Heaven is a Trick of the Light
There are times, millions of miles from home and hundreds if not thousands of years in the future, when Jack is positive he sees Ianto Jones. Each time brings to mind an episode with Ianto. Each time he is saddened to find it was only a cruel trick of the light that momentarily turned a stranger into a long-dead but still beloved Welshman.
'Just the Universe mocking me yet again, having fun at my expense.'
Jack was on Brakit 3, attending the anniversary party of Prince Regent Piccinci, which was held every twenty-seven years to celebrate the Prince's marriage to his most recent wife. One traditional element of the party was the re-enactment of the fierce battle in which the Prince won the hand of said wife, the Princess Royal, Princess Komoki.
Tucked beneath the massive above-ground roots ofa large Aztak tree, Jack peered through the eye piece of his weapon, an alien version of an old-Earth paintball gun. He adjusted the sight on the scope, zeroing in on a fellow combatant, albeit an 'enemy' one. The larger of Brakit 3's two suns was at just the right angle in the sky that it kept glinting annoyingly off a window in a nearby building, making it difficult to see the face clearly.
With a small shift of his shoulders, Jack was able to avoid the glare just long enough to see the other man clearly and when he did his breath caught in his throat.
"Ianto?"
The gun he was holding fell into the dirt as Jack's eyes filled with tears.
"Ianto!"
Unbidden but certainly not unwelcome a memory sprang to mind, a vision from centuries ago when he and Ianto were down in the Hub's gun range.
The Tarbal weapon was large and unwieldy, a gift from the Rift a few months back which Owen and Toshiko had collected during a violent thunderstorm that swept in from Cardiff Bay when no one was looking. When Ianto had classified it in preparation for storage in the Secure Archives, the closest thing he could come up with for comparison was a 19th century Gatling gun combined with a modern sniper rifle. It actually weighed very little despite its size but unless one knew how to hold it properly, it kicked worse than that proverbial mule. Jack was just nineteen and at the Time Agency the first time he'd fired one, and it had actually knocked him flat on his arse and broken his collarbone.
Not wanting Ianto to suffer the same indignity and injury, Jack adjusted Ianto's grip and settled the stock more carefully in the hollow of the younger man's shoulder.
"Now put your fingers here…" Jack set the digits correctly, "and your thumb goes here…" He moved Ianto's thumb just so.
Ianto studied the placement of his hand, flexing his fingers just a bit. He thought he was crazy when he felt the grip move beneath his fingertips so he lifted them and pressed them on more firmly. When he was ready, he glanced at Jack and nodded.
"Okay, when you're ready, take a deep breath, let half of it out and then hold." With a trademark Harkness grin, Jack pressed himself against his Welshman's backside, moulding their bodies together.
Ianto did as Jack said, all the while dealing with the older man's hardness pressing into the cleft of his buttocks. As he stilled his breathing, he gently squeezed the gun's trigger, sending a bolt of pure energy flying down the alley and into the bullseye of the target at the far end of the shooting range. Even though he had both feet solidly planted and Jack bracing him from behind, Ianto still felt himself rock backwards from the force of the weapon's discharge.
"Easy there, tiger," Jack nuzzled Ianto's neck. "I told you it's got quite a kick."
Ianto smiled in return as he lowered the weapon and twisted in Jack's arms, turning his head and planting a kiss on his lover's lips. "Yes, you did." He deepened his kiss, reaching blindly behind the man for a place to set the gun. Even with the thought of having Jack right then and there against the wall or on the of the floor of the gun range, Ianto still retained enough of his faculties to know he shouldn't just drop the alien weapon the stone floor.
"If you're looking for my arse it's a little bit lower and to your left." Jack's voice was slightly muffled due to his face being buried in the crook of Ianto's neck. He let his tongue slip out to lick that special spot behind the Welshman's ear.
Ianto chuckled, both at Jack's words and at the tickle from the man's oh-so-talented tongue. "Good to know, Sir, but I was actually looking to put the gun down safely."
"Oh, yeah…" Jack shifted his position just enough so that he could slide one hand down to Ianto's crotch, where he cradled the bulge he found there. His fingers began scrabbling at the zipper's pull tab, trying to access the treasure hidden behind.
"Jack?"
"Hmmm…"
Ianto squirmed as Jack's fingers slid beneath the layers of fabric and wrapped around his flesh. "Jack, I still have the gun," he managed to get out.
It took several seconds for those six words to penetrate the immortal's lust-addled brain but when they did Jack's training automatically took over. He pulled his hand free of Ianto's trousers and took hold of the alien weapon instead.
"This isn't like an Earth gun, Yan." His voice was amazingly steady and clear given his distraction just seconds before. "You have to disengage yourself from it." He set Ianto's fingers back on the grip, placing them exactly where they had been before.
"Right, now the weapon is programmed to your DNA. If anyone else were to try and use it would backfire on them killing them instantly."
"You're kidding me!" Ianto's tone was incredulous.
"Nope." Jack shook his head.
"Why…?"
Jack interrupted. "Disarm first, then explanation." His voice was firm. "Now, keep your left hand on the grip and with your trigger finger press this small button…" He guided Ianto's other hand to the point where the barrel exited the stock. "Right here." He pressed Ianto's forefinger against a button smaller than a pencil eraser.
Ianto felt the tiniest of tremors beneath his hands as the gun disengaged and he let go a breath he hadn't realised he was holding then glanced at Jack for confirmation that everything was all right.
"And there you go!" Jack grinned at him as he took the gun and laid it on the table beside him. Gathering Ianto into his arms he asked, "now, where were we?"
Returning Jack's lusty advances for a few minutes, Ianto finally pulled back just as his trousers hit the floor. He hadn't even realised that Jack had loosened his belt and slipped the button free, letting the unzippered wool slide down his legs. "Hold on a second," he mumbled against Jack's lips.
"Now what?" Jack slipped a hand beneath Ianto's shirt and found a nipple to tweak.
"…planation…" Ianto gasped as Jack flicked his finger against the tiny nub.
"Huh?" Jack was trying to get Ianto's shirt unbuttoned with only one hand, leaving the other fee to reach inside white cotton Y-fronts and grasp his lover's erection.
It took some doing on Ianto's part but he was able to muster his thoughts enough to say, "Explanation."
With a frown Jack looked at him. "Well, when two people love each other very much they often…" His words were cut off when Ianto clapped a hand over his mouth.
"The weapon, Jack. My DNA and the weapon, remember?"
"Oh yeah." It was a struggle but Jack pulled his eyes away from Ianto's considerable and highly excited attributes and looked instead at his face.
The Welshman rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Well?"
His sharp tone prompted Jack to finally speak. "It's a safety mechanism."
"Tell me something I don't know, Jack."
"If you're wounded or killed in battle, and the enemy gets a hold of your weapon, it will blow up in their face when they try to use it."
"That's barbaric! However…" Ianto started but Jack interrupted him.
"You get to kill your target whether you're dead or alive, and they don't get their hands on another weapon to use against you or your troops."
Ianto poked him in the chest. "You didn't let me finish. I was going to say, it's barbaric but genius."
Having answered the question, Jack had already turned his attention back to Ianto's body. He made quick work of the shirt's buttons and then he bent his head and took a nipple between his teeth, worrying the sensitive bud until it was diamond-hard and then he moved over to the other side, giving it equal attention and effort.
With shaking fingers Ianto took advantage of Jack's preoccupation to unbutton the older man's shirt and open his trousers. Hs efforts to push the garment to the floor were hampered when he realised that Jack's braces were in the way. Frustrated he shrugged out of his own shirt and using Jack for support, he dropped his pants and then stepped out of his clothes, toeing off his shoes and socks.
It took some doing but Ianto managed to slip Jack's braces from his shoulders, push his trousers and pants to the floor, work his shirt off his arms, and then last but not least, he maneuvered Jack's T-shirt up and over his head. He pushed Jack backwards til his butt hit the worktable in the corner, where he encouraged the immortal to sit so he could remove his boots and socks. Before he kicked all the clothing out of the way, he retrieved the always-present sachet of lube from Jack's trouser pocket.
Ianto Jones became a man on a mission. His cock was rock hard and demanding attention so without further delay, he carefully but thoroughly prepared Jack and then spread the remaining lube on his own throbbing cock. Pushing Jack backwards on table, Ianto quickly thrust into Jack's willing body, seating himself deeply.
Lying beneath his gorgeous Welshman and filled to the brim with his eager flesh, Jack stared up at Ianto. It wasn't often that the younger man took control; obviously, there was something about the firing range… or the alien weapon that really, really excited him. It didn't matter, having Ianto in charge and demanding was definitely and highly erotic. With a delighted grin on his face, Jack wrapped his legs around his Welshman's waist and hung on for the ride of his life.
"Ianto!" With that cry Jack leapt from his place of concealment and went charging full-bore across the narrow expanse of no-man's land.
The man Jack had been observing and was now approaching had been dying for a pee for more than an hour and it had finally gotten to the point of severe pain. He decided that it was either relieve himself immediately or wet himself like a two-year-old. He turned to the tree beside him and stood his rifle against it, easily reachable in case of attack. Ten years in the Prince Regent's standing army had taught him to be prepared for anything.
With a quick flip of his trouser's flap and a yank of the zipper, he set his cock free and then to the immense relief of his poor abused bladder he began to urinate against the tree trunk. He was so enjoying the feeling of emptying his bladder – he was positive he could actually feel it shrinking inside his body – that he didn't see the man running at him until he was just a few feet away.
Under normal circumstances, he would never have abandoned his post in such a way. He was a decorated soldier, good at his job, and in a few months' time he would become the youngest self-defence training instructor ever promoted. However, between all the ale he had consumed the night before at the anniversary festivities combined with the fact that his commanding officer had delayed him on his way to the toilets this morning, he hadn't had a chance to go to the bathroom before going out to participated in the celebratory 'war games'.
There was a part him that was so intent on the pleasure of peeing that he didn't really register Jack's approach. Fortunately, the ingrained reflexes of a soldier kicked in at just the right moment for him to turn his head around, see the enemy a few feet away and grab his rifle, swinging it up to point it at centre mass on Jack's torso.
"Halt!" the man commanded loudly.
Only a few feet separated Jack from the ominous-looking gun barrel and even though in the back of his mind he knew it was just a paintball gun and therefore not lethal, survival instincts kicked in and Jack froze in place, hands in the air.
"Ianto, it's me!" The instant the words left Jack's mouth he knew the man he was looking at was not Ianto Jones, just a fairly passable look-alike. The realisation deflated him like a pricked balloon and his hands fell to his sides. "You are not my Ianto, are you," he stated in a flat voice.
"No, I'm sorry, I am not." The man lowered his rifle and held out his hand. "I'm Yannik Fastul."
Jack accepted the handshake. "Jack Harkness."
"This man, this Ianto Jones, he must have been someone very special to you."
Jack frowned. "Why do you say that?" In the back of his mind he was starting to understand his actions, the why most especially, while his little voice was saying 'what a stupid thing to do, leaving the protection of the Aztak tree!'
Yannik snorted. "You just ran straight across no-man's land, unarmed, directly at me, the enemy."
An additional Jack Harkness survival instinct finally kicked in and he smirked broadly, pointing at Yannik's crotch. "What do you think I'm going to do when I see that waving hello at me?"
Confused, Yannik glanced down to see his penis still hanging out of his trousers. Horrified, he dropped his gun into the shrubbery and clapped both hands over his exposed flesh.
"You don't have to do that on my account," Jack purred seductively, arching one eyebrow as he purposefully looking downward when he caught Yannik's eye. "It's much too pretty to hide."
Whirling around, the humiliated man pushed his cock back inside his clothing and then tried desperately to pull up the zipper but his fumbling fingers caused it to become stuck in the extra fabric of the flap.
Fighting to keep the tears in his eyes from falling, Yannik realised there was no way he could fix the problem on his own. His shoulder's sagging in defeat, the Royal Guard turned back to face his 'enemy'.
Jack's first thought was to leer an invitation as the man turned to him but when he saw the distressed look in Yannik's eyes all erotic pretence and seductive intent vanished. Instead, he felt nothing but concern and empathy for the man. Raising his hands slightly, Jack offered, "let me help?" He gestured at Yannik's crotch while maintaining eye contact. "Looks like you need more than two hands for that." Mentally he cringed when he heard his words. 'Damn it! Owen was right; I really am a walking talking innuendo!'
"I didn't mean that the way it sounded!" he hurried to reassure the other man. "Sometimes I don't think before I speak." A brief smile flashed across his face. "Ianto used to tell me that."
Yannik studied Jack for a moment; he could see the sincerity in his eyes. "All right, please?" he reluctantly agreed. He knew he really didn't have a choice; he couldn't appear out of uniform at this stage of his career, not with his promotion so close he could taste it.
Making sure to leave a proper amount of space between them, Jack dropped to his knees and waited for Yannik to move his hands so he could fully see the problem. "Oooh, piece of cake!" Jack exclaimed and was startled when Yannik took a large step back, his eyes narrowed and wary.
Again, belatedly, Jack heard his words. "No!" He raised his hands in supplication. "I'm sorry! That means it's going to be easy to fix, that it's not a big problem!" He smiled reassuringly. "I wasn't referring to…" He gestured again without losing eye contact.
Despite his qualms, Yannik sighed deeply and stepped forward, back within Jack's reach.
Moving slowly so he didn't startle the man again, Jack moved his hands to Yannik's crotch. He gently moved the man's fingers out of the way and surveyed the situation; it didn't look that bad from his perspective. "We can fix this, no problem." Jack tugged experimentally. "Okay, yeah, the fabric is caught but just a little. I think maybe you were pulling on the wrong bit."
"Stop talking and just do it!" Yannik was well aware of how the scene would appear to anyone who looked in their direction. He briefly considered moving them behind the tree but immediately reconsidered, knowing it was the lesser of two evils to stay in plain sight.
"Okay, you hold this…" Jack put one of Yannik's hands at the waistband, "and then the other one here." He pointed at the bottom of the zipper; he didn't want to touch the man's genitals, even accidentally.
Yannik became aware of a very enticing scent wafting beneath his nose as Jack leaned in closer. He could feel his cock twitch even though he knew Jack was doing his very best to keep from touching him. 'Stop it!' he scolded himself. 'Now is not the time or the place!'
"Okay…" Jack rested his hands on his thighs and waiting until he had Yannik's full attention. "Pull on both ends and keep it taut, yeah?" He reached out but didn't touch anything yet. "I'm going to move the zipper and pull the fabric free, okay?"
He waited til Yannik nodded and then he carefully pinched the trousers' flap between his fingers, taking great care not to touch the man himself. It took several minutes of delicate manoeuvring but finally the teeth of the zipper were free and the trousers properly closed.
Tears of relief caught in Yannik's throat. He had been dreading being caught even slightly out of uniform; his commanding officer was insanely particular about his soldiers' appearance and Yannik didn't want to risk incurring his wrath for anything, especially not on such an important day as His Majesty's anniversary. 'It would probably have meant the end of my military career.'
Jack stood, dusted off his knees and looked at Yannik. "No harm done." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry I came running up to you like that."
"It was the last thing I was expecting, that's for sure."
"I should also say thanks for not shooting me, even if they aren't live rounds," Jack nodded.
"Would have done if I'd had my rifle in my hands instead of my gun," Yannik admitted ruefully.
Jack laughed as he heard the old Earth saying and the words swiftly crossed his mind. 'This is my rifle, this is my gun. This one is for fighting, this one's for fun!' Apparently, some things were universal.
"Out of curiosity, why did you cross no-man's land?" Yannik asked.
"Just for a moment there," Jack's face and shoulders fell. "I thought you were someone else."
"Ahhh…" was all Yannik could think of to say.
Jack turned and started walking away but Yannik was certain he heard the words, "turns out it was just a trick of the light."
End