This is a Torchwood fanfic. Please feel to comment on this story-your ideas are important! You have to be aware of this BBC series to appreciate this piece.
This story takes place before Gwen’s wedding. This story uses adult sexual themes (described and implied sex between two men) and is moderately graphic but no violence. There is explicit language. It is written envisioning progressive, open-minded, and mature readers. Reader’s discretion is advised.
One would think I would have spoken of this long ago, as I have been in a relationship with Jack Harkness for some three or four months now. But everything seems to have crept up on me so slowly, so strangely that it wasn’t until now that I realized there was a relationship. In the beginning, I wasn’t sure what we were having would be what others would describe as sex. This is not because I am trying to get out of something, like Bill Clinton caught in the news cameras. It also isn’t because I am particularly afraid of being labeled “gay” or “bisexual”, as I am not sure either fits me. I don’t think my sexual orientation is in question as I am not attracted to any other men and never have been, the typical youthful dalliances aside. Unlike Gwen, who seemed to have developed an instant attraction, mine grew over time coming in part from my loneliness and in part from his, despite Lisa’s murder. And, oh, of course, there are those damn 51st Century pheromones.
I guess there is the practicality of admitting one is in love with an immortal with a colorful history like Jack has. I still know very little (more than the others but still very little) but I have met past partners and “playmates” leaving me to only imagine what he’s leaving out. I know that he has been married and deeply in love on several occasions since becoming attached to Earth – some of these relationships have ended badly, created out of tenderness for the other person. Others seemed to have faded through death. I am uncertain where I will end up on this continuum. Hell, maybe he will just retcon me one day. Or, like so many Torchwood staff before me, possibly some alien invasion or technology will wipe me out and save Jack the trouble. But, I digress . . . .
I need to write this. I talk very little (the others know but tend to ignore it, out of politeness or jealousy) and you, dear diary, are my best therapy. I could say it all started that day we captured the pterodactyl or when he used that rather intensive resuscitation technique the day Lisa died. But those events could easily be explained away as typical Jack Harkness flirtations if the following events hadn’t happened.
It started in the Hub’s lower level vaults many weeks after Lisa died. Few of any past or present Torchwood staff go down there but me. It’s damp, dark and wholly uninviting. Initially it served as a place to escape the hostile glares from the rest of the crew but quickly I began to love it down there. I am alone with the history of Torchwood. Being with all the devices, old paper records, books, and nicker-bracker just makes me smile. I know where everything is, where everything goes, and can cross reference items across dates, persons and events at a moment’s notice. I spend hours down here, insuring all the Torchwood artifacts are properly categorized. Tosh and I share a love for the objective-the solid and understandable. My skills down here, like Tosh’s up there, have proven useful on many investigations. But I keep this source of pride to myself. I’d rather stay in the background, as you know, until needed. This is another special skill – knowing when to come forth and when to remain well off stage right.
Although the rest of the staff never comes down to the vaults, Jack comes down even less. He keeps some relics in his office safe but usually those are the special or the especially dangerous ones. I get the rest. So imagine my surprise when he appeared behind me while I was categorizing a stack of new alien anti-venom. I smelled him and then he was there, standing temptingly close to me such that as I turn around, I inhaled Jack’s breathe. He’d just finished eating strawberries.
“Hello handsome!” Jack was giving one of his classic grins, usually offered when he wanted something.
“Sir?”
“What’s you doing?”
“Storing the anti-venom, as you asked,” I said hoping he didn’t notice how nervous I was. “Was there something you needed?”
‘Yes,” he said definitively. While I busied my hands writing useless notations on a clipboard waiting for him to finish, he said nothing. I finally ran out of lines on my pad. “Yes?” It sounded more like pleading than a question but I turned to look at him anyway. Luckily, he was still standing at bit of a distance.
“We need to discuss this whole Lisa thing.”
I dreaded this, the whole confessional people require of you when you’ve done something wrong. They seem to think it is the only way to measure someone’s contriteness and shame. Hadn’t I lost enough? “I am sorry for what happened, for betraying the team’s trust.”
“And mine?” He said this with a lightness in his voice that I didn’t expect. Up to that point, all I had gotten from him was dirty looks at best and misprize at the worst.
“Your keeping me here has meant a great deal,” I admitted. “I loved working at Torchwood London and could see myself doing nothing else. I appreciate you giving me a second chance to . . .” I looked up and he was gone.
Another week went by. His demeanor toward me changed slightly. He thanked me when I brought the coffee or pizza around and this rubbed off on the others, who returned to greeting me when they came in in the morning. Even Owen was civil. Things seemed to be coming to some pleasant homeostasis when Jack appeared again in the vaults.
This time I heard his boots coming down the metal, winding steps announcing a diva’s grand entrance. “How’s it going Ianto?”
“Fine, sir.” I was sitting at a small desk this time, suddenly thinking this made me more ready for him. “May I assist you in finding something?”
“Tell me about Lisa.” The humidity in the room rose by several percentage points. I must have shot him a hostile look because he very quickly returned with, “Don’t wanna talk about her with me?”
“I tend to be rather private.”
“Sometimes too private,” he challenged.
My deep, loud sigh would have been enough for most others. But he is so different. I guess facing all likes of alien invasions or a hundred plus years tightens the skin. Still, I held my ground. “I appreciate your allowing me to remain in your service, Sir. However, I have offered all the explanation I am going to give.”
He smirked and raised his hands in mock surrender, “Whoay big boy!” He took a chair from the corner then brought it in front of my small desk. He seated himself with his arms resting on the chair’s back, hr faced me. “I just want to know the story. Start with how you two met?” His voice seemed genuine, like he was really interested.
I shouldn’t have trusted him. Jack always has an angle. Yet something, I don’t know what, freed my tongue. The more I talked, the more I wanted to say. It was the first time I had spoken of her since she died and it was nice to remember her before she was taken over. I found myself telling him about the night I first saw her at the pub, before I joined Torchwood London. She was laughing with her mates and had the prettiest smile I’d ever seen. I found myself going to that pub daily just in hopes of seeing her (but then you already know that). “You can’t imagine my happy surprise when I found out she worked at Torchwood,” I said with a wistful tone.
“Sounds like love to me,” he said abruptly interrupting my pleasant memories. He stood up, put the chair in its original spot and turned to go. As he approached the steps to leave, he turned back to me and said, “Don’t get lost down here. I will be needing you upstairs soon.”
I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking at the time but I did as instructed and spent more time on the main floor. He seemed to keep me busy with various errands around the city, most of which made no sense or were unconnected to any current mission or rift activity. It was like keeping a dog close by just for the company. After a while I found it quite annoying.
This lasted a few weeks and just when I was about to confront him about it, he came up to me as I was cleaning the coffee machine. It was a Friday night. The others were going to the local pub. They had asked me but I begged off as I had just downloaded Niall Griffiths’ Sheepshagger from Amazon. I was looking forward to a winter weekend hold up in my apartment listening to Chopin and reading. The others had left and I was about done when Jack called me from his office.
“I’m going Weevil hunting. Interested?”
It had been a long time since he had asked me and feeling like this was an opportunity I shouldn’t miss, I agreed.
We left out in the SUV, with him driving. We caught three and missed one. All and all it was a fun time, as we laughed at their feeble attempts at escape. We sedated what we caught and brought them back to the Hub for processing then storage in the cells below. These were a fat lot this time and it took the two of us to get them all in. I was sweating and took off my suit jacket then loosened my tie a bit. “Ah, big boy!” teased Jack, “take it all off and let’s see what you’ve got.”
I laughed but inside I wasn’t uncertain if he was really serious. “You smell good, Jack but not that good,” I forestalled while putting my jacket on the back of a tall stool and rolled up my shirt sleeves. We were back on the main floor of the Hub. The room had an unusual echo I had never noticed before when others were around or when I there alone. It seemed to repeat my increasingly rapid heart rate. This man has a way of making bread baking into a sensual experience.
“Really?” He said as he came up to me, “I must be losing my touch then.” I had my back to him as he ran his hands sensuously across the skin of my exposed forearms down to my fingertips. “My, you’re smelling rather 51st Century yourself, Ianto Jones.”
I turned around haughtily. “Jack!” It seemed to work for Gwen but it was getting me nowhere.
He raised his index finger to my lips. “Shh!” and took a big inhale, closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Male and female humanoids give off different odors,” he whispered. “It’s so . . . intriguing!”
“Jack!” I must of sounded frightened because he immediately backed off and looked at me curiously.
“Honestly!” he raised his eyebrow then gave me one of his sideways grins, “am I being inappropriate here?”
“Some would call it sexual harassment.”
“So when are you calling the lawyers?” It was more of a challenge than a tease. And when I looked down at my pants, noting the slight wetness in the front, I knew why.
I was not amused, “Okay. You’ve won. I’m human.” It was the harshest I had ever spoken to him or to anyone in quite some time. “I haven’t had a shag in a while. Yes, I’m quite lonely but then you knew that too, eh? And you bring a whole new meaning to the word ‘sexy’.” I remember swallowing hard before making the next statement, “But, I’m not gay or whatever you call it on your world and I’m thinking I would like to keep it that way for now.”
As if satisfied that he had gotten my goad but still not playing fair, he walked toward me, and only at the last moment reached behind me to grab my jacket. He handed it to me then smiled, “Go home and enjoy your book.” He walked away, not looking back but I found myself, as I watched him enter his office, wishing he had.
Returning to work on Monday, Jack acted as if nothing happened. I was somewhat grateful because I had a hell of a time explaining the stain on my pants to the dry cleaning lady. Tuesday, Tosh had detected some alien technology. That was an understatement. What Gwen and Jack returned with was nearly a truck load of stolen alien artifacts and weaponry. It was going to be several long nights in the basement vaults identifying, labeling and storing this lot. I was happy to do it though. Finding and inventing new coffee blends is nice but serving can be exhaustingly tedious when there is little else going on.
I brought my iPod down with me as I just downloaded Joshua Bell’s latest album. I connected the device to the portable speakers, creating my own peaceful world. I had gotten through 5 of the 17 crates Gwen and Jack had returned with and was completely lost in thought. I had rationalized the other evening with Jack as just another level of his usual flirtatiousness and decided not take it seriously. How could I? I saw him once try to talk to stealthy lioness at the zoo! He just liked to see us humans blush and admittedly I do that quite easily anyway.
Then, I heard his boots against the metal steps. I looked up from the desk, on guard for whatever he brought next. “I thought I’d check in on you. We’ve got quite a stock there, eh?”
“Yes.” I decided to remain seated in case of anymore unexpected accidents but I kept my eyes glued on him. Were they bluer than usual, I wondered?
“I’m going to need you to enter a supply order soon,” he said casually. “Tosh says we are out of computer discs and Owen needs more gloves.”
I relaxed, lulled into a sense of security. He just wanted me to do my job. I could do that. “Right. I’ll do that before I leave tonight.”
“Do I make you nervous, Ianto?”
Damn, I remember thinking, he’s done it again. “Frankly, yes,” I decided honesty was the best policy. “I never know what you’re going to do next.”
“Ah,” he said and left as abruptly as he came.
It was just me and the music again. Well, the music, me and the smell of Jack Harkness. It was the makings of a long day.
Luckily, I was able to refocus and finish cataloging and storing. I was about to go upstairs and enter the supply order on the computer when Jack reappeared using his personal stealth this time. It had been several hours and frankly I had successfully forced myself to forget about him. He met me at the room’s exit and his presence seemed to push me back in. “Done for the night?” he asked with a gleam in his eye.
“I was about to do that supply order before I go home,” as if my intentions meant anything. He was on a mission.
The next thing I knew, my back was up against a set of crates stacked nearly 8’ high and Jack Harkness was standing so close to me that I could feel his eyes blink. “Really?” he whispered. I inhaled quickly and closed my eyes, as if underwater.
“Exhale,” he demanded.
Maybe it’s my nature to serve so I followed his instruction. When I slowly opened my eyes, I saw that his were closed and is lips were slightly parted. Tasting those lips became my immediate and sole focus. They were inviting like food to a starving man in a hole. Then those pheromones crossed my nose and I was nearly outdone. I knew I wanted those lips but couldn’t say what I would do next – maybe collapse into a pool of lust.
I found my body taking control while my mind was trying to figure out exactly what I thought I was doing. I leaned forward to suckle on those lips, when Jack moved his head. His came around to my left ear and whispered, “Calm down, big boy.” His husky tone brought shivers throughout my body but he didn’t stop there. Before I could recover, he grabbed my sides, pulling me even closer and began alternately kissing and sucking along my neck and top collarbone. I don’t quite know how I remained standing or for how long. I couldn’t move and didn’t want to. All I could feel was those sweet lips against my skin and is hands roughly massaging a certain spot on the sides of my back. He stopped long enough to instruct, “The Chinese say that this area is one of the most erogenous in a human male’s body.” He bit my ear lobe, then said, “I love the Chinese.”
His kisses slowed and his massage turned to a simple embrace. It was like he was calming me down and I followed along like a race horse being bedded for the night. Soon we were both breathing at the same pace and I landed back to the reality of being pressed against a stack of crates in the basement of the Hub. I still felt flush and a bit foolish. He stood way from me now, with one outstretched arm on one side of me and his other hand holding mine. He looked down at my fingers being massaged by his, as if he was a bit embarrassed himself. “I’m not sure I meant all that. You can escape anytime now.”
His words initially hit me sharply, like the tip of a whip against exposed skin until I smelled the change in him. I remembered that smell. I noticed it anytime Jack was scared, genuinely scared which naturally happened a lot on this job. He intended to arouse but found himself caught in his own trap. I took indecent pleasure in that. What had that professional dominatrix said on the Graham Norton Show the other day? The sub runs the relationship?
“I’m okay.” I decided to give him back his illusion of power. If I wanted it to happen again, I thought I shouldn’t scare him anymore than he already was. He didn’t know I was so attuned to his scent (and neither did I until that moment) and it was an advantage I wanted to keep myself for now. “I’d better get that order in though.” I was giving him an out.
He moved aside. “Right, you do that.” He had an irritated tone to his voice now but I left him alone with that also. I took my iPod and left and quickly went upstairs. He didn’t follow me.
I finished the order and left the Hub before he came upstairs to avoid embarrassment for us both. Although I enjoyed that moment, I was confused and torn. Was I gay now? Was this the right thing to do so soon after Lisa? What do two men do together? I was still aroused and tried to masturbate once I arrived at the apartment but my racing mind just wouldn’t shut off. My dick was just as curious as my mind and without proper reference, nothing seemed to satisfy and I eventually just went to sleep.
The next day, Jack was grumpy. He jumped at Tosh a few times, snarled at Gwen and nearly picked a fight with Owen. After serving the morning coffee, I begged off saying that I needed to do my monthly coffee supply errands. He waved me off as if glad not to have to look at me but I would swear he watched me as I packed up and left.
I got back well after the time the others had left. I didn’t see him in his office and assumed it was one of those rare times he went with everyone to the pub. I moved quickly putting away the items I’d acquired. I was feeling safe, confident I had successfully avoided him when his smell grabbed me from behind again. Before I could turn around though, I could tell the pheromones were mixed with alcohol.
“How long have you been there?” I asked.
“Long enough,” he slurred, squinting at me. He was wankered and a bit unsteady on his feet.
“You’re gonna need help getting to bed, Sir.” I moved to put his arm around my shoulder and maneuvered him toward the steps up to his sleeping area. “Did you go to the pub with the others?” I couldn’t believe a few drinks had brought him to this state.
“I left them and came back for something stronger.” He said pointing at the nearly empty liter bottle of what I recognized as hyper vodka.
“You’re gonna need some water otherwise you’ll regret it in the morning,” I said as I put him on his couch and removed his shoes.
“I’m indestructible!” he declared.
I got some water from a nearby sink and came back to him only to find his eyes closed. Damn. It was the first time I could really look at him without everyone thinking I was foolish. He is simply gorgeous. I put the glass down on the end table, hoping he would wake later and drink it. I turned to get some ice wondering yet again what two men did in bed when suddenly Jack jumped up and grabbed my arm. “Did I scare you the other day, Ianto?” He was still slurring his words but looking directly into my eyes with an unabashed seriousness.
“Yes,” I nervously admitted.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said sinking back down on the couch with his head in his hands. Later I would realize that this gesture was not due to a swimming headache but guilt. “You’ve been hurt enough.”
I smiled. It was the kindest thing he had ever said to me. “You should drink the water otherwise you’re going to have a whopper of a hangover in the morning.”
“I don’t get hangovers.”
“You’re lucky then.”
He lay down on the couch and placed his forearm over his eyes. “You’d better go home, Ianto,” he warned. “I get drunk like this and I’m likely not to be so nice.”
I honestly don’t know where this next sentence came from but out of my mouth came the words, “I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be,” he said not moving his arm from his face.
I stood there hoping I could, without asking, get him to touch me again but he didn’t move. I sighed silently, assuming he had fallen back asleep. I went back downstairs to collect my things and leave when he appear near me again. Fuck, he has a way of sneaking up on a person when he wants to! He stood close to me like he did before but this time from behind. And this time, as he rubbed my sides, I was keenly aware of just how hard and large he was as it lay snugly against my arse. This time, the back of my neck got all the attention but it didn’t matter because I could hear him groaning all the while his lips were burning into my skin.
Shit, he stopped as suddenly as he started and this time his eyes were angry. “Ianto go home!” he ordered.
I hadn’t felt that hurt since Lisa died and I’ve written enough about that.
Across the next several weeks, Jack would corner me in the private spaces in the Hub and assault me with his scent and touch. I never knew when he would approach me and he wouldn’t treat me any different in front of the team than he had previously, light with a light tease chaser. It was fun to wait for him but he always controlled the frequency and I wanted something more – but what more meant was unclear to me. At home, I downloaded a couple of gay pornos in hopes of getting some insight. They bored me much the way straight porn did after I left the awkwardness of adolescence. I couldn’t reconcile what was happening between me and Jack with the jagged, anxious machismo that passed for sex between men in those movies. I thought to ask Jerrod. He had had a number of lovers and should know something but he talked too much about “cuties” and back alley trysts. That didn’t fit either. I asked Uncle Todd. Although he and his 30 year relationship with Gab is an example of something less flighty, but their stories were too much like those of an old married couple to be a proper fit either.
I thought to ask Jack but how do you ask, “What’s next?” when your partner leaves so quickly afterwards and seems elusive for long there after? I had to take things into my own hands. I purchased a copy of “The Joy of Gay Sex” (at a bookstore on the other side of town), brought it to the office one day when I knew Gwen was out with Tosh investigating rift readings and Owen was home with the flu. I gathered my courage, walked straight into Jack’s office and dropped the book in front of him on his desk.
“I figured maybe you didn’t know what to do.”
Jack saw the title and let out a rancorous belly laugh until tears came to both our eyes. I guess it was a rather obnoxious hint. “Ianto,” he finally said once he could breathe, “I’ve been around since . . . We’ll just leave that alone for now. Let’s just say I’ve been around several blocks with many species. I think I have a clue.”
“I don’t.” I said rather seriously.
Jack sat back in his chair, pushing off from the desk where he had been reviewing paperwork. He looked at me directly, “Ianto, do you know what you’re doing?”
“I’m asking you the same question.”
He sighed and stood up. He escorted me out of his office, his voice low and serious, “I can’t do this to you. It’s not fair. I shouldn’t have started it in the first place.”
“But you did.” But he had already closed his door and returned to his work.
And I was left confused and dejected and went back to the vaults.
Months went by and I had abandon the idea of anything more happening between Jack and I. I returned to my previous routine, feeding and watering the staff in the morning, cataloguing in the afternoon, and tidying before leaving. There was some comfort in not anxiously wondering anymore if the Captain would visit. But he just couldn’t leave things alone, now could he?
About a week before we revived Suzie, Jack decided to send everyone home early. We’d been researching some strange rift readings that eventually turned out to be a malfunction in the computer system. Tosh got it straight and the rest of us were grateful there wasn’t a massive invasion coming. The others were saying good bye for an upcoming, uncommon three-day weekend and I was about to call my sister, maybe go by for a movie and a takeaway with my niece and nephew. They see me less now than when I worked in London, so I thought this was a good shot at family time. It was Jack’s turn for “rift watch”, so I was transferring everything over to the system in his room. “I’m sending things over to you, Jack,” I called out to him.
“Ianto!” he called back, “come here, I need you.”
I rarely had been in Jack’s private area and thought it strange he was inviting me now. But, I went up there as it sounded urgent.
“Sir?” I asked as I reached the entry way.
“Come in,” he beckoned seductively. I could see those bright blue eyes even in the darkened room.
“Jack,” I found myself saying firmly. “I’m going to visit my sister.”
“Come sit with me,” he said patting the area next to him on the couch. “That’s an order.”
I must have seemed like a reluctant schoolboy being called to answer the math question on the blackboard. It was only once I completely entered the room that I noted the flickering candlelight and the Vivace from Hayden’s Symphony # 46 in B major playing in the background. It didn’t change my continence and I reluctantly blopped next to him on the couch. “Jack, you were right and this is really foolish. I understand that now.”
“I read the book.”
“What?”
“’The Joy of Gay Sex’”, I could see him shaking his head with disapproval, “I could have written something much more comprehensive and provided much more enjoyable pictorials.” He reached behind him and took a glass of scotch in hand and gave it to me.
“I’m sure you could write volumes, “I said sarcastically while taking a sip.
“You’re mad at me.”
“Think so?”
“I know”, he took a sip from his own glass, “I’ve been ignoring you.”
My sigh began an awkward silence that lasted longer than watching winter grass grow. I finally gulped down the rest of my drink and started to stand. “I should go. My sister will be wondering where I am.”
“You never called her.”
Shit, I thought and an easy out ripped from right under me. “I should go anyway.”
“Please stay,” his voice sounded ever so sincere as only his could. His plan was working and the scotch was quite good.
I sat on the edge of the couch and he poured me another shot. “Glenlevet?”
“Longrow.”
“Impressive.”
“Thank you.”
I took another swallow and felt warm aside my anticipation. I could smell those pheromones again. “So, you plan to get me drunk and have your way with me, eh?”
“Damn, am I that obvious? I’m really gonna have to work on my moves!”
We both chuckled but then fell into silence again. The scotch was giving me courage though, so I took a chance, “So what do you do next?”
Smooth like Sinatra’s voice in the night, “Take off the jacket and put the cell phone down.”
“Right.” I jumped up and clumsily removed my suit coat and wondered if I should take off my vest.
“Yes, and the tie too,” he confirmed.
Inhaling was a bad idea as I got a large dose of his smell again and any reservation I had before was now lost. I remember thinking I was glad I was wearing my new underwear. Would Mum be proud?
I put the clothes on a chair across from us and sat back down closer to him. He nuzzled even closer and put his arm around me. I thought I heard him sigh in relief but I wasn’t sure. The music had changed. We listened in now comfortable silence to Missy Higgins, “Where I Stood”:
Cuz I don't know, who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand, another hand upon you,
All I know is that I should
He started talking first, “You once asked me if I’d ever loved someone . . . loved someone like you loved Lisa. The answer is ‘yes’, more than once.” He took another shot of liquid courage. “Ianto you’ve gotta understand I have watched all of the people I’ve ever loved die in one way or another. It hasn’t gotten easier but I’ve learned to live with it. But it is all the more the reason I must protect you guys.”
“We can protect ourselves.”
“You guys are great and I couldn’t do this without you all but you don’t know how bad it can and will get. I was left with you all as my responsibility. All of you.” He sighed and tightened his arm around me. He must have heard me quietly sobbing because he said, “I am sorry about Lisa. Frankly I have never known someone that dedicated to me and may have been a different person if someone had been. But multiply that feeling times 12 and you get how I feel about Torchwood and its mission.”
I was tearing uncontrollably now. I was drowning in a mixture of regret and old wounds again. “I can’t deal with this!” I started to get up.
“No!” He forced me back down on the couch. “We’ve been avoiding each other and this for months. It has to stop now.”
“What do you expect, Jack?” I was back on the couch and somehow stuck there now. “You used the pterodactyl that brought us together to kill the woman I loved!”
Maybe it was the scotch but somehow the irony of that stopped an impeding fight. “Do you remember that day?” he asked.
Did I remember? That was the first time I came into contact with that scent. I hadn’t had such a good time with someone since . . . before Lisa was transformed. “Are you kidding, I nearly kissed you then.” Suddenly, his iPod was making the Carpenters sound like real music.
Love, look at the two of us
Strangers in many ways
We've got a lifetime to share
So much to say and as we go on from day to day
I'll feel you close to me
But time alone will tell
Let's take a lifetime to say
I knew you well
For only time will tell us so
And love may grow for all we know
“I know. Why didn’t you?” I shook my head at him and reached over for the bottle. I poured myself another shot and downed it quickly. “Whoya big boy! Watch out. This stuff is lethal.”
“I’m not a boy,” I said before I kissed him, full mouth, tongue and all.
I had my hand on his chest, holding him against the couch as I tasted those lips as I had been waiting to do for mouths. Nothing was stopping me. I felt emboldened and powerful. He tasted like honey off the comb and I was on a natural sugar high that I was determined wasn’t going to stop. Not this time.
But finally I did have to come up for air. I let go and looked at him hungrily. “Seriously,” his voice was husky and the scent was the most powerful it had ever been, “You need to be schooled otherwise things can be . . . unpleasant.” He stood up, “Come.”
He took me to his sleeping area. I had never been in this part of the Hub and was surprised by the sparseness. But I forgot this though as he started to undress me. My fear returned and I swear I had goose pumps by the time I was naked. He admired my body, smiled and kissed my forehead before gently encouraging me to laydown. I was afraid to watch him undress. I was so hard I could of exploded and embarrassed myself. So, I closed my eyes. Just beyond my ears, I heard David Gray slow-sing
Take your eyes off me
There's nothing here to see
Just trying to keep my head together
And as we make our vow
Let us remember how
There's nothing good that lasts forever
Time out on the running boards
We're running
Through a world that lost its meaning
Trying to find a way to love
This running
Ain't no kind of freedom
“Ianto,” he whispered, “Ianto look at me”. He was lying next to me naked now, pressed against my left side. I could feel his erection against my thigh and the rest of his body wrapping itself around me. I touched his skin with my fingertips. His flesh was like marble encased in sweetened buttermilk. Amazing. “Remember,” he whispered in my ear, “Sex should always be slow, especially the first time.”
“I’m hardly a virgin, you know,” I pouted.
I could hear him smiling against my neck but lost all thought as his hand moved down to my thigh. I shuddered and he smiled again. “Let your body tell me what you like. Let it talk.” His fingers were doing something, I don’t quite know what but I found myself falling into a cave of incasing pillows. Without realizing it, my body and his fingers were moving in a rhythm as the music shifted again- the Minuet from Hayden’s Symphony #47. That man had a strangely impressively musical taste. It was like he was willing the iPod to play just the right music for the right effect.
“Ssh!” he said, “Stop thinking.” Did my thoughts speak aloud or do I add psychic to his list of talents? I laughed which switched the mood again. He smiled, shook his head at me, and went with it. As the music changed to Parliament’s “Flashlight” and the Bee Gee’s “Staying Alive”, he temporarily gave up. Sitting up on his elbow, he told me stories about his exploits during the 70’s disco era when he lived between London and New York-Studio 54, white parties that turned into drug-sex orgies, amidst movie stars and rock legends. I love when he tells me stories about his adventures but that is for other writings . . . .
It's just a jump to the left
And then a step to the right
With your hands on your hips
You bring your knees in tight
But it's the pelvic thrust that really drives you insane,
Let's do the Time Warp again!
He was about to launch into another story of sex and other debauchery that now included a romp with Freddy Mercury, when he stopped himself. “He was a kind and loving person. No one deserves to die like he did and the way they treated him afterwards was disgusting.” Abruptly, Jack got out of bed and got the bottle of Longrow from the other room. I didn’t grasp his rage until much later as at the time I was trying to decide if his front or backsides were better. He caught me glaring and the light-hearted Jack returned. “Like what you see?” I nodded. “Well, Mr. Jones, Ianto Jones, it’s all yours for the night and maybe, if you’re lucky, part of the morning too.” He took a swig directly from the bottle.
He climbed on top of me and I knew the lessons were ready to begin. I was wishing he had given me some more of that scotch. Instead he kissed me aggressively with a full mouth. I groaned loudly and shifted from underneath him, our penises touching. Before I knew it, his hand was covering my cock. I nearly lost consciousness as he slowly stroked from my balls to my head. He stopped kissing me so I could breathe and watched my face shift cross different shapes of ecstasy.
“Do you wanna come, Ianto?”
“Yes, no, no not yet.”
“Good!” he said as he swept light kisses down my chest and his hand moved from my cock to my balls. This was a different feeling. He rolled them slowly between his fingers and I started shuddering all over again. But just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I felt his mouth over my head. I did a sudden inhale, tightening my thighs and he gently moved them apart again as he took me deeply. I felt pre-cum drizzle from within me and I struggled to regain control. He liked this. I felt the smile cross his lips but he didn’t miss a stroke. He fell into a steady rhythm now and I don’t remember ever feeling so relaxed.
“Count your breathes, Ianto,” I seem to have heard him saying but things were quite blurry at that moment. I did what he said though. I liked doing what he said. 1 breathe, 2 breathes, 3 breathes, 4 . . .
So carry me
I'm just a dead man
Lying on the carpet
Can't find a heartbeat
Make me breathe
I wanna be a new man
Tired of the old one
Out with the old plan
Jars of Clay, I think was playing now. More importantly, Jack’s mouth never left my cock. Suddenly, I felt something wet and slightly cold next then in the crack of my ass. It was his finger. “Keep breathing.” I don’t know how he talked while never letting my cock out of his mouth but what at first was an uncomfortable feeling was being stroked into an explosive organism.
It’s funny how I found my rhythm against that finger. “Jack!” I found myself crying out. “Oh my g-d.” Something atomic had just happened to my whole body. Everything was firing like amusement park fireworks. My skin, no, my soul was on fire. I found myself holding his head down directly and he was still smiling
He sat up finally. “You young men!” he teased, “Just so eager.” He gave a slightly smug grin, kissed my mouth such I tasted what was left of my cum on his lips then cuddled me. He must of known how confused and vulnerable I was feeling because he said little else while he held me.
after my picture fades and darkness has
turned to gray
watching through windows--you're wondering
if I'm OK
secrets stolen from deep inside
the drum beats out of time—
We laid there in silence, grasping at what Cyndi Lauper’s words meant for us. In the 21st Century, everything changed for Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness. Something was allowed out, something was expressed that could not be taken back. Throughout hundreds of similar and even more precious encounters and up until now, while the 456 threaten the Children of Earth, I can say that moment in his bed was the only time I ever heard Jack say, “I love you.”
No comments:
Post a Comment