Brokeback Manor (1/9)
Title: Brokeback Manor
Authors: et_muse and angelzbabe1989
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, also mentions of Gwen/Rhys, Owen/Tosh
Rating: Mature/R
Disclaimer: We asked for Jack and Ianto for Christmas, but no one came through...
Authors' Note: This fic began its life as a one-shot PWP crack!fic which was inspired through a conversation on msn between et_muse and her sister angelzbabe1989 about the use of euphemisms in porn!fics, as the only ones angelz could think of were inspired by her reading of bodice rippers. However when et_muse came up with the title, the little plot bunnies ran amok and developed into full blown rabbits, and what once was a short piece of fiction became eight chapters plus an epilogue, and somehow developed a plot when we weren’t looking….Enjoy!
Summary: Bartholomew Jackson Harkness, Viscount Morville, hears little but of duty. His mother demands that he marry and beget heirs - and soon. She even has a suitable match in mind: his childhood friend, one Lady Gwendolyn Augusta Cooper. But Jack’s heart knows not of duty - only of love.
Spencer Ianto Huntly-Jones, Viscount Worfield, knows too the burden of familial duty. His ward, his sixteen year old sister Martha Honoria, will soon enter society. Knowing a scandal would severely blemish her delicate reputation, he and Jack must keep their love a closely guarded secret.
In a battle between the demands of society and the demands of the heart, who will emerge the victor?
Chapter One
February, 1823
Morville Hall, Shropshire, England
BARTHOLOMEW JACKSON HARKNESS, known to his familiars simply as Jack, was late. Spurring on his trusty steed, Apollo, he headed post-haste towards his favourite copse of trees. In the mid-morning light, rider and horse cut a dashing portrait through the countryside. Elegantly cut tailcoats flapped in the breeze, his windswept hair glinting darkly in the late winter sunlight. Reaching the copse, he swiftly dismounted and led his powerful stallion through the trees.
“Your proclivity for lateness is not one of your more endearing qualities.”
Jack turned from securing Apollo to face his indignant lover.
“Forgive me, Ianto, mother was unusually difficult this morning.”
Striding towards him with panther-like grace, Ianto quirked an eyebrow.
“Your mother is always difficult.”
“This morning she was exceptionally so. For more than a year now she has ignored my protestations that I do not wish to marry, not even our dear friend Gwendolyn. It is becoming unbearably…”
The remainder of Jack’s sentence was lost to the wind as his lips were claimed by Ianto’s demanding kiss. The familiar pressure of his lover’s sensuous lips engulfed Jack’s mind, sweeping away all rational thought. Desire polled in his gut, coursing through his veins like a storm-swelled river. Surging towards his young lover, he grasped Ianto’s silky locks, his fingers gliding through the rich chocolate strands.
Ianto savoured the glorious sensation of homecoming evoked by Jack’s enveloping presence. Their twice-weekly stolen moments seemed to be becoming frustratingly infrequent, and Jack’s habitual tardiness grated as an unconscionable waste. Gripping his paramour’s lapels, Ianto sank into the deepening kiss, waves of lust washing over him. Overwhelmed by the imperative for skin-to-skin contact, he pressed closer, his nimble fingers seeking out Jack’s cravat, exposing a tempting expanse of creamy skin. Succumbing to temptation, Ianto tore his lips from those of his flame, dipping to sample the salty sweep of Jack’s neck.
The press of his partner’s passionate exploration of his collarbone stole Jack’s breath away, leaving him panting. Gliding his palms down the sleek contours of Ianto’s back, he slipped his hands under the younger man’s tailcoat to cup the sweet curvature of his lover’s derriere and press their hard thighs together.
Inundated by desire, the illicit lovers simultaneously surrendered; the reins of control slipping through their fingers, unleashing their base demons. Losing all sense of time and space, they revelled in each other’s touch. Their minds awash in wandering hands, open-mouthed kisses and frantic unbuttoning, they gratified their primal needs.
Ianto gasped as Jack trailed whispering fingers downwards over tingling skin to release the fastenings constraining his hardening bulge. Closing a hot palm around his pulsating member, Jack freed Ianto from the confines of his breeches. Aware that his last vestiges of rational thought were fading rapidly, Ianto hastened to reciprocate, exposing Jack’s burgeoning shaft to his appreciative gaze.
Eyes locking, they gazed into each other’s souls as they began a slow, deliberate rhythm. Hunger flooded their systems as they basked in their confident strokes. The tension mounted, and the pace grew sloppy. Their breathing grew irregular as they exchanged frenzied kisses, Ianto’s unemployed hand carding through Jack’s hair. As the pinnacle approached, a silent battle was waged as each spurred the other ever faster towards completion. In a sudden rush, they reached the crest of the wave, crashing over the waterfall to shatter into the welcoming pool below. Replete, they sank into the depths of oblivion.
* * *
“She is undoubtedly shrewd in her observations,” Jack agreed as he lovingly re-buttoned Ianto’s waistcoat.
“Unapologetically so,” Ianto replied, “and whilst some of the ton will certainly chastise her for it, I would not wish her to change.” His affection for his younger sister was evident in his voice as he watched, amused, as Jack struggled with his cravat. Continuing their unspoken ritual, he replaced his lover’s hands with his own, smoothing Jack’s cravat into his customary flamboyant style.
Ambling towards their horses, the two men clasped hands, eking every last possible drop of contact from their secret rendezvous before the inevitable return to their public personas.
After one final lingering kiss, they remounted their horses and hied off to their respective estates.
And on to chapter two...
Authors: et_muse and angelzbabe1989
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, also mentions of Gwen/Rhys, Owen/Tosh
Rating: Mature/R
Disclaimer: We asked for Jack and Ianto for Christmas, but no one came through...
Authors' Note: This fic began its life as a one-shot PWP crack!fic which was inspired through a conversation on msn between et_muse and her sister angelzbabe1989 about the use of euphemisms in porn!fics, as the only ones angelz could think of were inspired by her reading of bodice rippers. However when et_muse came up with the title, the little plot bunnies ran amok and developed into full blown rabbits, and what once was a short piece of fiction became eight chapters plus an epilogue, and somehow developed a plot when we weren’t looking….Enjoy!
Summary: Bartholomew Jackson Harkness, Viscount Morville, hears little but of duty. His mother demands that he marry and beget heirs - and soon. She even has a suitable match in mind: his childhood friend, one Lady Gwendolyn Augusta Cooper. But Jack’s heart knows not of duty - only of love.
Spencer Ianto Huntly-Jones, Viscount Worfield, knows too the burden of familial duty. His ward, his sixteen year old sister Martha Honoria, will soon enter society. Knowing a scandal would severely blemish her delicate reputation, he and Jack must keep their love a closely guarded secret.
In a battle between the demands of society and the demands of the heart, who will emerge the victor?
Chapter One
February, 1823
Morville Hall, Shropshire, England
BARTHOLOMEW JACKSON HARKNESS, known to his familiars simply as Jack, was late. Spurring on his trusty steed, Apollo, he headed post-haste towards his favourite copse of trees. In the mid-morning light, rider and horse cut a dashing portrait through the countryside. Elegantly cut tailcoats flapped in the breeze, his windswept hair glinting darkly in the late winter sunlight. Reaching the copse, he swiftly dismounted and led his powerful stallion through the trees.
“Your proclivity for lateness is not one of your more endearing qualities.”
Jack turned from securing Apollo to face his indignant lover.
“Forgive me, Ianto, mother was unusually difficult this morning.”
Striding towards him with panther-like grace, Ianto quirked an eyebrow.
“Your mother is always difficult.”
“This morning she was exceptionally so. For more than a year now she has ignored my protestations that I do not wish to marry, not even our dear friend Gwendolyn. It is becoming unbearably…”
The remainder of Jack’s sentence was lost to the wind as his lips were claimed by Ianto’s demanding kiss. The familiar pressure of his lover’s sensuous lips engulfed Jack’s mind, sweeping away all rational thought. Desire polled in his gut, coursing through his veins like a storm-swelled river. Surging towards his young lover, he grasped Ianto’s silky locks, his fingers gliding through the rich chocolate strands.
Ianto savoured the glorious sensation of homecoming evoked by Jack’s enveloping presence. Their twice-weekly stolen moments seemed to be becoming frustratingly infrequent, and Jack’s habitual tardiness grated as an unconscionable waste. Gripping his paramour’s lapels, Ianto sank into the deepening kiss, waves of lust washing over him. Overwhelmed by the imperative for skin-to-skin contact, he pressed closer, his nimble fingers seeking out Jack’s cravat, exposing a tempting expanse of creamy skin. Succumbing to temptation, Ianto tore his lips from those of his flame, dipping to sample the salty sweep of Jack’s neck.
The press of his partner’s passionate exploration of his collarbone stole Jack’s breath away, leaving him panting. Gliding his palms down the sleek contours of Ianto’s back, he slipped his hands under the younger man’s tailcoat to cup the sweet curvature of his lover’s derriere and press their hard thighs together.
Inundated by desire, the illicit lovers simultaneously surrendered; the reins of control slipping through their fingers, unleashing their base demons. Losing all sense of time and space, they revelled in each other’s touch. Their minds awash in wandering hands, open-mouthed kisses and frantic unbuttoning, they gratified their primal needs.
Ianto gasped as Jack trailed whispering fingers downwards over tingling skin to release the fastenings constraining his hardening bulge. Closing a hot palm around his pulsating member, Jack freed Ianto from the confines of his breeches. Aware that his last vestiges of rational thought were fading rapidly, Ianto hastened to reciprocate, exposing Jack’s burgeoning shaft to his appreciative gaze.
Eyes locking, they gazed into each other’s souls as they began a slow, deliberate rhythm. Hunger flooded their systems as they basked in their confident strokes. The tension mounted, and the pace grew sloppy. Their breathing grew irregular as they exchanged frenzied kisses, Ianto’s unemployed hand carding through Jack’s hair. As the pinnacle approached, a silent battle was waged as each spurred the other ever faster towards completion. In a sudden rush, they reached the crest of the wave, crashing over the waterfall to shatter into the welcoming pool below. Replete, they sank into the depths of oblivion.
* * *
“She is undoubtedly shrewd in her observations,” Jack agreed as he lovingly re-buttoned Ianto’s waistcoat.
“Unapologetically so,” Ianto replied, “and whilst some of the ton will certainly chastise her for it, I would not wish her to change.” His affection for his younger sister was evident in his voice as he watched, amused, as Jack struggled with his cravat. Continuing their unspoken ritual, he replaced his lover’s hands with his own, smoothing Jack’s cravat into his customary flamboyant style.
Ambling towards their horses, the two men clasped hands, eking every last possible drop of contact from their secret rendezvous before the inevitable return to their public personas.
After one final lingering kiss, they remounted their horses and hied off to their respective estates.
And on to chapter two...