Torchwood, Ianto/Jack, ties
Feeling somewhat self-conscious standing there in front of Jack, wearing only his necktie, Ianto loosened it and slipped it off, over his head. He fingered the smooth, striped satin. It was maroon and navy against his pale fingertips. Ianto reached over and slipped it over Jack’s head. He held onto the end, treating it like a leash and collar. He drew Jack closer and they kissed.
Jack was there now, real and in front of him. Jack had died and vanished off the face of the Earth. How do you get over something like that? How was he to go from the sort of intensity Jack offered in bed and then suddenly go without? And how was he to adjust to having it back again?
Jack had taken him out to the most expensive restaurant in Cardiff, though that wasn’t saying much. Ianto had spent the night staring into Jack’s eyes so much he hardly tasted the rich food. And the movie Jack had taken him to had been a blur thanks to the fact that Jack’s hand had squeezed his throughout the whole thing. He couldn’t concentrate on anything except for Jack… until he was finally alone with the man. Then it all came rushing back.
“It’s not hanging right,” Ianto muttered. “Let me.” He circled ‘round Jack, sliding his hands over Jack’s shoulders to adjust the knot as though it were around his own neck. However, his cock met Jack’s perfect arse. Ianto fingers faltered as his body took over. He pressed his cheek against Jack’s back and whimpered.
Jack spun around and invited his thigh between Ianto’s legs. They folded onto the floor together, Ianto on his back, Jack on top and thrusting powerfully. Their eyes were locked, their foreheads damp with perspiration, and the tie hung from Jack’s neck onto Ianto’s chest. With a bit of maneuvering, Ianto managed to get it in his mouth. He jerked his head, yanking the tie, forcing Jack to thrust faster. Was it possible this was even better sex than before?
Ianto came silently, his eyes quite wide and his teeth clenched around the end of the now-damp tie. Jack was louder, unrestrained, and his ecstasy echoed through the otherwise empty hub.
They lay on the cold floor, wet, sticky, breathless. Jack’s arms were around Ianto, holding him tightly, until he decided it was time to clean off. But when he tried to pull away, he found Ianto had a firm grip on the tie. “Ianto?”
“Don’t go,” Ianto whispered. He wasn’t about to let up.
“I’m just going to get--”
“Please don’t go,” he repeated, tightening his hold so his knuckles went white.
Jack smiled and kissed his forehead tenderly. “You don’t need to hold onto me.” He slid down, easing the tie off while it was still in Ianto’s hand. “I chose to come back. You’re the one keeping me here.”