Hiya! These are three drabbles I wrote very, very quickly for the multi-fandom 'Kissing Meme' over at livejournal. I've posted all three Torchwood ones together as they are all quite short. Enjoy!

Drabble One

Title: 'And The Winner Is...

Summary: Sometimes, no one loses.

Notes/Warnings: Set after the stopwatch scene in 'They Keep Killing Suzie'. Unbeta'd.

Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russel T. Davies and the BBC. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.


Jack clenched his hands in Ianto's short hair, a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper escaping as Ianto's teeth scraped lightly over his bottom lip. He could feel the other man smile against his lips and he swore under his breath.

'Two minutes, sixteen seconds is all it took to make you whimper,' Ianto murmured, mouth moving against Jack's as he clicked the button on his stopwatch. 'That was not your most determined effort, was it, sir? Colour me disappointed if that is an example of your stamina.'

'It's that teeth thing you did,' Jack complained, pushing Ianto off his lap then launching out of his office chair. 'I can't bloody resist it. And there is nothing wrong with my stamina – as I'll take great pleasure in proving to you over the next few hours.'

Ianto smirked – an unfamiliar, but incredibly hot look on him – and Jack grabbed a handful of his bright blue shirt, pulling the younger man closer until their bodies were flush.

'Don't look so smug,' he said, voice low and deep, and he watched in satisfaction as Ianto's blue eyes darkened. 'It's my turn now.'

'Is that supposed to intimidate me?' Ianto asked, making an attempt at bravado as Jack steered him back, back, back until he was pressed against the glass behind Jack's desk.

'Did it?' retorted Jack, leaning in until his lips were grazing Ianto's.

He rolled his hips ever-so-slightly against Ianto's, their mirroring erections dragging together through the fabric of their trousers. Jack's mouth twitched up into a smile when felt his new lover's chest expand as he sucked in a sharp breath.

'Not in the least,' Ianto said hoarsely, his left hand sliding along the panes of glass in search of a finger-hold as he swallowed hard.

Jack grinned wickedly then prised the stopwatch from Ianto's tightly-clenched right fist. 'You've got nothing to worry about then, have you?' he whispered, pressing his lips just a little bit harder against Ianto's before he clicked the button on the top of the stopwatch.

There was a clunk as the heavy timepiece fell from Jack's hand to the surface of his desk then Jack's tongue licked lightly at Ianto's closed lips, each stroke accompanied by the soft tickticktick of the stopwatch. He slowly traced the outline of the soft pink mouth with the tip of his tongue then slid it across the seam of Ianto's pursed lips.

When Ianto stood firm against Jack's tongue's ministrations, Jack resisted the urge to grin at the other man's stubbornness and concentrated on his bottom lip. He lapped at the slightly-swollen flesh until it was wet and shining then angled his head so he could take the lip – was it trembling a tiny bit? - between his teeth.

Jack worried the flesh for a moment. He'd spent months staring at this very lip, wondering what it would look like kiss-bruised and raw, and he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to see if his imagination really was as vivid as he thought it was. He nipped lightly along the curve of Ianto's lip, following up the nibbles with a soothing lave of his tongue. Jack glanced up through his eyelashes at Ianto, pleased to see the other man's eyes were tightly closed and that he was showing signs of strain. Not bad, but anyone else would have been just about ready to melt into a puddle by now from a patented Jack Harkness kiss.

Time to get serious.

Jack sucked Ianto's lip into his mouth, careful to keep the pressure teasing and tantilising. He stroked his tongue over the sweet-tasting flesh in abstract patterns and tried not to laugh when he felt Ianto unconsciously rocking his pelvis against Jack's thigh. He increased his suction and at the same time, let his teeth graze the fullest part of Ianto's lip before he pulled back to admire his handiwork. Ianto looked even more wanton and fuckable than he'd ever imagined and Jack hastily leaned back in to give that reddened lip a sharper bite.


Ianto reacted at last, his lips parting on a tremulous exhale, and Jack wasted no time. He quickly flicked his tongue into the warm, wet cavern, tasting strong coffee and chocolate, and he had trouble holding back his own groan of pleasure. The hand that had been scrabbling against the glass now gripped Jack's shirt, Ianto twisting the fabric roughly in an attempt to hang on to his rapidly fraying control. Jack sensed he was close to victory and threw gentle and soft out the window, grasping Ianto's chin in his hand and crashed their lips together.

The kiss was deep and hot and so deliciously messy, Jack's tongue enthusiastically exploring every single inch of Ianto's mouth. He licked at the corners of Ianto's lips before plunging his tongue back inside to stroke over the roof of Ianto's mouth. Jack thought he heard a nearly inaudible sound catch in Ianto's throat. He took careful note of the spot for future reference before he brought out the big guns in the form of a particularly nimble tongue twist he'd learned from a woman somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy.

Ianto cracked; the guttural moan that spilled from his lips making Jack's stomach twist with need and his cock throb. Lips still devouring Ianto's, Jack blindly reached for the stopwatch to check the time, but Ianto beat him to it. He slammed his thumb down on the button on the top then tossed it back onto the desk before grabbing the front of Jack's shirt and twisting them around fast.

Jack's breath rushed from his lungs as his back hit the glass where Ianto had been just a moment earlier. He huffed out a laugh before Ianto stole his breath away in a searing kiss that make Jack's knees weaken. His tongue ran over Jack's teeth then stroked along the inside of his lip. Jack made a strangled sound that he knew would be embarrassed about later, but for right now, all he could think about was getting Ianto to moan like that again.

'You win,' Ianto growled breathlessly as they pulled apart several minutes later.

Jack, chest heaving as he panted, pushed himself off the glass then shoved Ianto into the chair behind the desk. He dropped to his knees between Ianto's legs, fingers making short work of the other man's belt.

'I think we both win,' he said with a broad grin as he tugged down Ianto's zipper.

Neither man noticed that the stopwatch had rolled off the desk and onto the floor. The time read three minutes, forty-five seconds.


Drabble Two

Title: In Which Ianto Takes Charge

Summary: Jack needs to learn how to keep his hands to himself.

Notes/Warnings: Unbeta'd. Some sexual references and content. Nothing graphic. Clothes stay on. Sorry.

Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russel T. Davies and the BBC. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.


The door had only just clicked quietly shut when Jack was thrown off-balance. He stumbled, held upright by strong hands on his biceps, then his back slammed into the door hard. The impact forced a sharp exhale from him and he sucked in a shuddering, desperate breath as Ianto leaned in. Their noses touched and Ianto teasingly brushed the tip of his back and forth over Jack's.

'You were so bad tonight,' Ianto whispered as his hands slid down Jack's arms to grip his wrists tightly. 'You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself, Captain, or there won't be any restaurants in Cardiff that will allow us within one hundred metres.'

'Prudes,' Jack managed to gasp out.

He was still a little breathless: both from Ianto's rough treatment of him – which had caused another physiological reaction a little further south – and from anticipation. Under his suits and waistcoats, the cool, calm and collected Ianto Jones was wild and as sexy-as-hell and, on the odd memorable occasion that he'd determinedly wrestled control away from Jack, it had been the most incredible fucking experience of Jack's extraordinary life.

It's always the quiet ones.

Ianto snorted softly, butting his nose alongside Jack's as his lips nibbled their way over Jack's top lip. 'It's not prudish to not want a side of frottage with your pasta, sir,' he mumbled, tongue flicking teasingly over the bow of Jack's lip.

Jack shivered and lunged forward to catch Ianto's lips, but the other man leaned back to avoid him.

'Oh, no,' Ianto said, angling his head so he could trace his tongue over the corner of Jack's mouth. 'I don't think so, sir.'

There was a dangerous edge to Ianto's voice that send a spike of lust juddering down Jack's spine, making his ass clench and cock harden. He grabbed at Ianto's jacket lapels, crushing them in the effort to stay upright on his unsteady legs. Ianto chuckled, his breath – sweet and sharp from the hazelnut-flavoured coffee they'd had with dessert - wafting over Jack's lips. Jack breathed deep, taking a little bit of Ianto into his lungs, letting each pump of his heart carry Ianto through his veins until he resided in every single inch of Jack's body.

Ianto raised their hands until he was pinning them against the door on either side of Jack's head. His mouth slid over Jack's, giving him small, biting kisses punctuated with leisurely sweeps of his tongue until Jack's toes were curling inside his boots and he truly thought he might go insane. Just when Jack was ready to scream in frustration, Ianto sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and bit down.

'Fuck!' Jack yelped loudly, pleasure and pain shooting through his body, the potent mix tightening the coiling tension in his belly.

He felt Ianto smile then Jack almost cried in relief as his lips were finally covered by Ianto's soft, glorious mouth. The blazing kiss stole the last of the breath from him and Jack surrendered to the insistent tongue and fiercely demanding lips of his young lover. Ianto loosened his grip on Jack's wrists, stretching his fingers so that he could twine them with Jack's as the kiss deepened.

Tongues stroked and tasted, a building sense of urgency underpinning the slow exploration. Jack dragged his teeth over Ianto's lip and felt more than a little smug when the other man moaned softly. Ianto retaliated by running the tip of his tongue over the back of Jack's teeth, Jack reacting viscerally to the erotic sensation.

'Ianto...' he breathed imploringly, hips bucking in search of friction for his aching cock, but Ianto held his own body away from Jack's.

Jack hissed a complaint, trying to tug his hands free, but Ianto tightened his grip, pressing wet, warm kisses along Jack's cheekbone.

'Not tonight, Captain,' Ianto purred as he rubbed his jaw over Jack's, the whispering rasp of their barely-there stubble making Jack groan. 'Tonight, you learn how to keep your hands to yourself.'


Drabble Three

Title: The Plan

Summary: Ianto had a plan...

Notes/Warnings: Unbeta'd.

Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russel T. Davies and the BBC. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.


Ianto took a deep, emboldening breath, the fingers of one hand tightening around the handle of the coffee cup while the other rapped lightly against the slightly ajar door of Jack's office.

'Yep?' came the call and Ianto pushed the door open.

Even now, distracted as he was, he registered the soft squeak and made a mental note to find some oil tomorrow. Or was that today? Ianto checked his watch. Later today, it was. He hadn't realised it was so late. It was easy to lose track of time down in the dark and dank of the Hub.

'Coffee, sir,' he said quietly as Jack looked up with a smile. It was a warm night and he'd stripped down to his undershirt, his braces dangling. 'Or would you prefer a tea? It's quite late. Or early, depending on how you look at it.'

Jack chuckled tiredly and stood up, stretching his long limbs and giving Ianto an unexpected treat as his white shirt rode up and revealed a strip of light brown skin. Any confidence Ianto had felt when he walked through the door was expelled in a shuddering breath as gaze lingered on the exposed skin, eyes hungrily tracing the defined muscles of Jack's stomach.

He'd had a Plan. It had sounded simple ten minutes ago while he was making the coffee. Exhausted from fighting the powerful allure of his boss, Ianto was finally going to snap the sexual tension that had been building between them for months now into tiny pieces. He would walk into Jack's office, hand him the coffee, tell him that he needed a break then kiss him until one or both of them forgot their names. Ianto anxiously clenched and unclenched the fist at his side. The Plan didn't seem quite so simple now he was standing here in front of Jack with his screen idol looks and smooth skin and that smile that made knickers drop all over Cardiff.

Why on earth would Jack Harkness – who could have anyone in the galaxy and beyond - want a pale, slightly-pudgy-around-the-middle Welshman from the estates?

'Coffee would be perfect, Ianto,' Jack said, and Ianto started, realising that while his mind was wandering, Jack had rounded his desk and was now standing right in front of him. 'I've still got a few reports to finish before the meeting with the PM today and I've been informed that my archivist will punish me severely if they aren't done.'

There was that bloody smile, and damn, if Ianto's pants didn't slip down a little of their own accord.

'I'm sure you could placate him, sir,' Ianto murmured, handing Jack his mug with a hand he was pleased to see was only a little tremulous. Their fingers brushed together and Ianto swallowed hard.

Jack sipped the fresh coffee then sighed blissfully, closing his eyes as he sank down on the edge of the desk. 'That is brilliant, Ianto,' he said, head dropping back a little.

The long column of his throat was bared and Ianto's mouth went dry. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he desperately tried to hang on to some self-control and he might have succeeded if Jack had not let out that soft groan.

Ianto couldn't remember quite how it had happened – one second he was staring at Jack's throat, the next, his lips were pressing against Jack's and he was staring into wide blue eyes.

Oh, fuck!

Ianto pulled away, staring at Jack uncertainly. The other man cocked his head, gazing at Ianto appraisingly then he very deliberately placed his mug on the desk. He turned back to Ianto, reaching out and hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of Ianto's trousers then dragging the compliant man closer until he was wedged oh-so-comfortably between Jack's parted thighs.

Jack raised his chin to look Ianto in the eye, the corners of his mouth turning up minutely as he said, 'It's about bloody time.'

Relief washed over Ianto with those words and he smiled, watching as Jack's face split into a broad grin.

'Want to try that again?' Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ianto nodded then his eyelids fluttered shut as he lowered his head, kissing Jack soft and slow and sweet, and sighing contentedly when Jack's large hands cradled his face gently as he kissed him back.

It was a languid, sensuous exploration - tongues stroking and lazily tangling, teeth nibbling lightly, lips caressing and tasting - and, when they finally parted, Jack whispered breathlessly against Ianto's jaw, 'Now, that was worth waiting for.'