Title: Nooks and Crannies
By: sqyd
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Owen, Tosh
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Thrace Warning Level 5
Word count: 600
Disclaimers: I don't own Torchwood or any of the characters. If I did, I'd take better care of them.
Summary: Ianto’s moving on.
Beta: The amazing and tireless Rootesie. Naturally, I couldn’t stop messing with it. All mistakes are mine alone.
Notes: Sideways from Skin of Your Teeth

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"Push harder, Jack," Ianto grunts.

"Yeah Harkness, put your weight into it," Owen wheezes.

"Hey, mind your own end, I'm pushing as hard as I can," Jack grunts back.

"Oh Ianto, it's really nice and big," Gwen coos, appearing unexpectedly at the bedroom door. Tosh peeks around her, silently surveying the three sweating men.

Ianto would probably blush if he weren’t already flushed from the exertion. This really wasn't his idea. He doesn’t mind Jack, though he hadn’t actually expected him to be here. This was supposed to be a solo affair. It’s all Gwen's fault. She overheard Ianto on the phone, arguing with the moving company over their exorbitant fees, and naturally decided to intervene. She barged in, squashed all of Ianto's protestations, and didn't stop until the whole team was organized to help Ianto to move into his new flat.

He doesn’t even have that much stuff, just a few odd pieces of furniture, mostly boxes of clothes, books and kitchen things. His old place came partially furnished, and that included the bed, so he had to get new one. Unfortunately, it arrived while he was in the borrowed van with Owen and Gwen, leaving Jack and Tosh at the new flat. Ianto figures that Jack has lived underground too long not to realize that it’s not practical to have the bed put under the window. So here they are, the three of them trying to move said piece of furniture to the opposite wall, and it’s bloody heavy. With a final shove they move it in place, and straighten up with exaggerated groans.

Ianto’s just glad that he can now shoo them all out of his bedroom. He knows he should be grateful, but he doesn’t exactly enjoy this mass-invasion of his private space. There’s a natural bottleneck in the doorway as they’re trying to file out all at once. Taking advantage, Jack pushes closer to Ianto than he normally would when the others are around. His left hand slyly slides along the denim-clad curve of Ianto’s arse, fingertips reaching into the warm cocoon between his thighs. Ianto smothers a surprised little yelp, and as his pulse quickens he knows with a clairvoyant’s lucidity how the rest of the evening will play out.

Jack will suggest that they find the nearest pub, thus earning Ianto’s gratitude for getting the crowd out of his flat. In the pub there will be small talk, getting racier with every drink. Under the table Jack will keep one proprietary hand on Ianto’s thigh, keeping him in a suspended state of readiness the whole time. When they split up Jack will make a show of driving back towards the Hub, but by the time Ianto walks back to his new flat Jack will already be there, half-undressed, in Ianto’s unlit bedroom. He’ll be a dark figure silhouetted against the window, only the white of his eyes and teeth glinting in the dim light. With a wolfish grin he’ll push Ianto down the new bed, strip him naked and tie him up with a couple of his own ties. He’ll have found them easily – they sit in a box on top of the dresser, labeled “Ties & Things”.

Once he has Ianto stretched and taut, Jack will take his time to explore all the little unnamed and underappreciated parts of Ianto’s body, from the tender spot behind his ear to the dip under his anklebone. Once Ianto’s begging and cursing him he’ll ride Ianto till he comes so hard he whites out.

Ianto stops, locks eyes with Jack for a second, then his eyes flicker to the box on the dresser. Jack follows his gaze and the corner of his mouth curls up. Ianto can feel more than hear the low rumble in Jack’s throat, like a distant earthquake. Jack’s hand slides up on Ianto’s bum, and squeezes in agreement.