Summary: Ianto gets a little innovative, bordering on the avant-garde.
Characters: Jack H., Ianto J.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: M, PWP.
Warnings: Sexual content, bondage, control.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters or plot lines, nor do I receive money from these stories.
A/N: Just a little bit of fun. Very PWP, no apologies. If you like this, please review! Thanks as always to my muse, my friend and my talented beta, triquetralin.
Clothes Make the Man
Ianto didn't wait for Jack to finish stepping down into the small cubbyhole room underneath the office. Grasping his captain by the waistband of his trousers, he tugged, causing Jack to stumble off the last rung of the ladder. The heavy manhole cover in Jack's hands slipped and crashed down into place with a loud clang. Luckily they were the only ones in the Hub for it to bother. Even Myfanwy, the resident pteranodon, was off for a midnight fly around town.
"Impatient, aren't we?" Jack chuckled, steadying himself against the ladder as Ianto leaned into his body. Not that he was complaining; his own hands were busy tugging Ianto's shirt up out of his trousers.
Ianto's lips and crotch made contact with Jack's at the same time, his hips grinding in rhythm to his deep, wet kisses. Jack groaned loudly, although the sound was largely muffled by Ianto's mouth.
It took a moment for Jack to notice that while his hands had reached skin and were taking advantage of the fact, Ianto's hands hadn't moved from where they gripped Jack's waistband.
"Better catch up," Jack teased breathlessly, working the buttons of Ianto's shirt with one hand and the button and zipper of his trousers with the other. "You'll be naked and then what'll you do with my hands all over you?"
Ianto just chuckled, concentrating on devastating Jack's mouth and neck with kisses and bites. He only pulled away long enough to step out of his trousers when they fell to his ankles, letting Jack tug off his shirt and tie.
"I win!" Jack laughed as the last piece of Ianto's clothing hit the floor. Chatter was a part of foreplay to Jack – his mouth just as busy joking and flirting as it was kissing and nibbling – and Ianto never minded; he loved to feel the words, hot and wet against his skin. He let his head fall back as Jack trailed his tongue down his chest, eyes closed and his fingers gripping Jack's shirt tightly, moaning even as he pressed his half-hard cock against Jack's trousers. He could feel the hard thigh muscles and the thick presence of Jack's own cock straining against the fabric.
The room was close and dark and although it was always cold from the concrete and stone, Ianto felt nothing but heat from their bodies. Jack's hand squeezed between them, grasping Ianto's cock and Ianto grunted, shoving his hips harder, grinding his cock against bare hand and clothing.
When Jack started to tear at the buttons of his own shirt, Ianto moved, quickly pushing Jack's hand away.
"What? You want to strip me like I stripped you? Come on, then!"
Ianto ran his fingers carelessly down the buttons of Jack's shirt, his nails catching on the cotton under shirt as buttons snapped and popped open. Letting go of Jack's wrist, he shoved the shirt off his shoulders, unbuttoning the cuffs. Using the sleeves of Jack's shirt, Ianto tied each of the captain's wrists to the vertical posts of the ladder. With his hands now bound and Ianto leaning heavily against his body, Jack couldn't wriggle free.
"Oh, you little sneak!" Jack arched, but that just made him rub more against Ianto's naked body. Seeing so much of the young man's bare skin and being unable to touch it made him crazy.
"Shh," Ianto finally spoke, peppering Jack's lips and jawline with soft kisses, which really didn't help matters. "I'm not going to leave you like this ... not for long anyway. Trust me and it'll be worth it. Okay?"
There was enough doubt and concern in Ianto's eyes that Jack relaxed immediately, not wanting him to back down from whatever devilish plan he had in mind. The young man was almost as kinky as Jack was; he just needed encouragement.
"I trust you," Jack murmured, nipping at Ianto's lip and smirking as the young man teasingly pulled away. "What'cha going to do? Leave me hanging on the ladder while you go wank on the bed?" As soon as he had said it, Jack mentally kicked himself. Trussed up and still nearly completely clothed, he was already sweating, his trousers agonizingly tight. Watching Ianto touch himself would just make it worse.
"Oh no, I promise I'm not going far," Ianto answered. His hands were finally moving, stroking Jack everywhere, but nowhere that wasn't covered by clothing. Only his mouth touched skin, kissing and nibbling Jack's lips and neck.
"Oh god, Ianto! Touch me!" Jack bucked, wrapping a leg around Ianto's hip as his arse was grasped tightly through his trousers. But Ianto kept at least one layer of clothing between his roving fingers and Jack's body. The chafing rub of cloth on hot skin, the hard rutting of their two bodies not quite close enough, shot Jack back to adolescent memories and his body responded with a rush of adrenalin-fuelled desire that made him dizzy.
The one difference from those teenage years was that Ianto wasn't as gentle or tentative as Jack's long-lost lovers. Nails scraped down Jack's spine, hard enough to snag the cotton fibres and leave hot trails on his skin. With his thigh nudged hard between Jack's legs, Ianto let his cock rub against the wool trousers, his shaft bumping the firm shape under the fabric. He reached down and grasped a thick handful, stroking Jack hard and rough knowing the layers would protect against nails and pinching.
The clothing gave Jack sensations he'd never felt this intensely before. Clothing was a means to an end – something to tantalize the fantasies and to be removed as fast as possible. Ianto was using Jack's clothing against him, restricting and stroking him in new ways. Ianto's touch was still there, the familiar push and shove of muscle – Jack loved being taken roughly – but there was that agonizing lack of immediacy from the barrier of cloth. It was the clothing that was teasing him, fucking him, tugged and pulled by Ianto like he was some deviant puppet master.
Ianto shoved his hand down the front of Jack's trousers, caught tightly by his belt and closed fly, and Jack groaned loudly, nearly coming, but Ianto was still only touching him through his pants. Sweat-soaked patches of cotton chafed stickily even as Ianto played the cloth over his cock like a second foreskin.
"Please, Ianto!"
"Not yet," the young man breathed, his teeth sharp on Jack's earlobe. He licked a path along Jack's stubbled neck then went back to using his teeth as his mouth crossed the slightly stretched collar of his under shirt. Nipping shirt and skin he left wet spots across Jack's chest until he found an already hard nipple. Sucking it firmly into his mouth, he rasped the shirt fabric with his tongue until it was wet enough to show the nipple through the thin material. His breath, hot and cold, had Jack shuddering.
The metal ladder was digging into Jack's arms as he strained and arched. He'd almost forgotten that Ianto was naked until the young man brushed against Jack's bare elbow. The sudden touch was electric. His begging became more frantic as he rocked his hips into Ianto's hand.
"Ianto! Please, I'm going ... I don't want ...!"
Ianto wasn't going to let him free, though, and Jack felt his gut tighten with a long-forgotten embarrassment as he came into his pants, the hot spurts quickly turning cold and clammy. Ianto held him steady, his hips still rocking slowly against Jack's thigh. Slipping his hand into the waistband of Jack's now soaked pants almost had Jack coming again, his cock surging into Ianto's warm palm.
"You're going to ... thoroughly mess up my trousers," Jack panted as Ianto continued to rub against Jack's leg. "I bet you won't be able to look the dry cleaners in the eye."
"Hah!" Ianto snorted, his grip squeezing Jack's cock hard enough to make the captain gasp. He had no time to say more as the sensation and the sound threw him over the edge and he orgasmed, smearing his own come into shirt and trousers.
Freeing Jack a few moments later, Ianto peeled the filthy clothes off him, dropping them into a pile on the floor. "I think of everything," he said with a self-satisfied grin as he tugged Jack down to the cot, snuggling them both under the sheets. "I have already bought you a new pair of trousers and a shirt. These clothes are going in the trash, so you've lost that bet."
Jack chuckled, not minding at all.