ladygray99 (ladygray99) wrote,

FIC: Proof, Torchwood, Jack/Ianto FRAO

Title: Proof
Author: ladygray99 
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, OCs/OCs
Rating: FRAO (NC-17)
Summery: Ianto was raised to think sex is dirty/bad/wrong...and he believes it, until Jack teaches him otherwise.
Warnings/Spoilers: A little talk of child abuse, slight spoilers for TW 1.01, 1.04, 1.06 and 2.12
Notes: This was written for rounds_of_kink Prompted by thefannishwaldo .  This is my first fic in this fandom so please be gentle and all feedback is greatly appreciated and desired. I was going for PWP but ended up with a lot more plot and a lot less smut then I planed.
Beta: planejane .


Jack knew it was a sad excuse to see Ianto with his boxers off but Ianto had rebuffed every move Jack had made for months.  He was sure Ianto was interested on some level.  He had very clear memories of Ianto growing hard against him the night they caught the pterodactyl but Ianto seemed the only person on earth completely resistant to his charms.

 Ianto had been cleaning up after a weevil attack when another showed up.  A tussle and a lucky swipe by the weevil meant that Ianto was sitting in the med bay, and bleeding profusely from a slash on his inner thigh.  Owen hooked up a unit of whole blood, pain killers and antibiotics to Ianto before stripping off the trousers and pressure bandage.

 “You’re fucking lucky, mate.” Own said as he sprayed on a clotting agent and began putting in stitches. “Any deeper and it would have nicked your femoral artery.  You’d have been a dead man in 30 seconds.  ‘Cause if you’d ducked to the left instead of the right you would have gone out in a far worse way.”

 Jack cringed but Ianto only stared stoically at the ceiling of the Hub.  Jack tilted his head and noticed something as the light reflected oddly off of Ianto’s painfully pale skin. 

 “Ianto, where did you get those scars?” Jack asked.

 “What scars, Sir?” Ianto answered flatly.

 “The ones on your thighs, Ianto.”

 “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Sir?”

 “He means the ruddy thick scars you’ve got going right across your thighs and dick, that I was being polite enough not to mention, but look like the one’s I’ve got on my arse from an old school head master. Except yours are twice as wide and fucking deep.” Leave it to Owen to get to the point.

 “I had an unfortunate habit in my youth that my father saw fit to correct me of.” Ianto answered primly still staring at the ceiling.

 “Fuck.” Owen said softly, not looking up from his stitching.

 “What was the habit?” Jack asked carefully but was somewhat suspicious.

 “I hardly think that is any of your business, Sir.”

 “He caned your genitals, Ianto.  The only thing I can think of that would warrant that might be gleefully killing puppies, and you don’t seem the type.”

 “Fuck off Jack,” Owen said with a chuckle. “He’s so the type. Too repressed. Tea-boy’s probably got a stack of dead hookers in the basement.”

 Jack was somewhat worried that Ianto didn’t leap to his own defence on that one. 

 “My father did not feel I should be engaging in acts unbefitting a gentleman. Even in private.”

 “He catch you wanking off or something?” Owen asked.

 Ianto became even more still and flushed slightly. “Seeing as how it’s not medically relevant I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

 “Well as your doctor I can state that less than three ejaculations a week seriously increases your odds of prostate cancer.”

 “I work for Torchwood 3.  My current live expectancy is 35, if I’m lucky.  If I live long enough to need a prostate exam I will be greatly amused.”

 “Just for that you’re getting one with your next physical.”

 “He shouldn’t have done that to you, Ianto.” Jack said cutting through the banter.

 “He was only making sure I was aware of the inappropriateness and unseemliness of sexual acts outside of marriage and procreation.  He was only being a good father.”  The tone in Ianto’s voice clearly showed that he believed the words that had just come out of his mouth and had quite literally had that belief beaten into him.

 “Holy fuck.” Owen muttered as he began bandaging over his stitches.

 Jack’s jaw had dropped at Ianto’s words.  He suddenly wanted nothing more than to whisk Ianto away to some place with a big bed and high thread count sheets and fuck him into next Sunday.  No wonder his moves kept failing with Ianto.  The man was probably a virgin by choice and planned to be on his wedding day and god help the poor bride.  The sex was going to be bad and she’d probably end up with ten kids.

 “Ianto, get cleaned up and go home.  I don’t want to see you until ten, you’ve lost blood.”

 “No more than I’ve lost in the past, Sir.  I’ll be in at six.”


 Jack had been wracking his brain for weeks as to how to get past Ianto’s epic sexual repression, for the poor man’s own good if nothing else, when the key more or less dropped from the sky.

 “Sir, if you have a moment?” Ianto asked standing at the door to Jack’s office.

 “For you Ianto, always.”

 “I’ve been attempting to clean up some of the archives and I found a box of these.” Ianto held out his hand.  There was a piece of blue plastic that looked like a thick poker chip. “They’ve been labelled as game chips but they put out a small electric field and I think they may have been incorrectly filed.”

 Jack grinned and snatched the disk from Ianto’s hand. “We have a box of these?”

 “Yes Sir, approximately two hundred.”

 “I love these.  Don’t tell Owen we’ve got them.  He’ll be useless for a month.”

 “What are they, Sir?”

 Jack read the writing on the side of the chip. “This is a very interesting 33rd century cultural by product.  Billions will be made.  I’m not surprised we’ve picked up a few.”

 “What is it, Sir?” Ianto asked with a bit of exasperation.

 “Sit down and I’ll show you.” Jack grabbed the spare chair and dragged it next to his. Ianto sat primly. Jack put his thumbs on either side of the disc and gave it a twist, before putting it on his desk.  A screen was projected from it and on it two men, a blonde and a redhead, were kissing passionately. 

 Ianto rolled his eyes. “Pornography.” He said with more distain than any emotionally healthy male should have for the word.

 Ianto began to stand, Jack put his hand firmly on Ianto’s shoulder forcing him back down. “It’s not porn.  This is Robert and Jeff and this is their tenth wedding anniversary.”

 “Home made pornography.”

 “Not even close, Ianto.” On the screen the two men were carefully stripping clothes from each other. “It’s called a proof chip.”

 “Proof of what?”

 “Love. Life. See in the 32nd century marriage mainly became a business deal.  Love was what you had for your dog or mistress.  So when people did marry for love it was looked upon very cynically.  So some kinky sod decided to record his wedding night with his true love and sent it to all his friends.  Proof what he had was real.  It became quite the fad for a couple of centuries, especially once there was a bunch of flair up border skirmishes and some internal problems.  It became proof that the people involved were still alive.”

 Jeff, the red head, was being slowly tongue bathed by his husband.

 “We shouldn’t be watching this.”

 “Yes we should.  It was made to be watched.” Jack touched the edge of the screen, text came up.  “This is Robert and Jeff, ten years together, met in school, didn’t like each other at first.  They have two kids, Robert Jr. who’s six and Katie who’s three. Jeff must have carried them both.”

 “How can you tell?”

 Jack pointed to Jeff’s stomach which was being gently stroked by Robert. “Stretch marks, he probably nursed them to.”

 Ianto looked slightly green. “Men in the 33rd century can nurse?”

 Jack chuckled. “Men in the 21st century can nurse.  Quick shot of hormones, suckling baby and all matter of dormant cells kick in.”

 “Good to know.”

 Jack could see Ianto shift uncomfortably, obviously wanting to leave but not looking away from the screen.  Jeff came under the knowledgeable hand of Robert.  Ianto looked away quickly as Robert licked the cum from his fingers.

 “That’s disgusting.” Ianto said.  Jack reached out and twisted Ianto’s head back to the screen.

 “No, it’s beautiful.  Look at them Ianto.  No act, it’s all real.  They’re saying, ‘Look at us. Ten years and we’re still alive, still in love, we still rock in the sack.’” Jack tilted his head to the side and let out a low whistle. “’We’re still flexible.’  And that’s after two kids, I’m impressed.”

 Ianto was flushed bright red and a quick glance told Jack he was aroused.  Robert came deep in Jeff with a shout.  The two men then collapsed and cuddled against each other sharing soft kisses and strokes.  The screen disappeared.

 “That was perverse.” Ianto said, but his voice was shaking.

 “It was beautiful.”

 “It’s…sinful.” Ianto’s hand clenched against his perfectly pressed trousers.

 “Ianto, I’ve got a bit of a reputation as a galactic slut.  Well earned I might add.  And I’ve found that when you get right down to it, the only real sin surrounding sex is forcing someone or lying about your age, health or reproductive status.  That was two men who won’t be born for twelve hundred years shouting to the universe that they are alive.”

 Ianto quickly stood up.  Jack handed him the chip.  “I want every one of those properly catalogued and archived.  Sometimes there are human alien couples so you’ll need to check them all.”

 Ianto was shaking. “Yes, Sir.” He said quickly and made a run for it. 

 Jack grinned. ‘Two hundred.  Definitely need to hide them from Owen.’


 Jack had nothing to do.  OK, actually he had lots to do but it was all really boarding.  The rift was annoyingly quiet.  Where was a weevil scare when you need one?  Jack wandered down to archiving hoping that flirting with the chronically repressed Ianto would provide some amusement.  He found Ianto at a wood desk deep in the archives.

 “Whatcha working on?” Jack asked.

 Ianto jumped. “I am attempting to comply with your orders, Sir,” Ianto said, holding out a handful of proof chips form a box.  “However I do not speak the language and I do not recognize the few alien species I have seen.”

 Jack grinned. “It’s just good old fashion 33rd century English, Ianto.”

 “We’ll I’m afraid the language has shifted beyond my immediate comprehension.”

 “Well let’s see if I can help.” Jack pulled up a box and sat next to Ianto. ‘Now this is how to spend an afternoon.’ Jack picked a chip from the box at random, turned it on and read the text supplemental.  Ianto tried to keep his eyes on a note pad as Jack read and a woman who looked a lot like Tosh was undressed by a man who looked a little like Owen.

 “Jake and Heather.  Five years.  Heather’s a vet and Jake is a house husband and writer.” Jake dipped his fingers into Heather and brought them to his lips before kissing her.  Ianto made a strange little coughing noise.  Jack turned off the recording and grabbed another.

 “Aaron and Ian. Wedding night.” Jack turned it on.  There was a little static, the recording jumped and flickered with damage but Jack could still make out two large, dark men, tumbling about on a large bed.  Both were hung like porn stars. “Damn!” Jack muttered to himself.

 “I’ll note the recording is damaged, Sir.” Ianto said flatly.

 Jack looked over at Ianto.  There was a little extra color in his cheeks, he noted.

 “Next, Sara and Flora, wedding night.” Jack brought up the text supplemental as two tall, fair women undressed each other with much giggling. “Oh this is interesting; an arranged marriage.”

 “I thought these were a reaction against arranged marriages.”

 “Yes, well, it appears Sara and Flora were originally against it but they were both on the rebound, met several months before the wedding, became quite good friends, had lots in common, figured there were worse things than marrying your friend and it beat the dating scene.” Sara and Flora tumbled onto a bed with tentative kissing and friendly tickles.

 “Well I wish them luck.”

 Jack yanked out the next from the box. “Bob and Dora, thirty years.”

 “Thirty?” Ianto said with some trepidation.

 “Don’t worry, sixty’s the new thirty.” Bob and Dora didn’t go in for acrobatics but they both looked like a well-aged forty.  There was a hint of grey in them, a couple of lines but they were beautiful, at least to Jack’s eyes, completely comfortable with their own bodies and each other.  Jack read the supplemental. “Thirty years, four kids, oldest two in business, third in college, youngest only twelve.  She was a bit of a surprise,” Jack said with a chuckle.

 John dropped between Dora’s legs, nipping at her soft thighs before diving in. Ianto had his eyes firmly on his note pad.  Jack turned off the recording and grabbed another.

 “Don, Matt and Vickie.  Four years, six months?  Well I’m curious.”

 “A three way marriage?”

 Jack just grinned.  Don, Matt and Vickie appeared on screen.  Vickie was pregnant and smiling brightly.  “Ah.” Jack brought up the text. “Four year, six months ‘cause the doctor said no sex after next week.”  Jack glanced over at Ianto. His eyes were wide and glued to the projection.  Matt leaned over and whispered something to his wife’s stomach.  Jack chuckled.

 “What did he say?”

 “Go to sleep little one so we can ravish your mummy.”  Jack let the recording play on occasionally glancing over at Ianto.  The archivist seemed fascinated by Matt and Don making slow careful love, first to their wife, then each other.  He heard Ianto gasp ever so slightly as the two men brought each other to completion under Vickie’s watchful gaze.  Ianto’s note pad was empty, he’d just been watching.  Jack looked through the box for more male couples.  With any luck a little more exposure might have Ianto loosening up a bit.

 “Alexander and Kenneth, five years.”  Alexander was tall and slim but broad across the shoulders.  Kenneth was smaller, mostly Asian looking except for the dark, metallic gold hair and eyes.  “Make a note, Kenneth is half Trilaxian, affecting the pigmentation of body hair and eyes.”  Ianto quickly scribbled on his note pad his eyes flickering back to the screen.  Jack knew that being half Trilaxian also affected the pigmentation of something else, but Jack was going to let the recording show Ianto that.

 Alex and Ken were playful, wrestling around the bed, pinning each other and wiggling free.  Ken’s cries were musical, having obviously inherited his Trilaxian parent’s voice as well.  Alex finally got the upper hand and slid into Ken.  Ken came almost immediately, spraying a shimmering gold liquid between the two bodies. Alex gathered it up and licked it enthusiastically from his fingers before taking his own pleasure.  Jack could hear the hitch in Ianto’s breathing.

 Jack pulled out another chip with a wicked grin.  He hadn’t had this much fun in a while.

 “Ianto, look, our old friends Jeff and Robert, twenty years.  What are the odds?  Let’s see if Jeff can still do that thing with his tongue.”

 Ianto rolled his eyes.  Jack turned on the chip.  Jeff and Robert sat on a couch; they looked old, older than a simple decade should have aged them.  A teenaged boy sat with them.  He had Jeff’s wild red hair and Robert’s wide blue eyes.  Robert began talking holding Jeff’s hand tight.  Jack locked his jaw.

 “What is he saying?” Ianto asked.

 “They lost Katie.” Jack said tightly.  “A year ago.  Their 19th anniversary.  She was caught in the cross fire during the New Calcutta riots.  She was twelve.”  Jeff hid his face in Robert’s shoulder. “It’s been a hard year, especially for Jeff who carried her.  There were problems during the pregnancy.  The doctors wanted him to terminate but he refused, carried her to term.  It’s been a hard year but they’re pushing on.  She was so full of life; they’re pushing on for her.  She wouldn’t have wanted them to stop living.”

 Jack felt silly, a small part of him suddenly mourning for a girl that would not be born for over a millennium.

 Ianto reached out and turned off the recording.  “It’s two.  Owen will be wanting his coffee,” he said before getting up and leaving Jack alone in the archives.


 It was later, much later. After Suzie, after Lisa, after mad cannibals.  Ianto stood in Jack’s office, his hands shaking, dark circles under his eyes, bruises still livid on his cheeks.

 “I need…” Ianto croaked. “I…”

 “What is it?” Jack asked carefully.

 “Proof.”  Ianto stuttered.  “I need proof, need to know…” Jack moved around his desk and stood in front of Ianto.  Ianto lowered his eyes, his whole body starting to shake.  Jack reached out, laying his hand against Ianto’s cheek.  “Please, Jack, I don’t know how…”

 “Shhhh, it’s OK, I’ll take care of you. Such good care of you.”


 Jack titled Ianto head up and ever so gently pressed his lips against Ianto’s.  Ianto gasped and made a noise that was almost the prelude to a sob.

 “Come with me.” Jack said once he broke away from the kiss.  Ianto didn’t move. “Come on.  I said I’ll take care of you.”

 Jack took Ianto gently by the hand and led him from the office into the depths of the hub.

 “Where are we going?” Ianto asked, his voice more sure sounding, but not by much.

 “Some place safe.” They took twists and turns that Jack knew well until they got to a rusted old door.  Jack flipped open a panel and lay his hand against it.  It used to have a combination lock until Jack had tried to get in drunk and set off the security system.  The door swung open and the lights came on, warm and soft.

 “Where are we?” Ianto asked looking around the large room.

 “My apartment.” Jack shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the coat stand.  Really the room wasn’t much to look at.  A desk and some book shelves.  Various heads of Torchwood 3 had shunted his living space around the Hub, a few had even gone so far as to throw him out all together.

 This particular room had been given to him in 1965 and Jack had, somewhat inadvisably, decorated to the tastes of the time, as evident by the lava lamp beginning to warm up in the corner.

 Ianto poked the lamp.

 “Hey, that’s a collector’s item.”

 Even though Jack still came down every few months, usually for a book, most of the furniture had large dust sheets.  Jack pulled them off the couch, the wing-backed chair and the bed.  The large bed that had, in ‘68, hosted the first and only all Torchwood 3 orgy, after which a note was put in his file that 51st century biology and pot brownies don’t mix.

 Ianto had frozen in the middle of the room at the sight of the bed.  Jack approached him carefully, not wanting to spook him.  He reached out and gently ran his fingers through Ianto’s hair, letting the back of his nails run along Ianto’s scalp.  Ianto closed his eyes and sagged a little.


 “I told you I’d take care of you. I’ll give you all the proof you need.”

 Jack stepped close and kissed Ianto again, still running his fingers through the short hair.  After a minute he slipped his free arm around Ianto’s waist pulling him close.  He could feel Ianto tremble.  Jack let his tongue dart out and lick at Ianto’s lips.  Ianto gasped and Jack took the opening to slide his tongue against Ianto’s teeth.  Ianto was stiff for long moments before he began to kiss back.

 Jack smiled into the kiss.  Ianto was at least well schooled in this, though obviously as a prelude to marriage and ‘proper’ sexual relations.

 Jack trailed a hand up and began to loosen Ianto’s tie.  Ianto jumped back and Jack gave a soft smile.

 “How about if I go first?” Jack carefully shrugged off his braces and undid the buttons down his rich blue shirt letting if fall open.  He was tempted to make a strip tease out of it but was more than a little afraid of sending Ianto running, and Jack didn’t think he could handle that.  Not when he was so close.  At any rate, judging by the way Ianto was practically hyperventilating, adding spice wasn’t necessary.

 Jack shrugged off his shirt and pulled the vest over his head, then stepped close to Ianto again.  He picked up Ianto’s hand and placed it against the bare skin of his chest, right over his heart.

 “See.  Skin, nerves, muscles, blood, sweat.  Same as you, same as every human.  There’s nothing wrong with a million years of evolution.”

 Jack let go of Ianto’s hand and to Jack’s delight Ianto left it, fingers splayed across Jack’s chest.  Jack reached out and slowly undid Ianto’s tie, then slid open each button on the carefully pressed black shirt.  Ianto’s chest was heaving still as the shirt fell open.

 “Oh, Ianto. Dillynaidd.”

 A smile teased at Ianto’s lips. “You speak Welsh.”

 Jack took a half step closer and slipped Ianto’s shirt from his shoulders. “Just dirty words and pick up lines.”  Jack carefully laid the shirt on the wing-backed chair.  Ianto fretting about wrinkles would kill the mood pretty quick.  Jack ran his fingers along Ianto’s chest.  Ianto gasped and closed his eyes leaning into the touch a little. 

 “Can you feel that?” Jack asked. “My skin against your skin, stimulating your nerves up to your brain.  Your brain shouting with joy, releasing endorphins, serotonin, adrenalin, your heart, your lungs, jumping to catch up with those feelings.  That’s life Ianto. Can you feel that? That is you alive.”

 Ianto whimpered a little and leaned deeper into Jack’s touch.  Jack felt a quick stab of hatred for Ianto’s father, repressing a poor boy so much that he was on the verge of falling apart from a simple touch.  Jack went in for another kiss.  This time Ianto kissed back without hesitation.  Hands began to roam across bare torsos.  Jack wanted to lose himself in Ianto’s warm, firm hands but knew he had to keep the show moving.  With one eye open he carefully steered them in the direction of the bed, until they bumped against it.  Ianto jumped back again and Jack saw a flash of fear.

 “Are you…” The stutter was back. “Are you going to…to take me, Jack?”

 Jack smiled. “No.” Ianto’s head shot up. “Well not yet.  I take you now when you’re scared and vulnerable you’re only going to hate me in the morning and hate yourself.  I’m not going to have that.”

 “Jack…” Ianto pleaded though he probably wasn’t sure for what.

 “Shhhh.  I told you.  I’m going to take care of you.  I’m going to make you feel so alive. You’re just a little behind the rest of the class and need some catching up first.”  Jack sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his shoes then wiggled out of the rest of his clothes.  Ianto stared at him.  Jack didn’t pose or preen.  He just sat naked on the bed with no shame. 

 “Just a body, Ianto.  Same as yours.”  Jack patted the bed next to him, Ianto edged forward and sat his eyes flickering between his folded hands and Jack’s body. Jack chuckled and picked up Ianto’s hand again, pressing it to his chest.  Ianto’s hand was still for long moments before it began to creep.  Jack let every flicker of pleasure dance across his face for Ianto to see as his hand engaged in its solitary exploration of Jack’s body.

 Once Ianto began moving more boldly Jack reached out and returned the movements letting his fingers ghost across Ianto’s tight nipples.  Ianto jumped and gasped at that, but didn’t move away.  Jack was tempted to go lower but was sure one touch and Ianto was likely to come right in his trousers, and that would definitely put a dampener on the proceedings.  And knowing Ianto he’d stick Torchwood for the dry cleaning bill.

 Jack let Ianto explore for several more minutes before pulling back and shifting up the bed where he let himself lounge back against the padded headboard spreading his legs slightly.

 “Let me see you Ianto.” Jack said in a level tone, making it sound just a little like an order.  Ianto blushed. “I’ve seen you half naked before; believe me you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

 “Yes, Sir.” Ianto mumbled.  Jack felt a little thrill at Ianto calling him Sir in bed and made a note to explore that later.  Ianto stood and turned away from Jack.  Jack bit back a groan as Ianto’s pale, firm, round arse was revealed. Ianto carefully folded his trousers then turned to face Jack, his whole body flushed bright red and his hands attempting to hide a not unimpressive erection.

 “Oh, Ianto.  You have no idea how long I’ve waited to see you like this.  You are exquisite.”

 Ianto’s flush deepened. “Thank you, Sir.” He mumbled.

 “Call me Jack.  For now.”  Jack spread his legs a little more. “Come on Ianto.  Lesson one in how to be alive.  Come here.  Lie against my chest.  Between my legs.” The fear came back to Ianto’s eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. Tonight I’m only taking care of you.”

 Ianto hesitated before slowly climbing on the bed and moving towards Jack, still trying to preserve his modesty. 

 With some careful guiding from Jack, Ianto settled his back against Jack’s chest and rested his head against Jack’s shoulder where Jack could whisper softly in his ear.

 “There.” Jack whispered lightly. “Isn’t this nice?”  Ianto gave a half chuckle that reverberated along Jack’s body. “Now, lesson one.”  Jack laid his hand over Ianto’s and wove his fingers in.  He carefully guided Ianto’s hand to his own body.  “Before you know anyone else’s body, you have to know your own.” Jack whispered in Ianto’s ear. “You have to know what gives you chills and rushes, what curls your toes and makes your head spin.” Jack ran Ianto’s hand down his torso and thighs, across his nipples and up to his neck. Ianto was beginning to moan.  “This is your body, Ianto.  It is a gorgeous, thing, with a billion little pieces designed for the sole purpose of giving you pleasure.”  Ianto’s eyes had fluttered shut and Jack worked Ianto’s hand down slowly, carefully until he was able to close it around Ianto’s cock.

 Ianto’s eyes leapt open and he tried to get up. “No!”

 Jack flung his free arm around Ianto’s chest holding him in place. “Yes.” Jack hissed. “Nothing is going to happen, Ianto.  You’re not going to go blind, you’re not going to hell, no puppies are going to die.”

 “It’s wrong.” Ianto sobbed out, trying to struggle even as Jack carefully worked both his and Ianto’s hand slowly along Ianto’s cock.

 “No, Ianto.  It’s not.  What he did to you was wrong.  This is natural, this is healthy.  He should never have hurt you.”

 “He loved me; he was trying to fix me.”  Tears were running down Ianto’s face.

 Jack held back serious anger as he had a good idea as to what exactly Old Man Jones was trying to ‘fix’. “I’m sure he loved you, but what he did was wrong and I’m sure he only did it because it was done to him.  It doesn’t make it right.”

 Jack increased his speed.  Ianto stopped struggling but still sobbed.  “This is life Ianto.  This is you, alive.  You wanted proof.  This is proof.  This is who and what you are in your purist form and it is perfect and beautiful.” Ianto’s hips began to buck. “Cry out, my beautiful Ianto.  Tell the universe that you are alive.”

 Ianto’s body arched and he came with a shout, the thick cum squeezing between his and Jack’s fingers, dripping across his stomach.

 Ianto sobbed and shivered in Jack’s arms, half fading out as Jack stroked his chest and murmured soft endearments in a dozen half-remembered languages.

 Jack tapped his wrist strap.  The lights faded down and the room warmed up a bit.

 “I’m messy.” Ianto murmured looking down at himself.

 “Yes, you are.” Jack chuckled. “Rest a little.  I’ll show you how to clean up later.  It’s almost as much fun as getting messy to begin with.”

Wash it Away


Tags: *favorite, fandom: torchwood, fic, pairing: jack/ianto, rating: nc17, rok

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