Title: Untitled
By: ninefics
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Explicit sex
Spoilers: Up to and including "They Keep Killing Suzie". Later chapters may contain spoilers for episodes past that.
Disclaimer: As with all fanfiction, this is not-for-profit, just for fun, and all the assorted other words that really mean nothing but look like an attempt. God, I need a latte!
Summary: Smut happens.

Tosh was standing in the doorway of my office for roughly three minutes before she made any sound. I was in the middle of a very complicated set of schematics and I didn't want to take my eyes off the screen. I looked over at her only after she cleared her throat.

"Jack? Can I talk to you? It's about Ianto."

My initial impulse was that she was asking me what I thought of Ianto as dating material. For herself, not me, of course. And I'll admit it made a certain kind of sense. They were both young, smart, attractive, and had both watched someone they loved die horribly. Taking comfort from each other might be what they needed. I saved my file, minimised the window, and folded my hands on my desk. "Course you can."

"Off the record, I mean."

Confirming my suspicions, Tosh, I thought and raised one eyebrow. "Has he done something?"

"No! No, it's just.... I don't think he's really dealing well with the loss of, y'know. Lisa." She stumbled over the name.

"He seems fine to me. Suit neatly pressed, not a hair out of place, perfectly manicured nails." Don't think about his hands, Jack. "Coffee's good as ever." I raised my mug and took a sip to demonstrate.

"I know. But I mean inside. When I had that pendant I could hear.... Jack, he's really broken inside and I think you should talk to him."

Not what I'd expected, though it was in keeping with Tosh's behaviour. She'd turned me down and been interested in but rebuffed by Owen, so maybe the idea of dating within the group was out. Or maybe Ianto wasn't as strong as he appeared and she was right to be so worried.

Only one way to find out.

"Can I see you in my office?" I typed, then hit enter. The messenger box blinked almost immediately. "Right away, sir."

I smiled at Tosh and typed a few more keys. "I'm sending you some schematics. Work your magic and see if you can't figure out what they're the schematics for."

Tosh smiled back, familiar with this sort of "dismissal" from my office. She and Ianto passed each other just outside my door.

"Close the door, Ianto."

He obliged, then slid into the seat on the other side of my desk.

Torchwood is my life. It's my career and it's my home. Tosh is good, but I have a lot of access that even she doesn't know about, and some programs that aren't listed in the archives. That doesn't mean I always need them, though. Tosh's monitoring program would serve just fine. The camera in my office was already aimed at the chair and an outline of Ianto appeared on my screen. I tipped the monitor just a little so there was less chance of him seeing it.

Colours flickered again as he fidgeted briefly. As he settled, the colours settled into a pale, blue-white, Ianto-shaped halo on the screen.

"You okay?"

"Fine sir, why do you ask?"

"I'm just worried about you. It's been rough, the past few months. A lot of changes. People ... leaving."

He looked down at his hands. "You mean Lisa."

Colour flared on the screen. Pain and sorrow lighting up yellow. "I meant Lisa. Are you okay? I mean are you really okay?"

"Tosh told you, didn't she. Told you what she heard me thinking." Brighter flashes of yellow. He wasn't angry. Not with Tosh, at least.

"Did she tell you?"

He shook his head. "Not really. She asked me the same vague questions you're asking. Said she was here for me if I needed to talk."

"Do you?"

"No, sir." The halo had gone back to the blue-white colour. If he was lying, he believed it was the truth. "What colour am I, sir?"

I laughed out loud. I should have known he'd know what I was up to. "Sort of a bluey-white. Most people are when they're calm. Except Owen. Owen's always a more intense shade of blue."

"Owen's mind never really stops working." He quirked an eyebrow. "It's not always on the best track, but it seldom slows down."

"Do a little bit of mind reading yourself, Ianto?"

"Body language. It's easy to tell what people are feeling if you just look at them the right way. For instance, I always know when you're flirting with me."

"I'm not exactly subtle about it." I leaned back in my chair and threw my arm casually over the back.

"True, sir. But sometimes you are serious about it. I can tell the difference. Right now you're just challenging me." He pointed at my left hand. "You're tapping your pen against the blotter to try to distract me."

"Sherlock Holmes would be proud." I was impressed. "How often have I honestly won against you at poker?"

"Never, sir. I always know when you're bluffing and decide whether to win or lose depending on my mood."

"What's Owen's tell?"

"He hums 'The Impossible Dream' when he's bluffing."

I wrote that down. "Gwen?"

"Hunches her shoulders just a touch, like she's afraid she'll be caught."

"Tosh."

"Bites her bottom lip."

I leaned forward and dropped my voice. "And me. What's my tell?"

He leaned forward and locked eyes with me. "That, sir, would be cheating."

After Ianto left my office I sat back and folded my hands behind my head. I kept thinking about what my tell was. What gave me away in poker and what gave me away when I was seriously flirting?

I immediately scratched the second one. I knew what gave me away when I was flirting. I wanted him to know I was serious. And if he knew... he'd never made an effort to avoid those situations. He never brushed off my contact or gave me any indication that he was offended. Sure, he never expressed interest, but he never expressed a lack of interest, either.

The rest of the day dragged by. Tosh made some progress with the schematics. So did I. Neither of us got far enough to make anything make sense, but it was better than nothing. Ianto taught Gwen more of the basics of or monitoring software. What to look for. What could be ignored. Sometimes ghosts tripped the sensors, but they weren't anything we needed to concern ourselves with. Not unless they got out of hand.

Owen spent the afternoon claiming he was creating new crosswalks between databases to make finding similarities easier, but he was really reading porn. Which really didn't help my state of mind and made it a lot more difficult to focus on alien technology.

At the end of the day, Ianto tapped on the doorframe. "Just came for your cup, sir." He entered slowly, his eyes going from my face to my coffee cup several times before he reached for it. I reached for his arm at the same moment and gently placed my hand over his.

"Can you always tell when I'm serious about flirting with you?"

"Yes, I think so, sir."

He kept his gaze fixed on my desk. I stood up. "Look at me, Ianto." His eyes fixed on mine and held there, unblinking, patiently waiting. I had the unnerving feeling that if I said I was going to kill him on the spot he would have suggested methods that would leave the least amount of mess. "What about right now?" I squeezed his fingers gently, pressing my thumb against his palm.

"I'd say you were quite serious."

"Does it bother you?"

"Not at all, sir."

"Should I stop?"

"That's not necessary, Jack."

Amazing how one word can change everything, isnt' it? Amazing how something as simple as a name instead of an honorific can put things into perspective. Of course, the fact that Ianto had curled his fingers around my thumb and we were standing there awkwardly holding hands helped, too. A slip of the hand and a turn of the wrist and we were toe-to-toe, fingers knotted together.

"I'd really like it if you kissed me," he said. His voice barely shook and I watched his adam's apple as he swallowed hard.

"Are you sure about this, Ianto? You don't have to just because I want to. I'm your boss, not your owner. You can say no and it won't change anything."

He let go of my hand and took a step back. I thought he was going to tell me that I was right, he was sorry, and he should go. Instead, he stood in front of the guest chair and put his hands in his trouser pockets. "What colour am I." It was a statement and not a question. I looked over at the monitor.

"Orange."

"Highly emotionally charged with undercurrents of fear," he supplied. "That should tell you something. If that doesn't, might this help?" He blushed red and drew my attention to his crotch. There, nearly hidden by his neatly pressed trousers, was the unmistakable outline of his erection.

"I believe everyone's already gone home for the night. Sir."

For the first time, I detected a teasing tone to his "sir". I couldn't stop myself from grinning.

If I'd just propositioned a guy and he laughed, I'm pretty sure that would kill the mood. I needed to do something to keep from laughing. So I kissed him. There was a split-second of resistance. I don't know if it was a momentary flash of doubt or the fact that I launched myself at him and he didn't have time to prepare. Either way, the resistance disappeared almost immediately and I felt his lips soften and part, allowing my tongue to graze against his teeth.

I held his face between my hands and watched his eyes close slowly. His hands were on my waist, clenching and unclenching, slowly bunching my shirt, untucking it from my trousers. I backed him up against the wall and held him there with my leg against his groin.

We were thrusting against each other and kissing like a couple of horny high school boys. This was a side of Ianto I'd never seen but had suspected (and hoped) existed. Foreheads and noses touching, we pulled apart. He carefully slid the braces from my shoulders and I unknotted his tie. The silk slid through my fingers and onto the floor. He took off his jacket and I freed my arms from the braces.

Fingers raced through buttons. I fumbled Ianto's, partly because he managed mine with such quick precision. I kissed him and laughed against his mouth when I finally got his shirt undone and touched the soft cotton of his undershirt. Of course he was was wearing one! It was something that was so perfectly Ianto.

I'm a big believer in the occasional rough shag against a wall, but something like that has a time and place. "Not here," I said and took his hand. He hesitated just long enough to retrieve his jacket and tie, then I led him out of my office, down through the halls, to a heavy door. We stopped in front of it and looked at each other. I raised an eyebrow. He smirked. I unlocked the door and let Ianto into my room.

"Jack." Ianto caught my elbow and turned me to face him. This is it. This is where he apologises and leaves. His hand curled around my neck and he kissed me. This time I opened my mouth to his tongue. Ianto's jacket and tie fell to the floor again. Then things began to move in high speed. Shirts, undershirt, shoes, socks, and trousers were shed.

I was pinned on the floor, in roughly the middle of my room, with a very rumpled and nearly naked Ianto Jones kneeling over me and laughing. Laughing! I grabbed his hips and pulled him down roughly. One pair of blindingly white Y-fronts (his) and one pair of blue boxers (mine) between us. I hooked my thumbs under the waist of his pants. "This is it, Ianto. If you have any doubts at all, speak up now."

He sat up and I exhaled sharply as his change in position put pressure on my cock. I held my breath and counted to twelve to keep from grabbing him again and just grinding up against him until I came.

Ianto reached over to where his trousers lay in a heap. He pulled something from one of his pockets. He is so not carrying around condoms, I thought. What he held up was not a condom, but a stopwatch.

"I want to play a little game," he said and rested the stopwatch on my chest. I watched Ianto as he slipped his pants down just enough to free his cock. I stared. I couldn't help it. It wasn't the biggest I'd ever seen. It wasn't the thickest. Not even if I compared it to just the human ones. But it was so... unexpected. This situation had played itself out countless times in my fantasies, but did I think there was ever a possibility we'd be in this position? Never in a million years. And you know me. If I say a million years I mean that literally. I was dimly aware that Ianto had said something. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"I said," he held my chin between the thumb and index finger of his left hand and forced me to meet his eyes. "I want to see how long it takes you to make me come." This display of dominance made me shiver and I was more than happy to oblige. I grabbed him and flipped him so our positions were reversed. I pulled his pants down further and tossed them aside, then removed my own. This time, I caught Ianto staring.

"You're staring."

"I'm sorry. I just didn't expect you to be...."

"Uncut?" I shrugged, knelt between his knees, and planted a kiss on his stomach. "My parents were traditionalists."

"Were? Are your parents dead?"

No. They haven't even been born yet. "D'you really think this is the time to discuss family trees?" I brushed my chin against his erection and he gasped, tipping his head back. "Time me."

He pushed the button the moment my tongue touched the underside of his cock.

Ianto's fingers twisted in my hair, pulling it as I drew him into my mouth. I knew I was skilled enough that I could have him off in a matter of minutes, but that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to make this last. I wanted to make him writhe with pleasure and I wanted him to beg me to let him come. We might never have this chance again and I wanted to blow his mind.

I also wanted to fuck him. I wanted to bury myself in him. Bruise him and rake his pale skin. I wanted to leave welts and bruises that he'd carry (hidden by his tidy suits and ties and jackets) for days if not weeks. I wanted to be inside him -- feel him tight around me and hear him shouting my name.

But oh god did I want to taste him.

Seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, I did. Salty and sweet and clean and bitter. I swallowed as he came and nearly came as well when he breathed out my name during the final spasms.