Summary: Ianto and Jack have a movies night. Just like usual, things take a rather unexpected twist.
Author's Notes: I don’t think there’s really anything to explain about this fic, is there? I’d still love to hear what you guys think of it, though, because while I’ve definitely written things that could be classified as far more explicit than this, this one is vulgar enough to make me have doubts in its quality, so don’t be afraid to leave any sort of feedback. I hope you enjoy it!
References: The film they're watching is Casino Royale and the scene discussed is this one.
Also posted on FF.net and AO3.
Jack was on the verge of falling asleep. It was either that or tackling Ianto to the ground so he could show him what his idea of fun was. It didn’t seem to be a good idea, though – if there was something Ianto would never tolerate, it was getting interrupted in the middle of a Bond film.
It wasn’t fair, he though. Usually when they happened to have a movies night, it was just an euphemism for “let’s neck on the sofa like teenagers” and not “let’s stare lovingly at Daniel Craig for three hours straight”. To make matters worse, Ianto had the collector’s edition of the DVD, which meant that deleted scenes were included.
Jack sighed and leant his head on his lover’s shoulder, only to get a distracted pat and Ianto's fingers running through his hair in response. He was ready to start whining and hope for the best when the film got his attention once again.
The scene was at the beach and the current focus was on a woman on a white horse, but Ianto didn’t seem to be paying much attention to that. He’d no doubt memorised the entire film by now and he was clearly expecting something.
Seconds later, the camera shifted to the sea and to Bond who made a sudden reappearance by rising up from the water, clad only in tight blue shorts.
Ianto's eyes were still locked on the screen and Jack knew that any movement on his side would catch him off guard, so he took the opportunity while he had it. He angled Ianto's face towards his own and pressed their lips together.
Ianto made a sound of surprise and gave Jack’s lower lip a quick, playful nip before pushing him away with resolution that the older man rarely saw in him.
“Not now, Jack,” he protested and the Captain did what he’d been tempted to do all night: he slid his lips down to his lover’s jawline and left a quick trail of kisses there. Ianto let him do as he pleased but then, when Jack looked up, he realised that the man’s eyes were still straying to the film. He gave a sigh of frustration and pulled away, reaching for the remote so he could pause the DVD.
“Jack! You can’t just pause a Bond film!” Ianto said, scandalised, and the emotion seemed to only be enhanced when Jack didn’t bother with an explanation and instead pushed him down until he was on his back.
“I just did,” Jack stated smugly. “I don’t know what you see in him, really. I’m much better looking.”
“That’s not the point,” Ianto informed him crossly, but his eyes had a strange glint to them – one that Jack had seen quite a few times by now. It was a glint that always came out when Ianto was enjoying something all too much and didn’t want to admit it; a look of restrained desire that always dared Jack to bring it all out and see it in its full glory.
So, of course, he did exactly that.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” he purred as he palmed Ianto's cock through his clothes and found it already half-hard. There was something terribly indecent about the fact that his lover had tried to hide an erection under carefully pressed trousers and Jack could never get enough of it, no matter how often it happened these days. “Come on, care to share?” the Captain teased as Ianto glowered at him. “What is it about all of that,” he added with a gesture to the frozen screen, “that makes you lose your cool?”
“You want to talk about my hobbies now?” Ianto asked incredulously. He’d apparently expected Jack to climb him unceremoniously and take what he wanted and Jack couldn’t help but feel a little offended by that thought. He’d always been a considerate lover and it was what he intended to be now, too.
“No,” he said slowly, “I want to talk about what gets you off. That’s what people do in these situations, yeah? Discuss things?”
“There’s no connection between James Bond and things that get me off, you can be certain of that,” Ianto said dryly, but his cheeks were getting just a bit redder.
“I can see that,” Jack drawled. He pressed his lips against his lover’s and was delighted at the hitch of Ianto's breathing. His eyes were halfway closed and Jack could simply eat him if given half the chance. “Is it the action? Or maybe the risk? The entire attitude with the bold strides and gleaming eyes, and the fact that he always comes in guns blazing? You love it, don’t you?” he taunted and then had to bite back a groan when Ianto's eyes met his. If it were possible for desperation and desire to share a body at the same time, then it was happening before Jack’s eyes right now. Ianto seemed ready to beg for release or for mercy, and the Captain was ready to give him either of them the instant he asked for them.
“Yes,” Ianto nodded, licking his lips with a short, anxious movement, his eyes closed once more. He seemed torn between giving Jack what he wanted and admitting what he wanted or shying away from his touch so that he could return to his film and pretend that no part of this had ever happened. Jack kind of hoped for the first option and knew that it was the more likely outcome – Ianto could rarely resist a sex-related game of any kind.
Jack swiftly moved down Ianto's body and unbuttoned his shirt as he went, wet kisses ever so quick to follow his fingers as Ianto shuddered beneath him. Jack could always tell when he was turned on beyond belief – it was in the flush of his cheeks, the way his hips arched up as if without his say-so.
But most of all, it was in the begging. Ianto never did that. No matter how heated the scene was or how far gone they were, he never begged Jack to do anything unless he was in that special place of mind that the Captain approved of so much.
It wasn’t that Ianto said anything too explicit; if anything, it was the exact opposite of that. He’d close his eyes and murmur something barely eligible under his breath, his hands reaching to tangle in Jack’s hair to bring him closer. It was brutally honest and raw and Jack was always eager to enjoy every second of it while he could.
Rising up enough to take his shirt off – slowly, much to Ianto's rather vocal frustration – Jack threw it on the floor and leant in once more, pressing his lips haphazardly over Ianto's face and neck, his kiss open-mouthed as he felt the unhappy whimpers deep in Ianto's throat.
“Come on, Jack,” he whined, his fingers tightening in Jack’s hair, causing just the right kind of pain – sharp, delicious and urgent, as if he couldn’t take the teasing for a second longer. It suited Jack just fine – while he enjoyed seeing other people’s pleasure, he’d never been one for too much foreplay; especially not when his partner showed signs of wanting to get it over with quickly.
He unbuckled his trousers hastily and pushed them as far as they would go in the position he was in and then did the same for Ianto's, one hand already pawing the table for the lube he knew had to have been thrown there somewhere. Ianto managed to surprise him yet again by reaching to catch his hand as it went and, when Jack glanced at him questioningly, shook his head.
“No?” Jack asked, but didn’t press further. If Ianto had something particular in mind, then he would be the last one to protest. “All, right then. What would you like me to do?”
Until now, the Captain had thought it’d be impossible for his lover to look any more mortified, but he managed it somehow. It was ridiculous – Ianto was absolutely tactless whenever it came to the unspoken rules of sex – but if he had to actually voice what he wanted, he just froze there and refused to cooperate. Jack had coaxed him often enough to talk about his desires just as openly as he himself did and had yet to make any progress whatsoever.
“Come on,” he whispered. They were so close that if he were to move even an inch, their lips would touch. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Ianto.”
That seemed to do it for him, because Ianto sighed and avoided Jack’s eyes for just a second before focusing back on him with new determination.
“Jerk me off,” he said, the words almost a command, and Jack grinned at him.
“It would be my pleasure,” he assured him fervently and snuck a hand between their bodies. He fingered the edge of Ianto's underwear and then slipped his hand under it. His touches were feather-light and he couldn’t help but smile at the look Ianto gave him – dazed, pained and utterly debauched – and firmed his grip just a little more; just enough for Ianto to be on the edge of pain. He knew what his lover liked and that was definitely a part of it – if there was one thing Ianto admitted to, it was the fondness he had of pushing his own borders.
They would take their time later, Jack thought. It would be in their best interest to move to the bed before doing anything even remotely adventurous, but right now, he wasn’t about to complain. Not with Ianto so far gone that he was practically melting in his hands and definitely not while he was still working with the leftover of the strange effect that ridiculous film had apparently had on his lover.
Soon, whatever desire he’d had for teasing had evaporated and Jack closed his fist around Ianto's cock, tugging with force that had to be just on the edge of too much. Not that Ianto seemed to mind – Jack could feel his knees digging into his sides and grunted at the added proximity of their bodies as the younger man lost himself in his arms.
“Come on,” Jack said in an echo of his own worlds from mere minutes ago. “Come on, Ianto, don’t hold back on me now.” There was a whimper and Ianto clenched his eyes closed, but there was no other reaction. It wasn’t enough and Jack had never been less patient to see him come undone. He felt his lips curve in a wicked smile as an idea took shape as soon as he’d directed his train of thought that way. He leant even closer, letting his lips brush the sensitive skin of Ianto's ear and pressed a small kiss there before whispering, “What are you waiting for, Mr Jones?”
Ianto's eyes shot wide open and, with a long, tortured moan, he came under Jack’s steady hand.
It was a minute or so later, when they’d both gained their breath back and Jack had had the chance to move off Ianto and try to get comfortable with his own still undealt with erection, that he chanced a look in his lover’s direction.
“The two things aren’t connected at all, huh?” He quipped and Ianto rolled his eyes. “No, really,” Jack pressed. “This is opening an entire new chest of wonders. You have no idea how much ideas are sprouting right now.”
Ianto sent him a dark look, albeit one laced with mischief. “That terrifies me.”