Title: Slow To Burn
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 50ficlets
Prompt: 1, Burn
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

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Ianto slid his arms around the Doctor's waist from behind as the Time Lord bent over the console of the Tardis, nuzzling his cheek against the other man's neck. He didn't expect a response; he just wanted to be close to his lover.

His desire for the Doctor had been simmering all day, but now it was reaching a point where it was threatening to rise higher and boil over. He had no idea if the other man felt the same, but he would soon find out.

The Time Lord leaned back against him, closing his eyes and sighing softly. Ianto tightened his arms around that slender waist, pulling the Doctor closer against him as he felt his pulse shift into a higher gear, his heart starting to thump against his chest.

His desire for the Doctor was always like this; a slow burn that built up until he felt that he coudn't control it any more, that it had to be unleashed.

He wasn't going to force the Doctor into anything he didn't want, but that desire was running hot now; it had risen from a simmer to a boil, the blood coursing white-hot through his veins, every fiber of his being insisting that he wanted this man.

One hand moved down the front of the Doctor's body, pushing up the fabric of the t-shirt he wore, his fingers splaying over the other man's stomach, moving over the soft skin. The Doctor moaned softly, arching his back, rocking his hips forward.

The next few moments were a blur to Ianto; how had he managed to get the Doctor undressed so quickly? His own clothes seemed too restrictive, chafing against his skin; he needed to get out of them, to be bare next to the man he loved.

It didn't matter that they were in the control room; they'd made love there before, though this time, Ianto didn't intend to take the Doctor on the floor.

He could still remember the other man's admonishment about that -- though he could understand why the Doctor hadn't been too fond of being under him on the floor. He hadn't realized until it was over that the pattern of the metal floor was imprinted on the Time Lord's ass.

Ah well, he thought, smiling inwardly, that had only lasted for a few hours. The imprint of the floor had faded, but the memory of how good it had felt to make love to the Doctor there in the control room had stayed in his mind for far longer.

The Doctor had turned in his arms, to tug at his shirt and attempt to help him undress. "You're wearing too many clothes," the Time Lord whispered, his dark eyes meeting Ianto's. The desire he saw written in that gaze took Ianto's breath away.

"I know," he answered when he could speak again. "Give me a moment, love." His hands were already working to remove his clothes as quickly as he could.

It only took a few seconds for him to be as bare as the Doctor was; Ianto's arms slid around the Time Lord again, pulling the other man close against him, reveling in the feel of flesh against flesh, feeling his heart accelerate when the Doctor's arms slid around him.

Without thinking of what he was doing, Ianto tightened his arms around the Doctor, lifting him onto the console. The Time Lord's eyes widened in surprise at first -- but then he leaned back, his arms still around Ianto's waist, his dark gaze meeting his lover's.

"Make love to me," he whispered. "Ianto, I need you." His long legs wrapped around the young man's waist, pulling Ianto close to him and tilting his head back to look up into the young man's blue-grey eyes. Their gazes locked, the slow burn turning into a roaring conflagration in a matter of seconds.

Ianto wasn't going to hesitate, not with that kind of a request. He needed the Doctor too; that need seared through him with a keen, sharp edge, almost making him gasp aloud.

He slid one finger into the Doctor, hearing the other man gasp and feeling his body tighten, as though in protest. But he had no lube near; he would just have to hope that he could stretch the Doctor enough to make this good for him.

By the time he slipped a second finger into that velvet warmth, the Time Lord was squirming and gasping, his hips arching up against Ianto's hand, legs tightening around his waist. Ianto couldn't hold back any longer; he needed to be inside the Doctor.

Sliding into the other man was like a homecoming; it was where he belonged, their bodies joining as easily as though they were two puzzle pieces that interlocked in just the right places. Ianto let out a soft sigh of contentment, closing his eyes and resting his head against the Doctor's shoulder.

And judging from his reaction, the Time Lord felt the same way; his body was taut and hot around the young man, his long limbs nearly wrapped around his lover.

Ianto pulled back carefully, thrusting shallowly into the Doctor, not wanting to hurt him. But rather than feeling any sort of pain, the Doctor only seemed to be feeling pleasure; his hips rocking against Ianto's insistently, his breath coming hard and fast.

Their desire for each other might be slow to burn, Ianto thought as he thrust into the Time Lord again, but once it crested, there was no turning the tide. And if this was where it led them, he didn't mind letting himself be burnt to a cinder over and over again.

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