TW-ficlet: Savour Each Moment (R)
The Hub is empty, finally. No more relentless tapping from Tosh’s keyboard, no more laughing and teasing from Gwen and Owen. It’s empty and quiet, save for the sound of running water. The lights are dimmed, blue and chilly in the dark. Only here in Jack’s office is it yellow and warm.
Ianto has been waiting for this all day. Has been playing it out in his mind, over and over, letting it build slowly. Jack can be a kinky bastard, but Ianto has a kink or two himself and he likes to take his time, get the most out of these little moments.
Now, Jack is leaning against the wall, carefully arranged according to Ianto’s directions. He’s dressed only in his greatcoat, the dark blue fabrik in stark contrast to his pale skin. His legs are slightly spread, his head to the side, eyes closed and mouth open.
Ianto himself is sitting naked in Jack’s chair, pushed away from the desk. One leg thrown over the arm of the chair, the other stretched out in front of him. His dick is resting red and hard against his belly, but won’t let himself touch, not yet. He wants to draw it out, wants to savour every second of this, of watching Jack.
He likes to watch and Jack likes being watched, knows how to make a show of it. He runs his nails over his chest, licks his lips, touches and teases himself with clever fingers. Ianto watches, mesmerised by the smooth movement of Jack’s muscles, the rhythm of his hips as he thrusts into his own hand.
Jack opens his eyes as he comes, locks Ianto’s gaze with his own. Ianto can’t keep still, has to touch himself a bit, slow light strokes over the head, just to ease the pressure a little as he watches Jack gasp and shudder through his orgasm. His come splatters in pearly drops over his hand, his stomach, the sleeve of the coat.
Ianto’s going to have to take it to the dry-cleaners again tomorrow. The old gentleman who owns it gives Ianto dirty, knowing smiles every time he examines the various stains on the coat. Ianto usually smiles right back because of the rush it gives him. Half of Cardiff knows that coat, knows who it belongs to. It’s Ianto’s way of telling the world; ‘Yes, I’m shagging Jack Harkness. I’m the one who makes him come like this.’
Jack knows that. He smiles as he sags against the wall, laughs a little, all relaxed and loose-limbed. Ianto reaches out, waves him closer so he can grab Jack’s wrist, pull it to his mouth and lick Jack’s come off his hand. He keeps his eyes open as he does it, wraps his tongue wetly around Jack’s fingers and looks up so he can see Jack’s pupils dilate and his eyes go dark with lust all over again.
Ianto never gets tired of seeing that look on Jack’s face. Never gets tired of being the one who gets to put it there.
Jack leans forward for a kiss, licks his way into Ianto’s mouth, tasting himself there. For a moment, Ianto lets him, revelling in the feeling of their tongues sliding together. But he has other plans. He’s been watching for a long time and now it’s finally time to touch, to caress every inch of pale smooth skin and dark scratchy wool. The heat of Jack's insides, clenching around Ianto’s slick fingers. Jack’s mouth against his, their tongues battling for dominance. Ianto loves the sounds he can draw from Jack’s throat, the moan as he gently bites Jack’s lip, the gasp as he hits the right spot inside.
If only they could be like this forever, wrapped in each other, connected in every way that matters. Ianto maps every shiver, every sigh, commits them to memory so he’ll always have a little bit of Jack with him.
They don't have forever. Ianto has to savour each moment like it's the last. He leans back in the chair, grabs Jack's waist and lets him straddle his lap. Jack lowers himself carefully and his coat drapes itself in gentle folds around them.
-fin-
Edit 2012-10-07: Unfortunately, I've been forced to shut down comments on this entry because of spam. Sorry about that!
Ianto has been waiting for this all day. Has been playing it out in his mind, over and over, letting it build slowly. Jack can be a kinky bastard, but Ianto has a kink or two himself and he likes to take his time, get the most out of these little moments.
Now, Jack is leaning against the wall, carefully arranged according to Ianto’s directions. He’s dressed only in his greatcoat, the dark blue fabrik in stark contrast to his pale skin. His legs are slightly spread, his head to the side, eyes closed and mouth open.
Ianto himself is sitting naked in Jack’s chair, pushed away from the desk. One leg thrown over the arm of the chair, the other stretched out in front of him. His dick is resting red and hard against his belly, but won’t let himself touch, not yet. He wants to draw it out, wants to savour every second of this, of watching Jack.
He likes to watch and Jack likes being watched, knows how to make a show of it. He runs his nails over his chest, licks his lips, touches and teases himself with clever fingers. Ianto watches, mesmerised by the smooth movement of Jack’s muscles, the rhythm of his hips as he thrusts into his own hand.
Jack opens his eyes as he comes, locks Ianto’s gaze with his own. Ianto can’t keep still, has to touch himself a bit, slow light strokes over the head, just to ease the pressure a little as he watches Jack gasp and shudder through his orgasm. His come splatters in pearly drops over his hand, his stomach, the sleeve of the coat.
Ianto’s going to have to take it to the dry-cleaners again tomorrow. The old gentleman who owns it gives Ianto dirty, knowing smiles every time he examines the various stains on the coat. Ianto usually smiles right back because of the rush it gives him. Half of Cardiff knows that coat, knows who it belongs to. It’s Ianto’s way of telling the world; ‘Yes, I’m shagging Jack Harkness. I’m the one who makes him come like this.’
Jack knows that. He smiles as he sags against the wall, laughs a little, all relaxed and loose-limbed. Ianto reaches out, waves him closer so he can grab Jack’s wrist, pull it to his mouth and lick Jack’s come off his hand. He keeps his eyes open as he does it, wraps his tongue wetly around Jack’s fingers and looks up so he can see Jack’s pupils dilate and his eyes go dark with lust all over again.
Ianto never gets tired of seeing that look on Jack’s face. Never gets tired of being the one who gets to put it there.
Jack leans forward for a kiss, licks his way into Ianto’s mouth, tasting himself there. For a moment, Ianto lets him, revelling in the feeling of their tongues sliding together. But he has other plans. He’s been watching for a long time and now it’s finally time to touch, to caress every inch of pale smooth skin and dark scratchy wool. The heat of Jack's insides, clenching around Ianto’s slick fingers. Jack’s mouth against his, their tongues battling for dominance. Ianto loves the sounds he can draw from Jack’s throat, the moan as he gently bites Jack’s lip, the gasp as he hits the right spot inside.
If only they could be like this forever, wrapped in each other, connected in every way that matters. Ianto maps every shiver, every sigh, commits them to memory so he’ll always have a little bit of Jack with him.
They don't have forever. Ianto has to savour each moment like it's the last. He leans back in the chair, grabs Jack's waist and lets him straddle his lap. Jack lowers himself carefully and his coat drapes itself in gentle folds around them.
-fin-
Edit 2012-10-07: Unfortunately, I've been forced to shut down comments on this entry because of spam. Sorry about that!