Torchwood fic: 'Hard at Work' Jack/Ianto NC-17
Title: Hard at Work
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Warnings: D/S
Rating: NC-17, words 2,300
A/N: Jack trains Ianto to be his submissive. Post-Cyberwoman.
1st part - First Punishment
2nd part - Second Error
3rd part - Needs
4th part - Wants
5th part - Rules
Erotophile. He liked the way the word sounded when he whispered it: Erotophile. A lover of sex. That's one term Ianto had selected to describe Jack when he thought about him. Which was constantly.
Fuck monster was the other.
Ianto had a glimpse of it when he'd interacted with Jack very early on. In the warehouse. That instant sense of arousal he felt around his boss. He'd pushed that down: there was Lisa to think about, and Ianto had zero energy left over while she-
But that was over. It had been over even before Ianto had made his way out of London with a purloined truck and found a warehouse and got himself hired on at Torchwood.
It was a piece of his history now. He'd been forgiven and he decided he was going to forgive himself and try to forget.
He thought it might be a bad idea, sometimes...pushing Lisa out of his recent data banks, like clearing the temp files cache on his laptop. But god, the memories weren't exactly good, were they? And now Captain Jack Harkness was taking up that mental space.
Ianto didn't want to think that he was...obsessing. But yet. When Jack wasn't at his flat Ianto thought about him. All the time.
+++
On Sunday night, the day before Ianto was to return to work, Jack flipped through Ianto's closet, shut the flimsy accordion panels with a hasty whoosh, and hooked a hanger on the doorknob. Blue shirt, dark red tie.
"You'll wear this," Jack had said with finality.
"Blue. Shocking, sir."
Jack turned his head and cocked a brow. "Insolence?" he asked, but one corner of his mouth twitched.
"No sir."
But it was fine, because Jack was pulling Ianto's own things out of Ianto's closet, not a glittery tutu out of a dress-up trunk.
And then Jack had advanced to the bed with a gleam in his eye. Jack was all hands and mouth and a blur of blue shirt and Ianto's arms and legs were confined and...Jesus. Seconds later Jack was inside him, and oh god he'd been waiting for this for what had felt like all fucking day. Ianto felt the scrape of Jack's chin against his chest and threw his head back. Jack paused and pulled off Ianto's cock ring, ran a slick hand over his flesh and he was done. He came hard, struggling not to say a word, and Jack groaned and pushed in harder. Ianto could feel Jack's legs tremble, just before he came. They always did.
Jack collapsed above him, panting, still jerking, then slowing.
"So. Fucking. Good," Jack rumbled.
Jack had hinted earlier that he was "in control of everyone", meaning, well, whichever way Ianto wanted to understand that. But Ianto heard things Jack didn't. He knew this was basically bullshit. Everyone at Torchwood knew what Jack was like, but Ianto was pretty sure nobody else really knew what Jack was like.
It gave Ianto a particular thrill, being the one who did.
+++
Ianto, exhausted and languid of limb, watched the blue shirt blur as he began to drift off while Jack gathered his things. but he got up hurriedly when Jack strode out and stopped him in the hallway.
"Jack," Ianto said, sitting in his dark blue bathrobe and fraying the edges of the letter-sized tablet with his thumbs as they sat in the kitchen, "I don't want the others at work to...to guess."
"I can be subtle," Jack said, as he stuffed an orange segment into his mouth. Ianto fought hard to keep his expression neutral. Fuck monster.
"You're looking forward to it, coming back," Jack stated. He threw the peels towards the waste bin and got most of them in.
And fuck if he wasn't. He wasn't particularly excited about picking up the trail of teatime litter or being buried alone in the archives, but yeah, Ianto had even dreamed about going back in, fueled by Jack's almost offhand comments about fucking him over his desk in the Tourist Centre, marking his skin, harnessing him under the trousers he'd selected himself for Ianto to wear. But Ianto was practical.
"I want to make another rule," he said, picking up the pen. "About work."
"Oh, come on," Jack protested, "No. I'm not-" But Ianto looked so miserable, Jack pulled the pen from his hand and wrote on the tablet: THE HUB IS A NEUTRAL SPACE. DURING WORKING HOURS. He glanced at Ianto.
"If you're going to be angry over this..."
"I'm not angry, Ianto."
"They'll all think I'm back because we're-" What were they, anyway? Fucking? Dating? No. Jack had said...no. Fucking, then.
"No one will think anything about anything," Jack persisted, but Ianto knew that wasn't true. A month earlier, Jack hadn't answered his comm and Tosh had traced his whereabouts to his last location, a city centre pub. Owen had snarked about Jack being on the pull during working hours and Gwen had straightened in her chair and pretended to work on some reports. But they'd all spent the next three days speculating about who Jack might be seeing. Despite the way he'd developed an appallingly instant addiction to Jack's...to Jack, he had enough misgivings about coming back without everyone knowing that he and Jack were, well, whatever they were.
Ianto thought they probably knew Jack was here right now. He hadn't stayed overnight, ever. Ianto wasn't sure he wanted him to. He did. And he didn't. When Jack was...finished with him, Ianto was exhausted. He knew Jack would be back, but he told himself he didn't exactly want him there all the time. Or maybe he did.
"Woolgathering?" Jack asked him.
"Yes sir," Ianto said.
"Let me make something very clear. If you want to quit. Not..." he gestured vaguely at the darkened hallway with a glimmer of light stretching out from Ianto's bedroom, "not this, but the job." He paused. "And this, but if you want to leave... People have left Torchwood, all right? It's not a lifetime commitment."
Ianto regarded him with a steady but sceptical eye. "Maybe I don't want to quit."
"I'm not forcing you to do anything, am I? You want...you want this." Jack leaned forward and clasped his fingers lightly around the chain on Ianto's neck, then tugged at the lock. "Let me make something clear, Ianto. Our secret. No one has to know, all right?"
Ianto was certain everyone would be able to tell as soon as he walked in.
+++
A shave, blue suit, light blue shirt and the...Ianto put the hanger back in the closet and selected a white shirt and pale blue tie instead-. He whistled as he dressed.
Jack was preoccupied with paperwork, showing Gwen something and gesturing at a page when Ianto brought him his first cup of morning coffee. Not looking up, he motioned for Ianto to set it down. Ianto was disappointed. Yes, work was "neutral", but was Jack going to ignore him? He cleared his throat.
"'Morning, Ianto," Gwen said, smiling. When their eyes met, Ianto attempted to gauge what Jack had told her, told all of them about his suspension period and return. He suspected it was something like, "pretend nothing ever happened." He considered this, and decided that it was probably good.
"You all right?" Gwen asked, trying to sound casual but looking concerned.
"Yes, Gwen. Thanks," Ianto murmured. He was grateful to see worry reflected in her expression instead of anger. Or pity. That would have been worse.
"I like your tie," she said. And then Jack looked up. His jaw clenched and Ianto caught it. He tilted his head.
"Anything else, sir? Gwen, I'll make more coffee in a bit. I couldn't find your mug."
"Oh. Oh, I left it...somewhere," she said, and straightened, brushing imaginary dust from the front of her jeans. "Appreciate the help, Jack."
"Finish these up by the end of the day," Jack told her, closing the folder and handing it over to her.
"Will do." Gwen brushed past Ianto and patted his shoulder awkwardly before walking out. "See you later, Ianto." She paused at the doorway. "Welcome back."
"Sure," Ianto said, his eyes still glued to Jack. "Thanks, Gwen."
"That's a nice tie," Jack said, his voice low.
"Thank you, sir," Ianto replied.
"...but it's not what I told you to wear today."
"I'm aware of that. I felt like the blue. Sir." He added the appellation as an afterthought, meaning to, and his pulse quickened as Jack stood and circled the desk. Ianto glanced at the open door, and Jack captured his chin and turned his face forward. He ran his fingertips down the side of Ianto's neck and over his collar, then beneath the silk knot of his tie. He could feel the pressure of warmed metal against his skin when Jack pressed against the lock pendant.
"I don't like it when you can't obey a simple order, Ianto," Jack said, his voice tight. Ianto's pulse pounded against the lock. "Shut the door and lock it."
"Jack..."
"Sir."
"Sir, work is...neutral space," Ianto whispered.
"Tit for tat. If you refuse to follow a rule, then so do I. That one's off the table today. You're testing me and clearly need a lesson. Shut the door."
Ianto paused, then turned and headed for the door, then shut and fastened the lock with a click.
"Take everything off," Jack ordered, still seated. "Tie first."
"Sir, Gwen is waiting for me to-"
"Coffee and pastries can wait. Your first duty is to me."
Ianto loosened the perfectly-aligned half-windsor knot at his throat, and with shaking fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons and cufflinks. He slipped the crisp cotton from his shoulders and placed it over the chair in front of Jack's desk. Then he pulled his t-shirt over his head.
"Hurry up," Jack ordered, with irritation in his voice. Ianto quickly unfastened his belt and trousers and slid them down together with his boxer shorts. He pulled his socks off as well and stood before Jack, skin prickling from Jack's gaze and hairs rising from the recirculated air from the vent. Funny how he didn't notice the feel of air much when fully dressed, even against his hands and face. Jack stood and walked around the desk, laid a palm on Ianto's shoulder and walked around him, sliding it down his back. Ianto shivered. "Is there any reason I shouldn't take off my belt and discipline you right now?"
Ianto's mouth was dry. Surely the others would hear. Jack pushed him forward and moved his legs apart with one of his own. Ianto could feel Jack's warm, dry fingertips slide along his ass, to the crack and then against the outside of his opening. Jack teased at the tender flesh with one finger and Ianto gasped.
"Quiet!" Jack hissed. He pulled his hand away swiftly and Ianto braced for a slap or worse, but nothing came. Jack leaned forward over Ianto's bare back, hands curling over the muscular ridge at the top of his hips. "I'd like to fuck you raw right here, over the desk." Jack pushed his hips forward and up, almost experimentally, once, then harder, the wool sliding against flesh.
Ianto bit back a reply. He dropped his head forward and surveyed his own cock, swollen hard as he knew Jack was. He'd been hard since he'd picked up the red tie this morning and stared at it before tossing it on his pillow.
"But I won't." Jack pulled Ianto upright and stepped in front of him, unfastening his own belt and unzipping his fly. "Drop to your knees." Ianto complied immediately, falling to his knees on the solid floor. as Jack extracted his cock, already stiff, and leaned backward to rest against the desk. "Get me off." Ianto let his hands fall to the front of Jack's thighs, sliding up along the fabric as he took Jack's cock into his mouth. "Use your hands, yeah, that's it." Jack's breath quickened. "Make it good," he said quietly as Ianto moved his lips downward and darted his tongue along the length of the shaft. Jack's hand slid behind his neck and his thumb slipped along his hairline as his fingers twisted into the lock chain.
"Oh fuck. Fuck," Jack breathed, as Ianto took the full length of his cock into his mouth. He slowed, swirled his tongue along the smooth ridge as he pulled backward slightly. With a moan, Jack angled his hips and began to thrust with rapid strokes - "Yes. Yeah." then slowed and finally came with a hiss and a hot rush. Ianto swallowed, palms sliding down the back of Jack's thighs as he pulled away from his cock with a slow, deliberate motion. He looked up at Jack, whose eyes were still aimed skyward, and settled back on his heels.
"Now stand up and get dressed," Jack said, as he walked back to his seat. He pulled a notepad forward and scribbled something, then tore off the sheet haphazardly. He folded the paper into a small rectangle and palmed it. He gestured at Ianto to come round his side of the desk, and reaching around, tucked the paper into Ianto's back trouser pocket, alongside his wallet.
"I won't make to yours tonight. I'm not pleased about the way you follow instructions." He cleared his throat. "Some of them. But they're all equally important, Ianto."
+++
The next morning, Ianto consulted the note in yesterday's trousers again:
Tomorrow I've got a surprise for you. Be at work at half eight and prepared to do what you're told.
Clearly, "neutral space" is now off the table.
And I noticed you got the shirt wrong, too.
He reached for his crimson tie.
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Warnings: D/S
Rating: NC-17, words 2,300
A/N: Jack trains Ianto to be his submissive. Post-Cyberwoman.
1st part - First Punishment
2nd part - Second Error
3rd part - Needs
4th part - Wants
5th part - Rules
Erotophile. He liked the way the word sounded when he whispered it: Erotophile. A lover of sex. That's one term Ianto had selected to describe Jack when he thought about him. Which was constantly.
Fuck monster was the other.
Ianto had a glimpse of it when he'd interacted with Jack very early on. In the warehouse. That instant sense of arousal he felt around his boss. He'd pushed that down: there was Lisa to think about, and Ianto had zero energy left over while she-
But that was over. It had been over even before Ianto had made his way out of London with a purloined truck and found a warehouse and got himself hired on at Torchwood.
It was a piece of his history now. He'd been forgiven and he decided he was going to forgive himself and try to forget.
He thought it might be a bad idea, sometimes...pushing Lisa out of his recent data banks, like clearing the temp files cache on his laptop. But god, the memories weren't exactly good, were they? And now Captain Jack Harkness was taking up that mental space.
Ianto didn't want to think that he was...obsessing. But yet. When Jack wasn't at his flat Ianto thought about him. All the time.
+++
On Sunday night, the day before Ianto was to return to work, Jack flipped through Ianto's closet, shut the flimsy accordion panels with a hasty whoosh, and hooked a hanger on the doorknob. Blue shirt, dark red tie.
"You'll wear this," Jack had said with finality.
"Blue. Shocking, sir."
Jack turned his head and cocked a brow. "Insolence?" he asked, but one corner of his mouth twitched.
"No sir."
But it was fine, because Jack was pulling Ianto's own things out of Ianto's closet, not a glittery tutu out of a dress-up trunk.
And then Jack had advanced to the bed with a gleam in his eye. Jack was all hands and mouth and a blur of blue shirt and Ianto's arms and legs were confined and...Jesus. Seconds later Jack was inside him, and oh god he'd been waiting for this for what had felt like all fucking day. Ianto felt the scrape of Jack's chin against his chest and threw his head back. Jack paused and pulled off Ianto's cock ring, ran a slick hand over his flesh and he was done. He came hard, struggling not to say a word, and Jack groaned and pushed in harder. Ianto could feel Jack's legs tremble, just before he came. They always did.
Jack collapsed above him, panting, still jerking, then slowing.
"So. Fucking. Good," Jack rumbled.
Jack had hinted earlier that he was "in control of everyone", meaning, well, whichever way Ianto wanted to understand that. But Ianto heard things Jack didn't. He knew this was basically bullshit. Everyone at Torchwood knew what Jack was like, but Ianto was pretty sure nobody else really knew what Jack was like.
It gave Ianto a particular thrill, being the one who did.
+++
Ianto, exhausted and languid of limb, watched the blue shirt blur as he began to drift off while Jack gathered his things. but he got up hurriedly when Jack strode out and stopped him in the hallway.
"Jack," Ianto said, sitting in his dark blue bathrobe and fraying the edges of the letter-sized tablet with his thumbs as they sat in the kitchen, "I don't want the others at work to...to guess."
"I can be subtle," Jack said, as he stuffed an orange segment into his mouth. Ianto fought hard to keep his expression neutral. Fuck monster.
"You're looking forward to it, coming back," Jack stated. He threw the peels towards the waste bin and got most of them in.
And fuck if he wasn't. He wasn't particularly excited about picking up the trail of teatime litter or being buried alone in the archives, but yeah, Ianto had even dreamed about going back in, fueled by Jack's almost offhand comments about fucking him over his desk in the Tourist Centre, marking his skin, harnessing him under the trousers he'd selected himself for Ianto to wear. But Ianto was practical.
"I want to make another rule," he said, picking up the pen. "About work."
"Oh, come on," Jack protested, "No. I'm not-" But Ianto looked so miserable, Jack pulled the pen from his hand and wrote on the tablet: THE HUB IS A NEUTRAL SPACE. DURING WORKING HOURS. He glanced at Ianto.
"If you're going to be angry over this..."
"I'm not angry, Ianto."
"They'll all think I'm back because we're-" What were they, anyway? Fucking? Dating? No. Jack had said...no. Fucking, then.
"No one will think anything about anything," Jack persisted, but Ianto knew that wasn't true. A month earlier, Jack hadn't answered his comm and Tosh had traced his whereabouts to his last location, a city centre pub. Owen had snarked about Jack being on the pull during working hours and Gwen had straightened in her chair and pretended to work on some reports. But they'd all spent the next three days speculating about who Jack might be seeing. Despite the way he'd developed an appallingly instant addiction to Jack's...to Jack, he had enough misgivings about coming back without everyone knowing that he and Jack were, well, whatever they were.
Ianto thought they probably knew Jack was here right now. He hadn't stayed overnight, ever. Ianto wasn't sure he wanted him to. He did. And he didn't. When Jack was...finished with him, Ianto was exhausted. He knew Jack would be back, but he told himself he didn't exactly want him there all the time. Or maybe he did.
"Woolgathering?" Jack asked him.
"Yes sir," Ianto said.
"Let me make something very clear. If you want to quit. Not..." he gestured vaguely at the darkened hallway with a glimmer of light stretching out from Ianto's bedroom, "not this, but the job." He paused. "And this, but if you want to leave... People have left Torchwood, all right? It's not a lifetime commitment."
Ianto regarded him with a steady but sceptical eye. "Maybe I don't want to quit."
"I'm not forcing you to do anything, am I? You want...you want this." Jack leaned forward and clasped his fingers lightly around the chain on Ianto's neck, then tugged at the lock. "Let me make something clear, Ianto. Our secret. No one has to know, all right?"
Ianto was certain everyone would be able to tell as soon as he walked in.
+++
A shave, blue suit, light blue shirt and the...Ianto put the hanger back in the closet and selected a white shirt and pale blue tie instead-. He whistled as he dressed.
Jack was preoccupied with paperwork, showing Gwen something and gesturing at a page when Ianto brought him his first cup of morning coffee. Not looking up, he motioned for Ianto to set it down. Ianto was disappointed. Yes, work was "neutral", but was Jack going to ignore him? He cleared his throat.
"'Morning, Ianto," Gwen said, smiling. When their eyes met, Ianto attempted to gauge what Jack had told her, told all of them about his suspension period and return. He suspected it was something like, "pretend nothing ever happened." He considered this, and decided that it was probably good.
"You all right?" Gwen asked, trying to sound casual but looking concerned.
"Yes, Gwen. Thanks," Ianto murmured. He was grateful to see worry reflected in her expression instead of anger. Or pity. That would have been worse.
"I like your tie," she said. And then Jack looked up. His jaw clenched and Ianto caught it. He tilted his head.
"Anything else, sir? Gwen, I'll make more coffee in a bit. I couldn't find your mug."
"Oh. Oh, I left it...somewhere," she said, and straightened, brushing imaginary dust from the front of her jeans. "Appreciate the help, Jack."
"Finish these up by the end of the day," Jack told her, closing the folder and handing it over to her.
"Will do." Gwen brushed past Ianto and patted his shoulder awkwardly before walking out. "See you later, Ianto." She paused at the doorway. "Welcome back."
"Sure," Ianto said, his eyes still glued to Jack. "Thanks, Gwen."
"That's a nice tie," Jack said, his voice low.
"Thank you, sir," Ianto replied.
"...but it's not what I told you to wear today."
"I'm aware of that. I felt like the blue. Sir." He added the appellation as an afterthought, meaning to, and his pulse quickened as Jack stood and circled the desk. Ianto glanced at the open door, and Jack captured his chin and turned his face forward. He ran his fingertips down the side of Ianto's neck and over his collar, then beneath the silk knot of his tie. He could feel the pressure of warmed metal against his skin when Jack pressed against the lock pendant.
"I don't like it when you can't obey a simple order, Ianto," Jack said, his voice tight. Ianto's pulse pounded against the lock. "Shut the door and lock it."
"Jack..."
"Sir."
"Sir, work is...neutral space," Ianto whispered.
"Tit for tat. If you refuse to follow a rule, then so do I. That one's off the table today. You're testing me and clearly need a lesson. Shut the door."
Ianto paused, then turned and headed for the door, then shut and fastened the lock with a click.
"Take everything off," Jack ordered, still seated. "Tie first."
"Sir, Gwen is waiting for me to-"
"Coffee and pastries can wait. Your first duty is to me."
Ianto loosened the perfectly-aligned half-windsor knot at his throat, and with shaking fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons and cufflinks. He slipped the crisp cotton from his shoulders and placed it over the chair in front of Jack's desk. Then he pulled his t-shirt over his head.
"Hurry up," Jack ordered, with irritation in his voice. Ianto quickly unfastened his belt and trousers and slid them down together with his boxer shorts. He pulled his socks off as well and stood before Jack, skin prickling from Jack's gaze and hairs rising from the recirculated air from the vent. Funny how he didn't notice the feel of air much when fully dressed, even against his hands and face. Jack stood and walked around the desk, laid a palm on Ianto's shoulder and walked around him, sliding it down his back. Ianto shivered. "Is there any reason I shouldn't take off my belt and discipline you right now?"
Ianto's mouth was dry. Surely the others would hear. Jack pushed him forward and moved his legs apart with one of his own. Ianto could feel Jack's warm, dry fingertips slide along his ass, to the crack and then against the outside of his opening. Jack teased at the tender flesh with one finger and Ianto gasped.
"Quiet!" Jack hissed. He pulled his hand away swiftly and Ianto braced for a slap or worse, but nothing came. Jack leaned forward over Ianto's bare back, hands curling over the muscular ridge at the top of his hips. "I'd like to fuck you raw right here, over the desk." Jack pushed his hips forward and up, almost experimentally, once, then harder, the wool sliding against flesh.
Ianto bit back a reply. He dropped his head forward and surveyed his own cock, swollen hard as he knew Jack was. He'd been hard since he'd picked up the red tie this morning and stared at it before tossing it on his pillow.
"But I won't." Jack pulled Ianto upright and stepped in front of him, unfastening his own belt and unzipping his fly. "Drop to your knees." Ianto complied immediately, falling to his knees on the solid floor. as Jack extracted his cock, already stiff, and leaned backward to rest against the desk. "Get me off." Ianto let his hands fall to the front of Jack's thighs, sliding up along the fabric as he took Jack's cock into his mouth. "Use your hands, yeah, that's it." Jack's breath quickened. "Make it good," he said quietly as Ianto moved his lips downward and darted his tongue along the length of the shaft. Jack's hand slid behind his neck and his thumb slipped along his hairline as his fingers twisted into the lock chain.
"Oh fuck. Fuck," Jack breathed, as Ianto took the full length of his cock into his mouth. He slowed, swirled his tongue along the smooth ridge as he pulled backward slightly. With a moan, Jack angled his hips and began to thrust with rapid strokes - "Yes. Yeah." then slowed and finally came with a hiss and a hot rush. Ianto swallowed, palms sliding down the back of Jack's thighs as he pulled away from his cock with a slow, deliberate motion. He looked up at Jack, whose eyes were still aimed skyward, and settled back on his heels.
"Now stand up and get dressed," Jack said, as he walked back to his seat. He pulled a notepad forward and scribbled something, then tore off the sheet haphazardly. He folded the paper into a small rectangle and palmed it. He gestured at Ianto to come round his side of the desk, and reaching around, tucked the paper into Ianto's back trouser pocket, alongside his wallet.
"I won't make to yours tonight. I'm not pleased about the way you follow instructions." He cleared his throat. "Some of them. But they're all equally important, Ianto."
+++
The next morning, Ianto consulted the note in yesterday's trousers again:
Tomorrow I've got a surprise for you. Be at work at half eight and prepared to do what you're told.
Clearly, "neutral space" is now off the table.
And I noticed you got the shirt wrong, too.
He reached for his crimson tie.