Fiction: Ianto Jones and the Curious Case of the Tentacles (Torchwood)

[seedee]

Characters: Jack/Ianto, Torchwood
Rating: NC-17 for graphic slash involving tentacles
Wordcount: 1,800
Summary: If there was an unknown alien object on your desk, would you touch it?
Author's notes: Written for tree00faery who kindly donated for help_haiti in return for a ficlet. I tried to stay close to your request, and I really, really hope you like this. Thank you, Annie, for a quick and helpful beta. Remaining mistakes are mine.


Ianto Jones and the Curious Case of the Tentacles

The first time was an accident.

The sleek, green, box-shaped object had come through the rift without announcing itself other than the fact that it was suddenly there, standing innocently on Jack's desk. It had symbols that didn't look painted or engraved but as if they'd grown inside the surface organically. It was alien.

Jack watched it with mounting curiosity, studying it closely before he got up from his chair and went to get one of the scanners. He didn't dare touch it without knowing more.

It was late, already past midnight, and the hub was quiet and empty, with the exception of their caged guests in the lower levels. Jack didn't worry about them; they were safe and secure.

There was no visible opening, no lock, nothing that would identify the object as a container. There was nothing else either. It was just a pretty cubicle. That's what the results of the scans said; Jack didn't believe that was even close to the truth.

He tilted his head and looked again at the symbols he couldn't read, cursing the computer that wasn't helping. With a slight shrug and a slighter smirk, he reached out and touched it. What was the worst that could happen? Death? Jack snorted.

*

Ianto adjusted his tie as he stepped into the hub. It was early in the morning, barely dawn, and his thoughts circled around coffee, the files of the latest Weevil mishaps and the improved data documenting system that Tosh had introduced the previous day.

He climbed the stairs as he heard a strangled curse. It was Jack's voice - the only one who was there at this time of day - and it was coming from the direction of Jack's office.

Ianto paused, considering whether he'd need a gun, and then let out a small chuckle when he heard another curse. It sounded far more like annoyance than distress.
Less than a minute later, Ianto was leaning against the door frame and watched Jack struggle with a box that seemed to held him captive and glued to the desk. "Your new workout routine?"

Jack frowned and stopped struggling. "Are you implying that my old one isn't good enough?"

"Oh no, I was just implying that there are tentacles keeping your arms fixed to the desk." Ianto looked more closely. "They grow out of some kind of box. I reckon you'd be far too careful to touch something you don't know, so I gather this is deliberate. Which means it's either workout or a mating ritual. You're dressed, so I ruled out the latter."

"Fine work, Sherlock. Now do me a favour and give me a hand."

"You've said that before," Ianto said dryly.

***
The second time was deliberate.

It happened because Jack couldn't forget the first time. Once Ianto had leaned over him, and Jack had smelled the clean sharp scent of his aftershave, and then Ianto had moved just so, and Jack had brushed against him, and Ianto had turned, pressing his hip into Jack's groin - yeah, at that point, Jack had thought it wasn't all that bad to be caught.

But then Ianto had muttered, "Why won't you release him," and the thing had released him, and they both had boggled at the box that looked as innocent as ever, and the moment had been over.

Fortunately, one lost moment didn't mean they couldn't have another one.

Jack heard footsteps. He was relieved, as the position was getting uncomfortable. The box was still on his desk, and Jack was leaning backwards against the edge of the table. He'd reached behind himself and touched the object with both hands.
He was bound to the desk, his back arched, his shirt open and his trousers unbuttoned. There was no way that Ianto could miss the hint.

*
Ianto whistled as he entered the hub. He'd had a good morning, got up in time, taken a hot shower, bought breakfast for everyone, and was at work five minutes earlier than usual, and at least an hour before the rest of them would come. He stopped in his tracks when he heard music coming from Jack's office. "What now?" he muttered.

Less than a minute later, Ianto was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Do you need help, sir? Again?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curved into an amused little smile.
Jack nodded. "There was an accident, you see."

"I see." Ianto nodded as well, trying to be serious. "What kind of accident would cause this position?" He walked over to Jack slowly, looking at him from one side, and then from the other. He ran one single finger down the gap of Jack's shirt, watching him tremble. "Did the box attack you?"

Jack shook his head. "No."

"No?" Ianto folded back Jack's shirt, revealing his chest. He circled a nipple with his finger, tweaked the other one, and then splayed his fingers wide on Jack's stomach. "Did you trip and stumble and touch it by accident?"
Jack shook his head again. "No," he said, nostrils flared.

Ianto stepped between Jack's legs, brushed his lips over a cheekbone. He reached down and pushed Jack's trousers and pants down over his hips, exposing him. He ran one finger from the base of his erection up to the top. He wondered whether the tentacles that came from the box would again obey his orders. "Pull him back a bit," he said.

The thing from the box complied without hesitation. Jack groaned as he was pulled backwards, his arse pressing against the edge of the desk, his back arched. It was a beautiful sight.
Ianto leaned down and licked a nipple. He closed his hand around Jack's cock, and smiled at the moan he got in return.

***
The third time was an order.

"Touch it," Ianto said. He was caught up in a mix of emotions. The prevalent one was relief. Or maybe it was frustration. Or maybe it was anger. Or maybe it was this bloody helplessness of having to watch Jack die over and over and over again. There was a limit. And Ianto had reached it.

"Touch it," he said again.

Jack's grin faltered and he took a step backwards. "Please tell me you're not possessed by an alien life form. That growl in your voice is sexy; I'd hate to lose it during the exorcism."

No, Ianto corrected himself. It was fondness gone wild. It was a storm that had been brewing within his stoic exterior. It was all the bad metaphors and then some.

"Touch it. And don't make me say it again." He fixed Jack with a glare, not wavering.

"Yes, sir, Ianto Jones." Jack sounded amused as he turned around and reached for the box that was standing in the middle of the table.

"Don't you yes-sir me," Ianto said but it was getting hard to fight the smile that tried to make its way onto his face.

Jack's lids fluttered as the tentacles wound themselves around his arms, tugging at him until his palms were flat on the table. He had to look back over his shoulder to see Ianto. "But you like it when I yes-sir you," he said and wiggled his bum.
Ianto didn't argue.

*

There were some things in life that reminded Jack that all his personal suffering might be worth it. Standing with his trousers pooled around his ankles, bent over his own desk and being spanked by a man in a suit who genuinely cared for him was one of those things.

But then Ianto stopped, and Jack groaned, his aching arse hot and exposed. Instead there was a tender touch, soothing his sore flesh. It wasn't what he wanted. In a sense, those soft fingertips trailing down his cheeks were more painful than the hard slaps he'd received earlier.

"You don't like that, do you?" Ianto asked. There was intensity in his voice.
The fingers dipped between his cheeks, and Jack groaned in frustration. "Come on, Ianto." He pushed back against those fingers.

Ianto chuckled. "I'm just being careful with you." Feather-light touches danced down Jack's crease, teased the spot behind Jack's balls.

Jack clenched his teeth. "No need to be-"

Ianto pinched the tender skin of Jack's balls, and Jack gasped at the sharp twinge.

"Someone has to be careful with you," Ianto said, soothing the skin with gentle strokes of his thumb. "Because you are not."

Jack made a sound that came close to whining when Ianto cupped his balls and rolled them in his hand. The gentleness was killing him. And he'd already died once that day. "I am careful," he said.

Ianto laughed and tugged, and Jack hissed in return.

"You don't bloody care if you get hurt," Ianto said, and Jack heard the pain in his voice. Something that was so out of character for him that Jack started to worry - until he went back to rolling and stroking and dragging his fingers back up. "You don't bloody care if you die."

"I can't die," Jack ground out.

"You die all the time."

Ianto held him with a tight grip around his balls, and Jack went on tip-toes to release some pressure. His erection hadn't softened. "I can't help it," he said, sweat running down his back.

"I can't help that either," Ianto said.

"You could if you wanted to."

Ianto hummed his agreement, seemingly unconcerned. He ran his fingers over Jack's arse, between his cheeks, petted his most secret places while still holding Jack's balls. Jack was shaking.

Still, he had himself under control - until Ianto's hands moved. He slid them apart, one gripped Jack's cock firmly, the other disappeared for a moment and then returned, slick now, and the teasing gained purpose.

Jack pressed his face against his own shoulder and moaned. He spread his legs in invitation, and Ianto complied, sliding two fingers into him.

And then there was stroking inside and outside, fingers pressing against places that made Jack see stars. And Ianto stepped closer because he knew how it turned Jack on to feel the expensive fabric of his suit against his bare leg.

Helplessly confined, and unable to do anything but stand there and take it, Jack was pushed towards the edge and then over it, and he was floating, coating Ianto's fingers, seeing stars - the good kind, not those he saw when he was in the place between life and death.

And when the mess was cleaned up, and Jack was free again, and Ianto's tie was finally loosened, Jack said, "I was hoping that you'd fuck me like that."
Ianto winked at him. "Don't worry, there's always a next time," he said, closing the lid of the box that sealed itself seamlessly.

Comments

[hab318princess.livejournal.com]

wow, that was great (I'm so getting into tentacles now)

[vanseedee.livejournal.com]

Tentacles are kind of charming. Thank you!