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Bedroom Factotum	By : RowenRaven Category: S through Z > Torchwood Views: 4859 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood as it belongs to BBC, nor do I make any profit out of this or any story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter 6

Things are going pretty good. Though Ianto has yet to initiate any of their intimacies and those that Jack instigates are by far a lot less than before. But because of it all their encounters are a lot more satisfying. Ianto seems more at ease and relaxed, the playful snark is back, but Jack can't help but to feel a little disappointed. The archivist isn't more forthcoming than before, but honestly what had he expected; that every time they are alone the young man would spew out his whole life story chapter by chapter. Certainly not, Ianto is a very private person. There is so much the captain would like to know about the Welshman, but in his carelessness he had lost countless opportunities to ask when the occasions arouse. Like if he wore suits in honor to his father being a master tailor? – when he bought Gwen's new wedding dress had been the only time Ianto has referred to his family at all. Or what was the reason behind the shifting eyes when he admitted he knew of Providence Park Psychiatric Hospital where Christina was? – what surprised Jack is that he wasn't surprised- he isn't even sure where the younger man lives. But the 51st century man can't bring himself to ask any of these questions it all seems too personal somehow. And the captain can't demand the tea boy to open up when he himself remains an enigma; Jack isn't exactly an information center when it comes to himself. So it means Jack will have to learn to read Ianto, as good as Ianto is in reading the immortal, like an open book -a children's book at that, that uncanny is his ability to predict the pseudo American's needs. All in all Jack can't complain and he hopes Ianto doesn't find a reason either.
Until Gwen decides to embark on another one of her crusades. The tension rises between the captain and the Welshwoman and it makes Ianto nervous, since it is that same tenacity that caught Jack's attention to begin with. Ianto has nothing against her. He likes her well enough even if he finds her to be a little over dramatic at times. It must be nice to retain so much innocence even after facing the reality of the rift, as harsh at it may be at times. Just like Jack and everyone else in the team, Ianto too wants to preserve that childish wonder in her eyes in those rare occasions when the rift gifts them with something no so terrifying if not tragic. He even envies her capacity of empathy and sympathy. He admires her courage, determination, her leadership, he acknowledges her potential and intuition, they even make a great field team her and he. But naivety can only get you so far, and they can only protect her from so much. So when she decides to search for the missing rift victims Ianto backs her up and interceded for her before Jack. Of course given their particular circumstances to anyone it would seem like Ianto was taking the opportunity to cause hurt to the Welshwoman out of some kind of grudge for the grievances she caused in the relationship between the tea boy and the captain. But that is not his intention; and so he is taken aback and offended that Jack would suggest such a thing, albeit in not so many words when Ianto tries to appeal her case before the immortal.
The will clash turns the air thick in the conference room and the staring contest makes the rest of the team want to scurry away. Practical Owen sides with Jack, Tosh sympathizes with Gwen but agrees there isn't much they can do, they have enough to deal with to add counseling to their responsibilities. Jack is in his boss mode; it's not that he doesn't care; like she claims. It's that he is trying to shelter her from the uglier side of the rift –as impossible as that may seem when you have weevils, Nostrovites and risen mittens coming at you in daily basis. Exposing her to the rift victims would affect her greatly and the captain can't stand to see that innocence flicker and die a little more. Why can't she understand it's for her own good .It would imply exposing Torchwood and alien threat to a lot of civilians, Jack can't allow that, not to mention it be too cruel. He is even more annoyed when Ianto approaches him in behave of Gwen.
"Jack maybe you should reconsider," Ianto suggests.
"And what? Take her to Flat Holm like it's a fieldtrip to a museum. It's a freak show Ianto, you know that!" Jack snaps.
"You know she will keep pushing. It's a reality you can't shelter her from. It's something she wants to know, keeping her in the dark won't give her peace of mind," he tries to reason.
"And knowing will? It would only hurt her, why would I want that? Why do you?"
Ianto pretends not to notice the accusation.
"Fine don't take her there, but at least explain it to her!" the tea boy insists annoyed.
Jack's had enough he takes his stand as captain and draws the line. "No I'm not telling her anything and neither are you, make sure your lips are sealed that's an order," he hisses and leaves.
Ianto sees Jack storm off leaving a frustrated tea boy standing outside the conference room. He can't tell her, fair enough, but he can point her in the right direction. Jack will be furious; it will be the devil to pay. Trying not to dwell on the captain's retribution for disobeying an order –however indirectly- Ianto goes to program his GPS.
After leaving the "boy scout mission" on Gwen's desk, the archivist turns his efforts to lifting Jack's mood, surely nothing a little industrial strength coffee and a game or two of hide and seek can't remedy. Sure enough once alone in the Hub, Ianto takes an extra-large mug to Jack, it would do wonders to mellow the immortal's mood. Ianto hesitates as he wonders what he should do next weighing his options. Situations like the one today had always led Jack to envision Gwen in his bed; but maybe the surprise of Ianto initiating a sexual approach would redirect his thoughts and Jack had promised. Making up his mind and gathering his courage Ianto waits for Jack to finish his coffee and a phone call to one UNIT general or other. Squaring his shoulders the tea boy approaches the 51st century man as he loosens his tie and leans a hip on the edge of the desk. The captain watches him avidly with curiosity and apprehension unsure if he should respond to the younger man's advances or wait for Ianto to set the pace of their encounter. The tea boy is grateful for that show of restrain on Jacks part; it means that the older man is keeping in mind Ianto's needs not only his own. The archivist loops his tie around Jack's neck and pulls the immortal to meet his lips in a passionate kiss. As their tongues dance, Ianto struggles to remove his jacket, once he is free off it he breaks the kiss and gives Jack a mischievous grin.
"You are it!" he says in a mix of husk and boyish playfulness and tosses his jacket over Jacks head. Laughing he sprints out of the office as he throws off his waistcoat, tugs out his shirt and then unhooks his belt as he goes to 'hide'. Naked hide and seek, it's only a shame it didn't last very long though. Jack found and caught him soon enough in the green house, maybe he shouldn't have left a trail of garments to follow. Ianto laughs as Jack winds his powerful arms around his waist effectively trapping him and preventing any escape attempts.
"You were supposed to count to ten!" he accuses, the joy making his vowels lilt with the heavy accent.
"I did," replies the captain with a shit-eating grin that makes Ianto rolls his eyes.
"Before you came looking you Oaf!" he corrects good-naturedly, lacing his arms around Jack's neck.
"I don't remember that rule," Jack feigns innocence playfully nipping the younger man's lips.
"It's convenient" Ianto's hands deftly unbutton the American's shirt, pushing it pass the big shoulders "when you are the one to invent the game," he deepens the kiss and soon their tongues are warring, hands frantically tugging at clothes, mapping out hot skin.
They are so caught up in each other; they don't hear the alarm wailing the arrival of a newcomer.
"Oh God!" it's the exclamation that gives them pause as Gwen walks in for a head butting round two and finds them in a very compromising position, namely naked torsos, Jacks hands squeezing Ianto's ass, Inato's hand down the front on Jack's pants, as they engage in a messy lip lock, akin to tonsil hockey. Ianto hasn't felt so embarrassed and mortified in his life, and scrambles to gather his shirt and hurries after Gwen, to apologies, to explain, to will her to understand, he isn't sure. What he knows is that he can't let her leave so, he knows she has feelings for Jack and though it's not a secret that Ianto and Jack share office, coffee and sex; seeing it with her own eyes most smart. He wants to reassure her, apologize, tell her of the package on her desk and forget it ever happened. But Jack also had to follow, he has to come swaggering out of the greenhouse, shirt open, hard on bulging noticeably in his pants, and exuding pheromones that make Ianto dizzy.
"Always room for one more" he says it so casually yet seriously that it cuts through Ianto; he hangs his head and busies himself in buttoning and tugging his shirt in making himself more presentable before the Welshwoman.
"We could've used you for naked hide and seek" is the lewd comment the captain directs at her and Ianto tries not to wince at the mental image.
"He cheats, he always cheats" " Ianto tries to hide his discomfort and lighten the tension to no avail as he now stands, trapped between them in the narrow catwalk as the two wills clash for a second time today. So much for distractions.
When Jack calls him back in Ianto hesitates out the door, not only to tell Gwen about the package on her desk, but because he isn't sure he wants to be in there alone with Jack. Not when he is thinking of how pissed he is at Gwen and sex at the same time, that never bode well for the archivist. Once he steps in Jack has already removed his shirt again and it's waiting expectantly for Ianto. All the playfulness of five minutes ago completely gone, now there is an affronted alpha male air about him; still the tea boy approaches the captain, maybe having the ex-time agent remove his clothes again will cool him down and make him concentrate on Ianto instead of Gwen. But the look Jack gives his re-clothed frame -as if to say 'who told you to get dressed'- makes the young man pause, he grows even more uncertain and whatever part of his erection that hadn't die down with the awkwardness of being caught, has now completely deflated.
"Coffee?" he offers and dashed out of the greenhouse down to his coffee station without waiting for a reply from the captain. As he prepares to brew he notices Gwen is long gone as well as the package, at least something went right.
Jack looks confused at Inato's quickly retreating back, and scoffs unbelieving. Was it something he said? The captain grumbles as he wonders what went wrong. Weren't they supposed to have sex? He had been so thrilled that Ianto had finally come on to him on his own. So why has the younger man made an exit left stage? Everything had been going perfect until Gwen caught them getting started, both the Welsh had been embarrassed, Jack can only imagine how it would've been like if she had walked in on them 'further along' in the game. But as inconsequential as it may be for Jack –who possess no inhibitions- it surely made Ianto a little more than uncomfortable. Jack cusses, she had to come along and kill the mood, if only she would've waited until the morning to declare her independent research. He can't really blame Ianto; the little show down on the catwalk had put a damper in Jack's mood too…. The captain pauses replaying the conversation and this time he curses at himself. How can he be such an idiot? Gwen didn't kill Ianto's libido, Jack did. 'Always room for one more' that's what he had said; he hadn't thought about it, it was so normal, so Jack. The flirting, the innuendo came naturally to him that he didn't stop to think what he was saying, to whom he was saying it, or in front of whom. He had behaved like he always did, masking irritation under sexual tension; thus making the Welshman believe he was going to do as he had done in the pass months, conjure up the source of his irritation over the factotum and fuck it until it ceased to annoy him. The 51st century man can't believe it, he cock-blocked himself with his 'innocent' but seemly inappropriate flirting. This is ridiculous and preposterous, hadn't he promised Ianto he wouldn't do it again. Ianto can't backpedal from sex every time the American has issues with someone else. It seems Jack needs to re-ascertain Ianto that his only focus as a bed partner is indeed none other than the aforementioned tea boy himself. This tiptoeing game ends now "Ianto!" he calls, then decides he can't wait until the young man is done hiding behind his coffee brewing machine and marches out of the greenhouse. "IANTO!" he bellows impatient as he makes his way to meet said man at the main part of the Hub.
The captain decides he needs to be careful, not to approach the subject directly, but show with his actions that not Gwen nor anyone has a hold in his mind when Ianto and he have sex. To make Ianto understand that the argument in the catwalk stays there, that it left with the Welshwoman's departure and that it wouldn't follow into their bed. To get his point across all he has to do is not bring it up to the tea boy. So Jack decides to pick up where they left off.
Ianto tries to focus his attention on pouring the coffee, pretends he is not watching Jack as he makes his way towards him; not knowing what enthralled him more, the sway of his broad shoulders or of his narrow hips. That he is not tempted by the chiseled chest and the toned abs; all wrapped in that light tanned skin topped with the two peaked dark caramel nipples. He hopes he can hide his anxiety and uncertainty better than he can hide his desire and need for the older man. It has always been so hard for him to mask the effect of those pheromones have on him, since they met for the first time. But he has always been a master of hiding his thoughts and emotions and he is sure that his face is a blank slate by the time Jack has reached the coffee station. But when Ianto hands Jack a mug and he puts it aside the younger man isn't so sure anymore. He can't help but eye the captain when he leans a hip on the table, crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at Ianto, blue eyes boring in to him with a gaze so intense it makes the archivist averts his own down to the mug in his hand.
"You bailed" Jack accused, but the tone was off, it sounded amused.
"I don't know what you mean, sir," he feigned ignorance, sporting his most innocent looking face, as he wonders what is Jack playing at. Ianto prides himself in reading the immortal better than anyone past, present, dead or alive; but right now he can't gauge his mood so he braces for the worst.
"Naked hide and seek? I did found you, you know the rules," he said cockily, raising his eyebrows suggestively, in his eyes a hungry gaze, a wolfish grin on his lips to match. This is not what Ianto had expected, but he is more than relief about Jack's change of mood.
"Oh now you remember the rules," trying to hide his hope and excitement at the prospect of Jack keeping his promise behind a coy smile. Giving in to the delicious shudder that runs the length of his spine as the 51st century man wraps his arms around him.
"I did invent them," the self-indulgence makes Ianto chuckle and shake his head in amusement.
"Come on Ianto, it started as a great evening," he says in a softer coaxing tone. "let's finish it that way," the words whispered in his ear sooth him, whatever doubts that might have remained melt away as Jack presses their bodies together groin to chest. At the feeling of Jack's arousal against his hip, the warm skin under his hands and the smell of musk Ianto throws his caution to the wind and without the need of more cajoling crushes their lips together in an almost violent kiss.
Jack gives a mental sigh of relief himself. He managed to salvage this evening and maybe even reassure Ianto of the legitimacy of his intentions. Their kissing is hungry and sloppy but Jack is not about to offer a change of pace, this is how Ianto had planned their night and Jack would keep with the program. He bears down on Ianto driving them back against the table, the coffee brewer rattles ominously, their forgotten mugs falling with a clatter, chipping the porcelain and spilling the hot beverage on the floor. For once Ianto doesn't care about the mess, Jack keeping him well distracted with his large hands caressing the pale flanks, his mouth traveling down the jawline, in turn the younger man's hands tangle in his hair as he tilts his head back exposing that delicious throat for Jack to ravish. The American feels the growing bulge of Ianto's arousal and grinds their hips together, providing the much desired friction on their swelling flesh.
"Jack!" the heated gasp and the bucking under him make Jack moan and he tries to lift the smaller man onto the table seeking leverage for more friction; the cluttered mugs, plates and cans of coffee beans rattle in protest of losing what little space they have, pushing and digging into Ianto's back.
"Wait, uhn, Jack not enough space," the younger protests pushing Jack away to slide off the table.
The brief interruption by technical difficulties makes Jack groan low in his throat, but he doesn't suggest they 'make space' by pushing all the china to the floor. Instead he agrees and with a growl maneuvers Ianto away from the table, but without a surface to lean on they find it difficult to purchase balance, their tangled limbs stumbling and swaying erratically. Still they manage to rid each other of clothes, as they bumped around the work stations, more organizing to do later but at the moment none of them cared much for their co-workers desks. Finally frustrated by their clumsy bumbling Jack takes Ianto up by his thighs forcing the tea boy to wrap his legs around the captain's waist, a hiss escapes them as their heated cocks rub together, the pre-cum mixing and making for wonderful slick friction. The sensation makes Ianto buck and thrust with abandon against Jacks hips, almost making the taller man drop him as he carries him to the couch under the Torchwood logo.
Jack sits on the sofa Ianto straddling his lap, with a solid surface to anchor them and off their feet they can now concentrate on the ministrations being dealt and reciprocated. Jack's lips latch onto Ianto's sensitive nipples, and his hands drag blunt nails down the pale back; as the younger man wraps one hand around both their grinding erections, making both of them moan in appreciation. The husky sounds of Jack's passion always egged Ianto on, made him bolder, this time is no different and Jack is not surprised when the archivist slides down the length of Jack's body. The Welshman ends on his knees between Jack's spread legs and he wastes no time in engulfing the engorged column in his mouth. Jack gasps and bucks in pleasure, his hands dragging through Ianto's hair encouragingly.
"Fuck Ianto!" the immortal's pleasure at hands of that crafty tongue and plush lips only escalates at the site of Ianto's head bobbing above his groin, watching this dick disappear into that hot wetness, to reappear slicked with rapidly cooling dampness.
Ianto can feel Jack's intense gaze on him, watching as he sucks on the leaking cock. The younger man lifts his own eyes to meet Jack's and watches in satisfaction as the older man's lids flutter at a particularly sensuous swipe of the tongue around the sensitive glans. A slight drag of blunt teeth over the shaft have the ex-time agent panting harshly, his hold on Ianto's hair tightening considerably, so much so he decides to stop wilts he'd have his hair torn out by accident. The moment the prick falls out of his mouth with a soft 'pop', Jack leans down and kisses him roughly his tongue trusting in his mouth the same way his cock did a moment ago.
"Lube," is the only word that the American seems to be able to utter, and it's said with such demanding urgency that it makes Ianto tremble in anticipation. Ianto groans as he peals himself away from Jack and reaches for his pants, producing a small lube bottle from a pocket, always at the ready.
Impatiently Jack pulls Ianto to straddle his lap again; this time the tea boy kneels on the couch, his back to the captain, who takes the lube from him and quickly makes use of the slippery lotion to slick his finger. Ianto retrieves it and pours the cool liquid on his palm, he leans forward one hand bracing on Jacks knee as the other reaches between his parted thighs to grasp the captains large cock spreading the lube all over it.
Taking advantage of Ianto's slightly bent position Jack's fingers set on the task of slicking and stretching the ring of muscles. One finger then two; swirling, scissoring; in no time Ianto is thrusting back on Jack's digits. Jack doesn't mind that his aching and lubed up prick lays forgotten against his thigh, not when he has Ianto bent over before him, both arms bracing support on his knees, head hanging forward moaning and wringing on his fingers thrust up as far in as they would go. Jack can't resist the mouthwatering site and leans to plant kisses and nibbles on the round soft globes encompassing his fingers.
"Jack! Fuck, more Jack, hnnng!" the accent of heavy lilting vowels drive Jack beyond what he can take and pulling his fingers free –which makes Ianto whimper in protest- he wraps his large hands on the young man's hips and guides the pale arse back onto his groin.
Ianto helps along holding Jack's throbbing cock up to his quivering entrance and with a shuddering breath he lowers himself swiftly to the hilt onto Jack's member. They both moan heavily and long, Ianto shifts around making Jack groan with the sweet torture of the passage rippling around him. The Welshman braces his feet on the couch, now effectively squatting over Jack's groin, with both legs firmly planted he starts the age old rhythm, easily sliding up and down the hot shaft piercing him in the most intimate of places.
Jack wraps his arms around the lean torso, helping lift Ianto's weight up and then to bore it down onto himself, snapping his hips up to meet the thrust halfway. Ianto maintained a steady pace, interrupted occasionally to grind down, in a rotating matter that had Jack swearing his dick would melt. Soon the archivist increases his tempo, slamming himself down on the drilling cock hard and fast, moaning groaning loudly, and leaving Jack gasping harshly.
"Jesus Ianto! Damn just like that!" But amidst all this growing passion Jack frowns at the site before him, and suddenly he decides he wants to see more than Ianto's back, he wants to see his face, his expression as he takes his pleasure on him. Without warning he lifts the tea boy off him, his efforts earned him a string of Welsh swearing, and a glare.
"What the fuck Jack" it was almost a whine, laced more with desperate need than anger.
"I want to see you," is the only explanation the immortal offers as he maneuvers them around; lying himself flat on his back along the length of the sofa then bringing Ianto atop him again this time facing the captain.
"Now you can ride me and I can see your face Ianto," he said as matter of fact making Ianto blush.
Ianto takes Jack into himself again, hissing at being filled once more. The new position had him with his knees bent under him at Jack's sides again but, it allowed for him to brace his weight on his arms at either side of Jack's head. Like this it's harder to bounce on the cock up his arse, so he settles for rocking his hips and finds he prefers it this way. He can bore down easier and it aims Jack's cock forward easily and repeatedly brushing, pressing or poking his prostate depending on the rhythm of his swaying hips. He quickly picks up where he was so rudely interrupted, impaling himself so deeply onto Jacks cock that he can feel it behind his navel with every push back, causing him to cry out loudly, in both English and Welsh.
The immortal watch avidly as Ianto's face contorts in pleasure, sweat soaked hair plaster to his brow, eyes shut tightly, mouth agape as he struggles to breath and he wonders how could he had want to imagine something else that wasn't this enthralling spectacle performed solely for him. It's enough to make him want to explode then and there.
"Ianto, hnnm, Ianto" he is vaguely aware he is repeating himself but there is nothing else he can say for there is nothing else he can see, save this beautiful young man riding him to take his pleasure as he gives it back tenfold. He can feel Ianto's passage clench around him, the sweet friction against the tight slick muscles soon have him bucking up against the rider. Drilling into him hard and fast matching Ianto's desperate erratic pace.
"God, Jack harder! Shit deeper!" And Jack is relieved, that means Ianto is as close to completions as he is. Unable to last much longer Jack considers taking Ianto's cock in his hand, but before he can reach for the redden, hard shaft bobbing between them Ianto tenses and trembles.
"Aaaahh! Ja- Jack!" he cries hoarsely and spunk oozes out the slit of the untouched cock, pooling warm and thick on Jack's stomach.
The tunnel clamps down almost painfully on Jack's throbbing member and he cumms within Ianto, pulling him down buried balls deep as his cock squirts cum on the soft walls imprisoning his dick.
Ianto slumps on top of Jack. Trying to catch his breath and will his heart to slow down and stop rushing blood to his ears. The dizzy sluggishness he is not going to fight it, it's no use when breathing in Jack's heady scent. As he comes down from his climax, he begins to take note of the 'mess' they've made. Clothes strewn everywhere, the papers that where on Owen's workstation littler on the floor, the spilt coffee and broken mugs, not to mention the editing on the CCTV footage –so Tosh won't… gouge her eyes out, blackmail him or masturbate to them, he can't decide just yet. His thoughts are brought to a halt by Jack's arms wrapping warmly around him.
"Stop it with the OCD, we'll clean up later, just relax for once," Jack admonishes gently, sounding sated and content.
Ianto looks mildly surprise at Jack's guessing his thoughts, but nod in agreement.
"You know, we should do it like this more often. Boy you can move," he compliments lewdly. Ianto laughs.
"I take it you liked it,"
"Liked it?" Jack snorts at the understatement "don't be surprised if you find yourself in this 'position' more often than not," he chuckles at Ianto's blush.
"You are amazing," he adds more seriously and reaches to plant a tender kiss on the younger man's brow.
Let's see if you still think that tomorrow. Ianto thinks gloomily, shivering at how Jack will react when he finds out the tea boy sent Gwen directly to Flat Holm Island. Jack notices the shiver and mistaking it for a chill he rubs his hands on Ianto's back for warmth. The Welshman decides he will indulge in this rare tender moment with the captain, no matter what tomorrow may bring, for now lying in this just been fucked glow with Jack is good enough.
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