Title: Anticipation 1/?
Genre: Slight Angst, smut, fluff, Episode Related.
Summary: From the beginning, the buildup of Jack and Ianto's relationship. Dare Jack say…anticipation is one of the finer things in life…
Word Count: 2,259 (so far)
Warnings: Masturbation, swearing, graphic thoughts of sex.
Comments: I need a little help here. I have an excellent idea of where I want to take this story. Problem is, I'm from the USA and I'm rubbish at British words. I'm trying to keep them somewhat in character. Anyone willing to help me make sure I don't make Ianto and everyone else (but Jack for the most part) sound American? Should I even continue?
Chapter 1 – You're not ready…
Regardless of what the young man thought, Jack wasn't going to try to ravish him the day they started working together. He'd been alive too long not to relish the slow buildup that came with anticipation. He'd been alive too long not to have learnt how to tease and admire what was laid so gloriously before him.
So he waited for a while before he approached Ianto…waited until the young man got used to the new surroundings.
Waited until Ianto wasn't expecting it.
It took two weeks before he approached the young man. Two weeks of anticipation building up, and until Ianto had gotten slightly more complacent with his demeanor. He wasn't exactly relaxed, but he did seem more comfortable around the Hub. Two weeks of lust filled looks and innuendos that literally dripped with arousal.
Everyone had gone home. Everyone except Ianto and Jack himself. He'd pulled up the CCTV to see where Ianto was and found him buried in the archives. He was sitting at a desk reading over some of the paperwork that they had filed with a gauntlet. The gauntlet in question sat ominously by his hand as he rifled through the papers, his eyebrow raised at whatever he was reading.
Jack smiled slightly and shrugged his braces off his shoulders as he stood up. That man in his suits made Jack's blood boil in a way he hadn't felt for a very long time. Every time he looked at Ianto he wanted to draw the younger man out of his shell and make him lose some of that rigid composure. He wanted to drive Ianto to distraction. He wanted to run his hands over the younger man's body until he was writhing, gasping for air, and begging Jack to fuck him. He wanted to hear Ianto moan as he swallowed him down his throat and made him buck into the warm mouth. He wanted to hear Ianto screaming his name as he slammed into the younger man's body.
Jack glanced at the CCTV one more time before walking out the door and heading down to the archives.
Time to make what he wanted known to Ianto.
Ianto had spent the past two weeks trying to understand the things that happened at Torchwood 3. Between caring for Lisa, moving her to the hub, organizing the archives (bloody hell were they a mess), and expecting Jack Harkness to demand what had been so temptingly dangled before him when they met, he hadn't known how to relax.
He had been expecting Jack to demand something the day he started. Instead, the older man had introduced him around the Hub, given him a tour, gone over what he expected from Ianto, and then left him to his own devices. Ianto hadn't known what hit him. After the way he finally convinced Jack to hire him it was a total shock to his system.
After a couple of weeks he had started to think that maybe Jack hadn't hired him for the reasons he originally thought. Maybe he had actually hired him because he liked his coffee… or because he had shown he was capable in unusual situations. Maybe Jack had actually seen some potential in him.
Maybe he hadn't only hired him because he looked good in a suit. Maybe the sexual tension he had felt so abundantly when they had caught the pterodactyl had just been his reaction to Jacks supposed 51st century pheromones. Maybe he had been imagining everything about those days as a completely different experience.
Maybe, just maybe, he didn't actually want Ianto carnally?
Despite the fact that he loved Lisa, that thought made him shiver and cringe and with annoyance.
Ianto had never been attracted to a man before. The very fact that he was, had, at first, thrown him completely around the bend. He'd thought that maybe it was the adrenaline in his system when they were fighting the weevil. Then, when he had reached towards Captain Harkness to check his neck wound, the older man had pulled away. Ianto's gut had clenched with disappointed and it was only when the man was walking away and Ianto complimented his greatcoat that he'd figured out why.
That damn sexy greatcoat had clicked it all in his mind.
He'd wanted to rush up to the man walking away, shove the weevil to the side, and yank off everything but that coat. Bloody hell, it had been all he could think about. All thoughts of why he was trying to get the job in the first place had disappeared as he imagined running his hands over the body underneath.
It was probably a good thing that Captain Harkness had been walking away. He missed the moment, minutes afterward, when Ianto fell to his knees in shock.
Then the next morning as he confronted Jack outside the tourist office, Jack had been wearing that damned greatcoat again. Ianto had to focus for a second before he could shove the thoughts he was thinking to the back of his mind. He found himself briefly forgetting why he needed this job again. Instead he had forcefully held out a cup of coffee to the man in front of him. He found himself anxiously wanting to please Captain Harkness with the coffee that he offered to him. Nervously awaiting the man's reaction in a way that made his head lighten when he got the result he was anticipating.
This time he was picturing shoving Captain Harkness against the wall behind him. He could imagine using his tongue to lick around those luscious lips in order to get all traces of coffee. He could imagine pushing his tongue into the man's mouth roughly and tangling their tongues enough to taste the difference between the man and the bittersweet taste of the coffee, which he knew was good.
That thought had been shocking enough to remind him why he was there in the first place and trying to get his foot in the door, for all the wrong reasons. He felt he may have covered up that brief insanity, that douse of arousal, enough so that Captain Harkness didn't notice it.
He'd felt a rush of pleasure that Captain Harkness had researched him, feeling like he mattered to the man. Arguing with the captain had brought other aspects but his determined mind kept flickering through different scenarios of what he could do to Captain Harkness. His brain fucking with him by suggestively pointing out all the little niches and walls around that he could shove the older man in or against so he could feel that body flush with his.
And the mere action of pulling his arm to stop him from walking, of placing his hand against the chest in front of him? That had simply been his minds way of fighting back, his minds way of denying his capability of shoving those thoughts away. Even he knew it was nothing more than his body's way of giving in to the urge to touch some form of the captain.
Then, Captain Harkness was walking away from him again and his mind scrambled to that bloody greatcoat again. "I really like that coat."
Minutes later, finding himself leaning his body against the wall next to him and looking out at the bay, he'd finally shaken the desire that was still ripping through his groin. His mind being absolutely no fucking help when it suggested that maybe tomorrow he could touch more of Captain Harkness. Maybe tomorrow he could actually run his hand down that arm and across that chest.
Then there was Captain Harkness yelling at him in the rain later that night and all his bloody mind could think of was shutting him up by shoving him against the Torchwood truck and rubbing up against his body until they both moaned and came, soaked from the rain. By this time he had grown used to the thoughts. His blood rushed south as he let his thoughts wander and Captain Harkness had threatened to wipe his memory. He'd chosen the suit because he knew he could cover up that arousal better then the damn jeans he'd been wearing the other times he'd seen Captain Harkness.
Christ, then Captain Harkness had fallen and Ianto had caught him…fallen right on top of Ianto. He lay there loving the adrenaline rush and laughing at the irony of the whole situation. Until his fucking mind had once again taken over and he was suddenly on top of Captain Harkness, rolling them away from the pterodactyl that was falling from the rafters. His lower mind had so helpfully suggested that if he just shifted his hips a little, then he could probably come just from this contact alone.
He'd damn near kissed the older man underneath his body, whose chin lifted slightly and whose harsh breath was hitting him softly in the face as Ianto leaned in slightly. The thought of coming, writhing on the body below him, while lying next to a knocked out pterodactyl, was enough to make him pull away. For some reason the thought of such an out of time animal, made Lisa come to the forefront of his mind again. Almost like he was associating this creature with the one he supposedly loved, the one that lay hooked up to machines back at his flat. One ahead of its time, one behind.
It was only as he was walking away, finally offered a job that he let it overwhelm him. He cried because he knew this wasn't what he had expected. He'd start this whole escapade in order to save Lisa, and yet every time he got around Captain Harkness, his body took over his thoughts. He was so fucking confused…so fucking annoyed.
He felt so fucking guilty.
Ever since he started at Torchwood 3, Ianto had woken up several times in the middle of the night, his cock hard against his stomach and aching, breathing heavily from the dreams that invaded his sleep. Dreams of Jack bloody Harkness. Dreams that showed him arching into the man's touch as he pressed their bodies together and closed the distance between them. Dreams of Jack not letting him pull away while they lay on the floor mere feet from the pterodactyl. The memory of Jack's scent when he was lying on top of him still taunted him in those moments of half awareness. His hand going down to his erection and squeezing, making him hunch over in the bed as he came suddenly, harshly, with Jacks name on his lips.
The mornings after those dreams he would go into the Hub and tend to Lisa. His eyes would close for a moment as he would find some way to give her extra attention, some way to make up for his betrayal. The extra attention getting more intricate as the dreams became more common.
"It's late." Jack said as leaned against one of the filing cabinets stacked in the archives.
The voice yanked Ianto out of his thoughts and he stood up suddenly, almost knocking the gauntlet over that sat beside his hand."Y…yes sir."
"Why are you still here?" Jack tilted his head as he asked the question, his blue eyes studying the young man before him.
Ianto caught his gaze and turned away suddenly at the depth of it. "I…I just wanted to finish up a few things before going home." And I have to make sure my girlfriend isn't in any pain tonight. Ianto continued with his thoughts as he turned back to the paperwork and shoved it in a folder.
Ianto felt Jacks hands on his shoulders and nearly jumped at the touch. His body reeled at the fact that he hadn't even heard the other man move towards him. How had he gotten behind him so suddenly and so quietly?
The hands tightened their grip slightly and released. Jack leaned into Iantos body and pressed up against him and his hands ran softly down the younger mans arms. Ianto shivered as he felt jacks breath ghost over his ear. "I know Ianto."
Ianto's mind seized up as he tried not to flinch. Jack knew about Lisa? How?
He closed his eyes, preparing for the man behind him to berate him, to cuff him, to do anything in retaliation. Instead his eyes flew back open as Jack pressed his body into Iantos. He could feel Jacks hardness pressing into arse, his breathing becoming shallower as the older man thrust against his body again.
"I know that you think about me. I know that your body is aching for mine." Jacks hands ran around Iantos waist as he tugged the younger man against him again. "I know what you thought when you started. I know what's been on your mind the past couple weeks."
Ianto tried not to shudder at the feel of Jacks body hard against him. He tried not to let his bloody mind take over his actions. Tried not to press back against the body behind, only realizing a moment too late that it already had. The sensation was so different from a woman's body, harder, rougher, yet he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
Jack pulled away from him suddenly. He was walking away from Ianto before Ianto could comprehend the abrupt loss of body contact and the sensations crashing through him.
Jack was almost ten steps away when he spoke softly. Ianto still heard him clearly enough. "You're not ready yet." The words were almost a whisper.