Author's Notes: This fic is... strange. It's the bastard child of listening to several different kinds of music while writing it plus several headcanons of mine plus my need to expand my horisons with smut, so here's the result. Once again, I'm not really sure how it turned out, so I'd love to hear what you think of it.
Jack could never figure out what the occasion was every time Ianto disappeared. It happened once, sometimes twice in a month - Ianto would leave work early under the excuse of meeting friends and returned in quite the state, and never uttered a word about anything that had happened. The Captain had tried following him once but Gwen had stopped him, pulling a long enough speech on personal space and the boundaries in a relationship for Ianto to get out of his reach - which had, he had guessed, been exactly the point.
Ianto, of course, was a tight-lipped bugger about that, just like he was about everything else. Jack usually waited for him in his flat in days like that, mostly because Ianto wasn't really himself when he came back.
He could never be sure what happened in those few hours; all he knew was that Ianto came back with winds whispering in his hair, laughter in his eyes and wildness in his smile, looking more like an ancient god from the woods than like a man. It was on nights like that when Ianto shone with the blinding fire of lust and mortality that he came to Jack, and the Captain accepted him with his arms and heart wide open.
Tonight was no different. Jack, who had been channel surfing without really looking for anything prior to Ianto's arrival, never got the chance for a proper greeting before the younger man had turned the television off, dragged him to the bedroom and then pushed him on the bed.
It was as if he knew exactly what Jack's weaknesses were, he thought desperately. If there had always been one thing that got to him more than anything else, it was the debauched innocence and the beauty it brought; smooth cheeks, wide blue eyes and plump lips full of the promises and eagerness of youth. Ianto was pale and fragile as if made of the finest porcelain on top of him, uncharacteristically dressed in jeans and a loose dark dress shirt, and Jack couldn't take his eyes off of him.
"I can smell it, you know," Ianto murmured in his ear. "How much you want me."
"Can't help it," Jack whispered. In all honesty, it was the truth, but Ianto pulled away and Jack's eyes remained glued on him. His lips, plush and purple, were glistening with what Jack supposed - hoped - were wine, and his eyes were focused on him like a predator staring at tonight's catch. His skin, almost translucent during the day, now looked like liquid silver under the moonlight and contrasted with those blood-stained lips and crystal blue eyes. His hair was a raven's wing in the darkness; colours chasing and shifting in it until Jack lost track of anything but him.
There was a hint of hunger in Ianto's eyes and Jack was all too happy to fulfil it. His lover seemed to sense that because he lowered himself over him again, lips finding Jack's neck and biting there with surprising force. Not that it wasn't typical for Ianto; Jack tended to wake up in the mornings after they'd had sex feeling like he'd ran through a small hurricane. It was just unexpected, given how out of it Ianto seemed to be at the moment.
"Usual safe word?" Jack offered, feeling that he'd be needing it tonight. Ianto just gave a low, delighted laugh and then his eyes sought Jack's, desperate and wanting.
"Yes, but can I- Jack, would you mind if I-" He closed his eyes for a moment or two, clearly frustrated, and Jack raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Would it be okay if I draw blood?"
His voice was infinitely gentle and so quiet that Jack wouldn't have heard him if it hadn't been for the silence in the room, but it made him shiver from head to toe nonetheless. Ianto seemed entirely fascinated by the mere idea of it and Jack found himself nodding, unable to deny him anything he asked for. It wasn't like he wasn't going to enjoy it, really; every new idea Ianto had only served to prove that he'd always make it worth his while.
"Good," Ianto whispered, leaning down to steal a small kiss and then standing up and off the bed to looking through one of the drawers of his desk. "Take your clothes off."
Jack scrambled to comply, his fingers almost stumbling over his shirt buttons in their haste. He threw his shirt aside and got his undershirt off over his head, then got rid of his trousers and pants as quickly as possible. Ianto had apparently found what he'd been looking for in the meantime and was now sitting on the edge of the bed, deceptively patient. Jack would have fallen for it, too, if he didn't know him better and if it wasn't for the wicked spark in those lively, burning eyes.
Once he was back on the bed, Ianto pounced him again and this time Jack realised that he was holding a knife small, slightly curved at the edge and with a richly ornamented handle. If Jack didn't know better, he'd say it was a ceremonial dagger, but he didn't pay it that much thought there and then. There were more important issues at hand and quite literally, too.
The edge of the blade was sliding up Jack's arm and he couldn't help but absently note that his lover knew suspiciously well what he was doing. He wasn't causing any actual damage and yet the Captain could feel the sweet burn of it on the surface of his skin, gentle enough to keep him relaxed and yet strong enough to keep him on the edge.
He hissed when he felt Ianto break skin and looked up at his lover, only to see that the devastatingly precise focus had moved to Jack's arm specifically instead of him as a whole.
Jack stared at his arm, mesmerised by the way blood was welling up in the wound. Ianto seemed to notice it too, because he dropped the blade on the bed and placed a tentative, curious kiss on Jack's arm. It was quickly followed by a soft moan of appreciation and Jack's eyes fell closed on their own accord when he started sucking on the wound almost idly.
He couldn't quite describe the sensation, but it wasn't like anything that had been done to him before. His arm went numb, but he could still feel the motions of Ianto's mouth over it almost like a phantom touch. He pressed the wound further into Ianto's touch to the young man's apparent delight and just let himself feel.
On nights like this one, Ianto wasn't quite what Jack was used to, but he always loved him for it regardless. The Ianto that came to him on the nights when the wind was howling outside and the moon was watchful and wide above the world was a wild, magnificent creature; the stuff of myths rather than an actual person. He was unfamiliar and amazing and Jack always waited for him with baited breath and not without some guilt - it was glaringly obvious that Ianto had taken something slightly harder than wine before coming to him. He'd even tried dragging him to the Hub and to Owen's lab and checking his blood. The medic - at first rather unhappy to be woken up at such an unholy time - had got strangely fascinated by what he'd found. It was a substance, he'd said, neither human nor alien, and even the advanced tech that Torchwood could afford had had difficulty tracking it. Jack had never asked Ianto about it. Everyone from his team except perhaps for Tosh had an unhealthy habit that that he didn't approve of - and the worry was double for Ianto - but he kept his mouth shut. As far as Owen had been able to tell, it wasn't harming him and it wasn't causing addiction, so Jack had left him be. He did tend to enjoy the after effects, after all.
And they usually included Ianto giving in to his heart's desires like he did tonight. Had it been anyone else, Jack would have said a firm 'no' to any of it, but this was Ianto. If he knew him at all, his lover had spent weeks researching that sort of thing on the Internet and had repressed the urge to tell Jack any of it. Ianto tended to do that a lot - knowing he wanted something and denying himself even the possibility of it and the Captain gave a fleeting thought to the realisation that there was a healthy bit of masochism inside him along with the sadistic tendencies he so often displayed in front of Jack.
Another cut - braver this time, less hesitant - brought his attention back to the present. The muscles of his arm tightened convulsively and Ianto lapped up the blood once more before looking up at him again.
Jack wondered if he knew just how irresistible he was like that; head tilted, looking at him from underneath his lashes, smile coy and inquisitive. He had unbuttoned his shirt while Jack had been lost in his ministrations and now just a tantalising hint of the slender body and the smooth skin was visible underneath it. Jack longed to touch him, but was also quite sure he wouldn't be allowed to.
"You're so beautiful like this." Ianto's voice was a haunting whisper and his slightly curled lips were covered in blood that welled up in the corners of his mouth and Jack wondered not for the first time whether he was some sort of incubus that could posses him with little more than a smile. The unruly curls that crowned his head weren't held back by Ianto's usual grooming, leaving him even more distant-looking than before, and the knife and his skin glistened on the moonlight coming from outside and Jack couldn't find his voice at the sheer sight of him. "So beautiful," he murmured again, trailing the blade down Jack's chest. "I could do anything to you and you wouldn't say no, because you love it. You love surrendering to me."
"I do," Jack admitted, tone quiet and sincere. There was no point in lying. They both knew just how things were. "Kiss me?"
Ianto complied, throwing himself into it with surprising enthusiasm, given his idle, almost absent behaviour all evening. He kissed him long and deep and then pulled away, nibbling at Jack's tongue before letting him go and letting his lips stray down Jack's jaw line and to his ear.
"I want to ride you," he confided to Jack with the same fascination that he'd applied to everything ever since he'd come home. "Can I do that?"
"Yes," Jack said in a heated whisper, finally reaching out to bring his lover closer. It was surprising, though; to have Ianto ask him something like that. Even if they were half-heartedly alternating on who would top, they both liked it better when Ianto did. Jack preferred letting himself give up to the delight of sex rather than inflict it and Ianto got off on delivering pleasure. Not that this would be changing tonight, though; not by the looks of it.
"Good boy." Ianto rewarded him with a small smile, still a bit foggy, and Jack felt yet another stab of guilt for letting Ianto do as he pleased in the state he was in. There was no doubt that Ianto was in full control of himself, but he still felt unsure.
Well, no time for hesitation now. Ianto stood up and shrugged his shirt off before getting out of his jeans and underwear. He was hard; painfully so, most likely, but he wasn't in a hurry. He felt around on the floor for a bit, then came up with a bottle of lubricant and climbed back on the bed. He flipped the cap open and squeezed some of it on his fingers. Jack had barely braced himself when he felt the cool digits wrap around his sensitive cock. He gave a small yelp and bucked up into Ianto's touch, almost unsure whether he wanted to get away or beg for more. When he looked up at his lover, though, he knew that the decision was made. "Ianto, please," he managed, trying to look as hopeful and desperate as possible not that he had to work for it and Ianto chuckled, deep and hoarse.
"Please what?" His voice was even more appealing to Jack's ears now that Ianto was covering him with his body entirely. If there was one thing he loved more than everything, it was being possessed from the inside and out like that. "Look at you." Ianto pressed himself against Jack, chest to chest, and their breaths and heartbeats mixed in the space between them. Ianto's arms were grounded on the bed on both sides of Jack's body and his eyes were so close that he couldn't quite get them to focus. "I'm asking you if I can ride you and you're still begging me to take you."
It really was rather unfair, Jack thought, that he was going to mock him for this. He wondered whether this wasn't exactly the point Ianto was trying to prove with this: that even when Jack got to do the actual fucking, he was pinned to the bed and Ianto was the one giving the pleasure and setting the pace. It was fine, though. More than fine. Jack didn't mind humiliation in the slightest; not when it was someone he trusted that did it. Ianto would never take advantage of that knowledge to degrade him in front of anyone else, and that was all that mattered. It was why he gave himself to his lover so freely.
Ianto, it seemed, had prepared himself while Jack had been lost in thought and when he positioned himself over Jack's cock and impaled himself on it, the Captain gave a low, deep growl of satisfaction and his eyes slipped closed. His hands curled into fists, clutching the sheets and bunching them up as he tried not to buck up.
"Look at me." Ianto's voice was shakier now; less controlled as he started moving. Jack opened his eyes just in time to see Ianto reach for his knife again. It was a mesmerising sight; a thin sheen of sweat was covering his pale chest and his muscles were tense. When he buried his head in Jack's neck to kiss along his throat, Jack could see his arms turn into tight ropes as he gripped Jack's shoulders. He barely looked human anymore and the impression was made even bigger by the way his blue eyes flashed when they locked with Jack's.
"Ianto, please, just-" he groaned, almost insane with the tightness and heat around his cock and Ianto's body plastered against his and Ianto finally started moving, slow and deliberate. Jack felt the first slice over the skin of his chest just then, quickly followed by Ianto's fingers gathering up the blood and bringing it up to his own lips to lick them clean. Jack hissed at the sting of the wound as it intensified when Ianto pressed them closer together and kissed him, and he felt the sharp tang of his own blood on the man's lips.
Ianto was fucking himself on Jack's cock almost fast enough for it to be over stimulating, now, and Jack gave a small, helpless moan when his free hand started wandering, pinching his nipples and stroking his skin where it was still untouched while the knife in his right hand was making superficial scratches every once in a while. He seemed really into it; eyes closed, little huffs of breath that signalled just how turned on he was, and that beautiful face flushed with arousal that threatened to take over him, and while Jack enjoyed it, there was still something that wasn't quite right.
It's Ianto, he reminded himself firmly. He wouldn't hurt you, not really. It's just a game. But suddenly, it wasn't Ianto anymore, it was Emily and Alice or the Master or Mr Maxwell back in the Time Agency, and before Jack could get back to his senses, it felt like all the gentle touches that surrounded all of this had disappeared.
When the knife reached his stomach, he screamed.
Jack felt Ianto lift up from him and could hear the weapon clatter on the floor, but it was as if he was underwater - every sound was distant and distorted to the point where he felt like he was drowning.
And then Ianto pulled him on the surface.
"Jack!" Ianto's eyes were wide with horror and absolutely clear from whatever substance he'd had in his system when he'd arrived. "Jack, it's me!" Jack felt fingers stroking over his cheek, gentle and trembling. He cowered away from the touch with a quiet whimper, unable to help himself, and Ianto framed his face in his hands. "Jack, listen to me!" He obeyed, still with the ghost of the fear that he'd be hit if he failed to follow the command. "Do you remember the garden we went to last month? The one with the lilies and the glass roof?" Jack nodded slowly. "What did you say to me then?"
"I told you-" Jack drew in a frantic, shuddering breath. "I said that they're called Stargazer lilies and that you'd feel great amongst them because you love looking at the stars so much. And I thought-"
"What did you think, Jack?" Ianto encouraged softly and this time when he started caressing Jack's face, he didn't pull away.
"I thought that there was nothing I'd love more in the world than being able to get you up there," he whispered. "Among the start, for as long as you wanted, because that's where you belong."
"God, Jack, I'm so sorry." Ianto's voice was choked and the Captain wrapped his arms around him running his hand in soothing motions down his lover's back, fully aware of the irony of it.
"Don't be. Just, can you-" The word 'fuck' didn't sound right on his tongue just then, but Ianto got the hint and smiled ruefully.
"Some things never change, huh?"
"Maybe it's for the better," Jack said and Ianto gave a small laugh before reaching for the lube again.
He was gentler than ever before as he prepared Jack and there was still something left from his wild night, or so it seemed to the Captain, because there was no way that those ancient eyes could belong to the boy at his feet. And when Ianto aligned with him and thrust in slowly and Jack's legs wrapped themselves around his waist, Ianto's hand sunk in his hair and he began whispering gentle, quiet words in his ear; something in a language he'd never heard and that sounded older than time itself.
"Ianto," Jack whispered, not really intent on saying it as anything but a reminder to himself. "Ianto, please, let me..." And once again, they seemed to understand one another, because Ianto's hand wrapped around his cock immediately, the pace tortuously slow and careful. He was so lost in the world built on sensation alone that he came just after a few strokes of Ianto's fingers with a soft gasp of contentment, soon followed by Ianto who just hid his face in Jack's shoulder and came without making a sound.
And it was perfect; better than almost anything they'd ever done before. It was all Ianto this time - his scent filling Jack's nostrils, rich and spicy and sweet all at the same time, his dark hair tickling Jack's bare skin and his hard, unyielding body on top of Jack's.
But he got off of Jack as quickly as humanly possible and fell down on his back onto the bed. Once Jack managed to catch his breath, he wiggled closer to Ianto and dropped his head on his lover's shoulder. Usually, Ianto would run his hand through Jack's hair or kiss him on the forehead, but now he just stiffly wrapped an arm around Jack to keep them pressed together. It was clear that the fire inside him was gone, and it seemed to have left nothing behind.
Jack looked up. Ianto's nights out usually ended with the Captain getting pretty beaten up in the best possible way and asleep in Ianto's arms, not with Ianto sobering up and closing off, and now he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. His outburst from earlier seemed illogical now and he wanted to reassure his lover that he wasn't to blame, but he was also quite sure that it wouldn't be easy.
"You were incredible," Jack said in the end, straining up to give him a quick kiss. Ianto shied away from it.
"I was out of line," he retorted, voice dull and emotionless. "I shouldn't have forced this on you."
"You do know that this is kind of what the safe word is for, right?" Ianto didn't react. "If you were forcing anything on me, I would have told you."
Ianto laughed humourlessly. "You were screaming, Jack. You should have seen yourself."
"You got me by surprise, that's all." When Ianto scoffed, Jack shifted until they were eye to eye. "That's all," he repeated quietly. "The moment I knew it was you, it was all right. Don't get all distant, now." He smiled and Ianto returned it hesitantly. "I love it when you push my boundaries because it's so rare for anyone to be able to do that. And you're always there if it's too much."
Ianto finally gave him a real smile and dragged him down for a kiss. It was gentle and comfortable and it felt like coming home, so Jack let himself relax into it. Ianto was warm and inviting under him and that was how Jack knew him best, so it was just fine. His lover pulled him away after a few seconds and drew Jack back to his chest, wrapping his arms around him protectively and - Jack found himself smiling - ruffling his hair absently. "I'm never going to hurt you, Jack," he murmured. "Not if I can help it."
"I know," Jack said and felt sleep taking over him now that they'd figured it all always felt ridiculously comfortable when he fell asleep in Ianto's arms and now was no exception. It was late, he was tired and Ianto's most recent attentions had left him in a state of utter relaxation. "It's why I'm here, after all."
He was too tired to look up and see Ianto's reaction and only curled further into his lover's embrace and, as sleep took him far more quickly than he'd expected, he barely heard Ianto whisper, "Thank you."