into his pocket to pull out Gwen's panties and dangle them in front of his face.

Ianto stared at them for a second as if he couldn't quite figure out what they were, and then slowly moved his head to meet Jack's eyes.

“Lucky find, huh?” Jack said with glee.

Ianto swallowed. This was crazy. Jack was crazy. But he didn't protest, just looked up at the ceiling as Jack moved down the bed to kneel at his feet.

“Raise up,” Jack said firmly, and Ianto did, so Jack could slide the knickers up over his legs and hips, until they were on properly. They felt silken and too small against his arse; he felt his cock bulge inside them obscenely.

“Gorgeous,” Jack said, his hands on Ianto's hips, and surveying up and down. Ianto felt the blood rush to his face in one hot, agonizing blush. The lace edging on the knickers was scratchy against his skin, but the satiny feeling against his cock was exquisite, and he moaned.

"And this," Jack said softly, "is why you really do have to trust me."

"Oh god," Ianto breathed, still squirming with some mix of desire and horror.

"Past words now, are we?" Jack asked.

And Ianto grabbed at him and dragged Jack to him so that they could kiss because he was not going to think. He wasn't. Not now, maybe not ever. Thinking was done. He fisted his hands tight in Jack's hair, just because he needed to hold onto something.

Jack winced. "Hey, hey, easy, I've got you... shhhh."

He felt the hands slacken, and Ianto relax under him fractionally. "Good, that's right," he said, stroking his hands up and down Ianto's sides, being oh so careful to keep him soothed and pleased before he pushed this all just one tiny step further.

"Much as I hate to," he murmured, still keeping his hands moving, "I'm going to have to get up to get these clothes off. Unless you want to help? I mean, you would like me naked, wouldn't you?"

Ianto nodded frantically and tried to kiss him, but Jack moved his head out of the way.

"Shhhhh. Easy, remember. This is going to be nice and slow. So let's start fumbling with those buttons,yeah?" Jack cooed, but Ianto's hands were already at his collar and working their way down before he even finished the sentence.

"Such a good girl," Jack breathed, but it was instinct somehow and not calculation. That hadn't really been true a moment ago when he'd thought of it, but it was now. He sucked at Ianto's lower lip and smiled.

Ianto didn't protest; he just pushed Jack's shirt off his shoulders, and then began to fumble with Jack's zipper. Jack let him open up his trousers, reach inside, stroke his cock through his underwear with delicate, deft movements, before he batted away Ianto's hands so he could wriggle out of the rest of his clothes and toss them aside.

He took a minute to look at Ianto, and the image, he had to say, was frankly even more stunning than he had hoped. Ianto's dark hair curling a little with sweat; his mouth sticky sweet and deeply red; his cock swelling out of the lacy panties that couldn't quite contain him, even boy cut as they were.

Jack sighed with pleasure. “You're perfect,” he whispered. “Just perfect.”

Something broke inside Ianto then, something eased within him, and he found himself arching his neck, as if preening under Jack's gaze.

Jack leaned over him, ran a finger down the side of his cheek in a caress, and Ianto made a soft, helpless noise; he was at Jack's mercy now he knew, and the sweetness of it nearly undid him.

As Jack bent over him, Ianto felt overwhelmed by heat -– the warm blush still burning his skin, Jack's fingers leaving sizzling trails over his chest and thighs, Jack's breath hot against his throat.

Ianto could feel his cock wedged between them now, rubbing against the silken cloth that separated it from Jack's stomach, and he moaned at the friction of it, wanting it harder, faster, but also loving the ache.

Jack sat up, and pulled Ianto up after him. "Yeah, like that. Wrap your legs around me," he whispered, and then Ianto was in his arms and thrusting against him in an oddly artful rhythm, clearly wrapped up in taking his own strange pleasure.

Jack placed a hand in the center of Ianto's back and pressed him close, keeping his other hand under his ass.

"You're beautiful when we do this," Jack whispered in his ear. "You know that right?"

Ianto shook his head, so Jack grabbed his hair and pulled his head up and waited until Ianto blinked and looked him in the eye.

"Not just this time. Every time," Jack said, firm and simple.

Ianto hid his face in Jack's neck and sucked at the fragile skin there and Jack smiled, because he was fairly certain he'd think of those inches of flesh as belonging to Ianto for a while yet to come.

Jack chuckled in his ear. "Yeah, your sharp little teeth want me to know I'm yours, don't they?"

"Dunno," Ianto mumbled.

Jack laughed again. "Don't lie."

“I'm not,” Ianto said softly into his neck; Jack could just barely hear the words.

Jack ran his nails down Ianto's back, bit down on his throat.

“Feel that?” he said, “what does it feel like? Tell me.”

“Like you're opening me up,” Ianto gasped.

“Oh, I will,” Jack said, hearing the roughness in his own voice now. “You were made for this. You were made for me.”

Jack pushed Ianto back down onto the bed, and then moved over him to reach for the drawer by the cot.

Jack's cock was in front of his face, and Ianto couldn't resist reaching up and sucking it into his mouth. Jack groaned as he did and then stopped what he was doing so he could look down and see Ianto suck on him, cherry red lips wrapped around his cock.

He leaned down to cup Ianto's face in his hands, but instead of using it to fuck deeper into his mouth, he just let his hands rest gently there.

“So good, such a pretty girl,” Jack said hoarsely, “You do that so well. I love to watch my prick in your mouth.”

Ianto made a small sound. Not because he was aroused, although he was desperately, and not because he was embarrassed, although he was that too, distantly, but because there was such a wave of sadness from Jack at that moment, that he couldn't understand or help, but that he could practically taste.

Jack saw the ghost of it flick over Ianto's face. "It's... just all, all the things you make me forget for a little while," he gasped.

Ianto made another small noise, this one, sounding like agreement, and he sucked harder, bringing his hands up to drag his nails across Jack's thighs.

"Clever," Jack growled, the sorrow forgotten as he watched Ianto smile around him.

And then he thrust deeper into Ianto's mouth, and Ianto opened his throat to accommodate him, and it was wet and tight and perfect, and Jack threw his head back and let the sensation wash over him in waves.

But not for long, because he had no intention of coming just yet. When the desire got too intense, he pulled out of Ianto's mouth, letting his cock rub lightly over his cheek, as he reached for the lube he kept by his little bed.

“Give me your hands,” he said.

When Ianto delivered them up to him, he squeezed the lube onto them. “Slick me up,” he said. He felt Ianto's hands slathering the smooth wetness onto his cock, and at the pulling slickness of it, he shivered with pleasure.

It was like praying, Ianto thought, and it was marvelous, because he could tell from Jack's face it was just a little more intense than he could bear, and yet he also couldn't tear himself away from it.

Finally Jack sat back on his heels just to get out of the reach of Ianto's hands.

"Wicked. Foolish. Girl," he panted as he tried to get himself under control. "and oh is it a shame to take these off you," he said, reaching for the panties and yanking them down, but not off. Not all the way, no. He was perfectly happy to let them stay tangled around Ianto's left ankle, as he pushed the man onto his side and settled himself behind him, letting his cock nudge at Ianto's entrance.

"Fingers. First. Please," Ianto gasped, and Jack was startled for a moment that he'd gotten lost enough in this strangeness to have forgotten. But yeah, he could do that. He sucked on his fingers, wetting them and then moved down, massaging and then slipping very gently inside.

Ianto moaned at that raw, inexpressible feeling of being opened up, and Jack smiled against his shoulder.

“Do it, do it,” Ianto said, and Jack could feel him relax around his fingers, accepting, even rocking back against them. Jack went deeper, as deep as he could, touching just the right place, stroking and pressing, and Ianto panted hoarsely, completely lost in it now.

When Jack withdrew his fingers, Ianto cried out, and Jack grinned to himself.

“Shh,” he said. “Don't worry. I'm going to make it better.”

With that he lined up again and slid in.

Ianto actually thought he might have been dying; that exquisite, agonizing feeling of being penetrated was too much, and his mouth opened in a silent, strained o. It was overpowering, being filled and pierced; nothing in the world existed but Jack inside him, and that rich friction.

Jack shoved in deeper, harder, moving him forward, and now his fingers were at Ianto's nipples again, pinching them, and his lips were at Ianto's neck, and Ianto didn't know if he'd ever felt so gorgeously violated in his entire life.

Jack was going slowly. Really, really slowly. Part of it was the angle. He didn't have leverage and didn't really want it, because if he could have rushed, he would have, he knew that, and it was so much better like this, slowly rolling his hips into Ianto over and over again as he scratched and pinched and nipped wherever he could reach.

He ran his fingers over the head of Ianto's cock, damp and sticky from having been trapped in Gwen's panties.

"You're so wet," Jack breathed against Ianto's ear.

Ianto moaned, and it utterly undid Jack.

"My filthy, brilliant little whore," Jack whispered in his ear, the words inordinately fond.

Ianto laughed and tilted his head back, straining for a kiss.

Jack obliged, sucking Ianto's tongue into his mouth, and running his own along it, a motion which seemed somehow even more intimate than his cock inside him. He kissed Ianto feeling like he wanted to swallow him, like he was devouring something luscious and sweet that could disappear at any instant, tasting the remnants of the lip gloss, smeared against both their mouths now.

Every inch of Ianto's skin felt like it was alive; he was burning with it. Jack rubbing against his cock, every now and again pulling at the hair there, and the little, sharp stings just sent him rocketing higher and higher while Jack continued to fuck him.

Now Jack had gathered up his balls, was playing with them ever so gently, and he could feel Jack beginning to fist the shaft of his cock, stroking it upwards.

Ianto felt himself go rigid, and he gritted his teeth.

“I can't...” he said. “I can't!”

“That's my girl,” Jack said low in his ear. “Of course you can. I want you to. This is for you. All of it,” he said, shoving in impossibly deeper till Ianto saw stars, “All for you.”

Ianto came, sobbing with each pulse, and Jack praising him and cooing in his ear all the way through it. He brought his hand up to his mouth, biting the heel of it, trying to stifle the sound, but Jack pulled it away.

"No, want to hear you... so close.... it's... don't be quiet," he said, kissing Ianto's shoulder now, "Never be quiet."

Ianto was panting, moaning, still making soft sounds even as he tried to recover, but Jack was still fucking him, still fondling him and it was too much, too sensitive, but it didn't matter that it was too much, too much, too much, because that was always why he had wanted Jack, because too much was the most appealing thing in the world when all you ever got most of the time was not enough.

Jack shifted them slightly so he was partially on top of Ianto, and it made it easier for him to go hard and fast as he chanted in Ianto's ear thank you and yes and perfect and beautiful, and a million other ridiculous things, none of which he seemed to be able to control anymore.

And when he came, everything but his cock was perfectly still.

Ianto held his breath, lest he miss any of it.

They lay still there for what seemed like a very long time after, afraid to move at all really, not wanting to break the spell. Until the moment had stretched out as long as it possibly could and snapped as all moments do eventually, releasing them.

Jack exhaled slowly and then slid out, so he was lying half on his side. There wasn't enough room on the bed for them both to lie on their backs. Ianto stayed where he was, face half buried in the pillow.

“So,” Jack said finally, as if simply picking up the thread of a conversation they had been having, “that's how you make love to someone like they're the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Ianto made a noise somewhere in between a laugh and a sob.

“Is that what that was?” he said.

"What did you think it was?" Jack asked casually, although his voice sounded forced.

"Change the 'like' to 'when,'" Ianto said, and then shook his head realizing he wasn't entirely making sense. "I --"

"What?" Jack asked.

"I am never going to stop thinking about that," Ianto said with a dismayed yet enthusiastic laugh.

"Yeah. That's going on the doing again list, right?"

Again, Ianto thought, was the best word in Jack's vocabulary.

"Yeah. Maybe not involving Gwen's knickers next time."

"But you liked them," Jack teased.

"But they're Gwen's. Wait, where the hell did you get Gwen's knickers from?"

"Her desk," Jack said with bland amusement.

Ianto shook his head. "Never mind, I'll ask later, when my brain's back in. Holy shit, Jack."

Jack snorted, clearly pleased with himself.

Ianto made a noise, twisted on the tiny bed and finally kicked Gwen's panties off his ankle and onto the floor. He threw an arm around Jack and curled close, not that he had a choice if he didn't want to end up on the floor too.

They lay there like that, hot and tired and sticky, for what seemed like ages, but it was hard to know in such strange circumstances, with such strange company in the nearly cave-like space.

"We used to sleep like this," Jack mused.

"Hrmmm?" Ianto asked.

"My wife. She'd curl up like that," he said, nodding his head in Ianto's direction. "Bigger bed though. Proper house."

"Hard to imagine, sir," Ianto said, both deeply intrigued and oddly disappointed that they were back to this. He had enjoyed so being the focus of Jack's attentions.

"For me too now," Jack said, looking at him.

Ianto nodded. "I'd say I understand, but I actually can't."

"Trust me," Jack said, and kissed his forehead, "it's better that way."

Ianto thought sadly that the melancholy was back in Jack's voice, even after all that effort –- not unrewarded, but still -– to drive it away. Then, he decided to say just that.

“You sound sad again, Jack,” he said softly. “I'm sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about,” Jack replied, pulling him a little closer.

“I wanted to make it better,” he said.

“You did,” Jack said. “You do. It's just hard sometimes. I don't mean to take it out on you.”

“That's okay,” Ianto said. “I can handle it.”

“You certainly can,” Jack said appreciatively.

There was a long silence, as they both lay squashed up against each other, staring at the corrugated ceiling.

“You made an excellent girl, by the way,” Jack said finally. “What else is buried underneath that mild-mannered exterior, huh?”

“I meant to ask you about that, actually. What's with the girl thing?”

“You seemed to enjoy it,” Jack said, with a reminiscent leer.

“Sure,” Ianto said. “But you. What's up with that? I thought you were beyond our outdated 21st century boundaries, quote unquote.”

"And if I have to live with them, I'm going to live with them well," he said fondly.

"When you decide to pay attention to them," Ianto observed.

"Sure. But think about it. At a given point, sex is -- well it's pretty obvious, right? The only thing that I'm absolutely sure will be new every time is someone's reaction. Pretty good century for that."

Ianto frowned, thinking about it. "I hate to tell you this, but you make sense."

"Happens to the best of us. So what other adventures would Ianto Jones like to have?" Jack asked. There was still a heaviness behind his voice, but he wasn't quite faking his cheer either. Life, Ianto thought, was coexistence sometimes, even for someone as mercurial as Jack.

"I'd like to watch you fuck a real girl," Ianto blurted out, slightly appalled once it had escaped his lips.

"Reeeeeally?" Jack asked, surprised. "Wouldn't get jealous?"

Ianto shrugged. "Not if I chose the girl and had you after."

"Hidden depths with you. Always. Really? Have you always been like this?" Jack asked, still surprised and half wondering what the catch was.

Ianto shook his head. "Not really. Some, I guess. With Lisa. Mostly all your fault though, sir."

“Oh, I'm to blame, am I?” Jack said. “Still, why though? And why a girl?”

“I want to be able to see you.”

“You could just keep your eyes open,” Jack suggested facetiously.

“No,” Ianto said, turning so now he and Jack were facing each other, somehow needing to explain. “Sometimes it all feels like it's rushing by so fast. Life, you, work. Everything. Like it'll be gone in an eye-blink, everything, and I won't have noticed. I have to stop and remind myself to remember. To see it. That's why. It's like film. In the brain. If you capture it, you can take it out and play it whenever you want. You get to keep it.”

Jack laughed. “You know, I'm pretty sure they've already invented a way to do that. We wouldn't even need alien tech -– you could probably do it on your cell phone, if you wanted.”

Ianto elbowed him gently in the ribs. “You know what I mean,” he said.

“I do, yeah.”

“Besides,” Ianto said, “I'd rather be the one to pick your next adventure. If I leave it up to you, we might end up hiring her or something.”

"You know, that's a highly respected art in a lot of cultures."

"I meant hiring her for Torchwood," Ianto said, laughing. "Although I admit some would be hard pressed to see the difference."

"Hey now, none of that," Jack said.

"Maybe I want to watch you seduce someone."

Jack smiled, oddly flattered. "But you'd be the one closing the deal."

"So? You'd be the bait."

Jack barked with laughter, and Ianto smiled and kissed him.

"You're still sticky," Jack observed, meaning the lip gloss.

"In many places," Ianto said dryly.

Jack twisted to grab a handful of tissues and passed them to Ianto. "In case you want that nonsense off your face," Jack said.

Ianto took the tissues, looked at them and clutched them in his fist. "Later."

"Still enjoying yourself?"

"No. I mean yeah. But, if I'm still the girl, there's something I should say."

"Don't you dare accuse me of getting you pregnant," Jack teased, but it was also, clearly a deflection of Ianto's seriousness, now that his own had fled again.

Ianto shook his head and chuckled. "Not that," he said, and pressed himself up against Jack. He took a deep breath, sighed happily, let his eyes close and whispered in Jack's ear, his lips red and precise and swollen like in the movies, "I love you."

He heard Jack suck in his breath, as if someone had just hit him in the solar plexus, and Ianto was suddenly completely aghast at what he'd had the temerity to say out loud. He wasn't playing by the rules; they didn't say such things, no matter how romantic or charming Jack was, they were still, at the end of the day, comrades-in-arms, friends, lovers even -– not more, though not less. He belonged to Jack, maybe, but Jack couldn't ever belong to him, no matter how much he might wish it otherwise.

But he'd said it now, and it was true, maybe even the most truthful thing he'd ever said or felt, and there was no taking it back.

He waited. Surely Jack would know some graceful, deft way out of this. He must have been here a thousand times.

But Jack said nothing, only pressed a kiss to his temple, before reaching down and taking the crumpled tissues out of his fist to gently wipe the lipstick from Ianto's face.

"I -- " Ianto had no idea what he intended to say, merely certain that he had to say something, and maybe if he started making sounds they would form words, and the words would form sentences, and whatever the sentences said they couldn't possibly be more insane or awful or stupid than what he'd just done.

But Jack pressed his fingers to Ianto's mouth and shook his head. He didn't seem kind or alarmed, oddly flat or even stern about it, and Ianto found him impossible to read at that moment. He let his body relax though, when it was clear there was no particular reaction forthcoming at all. Continuing to vibrate in terror over it would have just been rude and demanding. He could always pass it off as part of the game later if he had to. Jack would know he was lying, but if he hadn't freaked out yet, would probably be willing to work with that particular truth if need be.

Jack made a point of not sighing, although he wanted to. Ianto would interpret it the wrong way, and probably be even more distressed at the truth of it, which was that his lovely, lovely little confession -- Ianto was so goddamn artful sometimes -- filled Jack with grief. Grief for his own carelessness and grief for Ianto who surely deserved a lover who could snore beside him in bed; grief for eventual loss and grief for the miles of it Jack already had behind him. Grief for that white hot flash of brilliance that had come with the moment of confession and reminded Jack too much of the stars.

"Your lips are still red from the gloss," Jack said eventually, rubbing his thumb across Ianto's bottom lip. He hadn't really wanted to speak, but Ianto seemed to be drowning from a lack of sound.

"I'll scrub it later."

"It's nice," Jack said quietly. "like the memory of something."

Ianto smiled slightly.

"Sleeping here?" Jack asked lightly.

"I think that's up to you, sir," Ianto said, reverting to the safe habit of the notion that they were both always working.

"Well, I'll be up doing the paperwork," Jack said, as if to indicate he didn't need his bed in a manner more polite than reminding Ianto that he actually never needed it.

"Cities," Ianto said.


"Cities of paperwork. The stacks and towers."

Jack smiled. "All right. Your cities of paperwork. So stay if you want."

“What should we do with --” and Ianto gestured with his head to Gwen's knickers, still lying where they'd been tossed to the ground.

“I'll take care of it,” Jack said. “She'll never know.”

Ianto laughed a little at that. “You don't have the best track record with loans, sir.”

“You want to thank her?” Jack asked.

“No,” Ianto yelped. “Please for the love of god, no.”

Jack smiled. “I didn't think so.”

He scrambled up off the bed, and then looked down at Ianto fondly. “Stay,” he said. “Sleep. I'll wake you in the morning.”

“Okay,” Ianto said.

He watched as Jack slipped on his clothes and snapped off the lamp. Ianto's eyes took a second to adjust to the dark; he couldn't see, but he could hear Jack begin to climb up to the hatch that opened into his office. He listened for the sound of the trap door clicking back into place, but it didn't. Then a small pool of light shone through, and Ianto thought of Jack sitting at his desk, shifting and sorting through a million pieces of paper, and leaving the door between them open so he could hear Ianto breathing in the dark.

Gifts come in all shapes and sizes, Ianto thought. I'm grateful.

Thank you, Jack.

And then there was no more thought, only sleep.


Continue to I Imagine You Now In That Other City
Tags: by rach & kali, fandom: torchwood, fanfiction, i had no idea i had been traveling
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