Not a word

This morning

Jack Harkness looked at the cold, naked body of the young man on the bed and, in that one moment, saw everything. A spasm of pain shot through him and lodged in his heart. 'Yes' he said, his voice roughened and broken with grief and inconsolable loss, 'yes, I know him. His name is Ianto Jones'

Last night

'….so then the cyborg said "That's not really my data entry port" and I said "That's OK, this isn't really my communications device"!'

Jack grinned around at his team as they fell about laughing. It had been a really tough week, rift activity had been at an all time high but somehow they had managed to get through it, all injuries had been minor and Jack had only died twice. As a thank-you for their hard work, Jack had booked everyone into the St David's Hotel for a meal and an overnight stay. The food had been sumptuous and now everyone was seated on the huge sofa in Jack's suite, drinking copious amounts of champagne and swapping dubious stories about their love lives. Even Jack was drinking for a change; Gwen and Owen were squashed up either side of Jack and giggling uncontrollably whilst Tosh had made herself comfortable on the floor, close to Owen. Suddenly, Jack realised they were one short,

'Where's Ianto?' he slurred, 'Why hasn't he told us a story'

Owen snorted, 'Based on what he hid at the hub' he snarked, 'Teaboy is all about shagging domestic appliances – bet he gets it on with the coffee machine!'

Gwen sniggered but Tosh said quietly, 'he left about an hour ago, Jack. He did say good night'

'Oh, did he?' said Jack dismissively, 'OK. Have I ever told you about the sisters from Spling?'

Ianto Jones curled himself into a foetal position in the middle of the king size bed in an effort to get warm. Even though the room was, like so many hotel rooms, over heated Ianto just could not stop shivering. Thinking about it he couldn't remember the last time he had not felt cold, certainly not since Lisa had been…executed. 'Jack should have put me in the cryo-chambers' he thought miserably to himself. 'I feel like I'm in cold storage anyway; physically, psychologically and emotionally frozen. I shouldn't have come tonight; none of them would have really cared if I'd made an excuse, I'm not really a member of the team and being here with them all has just confirmed that. I just wish I could belong somewhere again. I wish Jack...no, any of them, would just include me, make me feel like I could matter again. Tosh was the only one who even noticed when I left tonight' He pulled the duvet closer around himself and drifted into an uneasy doze.

Ianto had no clear feel for how long he had been asleep when he was jolted into wakefulness by someone sliding into bed behind him; a wave of pheromones and champagne assaulted his senses but before he could say anything Jack's fingers were placed lightly on his lips.

'Hush' whispered Jack tipsily, as he pulled Ianto close to him. 'Not a word'. Ianto could feel Jack's erection pressing against his hip. Jack lay close up against Ianto's back and Ianto could feel the warmth of Jack's body seeping into him, warming him through. He glided a teasing hand over Ianto's chest, caressing his nipples until they hardened, alternating gentle rubbing with sharp tweaks until Ianto gave a low groan of desire. Moving his hand lower, Jack began stroking the soft skin of Ianto's belly whilst murmuring against his back, 'watched you for so long, wanted to touch you for so long, I'll make this good for you, I promise' His fingers drifted downwards and gently and softly began to caress Ianto to hardness. Ianto gave a soft whimper; 'shh' soothed Jack, again. 'Not a word'

Jack began to stroke Ianto's cock, running his thumb around his foreskin and over the velvety tip, which was already leaking pre-cum. Ianto tensed, it had been so long since Ianto had experienced any kind of affection or sexual contact he wasn't sure how long he could last but he knew he didn't want this to end to quickly. As Jack explored the length and hardness of Ianto's penis his delighted laugh reverberated against his back and Ianto felt another piece of the ice that seemed to have formed around his heart splinter and melt away. Jack ghosted his fingers down Ianto's shaft and gently cupped his balls fondling them with his large warm hands, stroking the sensitive skin of his perineum and sending sparks of arousal curling around Ianto's spine. Ianto sighed contentedly and pushed himself back against Jack, craving more of his touch.

'Remember' said Jack 'Not a word'

Jack bought one of his hands back between them and slowly and carefully inserted his finger into Ianto's ass. Ianto gave a gasp and pushed back again.

'Hmm' laughed Jack, 'like that do we?'

Ianto gave a deep sensual groan as Jack carefully added another two fingers angled to press upon his prostate. Ianto felt a rush of pleasure as he thrust himself forward into Jack's fist and countered that against using Jack's fingers to fuck himself hard. He breathing hitched and he began to sob as he approached his orgasm. Suddenly Jack pulled his fingers out of Ianto's ass and plunged his own cock deep inside him. Ianto screamed aloud at the intrusion and the two men found a mutual rhythm and fucked hard and deep. Jack was skilled at keeping both of them in the edge, changing the speed and angle of his thrusts until, Ianto, with a garbled cry, came copiously into Jack's hand and across his own abdomen, and Jack, almost simultaneously spurted hot and abundantly inside him.

For a while they lay, exhausted, Jacks arm across Ianto's torso holding him close. The room was redolent with the smell of sweat and semen and the sound of their laboured breathing. Eventually, Jack moved, slipping out of Ianto, leaving him feeling bereft and empty. Scooping a dollop of semen from Ianto's stomach he reached up to coat Ianto's' lips with it, sliding his finger into Ianto's mouth and depositing some on his tongue 'taste yourself' he whispered and then took another gobbet of come onto his finger and sucked it into his mouth lewdly, slurping close to Ianto's ear 'mmm you taste so good.' Ianto didn't think he had ever heard anything so erotic in his entire life.

Jack had his mouth under Ianto's ear and was mumbling drunkenly and disjointedly against his skin 'I thought you weren't interested but, gods, what you do to me. I knew this would be good. You are so beautiful, so beautiful'. Ianto shifted a little on the bed to let Jack pull him even closer and found that he could still feel Jack's come inside him. He felt as if he was breaking out of a dark confining shell of fear and depression into sunlight as a broad smile bloomed across his face. He could hardly believe it - Jack Harkness, the wonderful, the beautiful, the intoxicating Jack Harkness had wanted him, Jack Harkness had been reduced to a babbling heap by him, by Ianto Jones, confused and unloved boy from the valleys. Ianto felt like he wanted to yell his triumph to the world. He was so caught up in this unfamiliar state of happiness that he barely realised that Jack had slid out of the bed and back into his clothes.

'We are definitely gonna do that again very soon' Jack threw over his shoulder as he headed somewhat erratically towards the door.

Ianto cherished the warm flood of ecstasy that Jack's light-hearted promise sent glowing through him, he knew with Jack in his life he would be able to break out of the self-defeating cycle of depression and start to live again. He was warm and joyful, boneless with passion and contentment and couldn't even summon up the energy to turn to watch Jack leave. He heard Jack open the door, pause then say shyly and sincerely,

'Thank you, Owen'

This morning

'Poor young man' said the duty manager, sadly as he looked at the empty bottles at the side of the bed, 'alcohol, sleeping tablets and painkillers, he wasn't taking any chances was he? He really made sure he took more than enough to kill himself.

'Ianto was always efficient' said Jack bleakly.

The duty manger looked at him disapprovingly and shook his head. 'So young' he sighed, 'such a sad, sad waste'

Jack thrust his hands deep into the pocket of his greatcoat; his finger nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He knew the man next to him was genuinely upset and sorry but Jack wanted to beat him to death to shut him up. If he hadn't been so drunk, if he had turned left to Owen's room last night as he had intended to instead of right this would not have happened.

The manager continued, ' I wonder what drove him to it; I couldn't see a note anywhere. You worked with him didn't you? Did he say anything to you?'

'No.' said Jack. He thought about the connection and the thrill he had felt during his encounter with Ianto and the enormity of what he had lost hit him once again. Tears began to trickle down his face, 'Not a word'