Cruising - Horizons Sing Day 20
Title: Cruising
Author: dvanulya
Rating: NC-17, for the sex
Genre: angst
Pairing: Ianto/a trick
Spoilers: none; set between seasons 1 & 2
Word count: 790-ish
Summary: Horizons Sing summer challenge Day 20; Jack’s gone…
Disclaimer: I own nothing. These lovely characters are the property of the almighty BBC and the prophet Russell T Davies. I’m just using them for slightly nefarious purposes. And I’m certainly not making any money from this.
But I was in search of love in those days, and I went full of curiosity and the faint, unrecognized apprehension that here, at last, I should find that low door in the wall, which others, I knew, had found before me, which opened on an enclosed and enchanted garden, which was somewhere, not overlooked by any window, in the heart of that grey city.
- Evelyn Waugh,
Brideshead Revisited
Cruising
Jack had been gone for a month before Ianto went to the park.
He avoided the side where he had first encountered the leader of Torchwood 3. No other memories would ever be allowed to compete with the one of Jack, under the tree, wrestling the Weevil, bleeding and then not bleeding. He had realized at that moment just how strong a hold Jack Harkness would have on him, and had wanted to turn and run as far and as fast as he could. But he hadn’t. That had been just one more of those decisions that had led him here, to this time and place.
Ianto walked quickly, hands in the pockets of his tightest black jeans, again fighting the urge to run, or cry. With his head down, he missed the appreciative looks that others out for a similar stroll were sending him. They all noticed his fit body, the firm ass encased in black denim, the too-open shirt. Some noticed the desperation in his demeanor and were either intrigued or frightened, depending on their own particular demons.
He’d reached the end of the path and stood, slightly sheltered by a large hedge of some sort, looking out over the emptiness of bay and sky for a long time before he was approached. Hands appeared on the railing to his right; they curled around the metal and gripped it tightly, holding for a moment before sliding an inch or two closer to his own. Ianto took a deep breath and looked up, into the stars, staring, waiting for something, anything. A shooting star. A flashing red STOP or NO. He sighed.
Turning carefully, Ianto faced him. The man - practically a boy - who stood there was openly appraising him, eyes sharp and knowing. A hand lifted to his shoulder, and he allowed it to rest there, heavy and so very, very real. Ianto swallowed noisily and leaned forward until his lips were a fraction of an inch from the other man’s. He noted the darkening of unfamiliar, brown eyes, the recognizable scent of arousal. Recognizable, but still different.
He leaned that fraction further and kissed the stranger, touching only with his lips and tongue. It was not a gentle kiss, nor was it a particularly passionate one. It was a seeking kiss.
Someone groaned and suddenly Ianto’s hands were moving, too, on the man’s body, grabbing at him, feeling the heat and pulse of live flesh under his fingers, making him hard, harder, making him push his body against the other. He could feel the stranger’s dick, hard against his hipbone as he pulled them together.
The man pulled back away from Ianto’s mouth. “I was watching you,” he gasped out.
“Shut up.” Ianto’s mouth covered his again, giving him no chance to disobey the order. He thought of something and asked quickly, roughly, “How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“Right then. On your knees.”
A slight narrowing of the eyes told him the young man might not appreciate being ordered about in that fashion, but obviously he didn’t mind that much because he dropped down and reached to unfasten Ianto’s trousers. Ianto closed his eyes when a hand pulled his cock out. The night air was cool on the sensitive flesh, but almost immediately he was in the man’s mouth, hot and wet and sucking.
Ianto’s eyes remained resolutely closed; he did not want to watch this.
The mouth on his cock was unfamiliar, the tongue curved against him differently. He didn’t want different. He reached one hand down, held it against the back of the man’s head, pulled him down onto his cock. Ianto held him there and fucked his mouth, hard and fast. When he came, he squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut, until staccato bursts of light filled his head, blotting out everything but his cock emptying into a strange throat.
The man leaned back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then stood and pushed closer to Ianto, trying to kiss him. At the last second, Ianto turned his head and felt swollen lips brush his cheek.
“Thanks.” He heard - felt - a huff in his ear.
“What? No turn about, then?”
“No.”
“Fucker.”
“Sorry.” Ianto tried to look sorry. “I’ve got to go.”
“Yeah. Be seeing you.”
“No.”
This time as Ianto walked back down the path, he made eye contact with every man who looked his way. He watched them all turn away from the blazing pain and truth in his eyes. He kept his head up and his back straight until he reached the tree, the spot he’d vowed not to go to. Only then did he bend, bow his head against the rough bark of the tree, cry.
~end~