Cocky

Chapter 4

Jack POV

I'm lost but I'm playing it cool. Last night with Ianto. Stuck in my mind, a loop of pleasure. Sexy teacher, pliant pupil. Steaming.

But there's this little niggle. A slight worry. Like I've done something wrong. Even though it felt so right. Because he left quickly afterwards. Eyes on the ground, hands folded across his body, little rabbit scurrying away.

One hundred years and I still forget. Forget that sex isn't like eating, like shitting, like breathing. Muddied with guilt. Glorified and vilified.

But I know he wanted it. It was his choice. Know he wants it. See his looks.

But I'm playing it cool. Flirtation without fulfilment. Fun in the twenty-first century.

Playing it cool, but still checking the CCTV to see where he's gone. Archives. Sexy, remote. No Jack. Dusty, dirty. Hmmm. Ianto covered in dust. Sexy suit spoiled. I won't go down then. Wonder if he will?

So here is me, not climbing the stairs, not walking down the corridor, not opening the door.

He doesn't even notice when I walk in. The place is a mess. One hundred and fifty years of mess. And I think he's made it worse.

"Making some headway?" I ask and I'm rewarded with his startled blue eyes. Rabbit in the headlight. Calm Jack, calm.

"Getting there, sir." he says and tries to get up.

"No, don't get up." I feel the warmth of his shoulder as I push him back in his chair. Safer down there I think. I can't reach your lips.

Instead, I look at the objects on the table. Memories of a life past. Memory of past deaths. "Looks like a bit of a mess." Life and death generally is.

"It's going to look worse before it looks better. It's in a pretty bad state." Then sweet eyes open in apology. "Sorry." he says. He couldn't be cuter.

"That's ok. I'm not very good at this side of things. Prefer the action. Not so good at cleaning up afterwards." I hope that didn't come out as a line. I'm trying very hard.

Then he touches me and it becomes obvious how hard I really am. "Ianto." I didn't expect that. But I recover quickly. "That could be considered sexual harassment." I say with a smirk.

But clever little rabbit isn't listening. He's burrowing in, pawing me out. A tongue pokes out of his serious face and I've just been touched with ice and fire.

So keen, so determined, licking, tasting, taking me in. Hotter and harder, so delicate, so shy. He's done what I thought was impossible, he's stolen my voice.

So I watch. Watch him expose me. Watch him enclose me. Awkward touches drawing me on.

But I'm not silent. Each thrust of his mouth pulls the noise from me. Have to hold back from fucking his mouth and spoiling the game.

His hand squeezes the base of my cock and I almost loose the battle. Only a small jerk but I see him quiver. He's doing his best but it's not enough. But I'm the teacher now, so I tell him true.

"It will be easier if you get down on your knees." Good boy, listen to master. "That's right." He can take more now. "You can use your hands." Gratifyingly responsive. "You don't have to take it all in." Down the gullet it goes.

Every little word met with response. Earnestly following instructions. Sweet face. Dirty mouth.

And it's coming and building and I need more pressure, more. "Hollow your cheeks, suck it in, use your tongue." Fondle my balls, swallow my cum.

And then I feel a rumble. I didn't teach him that. Groaning around my cock. Vibrating me to bliss.

So teacher is losing his eloquence. "Oh god Ianto. That's it. That's right. So good." Short sentences, one syllable.

I don't know if I can hold it. I'm moving. Not too much, keep it back. "Holly mother of all things sweet." He's taking it. Taking it in. Relaxing his throat. Untaught. "You sure you haven't done this before?" Can you do it again? "Oh my god." His throat convulses on my cock. "That's it. Just like that Ianto." My clever, clever boy.

But he's getting even cleverer and even quicker. Pulling and sucking, and stealing my seed. A moment of tension that I've given him too much. Because it's pouring out of me. Pouring into him. But he takes it all, swallows my soul.

And I'm gone, gone, gone. Lost in him. Released.

It's been a long time since someone's cared.

"Thank you," I say. I pull him to me, kiss him, taste our connection.

And I really didn't expect it to go in that direction. Sometimes these characters just take off on their own, like disobedient children. I must be getting tired and sentimental. Thanks for reading.