Torchwood on my mind
297 word fliclet, adult, Jack/Ianto for treacle_tartlet and inspired by GDL's comments this weekend that Ianto is the top.
It was a familiar tickle that woke him, the slightest brush of fingers along his spine. “Some of us have to sleep, you realise,” he intoned dryly, eyes shut though he knew it was still night. “Can’t be awake all night and function during the day.”
“Oh, you can function,” came the voice from behind him, thick with amusement. “In fact,” a hand shifted around his hip, moving over parts of him that were betraying him in their quickness to wake, “I’d say you were functioning perfectly.”
Ianto shivered at the brush of lips against his shoulder, his neck. Sleep, it seemed, was no longer an option. “That’s not what I meant,” he added after a moment, his protest rather feeble. It was hard to say no to Jack in this half-awake state, especially with the other man rather determined. Still, it wouldn’t do to give in without protest, token though they might be. “Something you know.”
“I do,” Jack’s fingers hooked under Ianto’s chin, pulling him into a kiss, “like I know you’re just protesting because you like driving me crazy.”
“Mad,” he corrected, half-teasingly and half pedantic, giving up any pretense of resistance. “I enjoy driving you mad.”
“Crazy, mad,” Ianto was sure Jack was rolling his eyes, even as Ianto turned into him, pushing the larger man back onto the bed. “Next you’ll be replacing my coffee with tea.”
“Hardly,” his derisiveness was unmistakeable as he curled his fingers through Jack’s, pressing the other man’s arms above his head, bending close to mouth at his jaw. “You’d have me drummed out of Torchwood, I’m sure.”
“Not the kind of drumming I’m thinking of.” It was always a clever retort with Jack, this time utterly ignored by Ianto. He’d better things to be seeing to.
It was a familiar tickle that woke him, the slightest brush of fingers along his spine. “Some of us have to sleep, you realise,” he intoned dryly, eyes shut though he knew it was still night. “Can’t be awake all night and function during the day.”
“Oh, you can function,” came the voice from behind him, thick with amusement. “In fact,” a hand shifted around his hip, moving over parts of him that were betraying him in their quickness to wake, “I’d say you were functioning perfectly.”
Ianto shivered at the brush of lips against his shoulder, his neck. Sleep, it seemed, was no longer an option. “That’s not what I meant,” he added after a moment, his protest rather feeble. It was hard to say no to Jack in this half-awake state, especially with the other man rather determined. Still, it wouldn’t do to give in without protest, token though they might be. “Something you know.”
“I do,” Jack’s fingers hooked under Ianto’s chin, pulling him into a kiss, “like I know you’re just protesting because you like driving me crazy.”
“Mad,” he corrected, half-teasingly and half pedantic, giving up any pretense of resistance. “I enjoy driving you mad.”
“Crazy, mad,” Ianto was sure Jack was rolling his eyes, even as Ianto turned into him, pushing the larger man back onto the bed. “Next you’ll be replacing my coffee with tea.”
“Hardly,” his derisiveness was unmistakeable as he curled his fingers through Jack’s, pressing the other man’s arms above his head, bending close to mouth at his jaw. “You’d have me drummed out of Torchwood, I’m sure.”
“Not the kind of drumming I’m thinking of.” It was always a clever retort with Jack, this time utterly ignored by Ianto. He’d better things to be seeing to.