Jack huffs a soft laugh, enjoying the way Ianto always seems to be able to bend the rules and make it sound like he's playing it completely by the book.
He breathes slowly, deliberately, in time with Ianto's strokes, attentive to the finger playing over the remote, tingling in anticipation. And then shudders, hard, gasping, when the vibrations increase, fingers digging into Ianto's arms. "Oh, fuck."