Title: A Night with Jack’s Webley
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 3,148
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When John Hart traced his gun along the sides of Ianto’s mouth, it gave Ianto an idea.
Warnings: Gun play, foreign object penetration, sort of 69-ing.
A/N: In case you don’t know a lot about guns and the terms I’m using (I know there’s lots of Brits here, and you guys don’t exactly have the same sort of access we have in the States) here is a simple diagram with all the parts I mention in the fic.

            Quietly Ianto shut down the last few systems in the Hub. The rest of the team had gone home, and he had just finished up the last of his Archive work for the day. Well, the last of the work that he felt like doing today. Organizing the Archives was a never-ending job: he got off work not when he was finished, but when he was finished enough.

            The last light on in the Hub, besides the emergency lighting, was flooding out of Jack’s office. Ianto walked in the back, fiddling with the hem of his jacket as he did. “Hey.”

            Jack didn’t turn, staring intently down at some papers. “Just give me minute, Ianto.”

             Ianto walked around Jack’s desk and sat himself down in one of the chairs, waiting patiently. He didn’t always wait patiently. Sometimes he would slip under the desk, distracting Jack successfully from his work; sometimes he would drag Jack from the desk physically, leading him down the ladder; sometimes he would just stand in Jack’s line of sight, naked, until Jack couldn’t take it anymore and jumped him. But today he would be patient. Ianto had a request for Jack, and he needed to make sure he handled it properly.

            The sound of Jack’s pen scratching on paper filled the air between them for another minute, before Jack set it down. He stretched languidly, popping his back once. Finally he looked over at Ianto and grinned. “What, no impatient blow jobs or naked Ianto’s to entice me away from the desk?”

            Ianto smiled nervously. “Well, actually, I had an idea.”

            Jack leaned forward on his desk. “Yeah?”

            “I…I was wondering…” Ianto fiddled with his suit jacket again. Bollocks, this was embarrassing.

            “Oh, this is exciting.” Jack wiggled in his chair. “Whatever it is, it’s kinky, isn’t it?”

            Ianto shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose. To some.”

            Jack abruptly stood and strode around the desk, plopping himself down in Ianto’s lap. “Yeah?”

            Stalling, Ianto pulled Jack down for a kiss. Jack reciprocated for a moment, hot, wet tongue slipping over Ianto’s, before he pulled back. “Ianto…”

            Swallowing thickly, Ianto avoided eye contact. “I, well…your gun.”

            Ianto felt his entire face go red as he stared off into some corner of Jack’s office.

            “I suppose you’re speaking non-metaphorically here?”

            Ianto nodded, still refusing to look at Jack.

            “And what do you want to do with my gun?” Jack’s hips ground down lightly on Ianto’s, and Ianto gasped, eyes flickering to Jack’s against his will. Oh, that bastard. He knew what Ianto was asking – he just wanted to hear Ianto say it. Knowing Jack wasn’t against the idea – hell, he was obviously interested, judging by the growing hardness pressing down on Ianto’s groin – gave Ianto courage.

            “I was thinking we could try some…some gun play. Er, you know. You with the gun and…doing things, to me. With the gun.”

            Ianto was startled by the force with which Jack kissed him; they almost tumbled backwards in the small chair. “Oh, Ianto. That sounds…that sounds great…” Jack’s fingers fumbled with Ianto’s buttons as his hips ground slowly against Ianto’s.

            Ianto managed to slip off Jack’s braces and get his shirt halfway unbuttoned before he came to his senses. “Jack…” Jack chose that moment to suck on Ianto’s Adam’s apple, and his eyes rolled back in his head. With some difficulty Ianto managed to remember what he was about to say. “Jack…bunk…”

            From somewhere in the region of Ianto’s clavicle Jack hummed a response. He stood up, dragging Ianto with him. With some reluctance Ianto managed to push Jack off of him and nod at his desk. “Your Webley, Jack?”

            Ianto watched as shaking hands fumbled through Jack’s desk drawer, eventually holding up the Webley, still in its holster, triumphantly. Ianto turned and hurried down the ladder to Jack’s bunk, and began stripping the second his feet hit the floor.

            Jack followed closely behind him, dropping to the floor of his bedroom and tossing his clothes to the floor with abandon. The moment Jack was naked Ianto threw himself at him, gripping both sides of his face as he kissed him deeply. He allowed Jack to push him backwards to the bunk, collapsing onto it when the back of his legs bumped into it. For a moment he lay there, staring up at Jack: his eyes were dilated, chest heaving, and erect cock leaking precome already. Ianto’s gaze flickered to the Webley that Jack clutched in his right hand.

            Jack must have followed his eyes, because he lifted the Webley up and removed it from its holster. Carefully he removed the bullets, placing them on the table above Ianto’s head. Ianto watched as he closed it, opened it, re-checked, and closed it again. Jack still looked nervous. “Will you check, too?”

            Ianto took the gun proffered him and clicked it open, checked it, then snapped it shut. “It’s a revolver, Jack. There can’t be one in the chamber.”

            Nervously, Jack joined Ianto on his bed, accepting the gun back from him. “I’m putting the safety on just in case.” Ianto watched Jack click the safety on, then turn to face him.

            “Alright Ianto, this was your idea. What do you want me to do with it?”

            Ianto’s cock twitched at the feral look in Jack’s eyes, and he drew a shuddering breath. “I…whatever…my mouth?” Ianto blushed furiously, but the confession was worth it to see Jack’s eyes widen.  

            “Impatience. What if I just do this…” Jack positioned himself over Ianto, gun in his right hand. Ianto spared a moment’s attention to note that Jack was carefully avoiding placing his finger on the trigger. Then the barrel of the gun was tracing a line down his jaw, to his neck, to his chest. Ianto groaned.

            “Hm. And what if I do this…” Ever-so-lightly, Jack traced the circumference of Ianto’s nipple. The cold steel immediately hardened Ianto’s nipple and he moaned again.

            “That’s…that’s good…” Jack nodded, considering. He traced Ianto’s other nipple with the muzzle, then pointed the gun down and pressed the muzzle down, so that Ianto’s erect nipple was inside the barrel. Ianto arched upward, hands clenching the sheets. “Oh, Jack, yes…”

            Then Jack’s mouth was on his, teeth nipping at his lips, tongue sliding over his, as Jack ground the gun into his nipple, barrel rotating slowly around. Ianto tossed his head to the side, panting harshly. “Jack…too good…wait…”

            Jack obediently removed the gun and glanced down at Ianto’s erection, which was already swollen and dripping. Gently he caressed Ianto’s throat with the gun. “If I had realized this was that big of a turn-on for you, I would have suggested it a long time ago.”

            Ianto focused on bringing his body back under control, willing his arousal back down to manageable levels. The gun tracing lines up and down his throat wasn’t helping. “Okay.” Ianto looked up at Jack and nodded once he had his heart rate down and breathing steadied.

            Jack considered for a moment, staring down at Ianto’s body. “You said you wanted the gun in your mouth…” a wicked gleam lit up his eyes, “but before that…”

            The gun moved slowly, tantalizingly, down from Ianto’s neck to his chest, bypassing his nipples this time to press into his navel. Ianto moaned. Jack pressed the gun in and out, grinning widely. “Do you want me to do this to you, Ianto? Want me to fuck you with my gun?”

            Ianto’s hands flew up to clutch at his own hair before he forced them back down to the sheets. “Jack…please…but, no…” Ianto shook his head, trying to clear it. “Mouth first. Mouth, then you can…please…”

            Jack raised an eyebrow. “Have quite the oral fixation, don’t you, Ianto?”

            Ianto managed an eye roll, even though Jack was still fucking his navel with the gun. “Thought you’d…have noticed…always got…your cock in my…oh Jack!”

            Jack had abruptly slid his Webley down to Ianto’s groin and was pressing it into the base of his erection. A pause: Jack was waiting for Ianto to regain control. Ianto silently thanked Jack’s past experiences that let him know when Ianto was too close. There was a minute while Ianto fought to regain control, hands clenching and unclenching at the sheets spasmodically, breath coming in short gasps. Jack’s free hand came up and rubbed soothing lines up and down Ianto’s thigh as he waited, gun still causing firm pressure at the base of his erection.

            As his heart beat slowed, Ianto nodded down at Jack. Then the gun was slowly moving, muzzle sliding up Ianto’s erection, and nothing should feel so good…

            “Can’t take much more of this, can you?”

            Ianto shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. He wanted to look at Jack, but he thought if he did, he might come right there. “Alright, you want the gun in your mouth?” Ianto nodded.

            Jack didn’t remove the gun from Ianto’s erection just yet. The muzzle reached the tip, and then it was pressing down on it, the same way it had Ianto’s nipples. Ianto’s toes curled and he moaned wantonly. “If you come down the barrel of my gun I’ll find another one to shoot you with,” Jack warned. “You’re not ruining my Webley.”

            Ianto shook his head. “Then move it, because if you keep – ah – pressing it…oh, Jack…”

            Ianto slammed his head into the pillow when Jack removed the gun from the head of his cock, some tension leaving his body. Ianto managed to open his eyes again, and saw Jack kneeling above him, barrel of his gun glistening with precome. Gently he traced the gun across the sides of Ianto’s mouth, and Ianto’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Jack, yes…”

            “Clean my gun, Ianto.”

            If Ianto hadn’t been so incredibly beyond aroused at the moment, he might have laughed at the cheesiness of the line. But then the barrel of the Webley was pushing past his lips, teeth, gums, pressing down toward the back of his throat. Ianto groaned around it and sucked on it enthusiastically, reaching a hand up and covering Jack’s with his. He looked at Jack, who was staring down at him with unadulterated lust in his eyes. Ianto guided Jack’s hand to pump the gun in and out of his mouth, and then he was sucking, licking the gun, tasting the slightly bitter taste of his own precome on the muzzle. As that dissipated it left behind the taste of steel, and oil, and gunpowder residue. Ianto groaned and sucked harder, cheeks hollowing as he did.  

            Above him, Jack was fisting his own erection with his free hand, the sight of Ianto sucking on his Webley apparently too much for him. Ianto smiled around the gun, then gently encouraged Jack to pull it out of his mouth. “Do you want to fuck me with the gun, still?”

            Jack’s hesitation was obvious. His hand had stilled on his own arousal, and Ianto could see his mind flickering from Ianto’s mouth, to his arse, to the gun, to his own sorely neglected erection. Ianto reached up and drew Jack down for a kiss, letting him taste the metallic residue of the gun. Jack groaned. “What if…” Ianto broke the kiss and considered Jack carefully. “What if I give you a blowjob while you fuck me with the gun?”

            Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto saw Jack’s cock twitch. Oh, he liked that idea. “Here…” Jack maneuvered Ianto, and for a moment there was a jostling of limbs as Jack tried to get Ianto on top of him on the small bed. A moment later and their positions were reversed: Ianto looking down at Jack. Jack gestured with the gun. “Turn around.”

            Ianto got the gist of what Jack was suggesting and turned himself around, arse in Jack’s face, Jack’s cock below his mouth. “Alrig – oh Jack…” Jack had wasted no time, evidently managing to lubricate his gun while Ianto was turning around, because he slid it in Ianto, stopping with the trigger guard pressed just outside the tight ring of muscle. Ianto groaned and almost collapsed with shock, adjusting to the feel of the cold, unforgiving metal inside of him.

            “Ianto...” Jack’s impatient tone brought Ianto back to reality, and he bent down to take Jack’s cock in his mouth. The angle was different, and it took some careful tongue work to swipe his tongue along the vein on the underside (now top) of Jack’s cock the way he liked it, but Ianto managed. An appreciative groan floated down to him from Jack’s lips, and Ianto concentrated on sucking harder.

            It was hard enough to concentrate with Jack thrusting the barrel of the Webley in and out, but then he added a finger. Ianto’s whole body spasmed and he stilled, controlling his arousal. Jack had stopped thrusting the gun and was apparently waiting for Ianto to regain control. Ianto removed his mouth from Jack’s arousal and pressed his forehead into his groin, breathing deeply. He felt Jack’s finger twitch inside him with the contact. “Sorry, just…hang on.”

            Jack’s free hand came up and rubbed Ianto’s thigh again. Ianto sighed and nuzzled Jack’s erection with his nose, then turned and rubbed his hair against it. Behind him, Jack groaned. “Okay, sorry. Keep going.” Ianto lifted his head back up and took Jack’s cock in his mouth again, taking as much in as he could. Jack’s finger resumed thrusting into him with the gun, and Ianto twitched again, but managed to remain more in control.

            As he swiped his tongue along the head of Jack’s erection, a second finger joined the barrel of the gun, and Ianto moaned. He felt Jack’s fingers stutter, and he moaned again, just for Jack’s benefit. “Keep doing that and this is going to end before we get to the best part…” muttered Jack behind him. Obediently, Ianto stopped moaning, though he did bring a hand up to grip at the base.

            More lube pressed into him, and Ianto furrowed his eyebrows. What could Jack…oh. Oh. Ianto ripped his mouth away. “Jack, Jack, no…can’t…too much…”

            Ianto felt Jack freeze, trigger guard and cylinder of the Webley halfway inside of him. “Does it hurt?” Jack started pulling the gun out of Ianto, but he reached back, grabbing Jack’s wrist and stopping him. “No, no, feels so good…” Ianto took a deep breath. “I’m close. If you…”

            Ianto felt Jack plant a light kiss to his bum. “I know. That’s the idea.”

            After a moment, Ianto nodded, releasing his grip on Jack’s wrist and turning back to his weeping member. A moment later the Webley continued its steady push in, until Ianto could feel that only the hammer and grip were still outside of him. Unable to help himself, he whimpered around Jack’s cock, hips thrusting back onto the gun of their own accord. He could feel Jack carefully maneuvering the gun, until…Ianto ripped his mouth off Jack’s cock: “Ah, Jack, no, I…” Jack had found his prostate and pressed down with the muzzle of the gun, and that was all it took to send Ianto over the edge. Come spurted out of him, onto Jack’s stomach. He collapsed onto Jack, oblivious to anything around him.

            Coming down from his orgasm, Ianto blinked, looking around. The first thing he noticed was that Jack had come at some point, and his cock lay satiated next to Ianto’s cheek. Ianto turned and pressed a light kiss to it. Jack’s whole body twitched, and Ianto smiled.

            The next thing he noticed was that the Webley was no longer inside of him. Ianto reached back to feel at his arse, still amazed that Jack had managed to get so much of it inside of him. Behind him, Jack groaned. “Ianto, I can’t get it up again so soon, and if I keep watching you finger yourself inches from my face, I might die from overstimulation.”

            Obediently Ianto removed his hand, then turned himself around, lying himself down on Jack’s chest. Jack inhaled shakily, his heartbeat pitter-pattering beneath Ianto. “That was…”

            “Yeah.”

            Jack laughed. “Wow.”

            “Yeah.” Ianto agreed again.

            “I am so glad you asked for this.”

            “I try my best to keep you entertained.” Ianto captured Jack’s hand in his. He brought it up to his mouth and turned it over, pressing a kiss to the inside of the palm. Beneath him, Jack hummed happily. Ianto pressed Jack’s hand to his cheek, and Jack’s fingers automatically began stroking it gently.

            “What brought this on?”

            Ianto blushed and pushed Jack’s hand away, rolling off of him. With heightened interest, Jack turned to his side and propped his head up on an elbow. “Hey, Ianto?”

            Ianto sighed, casting his eyes about sheepishly. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

            Jack’s free hand reached over and tangled itself in Ianto’s chest hair. “What, was it someone else? Did someone else…”

            Ianto’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No! Well, not…not really. Sort of. But not.”

            Jack hesitated, incredulous. “Ianto either there was or there wasn’t. Did you sleep with someone else? It’s okay if you did…”

            If the situation weren’t so incredibly embarrassing, Ianto would have been pleased with Jack’s obvious discomfort with the thought of Ianto sleeping with someone else. As it was, a nervous thrill went through him. “No, I didn’t sleep with someone else.” Ianto took a breath, staring up at the ceiling. As if that would give him courage, somehow. “It was something John did.” Ianto continued quickly. “John Hart, the…your…the Time Agent.”

            Jack’s fingers abruptly stopped gently threading through Ianto’s chest hair and squeezed tight. Ianto winced, but remained calm. “What did he do?” Jack’s eyes were veiled, unreadable. He could be aroused or murderous, Ianto couldn’t tell.

            Carefully Ianto laid a hand over Jack’s on his chest. “At the office building. He held me at gunpoint, forced me into the lift. Told me that Owen and Gwen were injured, and that I had to rush to go save them. He…” Ianto blushed, but made sure to look Jack in the eye. “He…traced the gun, along my mouth…” Removing his hand from Jack’s, Ianto imitated what John had done, stroking his fingers on either side of Jack’s mouth. “It was quite the turn on. I’ve been wanting to try it with your Webley since then.”

            Jack smiled ruefully. “John has that affect on people. Opens their minds to new experiences…” Jack waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Ianto breathed a sigh of relief that Jack wasn’t upset. “Bet you didn’t even think about getting the gun so far inside you.”

            Ianto shook his head. “Not to inflate your ego, but that was brilliant.”

            Jack pulled Ianto closer to him, arms holding him tight. “Yeah well…” a pause, then “Promise you won’t be mad?”

            Ianto laughed. “Promise. What is it?”

            Jack’s lips brushed against Ianto’s ear, and he whispered conspiratorially, “John was the one that taught me that.”

 

Next story - John Joins In