The Most Wonderful Thing of All 1/2
Title: The Most Wonderful Thing of All
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, and Captain John Hart.
Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Ianto/Captain John Hart, implied Jack/Gwen
Rating: R to NC-17 for sexual themes, strong language, and a spot of violence
Words: 8,600
Genre: Angst, Character Study
Summary: There is only so much from Jack that Ianto can take.
Warnings: Spoilers through series one and KKBB. Sex, swearing, violence and partner betrayal, just like Torchwood.
Disclaimers: Torchwood and the characters aren't mine. Also: If you see any errors in this story, please point it out. Enjoy.
Notes: Partly inspired by A Doll’s House by Henrik Ibsen. If you’ve read it, then you probably know how this story ends.
---
Ianto is neither blind nor naïve enough to believe that he is the only one for Jack. He sees the way Jack flirts with anything that walks on two legs, he sees how women and men alike throw themselves at the Captain wherever he dons his “come hither” stance and his charming smile.
But even more so, Ianto sees that that Jack is in love with Gwen. And maybe Jack does have more than enough love for two people, but that does not stop Ianto from suspecting that, should the choice come down to him and Gwen, Jack would always choose her.
Ianto prides himself in his observation skills and his ability to blend into the background, but he needs neither to see the subtext in the way Jack and Gwen interact: so obviously in something with each other that even Owen is starting to notice. Sometimes Ianto wonders why he bothers to blend in at all, because it’s not like Jack notices him when Gwen is in the room anyway.
Yet in spite of Jack’s rather blatant infidelity, Ianto comes back to him every time. Jack has never promised him anything, so Ianto never lingers over what Jack says or does, never wonders if Jack loves him, and never daydreams about how Jack would promise to be his one and only, because - for crying out loud - Ianto is not delusional. He takes what he can get and prays that it’s enough, and he’s just lucky that, more often than not, it is.
But there are times when it isn’t, moments where he misses Lisa so suddenly and so fiercely that he feels the beginning of a panic attack like the ones hasn’t had since Canary Wharf. He misses Lisa’s unconditional love and the soft curves of her body; her soft laughter and soothing hands, the way she gripped around him and the breathy little moans she made as he pushed into her.
Jack hasn’t asked about Lisa once since they’ve begun fucking, so Ianto makes it a personal mission to never let Jack catch him missing her.
I’m not just a part-time shag. Ianto tells himself every time he strips down in front of Jack’s anticipating gaze. I’m much more than that.
---
It’s another morning where Ianto shows up to work hours before anyone else, barring Jack who actually lives there.
Jack approaches him in what he must think as a quiet manner, but even over the liquid gurgle of the coffee machine, Ianto could hear the approaching steps.
“Hello sir,” he greets.
“Aw, Ianto, stop ruining my fun.”
“Well, sir, if that’s what you do for fun, then might I suggest new hobbies for you?” Ianto deadpans, but his lips twitch in a smile as he turns to face Jack, “Maybe hockey, or darts. I seem to remember you enjoying both of those.”
“But they’re no fun alone,” Jack pouts a little, then grins charmingly, “so how about you join me for a game?”
“Now sir?”
“Why not? We’ve still got few hours before the others show up, and I’ve been up half the night waiting for you to come.”
“You don’t sleep, sir.”
“That’s a common misconception. And drop the ‘sir’, won’t you? Work hasn’t started yet.”
“Yes-” Ianto catches himself, “So will it be hockey or darts?”
Jack shrugs, smirking nonchalantly, “It’s all the same to me.”
“Very well then,” Ianto smiles, “just let me get the...equipment.”
“Oh, let that be a euphemism Ianto, please.”
“Only if you wish it, sir. Don’t get too impatient when I’m gone.”
Jack let out a bark of laughter, “Only if you don’t take too long.”
So this explains how, fifteen minutes later, Jack is multitasking by tearing Ianto’s suit off with impatient hands while sucking on the tip of the other man’s tongue and, shivering slightly, Ianto trails his hands over Jack’s shoulders, slipping off the elastic braces.
After a few moments of fumbling with small shirt buttons, they reluctantly part, trying to calm their shaking hands, and if a few buttons are sacrificed in their passion, neither of them notices, too absorbed in each other and the task of undressing as quickly as they can.
Ianto winces as Jack discards his remaining patience and tugs the last button from the shirt, which flies halfway across the room to land with a distinct clatter on the ground, but the return of Jack’s warm hands trailing over his stomach makes it all worth it. Eyes fluttering shut from the brushing strokes, Ianto lets out a small sigh of pleasure.
“God,” Jack mutters as their newly-bared chests press together, their wide mouths sealed in a hungry kiss, “Ianto.”
“Yea-,” Ianto pants into Jack’s mouth, breaking off into a grunt at the feel of Jack’s hands moving lower and cupping his erection through the dress pants. “Just…”
“Working on it,” comes the growl, and Ianto feels the effects soon after as his pants and boxers are pushed roughly down his hips, a warm hand finding its way around his cock and gripping it tightly in a series of long, firm jerks.
“F-faster-” Ianto breathes into the short space between them, not caring if it sounds like begging because Ianto is too far gone to care now. And lucky for him, Jack obliges, his hand moving in a blur on Ianto’s dick, stripping it quickly but gently twisting on the upstrokes for variety. Occasionally, Jack’s thumb would sweep over the swollen head, collecting the precome there to lubricate the shaft, leaving Ianto gasping from the sharp sensations blooming in his body.
Shaking from the overwhelming stimulus, it takes Ianto’s full effort to keep his knees from buckling. He is so close, and Jack seems to sense it, slowing down the strokes until he takes away his hand completely.
Letting out whimpers of desperation, Ianto opens his clenched eyes, his hips still snapping forward for the tight grip that is no longer there. What-where-? A little disoriented, his hand automatically seeks out and seizes Jack’s wrist.
“Sir, Jack, I-”
“Shh, it’s fine, Ianto, just give me a moment,” and Ianto jerks in surprise when Jack pushes his bare groin against his, crisp hair and hard lengths finally meeting, but not creating the friction that Ianto desperately needs.
“Wait, maybe we should-” he suggests, and finally frees his hand from Jack’s wrist to curl around both their cocks, lining them together and pumping them both in a smooth rhythm. It’s not long before Jack’s hand also joins his, gripping around Ianto’s fingers and bringing them both to completion, one after the other.
Afterwards, when their breaths slowed from the quick, desperate gasps, Ianto tentatively opens his eyes to Jack’s closed ones, and he could see the way Jack’s delicate eyelashes cast tawny shadows on his cheekbones. He fights off the sudden desire to kiss him, because they’ve only kissed as foreplay but never after sex, and Ianto doesn’t want to be the one breaking the rules, even if he’s not sure whether those rules actually exist.
Looking down, Ianto lets out a small laugh. Miracles of miracles, they’re both still upright, albeit in a leaning-on-the-closest-stable-surface kind of way. Below his waist, Ianto’s over-stimulated cock protests against the grip Jack still has them in, and so Ianto takes a step back to break the contact.
Jack opens his eyes and looks at him then. “Tired of me already, Ianto?”
“Of course not, sir, never you.”
“Good, because we’re going to be working together for a long time.”
When the rest of the team arrives, they see nothing out of the ordinary. Ianto is making the coffee and Jack is flipping through notes for their latest case.
“Hey Jack,” Gwen greets in her habitual cheery manner, “how’s your morning been?”
“Better now that you’re here.” With a laugh and a wink, the patented Harkness charm is back in full force.
---
One thing Ianto’s noticed about Jack is his possessiveness. To the captain, everything is his: his Torchwood, his timeline, his headquarters, his team, his people, and Ianto never cares enough to tell him that people don’t own other people anymore.
(Except that’s not true, if the team’s utter devotion to their fearless leader is by any means an indication.)
Ianto supposes that Jack’s possessiveness could be useful. After all, none of the team has died yet (at least, no one who actually matters to Jack,) since apparently, even Death is scare shitless of him. Ianto imagines that Jack’s inability to die is just a very big “fuck you very much” from the iconic Grim Reaper.
---
Warm hands creep under his dress shirt to tweak his nipples, and Ianto moans because they’ve always been very sensitive.
“You like that, eye candy?”
Ianto forces himself to not flinch at the unfamiliar baritone in his ear. Captain John Hart is not his first choice, but he’s available and willing and is not afraid to encroach on Jack’s territory. Ianto could feel the buttons of the Captain’s jacket digging uncomfortably into his back as he is sandwiched against the wall. But Ianto doesn’t mind. If he had wanted comfortable, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.
“My name is Ianto. Not eye candy.” He growls back, but yelps as Captain John viciously pinches his right nipple.
“No, but I will call you ‘eye candy’ because that is what you are to me,” Ianto could feel a smirk against the back of his ear, “and to Jack as well.”
Angered, Ianto grabs the other man’s hands and tugs them out from under his shirt, pushing away from the wall in the same breath. He tries to distance himself from the captain, to shake off the other’s cloying presence, but his chest and nipples still tingle from where he’d been touched.
Taking a few breaths, Ianto calmly redoes his tie with slightly trembling fingers as Captain John watches him, chuckling.
“Why? Did he fool you into thinking you are more than just that?”
Ianto walks away without looking back, but when he turns to shut off the lights in the underground archives, the room is empty.
---
When Ianto comes up from the archives, he sidetracks to the kitchen where he fills up clean mugs with fresh coffee and plates with butter tarts for the team before he makes his way into the main hub.
When he walks in, the team is still working on their latest case, with Tosh hacking into private security footages and Owen dissecting the victim, this time a green-tinged adolescent boy missing chunks of his body. Tosh smiles and thanks Ianto when he hands her the coffee and the pastries, while Owen tells him to put it on his desk for later.
Ianto nods, peering down at the body, and thinks that he might know where to get a normal-looking corpse resembling it.
Having finished half of his deliveries, he goes to look for Gwen and finds her chatting with Jack. They break off their conversation when Ianto comes in.
“Hello Ianto, thanks.” Gwen says graciously when Ianto hands her a mug.
Jack gives him a blinding smile, “Hey, Ianto, where’ve you been?”
“Making coffee, sir, and doing some paperwork.” Ianto smiles back blandly, the half-lie slipping easily off his tongue.
Jack takes a bite of the butter tart and grins as the sweet flaky pastry melts in his mouth, “Thanks Yan, I like this.”
“I know sir.” Ianto says, “If there’s anything else you’d like? Otherwise I’d best be heading back to the requisition forms.”
Gwen shakes her head “No, I’m fine, thanks.” Jack nods in agreement.
As the rolling door of the hub closes behind him, Ianto could hear a burst of laughter from Jack’s office. He’s not surprised that they don’t notice. After all, what could be more normal than Ianto Jones doing paperwork and serving coffee?
---
“See, what I’m thinking is,” Captain John says conversationally the next time he pops up in the archives at the end of the day, “You want Jack, but only gets part of him. I want Jack, but I don’t get him at all. So maybe we should do something about it.”
Ianto rolls his eyes at him, “So, what is it, you’re going to kill Gwen and then me so that Jack will bounce right back into your arms?”
“No, I’m just saying that we can help each other.”
“Somehow I have trouble believing the part where we help each other. You’ve never struck me as the helpful type.” Ianto says stoically, fingers paused on the folders.
“That’s because you haven’t known me for long enough, considering the way Jack bundled most of you away from me during my last visit. And anyways,” he continues before Ianto could retort with more sarcasm, “I think we would work well together. I, for one, am very talented at what I do.”
“Right, yes. Because you have done such a good job of seducing Jack so far.”
“Well, five years together and he’s learnt to not fall for most of my tricks.”
“Mmhmm, okay.” Ianto shrugs indifferently and slips a file between Jamison, Edward and Janet the Weevil.
Captain John abandons his spot in the shadows and comes to lean on the filing cabinet beside Ianto’s. “Jealous, are we?”
“No. I’m just not interested in hearing about other peoples’ exes. They get too hung up on the topic to realize that people just don’t really care.” Slap-slap-slap goes the file folders as Ianto flicks through them in an even rhythm.
“But Jack is special, isn’t he? I remember when we did it non-stop for an entire three days. By the end we could barely walk. Have you-?”
The end of the question is drowned out by the snap of a filing cabinet closing. “What do you want?” Ianto says, glaring at the other man.
“Your loving company.” Captain John smiles blithely.
“Right. So you could remind me of Jack over and over again while we’re shagging. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”
“I remember you enjoying it up to that point.”
“It was just reflex. Stimulus-response, nothing complicated.”
“So would you do it if I promise to never bring up Jack when we’re together?”
Ianto hesitates.
“The rules are still the same as last time: no flowers, no chocolates, no strings attached and all that jazz.” Captain John smirks, still leaning on the cabinet, “Unless you want to talk about feelings.”
“Fine,” Ianto nods his consent, “but no mentioning Jack. Ever.”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
---
“Tosh!” Ianto smiles, getting up from her chair, “I brought you the files you needed.”
“Oh. Thanks Ianto.” Tosh smiles back. Ianto sees the appeal in her, even if some other men don’t. They’re very much alike, Ianto muses, and would be good together if he didn’t love her like a sister.
“You see anything interesting?” Tosh tilts her chin towards the screens surrounding her station.
“Well, there’s Owen. But I suppose that’s a matter of taste.” Ianto teases, pointing to the screen showing the autopsy room.
A blush creeps up Tosh’s features, leaving her stammering a little. Smiling indulgently, Ianto offers her the vacant chair.
It’s not like he needs it anymore; his job is done. A continuous loop of the underground archives now runs from the security camera down there, and it’s likely that no one will ever notice the changes anyway. It doesn’t hurt either that the archives is the on the CCTV channel of the lowest priority.
“Are you coming to the pool tournament tonight?” Tosh asks as Ianto is leaving.
“Um, sure.” Ianto shrugs, “Anyone else going?”
Tosh’s sigh tells Ianto all he needs to know, “I asked Owen, but he said he’s busy.”
“How about Jack and Gwen?”
“Actually, I haven’t had a chance to ask them yet. They’re still talking about management issues during Jack’s AWOL months.”
Ianto looks up towards Jack’s office, and through the clear panes of glass he could see Gwen perching on Jack’s desk, leaning close to him, and explaining something on the sheet they are examining. Jack is sitting back in his chair, relaxed, and it would look like any other office scene if not for the way Jack is smiling softly, fondly at her, roving his eyes over every part of her body.
And Gwen’s not oblivious to the attention either, if the way she curves her neck and crosses her legs are by any means indicators.
“Ah.” Ianto nods, “Best not disturb them then.”
---
So it becomes a sort of arrangement between the two. Ianto would wander down to the archives to file the reports of the day or to find reference notes for a case they are investigating, and once every while Captain John Hart would show up for a wild rutting session between them.
“It’s not rutting.” Captain John tells him once. “You make it sound so crude.”
“But it’s perfect to describe what we’re doing,” Ianto counters, “unless you want to call it ‘love making.’” And despite having three of the captain’s fingers pressing against his prostate, Ianto manages to get enough motor function to make feeble quotation marks with his fingers.
Captain John responds by slapping Ianto’s bare ass and pushing into him, bottoming out in a single thrust, and for the next ten minutes, Ianto has no motor functions whatsoever.
But even if Captain John is an asshole, Ianto admits that he does take care of his partners well. He always makes sure that Ianto comes first before following soon after - longer if they forgo what little foreplay they have. And since Captain John doesn’t quite believe in contraceptives, he always pulls out soft, spotless, white handkerchiefs out of his jacket afterwards for cleaning themselves.
(“You’re not secretly a woman, are you?” he asked Ianto when he brought up the subject of condoms once, and they scowled at each other at an impasse for ten minutes before Captain John left to come back in a few minutes with a proof of health, signed by some doctor in London, dated three days ago.
“I’m clean, and you probably are too, the way you’re living. You’d put the Virgin Mary to shame if it isn’t for me. So we shag now, okay?”)
Ianto always goes right back to work after, and he never asks what Captain John does while he’s not at Torchwood.
---
Ianto is resting on the couch during his lunch break when he feels a depression beside him. Opening his eyes, he catches Gwen looking at him.
“How are you today, Ianto?”
“Never been better.” He smiles at her. Ianto always smiles at her, because he finds it kind of difficult to dislike her even if she’s…
Actually, Ianto is not quite sure what Gwen is to him, other than “team mate” and “colleague.” Competitor, maybe? But it’s not even a competition for her, since she has no idea that Jack is taken.
And come to think of it, Jack is not really “taken” either, at least not by Ianto, since their relationship is, by silent agreement, very casual. But sometimes there are these hints and…it’s all very complicated and Ianto doesn’t really want to think about it right now.
“We haven’t talked in so long, it feels.” Gwen says.
“I know what you mean. I get tired just thinking about all the meetings you have with Jack.”
“Ugh,” she groans softly, “let’s not talk about that. You wouldn’t believe it looking at him, but Jack is the boss from hell. He’s lived hundreds of years and will live a billion more, so of course he has the time to look over every single teensy wincey detail. But the rest of us, we have lives outside of work, for Christ’s sake.”
“Actually,” Ianto cocks his head to the side, “I think you’re the only one who does. Tosh spends her nights alone and Owen goes to bars, gets drunk, picks fights, and has one night stands.”
“What do you do after work then?”
“I clean up all your messes.”
“Oh. Ianto, I-”
“No need to apologise. It’s part of my job description.”
“But I still, I mean, every night-”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t much else to do anyways.”
“Don’t you get lonely sometimes? I mean, after Lisa…oh, sorry.” Gwen pulls off sympathy very well, Ianto thinks, watching her panicked features, “I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine.” Ianto smiles and tries to calm his heart, which has begun pounding the moment Lisa’s name left Gwen’s lips. It’s all very Pavlovian, but Ianto has learnt to live with it. “If you really feel sorry for me, then maybe pick up after yourself a bit more. That way I can get more sleep at night, all right?”
The relief on Gwen’s face is as genuine as her sincerity, and she nods emphatically before freezing, looking at a point over Ianto’s shoulder.
Ianto turns his head and sees Jack climbing the stairs.
“Okay, Ianto,” Gwen whispers, giving him a quick hug before running off, “got to go before Jack makes me go over the accounting with him again.”
Jack sits down on the other side of Ianto when he gets there.
“Where’s Gwen?” Jack asks, looking around the Hub.
Ianto shrugs, “Dunno, haven’t seen her since the second cup of coffee.”
Jack nods slowly, “Okay…so, you doing all right?”
“Of course sir, never better.”
“You always say that.”
“Because I always am, sir.”
“Right. I wonder how much better can you keep feeling before you reach a limit?”
“Maybe it’s asymptotic.” Ianto suggests. “Always approaching but never reaching that superlative state.”
“Not even if I tried really hard?” Jack smirks suggestively.
“Well any-anything is possible if you try. If you have the time and the effort.” Ianto stutters.
“We have half an hour before the team comes back, don’t we?”
“Could we? I mean, it’s a very short time-”
“You forget.” Jack says, leaning in to nip at Ianto’s jaw line, “I’m Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood leader extraordinaire. I make the impossible possible.”
---
Ianto notices that it’s never busy when Captain John Hart shows up. There’s never been an oh-my-lord-we’re-going-to-die-if-we-can’t-find-a-solution moment when Ianto finds him in the archives. It makes him wonder if the captain is watching Torchwood - and him.
“Of course not,” Captain John says defensively when Ianto makes a passing comment about it, “just luck. And sometimes I pop in when you’re not here and leave.”
“But you never show up when I’m here and it’s busy. You know, probability wise, that’s very improbable.” Ianto blows on the other man’s cock a little to see it give an extremely interested twitch, becoming even harder in anticipation of what will follow.
Teasingly licking a clear drop of precome from the dark red crown, Ianto could feel the other man’s frustration at how slow they are going, partly from the way the hands on the back of his head are trying to press Ianto’s mouth closer to, onto, his cock. But Ianto is strong too, and he forcefully pushes the Captain’s hips down and shakes off the hands, going again at a torturous pace.
“Okay, fine,” Captain John says, huffing slightly at his unrewarded efforts, “If I say that I sometimes watch you to see if you’re busy, will you hurry up and suck me properly with those pretty lips of yours?”
Ianto smiles up at him briefly like a cat that got the canary, and begins inching down the shaft after lavishing attention on the tip.
“Yes.” Groans the captain. “Hell yes. Like that, eye candy.” And the stamina he is always boasting of is gone out the window as Ianto swallows him down fully, his tongue dancing a wicked pattern on the underside of his cock. Within a few thrusts, he came, shuddering down Ianto’s throat.
When he finally came to, Ianto was looking at him expectantly.
“And this is the part where you return the favour.”
“Okay.” The captain says, still a little out of it.
“Honestly, I’m beginning to think that the three days of non-stop shagging with Jack is simply a story you made up to-”
An uncomfortable silence follows.
“Do you still want me to-” Captain John offers offhandedly, breaking the awkward tension.
“Oh no. I’m, I’m fine now.” Ianto feels slightly sick, “I have to go now, the others are expecting me.”
“Okay.”
And this time, it’s Ianto who leaves first.
---
In hindsight, having sex with Jack that day wasn’t such a good idea. Gwen found out, obviously, because Jack couldn’t possibly have expected Ianto to keep quiet when he was doing that to him with his tongue, right?
And it was undeniably awkward for a few weeks. Tosh noticed, Owen didn’t, because he’s like that.
Gwen’s keeping it a secret at Jack’s request, but there’s a tension between the two that Ianto has never seen before.
As for him and Gwen? Well, Ianto doesn’t know where they stand now, considering that they haven’t talked since that day on the couch.
Except now she knows about him and Jack, doesn’t she? Ianto wonders. So would that make her a competitor?
Ianto thinks he’s got the answer when, one day, Jack and Gwen are laughing and chatting again like before. He doesn’t want to know what the two did to resolve their tension.
---
Part 2
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, and Captain John Hart.
Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Ianto/Captain John Hart, implied Jack/Gwen
Rating: R to NC-17 for sexual themes, strong language, and a spot of violence
Words: 8,600
Genre: Angst, Character Study
Summary: There is only so much from Jack that Ianto can take.
Warnings: Spoilers through series one and KKBB. Sex, swearing, violence and partner betrayal, just like Torchwood.
Disclaimers: Torchwood and the characters aren't mine. Also: If you see any errors in this story, please point it out. Enjoy.
Notes: Partly inspired by A Doll’s House by Henrik Ibsen. If you’ve read it, then you probably know how this story ends.
---
Ianto is neither blind nor naïve enough to believe that he is the only one for Jack. He sees the way Jack flirts with anything that walks on two legs, he sees how women and men alike throw themselves at the Captain wherever he dons his “come hither” stance and his charming smile.
But even more so, Ianto sees that that Jack is in love with Gwen. And maybe Jack does have more than enough love for two people, but that does not stop Ianto from suspecting that, should the choice come down to him and Gwen, Jack would always choose her.
Ianto prides himself in his observation skills and his ability to blend into the background, but he needs neither to see the subtext in the way Jack and Gwen interact: so obviously in something with each other that even Owen is starting to notice. Sometimes Ianto wonders why he bothers to blend in at all, because it’s not like Jack notices him when Gwen is in the room anyway.
Yet in spite of Jack’s rather blatant infidelity, Ianto comes back to him every time. Jack has never promised him anything, so Ianto never lingers over what Jack says or does, never wonders if Jack loves him, and never daydreams about how Jack would promise to be his one and only, because - for crying out loud - Ianto is not delusional. He takes what he can get and prays that it’s enough, and he’s just lucky that, more often than not, it is.
But there are times when it isn’t, moments where he misses Lisa so suddenly and so fiercely that he feels the beginning of a panic attack like the ones hasn’t had since Canary Wharf. He misses Lisa’s unconditional love and the soft curves of her body; her soft laughter and soothing hands, the way she gripped around him and the breathy little moans she made as he pushed into her.
Jack hasn’t asked about Lisa once since they’ve begun fucking, so Ianto makes it a personal mission to never let Jack catch him missing her.
I’m not just a part-time shag. Ianto tells himself every time he strips down in front of Jack’s anticipating gaze. I’m much more than that.
---
It’s another morning where Ianto shows up to work hours before anyone else, barring Jack who actually lives there.
Jack approaches him in what he must think as a quiet manner, but even over the liquid gurgle of the coffee machine, Ianto could hear the approaching steps.
“Hello sir,” he greets.
“Aw, Ianto, stop ruining my fun.”
“Well, sir, if that’s what you do for fun, then might I suggest new hobbies for you?” Ianto deadpans, but his lips twitch in a smile as he turns to face Jack, “Maybe hockey, or darts. I seem to remember you enjoying both of those.”
“But they’re no fun alone,” Jack pouts a little, then grins charmingly, “so how about you join me for a game?”
“Now sir?”
“Why not? We’ve still got few hours before the others show up, and I’ve been up half the night waiting for you to come.”
“You don’t sleep, sir.”
“That’s a common misconception. And drop the ‘sir’, won’t you? Work hasn’t started yet.”
“Yes-” Ianto catches himself, “So will it be hockey or darts?”
Jack shrugs, smirking nonchalantly, “It’s all the same to me.”
“Very well then,” Ianto smiles, “just let me get the...equipment.”
“Oh, let that be a euphemism Ianto, please.”
“Only if you wish it, sir. Don’t get too impatient when I’m gone.”
Jack let out a bark of laughter, “Only if you don’t take too long.”
So this explains how, fifteen minutes later, Jack is multitasking by tearing Ianto’s suit off with impatient hands while sucking on the tip of the other man’s tongue and, shivering slightly, Ianto trails his hands over Jack’s shoulders, slipping off the elastic braces.
After a few moments of fumbling with small shirt buttons, they reluctantly part, trying to calm their shaking hands, and if a few buttons are sacrificed in their passion, neither of them notices, too absorbed in each other and the task of undressing as quickly as they can.
Ianto winces as Jack discards his remaining patience and tugs the last button from the shirt, which flies halfway across the room to land with a distinct clatter on the ground, but the return of Jack’s warm hands trailing over his stomach makes it all worth it. Eyes fluttering shut from the brushing strokes, Ianto lets out a small sigh of pleasure.
“God,” Jack mutters as their newly-bared chests press together, their wide mouths sealed in a hungry kiss, “Ianto.”
“Yea-,” Ianto pants into Jack’s mouth, breaking off into a grunt at the feel of Jack’s hands moving lower and cupping his erection through the dress pants. “Just…”
“Working on it,” comes the growl, and Ianto feels the effects soon after as his pants and boxers are pushed roughly down his hips, a warm hand finding its way around his cock and gripping it tightly in a series of long, firm jerks.
“F-faster-” Ianto breathes into the short space between them, not caring if it sounds like begging because Ianto is too far gone to care now. And lucky for him, Jack obliges, his hand moving in a blur on Ianto’s dick, stripping it quickly but gently twisting on the upstrokes for variety. Occasionally, Jack’s thumb would sweep over the swollen head, collecting the precome there to lubricate the shaft, leaving Ianto gasping from the sharp sensations blooming in his body.
Shaking from the overwhelming stimulus, it takes Ianto’s full effort to keep his knees from buckling. He is so close, and Jack seems to sense it, slowing down the strokes until he takes away his hand completely.
Letting out whimpers of desperation, Ianto opens his clenched eyes, his hips still snapping forward for the tight grip that is no longer there. What-where-? A little disoriented, his hand automatically seeks out and seizes Jack’s wrist.
“Sir, Jack, I-”
“Shh, it’s fine, Ianto, just give me a moment,” and Ianto jerks in surprise when Jack pushes his bare groin against his, crisp hair and hard lengths finally meeting, but not creating the friction that Ianto desperately needs.
“Wait, maybe we should-” he suggests, and finally frees his hand from Jack’s wrist to curl around both their cocks, lining them together and pumping them both in a smooth rhythm. It’s not long before Jack’s hand also joins his, gripping around Ianto’s fingers and bringing them both to completion, one after the other.
Afterwards, when their breaths slowed from the quick, desperate gasps, Ianto tentatively opens his eyes to Jack’s closed ones, and he could see the way Jack’s delicate eyelashes cast tawny shadows on his cheekbones. He fights off the sudden desire to kiss him, because they’ve only kissed as foreplay but never after sex, and Ianto doesn’t want to be the one breaking the rules, even if he’s not sure whether those rules actually exist.
Looking down, Ianto lets out a small laugh. Miracles of miracles, they’re both still upright, albeit in a leaning-on-the-closest-stable-surface kind of way. Below his waist, Ianto’s over-stimulated cock protests against the grip Jack still has them in, and so Ianto takes a step back to break the contact.
Jack opens his eyes and looks at him then. “Tired of me already, Ianto?”
“Of course not, sir, never you.”
“Good, because we’re going to be working together for a long time.”
When the rest of the team arrives, they see nothing out of the ordinary. Ianto is making the coffee and Jack is flipping through notes for their latest case.
“Hey Jack,” Gwen greets in her habitual cheery manner, “how’s your morning been?”
“Better now that you’re here.” With a laugh and a wink, the patented Harkness charm is back in full force.
---
One thing Ianto’s noticed about Jack is his possessiveness. To the captain, everything is his: his Torchwood, his timeline, his headquarters, his team, his people, and Ianto never cares enough to tell him that people don’t own other people anymore.
(Except that’s not true, if the team’s utter devotion to their fearless leader is by any means an indication.)
Ianto supposes that Jack’s possessiveness could be useful. After all, none of the team has died yet (at least, no one who actually matters to Jack,) since apparently, even Death is scare shitless of him. Ianto imagines that Jack’s inability to die is just a very big “fuck you very much” from the iconic Grim Reaper.
---
Warm hands creep under his dress shirt to tweak his nipples, and Ianto moans because they’ve always been very sensitive.
“You like that, eye candy?”
Ianto forces himself to not flinch at the unfamiliar baritone in his ear. Captain John Hart is not his first choice, but he’s available and willing and is not afraid to encroach on Jack’s territory. Ianto could feel the buttons of the Captain’s jacket digging uncomfortably into his back as he is sandwiched against the wall. But Ianto doesn’t mind. If he had wanted comfortable, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.
“My name is Ianto. Not eye candy.” He growls back, but yelps as Captain John viciously pinches his right nipple.
“No, but I will call you ‘eye candy’ because that is what you are to me,” Ianto could feel a smirk against the back of his ear, “and to Jack as well.”
Angered, Ianto grabs the other man’s hands and tugs them out from under his shirt, pushing away from the wall in the same breath. He tries to distance himself from the captain, to shake off the other’s cloying presence, but his chest and nipples still tingle from where he’d been touched.
Taking a few breaths, Ianto calmly redoes his tie with slightly trembling fingers as Captain John watches him, chuckling.
“Why? Did he fool you into thinking you are more than just that?”
Ianto walks away without looking back, but when he turns to shut off the lights in the underground archives, the room is empty.
---
When Ianto comes up from the archives, he sidetracks to the kitchen where he fills up clean mugs with fresh coffee and plates with butter tarts for the team before he makes his way into the main hub.
When he walks in, the team is still working on their latest case, with Tosh hacking into private security footages and Owen dissecting the victim, this time a green-tinged adolescent boy missing chunks of his body. Tosh smiles and thanks Ianto when he hands her the coffee and the pastries, while Owen tells him to put it on his desk for later.
Ianto nods, peering down at the body, and thinks that he might know where to get a normal-looking corpse resembling it.
Having finished half of his deliveries, he goes to look for Gwen and finds her chatting with Jack. They break off their conversation when Ianto comes in.
“Hello Ianto, thanks.” Gwen says graciously when Ianto hands her a mug.
Jack gives him a blinding smile, “Hey, Ianto, where’ve you been?”
“Making coffee, sir, and doing some paperwork.” Ianto smiles back blandly, the half-lie slipping easily off his tongue.
Jack takes a bite of the butter tart and grins as the sweet flaky pastry melts in his mouth, “Thanks Yan, I like this.”
“I know sir.” Ianto says, “If there’s anything else you’d like? Otherwise I’d best be heading back to the requisition forms.”
Gwen shakes her head “No, I’m fine, thanks.” Jack nods in agreement.
As the rolling door of the hub closes behind him, Ianto could hear a burst of laughter from Jack’s office. He’s not surprised that they don’t notice. After all, what could be more normal than Ianto Jones doing paperwork and serving coffee?
---
“See, what I’m thinking is,” Captain John says conversationally the next time he pops up in the archives at the end of the day, “You want Jack, but only gets part of him. I want Jack, but I don’t get him at all. So maybe we should do something about it.”
Ianto rolls his eyes at him, “So, what is it, you’re going to kill Gwen and then me so that Jack will bounce right back into your arms?”
“No, I’m just saying that we can help each other.”
“Somehow I have trouble believing the part where we help each other. You’ve never struck me as the helpful type.” Ianto says stoically, fingers paused on the folders.
“That’s because you haven’t known me for long enough, considering the way Jack bundled most of you away from me during my last visit. And anyways,” he continues before Ianto could retort with more sarcasm, “I think we would work well together. I, for one, am very talented at what I do.”
“Right, yes. Because you have done such a good job of seducing Jack so far.”
“Well, five years together and he’s learnt to not fall for most of my tricks.”
“Mmhmm, okay.” Ianto shrugs indifferently and slips a file between Jamison, Edward and Janet the Weevil.
Captain John abandons his spot in the shadows and comes to lean on the filing cabinet beside Ianto’s. “Jealous, are we?”
“No. I’m just not interested in hearing about other peoples’ exes. They get too hung up on the topic to realize that people just don’t really care.” Slap-slap-slap goes the file folders as Ianto flicks through them in an even rhythm.
“But Jack is special, isn’t he? I remember when we did it non-stop for an entire three days. By the end we could barely walk. Have you-?”
The end of the question is drowned out by the snap of a filing cabinet closing. “What do you want?” Ianto says, glaring at the other man.
“Your loving company.” Captain John smiles blithely.
“Right. So you could remind me of Jack over and over again while we’re shagging. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”
“I remember you enjoying it up to that point.”
“It was just reflex. Stimulus-response, nothing complicated.”
“So would you do it if I promise to never bring up Jack when we’re together?”
Ianto hesitates.
“The rules are still the same as last time: no flowers, no chocolates, no strings attached and all that jazz.” Captain John smirks, still leaning on the cabinet, “Unless you want to talk about feelings.”
“Fine,” Ianto nods his consent, “but no mentioning Jack. Ever.”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
---
“Tosh!” Ianto smiles, getting up from her chair, “I brought you the files you needed.”
“Oh. Thanks Ianto.” Tosh smiles back. Ianto sees the appeal in her, even if some other men don’t. They’re very much alike, Ianto muses, and would be good together if he didn’t love her like a sister.
“You see anything interesting?” Tosh tilts her chin towards the screens surrounding her station.
“Well, there’s Owen. But I suppose that’s a matter of taste.” Ianto teases, pointing to the screen showing the autopsy room.
A blush creeps up Tosh’s features, leaving her stammering a little. Smiling indulgently, Ianto offers her the vacant chair.
It’s not like he needs it anymore; his job is done. A continuous loop of the underground archives now runs from the security camera down there, and it’s likely that no one will ever notice the changes anyway. It doesn’t hurt either that the archives is the on the CCTV channel of the lowest priority.
“Are you coming to the pool tournament tonight?” Tosh asks as Ianto is leaving.
“Um, sure.” Ianto shrugs, “Anyone else going?”
Tosh’s sigh tells Ianto all he needs to know, “I asked Owen, but he said he’s busy.”
“How about Jack and Gwen?”
“Actually, I haven’t had a chance to ask them yet. They’re still talking about management issues during Jack’s AWOL months.”
Ianto looks up towards Jack’s office, and through the clear panes of glass he could see Gwen perching on Jack’s desk, leaning close to him, and explaining something on the sheet they are examining. Jack is sitting back in his chair, relaxed, and it would look like any other office scene if not for the way Jack is smiling softly, fondly at her, roving his eyes over every part of her body.
And Gwen’s not oblivious to the attention either, if the way she curves her neck and crosses her legs are by any means indicators.
“Ah.” Ianto nods, “Best not disturb them then.”
---
So it becomes a sort of arrangement between the two. Ianto would wander down to the archives to file the reports of the day or to find reference notes for a case they are investigating, and once every while Captain John Hart would show up for a wild rutting session between them.
“It’s not rutting.” Captain John tells him once. “You make it sound so crude.”
“But it’s perfect to describe what we’re doing,” Ianto counters, “unless you want to call it ‘love making.’” And despite having three of the captain’s fingers pressing against his prostate, Ianto manages to get enough motor function to make feeble quotation marks with his fingers.
Captain John responds by slapping Ianto’s bare ass and pushing into him, bottoming out in a single thrust, and for the next ten minutes, Ianto has no motor functions whatsoever.
But even if Captain John is an asshole, Ianto admits that he does take care of his partners well. He always makes sure that Ianto comes first before following soon after - longer if they forgo what little foreplay they have. And since Captain John doesn’t quite believe in contraceptives, he always pulls out soft, spotless, white handkerchiefs out of his jacket afterwards for cleaning themselves.
(“You’re not secretly a woman, are you?” he asked Ianto when he brought up the subject of condoms once, and they scowled at each other at an impasse for ten minutes before Captain John left to come back in a few minutes with a proof of health, signed by some doctor in London, dated three days ago.
“I’m clean, and you probably are too, the way you’re living. You’d put the Virgin Mary to shame if it isn’t for me. So we shag now, okay?”)
Ianto always goes right back to work after, and he never asks what Captain John does while he’s not at Torchwood.
---
Ianto is resting on the couch during his lunch break when he feels a depression beside him. Opening his eyes, he catches Gwen looking at him.
“How are you today, Ianto?”
“Never been better.” He smiles at her. Ianto always smiles at her, because he finds it kind of difficult to dislike her even if she’s…
Actually, Ianto is not quite sure what Gwen is to him, other than “team mate” and “colleague.” Competitor, maybe? But it’s not even a competition for her, since she has no idea that Jack is taken.
And come to think of it, Jack is not really “taken” either, at least not by Ianto, since their relationship is, by silent agreement, very casual. But sometimes there are these hints and…it’s all very complicated and Ianto doesn’t really want to think about it right now.
“We haven’t talked in so long, it feels.” Gwen says.
“I know what you mean. I get tired just thinking about all the meetings you have with Jack.”
“Ugh,” she groans softly, “let’s not talk about that. You wouldn’t believe it looking at him, but Jack is the boss from hell. He’s lived hundreds of years and will live a billion more, so of course he has the time to look over every single teensy wincey detail. But the rest of us, we have lives outside of work, for Christ’s sake.”
“Actually,” Ianto cocks his head to the side, “I think you’re the only one who does. Tosh spends her nights alone and Owen goes to bars, gets drunk, picks fights, and has one night stands.”
“What do you do after work then?”
“I clean up all your messes.”
“Oh. Ianto, I-”
“No need to apologise. It’s part of my job description.”
“But I still, I mean, every night-”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t much else to do anyways.”
“Don’t you get lonely sometimes? I mean, after Lisa…oh, sorry.” Gwen pulls off sympathy very well, Ianto thinks, watching her panicked features, “I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine.” Ianto smiles and tries to calm his heart, which has begun pounding the moment Lisa’s name left Gwen’s lips. It’s all very Pavlovian, but Ianto has learnt to live with it. “If you really feel sorry for me, then maybe pick up after yourself a bit more. That way I can get more sleep at night, all right?”
The relief on Gwen’s face is as genuine as her sincerity, and she nods emphatically before freezing, looking at a point over Ianto’s shoulder.
Ianto turns his head and sees Jack climbing the stairs.
“Okay, Ianto,” Gwen whispers, giving him a quick hug before running off, “got to go before Jack makes me go over the accounting with him again.”
Jack sits down on the other side of Ianto when he gets there.
“Where’s Gwen?” Jack asks, looking around the Hub.
Ianto shrugs, “Dunno, haven’t seen her since the second cup of coffee.”
Jack nods slowly, “Okay…so, you doing all right?”
“Of course sir, never better.”
“You always say that.”
“Because I always am, sir.”
“Right. I wonder how much better can you keep feeling before you reach a limit?”
“Maybe it’s asymptotic.” Ianto suggests. “Always approaching but never reaching that superlative state.”
“Not even if I tried really hard?” Jack smirks suggestively.
“Well any-anything is possible if you try. If you have the time and the effort.” Ianto stutters.
“We have half an hour before the team comes back, don’t we?”
“Could we? I mean, it’s a very short time-”
“You forget.” Jack says, leaning in to nip at Ianto’s jaw line, “I’m Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood leader extraordinaire. I make the impossible possible.”
---
Ianto notices that it’s never busy when Captain John Hart shows up. There’s never been an oh-my-lord-we’re-going-to-die-if-we-can’t-find-a-solution moment when Ianto finds him in the archives. It makes him wonder if the captain is watching Torchwood - and him.
“Of course not,” Captain John says defensively when Ianto makes a passing comment about it, “just luck. And sometimes I pop in when you’re not here and leave.”
“But you never show up when I’m here and it’s busy. You know, probability wise, that’s very improbable.” Ianto blows on the other man’s cock a little to see it give an extremely interested twitch, becoming even harder in anticipation of what will follow.
Teasingly licking a clear drop of precome from the dark red crown, Ianto could feel the other man’s frustration at how slow they are going, partly from the way the hands on the back of his head are trying to press Ianto’s mouth closer to, onto, his cock. But Ianto is strong too, and he forcefully pushes the Captain’s hips down and shakes off the hands, going again at a torturous pace.
“Okay, fine,” Captain John says, huffing slightly at his unrewarded efforts, “If I say that I sometimes watch you to see if you’re busy, will you hurry up and suck me properly with those pretty lips of yours?”
Ianto smiles up at him briefly like a cat that got the canary, and begins inching down the shaft after lavishing attention on the tip.
“Yes.” Groans the captain. “Hell yes. Like that, eye candy.” And the stamina he is always boasting of is gone out the window as Ianto swallows him down fully, his tongue dancing a wicked pattern on the underside of his cock. Within a few thrusts, he came, shuddering down Ianto’s throat.
When he finally came to, Ianto was looking at him expectantly.
“And this is the part where you return the favour.”
“Okay.” The captain says, still a little out of it.
“Honestly, I’m beginning to think that the three days of non-stop shagging with Jack is simply a story you made up to-”
An uncomfortable silence follows.
“Do you still want me to-” Captain John offers offhandedly, breaking the awkward tension.
“Oh no. I’m, I’m fine now.” Ianto feels slightly sick, “I have to go now, the others are expecting me.”
“Okay.”
And this time, it’s Ianto who leaves first.
---
In hindsight, having sex with Jack that day wasn’t such a good idea. Gwen found out, obviously, because Jack couldn’t possibly have expected Ianto to keep quiet when he was doing that to him with his tongue, right?
And it was undeniably awkward for a few weeks. Tosh noticed, Owen didn’t, because he’s like that.
Gwen’s keeping it a secret at Jack’s request, but there’s a tension between the two that Ianto has never seen before.
As for him and Gwen? Well, Ianto doesn’t know where they stand now, considering that they haven’t talked since that day on the couch.
Except now she knows about him and Jack, doesn’t she? Ianto wonders. So would that make her a competitor?
Ianto thinks he’s got the answer when, one day, Jack and Gwen are laughing and chatting again like before. He doesn’t want to know what the two did to resolve their tension.
---
Part 2