Repressed 2/6
Ianto wakes up one morning to discover he has lost 3 months of his memories
Warnings: implied violence and non-con. May trigger, a bit squicky, American attempting to approximate British speak. This chapter also contains shameless smut.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Sex and Sandwiches
Days went by before Ianto finally convinced Jack it would be okay for him to return to work. The morning before he left, Jack made him promise to call if he had even the tiniest problem. A few hours later Ianto was pleasantly surprised to find Tosh on his door step with a pizza box in her hands and a smile on her face.
Ianto endured a hug and invited her in. He managed to eat only a slice and a half of the pizza as they talked.
Jack was predictably moody the past three months, Owen was continuing to be an ass, and Gwen was trying not to make a mess of the archives and probably failing miserably. Ianto missed a rather entertaining incident involving a kleptomaniac Briccian who stole several hundred pairs of woman’s pantie-hoes out of various Tesco's across Wales. They finally tracked him down in a forest a few miles outside of Cardiff. He was building some sort of structure out of the leg ware up in the trees. Jack's theory was that the Briccian was preparing to spawn. The clean up took hours.
The next day Gwen showed up around noon to take him to lunch and physical therapy. Ianto endured another hug and listened to her complain about Rhys's horrible parents over fish and chips. She was seriously starting to get sick of the whole pre-wedding drama and the way every little detail became a battle of wills between in-laws. The two of them laughed and joked about the possibility of giving the whole thing a miss and going to Las Vegas for a drive through wedding at an alien themed chapel.
Then it was Owen with a bag of sandwiches. Ianto tensed as Owen came close, but then the Doctor said, “Don't worry mate, I'm not going to hug you.”
“Oh thank god,” Ianto replied with a breath of relief, and let him in.
Owen looked at the scars on his hands and feet with a critical eye. He asked about nightmares and panic attacks. A couple of bottles appeared on Ianto's coffee table. He recognized the names on them from the months after Lisa's death. “Take them if you need them,” Owen said. “Do you remember anything at all?”
“No,” Ianto replied.
“That's probably for the best,” Owen said.
“How much do you know?” Ianto asked, suddenly panicked.
“I'm your doctor, Ianto. I was there when they brought you into A&E.”
“Does everyone know?”
“Know what?”
“That I was raped,” Ianto whispered.
“Just me and Jack.” Ianto frowned and stared at the two bottles on the coffee table.
At that point Owen quickly changed the subject to rugby and sandwiches appeared on the table along side the pills.
The rats were back now. They'd been creeping in his gut all week, and now they were building their nests and settling in. Ianto barley managed half his sandwich before he had to push it aside. Owen offered him something for his appetite, but Ianto shook his head. Between the prescriptions from the hospital, the bottles Helen gave him, and now Owen's contribution, he already felt like he could stock a pharmacy.
That evening the nightmares started. Ianto found himself in a twisted maze of corridors lit by flickering pail yellow bulbs hanging off the ceiling. Everything was filthy. Used condoms, raw sewage, and vomit littered the floor and piled up in the corners. Ianto was naked, his hands and feet broken, forcing him to move around on his elbows and knees as he searched for an exit. Everywhere he went he could hear footsteps above him coming closer and closer as they stomped down a set of stairs.
The closer the footsteps got, the more panicked he became until he was pressing himself into a corner curled up into the smallest ball possible waiting for the creak of an opening door while he trembled and shook, tears streaming down his face.
It took several minutes before he realized the man calling his name was Jack. The older man was crouched a few feet away, panic lining his face as he pleaded with Ianto. The young man swore as he gasped for air, relief flooding through his tight chest. He reached out a hand, wandering why Jack was so far away, and desperately needing a tangible reassurance that he was safe and home. Jack reached out with a tentative hand, and Ianto grabbed hold of it and tugged him in.
Jack took the hint and with a grateful sigh he gathered Ianto up in his arms. “Come on, lets go back to bed,” he whispered.
Ianto was surprised to discover he made it as far as his living room while he dreamed.
As they shuffled back into the bedroom, still wrapped in each others arms Jack said, “This is a whole lot easier with you back in your head. It used to take me an hour or more to coax you back into bed.”
Ianto shuddered at the thought of being trapped in that state of fear for longer than a few minutes with Jack crouched in front of him as if he were some sort of wounded animal. Jack gave him a reassuring squeeze and together they climbed under the sheets.
“Have you still got that tether?” Ianto asked.
Jack smiled and fished it out of the drawer.
When Ianto woke early the next morning and hobbled into the bathroom for a pee, he discovered Jack masturbating in the shower, eyes closed, shoulders hunched under the spray, hand braced against the wall softly grunting over the soft slap of skin on skin, and all of a sudden Ianto was incredibly horny. He waited until Jack came with a soft gasp before turning his attention towards deflating his own raging hard on so he could relieve his bladder.
He thought about it all day while catching up on soap operas (Jade was cheating on Sphen with Montana again), eating lunch with Tosh, and working through the three and a half months of email piled up in his in box.
That evening when Jack came home, Ianto met him at the door with a searing kiss. Jack seemed to melt into his arms. Ianto wasted no time. He pushed the man's coat off his shoulders leaving it in a heap by the door and pulled him into the bedroom by his bright red braces without breaking the kiss. Hands were everywhere as they tumbled into the mattress, and Ianto gasped as he felt Jack's hard length pressing into his thigh.
But Jack was pulling away.
Ianto tried to pull him back, but Jack grabbed hold of both the young man's hands and sat back, resting his forehead against Ianto's as he caught his breath.
“Ianto,” he said, “Slow down. Lets talk about this for a minute.”
“You don't want me anymore.” Ianto whispered, pulling away so he could swing his legs over the other corner of the bed where he wouldn't have to see Jack's expression. To be honest he was expecting this. It had been over 3 months after all. And Ianto felt dirty and spoiled. Even though he had no memories of it occurring, he could still feel it crawling under his skin.
But then Jack was beside him with his hands on his face and he was saying, “Nonononono,” as he tilted Ianto's head back so he could look into his eyes. “Oh Ianto,” he murmured, “I want you so bad, some days its all I can think about. Its gotten worse since you woke up to be honest.” Jack was carding his fingers through Ianto's hair. “That first morning with the omelet,” Jack smiled, “And you arched your eye brow just so. I wanted to kiss you so badly. I wanted to suck your lips right off your face.”
“You haven't moved on?” Ianto asked.
“Of course not,” Jack assured him.
“Your still interested in me?”
“Very, very interested.” Jack was speaking in that breathy tone that always sent electricity down Ianto's spine and strait to his cock.
“What's the problem then?” Ianto asked, reaching down to tug Jack's shirt from his trousers. Once again, the older man stopped him, grabbing hold of his hands.
“We need to take this slow,” he said.
“Jack, your not going to hurt me,” Ianto insisted, meeting the man's eyes with a smile of his own. “Its been what, almost four months, and I can't remember any of it anyway.”
“Didn't stop you from having a freak out over your own pants,” Jack pointed out.
“Thanks for that, Jack, I was just starting to forget that horrifying episode” He sighed. The man did have a point. “If sex is going to freak me out so much, then why do I want it so badly?” He asked, “I wanked off twice today after you left, just from seeing you in the shower. All I could think about was you pounding into me instead of into your hand.”
“You watched me wank off in the shower?” Jack asked, with a smile on his face.
“Yes,” Ianto said, “I almost jumped in with you, but I really had to pee.”
Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto's middle and pulled him close. “Some times when people are raped things go the other way,” Jack said, “They crave sex instead of fearing it.”
Ianto frowned and furrowed his brow. “Really? Why?”
Jack shook his head. “I have no idea. I think it's a control thing.”
“Are you going to tell me another story about one of your ex-boyfriends?”
Jack smiled, “No.” Jacks hands were on his face again, studying him with those sharp blue eyes. “I know you really want this. I know you probably want it fast and dirty, but even if I did think you were ready for that, I wouldn't be able to do it. Not yet. I want to take this slow. You need to take this slow, and I'm not going to loose you again, okay?”
“Okay, Jack. You're the sex expert. What should we do?”
Jack laughed. “I'm not the expert on this, Ianto.” He rubbed his hands down Ianto's arms and leaned in for another kiss. Then he started speaking in those breathy tones again that made Ianto want to melt. “So far you've survived kissing,” he murmured, moving in closer. He claimed Ianto's lips once again. “And you're good with being naked. So lets just take off our cloths and make out for a while.”
“Ianto reached for Jack's shirt again, and was not stopped this time. The braces came down, and the blue fabric pulled loose. Jack undid his own buttons while Ianto pushed eager hands beneath his shirts in search of skin. It felt so warm and soft against his scared aching hands. Then the shirts were gone, and the smell hit him full force, musk, spice, a hint of sweat. Jack didn't even need deodorant on hot days to mask it. Ianto felt hunger bubbling in his chest as he buried his face into the cleft between Jacks pectorals licking and biting. There were hands on his back, pushing up his shirt. Reluctantly he pulled away, lifting his arms above his head so Jack could tug off his jumper and the long sleeved shirt he wore underneath Then it was skin against skin and he was scrabbling at Jack's belt, pushing aside the pain it would take to get it open.
“Slow down,” Jack murmured. “We've got all night.”
Ianto nodded, and took a deep breath as Jack pushed his hands away to pull loose his own gun belt. Ianto watched, forehead resting against Jacks, one hand on the other man's shoulder, the other down the front of his own pajama bottoms as Jack opened his fly and pushed down the front of his shorts. His penis sprang free, purple and swollen jutting up from a nest of dark hair. Ianto reached down to touch it, rubbing his scared fingers along the hot velvety skin.
“Okay?” Jack asked.
Ianto wrapped his fingers around it and listened to the sharp intake of breath as he stroked it long and smooth from base to tip. It's heat felt so good against his sore hands. His other hand was still clenched around his own shaft. “Keep going,” he whispered.
Jack nodded and moved both hands to his belt, laying back and lifting his hips to get his trousers off. He tossed them aside and backed up until he was resting against the head board, knees slightly splayed, slowly stroking his erection. Ianto followed suit, shimmying out of the two layers of pajama bottoms he wore, still frustrated at the amount of weight he'd lost. It didn't seem to bother Jack at all. He just looked him up and down with a grin, and for a moment Ianto forgot about the grime he could still feel crawling under his skin, and the rats burrowing through his stomach. He scooted up to the head bored and melted into Jack's soft heat as they resumed their kissing, roaming across the planes of Jack's body with needy hands while he rubbed his erection slowly against his lover's thigh.
Jack's hands were still too careful though, so Ianto took it upon himself to grab one of them and guide it back to the curve of his ass, murmuring with approval as Jack made a careful squeeze. Jack became a little more confident and a moment later both hands were on his butt pulling him up to straddle Jack's lap. Their cocks connected hot and smooth, rubbing together with gentle thrusts. Ianto gasped and reached between them to smear pre-come over both shafts. “Oh, I've missed this,” Jack's voice was on the edge of sobbing. “I've missed this so much.”
“Me to,” Ianto murmured, “feels so good.”
Jack's hand joined his and their fingers wove together. Jack started to make those delightful moans and grunts, and Ianto watched his face gasping and murmuring his name as he began to loose control Jack opened his eyes and a moment later Ianto was coming, hips jerking, semen covering their hands. Jack followed, head pressed back into the headboard as his whole body clenched, Ianto's name on his lips.
Jack's smile as he came down from his high was infectious, and Ianto felt warmer than he had since he woke up over a week before. He snuggled into the crook of his lover's neck.
The next day dragged on forever, but Ianto had a smile on his face. Even through the agony of physical therapy he was grinning and joking with the therapist. When Jack came home dirty and disheveled, cloths covered in blood and dirt from a weevil attack, Ianto was waiting for him with another kiss. This time he pulled Jack into the bathroom and they shed all their cloths before stepping under the hot spray of the shower. The soap slicked skin was intoxicating, but Ianto didn't want to come too soon. He had another idea. “I bet I haven't gotten a blow job in over three months,” He murmured into Jack's ear, carefully avoiding mention of the kidnapping its self. He felt Jack smile against the side of his face.
“I guess you're due then,” and the older man sank to his knees. Ianto sat down on the shelf built into the shower, carelessly pushing aside bottles of shampoo and shower gel while Jack shuffled into position. The older man dived in, and Ianto threw his head back into the tile, moaning with ecstasy as he was enveloped in hot heat. A century and a half of practice made Jack a master of head. The man had conquered his gag reflex decades ago, and his tongue was agile enough to tie Ianto's penis into a knot like a cherry stem. The talented muscle undulated against him causing his body to jerk and throb as Jack recited alien limericks yet to be written under his breath. Then he worked the whole thing in and out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and then licking it like a lolly pop. Tiny gentle nips followed by wet sloppy kisses, and then Ianto was lodged down the back of this throat again while Jack hummed with satisfaction. Jack liked to bring him right to the edge and then pull his mouth off completely, blowing cool air against the hot skin until Ianto's breathing evened out. Then he'd do it all over again until Ianto was sure he'd blow the back of Jack's head right off when he finally came. Then their was the cu-d-gratis. A single finger, slicked up with soapy water sliding behind his balls, along his perineum, not stopping until it was at his tight puckered entrance. Jack's hum this time was a question. Ianto's fist was in his hair, nails digging red marks into his shoulder, aching feet scrabbling against the floor, breaths short and hitching, while his head spun with arousal. “Yes,” he breathed, “Fuck yes!”
Next thing he knew he was wet and shivering, packed into a corner of the bathroom, gasping his way through the tail end of a panic attack, tears streaming down his face as he watched Jack wrapped haphazardly in a towel kneeling a few feet away pleading and begging with him while wiping tears from his own eyes.
Still unable to speak, Ianto simply reached out to the older man. A towel was pressed into his hand, and Ianto set it aside before reaching out again. This time Jack figured it out and took his hand, scooting himself against the wall so he could wrap Ianto in his arms and sooth him through the last few minutes of the fading attack.
They stayed like that for some time, holding each other as the water slowly dried on their skin.
“I'm so sorry,” Jack murmured, tears giving a slight edge to his voice. “I should have known that would happen.”
“No,” said Ianto, “you're not gonna be sorry, not for this. It was an experiment, and it didn't work.”
“Ianto?”
“No. I'm not going to let some twisted asshole take away my amazing sex life,” he insisted. “We just won't do that again for a little while. I'm sure there are plenty of other things we can try in the meantime.”
Jack nodded, a small smile crossing his face, “Okay.”
Warnings: implied violence and non-con. May trigger, a bit squicky, American attempting to approximate British speak. This chapter also contains shameless smut.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Sex and Sandwiches
Days went by before Ianto finally convinced Jack it would be okay for him to return to work. The morning before he left, Jack made him promise to call if he had even the tiniest problem. A few hours later Ianto was pleasantly surprised to find Tosh on his door step with a pizza box in her hands and a smile on her face.
Ianto endured a hug and invited her in. He managed to eat only a slice and a half of the pizza as they talked.
Jack was predictably moody the past three months, Owen was continuing to be an ass, and Gwen was trying not to make a mess of the archives and probably failing miserably. Ianto missed a rather entertaining incident involving a kleptomaniac Briccian who stole several hundred pairs of woman’s pantie-hoes out of various Tesco's across Wales. They finally tracked him down in a forest a few miles outside of Cardiff. He was building some sort of structure out of the leg ware up in the trees. Jack's theory was that the Briccian was preparing to spawn. The clean up took hours.
The next day Gwen showed up around noon to take him to lunch and physical therapy. Ianto endured another hug and listened to her complain about Rhys's horrible parents over fish and chips. She was seriously starting to get sick of the whole pre-wedding drama and the way every little detail became a battle of wills between in-laws. The two of them laughed and joked about the possibility of giving the whole thing a miss and going to Las Vegas for a drive through wedding at an alien themed chapel.
Then it was Owen with a bag of sandwiches. Ianto tensed as Owen came close, but then the Doctor said, “Don't worry mate, I'm not going to hug you.”
“Oh thank god,” Ianto replied with a breath of relief, and let him in.
Owen looked at the scars on his hands and feet with a critical eye. He asked about nightmares and panic attacks. A couple of bottles appeared on Ianto's coffee table. He recognized the names on them from the months after Lisa's death. “Take them if you need them,” Owen said. “Do you remember anything at all?”
“No,” Ianto replied.
“That's probably for the best,” Owen said.
“How much do you know?” Ianto asked, suddenly panicked.
“I'm your doctor, Ianto. I was there when they brought you into A&E.”
“Does everyone know?”
“Know what?”
“That I was raped,” Ianto whispered.
“Just me and Jack.” Ianto frowned and stared at the two bottles on the coffee table.
At that point Owen quickly changed the subject to rugby and sandwiches appeared on the table along side the pills.
The rats were back now. They'd been creeping in his gut all week, and now they were building their nests and settling in. Ianto barley managed half his sandwich before he had to push it aside. Owen offered him something for his appetite, but Ianto shook his head. Between the prescriptions from the hospital, the bottles Helen gave him, and now Owen's contribution, he already felt like he could stock a pharmacy.
That evening the nightmares started. Ianto found himself in a twisted maze of corridors lit by flickering pail yellow bulbs hanging off the ceiling. Everything was filthy. Used condoms, raw sewage, and vomit littered the floor and piled up in the corners. Ianto was naked, his hands and feet broken, forcing him to move around on his elbows and knees as he searched for an exit. Everywhere he went he could hear footsteps above him coming closer and closer as they stomped down a set of stairs.
The closer the footsteps got, the more panicked he became until he was pressing himself into a corner curled up into the smallest ball possible waiting for the creak of an opening door while he trembled and shook, tears streaming down his face.
It took several minutes before he realized the man calling his name was Jack. The older man was crouched a few feet away, panic lining his face as he pleaded with Ianto. The young man swore as he gasped for air, relief flooding through his tight chest. He reached out a hand, wandering why Jack was so far away, and desperately needing a tangible reassurance that he was safe and home. Jack reached out with a tentative hand, and Ianto grabbed hold of it and tugged him in.
Jack took the hint and with a grateful sigh he gathered Ianto up in his arms. “Come on, lets go back to bed,” he whispered.
Ianto was surprised to discover he made it as far as his living room while he dreamed.
As they shuffled back into the bedroom, still wrapped in each others arms Jack said, “This is a whole lot easier with you back in your head. It used to take me an hour or more to coax you back into bed.”
Ianto shuddered at the thought of being trapped in that state of fear for longer than a few minutes with Jack crouched in front of him as if he were some sort of wounded animal. Jack gave him a reassuring squeeze and together they climbed under the sheets.
“Have you still got that tether?” Ianto asked.
Jack smiled and fished it out of the drawer.
When Ianto woke early the next morning and hobbled into the bathroom for a pee, he discovered Jack masturbating in the shower, eyes closed, shoulders hunched under the spray, hand braced against the wall softly grunting over the soft slap of skin on skin, and all of a sudden Ianto was incredibly horny. He waited until Jack came with a soft gasp before turning his attention towards deflating his own raging hard on so he could relieve his bladder.
He thought about it all day while catching up on soap operas (Jade was cheating on Sphen with Montana again), eating lunch with Tosh, and working through the three and a half months of email piled up in his in box.
That evening when Jack came home, Ianto met him at the door with a searing kiss. Jack seemed to melt into his arms. Ianto wasted no time. He pushed the man's coat off his shoulders leaving it in a heap by the door and pulled him into the bedroom by his bright red braces without breaking the kiss. Hands were everywhere as they tumbled into the mattress, and Ianto gasped as he felt Jack's hard length pressing into his thigh.
But Jack was pulling away.
Ianto tried to pull him back, but Jack grabbed hold of both the young man's hands and sat back, resting his forehead against Ianto's as he caught his breath.
“Ianto,” he said, “Slow down. Lets talk about this for a minute.”
“You don't want me anymore.” Ianto whispered, pulling away so he could swing his legs over the other corner of the bed where he wouldn't have to see Jack's expression. To be honest he was expecting this. It had been over 3 months after all. And Ianto felt dirty and spoiled. Even though he had no memories of it occurring, he could still feel it crawling under his skin.
But then Jack was beside him with his hands on his face and he was saying, “Nonononono,” as he tilted Ianto's head back so he could look into his eyes. “Oh Ianto,” he murmured, “I want you so bad, some days its all I can think about. Its gotten worse since you woke up to be honest.” Jack was carding his fingers through Ianto's hair. “That first morning with the omelet,” Jack smiled, “And you arched your eye brow just so. I wanted to kiss you so badly. I wanted to suck your lips right off your face.”
“You haven't moved on?” Ianto asked.
“Of course not,” Jack assured him.
“Your still interested in me?”
“Very, very interested.” Jack was speaking in that breathy tone that always sent electricity down Ianto's spine and strait to his cock.
“What's the problem then?” Ianto asked, reaching down to tug Jack's shirt from his trousers. Once again, the older man stopped him, grabbing hold of his hands.
“We need to take this slow,” he said.
“Jack, your not going to hurt me,” Ianto insisted, meeting the man's eyes with a smile of his own. “Its been what, almost four months, and I can't remember any of it anyway.”
“Didn't stop you from having a freak out over your own pants,” Jack pointed out.
“Thanks for that, Jack, I was just starting to forget that horrifying episode” He sighed. The man did have a point. “If sex is going to freak me out so much, then why do I want it so badly?” He asked, “I wanked off twice today after you left, just from seeing you in the shower. All I could think about was you pounding into me instead of into your hand.”
“You watched me wank off in the shower?” Jack asked, with a smile on his face.
“Yes,” Ianto said, “I almost jumped in with you, but I really had to pee.”
Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto's middle and pulled him close. “Some times when people are raped things go the other way,” Jack said, “They crave sex instead of fearing it.”
Ianto frowned and furrowed his brow. “Really? Why?”
Jack shook his head. “I have no idea. I think it's a control thing.”
“Are you going to tell me another story about one of your ex-boyfriends?”
Jack smiled, “No.” Jacks hands were on his face again, studying him with those sharp blue eyes. “I know you really want this. I know you probably want it fast and dirty, but even if I did think you were ready for that, I wouldn't be able to do it. Not yet. I want to take this slow. You need to take this slow, and I'm not going to loose you again, okay?”
“Okay, Jack. You're the sex expert. What should we do?”
Jack laughed. “I'm not the expert on this, Ianto.” He rubbed his hands down Ianto's arms and leaned in for another kiss. Then he started speaking in those breathy tones again that made Ianto want to melt. “So far you've survived kissing,” he murmured, moving in closer. He claimed Ianto's lips once again. “And you're good with being naked. So lets just take off our cloths and make out for a while.”
“Ianto reached for Jack's shirt again, and was not stopped this time. The braces came down, and the blue fabric pulled loose. Jack undid his own buttons while Ianto pushed eager hands beneath his shirts in search of skin. It felt so warm and soft against his scared aching hands. Then the shirts were gone, and the smell hit him full force, musk, spice, a hint of sweat. Jack didn't even need deodorant on hot days to mask it. Ianto felt hunger bubbling in his chest as he buried his face into the cleft between Jacks pectorals licking and biting. There were hands on his back, pushing up his shirt. Reluctantly he pulled away, lifting his arms above his head so Jack could tug off his jumper and the long sleeved shirt he wore underneath Then it was skin against skin and he was scrabbling at Jack's belt, pushing aside the pain it would take to get it open.
“Slow down,” Jack murmured. “We've got all night.”
Ianto nodded, and took a deep breath as Jack pushed his hands away to pull loose his own gun belt. Ianto watched, forehead resting against Jacks, one hand on the other man's shoulder, the other down the front of his own pajama bottoms as Jack opened his fly and pushed down the front of his shorts. His penis sprang free, purple and swollen jutting up from a nest of dark hair. Ianto reached down to touch it, rubbing his scared fingers along the hot velvety skin.
“Okay?” Jack asked.
Ianto wrapped his fingers around it and listened to the sharp intake of breath as he stroked it long and smooth from base to tip. It's heat felt so good against his sore hands. His other hand was still clenched around his own shaft. “Keep going,” he whispered.
Jack nodded and moved both hands to his belt, laying back and lifting his hips to get his trousers off. He tossed them aside and backed up until he was resting against the head board, knees slightly splayed, slowly stroking his erection. Ianto followed suit, shimmying out of the two layers of pajama bottoms he wore, still frustrated at the amount of weight he'd lost. It didn't seem to bother Jack at all. He just looked him up and down with a grin, and for a moment Ianto forgot about the grime he could still feel crawling under his skin, and the rats burrowing through his stomach. He scooted up to the head bored and melted into Jack's soft heat as they resumed their kissing, roaming across the planes of Jack's body with needy hands while he rubbed his erection slowly against his lover's thigh.
Jack's hands were still too careful though, so Ianto took it upon himself to grab one of them and guide it back to the curve of his ass, murmuring with approval as Jack made a careful squeeze. Jack became a little more confident and a moment later both hands were on his butt pulling him up to straddle Jack's lap. Their cocks connected hot and smooth, rubbing together with gentle thrusts. Ianto gasped and reached between them to smear pre-come over both shafts. “Oh, I've missed this,” Jack's voice was on the edge of sobbing. “I've missed this so much.”
“Me to,” Ianto murmured, “feels so good.”
Jack's hand joined his and their fingers wove together. Jack started to make those delightful moans and grunts, and Ianto watched his face gasping and murmuring his name as he began to loose control Jack opened his eyes and a moment later Ianto was coming, hips jerking, semen covering their hands. Jack followed, head pressed back into the headboard as his whole body clenched, Ianto's name on his lips.
Jack's smile as he came down from his high was infectious, and Ianto felt warmer than he had since he woke up over a week before. He snuggled into the crook of his lover's neck.
The next day dragged on forever, but Ianto had a smile on his face. Even through the agony of physical therapy he was grinning and joking with the therapist. When Jack came home dirty and disheveled, cloths covered in blood and dirt from a weevil attack, Ianto was waiting for him with another kiss. This time he pulled Jack into the bathroom and they shed all their cloths before stepping under the hot spray of the shower. The soap slicked skin was intoxicating, but Ianto didn't want to come too soon. He had another idea. “I bet I haven't gotten a blow job in over three months,” He murmured into Jack's ear, carefully avoiding mention of the kidnapping its self. He felt Jack smile against the side of his face.
“I guess you're due then,” and the older man sank to his knees. Ianto sat down on the shelf built into the shower, carelessly pushing aside bottles of shampoo and shower gel while Jack shuffled into position. The older man dived in, and Ianto threw his head back into the tile, moaning with ecstasy as he was enveloped in hot heat. A century and a half of practice made Jack a master of head. The man had conquered his gag reflex decades ago, and his tongue was agile enough to tie Ianto's penis into a knot like a cherry stem. The talented muscle undulated against him causing his body to jerk and throb as Jack recited alien limericks yet to be written under his breath. Then he worked the whole thing in and out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and then licking it like a lolly pop. Tiny gentle nips followed by wet sloppy kisses, and then Ianto was lodged down the back of this throat again while Jack hummed with satisfaction. Jack liked to bring him right to the edge and then pull his mouth off completely, blowing cool air against the hot skin until Ianto's breathing evened out. Then he'd do it all over again until Ianto was sure he'd blow the back of Jack's head right off when he finally came. Then their was the cu-d-gratis. A single finger, slicked up with soapy water sliding behind his balls, along his perineum, not stopping until it was at his tight puckered entrance. Jack's hum this time was a question. Ianto's fist was in his hair, nails digging red marks into his shoulder, aching feet scrabbling against the floor, breaths short and hitching, while his head spun with arousal. “Yes,” he breathed, “Fuck yes!”
Next thing he knew he was wet and shivering, packed into a corner of the bathroom, gasping his way through the tail end of a panic attack, tears streaming down his face as he watched Jack wrapped haphazardly in a towel kneeling a few feet away pleading and begging with him while wiping tears from his own eyes.
Still unable to speak, Ianto simply reached out to the older man. A towel was pressed into his hand, and Ianto set it aside before reaching out again. This time Jack figured it out and took his hand, scooting himself against the wall so he could wrap Ianto in his arms and sooth him through the last few minutes of the fading attack.
They stayed like that for some time, holding each other as the water slowly dried on their skin.
“I'm so sorry,” Jack murmured, tears giving a slight edge to his voice. “I should have known that would happen.”
“No,” said Ianto, “you're not gonna be sorry, not for this. It was an experiment, and it didn't work.”
“Ianto?”
“No. I'm not going to let some twisted asshole take away my amazing sex life,” he insisted. “We just won't do that again for a little while. I'm sure there are plenty of other things we can try in the meantime.”
Jack nodded, a small smile crossing his face, “Okay.”