Jack drifted through the gaudy frontage proclaiming their dancers were "exotic" and tried to swallow the cynical voice telling him that they were no more exotic than he was a local.

Cockney slang bounced off the walls, mixing with Welsh, Scottish and even a posh British accent. Exotic my bloody arse.

It had been a long back-haul in a rusty bucket that was barely held together with sticky tape. Jack still didn't know how the vacuum of space hadn't swallowed them alive. He had stormed into the office and let his fuck-face partner know he was NEVER flying that one again. He wanted the blue, sleek ship next time.

Got paid … Now all he wanted was a nice hard fuck against a wall.

The first dancer was cute, if you liked tits that jiggled, even when she didn't. Nope.

The second dancer on the stage was long limbed and doe eyed but her only claim to fame was that she didn't fall off the bloody pole. Nope.

Number three was on four inch heels, dancing as she strutted her stuff. He was impressed but really, ping pong balls should really not be used for that.

Ew! Nope.

Then he came out. Stalking down the catwalk to retrieve her stilettoes. He made eye contact with Jack and froze.

Long, tall and slim. The black jeans hugged his hips, the sleeveless t-shirt showed his lean but nicely toned arms and as he straightened up to look at Jack more clearly, Jack could see a lovely concave stomach.

He walked to the edge of the stage and squatted, his arse moving in the jeans in such a way that Jack lost the power of speech. The nice crotch bulge didn't help its return ether.

He canted his head and smiled softly as he took Jack's glass from his hand which was still half way to his mouth and took a swallow.

"Bourbon" he grimaced, handing it back to Jack, "I prefer Vodka."

"I could buy you one" Jack offered, surprised that his voice was returned when his blood flow wasn't.

"You could buy me, if ya like." He leaned in and Jack could smell smoked cedar and peppermint. "For a while anyway."

Jack grunted and let a hand wander to that taught arse. Oh boy, smooth.

"Got credits" the soft welsh voice murmured and Jack fumbled in his pocket, pulling a handful out and thrusting them at the god like creature who smiled and accepted the offering at his alter.

He took Jack's hand and led him to a side room. Not like the rest of the place, this was clean and crisp. White surfaces with a touch of red and gold. Nice.

Jack turned to tell him so and the lovely creature was already peeling back his shirt. With a bark of warning, Jack stepped forward and caught the man's wrists behind his head, the T-shirt still covering his face. Just his mouth was bare and Jack took a taste. Just a taste.

He let the t-shirt slid off, using it like handcuffs as he trapped the man in his embrace. The man smiled, rubbing their groins together and Jack pushed him towards the bed.

"What's you name" Jack asked as the man slid down his body.

"Ianto" came a faint reply as his trousers were inspected for their fastenings.

"My left hip has a …. Aaaaaah, yeah!" Jack lifted his hips as the trousers were removed and replaced with tactile fingers. Oh, what clever digits were these?

Wet heat engulfed him, Jack grunted and threw his head back as he was deep throated, the heat sucking him into the void. Jack wondered if he was seeing the back of his skull as he writhed on the bed.

Movement stopped above him and Jack blinked blearily up at the man looming over him. Ianto.

"You are handsome" Ianto said softly, brushing his fingertips across Jack's face, then leaning down to kiss him.

Jack embraced him, pulling him down and rolling their bodies until Jack was pinning Ianto to the bed.

They were naked and Jack wasn't aware of when it happened, didn't really care as the gorgeous manhood stoking against his was deliciously long and thick. It rivalled his own staining excitement and he fisted them both as Ianto gasped and writhed, the trapped one now.

"I want to fuck you" Jack snarled as he felt his lust overflowing, pre-cum dripping onto his fist.

"Oh Gods, please do" Ianto whined, pulling his knees up so Jack could enter.

Although there was no lube already in play, the pre-cum was enough as Jack found the waiting hole both hungry and pleased to meet him.

Jack settled into the rhythm of long deep strokes as Ianto mewled and hitched his breath. Oh wonderful.

Jack felt the shifting in his gut, the tell-tale drawing in of the muscles moments before he shot his cum into the man who cried out and joined him into blissful overload.

Jack woke to a vacant room, the only reminder of the night before was the lovely afterglow still lingering.

He rose and did his morning routine and prepared to leave.

At the door he heisted and asked to see the owner, stating his intent to give a handsome tip to the young man who called himself Ianto and the doorman snorted.

He was ushered into a plush office and settled in to wait. The door swung open and Ianto entered, a book in his hands as he argued with someone on an ear-comm.

He saw Jack and hesitated, then closed both the comm link and the phone. He grinned and canted his head, like he had the night before.

"You didn't like it?" he purred, letting Jack approach with confusion.

"I did" Jack confirmed, reaching for him.

Ianto let him pull their hips together and stroked his cheek. "I missed you darling, you've lost weight."

"I know, too much work on these days it seems. Our visits are getting further apart" Jack agreed with a groan and Ianto softly cursed the trousers that were in the way.

"Ask fuck-face to take up more slack, you took this assignment so we could have more time, not less Jackson!" Ianto demanded with a pout and Jack laughed.

"Yes dear"

"Oi! I am not the fucking wife! Or do I need to remind you who is wearing the ring?" Ianto demanded of his husband as he flicked is fingers against Jack's crotch so the cock-ring moved as Jack gasped.

"Now be a good boy and fetch me some breakfast" Ianto ordered as he settled behind his desk and Jack laughed as he hurried to comply. Knowing the tip would be welcomed better on a full stomach, hopefully not just the tip, if that desk was sturdy enough.

Wouldn't do to upset the boss, now would it!