Word Count: ~1.000

Summary: Ianto and his new boss Jack all alone in the archives – whatever should they do?

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones

Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa Hallett (hinted)

Rating: R

Spoiler: Cyber Woman

Setting: before Cyber Woman

Warnings: Sexual situations

Author's Note: Written for the jack_ianto_las prompt: "And then suddenly I'm naked again."

Disclaimer: I'm not making money with this fanfic. The tv-show Torchwood and the characters appearing within it belong to their producers and creators. Any similarities to living or dead persons are purely coincidental and not intended.


Ianto resisted the urge to fetch a duster and clean the device he was studying. He readied his clipboard, instead, and added Covers for bigger objects to the list of things he needed to get for the archives. He knew that some things down here were just too big to fit into a box or crate, but there was no reason not to cover them up with something, just to avoid them gathering dust.

This thing looked like a cannon. It wasn't beautiful like some of the weapons stored here and in the armory, just plain functional. It didn't have a label with a bar code. Annoyed, Ianto realized that someone must have just dumped it here without leaving a paper trail. It wasn't the first time he'd found an item like this and he was afraid it wouldn't be the last. He missed the simple beauty of Torchwood One and the brightly lit archives there, the neatly labeled objects.

He glared at the flickering light bulb above him and prayed it wouldn't give out in the next fifteen minutes.

"Ianto Jones," a man's voice said and the American accent left no doubt who it was. "Hard at work," Jack added, settling his hand on the thick barrel of the cannon as he stopped next to him.

"I don't really have a choice, sir. The archives are … disorganized."

"They're a mess," Jack said. "No need to be nice about it, Ianto." He winked at him.

Ianto gifted him with a smile that he hoped was the right mix of shy and inviting. "I take it the team left," he assumed. Jack had hunted him down in the archives for the last five days – always as soon as he and Ianto were alone in the Hub. He seemed eager to seduce Ianto and Ianto let him think that he was making slow progress. Jack was the kind of guy who loved a challenge.

"We're alone," Jack said, his voice lowering. His hand moved down the barrel, leaving a dark smudge where it wiped the dust away. "Whatever should we do?" He stepped closer and met Ianto's eyes.

Ianto swallowed nervously, but he knew that he'd brought this down on himself. He'd flirted to get the job, leading Jack to believe that he wanted more than a professional relationship. Now, he had to deal with the consequences.

Jack's hand slid back up the barrel, almost caressing it. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, keeping the intimate quality to his voice.

"No," Ianto answered. He could smell Jack's aftershave – that story about pheromones surely wasn't true, nobody smelled that delicious – and felt himself sway towards him, just a bit.

"It's a defabricator," Jack answered.

"What does it do?"

"Pretty much what it says on the tin," Jack answered. He lowered his voice even more. "You just point it at someone and activate it: their clothes just melt away." He stared at Ianto's chest as if he was imagining that very thing happening right now. Then he raised his eyes to meet Ianto's again. "And then suddenly you're naked."

Which was exactly how Ianto felt with Jack's heavy gaze on him. He didn't know why his mouth was so dry all of a sudden. "It really does what it says on the tin."

"Yeah," Jack drawled. He was close enough to him now that Ianto could feel his body heat. He felt a bit breathless and more than a bit nervous … and embarrassingly aroused. He moved the clipboard to cover his groin, even though he was pretty sure that Jack knew what was going on, judging by the smile on his face. Jack's hand moved from the cannon to Ianto's hip and his other hand came up to cradle the back of his head, pulling him closer. And then they kissed. Ianto gasped softly against Jack's warm lips and Jack's tongue slid into Ianto's mouth. Ianto put his free hand on Jack's shoulder, intending to push him away, but instead, he pulled him closer and answered the kiss eagerly. For just a moment he was horrified by his own actions, but then Jack's hand slid from his hip to the small of his back and pulled him closer, their groins only separated by the clipboard now. Ianto forgot all about being horrified and whimpered. Jack chuckled and the deep throaty sound brushing Ianto's lips was enough to seal his fate. Ianto dropped the clipboard, burying his hand in Jack's hair instead and … oh God, what was he doing? He was actually enjoying this: the hard planes of Jack's body, the way his short strands were running through Ianto's fingers, the way he suddenly had Ianto pressed against a shelf, the way he kissed him …

Jack tugged on his hair, pulling his head away to speak. "Tell me I'm not getting this wrong."

Ianto's breath hitched. It was a way out. The words were on the tip of his tongue. "I'm sorry, you misunderstood. You're my boss, it wouldn't be right. I'm not into guys."

Jack was staring at him, his body warm against Ianto's, his hands splayed on Ianto's arse, his erection straining against Ianto's through two layers of underwear and trousers. Ianto had made his bed, now he had to lie in it (and he would enjoy it). He was doing this for Lisa (but for himself, too). He wasn't into guys (but, oh God, Jack was intoxicating).

Finally, he answered, "You're not getting this wrong."

Jack stared at him, almost as if he was looking for a lie, but then he smiled and took Ianto's hand. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable."

Ianto smiled bravely through a bout of nerves and guilt.

While Jack led him back upstairs, Ianto risked a glance over his shoulder to where Lisa's room was.

'I love you,' he thought sadly. 'I really do.'