othercaptjack | (no subject)

(no subject)

It is raining outside the base, in the deceptive manner of English Spring that means what might look like a light shower has left Jack decidedly wet as he swings into the Hub, alarms blaring behind him. It's late in the evening, but his latest Weevil chase had gone on for longer than he had thought it would.

They're getting cunning. He's perversely pleased.

He throws his coat across the couch as he passes, scrubbing a hand through his wet hair and heading for his office. He has no real reason to expect anyone else to be here this late.

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Ianto allows himself to entertain the notion for a moment.

"And you'd use body heat, of course. It's the most effective method."

"Mm-hmm."

A very tiny part of Jack's brain is pointing out that Ianto is an employee, several hundred years younger than him, recently breaved and even more recently traumatised. Unfortunately, the rest of him is Jack Harkness mid-flirt and it would take considerably more than a little twinge of conscience to dam that particular river.

"Scientifically proven. Far smaller chance of burning than applying direct heat, and really quite efficient."

"Yes, sir, I'd rather not be burned," Ianto says. "No matter how good your intentions were."

He adds in a slightly more serious tone, "Are you cold?"

[ooc: Aaaand I have to leave in a few minutes to get the car fixed.]

Jack's eyes flicker quickly but thoroughly over Ianto.

"Yes," he decides, very serious. "Terribly."

[OOC No problem - I'll probably be gone when you get back, though. Night!]

Ianto smiles indulgently and holds out his arms.

"Body heat."

Smile spreading slowly, Jack steps closer, arms reaching out to catch Ianto around the waist.

"Whatever you say," he says softly, hands curving around appreciatively.

Ianto is neither stiff nor tense, and he holds Jack naturally as if this has happened a thousand times before.

It feels good. Warm.

Jack steps just a little closer, until he can feel the heat from the whole length of Ianto's body against his, and leans his head against the boy's neck.

"Whataver happens," he says softly, "Ever - you tell me if I ask for too much, all right? Don't you be afraid to tell me to stop. Ever."

Then he tilts his head down and under, and kisses Ianto firmly and skilfully on the mouth.

There is a moment--less than that--of hesitation.

"Never too much," is all he says, and then Ianto is kissing him back.

That's... That's surprising, but entirely welcome. Jack does not hesitate at all, just draws Ianto closer and nips gently at his lower lip.

You go with your opportunities. Especially when mostly undressed.

Ianto puts his hands on Jack's waist and lets Jack pull him closer, perfectly content.

This kind of makes up for everything. The being beten up by Weevils, Owen being.. Owen. Everything.

Jack breaks after a long few moments to run his fingers deliberately through Ianto's hair, other hand curled possessively around his neck.

"Am I helping?" he asks innocently, breathing just slight ragged.

"Very much," Ianto murmurs and leans his head on Jack's shoulder. "Best kiss me again just to be sure."

Well, that seems clear enough.

Jack obliges, not bothering to hold back this time, and pushing Ianto up against the wall of his office, almost desperate to feel him, in a way he hasn't in... too long.

Ianto makes a sound low in his chest and kisses back fiercely, trying to give as good as he's getting.

...Oh. Okay. That works. That works really well. Jack laughs breathily against Ianto's lips, thumb tracing roughly up the side of his neck as the other holds him tight. Let go? Give him a while.

Ianto shivers a little when Jack laughs, and strokes his fingers up Jack's spine.

It's something that Jack had always believed in - sex in the workplace. As a cure for grief and trauma, too, though he'd tried not to apply that to everything. Different century, different values, he'd told himself valiantly.

But he never had been a man to deny his or other people's urges, and Ianto is one of his.

And he kisses amazingly, which rather affects Jack's decision-making right now.

There are things, Ianto is aware, that he probably ought to say or do--or object to--or think about--but that's not happening right now.

Mostly it's Jack, kissing me, kissing him, god, finally, Jack and feeling Jack's skin warm up under his hands.

And if Ianto doesn't say anything, or object... well, Jack isn't about to.

He reaches up slowly, dragging the frabric of Ianto's perfectly ironed shirt - at this time of night, too - and curling his fingers in short dark hair.