mia_zeklos (mia_zeklos) wrote,

Taste the Sweet Wine From My Lips (Jack/Ianto)

Title: Taste the Sweet Wine From My Lips
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-17
Summary: Ianto has yet to give Jack what he's waiting for. Jack is not amused. A look at Jack and Ianto's first time together.
Author's Notes: This fic very much did not want to be written. I’ve been trying to do it for centuries and only just succeeded – and, given that I’m still new to smut, I was still not completely satisfied with it and therefore chickened out– so I hope you enjoy it.
Also posted on FF.net and AO3.

On the second week after hiring Ianto Jones, Jack conceded defeat.

If his newest member of staff was trying to seduce him without even touching him, he had succeeded. Hell, Jack had been ready to put an end to this torture after the second day, but he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t imagining things. For all he knew, Jones could be completely uninterested, and everyone had already mocked him for the longing looks he threw his way and Suzie has gone as far as to call him a pervert when she’d first caught him at it.

That didn’t change much, however: Jack wasn’t sure how much more of this he’d be able to withstand.

Right now, Jones was standing in the middle of the Hub and going through the pile of files he was holding. He was dressed as usual, his suit (although he’d lost the jacket) was neat and perfectly composed, but his shirt was different. The deep purple colour stood out under the dark waistcoat that cinched in the waist and Jack wanted nothing more than to get his hands on the smooth fabric and the body underneath it. He was certain that Ianto knew very well what he was doing to him if the sly, mock-shy glances were anything to go by. And oh, the eyes that this boy had! The most intense blue Jack had ever seen, looking like pure, liquid sin despite his guileless expression.

When he concentrated, Jack had lovingly noticed, he had this habit of squinting a bit and biting his lower lip and that was definitely not a good line of thought. Those lips – full, slightly pouty and in that positively obscene colour – had been the main figure in most of Jack’s fantasies in the past two weeks.

It was strange, really. The young man was beautiful, that much was true, but there was something else that made him so irresistible to Jack. It was probably the unscarred innocence of youth that made Jack want to have him; throw him down, pin him to the bed and leave angry red lines on pearly white skin and see those firm white limbs spread in the bedroom under his office, trembling with the helplessness that passion so often brought.

Jack ran his hand through his hair in frustration. This was pure torture. He couldn’t keep going like that – this was a distraction he couldn’t afford, and yet...

He saw Ianto from the corner of his eye as he sat down on the sofa downstairs and kept filling in whatever files he was handling. There was something devastatingly graceful about him even in that position and Jack thanked the heavens for his perfect eyesight which allowed him to catch every detail – his long fingers, the sculpted lines of his face, his lips pursed together in concentration.

Any work he might have had was forgotten for the moment and Jack dropped his pen as one of his hand snuck down his front and undid his belt. It slithered into his trousers and into his underwear and, God, he was half-hard already. His fingers slid up his cock, touch light as silk, and Jack bit his lip to stifle his groan. Everyone barring Ianto was out for a late afternoon snack, but he could never be too careful.

Jack closed his eyes and let his head rest on the back of his chair. Reality and fantasy collided in his mind and he gave himself a sharp tug as he imagined the boy’s luscious lips wrapped around him, hot and soft and so, so beautiful. He could see, clear as anything, that magnificent hair and could almost feel it under his fingers as he kept thrusting forward and oh, gods and goddesses, Ianto, Ianto–

“Sir, could you please– Am I interrupting something?”

Jack managed to open his eyes just as they focused on the voice’s owner in disbelief. This was possibly the worst timing anyone had ever had and he didn’t dare move an inch in fear of giving himself away.

“No!” He exclaimed at last. “No, it’s just that, ah, I was asleep and– and dreaming of you, as you might have noticed.”

There! Even if he’d slipped up, that would get him out of this situation.


“If the next part of this is to tell me that I’m the man of your dreams, Sir, I’d like to as you not to,” Ianto shot back delicately and Jack scoffed.

“I was going to say no such thing.” Maybe he needed a new set of pick-up lines. Or maybe Ianto was just too clever for this.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ianto said with a tight smile. “Now, if you could look into this list,” he continued, dumping a sheet of paper on top of everything that was already on Jack’s desk, “you’d see the descriptions of several artefacts in the Archives that I’m not familiar with and I’d like to ask for your help in cataloguing them.”

“Of course,” Jack agreed eagerly. Several hours alone with Ianto in the Archives sounded like Christmas morning at this point. “Just give me a few minutes to sort out, you know–”

He gestured around helplessly with his free hand and Ianto merely raised an eyebrow in response. God, if this century wasn’t so damn repressed, everything would be okay. If something like that had happened back home, they would have laughed it off and forgot about it by now. As it was, Jack was stuck in his chair with his right hand down his trousers, not able to move without freaking his employee out completely.

“I understand,” Ianto nodded, pulling him out of his thoughts. “It was only then that Jack noticed the smirk that he was trying to hide. “You know, Sir, you should have said.”

“I don’t know what you–” Jack’s voice died when Ianto’s fingers curled around his elbow and slid downwards without breaking eye contact.

This close, he was all the more beautiful; those wide sapphire eyes shining in the near-darkness of Jack’s office, his red lips slightly parted. His skin was smooth and fair and Jack ached to touch it, taste it, feel his heartbeat under his fingers.

Ianto pulled his chair back and Jack looked up at him, surprised but expectant. There was a soft chuckle as Ianto’s fingers traced his. “Thought so. Is that for me, Sir?”

Jack licked his lower lip, trying to keep his composure. “What do you think?” he mumbled and Ianto outright laughed; the sound quiet but rich and heavy with amusement.

“Oh, Captain,” he whispered against his lips, almost a sigh. “I think it’s time we stopped pretending.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Jack assured him. It was only the truth, really; everyone had been able to see that they’d been heading for this since the first time they’d met and this was long overdue.

The way Ianto was staring at him was completely entrancing – there was some sort of fascinated admiration mixed with hunger and Jack couldn’t remember the last time this had happened; couldn’t remember a time where someone had looked at him as if he was some sort of fine art ready to be appreciated fully. He’d never been short of admirers of course, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t like this every now and then as well. It was mutual, too – he was quite sure that his eyes mirrored Ianto’s and matched them in hunger, and he couldn’t wait to taste every bit of him properly.

It felt like the younger man had felt his yearning because, before Jack could react, Ianto was closing in and their lips touched, and the whole world disappeared.

Jack’s hands shot up immediately, finding their place on Ianto’s shoulders to bring him closer as he gasped almost inaudibly in his mouth, the strangely self-assured delicacy of the kiss almost too painful to bear. Ianto had taken his hand out of Jack’s trousers, but he didn’t feel like complaining in the slightest – in fact, it felt like a shot of electricity down his spine when Ianto traced his fingers down his neck.

“You’re so lovely,” Jack breathed when they pulled away and he drowned in the dark pools of Ianto’s eyes. Ianto’s sides coloured lightly and Jack would have found it almost funny that he’d been jerking him off one second and blushing at a compliment the other – if it weren’t for the situation they were in.

“You aren’t too bad yourself,” he shot back with a small, strangely wicked smile and Jack arched up for another quick kiss.

“I’m going to leave a note for the others,” he said, letting his thumb caress Ianto’s smooth cheeks. “I’ll tell them that there was a Rift alert while they were gone and we’ve gone to investigate it.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Ianto echoed and Jack laughed, quickly standing up and leading him down to his room.


It wasn’t often that Jack brought someone to his bedroom, and not only because of the security issues. It was just a deeply private place, but he knew that Ianto was the right person; he’d felt it from the first moment they’d met. There was something about the man that made him stop thinking completely and the quiet chuckles and stifled laughs as they gradually stripped each other were proof enough of that. He could easily remember landing in Ianto’s arms in the warehouse and the way they’d laughed like children, almost too carefree and too delighted to realise how close they were to one another.

He was different, that much was clear. It wasn’t easy to detect, if only by the fact that Jack had waited so long for him. Had it been anyone else, he would have either stepped forward or given up by now, but not with him. Not with him, and Jack confirmed it to himself now as he watched the boy on the faint light in his bedroom. His long lashes casted shadows down his sculpted face and his cheekbones stood out even more than usual, making him look like a marble statue, carved out by the hands of some timeless, foreign being. His eyes pierced through Jack’s and the Captain didn’t really care if it was an act anymore; all he wanted was to get lost in that scrumptious splendour and possibly never find his way out again if it meant that he could keep this man in his bed for as long as he pleased.

“Let me, let me,” Ianto whispered urgently when Jack reached to pull off his trousers – the last piece of clothing left on him – and carefully undid his belt and slid them down his legs. Jack managed to get them off his feet and onto the bed soon enough and pushed the younger man down until he was sitting on the bed and Jack could have the vantage point over him. It paid off immediately; Ianto bit his lower lip on a small whimper and looked up with something in his eyes that made Jack growl and pounce on him, wrap him in his arms until he knew that he couldn’t feel anything but his body in any possible direction. It was intoxicating to have that kind of power over someone and Jack relished it while he could.

“Has anyone told you,” he started in a hushed voice, his fingers trailing over those plump lips, “that you’re incredibly beautiful?”

“I’ve been known to turn a few heads, Sir,” Ianto replied in a suitably quiet voice and looked away bashfully, making Jack smile inwardly. Oh, the boy wasn’t new to the art of seduction, he could sense it, but that didn’t mean that Jack couldn’t make him see stars. He was every bit as clever as Jack took him for, clearly, because he wasn’t letting his true self shine yet. Everything he’d done here as well as upstairs was nothing but a tantalising hint of what Jack could have if he dared and reached out to take it, and damn him if he wouldn’t take the opportunity right now. He’d waited long enough.
"You sly little devil," Jack murmured as he leant into Ianto's personal space and noticed the younger man's underwear - black, tight boxers that fit him like a glove. He quickly managed to get them past Ianto’s knees and toss them on the floor as Ianto squirmed in his arms. "You've planned this, haven't you?"

"Imagined it, maybe," Ianto breathed. He was an energetic young thing and he stumbled over himself to prove how good he could be, which was just what Jack wanted from him. "You did seem rather intrigued by me."

"You have no idea." What was meant to be a passionate statement had somehow turned into a tender promise and Jack wasn't sure when it had happened. He brushed the thought aside. "Now, if you don't mind, less talking, more action."

"Only you can say something like that and actually make it sound good, Captain," Ianto noted and Jack pulled back, raising an eyebrow in amusement. It wasn't lost on Ianto who made to kiss him again. "What is it?"

"You have a thing for that, don't you?" He asked suspiciously.

"A thing for what?" Ianto asked, bewildered.

"Calling me 'Captain'." Jack's knowing smile broadened when Ianto got visibly flustered. "You do, don't you?" He pressed and Ianto avoided his eyes stubbornly. "It's perfectly fine if you do," he continued and crowded into Ianto's personal space until his lips pressed against the boy's ear, his voice deep and rough. "I love it."

Ianto whimpered and let out a needy moan. "Jack..."

"That's it," Jack encouraged. "That's it, gorgeous."

There was something different about the way Ianto said his name; something that turned it into something new and unique and not the name he'd answered to since birth. He loved hearing it come out of his pretty mouth for that very reason and he couldn't help but react to it now.

"Oh, Captain, please..." he continued and Jack flipped them over, manoeuvring them until he was the one laying on the bed and Ianto was straddling his thighs.

"Take what you need, baby boy," Jack encouraged softly and Ianto shivered slightly. "What would you like me to do?"

"I want..." Ianto leant down to claim the kiss he'd wanted minutes ago and his long fingers cupped Jack's face and slid over his eyelids. "I want you."

And Jack had dreamed, waited to hear this. There had to be very few things in the world that could be better than this. Small, almost non-existent shivers shook Ianto’s frame and Jack couldn’t get enough of the sight. He was broad at the shoulders but his torso was strangely narrow and his body was like an empty canvas – too pale and without a scratch on it. Despite everything he’d went through; Ianto was more of an artist than he was a warrior; creating his own art with information and data; with history and the days yet to come. His hair was falling in front of his eyes where it had become damp with sweat and for a moment, he took Jack’s breath away.

"You're going to have to elaborate on that, you know," Jack teased gently, still unable to take his eyes off him or even try to be more adequate. “I can’t read minds.”

That didn’t mean he couldn’t read Ianto, though. Not what he was thinking – only God could guess what was happening in that beautiful head of his – but what he wanted and how much he could take. It was blindingly obvious that this was new for him, but just how new, he couldn’t be sure. He always acted like he could deal with anything regardless of the situation, and there was a dark, wicked part of Jack that wanted to see just how far he would go. He wanted to see him bound and gagged, his brilliant blue eyes staring at Jack and begging for release. He could imagine him desperate and wanting at the face of everything that Jack could show him and oh, he couldn’t wait. This would definitely prove to be fun.

“I want,” Ianto mumbled again and the flush of embarrassment slid down his neck and chest. “I want you to–”

“Say it,” Jack prompted firmly. “I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“Fine,” Ianto huffed, frustrated. “I want you to fuck me.”

“And here I thought you’d never ask.”

Jack drew him closer immediately and sank his fingers in Ianto’s hair as they lips met. The kiss was nothing like the previous ones they’d shared. It was frantic and anxious and there was an edge of something Jack couldn’t quite catch into it, but he couldn’t force himself to pay attention. Not when finally, finally, he was getting somewhere.

He pulled Ianto on top of himself and groped around the bed for a stray bottle of lube he’d left there on the off-chance that he actually got lucky with his Ianto-related mission. He crowed his victory once he found it and tried to concentrate despite the fact that he had said man pressing tender, feather-light kisses down his neck.

“Take it easy there,” Jack panted on a curt laugh. “I’m getting a bit too excited for this.”

Ianto looked up, his eyes burning mischievously. “If you think you don’t have the necessary stamina, Captain, we might–”

“I’ll give you Captain,” Jack growled playfully, rolling them over once more.

“That’s what I’ve been hoping for– Ah!” Ianto’s sentence was cut off once Jack’s fingers slid down his ass. He teased as gently as possible and Ianto’s eyes squeezed shut in delight.

“Relax,” Jack murmured. “You’ll love it.”

“I certainly expect so–” Another whimper and Jack allowed himself a small smile.

“You might find that it’s a good idea not to try to talk.”

“No kidding,” Ianto snapped and his words dissolved into a moan soon enough as Jack’s other hand wrapped around his cock and trailed down his length almost absently.

“Condom?” The Captain asked, voice a bit strained, and Ianto shook his head.

“Not much of a point, is there?” He asked. “We both had full physical the other day. Owen says we’re clean.”

“Well, let’s hope Owen’s right,” Jack muttered. He knew well enough about himself – he’d been vaccinated back home against every sexually transmitted disease possible and the Time Agency had given him even more, but Ianto couldn’t know that and Jack knew that it was better to be safe than sorry. The way he saw it, trust was a major part of any relations he could have with another person, as old-fashioned as it seemed to the strange people of this century.

“Jack.” Ianto’s voice broke through his thoughts and he grinned. That’s what he’d been waiting for; the realisation that Ianto had given himself over completely to him. “Please, if you don’t do something soon, I’m going to–”

“I told you to relax,” Jack reminded lightly. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re with the Captain here.”

Ianto did his best to roll his eyes, but didn’t get far as they were too busy widening at Jack’s continued efforts. He tried to be thorough; he still couldn’t be sure whether this was Ianto’s first time with a man and he wanted him to remain with a good memory of it either way. The way Jack saw it, it would be best for both of them if they could repeat this. Preferably often, and with great enthusiasm.

Jack eyes slipped closed as his fingers brushed over his own cock, covering it generously with lube and stroking himself in the process. He hadn’t exaggerated; Ianto’s mere presence here, naked and willing and so ready for him, had him on edge.

“Well, then beautiful,” he breathed affectionately in Ianto’s ear as he leant over him. “Are you ready for me?”

Ianto’s eager nod was enough of an answer and Jack carefully took hold of his legs, right behind his knees, and lifted them so his feet rested on his shoulders.

“Is that really necessary?” Ianto asked, trying not to writhe too much. “I don’t think–”

“Trust me,” Jack offered, more of a proposal than an order. “It’s definitely going to make things easier.”

“Yes, fine,” the younger man huffed. “Just– just get on with it, okay?” Much to his apparent frustration, Jack rested his elbows on both sides of him and looked down at him in reprimand. “What is it?”

“I want you to understand something,” Jack murmured, one hand letting go of the sheets to caress Ianto’s cheeks. “This isn’t a part of your job. No, I mean it,” he insisted when Ianto looked like he was about to interrupt him. “This isn’t something you have to do. It’s for your own enjoyment, do you understand?” He nodded quickly. “I want you to feel every moment of this,” Jack continued. “Every second. And I want you to feel the life coursing through you as you let yourself go, right?”

“Yes.” There was a subtle change in Ianto’s eyes now, as if he was seeing Jack in a completely different light. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” Jack whispered. “Good.”

And, as Ianto finally closed his eyes and did as he was told, he felt himself calming down completely as well.

There was no place for worries here.


“What’s eating you?”

The soft question startled Ianto, but not enough for him to pull away from the warm embrace he’d found himself it. He managed a small smile.

“I’m fine.”

Jack’s thumb swiped over his cheek and Ianto closed his eyes. His boss was an attentive lover almost to the point where it was uncomfortable, given that they’d only just got around to sleeping together. “You don’t look like it.” He didn’t say anything in response and Jack pressed further. “Really, what is it? Don’t tell me you’re already regretting this.”

“I’m not.” At least that bit wasn’t a lie, much to Ianto’s horror. He’d enjoyed it far too much. “Really, I’m fine. Shouldn’t we go back to work?”

Nah,” Jack waved him off. “It’s half past eleven already. Everyone’s gone home by now.”

Seven hours. He’d spent seven hours in his boss’s bed – a fair bit of them asleep – and as much as he knew that he had to be bothered by it, it felt inexplicably right.

“You could stay the night,” he offered with obvious hesitation. “Not much point of going home now, is there?”

“Okay.” There wasn’t much point of protesting either. He could wait for Jack to fall asleep and then go check on Lisa. “Night, then, Captain.”

“Night, Ianto,” Jack mumbled. His arms – shockingly warm – wrapped around Ianto’s body and he could feel his nose burrowing into his hair. “Sweet dreams.”

He really wasn’t supposed to feel so comfortable and so entirely safe in the embrace of someone who was supposed to be the enemy.

“Sweet dreams,” Ianto echoed and tried to ignore the guilt slowly creeping into him as he closed his eyes and, mostly against his will, let sleep take over him.
Tags: ianto jones, jack harkness, jack/ianto, torchwood

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