Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones;
R/18-Rated, non-con; 636words; Coda 1.06;
(but not the coda I've promised you indiefairy ;) I'm just
in one of those "moods" and this is what transpired! Sorry, Ianto!
Um. Also, on a side note- I *really* like this moodtheme. Ahem.)
Jack's fingers are deceptively light as they hold his wrists pinned at his sides, his body pressed right up close against Ianto's own, his breathing harsh and heavy as he all but growls his displeasure against his ear.
They are down in the basement now. The one Jack had sealed off the moment they'd finished the clean up of his girlfriend and he'd been forbidden from ever returning. Ianto hadn't taken kindly to the command and made it his mission to visit the room as often as he was able, if for nothing more than to mourn the turns his life had taken and taken from him.
Ianto had come down here not long after their return from the Brecon Beacons, his head a reeling mess and needing the peace and quite and the reminder that he was still alive and hurting and that's when Jack had come across him. Dark eyes raking over his body in ways that make Ianto shiver, scrabbling from his knees to his feet as Jack enters the room, kicking the door shut behind him.
The whole room echoes with the clang of slamming metal and Ianto's breath catches in his throat as Jack storms up to him, shoving him with force against the nearest wall- his hands quick to grab and shove Ianto's arms downwards- his fingers only now choosing to squeeze that little bit tighter, nails biting into already wounded flesh and Ianto bares his teeth and shoves at Jack with his upper body (legs kicked apart and barely supporting him) as Jack grounds into him without pretence and Ianto hisses and spits and curses- fingers curling fists, nails raking at the stone of the wall behind him as Jack leans in to bite at his neck- sharp, nipping bites that will bruise and bleed beneath the flesh and Ianto bites at his tongue to keep the sounds of pain from seeping past lips that are already swollen pliant from kisses demanding and brutal and of which he has no say in.
No control in any of this as Jack hisses obscenities in his ear and curses him for disobeying him, for coming here and daring to stay, for lying about their kiss and Ianto whimpers as his mouth is plundered once more with tongue and teeth, his arms dragged upwards- above his head and held in place in one strong hand as the other is let loose to roam his chest and down below- to touch him and mark him and claim him with strokes and squeezes that hurt-
-oh god how they hurt-
-and he feels cold air and hot hands, both feverish against his skin as his shirt is ripped open and he has to turn his face away, eyes clenching closed against the insanity in Jack's eyes and the tears that filled his own and there is blood in his mouth now as teeth slice flesh and he shakes so badly, so afraid, so very, very afraid and he is pleading and writhing to get away and-
-Jack, Jack! No, God, please no…!-
-Jack’s nails are dragging crimson lines across pale flesh in betrayal and forgiveness and punishment and everything and nothing as Jack ruts against him and he is forced to take it, to feel it, to choke back the sickness from it as, finally, he finishes with him, leaving Ianto to slide lifelessly to the floor- the hands, body, pressure gone; a sobbing, wretch of a man left as he curls into a ball and cries so openly and brokenly.
And from above him, the sound of Jack's harsh breathing burns at his ears. Damning him and shaming him and claiming him.
He knows. He knows. As he raises his head up; streaming eyes and shame-faced. He knows. He shall never again disobey.
[ end. ]
[ written as part of Caspe-Wri-Mo ]