FIC: The Writer Speaks!
Title: The Writer Speaks!
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Rhys, PC Andy, Captain John, Owen
Rating: NC-17 (NSFL - Not Safe For Libraries)
Spoilers: Slight mention of Day 4, not much bearing on this story though.
Disclaimers: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, they belong to the BBC and RTD. Any original characters and places are my property.
Summary: Sometimes the muses prefer to argue than do what they are told to by the writer.
Author's Notes: My muses had abandoned me, and I turned to the boys of Torchwood to get them jumpstarted again. Thank you boys! *grin*
The Writer Speaks!
The clacking of fingers striking the keyboard with deliberate passion resonated in the small room. Except for two pillar candles, the only light in the room came from the glow of the computer screen. She let out a contented sigh as ideas wrote themselves across the screen.
Jack arched his back as he brought his hand around, cupping Ianto’s bare ass. Working his hand into the Welshman’s hair, Jack pulled Ianto in tight and proceeded to passionately kiss the younger man, his lips crushing Ianto’s as he growled into the other man’s mouth. Ianto continued to tease Jack’s cock, tiptoeing his fingertips up and down its length.
“God, Ianto, fuck me now,” Jack hoarsely whispered in the man’s ear.
“Say please,” Ianto stated, gripping Jack’s hard. As he smiled at the older man, he could feel Jack’s cock twitch and harden.
“Oh come on,” a voice scoffed behind her right ear. “He would so not make him say please.”
The writer groaned and dropped forward, gently slamming her head against the glass monitor. She reached for the mouse, finding it and clicking on the iTunes application, turning it on full blast to “The Devils Skirt,” trying to drown out her commentator. She sat back up and, without even giving the voice a glance, continued to write.
“Oh, Ianto, anything,” Jack replied. “Please, please fuck me,” Jack said as he gave Ianto’s ass a smack, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Ianto’s lips thinned as he glowered at Jack. “Whatever you wish,” he said as he kneeled next to him. Ianto put a hand on Jack’s hip and roughly flipped Jack over onto his stomach. Ianto then straddled Jack, grabbing his ass.
“I highly doubt that,” a heavier voice said from behind her left ear.
She let out a grunt and dropped her head, burying her chin in her chest. “Now what?”
“Jack wouldn’t flip over that easily, especially if he hasn’t laid off the pastries in a couple of days,” the voice behind her left ear said.
“Oi! You saying I’m fat?” The voice behind her right ear seemed offended.
“Think what you will, Sir.” She could hear the smile in the voice behind her left ear.
Resisting the urge to smash her head through the computer monitor, the writer slowly turned around in her office chair. The two men just glared at each other from either side of her.
“What is your problem, Ianto?” Jack asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Do I have a problem?” Ianto put his hands on his hips, looking at the ceiling, at the floor, but not at Jack.
“Hey! I thought I had you two naked,” the writer interjected taking in Ianto in his full grey pinstriped suit and waistcoat, while Jack wore the whole blue shirt, blue pants and braces ensemble.
“Ask him,” Jack said. “I have no problem with being naked.”
“We know,” Ianto tersely said.
“So what’s the problem?” Jack asked.
“You get to live forever, some of us do not,” Ianto coldly said, finally looking Jack in the eyes.
“This is bothering you now,” Jack stated. His features suddenly softened and he walked over, enveloping Ianto in a hug. “What happened?”
“I saw her on the internet earlier, and I saw…” Ianto looked up at Jack, his blue eyes glistening.
The writer quickly covered her mouth in shock. “Oh no, Day 4,” she said. “Well, you can’t be that surprised, you did work for Torchwood - twice.”
“I know, it’s just-,” Ianto looked at Jack and took a breath. “Sorry, it just took me by surprise,” Ianto stated. “Now where were we?” Ianto brought his hands up to Jack’s neck and pulled him in close, kissing him on the lips.
The writer smiled and turned back to her computer.
Ianto straddled Jack’s backside, pinching his ass. He then began to spread Jack’s-
“Um, listen,” Jack said in her right ear.
“What?” the writer snapped at him, feeling frustrated.
“Ianto’s had a bad month, do you think you could spice it up for him, for us?” She could feel Jack’s blue eyes boring into the back of her head. “I’ll let you see another one of my memories of the lesbians if you do,” Jack nearly purred the sentence out.
“What lesbians?”
“Alice and Emily. I’ll let you see our threesome for your next story,” Jack said.
The writer bit her lower lip considering the carrot that was dangled in front of her. Readers might get a kick out of Victorian threesome in Torchwood. She shook her head and began to type again.
Ianto started to spread open Jack’s ass cheeks when Rhys walked out of the bathroom, only a towel wrapped around him.
“Hey thanks mates, I needed that. Whatever that thing was that slimed us, it was foul,” Rhys said as he finished drying off his hair. He looked up at Jack and Ianto. “Hey mates, mind if I join in?”
“Oh come on! No way! I refuse!” Rhys glared down at her from next to the computer. “No, mate, I don’t swing that way!”
“But it’s Torchwood, everyone does everyone, at least once, even Gwen made out with Carys,” the writer defended herself.
“And if you believed everything in Torchwood then all of Cardiff would be bi,” Rhys retorted. “Bloody hell, make it all of the UK. Everyone everywhere in the United Kingdom snogs anything that can even crawl.” Rhys tugged down on his rugby jersey. “And what the hell did Gwen do?”
“Snogged a woman who was possessed by an alien on her first day of work,” Ianto filled in.
“Bastard Torchwood. Bloody bastard Torchwood,” Rhys spat out, pointing a finger at Jack.
“Hey, hey now,” Jack said, holding up his hands in supplication. “We were all surprised when we saw her doing that. You need to talk to your wife, not me.”
“When you all saw her? You were watching!” Rhys strode over to Jack, punching his index finger into Jack’s chest. “You were watching her make out with a bloody woman!”
“Yeah,” Jack drawled out, a smile spreading across his face.
“OI!” Rhys clenched his fists at his side, struggling to not punch out Jack.
Ianto rolled his eyes and sat down on the computer desk next to the writer. The writer dropped her head into her arms, resting her elbows on her knees. This is not what she had planned on. Just a little smut for her readers and now Rhys and Jack were ready to start throwing punches - well, at least Rhys was. Actually, this was getting to be quite homoerotic…
“You two,” the writer sternly said, glaring at both Rhys and Jack, “will stop it right now. Otherwise the next thing I write will be Rhys fucking Jack, and Jack getting pregnant with their baby!”
“Intriguing,” Ianto replied.
“How is that possible?” Rhys asked.
Jack just got a big grin on his face until Ianto stood up and cleared his throat rather loudly. The writer began to giggle, just a bit at first, and then started laughing rather loudly.
“Now what?” Rhys wondered.
“Sorry, sorry,” the writer stammered out. “I was just imagining Gwen’s reaction to that bit of news.”
“Oh bloody hell,” Rhys muttered.
Ianto slid off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat. “Let’s allow her to finish this and just get it over with?” Ianto sat back down on the corner of her computer desk and patted the computer monitor.
The writer swiveled around in her chair and before she could begin typing, she heard a soft cough next to her right ear. She turned her head and stared into Rhys’ brown eyes.
“Um, listen, you don’t suppose you could send someone in there for me? Someone to rescue me?” Rhys nearly gave her puppy dog eyes.
The writer thought about it a moment and then a smile reached across her face and she shook her head yes. “Sure,” she said and hunched over the computer, typing away.
“Hey mates, mind if I join in?”
"Save me," Rhys growled in her ear, which made the writer shudder in a good way.
"Hold your piece and wait a minute, sheesh!" The writer let out a sigh and began to type again.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door and before either man could respond, the door was slammed open and PC Andy strode in, billy club in hand.
"All right- Bloody hell!" Andy dropped the billy club to his side. "We had reports of a disturbance in the building and Mrs. Giles, the old lady downstairs reported seeing a body bag drug up here. And what do I find? You lot!"
"The body bag is in the lounge, you passed it on your way in," Ianto replied, his fingers playing along Jack's crack.
"Yeah, but trust me," Rhys said putting a hand on Andy's arm. "It's not pretty, it's one of those alien things they go around with and apparently snog all the time."
"Hey! I don’t snog every alien," Jack replied as he humped ass back towards Ianto. Ianto smacked it soundly.
Andy turned to them and raised an eyebrow. "So, um, having fun there?"
"Why don’t you join us," Jack intoned, his voice rising as Ianto plunged two lubed up fingers into Jack's hole.
"Well, if it helps getting involved in Torchwood," Andy said as he stripped off his uniform jacket and shirt.
Rhys turned and looked at Andy's solid chest, with it's baby soft hairs and licked his lips--
"OI!"
Two voices screamed, one in either ear of the writer. She slightly jumped in her seat, blinking her eyes at the intensity of the shout. Swiveling around she faced two stormy Welsh faces glaring at her.
"I said help!" Rhys huffed at her.
"No, I don’t swing that way, especially with tubby here," Andy replied.
"Excuse me? Tubby?" Rhys turned his glare to Andy. "Idiot."
"You know, I'm finding this very homoerotic," Jack muttered to Ianto.
"Bloody hell," Andy stated, staring at Jack and Ianto. "Is this all you do in Torchwood? Fuck each other?"
"And hunt aliens," Ianto stated. "It’s what we do."
With the four men distracted by each other the writer hurriedly turned back to the computer and began to type away furiously.
Andy shot Rhys a look of longing and put his hands on the younger man's shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. The two men locked lips as Jack looked on. Jack was quickly distracted as Ianto eased his throbbing cock into the older man's waiting hole.
Suddenly a bright light filled the room and a man in a red Napoleanic coat stood before them, a leer on his face. Lowering his left arm he grinned at the foursome. "Forgot to call me for the party?" The man was naked before anyone could say Abergavenny. He smirked at their looks of shock. "A little trick I learned from buddy boy over there," he said, smiling at Jack.
"NO! No! No way," Jack said rather loudly, making the writer wince.
"Aw come on, why do you get to have all the eyecandy?"
The writer and the four men all turned in unison to the back of the living room and gaped as Captain John Hart stood there shirtless. He sauntered over to the group, ogling Andy, then Rhys and finally licking his lips as he looked at Ianto. Ianto rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall.
Jack bore down on the writer. "That is it! I promised I would help be your muse, but come on!"
"Awww, Jacky-boy, when was the last time you said no to an orgy. Never if I remember correctly." John put his hand on his hips.
"It's been a real long time since I was with you," Jack nearly spat out.
"You fucked him too?" Rhys gaped at Jack and John. "What haven't you stuck your cock into?"
Jack started to think but was cut off by Ianto stepping in front of him. "If we just do it and get it done with-"
"Absolutely not Ianto, I am not letting him anywhere near you," Jack tersely stated.
"Little Jackie doesn't want to share his toys?" John made a pouty face and then strode up to the writer, crouching in front of her, giving her a full view of his tight, hard chest. He began to run his hand across it. "Listen, how about being a love and adding in some bondage? Some handcuffs, some toys, a nipple clamp or two?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Andy interjected.
"Oh, I see you already have the handcuffs," John said standing up and walking over to Andy. John reached down and cupped Andy's cock through his trousers.
"OI!" Andy reached back and punched John.
John grinned, cradling his chin. "See, he knows I like it rough."
Jack turned on the writer. "You cannot seriously let this happen."
"What can I do? The readers like multiples," the writer replied, shrugging.
"Uh yeah, excuse me," another voice chimed in from the doorway to the living room. "Am I in this or am I supposedly dead already?"
Owen stepped into the room, hands in the pockets of his jeans. "It's been a while since I had a good sex scene," Owen said.
"Since when are you into blokes?" I thought you liked Tosh," Rhys stated.
"You knew?"
"Owen, everyone knew except maybe you," Jack said.
"You didn’t answer my question," Rhys said.
"First episode he snogged a man and took the guy and the guy's girlfriend back to his place," the writer chimed in.
Jack leered at Owen. Ianto rolled his eyes and Andy and Rhys looked at him amazed. John walked over and put an arm around Owen's shoulders.
"What a team you have here husband," John snapped at Jack.
Jack let out a sigh. "Fine, just get this over with."
The writer looked from guy to guy, none too pleased with the outcome. She shrugged her shoulders and slowly started turning her chair back to the computer.
"Um, can you at least cut the purple prose and just write the good action. Any romance novelist worth their weight in gold does not do so much purple prose as that. I mean come on, I have read tons better than that," Andy stated.
"I'm a little off today," the writer conceded.
"Wait, when do you read romance novels," Rhys quickly asked.
The writer and the other men turned on Andy. Andy suddenly looked chagrined and stepped back.
"I heard some, I heard some of the women in the precinct mention them."
"Uh-huh, sure," Rhys said trying not to giggle.
The writer cleared her throat. "Ahem, gentlemen. If you want good sex that will leave none of your asses hurting," she turned to Jack's whimper, "unless you want them too, then I need some inspiration."
Each man looked from one to the other and she could see a look of resolve on Rhys and Ianto's faces. John looked delighted while Jack flashed the Harkness grin. Owen cocked his head and stood forward while Andy let out sigh and stood up straight. The writer clapped her hands and had six gorgeous British men stark naked before her, all their assets proudly at attention.
"This I can work with," she said savoring the moment. With a contented sigh she turned back to the computer.
Jack pulled Ianto in to him, relishing the scent of the younger man. He nipped at Ianto's lower lip and then kissed him deeply. Ianto kissed back. Behind him he could feel Rhys' strong, yet soft hands run along his bare back. He sucked in the breath Ianto shot out as Owen caressed the Welsh man's backside. Next to him, Jack could see John tenderly undressing Andy, running his fingers along the officers turgid cock.
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Rhys, PC Andy, Captain John, Owen
Rating: NC-17 (NSFL - Not Safe For Libraries)
Spoilers: Slight mention of Day 4, not much bearing on this story though.
Disclaimers: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, they belong to the BBC and RTD. Any original characters and places are my property.
Summary: Sometimes the muses prefer to argue than do what they are told to by the writer.
Author's Notes: My muses had abandoned me, and I turned to the boys of Torchwood to get them jumpstarted again. Thank you boys! *grin*
The Writer Speaks!
The clacking of fingers striking the keyboard with deliberate passion resonated in the small room. Except for two pillar candles, the only light in the room came from the glow of the computer screen. She let out a contented sigh as ideas wrote themselves across the screen.
Jack arched his back as he brought his hand around, cupping Ianto’s bare ass. Working his hand into the Welshman’s hair, Jack pulled Ianto in tight and proceeded to passionately kiss the younger man, his lips crushing Ianto’s as he growled into the other man’s mouth. Ianto continued to tease Jack’s cock, tiptoeing his fingertips up and down its length.
“God, Ianto, fuck me now,” Jack hoarsely whispered in the man’s ear.
“Say please,” Ianto stated, gripping Jack’s hard. As he smiled at the older man, he could feel Jack’s cock twitch and harden.
“Oh come on,” a voice scoffed behind her right ear. “He would so not make him say please.”
The writer groaned and dropped forward, gently slamming her head against the glass monitor. She reached for the mouse, finding it and clicking on the iTunes application, turning it on full blast to “The Devils Skirt,” trying to drown out her commentator. She sat back up and, without even giving the voice a glance, continued to write.
“Oh, Ianto, anything,” Jack replied. “Please, please fuck me,” Jack said as he gave Ianto’s ass a smack, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Ianto’s lips thinned as he glowered at Jack. “Whatever you wish,” he said as he kneeled next to him. Ianto put a hand on Jack’s hip and roughly flipped Jack over onto his stomach. Ianto then straddled Jack, grabbing his ass.
“I highly doubt that,” a heavier voice said from behind her left ear.
She let out a grunt and dropped her head, burying her chin in her chest. “Now what?”
“Jack wouldn’t flip over that easily, especially if he hasn’t laid off the pastries in a couple of days,” the voice behind her left ear said.
“Oi! You saying I’m fat?” The voice behind her right ear seemed offended.
“Think what you will, Sir.” She could hear the smile in the voice behind her left ear.
Resisting the urge to smash her head through the computer monitor, the writer slowly turned around in her office chair. The two men just glared at each other from either side of her.
“What is your problem, Ianto?” Jack asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Do I have a problem?” Ianto put his hands on his hips, looking at the ceiling, at the floor, but not at Jack.
“Hey! I thought I had you two naked,” the writer interjected taking in Ianto in his full grey pinstriped suit and waistcoat, while Jack wore the whole blue shirt, blue pants and braces ensemble.
“Ask him,” Jack said. “I have no problem with being naked.”
“We know,” Ianto tersely said.
“So what’s the problem?” Jack asked.
“You get to live forever, some of us do not,” Ianto coldly said, finally looking Jack in the eyes.
“This is bothering you now,” Jack stated. His features suddenly softened and he walked over, enveloping Ianto in a hug. “What happened?”
“I saw her on the internet earlier, and I saw…” Ianto looked up at Jack, his blue eyes glistening.
The writer quickly covered her mouth in shock. “Oh no, Day 4,” she said. “Well, you can’t be that surprised, you did work for Torchwood - twice.”
“I know, it’s just-,” Ianto looked at Jack and took a breath. “Sorry, it just took me by surprise,” Ianto stated. “Now where were we?” Ianto brought his hands up to Jack’s neck and pulled him in close, kissing him on the lips.
The writer smiled and turned back to her computer.
Ianto straddled Jack’s backside, pinching his ass. He then began to spread Jack’s-
“Um, listen,” Jack said in her right ear.
“What?” the writer snapped at him, feeling frustrated.
“Ianto’s had a bad month, do you think you could spice it up for him, for us?” She could feel Jack’s blue eyes boring into the back of her head. “I’ll let you see another one of my memories of the lesbians if you do,” Jack nearly purred the sentence out.
“What lesbians?”
“Alice and Emily. I’ll let you see our threesome for your next story,” Jack said.
The writer bit her lower lip considering the carrot that was dangled in front of her. Readers might get a kick out of Victorian threesome in Torchwood. She shook her head and began to type again.
Ianto started to spread open Jack’s ass cheeks when Rhys walked out of the bathroom, only a towel wrapped around him.
“Hey thanks mates, I needed that. Whatever that thing was that slimed us, it was foul,” Rhys said as he finished drying off his hair. He looked up at Jack and Ianto. “Hey mates, mind if I join in?”
“Oh come on! No way! I refuse!” Rhys glared down at her from next to the computer. “No, mate, I don’t swing that way!”
“But it’s Torchwood, everyone does everyone, at least once, even Gwen made out with Carys,” the writer defended herself.
“And if you believed everything in Torchwood then all of Cardiff would be bi,” Rhys retorted. “Bloody hell, make it all of the UK. Everyone everywhere in the United Kingdom snogs anything that can even crawl.” Rhys tugged down on his rugby jersey. “And what the hell did Gwen do?”
“Snogged a woman who was possessed by an alien on her first day of work,” Ianto filled in.
“Bastard Torchwood. Bloody bastard Torchwood,” Rhys spat out, pointing a finger at Jack.
“Hey, hey now,” Jack said, holding up his hands in supplication. “We were all surprised when we saw her doing that. You need to talk to your wife, not me.”
“When you all saw her? You were watching!” Rhys strode over to Jack, punching his index finger into Jack’s chest. “You were watching her make out with a bloody woman!”
“Yeah,” Jack drawled out, a smile spreading across his face.
“OI!” Rhys clenched his fists at his side, struggling to not punch out Jack.
Ianto rolled his eyes and sat down on the computer desk next to the writer. The writer dropped her head into her arms, resting her elbows on her knees. This is not what she had planned on. Just a little smut for her readers and now Rhys and Jack were ready to start throwing punches - well, at least Rhys was. Actually, this was getting to be quite homoerotic…
“You two,” the writer sternly said, glaring at both Rhys and Jack, “will stop it right now. Otherwise the next thing I write will be Rhys fucking Jack, and Jack getting pregnant with their baby!”
“Intriguing,” Ianto replied.
“How is that possible?” Rhys asked.
Jack just got a big grin on his face until Ianto stood up and cleared his throat rather loudly. The writer began to giggle, just a bit at first, and then started laughing rather loudly.
“Now what?” Rhys wondered.
“Sorry, sorry,” the writer stammered out. “I was just imagining Gwen’s reaction to that bit of news.”
“Oh bloody hell,” Rhys muttered.
Ianto slid off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat. “Let’s allow her to finish this and just get it over with?” Ianto sat back down on the corner of her computer desk and patted the computer monitor.
The writer swiveled around in her chair and before she could begin typing, she heard a soft cough next to her right ear. She turned her head and stared into Rhys’ brown eyes.
“Um, listen, you don’t suppose you could send someone in there for me? Someone to rescue me?” Rhys nearly gave her puppy dog eyes.
The writer thought about it a moment and then a smile reached across her face and she shook her head yes. “Sure,” she said and hunched over the computer, typing away.
“Hey mates, mind if I join in?”
"Save me," Rhys growled in her ear, which made the writer shudder in a good way.
"Hold your piece and wait a minute, sheesh!" The writer let out a sigh and began to type again.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door and before either man could respond, the door was slammed open and PC Andy strode in, billy club in hand.
"All right- Bloody hell!" Andy dropped the billy club to his side. "We had reports of a disturbance in the building and Mrs. Giles, the old lady downstairs reported seeing a body bag drug up here. And what do I find? You lot!"
"The body bag is in the lounge, you passed it on your way in," Ianto replied, his fingers playing along Jack's crack.
"Yeah, but trust me," Rhys said putting a hand on Andy's arm. "It's not pretty, it's one of those alien things they go around with and apparently snog all the time."
"Hey! I don’t snog every alien," Jack replied as he humped ass back towards Ianto. Ianto smacked it soundly.
Andy turned to them and raised an eyebrow. "So, um, having fun there?"
"Why don’t you join us," Jack intoned, his voice rising as Ianto plunged two lubed up fingers into Jack's hole.
"Well, if it helps getting involved in Torchwood," Andy said as he stripped off his uniform jacket and shirt.
Rhys turned and looked at Andy's solid chest, with it's baby soft hairs and licked his lips--
"OI!"
Two voices screamed, one in either ear of the writer. She slightly jumped in her seat, blinking her eyes at the intensity of the shout. Swiveling around she faced two stormy Welsh faces glaring at her.
"I said help!" Rhys huffed at her.
"No, I don’t swing that way, especially with tubby here," Andy replied.
"Excuse me? Tubby?" Rhys turned his glare to Andy. "Idiot."
"You know, I'm finding this very homoerotic," Jack muttered to Ianto.
"Bloody hell," Andy stated, staring at Jack and Ianto. "Is this all you do in Torchwood? Fuck each other?"
"And hunt aliens," Ianto stated. "It’s what we do."
With the four men distracted by each other the writer hurriedly turned back to the computer and began to type away furiously.
Andy shot Rhys a look of longing and put his hands on the younger man's shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. The two men locked lips as Jack looked on. Jack was quickly distracted as Ianto eased his throbbing cock into the older man's waiting hole.
Suddenly a bright light filled the room and a man in a red Napoleanic coat stood before them, a leer on his face. Lowering his left arm he grinned at the foursome. "Forgot to call me for the party?" The man was naked before anyone could say Abergavenny. He smirked at their looks of shock. "A little trick I learned from buddy boy over there," he said, smiling at Jack.
"NO! No! No way," Jack said rather loudly, making the writer wince.
"Aw come on, why do you get to have all the eyecandy?"
The writer and the four men all turned in unison to the back of the living room and gaped as Captain John Hart stood there shirtless. He sauntered over to the group, ogling Andy, then Rhys and finally licking his lips as he looked at Ianto. Ianto rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall.
Jack bore down on the writer. "That is it! I promised I would help be your muse, but come on!"
"Awww, Jacky-boy, when was the last time you said no to an orgy. Never if I remember correctly." John put his hand on his hips.
"It's been a real long time since I was with you," Jack nearly spat out.
"You fucked him too?" Rhys gaped at Jack and John. "What haven't you stuck your cock into?"
Jack started to think but was cut off by Ianto stepping in front of him. "If we just do it and get it done with-"
"Absolutely not Ianto, I am not letting him anywhere near you," Jack tersely stated.
"Little Jackie doesn't want to share his toys?" John made a pouty face and then strode up to the writer, crouching in front of her, giving her a full view of his tight, hard chest. He began to run his hand across it. "Listen, how about being a love and adding in some bondage? Some handcuffs, some toys, a nipple clamp or two?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Andy interjected.
"Oh, I see you already have the handcuffs," John said standing up and walking over to Andy. John reached down and cupped Andy's cock through his trousers.
"OI!" Andy reached back and punched John.
John grinned, cradling his chin. "See, he knows I like it rough."
Jack turned on the writer. "You cannot seriously let this happen."
"What can I do? The readers like multiples," the writer replied, shrugging.
"Uh yeah, excuse me," another voice chimed in from the doorway to the living room. "Am I in this or am I supposedly dead already?"
Owen stepped into the room, hands in the pockets of his jeans. "It's been a while since I had a good sex scene," Owen said.
"Since when are you into blokes?" I thought you liked Tosh," Rhys stated.
"You knew?"
"Owen, everyone knew except maybe you," Jack said.
"You didn’t answer my question," Rhys said.
"First episode he snogged a man and took the guy and the guy's girlfriend back to his place," the writer chimed in.
Jack leered at Owen. Ianto rolled his eyes and Andy and Rhys looked at him amazed. John walked over and put an arm around Owen's shoulders.
"What a team you have here husband," John snapped at Jack.
Jack let out a sigh. "Fine, just get this over with."
The writer looked from guy to guy, none too pleased with the outcome. She shrugged her shoulders and slowly started turning her chair back to the computer.
"Um, can you at least cut the purple prose and just write the good action. Any romance novelist worth their weight in gold does not do so much purple prose as that. I mean come on, I have read tons better than that," Andy stated.
"I'm a little off today," the writer conceded.
"Wait, when do you read romance novels," Rhys quickly asked.
The writer and the other men turned on Andy. Andy suddenly looked chagrined and stepped back.
"I heard some, I heard some of the women in the precinct mention them."
"Uh-huh, sure," Rhys said trying not to giggle.
The writer cleared her throat. "Ahem, gentlemen. If you want good sex that will leave none of your asses hurting," she turned to Jack's whimper, "unless you want them too, then I need some inspiration."
Each man looked from one to the other and she could see a look of resolve on Rhys and Ianto's faces. John looked delighted while Jack flashed the Harkness grin. Owen cocked his head and stood forward while Andy let out sigh and stood up straight. The writer clapped her hands and had six gorgeous British men stark naked before her, all their assets proudly at attention.
"This I can work with," she said savoring the moment. With a contented sigh she turned back to the computer.
Jack pulled Ianto in to him, relishing the scent of the younger man. He nipped at Ianto's lower lip and then kissed him deeply. Ianto kissed back. Behind him he could feel Rhys' strong, yet soft hands run along his bare back. He sucked in the breath Ianto shot out as Owen caressed the Welsh man's backside. Next to him, Jack could see John tenderly undressing Andy, running his fingers along the officers turgid cock.