Title: Skin Deep
Author: remuslives23
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 2849
Summary: What had he been thinking?
Notes: For space_monkey52 for their donation to the Queensland Flood Appeal. The request was 'Ianto has scars from Canary Wharf and reveals them to Jack for the first time'. Thank you, hon, both for your donation and your patience with me. Beta read by my gorgeous hubby.
Contains: Sexual situations.
Episode References: Post 'They Keep Killing Suzie'
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.
What had he been thinking?
Ianto took a deep breath before he entered the main Hub, his hand tightly clutching his stopwatch – ticking like a bomb - in his hand. Suzie was in her freezing tomb – the door firmly latched – and Ianto's ten minutes was fast running out.
What had he been thinking?
As Jack had promised, the Hub had been emptied. Gwen – head intact – was no doubt being petted by her boyfriend, Toshiko curled up with her laptop, and Owen doing exactly what Jack was expecting to be doing with Ianto.
Ianto groaned softly and clenched his fist around the stopwatch, the curved edges biting into his palm. It wasn't that he hadn't done this before – with men and women, it wasn't that Jack was his boss and so insanely hot that Ianto wondered what the hell he saw in a pale, skinny Welshman, and it wasn't that things were already so incredibly complicated between them and sex would only add another knot to the already twisted relationship.
No, it wasn't any of that making Ianto sweat and wonder if he could get the lift all the way up to the Plass without Jack seeing him. Ianto slid his thumb under his shirt cuff, grimacing in distaste as he felt the rough texture of damaged skin. This would be the first time someone would be touching him – intimately – since Canary Wharf. The first time that the scars that had twisted his flesh into something ugly and unappealing would be uncovered anywhere other than his own bathroom.
Jack would see his scars, see all the imperfections that lay under the perfect suit, the perfect manners, the perfect butler persona.
He felt like throwing up.
'Are you adding to your list?'
Ianto started and his head snapped towards Jack's office. His stomach did a slow flip at the sight of Jack – braces hanging down, blue button-up shirt missing - casually leaning against the door frame, his hands in his trouser pockets. Ianto knew the pose was carefully choreographed to draw attention to Jack's groin and, dammit, it was working.
He tore his eyes away from the interesting bulging of Jack's trousers and cleared his suddenly tight throat. 'My – er - list, sir?'
Jack grinned. '"There's quite a list",' he quoted. He eyed Ianto closely then a frown creased his brow. His jaw jutted and his shoulders hunched defensively. 'You've... changed your mind?'
Ianto hesitated. He knew Jack would be disappointed if he backed off, but he wouldn't push. He could walk away right now with dignity battered but still intact. He could enjoy Jack's flirting and those little touches for a little longer because surely all that would stop once Jack knew what he looked like beneath the single-breasted suits he liked so much. Oh, he'd be kind, Ianto knew that. He'd be sympathetic and perhaps even go through with his plans because hadn't the man boasted about screwing non-humans? Surely he could stand fucking Ianto just once? Even if he had to close his eyes and pretend he was someone else? He had to because this dance they'd been doing since the night they met had become tiring. Ianto was exhausted from denying himself what he wanted so badly.
'No,' he blurted out. 'I'm just...' He let out a shaky breath and shrugged. 'It's been a while.'
Jack cocked his head, strolling towards Ianto. 'How long?' he asked, stopping by Toshiko's desk.
Ianto slowly walked up the stairs, his eyes on his leather-clad shoes the entire way. 'Before Canary Wharf,' he admitted, stopping at the top of the stairs and finally raising his gaze to meet Jack's.
'Because of Lisa?' Jack asked, his voice even as he spoke the name of the woman who'd almost brought down his base. 'Or lack of opportunity because you spend your every waking hour in the Hub even now when you no longer have her to care for?'
Ianto started and Jack nodded in grim satisfaction. 'Yeah, I've noticed you creeping out of the Archives in the early hours, only to turn around and come right back almost as soon as you get home.'
He closed the distance between them, reaching out and taking Ianto's tie between his forefinger and thumb. 'There isn't a lot I don't notice about you now, Ianto Jones,' he murmured, letting the silk tie slide between his fingers. 'For example, I noticed you standing over there beside the door to the lower levels, trying to gather up the courage to come up here.'
Ianto swallowed hard, his body responding to Jack's nearness even as a fresh wave of nerves swamped him. Jack's blue eyes boring intensely into Ianto's, making Ianto want to look away, but he was caught, he was under Jack's spell.
'I want you,' Jack said baldly. 'I've never made a secret of that. But I want you ready and willing, Ianto. This isn't part of your job. You're allowed to say no if you have doubts or have changed your mind or if you're nervous or scared. You're allowed to not be perfect.'
It was if Jack had flipped a switch. Electricity surged through Ianto and, hooking a hand around the back of Jack's neck, he pulled the other man in, crashing their mouths together with bruising force. Jack reacted immediately, his arms twining around Ianto's waist before he drew their bodies closer, their hips clashing as their tongues stroked hungrily over each other.
Ianto lost himself in the taste, the smell, of the other man, his fingers sinking into silky hair, his hips grinding against a firm, hard body. Jack's hands were everywhere, instinctively drawn, it seemed, to every erotic zone on Ianto's body, driving Ianto crazy with an unpredictable mix of light touches and almost painful grasping.
He should have been embarrassed by the tiny, high-pitched whimpers he could hear spilling from his lips, but it had been so long since he was touched like this, so long since he'd felt this pleasure, and all his energy was diverted towards just remaining upright on his shaking legs.
His chest burned as he panted into Jack's mouth, his body screaming out for more oxygen than his rapid respiration was providing, but he didn't ever want to stop kissing Jack. Jack took the decision out of his hands, though, pulling back with a ragged gasp.
'Fuck, Ianto,' he moaned, Ianto catching sight of a little awe in his gaze before Jack ducked his head and latched onto his neck. His teeth scraped over Ianto's pulse point then he sucked the skin into his warm mouth. A shudder juddered through Ianto, and Jack groaned, his hands sliding down Ianto's back to tug his shirt from his trousers.
The first touch of Jack's fingers on his lower back was like a bucket of cold water being tossed over Ianto and he pulled away from Jack's embrace. 'Wait,' he said, putting a hand flat on Jack's chest to keep him at arm's length. 'Just wait.'
'What?' Jack said on a breathy exhale. He stared at Ianto with eyes tinged with desire and more than a little desperation as he pleaded, 'Please, please tell me you haven't changed your mind.'
Ianto gazed at Jack - lips swollen and shiny with saliva, hair disheveled from Ianto's fingers, clothes rumpled and trousers tented - then looked away as his traitorous body reacted strongly to the sight, his brain crowing that he had done that. Ianto Jones – skinny boy from a council estate – had Captain Jack Harkness begging.
'No,' he finally rasped out. 'No, but I...' He breathed in deeply then inclined his head towards Jack's office. 'Can we go to your room?'
A cautious smile spread across Jack's face and he nodded, holding out his hand for Ianto to take. Ianto hesitated a moment then took the offered hand, letting Jack lead him down to his bunker, all the while trying to think of a way to warn Jack about his scars, to give him the choice of backing out if he found Ianto too grotesque.
Jack turned on the lamp on the small table beside his bed then turned to face Ianto. He smiled encouragingly as he quickly stripped off his shirt and white t-shirt, revealing a perfectly toned, unblemished chest. Ianto was torn between wanting to run his hands over the expanse of skin, and running away. Jack closed the distance between them, finishing what he started earlier, pulling Ianto's shirt out of his trousers, then he began unfastening the buttons.
'Jack...'
Ianto's breathing hitched as Jack caught his lower lip between his own, and his mouth went dry. He made one last attempt to warn Jack about his scars, but then Jack dragged his tongue slowly over Ianto's lip and he forgot everything except his own name. It wasn't until he felt his silk shirt slip from his shoulders that he regained some equilibrium and pulled away.
'Jack, stop.'
Jack froze, his hands dropping to his sides. 'What's wrong?'
Ianto plucked at the cotton singlet covering his chest and sighed. Jack's concern radiated from him and he took a step closer, reaching out to touch Ianto's shoulder. 'Ianto...'
'Don't,' Ianto said, weakly as he moved out of reach. His hand shook as he raked it through his hair. 'I can't say this when you're touching me. I can't think when you're touching me.'
Jack leered and opened his mouth to comment but Ianto held up a hand. 'Just let me get this out,' he said, pleased his words came out less breathy and tremulous this time. 'And then you can decide how you want to proceed.'
Jack blinked, obviously surprised, and crossed his arms over his bare chest. 'Alright,' he said, a little wariness bleeding through.
Ianto hunched his shoulders, leaning into the shadows the low lamp light cast. 'I have... I'm...' He closed his eyes and exhaled, gathering his courage. 'I was injured at Canary Wharf and I have... scarring.' His eyes snapped open and he looked directly into Jack's. 'Lots of scarring.'
A frown flickered across Jack's brow. 'It didn't say anything in your records...' Ianto shifted uneasily, and Jack made a noise of understanding. 'You altered your records.'
Ianto nodded. He watched as Jack's eyes skimmed the lines of his body then flicked back up to meet Ianto's gaze. 'What kind of scarring?'
'Bu...' His voice broke and he cleared his dry throat noisily before answering, 'Burns.'
Jack hissed, his eyes darkening. 'While you were rescuing Lisa?'
Ianto nodded again then inhaled sharply when Jack held out his hand to him for the second time tonight. 'Show me,' Jack said softly, wriggling his fingers and giving Ianto a crooked little smile. 'Come on.'
Resigned, Ianto stepped out of the shadows and stood in front of Jack, who held his gaze as he slid his hands beneath Ianto's undershirt, catching the hem and pulling it up and off. Ianto fought the urge to cover himself up, squaring his shoulders and clenching his jaw tightly as he stared unseeingly at the wall behind Jack.
He felt the warmth of Jack's hand against the centre of his chest then a hot mouth was pressed to the hinge of his jaw. 'Look at me,' Jack whispered, fingers stroking lightly over Ianto's cheek before he gently turned Ianto's head. 'Ianto, look at me.'
Ianto hesitantly glanced at Jack, preparing to see disgust, but relieved to see affection. 'You're an idiot,' Jack said matter-of-factly, softening the words with a chaste peck to Ianto's lips. 'Did you really think I'd want you less because of this?' He spread his hand flat over the worst of the scarring just below Ianto's left nipple.
Ianto rolled his eyes. 'Look at you, Jack,' he said impatiently, gesturing to Jack's chest. 'You don't have a single imperfection. I'm skinny and hairy and scarred and...'
'And so fucking beautiful that I have been hard from the moment I left the mortuary tonight,' Jack interrupted. 'Sometimes it feels like I've been hard from the moment I met you.' He cupped Ianto's face in his hands. 'I want you so badly it aches, Ianto. And this...' He slid his hand over the puckered skin covering Ianto's side, 'doesn't make a damn bit of difference.'
He leaned in close and rested their foreheads together. 'I have plenty of scars, Ianto. Much worse than yours. You just can't see them.' His rough chin rasped over Ianto's stubbled jaw. 'Does knowing that make you want me less?'
Ianto shook his head and Jack grinned, nudging Ianto's nose with his own. 'Idiot,' he repeated with a low chuckle, then he was kissing Ianto again, kissing him with such passion, such desire, that Ianto's knees buckled.
Their bare chests were plastered together and the sensation, that feeling of flesh against warm, living flesh that he'd been craving so much, made him dizzy. Lost in sensation, it wasn't until Jack moved away that he realised he was on his back on Jack's cot, his trousers being yanked down his legs.
Objecting to the loss of skin on skin, Ianto quickly kicked his trousers and pants off, his fingers fumbling over Jack's fly. Together, they managed to get naked then Jack was pressing against him from head to toe and Ianto gasped out his gratitude, chanting Jack's name in desperate whispers as he rocked frantically against the man who had made him feel alive for the first time since Canary Wharf.
'Ianto. Gods, Ianto,' Jack mumbled into Ianto's mouth, his hands gliding over Ianto's sweat-slicked skin, fingers finding sensitive spots that made arousal spark bright and hot in every single nerve ending. He ducked his head, lathing the flat of his tongue over Ianto's peaked nipple before dropping a trail of open-mouthed kisses over Ianto's ruined skin, moaning into his flesh when Ianto hissed and arched his back in pleasure. His climax hung before him; tempting him, teasing him, still just a step out of reach.
Frustrated, Ianto tugged on Jack's hair. 'Please,' he breathed, not entirely sure what he was asking for but just needing Jack to do something. 'Jack, please.'
Jack crushed their lips together, plundering Ianto's mouth with his tongue as his roughened fingers curled around their throbbing shafts. Ianto cried out as Jack palmed their cocks, then moaned wantonly as he stroked them together. He spread his legs and Jack fitted himself between Ianto's thighs, their tight balls bouncing against each other as they lost the rhythm they'd set and rutted frenetically. Ianto let go of all his inhibitions, all his fears about not being perfect, not being good enough, and just let himself feel, let himself finally rejoice in the fact that he had survived to share in this moment.
Ianto wasn't surprised that he was first to come, his spine threatening to snap as his body bowed and twisted with the intensity of his orgasm. Jack wasn't far behind him, though, a moan ripped from the other man's throat before hot fluid splattered across Ianto's torso. Jack's large hand worked them both through their climax, teasing every drop of come from their pulsing cocks, until pleasure began to sharpen into pain.
Jack squeezed his hand out from between their bellies then collapsed across Ianto's chest before sliding off to the side. Ianto stared up at the ceiling, gazing at the blue light he could see through the manhole as he tried to steady his breathing. Jack panted heavily beside him, his warm breath washing over Ianto's neck.
His respiration was almost back to normal when he felt fingers lightly touching the patch of scar tissue on the inside of his wrist. He forced himself not to snatch his hand away, letting his head roll to the side so he could see Jack. The other man was staring down at Ianto's hand, his fingers tracing the edges of the scar.
'This is the first time anyone has seen you like this, isn't it?' Jack asked softly, trailing his fingertips along the inside of Ianto's forearm until he reached the crook of his elbow.
'Yes,' Ianto murmured, transfixed by the gentle movement of Jack's fingers.
Jack drew an invisible pattern on Ianto's skin as he made his way back down to Ianto's wrist then he lifted Ianto's hand to his mouth. His lips grazed the healed flesh and he raised his gaze, looking into Ianto's eyes before saying with obvious sincerity, 'Thank you for trusting me, Ianto.' He twined their fingers then stretched up to brush their lips together. 'Thank you.'
fin.