andreth_47 (andreth_47) wrote in torchwood_fic, @ 2008-08-31 23:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | author:andreth_47, length:one-shot, pairing:ianto/john, rating:r |
Fic: Some Fetishes Should Be Kept to Yourself
Title: Some Fetishes Should Be Kept to Yourself
Author: andreth_47
Pairing: Ianto/Captain John Hart
Rating: hard R
Word Count: 2,400
Summary: The lift scene from "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang", with one small porny addition. *dirty cackle* Strictly speaking, not porn, but...well, just trust me,okay? It's porn. SPOILERS FOR KKBB, Torchwood S02/E01.
Disclaimer: Fair Use
Warnings: Gun!porn, lots of filthy language, spoilers for KKBB.
Betas: mhorrighan, randombastary, omarandjohnny
Dedicated to: seize on LJ, whose comment about my icon planted this fic in my brain, where it grew kinky roots and refused to leave until I'd written it.
Written for the Bring Back The Porn challenge.
John Hart, as he's calling himself in this here/now, lurks silently outside the office door, listening while Jack and the minion with the pretty mouth search an empty office. John's really enjoying the conversation. The tasty bit in the suit is cockblocking Jack like John's never heard anybody cockblock Jack, and it's providing him with plenty of entertainment as he eavesdrops.
They're looking for his little canisters. Their primitive instruments told them there's one nearby. Weren't sophisticated enough to pinpoint it to the roof, which is where John's own minion had planted the thing. The rest of Team Torchwood have fallen for the other two plants and been effectively sidelined. Now he needs to get the Welshman out of the way, grab the final canister, get the centerpiece, and run. Preferably with Jack at his side.
On the other side of the office door, Jack is trying for flirtatious and seductive, but it's not working for shit. The Welsh kid--Ianto--is completely shutting him down. He can't believe his ears--that tender young thing has Jack Sex-on-a-Stick Harkness fumbling for words. Well, now, isn't that a fine little piece of irony? John stifles the urge to snort out loud.
"I was thinking...me and you...dinner? A movie?"
John's amused to hear Jack so uncertain, but he's got more important things to do than listen to his old flame get his ego taken in a size. John needs to separate these two quarrelling lovebirds: he needs to get Harkness up to the roof. Alone, for preference, although Prettyboy doesn't seem like he'd be trouble. Well, not too much trouble, although he's certainly giving Jack a bit of it.
John's lips twist in genuine mirth when the kid says, "As long as it's not in an office. Some fetishes should be kept to yourself," thwarting Jack yet again. He'd bet Jack hasn't put this much effort into a conquest in years. And he's never heard Jack act so humble. He's practically begging the kid for a date.
A 'date'! Gods, Jack really has gone native. He supposes this is all a necessary precursor for 21st-century sex. John shakes his head. You gotta buy someone a meal before they can decide if they want to fuck you? Newsflash, kiddiekids: if you don't already know whether you want someone, having dinner is going to make fuck-all difference. Or is this dinner ritual some primitive form of bribery? He really doesn't get this where/when.
And since when did Jack have to resort to bribery to get a leg over, anyway? Sad commentary on growing old and soft in the belly. He gives his own rock-hard stomach a caress in satisfaction. No middle-aged flab there, thank you very much, even if the hair on his temples is thinner than it used to be.
And then John silently calls blessings down on Ianto's well-groomed head, because he just did all John's work for him. "Why don't you do the roof? You're good on roofs."
John smiles to himself. So Jack's still got that habit, has he. John had almost forgotten what a moody asshole Jack can be. Oops, better get back out of sight, he can hear Jack nearing the door. Jack's doing just what the kid told him to. Unbelievable. Eyecandy's definitely got a pair on him: now he's challenging Jack on why they're helping John in the first place.
"Because he's a reminder of my past. I want him gone." Oh, and that fucks John off royally. Wants him gone, does he? Wants to forget the past? Well, permit me to doubt it, Jack my lad. That past was a bit too sweetly full of money and sex and heedless violence to be forgotten.
Jack sweeps out in that ridiculous coat (drama queen that he is), bangs open the door to the stairwell, and takes the stairs upwards two at a time. Perfect! He's taken the bait, now John just has to set the hook. He flips open his wriststrap and calls the lift. Gotta make a noise to draw Cuteboy out of the room, ambush him, and then send him off on a pressing errand to get him the hell outta the way. His teammates dying ought to be urgent enough to send him running.
Then it'll be up to the roof to waylay Jack before Jack can find the canister and take it back to his Secret Underground Base. (John does snort this time, quietly. Pretentious doesn't even begin to cover it.) And then convince Jack to come away with him, off this dingy backwater planet and out to the real universe.
John hears Ianto pull off the safety, rack a bullet into the chamber, then cautiously press through the door. He peers round the corner to watch him. He can hear his rapid breathing, see him lick his lips and swallow hard. Gods and goddesses of hell, just look at that mouth! Jack always did have fine taste. John feels himself hardening as he scents the lovely kid's fear: trying not to show it, but he's scared as hell. John admires bravery, and this boy doesn't let Harkness or anybody else intimidate him. He rather envies Jack, suddenly. Ianto's quite a find.
John watches Ianto cautiously check out the corridor, then take a harsh breath and slip around to point his gun into the lift. John springs out of cover and shoves his blast pistol into the back of the kid's head. Feels the inevitable power rush--he could kill him now, blast him, just end him--no. John pushes down the temptation. Jack might hear it, and besides, Ianto's too pretty to kill without a good reason.
"Into the lift, Eyecandy."
The kid immediately puts his hands up. Good reflexes. John disarms him. Kid spins around to face him. He presses his pistol close to Ianto's forehead, pushes like he's pushing it into his skull. Gives the kid the motivation to get lost, and get lost quickly.
"Your friends are bleeding. Dying." John shoves the gun against Ianto's forehead, pushes him backwards, into the lift. "And you barely have enough time to save them."
Pretty Ianto is furious. He's fighting mad: scared too, but mostly just enraged. His eyes are open wide, but he's drawing those sweet lips back into a fighting, bared-tooth grin of hatred. And oh, John likes that, yes indeed, Eyecandy. Yeah, fight me, push back at me! John wishes to hell he had time to carry this testosterone battle through to its proper conclusion. Throw some punches. Throw the kid down on the floor, maybe, pin his body beneath his own and show him what great fun hate sex can be. Shit, what a time to have a hard-on! There's just not time for games right now, dammit.
The kid might be scared and fighting mad, but he's not panicking. He tries his comm, calls "Owen...Gwen..." Yeah, this is what a contest should be, winning against a worthy opponent. He respects Ianto, but...winning is what it's all about. Winning, and money. So John controls his rebellious cock. He controls the kid, and he controls the situation, holding his pistol steady, pressed hard to the center of Ianto's forehead.
"What am I, a child? That's a primitive bit of technology, easily blocked. You should be embarrassed. And when you get to the bottom, RUN. You look like a man who enjoys a challenge: see if you can save them. Come back up here, I'll shoot on sight."
He presses the lift button. Ianto bares his teeth at him, and John gives him a tight fighting grin of his own.
"Going down. Yes, please."
Going down, oh, yes please indeed...there's nothing he'd like better right at this moment, than to press Ianto down to his knees with his gun in his face, and tell him to suck him off. A shock, an electric thrill, flashes through John at the thought.
Eyecandy slams the doors open and shoves violently forward. The thrill morphs into a lightning bolt of lust and adrenaline that John knows has struck both of them. Ianto's body jerks and tightens with it, and his eyes gleam. Ooooh, what a lovely surprise! John's own eyes widen in unholy glee.
Ianto grits out, "Why are you doing this?"
Oh, the dear boy doesn't understand John's motives yet. Not worldly-wise enough. That's right, he's working for Torchwood, working for loverboy's little 'team' of protectors, saving the world under supposedly-reformed Jack. We'll see how that goes, Prettyboy. We'll see how long Jack's altruism lasts when I offer him piles of filthy lucre and the freedom of the stars to go along with it. Meanwhile, let me give you some home truths to think about, you lovely little piece of bravery and beauty, you.
John moves forward. Raises the pistol to Ianto's face. Here, suck on this, Eyecandy. Have a taste of the Truth.
"We're a cosmic joke, Eyecandy. An accident of chemicals and evolution."
Ianto's mouth opens. He draws a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes close, then open partway, lowered lids hiding his emotions. He looks...distracted. Angry, afraid, but also...aroused, like he's kind of getting off on this. His lips are wet and open, and those half-lidded eyes look like pure sin to John. And again that jolt of connection shoots through him. He locks gazes with the kid, touches the barrel to Ianto's face, strokes it over his smooth young cheek, along the jawline, back up to the other lovely cheekbone.
"The jokes, the sex, just cover the fact that nothing means anything."
And he really, really has to get going, but John just can't resist sliding his pistol past those open lips into Ianto's mouth. Just to see...see what that beautiful mouth looks like stretched open, wrapped around a weapon...just to see. And the kid lets the gun-barrel slide inside. His eyes flick down to John's crotch, and John is acutely aware that he's just about as stiff as his pistol. He steals a quick look downwards himself...yeah. Oh yeah. Ianto's hard too, and John's cock swells even fuller at the realization. He grits his teeth. This is a distraction he doesn't need, dammit. But...
John steadies the pistol, pushes it farther between those luscious lips. Out a little. Back in. The kid's frozen, whether with rage, fear, or simple shock, John doesn't know, but he does know that he's so fucking turned on his knees are actually trembling. How he'd love to just take this lovely, screwed-up bundle of beauty and rage, fuck him hard and fast and brutal, up against the wall, gun to his head, blow his brains out, oh gods, do both at once--
John devours the sight in front of him as Ianto closes his eyes and swallows, hard. He actually closes his lips around the pistol for a second, just a instant, just a hint. Just long enough to make John shudder and nearly come in his trousers. Fuck, is this how Ianto responds to fear, to the inevitable rage at being made helpless? No wonder Jack's hooked. Bastard always did get off on power games.
Ianto recovers first, and snaps the connection between them. Jerks his head back, spitting the pistol away. He actually growls at John, low and rumbling, raspy, like rocks in a streambed. His lips are bruised and swollen like a lover's. His eyes are full of hatred.
Enough. Take control of the situation, John. Time to get a grip. No more daydreaming about sex and violence: time to do some. Time to wrap up the con and disappear. He keeps his pistol up, trained on Ianto's face.
"And the only consolation? Is MONEY. So RUN, Ianto Jones."
John backs off into the corridor. Gives the kid one last cocky grin of triumph as the lift chimes, "Going down. Doors closing." Ianto explodes, slamming his fists against the walls, and the doors slide shut on his useless anger. John's grin slowly fades. He turns and heads up to the roof to collect the final piece to the puzzle that will make him richer than Croesus, and to convince his reluctant ex-lover to come a-roaming with him once again. Poor Eyecandy, he'll no doubt be desolate. Won't have any idea how lucky he is to be rid of the both of them.
...
Fifteen minutes later, John shoves open a revolving door and swaggers his way out of the building. His canister's lying on the pavement right in front of him. Well, that's convenient. He picks it up, sees Jack's body just a few feet away, sprawled shattered and broken over a stone bench. There's not a lot of blood, surprisingly. Happens sometimes with a fall: the skin remains intact, while the bones and organs inside are pulped into amorphous jelly. The body scarcely looks human any more. Funny how often dead bodies don't even resemble the living forms. It's a kind of magic, a killing magic, that never fails to send a shudder through John.
The orgasmic thrill of killing must be hardwired into him; it's no wonder the rehab didn't take. Like he's ROM, and that code has been ineradicably blown into his BIOS. Sex and death are too close companions to ever be separated.
He crouches to say goodbye. "Rehab," he notes to Jack's dead ears, "didn't really work."
John unstraps Jack's vortex manipulator. He'll need it to get into the Hub and retrieve the centerpiece. Complete the puzzle that fucking bitch set him, three millenia and six galaxies from here/now. Put it all together, and finally collect the reward for all his hard work. Too bad he can't share it with Jack like he'd hoped. John lets out a breath. Fucker didn't want him? Fine. Only one person to claim the stash, then. All the more for John.
As he touches the dead, lush softness of Jack's lips, he flashes back to Ianto's mouth. Lost opportunities. Lost pleasure. Lost love. John swallows hard, pushes it down, gets to his feet. John goes to get his diamond.