Title: break me, remake me
Rating: NC-17
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Jack, Ianto; Jack/Ianto
Summary: It's Jack turn to give a little comfort. Written for rounds_of_kink on LJ.
Warning/Kinks: Explicit sexual acts, bondage
Disclaimer: Torchwood and associated characters belong to BBC and RTD.
Notes: Takes place after Countrycide.
It's such an innocent gesture. "Come up, Ianto," Jack cajoles, and closes his hand around Ianto's wrist, ready to tug him bodily from the Archives and up to the Hub for lunch. He doesn't expect Ianto to pull away with a panicky twist, then back up so quickly against nearest solid surface so that the back of his head connects dully with the edge of filing cabinet.
"Ianto?"
Ianto remains backed up against the cabinet, rubbing his other hand around the wrist Jack had gripped. When he looks up, the paleness of panic is ebbing from his face, to be replaced by the pink flush of embarrassment.
Jack reaches for Ianto's shoulder this time, and pretends not to notice the minute flinch that travels through the younger man before his hand connects.
"Ianto, are you all right?"
It's a stupid question, because of course Ianto'll say yes and he does, with a spasmodic nod and a small, forced smile that doesn't reach his eyes. His eyes which are still wide with panic, darting around, wary, the eyes of a frightened, wounded animal.
Jack leads the way up the stairs and to the top, conscious the whole time of how his hands hang stiffly by his side, too heavy, large and dangerous.
oOo
The moment Tosh walks out of the door, the last to leave besides him and Ianto, Jack gets up and out of his office, and makes sure his footsteps are audible, so that by the time he reaches Ianto, the younger man has turned minutely in his direction, acknowledging his presence and probably awaiting some kind of instruction or order.
Under different circumstances, Jack would have settled behind Ianto, put his hands on those tense shoulders and kneaded his fingers into those muscles, but this time he makes sure to stay within Ianto's line of sight and carefully drops a hand to Ianto's shoulder. He's pleased to note that this time there's no flinch, though the muscles under his hand are tight and stiff.
"Stay tonight," he entreats and makes sure to keep his voice light, enquiring. Even after Lisa, Ianto is all too ready to do whatever Jack asks and he does not want to make this an order.
Ianto looks hesitant at first, his gaze flickering uncertainly from the computer screen to the hand on his shoulder then back and forth for several seconds until he nods, the movement tiny and almost imperceptible.
oOo
Jack likes watching Ianto strip. There's something incredibly erotic about watching his fastidiously buttoned up archivist slowly slip off his jacket, undo his tie and then pull it off with a zzzzt from around his neck. Those pretty nimble fingers working steadily on the buttons of his shirt, then his belt and then the fly of his pants. The moment of shy hesitation when he hooks his thumb in the waistband of his briefs, then pulls them down, revealing a generous cock at half-mast. Of course, every single item of clothing is folded and laid away neatly, while Jack still stands with his pants around his ankles and his shirt half unbuttoned. He's probably drooling a little. His mouth's definitely somewhat agape. Ianto smiles at him, half shy, half smug, then crouches to pull Jack's pants off his feet, which of course puts his mouth in the vicinity of Jack's rapidly filling cock. Bloody tease. On any other day, he'd let Ianto take him in his mouth, card his hands through that thick dark hair as he watches those pouty lips frame his erection, feel Ianto's tongue, throat and the barest hint of teeth work around his cock. But not tonight.
He rapidly sheds his shirt and tosses it onto the dresser, then gestures Ianto to get onto the bed. Ianto flops awkwardly onto the narrow mattress, lies on his stomach with his chin propped on his hands and his feet waving in the air, watching Jack curiously and completely unaware exactly how hot he looks. Tousled by Jack's hands, his fringe flops a little into his face and Jack catches a glint in those blue eyes, the tiniest of smirks. Okay, maybe not so unaware.
Once he's found what he's been looking for, he joins Ianto on the bed, crawling up and over the younger man as Ianto twists to face him. The moment they're level, Jack lowers his head and catches a moist lower lip between his teeth, sucks and nips a little before allowing himself to be drawn into a deep penetrating kiss.
When they separate for air, Jack gropes along the bed until he finds what he's retrieved from his toybox. Straddling Ianto's waist, he lays the blindfold and the leather cuffs on Ianto's chest and cups Ianto's face in his hands.
"Trust me?" he asks, making sure they're making eye contact.
Ianto nervously licks his lips, and his gaze flickers down to the restraints on his chest. "Do I have a choice?"
Jack swipes a thumb across his cheekbone, drawing his gaze back up again. "Always," he says firmly, "always."
Ianto breathes a sigh. "God help me," he mutters, then in a stronger voice, says "Yes."
"Thank you."
"But-"
"Safe words. I know."
"Weevil," says Ianto.
Jack can't help but smile. "Okay." He lets his weight fall on Ianto's hips a little more and feels the other man's erection poke him in the small of his back. Ianto groans and wiggles, and Jack can feel trails of pre-ejaculate smear across his back, warm at first but rapidly cooling.
"Tease," Ianto hisses. Jack winks and shifts his weight, causing Ianto's hand to fly to his mouth where he bites down on his wrist to suppress a groan. "Fuck you, Jack."
Jack smirks and leans down briefly to press a chaste kiss to his lips, then picks up the silk blindfold from Ianto's chest and runs the ties through fingers, letting the ends trail down and drag over Ianto's throat and shoulders.
"Okay, I'm going to put the blindfold on. Is that all right?"
Ianto bites his lips and nods shortly, and closes his eyes when Jack slides the soft material over his face and across his eyes. "Sit up a little."
Ianto pushes himself up on his elbows so that Jack can tie the blindfold behind his head. Once it's secure, Jack cradles his head and lowers it gently back onto the pillow.
"All right?"
He gets a tight nod in return. Ianto's lips are pressed tightly together, and the deep, even breaths are slightly forced. His hands are curled into fists.
Jack makes sure to keep his tone low and soothing when he speaks. "Remember, it's me. And you're in control. Anytime you feel it's too much, say the word and I'll stop."
Ianto inhales, a deep, shaky breath, then, voice slightly hoarse, he says, "I'm good. Just… keep going and… talk to me, a bit."
"Okay," says Jack. He takes Ianto's left hand, still a fist, and one by one, gently pries the fingers loose. They give easily enough, but the fingers on his other fist curl tighter. Jack raises the the hand to his mouth, the seals his lips over the middle three, drawing them in with his tongue.
Ianto squirms, then falls still and sighs. The fingers of his other hand uncurl a little.
Jack trails his licks away the sweat of salt, sucks around each long finger, tongues the webbing between. Then he slips the fingers from his mouth and never once letting go Ianto's hand, tightens the smooth leather cuff around his wrist (soft, supple, not hard and cold like metal) and then gets to work on the other hand. Ianto's breathing speeds up a little, and once he's been fully secured, Jack scoots back to find that he's still hard.
Good. That's good.
"I'm going to touch you now," he warns, then starts trailing his fingers down Ianto's chest, carding through the hair that grows there. He wets a finger, traces a spiral around the left nipple, then redoes it with his tongue. When his lips close over the darkened areole, Ianto whimpers. Jack teases a little, flicking his tongue over the hardened nub in little darts, then gently takes it between his teeth and tugs.
"Oh, fu-uck."
He looks up. "You like that, don't you?"
"Don't stop."
Jack turns his attention to the other nipple, but continues to toy with the left with his hand; rubbing, teasing, pinching.
He should have done this ages ago, he thinks, should have tied Ianto up and teased him until he begged. He has to admit that Ianto's first time with him probably wasn't the best, bent over the table, stationary digging into his flesh. Still, he'd heard no complaints.
Stopping his ministrations on Ianto chest, Jack traces a line with his tongue up to Ianto's clavicle, but jerks up in surprise when Ianto lashes out with his foot, kicking out hard enough to shake the bed. He's breathing hard and they're more gasps of panic than of pleasure and Jack glances at the restraints to see that Ianto's hand are curled into fists again.
He leans down and takes Ianto face between his hands. "Ianto, Ianto. It's me."
Ianto's breathing calms slightly.
"Do you want to stop?" He moves his hands down so that they're now caressing Ianto's neck and throat.
A sigh shivers through Ianto's body and he shakes his head. "No."
"Okay. Remember your safeword?"
"Weevil."
"Good." He drops his mouth to Ianto's neck and presses an open mouthed kiss to his throat. He can feel Ianto's blood pulse beneath his lips, rapid, strong. Jack sucks, and laves with his tongue, focusing on the fading scar, a souvenir from the cannibal's cleaver, but makes sure it's never hard enough to bruise. He knows Ianto doesn't like evidence of their … arrangement to show.
By now Jack's painfully hard and eager to come, and the sounds Ianto makes aren't helping either. He moves down a little until he's settled between Ianto's legs and their erections brush. He groans and under him, Ianto bucks his hips.
He makes a loose fist around their erections and drags up, its path slicked with precum, then reverses the motion, tugging their foreskins down and brushing a thumb over Ianto's exposed glans, then his own.
"Fuck, Jack."
"Ianto," he groans in return, and takes his other hand to his own cock, pumping their erections separately before joining them again between his palms, running his fingers over the throbbing veins at the bottom, and thumbing lightly at the heads.
It doesn't take long for Ianto to come first with a long groan, spilling his release over Jack's fingers and his belly. Jack doesn't let go and continues to rub their erections together until his own orgasm spatters hot ejaculate on Ianto's stomach and chest.
"Jack," Ianto moans contentedly as Jack lazily grabs the packet of wet wipes from the bedside table and cleans him up before flopping down next to him on the bed to watch Ianto's chest rise and fall as his breathing evens out.
He's just about to doze of when Ianto nudges him dangerously close to the balls with his knee and asks him to untie him.
"How was it?" Jack asks as he undoes the blindfold.
Ianto blinks rapidly to allow his eyes to adjust to the light, then looks up at Jack and smiles. This time it reaches his eyes. "Good. Thank you."
"No problem." He unbuckles the cuffs, pressing a kiss to each wrist as he releases it, then lets the restraints drop to the floor.
He's just about made himself comfortable, tucked between Ianto and the wall with his head pillowed partly on Ianto's chest when Ianto shifts beneath him, rolls free and gets out of bed.
Jack elbows up on one hand. "Where are you going?"
"Back," says Ianto simply, eyebrow raised, half turning back to him while his hand freezes mid-stretch for his shirt.
"Stay," he says, and curls a hand around Ianto's wrist, tugging him towards the bed. This time there's no flinch, no twitch. Instead, something like lust stirs in those bright, blue eyes. "Stay the night."
Ianto doesn't reply, but he falls back into Jack and that's answer enough.
Fin
