Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood: Year 2, Chapter 9

[amuly]

Title: Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood: Year 2, Chapter 9
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 2,073
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When a seven-year-old boy falls through the Rift, Ianto and Jack decide to adopt him. This is the story of his life at Torchwood.
Chapter Summary: Sexiness happens, then Ianto silently freaks out.
Warnings: quiet angsting
A/N: I'm much happier with this chappie than I am the last one.

 

Previous Chapters:

               Prologue          |          The First Year:          |          The Second Year:
                                                  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10         1, 1.PWP, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
             11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17           8  
 

 

Ianto slid the door shut to Gwil's room, after checking for the umpteenth time on the soundly sleeping little boy. Strong arms wrapped around him, and Ianto allowed himself to lean into the touch. Jack's lips followed next, pressing to his ear, kissing and nibbling as the two men rocked together, until they formed the words: “Come to bed?”

Doors were quietly shut and locked as clothes fell to the floor in a flurry of cotton and silk. Jack's grin lit up the dark bedroom as Ianto shoved him toward the bed, all pent-up frustration and intense focus after Gwil's first day of school. Jack laughed, digging his heels in as skin slipped over skin and the two men began a fight for dominance.

Ianto was unconcerned. He always came out on top where Jack was involved.

With a quick sweep of his foot to Jack's knees, Ianto managed to knock Jack backwards onto the bed, who laughed and continued to struggle even as Ianto climbed on top. Using the leverage his position offered him, Ianto rolled Jack, pushing and shoving his hands against Jack's skin until he had the other man where he wanted him: naked, on his stomach, sprawled out on their bed. Ianto took a moment to slide his hands along Jack's back, admiring the way that perpetually tanned skin looked in the dim light of their bedroom, and how smooth it felt beneath his fingertips.

Leaning down, Ianto pressed his lips to Jack's ears. “You might want to crawl up the bed,” he murmured. “I'd want to hold onto the headboard tonight, were I you.”

The simple suggestion had Jack scrambling up the bed, fingers wrapping tight around the headboard slats as he settled himself on elbows and knees, perfect arse pointed right back at Ianto.

Ianto let his hands slide admiringly over the smooth globes. His for the taking.

With a firm smack to the arse, Ianto moved away from Jack to grab the lube off their nightstand. He nudged Jack's legs apart, spreading his cheeks with little warning and shoving two fingers in straight away. Jack gasped before the noise dissolved into a breathy laugh, pushing his hips back and forth as he relaxed around the intrusive fingers.

“Eager tonight, are we?”

Ianto responded first by smacking Jack on the arse again, which only caused the other man to moan as his head dropped down and his hips moved more eagerly. As he slid a third finger in – faster than he normally might, but sure enough in the feel of Jack's passageway around his fingers to know he wasn't hurting the other man – Ianto leaned down against Jack's back, lips brushing his ear.

“This isn't for you, tonight,” he growled. Beneath him, Jack writhed and pressed back faster, knuckles gone white wrapped around the wooden slats of the headboard. “I was the one out of my mind over Gwil's first day, I was the one who couldn't even get it up this morning, and I was the one who took out the alien queen so that we could get back here to him. You just sat back, laughing and playing the level-headed dad.” Ianto removed his fingers and slicked himself up with little preamble. Brushing the head of his cock against Jack's twitching arsehole, Ianto waited a beat, watching with pleasure as Jack's breaths quickened, hands twisting and flexing in place. “Who is this for, Jack?”

Jack's response was immediate as he tried to press back onto Ianto's erection. “For you, Ianto. For you: all for you.”

With a satisfied grunt of approval, Ianto pushed forward, head falling back as he slid into Jack's tight heat. He dug his fingers into Jack's flanks, teeth gritted as he immediately pulled out and pushed back in, opting not to wait the beat they normally did upon first penetration. Jack moaned his approval, head sagging almost to the pillows as he arched back against Ianto.

Ianto's thrusts were brutal and efficient as he pounded into Jack, settling into a rhythm and sticking with it as fiercely as a marathon runner. As his arousal built within him, an ever-rising force focused in his groin and spreading through the rest of his system, Ianto could feel his stress and tension from the day varying inversely to his growing orgasm. It was like the pleasure he found in Jack was moving through his whole body, pushing out the fears and doubts in the form of sweat and panted breaths. Muscles wound tight with tension and stress were now tight for an entirely more desirable reason, as he continued to thrust his way toward that singular moment of mindlessness.

Beneath him, Jack was making known his – rather vocal – satisfaction with the proceedings, moans and grunts and “Yes Ianto”s, “So good”s, and “There, there, fuck me harder, there”s tumbling from his lips in a stream of constant praise. The bed creaked and groaned in protest, especially as Ianto shifted position: leaning forward so he could grip the top of the headboard with one hand, continuing to hold Jack in place for the brutal pounding with his other. The muscles in his shoulder and arm flexed as he hung onto the headboard, using it to thrust into Jack harder and harder, until the other man was crying out his completion. Jack's entire body seemed to fold in on itself as he came, his shout of “Ianto!” bouncing off their walls.

With his last bit of control, Ianto kept Jack in place by wrapping his arm around Jack's waist. “What,” he panted, “do you... say... Jack?”

Jack's body was burning beneath and around Ianto, searing away any last lingering frustrations of the day from Ianto's soul, scouring him clean and leaving only the sensation of exquisite, precipice-straddling arousal in its place.

When Jack's only response was to moan and rub his cheek against the pillow in his beautifully debauched way, Ianto tried again: “What... say...”

Jack's voice was raw when he finally gathered up the breath to speak, and muffled where his face was pressed half into the pillows. “Sorry,” he rasped out. Ianto groaned, eyes squeezing shut as he felt his orgasm cresting. Jack continued, voice growing clearer with each word. “Sorry for teasing you. I'll make sure you get more time with Gwil. I promise.”

Ianto groaned, low and long as he emptied himself into Jack, thighs twitching in time with hips as his come filled Jack's passage. Giving in to his noodle-minded legs, Ianto collapsed onto Jack's back, rolling slightly to the side as he pulled out.

Before he could even open his eyes, Jack was sliding out from beneath him. Ianto responded by sinking into the mattress and refusing to open his eyes just yet. The blood rushing in his ears didn't quite drown out the sound of paper crinkling next to him, before a scrap of it was being thrust into his hand. He waited a moment, ignoring Jack's insistent little post-coital kisses to his neck and jaw, as he basked in the warm glow of his orgasm. He imagined he could physically feel the endorphins running from the tips of his ears down to his toenails, scrubbing every inch of his insides clean like a thousand little roombas for his anxieties.

Finally he groaned, opening his eyes and lifting his hand to examine whatever Jack felt necessary to give him immediately after sex. As his eyes swam into focus, he saw that it was the list Jack had forced him to make that morning: the list of all his worst nightmares about what could happen to Gwil at school.

A pencil found its way into his hand as Jack continued to mouth at his jaw. “Now cross one off. You promised.”

Ianto sighed, but glanced at the list, trying to decide what to cross off. Finally he picked the first item, opting to just go in order rather than try and figure out which one of the fears seemed less likely to manifest on the second day.

Things That Could Happen to Gwil:

1.] Bullied

2.] Run over by a car

As Ianto replaced the scrap of paper beneath his pillow and set the pencil on his nightstand, he found that Jack was drifting off next to him, mouth hanging open and arse hanging out for all the world to see. With a sigh Ianto leaned down, tugging the covers up over the both of them and settling in next to Jack. The other man snuffled sleepily, tugging Ianto close to his chest without opening his eyes.

“Honestly, Jack,” Ianto teased, “it's only just gone ten thirty, and you're fast asleep. I must have been better than I thought.”

Jack's lips twitched into a lazy smile, though judging from the sluggishness of his movements, he was already well over half asleep. “'s just you, Ian,” he mumbled, face pressing further into the pillows and words harder to hear. “'s terrible. 'old...” his face cracked in a yawn, “married couple.”

Ianto froze.

Jack was asleep the moment after those last words tumbled from his mouth, so he wasn't privy to the sudden tightness in Ianto's grip, and the worried set to his brows. Next to him, Ianto held still. Very, very still.

What on earth had Jack meant by that? “Terrible. Old married couple.” Did Jack think it was terrible that they acted like an old married couple? But then again, his voice was fond, and even in sleep he was still smiling, face practically buried in Ianto's armpit. So he seemed happy with Ianto, at least.

But then why would he say that? Did he think of them as an old married couple? But that would be ridiculous: Jack hated the word “couple”, much less “married couple”. To Ianto's knowledge, he had only ever been married once in his time on Earth, and that was to maintain his cover – so the Torchwood files had said, though the way Jack's face hardened and eyes softened when the subject came up, even in a roundabout way, suggested something more than just a marriage of convenience.

A snore interrupted Ianto's whirlwind of thoughts, shifting his gaze to his side where Jack's mouth was hanging open in sleep. But then... did this mean that Ianto put Jack to sleep? That he was bored of Ianto? Because that was what an old married couple meant in Jack's vernacular, didn't it: that they were boring, that their... relationship... thing had lost any passion that it once had.

Perhaps Ianto could try spicing things up? Their toy box had gone a bit neglected over the past year, between Gwil and Torchwood and all. Then again, they had just brought out the floggers and ropes last week, after Jack had gutted a weevil on top of Ianto, ruining his second-best suit. And they certainly weren't always in their bedroom: two days ago had been the kitchen table, and two weeks ago Jack had thrown Ianto against one of the cell walls and ravished him where he stood. He supposed he could bring out the lacy knickers and buttplugs when they had a moment...

But that was just it, wasn't it? That was the crux of the issue. With a child and Torchwood, it was next to impossible to find that spare moment when they could rekindle their... whatever they had.

Glancing down at Jack once more, Ianto found the other man still smiling in his sleep, looking unfairly gorgeous snuggled against Ianto's side. Ianto squeezed him tighter, pulling him closer. He'd just have to work a bit harder, that was all. Redouble his efforts toward pleasing Jack.

Unless Jack didn't want to be pleased by Ianto anymore. In which case... Ianto stared at the ceiling, willing the thought away. Should he fight to hold onto Jack? Or should he just let the other man drift away? It might be for the best, after all, if Jack detached himself from Ianto before something happened.

Ianto's stomach twisted and clenched unpleasantly. Any therapeutic value that their love making had was now gone, relaxation banished far away from the knot of muscles and worry that was Ianto's body.

If Jack wanted Ianto gone, he had no idea what he would do.


Continue on to Chapter 10.