dancingbarefoot: (Ianto Forever)
[personal profile] dancingbarefoot
Ianto was standing in the middle of Jack’s office, Tosh having put the projector away and Jack looked at him from the doorway, the other man’s brow was furrowed as he concentrated on his coffee. The look on his face was amusing the Captain for no other reason than to see Ianto this lost in a train of thought meant there was something deep about to come out when he was asked about what he was thinking.

“Penny for those thoughts Ianto.” Jack called, shaking the other man out of his daydream.

“I really should go and check with Tosh about the mainframe readings.”

“Try again Ianto.”

“I should go feed the weevils?”

Jack came around the desk and stalked his lover until the younger man’s back hit the filing cabinet, his upper body leaning into him so that he could whisper into the curve of Ianto’s neck.

“Try again.”

Ianto rolled his eyes trying not to squirm or show Jack that he was enjoying this at great pains. “It..it’s about the film sir.” His eyes fluttered closed and he sighed a sigh that Jack was positive would be coming from the tips of the other man’s polished shoes.

“What about the film Ianto?”

He managed to duck under Jack’s arm and head for the door. “Never mind, I think I hear the rift alarm.”


Jack had plenty of time to ponder just what was on Ianto’s mind over the next few days. Nobody had had a chance to breathe much less sleep.

It was a Friday night when Gwen warned Jack to leave Ianto alone, the archivist had fallen asleep on the couch with his Jacket thrown over him for a blanket. He looked rather young and without care that Jack lost his heart a little bit more.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything other than let him sleep. I’ll go do reports.”

He was lying of course and they both knew it but she went out with a promise not to see Jack again until Monday morning, rift alarms notwithstanding.

Once he was sure that the door was safely closed, he turned his attention back to his sleeping lover and bounded his way across the floor and soon was on his knees by the side of the couch.

“Ianto?” He whispered, waiting to see how asleep he was.

“Ianto?” He tried again, this time slipping the younger man’s shirt out from his waist band and allowing his hand to trace circles over the warm flesh.

“Jack, g’way.”

“Ianto, i’ll leave you alone if you tell me what you were thinking about in my office the other night. About the film we had brought back with us.” Jack singsonged as he pressed a kiss to his temple.

“G’away.” He tried to move but couldn’t, Jack had no intention of letting him move.

“Tell me, please?”

Ianto’s eyes opened and he studied Jack for a moment. “If you really and truly have to know, it was that the weight lifters outfit would have looked much better on you. The barely there flimsy look suits your body better.”


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September 2010

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