Title: Ordinary Obsession
Author: sqyd
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC 17
Warnings: smut
Spoilers: none
Word count: 900
Disclaimers: I don't own Torchwood or any of the characters. If I did, I'd take better care of them.
Summary: Jack has kinks.
Beta: Rootesie of the Naughty Limericks.

**********************

"Oh, that's just unsanitary!" Ianto exclaimed.

He was propped on his elbows, gazing down on his own stomach, on Jack's hand splayed over it, his fingers playfully spreading their combined cum around, till it was just one un-sexy messy of stickiness and hair. Like a child frolicking in mud. Jack hoisted himself up onto Ianto, closing in for a sloppy kiss, all the while wriggling his midsection making their mess even messier. Ianto couldn't help but laugh into the kiss, but since somebody had to be an adult in this relationship, and at this moment Jack most certainly wasn't going to be it, he gently shoved Jack off him. For the time he refused to consider the ramification of thinking about their arrangement as a relationship. He could return to it another time. Or not. He moved to scoot off the bed, but Jack held on to his arm. Ianto tugged.

"C'mon Jack, shower. Join me?"

Jack obliged with a toothy grin.

**********************

It was a hot day in Cardiff, and even the Hub, far below the ground was getting stuffy. The heat made everyone tetchy. Jack suggested a wet T-shirt contest to cool down, but there were no takers.

"You have no sense of adventure!" He pouted.

Owen, elbow-deep in Hoix guts looked up at him incredulously.

"Why don't I make some ice coffee?" Ianto cut in before tempers could flare. Gwen and Tosh looked at him gratefully, and Owen grumbled something that wasn't entirely disagreeable. Ianto rolled up his sleeves and set to work.

Jack kept loitering about, getting underfoot, 'accidentally' brushing up against him several times. He was about as subtle as a two-ton rhino in a petting zoo. By midday, when the temperature rose to its highest, Ianto retreated into the pleasant coolness of the archives. He wasn't alone long. Down there, away from the others, Jack gave up all pretence, and just pressed him up against the nearest filing cabinet without much preamble. Ianto saw no reason to complain.

It was one of those quick and dirty affairs - again, no objections. Ianto was standing there braced against the metal case, trousers and briefs around his ankles. Jack was wrapped around him, in him, one hand under his shirt, on his chest pulling him tighter, another hand pumping his cock. It flickered through Ianto's mind how absurd life was. Being fucked stupid by his very manly boss, in the sub-basement of a secret base of secret organization was not the direction he had ever expected life to take him. Not that he complained. The sounds Jack's relentless pounding brought out of Ianto would have made aging porn stars blush. They came grunting and shaking, clutching to each other and the filing cabinet to stay upright.

"Fuck."

"Yeah." Jack agreed.

The rest of the day went by quietly.

**********************

Ianto's favorite post-coital repose was spooning. It was comfortable; limbs, joints, curvy and straight bits of their human puzzle naturally arranged themselves into a snug fit. There was no possibility of someone's knee getting disagreeably close to someone else's groin. It was also very intimate having your lover draped over you, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck. One of Jack's arms curled around Ianto, and the large hand was lazily roaming over his chest. It never failed to amuse Ianto how much Jack loved to linger in the afterglow. Although - judging from the stiff member pressed against Ianto's buttocks - this time it was more of an in-between-glow. Jack's wandering fingers burrowed themselves into the relatively thick hair of Ianto's chest, midway between his nipples. As his own heartbeat sped up, a comprehension dawned on Ianto.

"Jack?"

"Mmmm?"

"Is everyone in the 51st century as hairless as you?"

"Yes, or even more so." (Jack still had hair in a few places.) "Evolution."

"And you have a thing for body hair?"

"Mmmm."

"Isn't it repulsive to you?"

"Quite the contrary."

"I must look like an ape to you." Ianto objected.

"It's not like that at all. It's exotic, it's kinky - like tentacles."

Jack's hand glided down to Ianto's navel. His index finger ran a circle around it, then slid along the happy trail to Ianto's crotch. Little Ianto cocked its head up to greet the weary traveler.

"So half the men on Earth are as alluring to you as girls in tube tops? And I thought I was special."

"I don't like tube tops - no mystery. And you are special." Unhurried fingers were playing with Ianto's balls (hairy) while Jack went on. "I have a whole collection of Ianto kinks: the way pinstripe stretches over your arse, silk ties, especially the red ones, the way you say 'sir', button nose, the wicked curve of your lips when you smile, the look of daggers in your eyes when you are really, really angry, the way you squirm when I do this..."

Ianto's hips twitched in illustration.

"So, tentacles, eh?" He whimpered.

"Mmm... you should try them sometime."

Jack pulled back, and the cool air hitting his back made Ianto shudder. Behind him Jack was casting about for something, but Ianto remained as he was. Jack rolled back to him, shifted position slightly, nudged Ianto's thigh (also hairy). The slippery fingers stealing between his cheeks reminded Ianto of his favorite thing about spooning: It frequently led to sporking.

**********************

At the next team meeting Ianto made sure he sat in the direct line of sight of Jack. The sleeves of his shirt (blue like Jack's eyes) were rolled up. At one point he started absentmindedly rub his arm. Slender fingers idly brushed the sparse dark hair. When the meeting was over and they all filed out, Jack remained sitting behind the conference table. Ianto turned back from the door.

"If you need me, I'll be in the archives, sir." He smiled and walked out.


Fin


A/N Spooning - Sporking