Malcolm placed the phone back in its cradle and frowned at it like it had somehow wronged him.
"Toto?" he called softly, looking around the penthouse.
His blood boiled as he searched.
Kitchen? Nope. The dishes were done and efficiently put away. The signs of breakfast gone like a crime scene wiped clean.
Bedroom? Nope. Bed changed and made to a precision that made it seem like he had stepped into the catalogue. Clothes he's scattered on the floor also gone, neatly folded even though he knew they would be in the laundry hamper that way.
Bathroom? Nope. He remembered that movie with Julia Roberts … Sleeping with the Enemy as he started at the perfectly aligned handtowels. Even the soap was perfect.
Den? Nope. The book Ianto was currently reading paced on the side table next to Rebecca's … no … Ianto's favourite chair. Malcolm had felt a strange melancholy the first time he had found him there, sleeping with his book open in his lap and his feet tucked up. He'd lifted him and carried him to bed as he had his wife once upon a time and Ianto's sigh as he'd settled into the bed had done something to his heart. Baby boy.
He found him in the sparing room, folding the massage towels.
He stood with his back to him humming something as he shook out another white spa towel and began to fold it.
Malcolm was as silent as a Native-American tracking his prey. He didn't even stop to think, he swung. Ianto ducked and pivoted, kicking him in the back of the knee and then danced back.
"Lover? Problem?" he smiled sweetly, hands now in the pockets of his woollen cardigan.
Malcolm snarled and lunged only at grab at empty air as Ianto laughed and sidestepped him again, grabbing him by his hair and slamming him into the display case of weapons.
Dropping his cardigan to the floor, Ianto kicked at the shards, sweeping them to one side. The glass shards glittered on the floor like diamonds and Malcolm stood there in shock as his forehead blossomed.
"Oh, honey you're bleeding" Ianto crowed, slapping his face and dancing back again. "Come on, let's play."
Malcolm took a deep breath as it occurred to him that Ianto was initiating a game. Really? Anger fell away as lust took over. "Really?"
This time Malcolm turned at the last moment and caught Ianto by the arm, flicking him into the wall and he grunted with pain at the impact.
Malcolm's turn to crow and Ianto's face as he turned to face him was a picture. The snarl was pure hatred and his lips were peeled so far back his gums were exposed. He lunged, Malcolm pivoted but Ianto saw the "tell".
Malcolm twitched the foot he was going to lift. Ianto smiled sweetly and blew a kiss then lunged again. This time he got him, a knee to the gut and Malcolm was down. Ianto straddled him and punched him hard in the chest, taking his breath.
As Malcolm wheezed Ianto bent down and bit him hard on the neck making him scream with what little breath he had.
Ianto them punched him on the jaw, snapping his head back into the floor. He followed it up with a searing kiss full of power and control.
Malcolm flipped them easily and felt Ianto yield to the manoeuvre, parting his legs to allow Malcolm control.
Malcolm snarled as he tore Ianto's shirt from his torso and lent down to bite his left peck. Ianto screamed and bucked beneath him, even then his hands were gentle as they carded through Malcolm's hair.
Malcolm hit him. Hard. As Ianto lay stunned Malcolm stripped his trousers and underwear from him then tore his own from his body.
Ianto lay stunned and groaning as Malcolm took him. Thrusting into him roughly and finding him prepared not as much a surprise as he thought it would be.
He pounded into Ianto with snarls and shouts of lust, driving him across the floor until they were in the glass shards, Ianto's blood smeared beneath their struggling bodies on the floor.
Finally Malcom came screaming so loud he lost his voice turning it into a silent one. Ianto lay compliant beneath him. Malcolm fell onto him and lay panting as he shook with the adrenaline rush.
.
.
.
"Mal?" Ianto said quietly, patting his shoulder.
Malcolm blearily opened his eyes and groaned. He'd been asleep. Glorious post coital bliss.
"Can't it wait for fucks sake" he snarled, dropping his head back down on to … Ianto?
Malcolm stared down at his lover pinned beneath him. Huh? Then he saw the blood. Shit!
He quickly rose and lifted Ianto up, so much blood seeping into the cedar floor. Oh no, no. Malcolm looked at Ianto's torn back, shredded by the glass and felt sick.
His hands shook as he started to pick out shards and Ianto barked with pain.
He led him to the shower where he continued to pick shards out with tweezers as Ianto silently held a bowl for the pieces like a beggar asking for coins. Each tinkle of glass hitting the porcelain a heartbeat.
Malcolm finally finished and dried him then dressed his back as gently as he could. Ianto gave a tired sigh and regarded him as he dried his chest then lent forward and kissed him.
"Toto I …" Malcolm began his apology.
"Played the game sir" Ianto finished for him with a gentle smile.
"Did you poison Thea?"
"Just a bit. Laxatives. She's yours so I'd never hurt her but she started it" Ianto pouted.
Malcom snorted with good hour. True.
"You owe her new kicks!" Malcom declared as he led Ianto to bed.
I know some of you are uncomfortable with the way this is going but I'm gonna let it play out. You need to remember this is not our Ianto, he's a horse of an entirely different colour. In his Verse Jack never came back.
"Daddy" is a title, not a name. In a Dom/Sub relationship Mummy or Daddy is used to show the user is inferior to the title bearer. To give the Dom an elevated status and remind him/her they are the one in charge. You may be surprised how often this title is used by a woman when talking to her man. Ianto is playing the game, using everything he knows in the book to keep Malcolm happy and interested. Being a strange fruit works here.