: There should probably be all kinds of warnings with this piece, but I’m not entirely sure myself what they should be, so I guess you guys are just going to have to trust in me not to scar ya’ll too terribly much. All my love and thanks to everyone who read this piece in all its beginning stages and still encouraged me to continue on. Enjoy!
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The music is soft, a whisper of sound in the background of his mind as he stretches his arms high above his head; the feel of silk sliding up his body with the movement makes him smile, a purr of pleasure falling from his lips as he twists his body to the slow and sultry beat leaking forth from Jack’s gramophone.
His arms fall down with a lazy sort of grace, his hands stroking through the dishevelled ruffle of his hair, and touching almost reverently at his own face- kohl lined eyes, heavy lidded but hiding nothing, ghostly pale skin accentuated by a smudge of blush-pink across cheekbones sharp enough to rest coffee mugs upon, his pouting mouth so wanton and needy, plumped up with subtle rouge; more natural shine and biting-abuse than artificial colour- and his eyes flutter over wordless gasps of whispered lyrics as he sways his hips in stilted time to the soft thrum vibrating through his body.
Hands move from his face, touching at the almost-flatness of his chest; two peaking nipples arching through the thin fabric of the silken chemise he wears, and can’t help but stroke the palm of his hand across them, rubbing hard and mouthing nonsensical words and half-whimpered moans. The other hand he keeps moving, sliding over cool silk, down the quiver of his belly till he is ghosting trembling finders over the growing heat that bulges from a spot between his legs.
He squeezes, eyes flying open to meet with the blue fire of Jack’s steady gaze, a heavy groan slipping past his lips as he catches the almost imperceptible shake of the Captain’s head and cries his distress even as he drops his hands to his sides; slim fingers bunching fistfuls of powder-blue silk; the material riding up the smoothness of his thighs and he shivers; the touch of silk stroking his skin so wonderfully, so teasingly, that all he wants to do is touch…
Jack’s eyes appraise him, watching the movement of material as he bites his mouth, his hips rolling slightly into the subtle tautness of his chemise; Jack purses his lips, amusement hidden behind a pointedly raised eyebrow and, reluctantly, he lets the fabric fall from flexing fingers. He wraps slim arms about his midriff, mouth pouting and panting out his want as he stares at Jack with large and pleading eyes- he wants, he needs- but Jack just watches; roaming his eyes from top to bottom, lingering on the bulging proof of his arousal as it tents the otherwise uniformity of his chemise.
“You’re wet,” Jack’s voice is a low and growling purr and he shifts, thighs pressing deliciously close with the gesture as he drops his eyes to his front, sliding his hazed gaze down powder-blue silk till he sees that one condemning patch of darker blue soiling his dress and he flushes deep and pink; feels the heat of shame rushing through him and burning deep within him and yet there too comes the trills of orgasmic desire as without thought he reaches with one quivering hand to touch again at his clothed erection, at the wetness soiling his dress and he whimpers through closed lips as his fingers pull away damp and damning.
When next he looks up it is with a sheen of tears in his eyes and his teeth worrying at already-abused lips and Jack shakes his head as if in disapproval. He cries out; distress lacing a wordless plea as he raises those damning fingers to his face, first scenting his seed before in frustration he drags his fingers across his mouth, scratching nails up his cheeks and into his hair, tugging tuffs of the curling brown strands as if in punishment for his weakness. The first drips of tears slips from his eyes and Jack cannot help but take pity on the sight before him. He shifts in the seat behind his desk, spreading his legs wide and beaconing with his hand. He received a stilted shake of the head in return and his temper flairs momentarily.
“Ianto, come.” Jack commands, and his voice brooks for no argument. He goes. His shoes scuff across the floor in dragging disobedience as he rounds the desk, moving closer to Jack; Jack who is naked from the waist up, his trousers obscenely undone, his cock hard and aching as it arches up to lie against the taunt muscles of his belly. He sniffs his tears back, his eyes staring, mouth watering at the sight laid out before him.
“Want-,” he breathes, pale fingers reaching out as if to touch. Jack’s hand snaps out lightning quick, grabbing at his wrist and stilling him. He starts in surprise but obeys as Jack’s reaches for his other hand also, his grip tight and unrelenting as he tugs him forward, pulling him to stand just before the ‘V’ of his legs.
“Don’t be naughty,” Jack says and his mouth trembles upon a nod as Jack releases his wrists, his hands moving to touch at the bared flesh of his legs, just above and behind the knee, feeling there the shiver of effort it takes for him to keep standing. His fingers trail further up, slow and taunting and he chokes back a cry; his face the epitome of exhilaration and distress both.
“Lift up your dress, Ianto.” Jack says and his fingers feel stiff and clumsy as he gropes the tops of his thighs, scrabbling across the slick silk in an effort to pinch hold of the fabric of his chemise and lift it up.
“Higher,” Jack breathes, voice thick with forced control as he watches the thin material lift with excruciating slowness. He smacks his hand against the soft flesh of his lower thigh, “higher, I said.”
And higher it goes. He lifts till the silk brushes just above his belly-button before Jack tells him to stop; his fingers trailing up the back of his thighs, massaging handfuls of his arse as from the front he eyes the swell of his cock as it strains itself against the silken pouch of the panties he’s been made to wear. The silk is dark, wet through with pre-come, unequivocal proof of just how far gone he is.
Jack leans in, pressing his face cheek-flat against his groin and hearing the groans that echo about the room as Jack breaths in the heady aroma of his arousal. Jack rubs his cheek slowly against his erection, feeling the dampness against his skin as he turns his face fully into the swell of flesh, his mouth ghosting over the thin material of his panties and the strain of his cock not even inches beneath.
He cries out, his legs trembling at the hot heat of the mouth that sucks at him through his panties. It is Jack’s hands, and Jack’s hands alone, that keep him from falling to his knees in a begging, whimpering mass. They keep him still, still and standing and in place for this sweet torment- with Jack’s mouth on him, but not, sucking him hard and greedy but never completely taking him- it’s not long before, almost with dissatisfaction, he has his pleasure sucked right out of him- a breathless scream torn from his lips as he arches back against Jack’s hands, against Jack’s arms as they slide about him, catching and cradling him and drawing him onto his lap and close to the heave of his chest and the frantic beating of his heart.
His legs spread willingly, too-easily as they straddle Jack’s lap, his body slumping forward as the dizzying haze of his orgasm fogs his mind for long moments before with slowly blinking eyes he tilts his head upwards, seeing Jack’s eyes intent upon him and the heated flush of his sated-arousal cools so very suddenly upon his skin, leaving him to shiver and shake, tears springing to his eyes once again as he parts pouting lips to whisper hoarsely of his shame.
“I messed myself,” he whispers, trembling as he sees himself as some quivering, panting wreck who messes himself like some wanton whore. Jack watches him. He licks his lips and watches as the tears drip down his face and he smiles, reaching up to pet at his hair, his face, his neck, keen fingers dragging down his chest, over the bunching fabric of his chemise as it gathers awkwardly about slim hips, his hand dipping between spread legs to fondle his flaccid cock as it lies in the wetness of his panties.
Jack moans softly against his crown as he buries his face against Jack’s neck, a hiccup of shame slipping past his lips as he feels Jack’s touch.
“Hush,” Jack breathes, one arm wrapped tight about his back as the other slowly moves away from his groin, stroking at his thighs a moment and two before reaching up to snatch one of his grasping hands away from Jack’s shoulder, their fingers curling tightly together as Jack holds him close.
“Hush, little Ianto, don’t you cry…” Jack’s voice drops to a whisper, his lips ghosting his forehead as he whispers words to a half-forgotten lullaby whilst moving their joined hands down between their bodies and helping him to wrap his fingers around the burning hardness of his own erection.
His gasp is muffled by the moan Jack surrenders at the touch and he feels a new kind of shiver slither its way through his body as he flexes his fingers- not quite sure how to hold- pulling another soft moan from Jack. He shivers again, biting at bruising lips as he pushes away from Jack’s chest just enough to look down between their bodies and see the contrasting paleness of his hand against Jack’s sun-kissed skin as he holds it in place around the dark, purpling-strain of his erection; beads of pearly pre-cum seeping up to coat the head in slickness.
“Oh…!” His gasp is mumbled against his surprise at the sight and he moves his fingers upwards; sliding them through the translucent whiteness and feeling the slight stickiness as he rubs his hand, now palm-cupped, in a circular motion about the angry head. He continues to rub, Jack’s hand beneath his now as he pulls at his own straining erection- dragging his hand up-and-down, up-and-down, in quick tugs, the motion making strangely delightful sounds to his ears as he watches and touches so keenly.
His stomach muscles quiver, his little gasps for air quickening in tempo with Jack’s own as he touches so experimentally, so engrossed is he that when Jack’s stilted moan of reached-pleasure sounds he jerks to a stop, heartbeat pounding against his ears as he shoots deer-frightened eyes upwards to watch the flutter of Jack’s half-shut eyes as they stare into him, burning fervently dark as his own hand continues to tug and pull and jerk till the angry head bulges, spitting forth its seed to splatter up between their bodies. It is Jack’s turn now to shudder his release and he watches uncertainly as Jack loses himself for a heart-beat only before his eyes snap open-wide and he is staring at him once again.
“You…” he whispers, biting harder at his lips. Jack reaches up, touching at his mouth with sticky-wet fingers and he allows his bottom lip to be dragged free of the nipping sharpness of his teeth. Jack wipes his thumb across the hurt, coating it with his sin and he shudders, his tongue quick to slip out and lick and taste at the substance, his nose wrinkling at the hint of its flavour. Jack is watching him still.
“You messed too,” He whispers, ducking his head now. The music plays on in the background of his mind as Jack wraps his arms about him once more and pulls him in; breathing almost-softly against his crown as he cradles him close. He shuts his eyes as Jack’s hands stroke his back with slow, measured swipes.
“Yes.” Comes the whisper. “Yes, I did.”- - -Fin.
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