As he fell exhausted back into the welcoming support of the chair, Jack couldn't help but note the absolute perfection of the display before his eyes. Ianto's ungraceful spill across the unyielding wooden desk could be an encyclopedia illustration for "debauched". Lines of red trailed over the younger mans hips in testimony to the clutch of Jack's fingers. Here and there along sculpted shoulders bloomed patches of purple and red matching the shape of his own 51st century dentistry. For once Ianto's pressed suit and starched collar had surrendered to entropy and lay in a rumpled pile entwined with his own discarded trousers and shirt.
Sticky with sweat, itchy with drying semen, achy from the exertion... all of it mattered for naught as Jack calmed his own breathing. It has been a long time since he's been this focused in a moment of time, lost enough to forget the burdens of command and the torment of immortality. The sound of Ianto's ragged breathing is the sweetest of songs, even as it slowed and steadied to the familiar rhythm he hears every day. He watched the deliberate contraction and release of muscle in Ianto's thighs and understands the need to verify operation of all moving parts before commencing motion. Even with all proper preparation he noted a slight wince as Ianto straightens and stands, palms prudently braced against the desktop.
Jack wants to see the eyes, to understand why this happened. He's not regretting it for a second but the suddenness of Ianto's words in the crypt had caught him unaware. For him it was as surprising as seeing a man sprout a second head for Ianto to take their casual banter and turn it on him like a weapon. With one decisive statement Ianto had erased the line between innuendo and invitation.
Ianto broke the silence first while reaching across the desk to grasp the stopwatch. "I suppose you should keep this in a safe place, sir."
He had to suppress a wince at the "sir". If they were still boss and employee in Ianto's mind then a sweeping horde of complications was about to arise. Jack chose his next words with care, "I think its in the best of hands right now."
As Ianto whirled to face him whatever look Jack was expecting to see, this tableau of quiet concern wasn't it. He felt himself being examined and couldn't help wondering if Ianto was seeing what he expected. At last Ianto seemed satisfied with what his eyes studied and gave a small shrug before reaching down to extract pants and trousers from the disarray at their feet. Jack watched as Ianto reassembled himself with quick practiced motions, resuming his natural appearance with a speed Jack both loathed and envied; loathing for having all that amazing body hidden from view, envy that for all his years of experience Jack never looked anything but post-coital for hours after an encounter like this.
Like magic, Ianto's hands perfectly smoothed tousled hair and wrinkled clothing in a transformation that was nearly miraculous. When Ianto handed over his own clothing Jack bundled it carelessly into a ball under one arm, inspiring the faintest flicker of disapproval. He grinned with genuine amusement as he at last rose from his chair and stretched his own tight shoulders, "They are just going out to the laundry in any case, I plan to shower before I get in to anything else."
Ianto's eyes flicked over the desk and the pile of rumpled documents scattered on the surface. When Ianto spoke the tone was devoid of any emotion. "I'll take care of this, you'll need to alter the internal cameras yourself." The magicians hands were already moving over the papers turning jumble to order with amazing rapidity.
Jack couldn't stop himself. One hand shot forward and caught Ianto's arm, pulling them face to face. "Why, Ianto, why. Why tonight?" A kind of desperation colored his words built of all his fears; losing this team, Suzie's betrayal, that Ianto could never forgive him.
Ianto met his eyes calmly, reaching blindly back with his free hand to select a single item from the desk. Jack took the small sheet and forced his eyes down to reveal the answer.
In the picture, he stood stoically next to a soaking wet but laughing Susie. Her hair was plastered to her scalp and her wetsuit was streaked with mud from the bottom of Cardiff Bay. Cradled triumphantly in her arms was a deeply encrusted gauntlet of metal.
Ianto spoke softly but the words slammed into his soul,"You needed me, sir."