Torchwood Fic: Another day at the office (Jack/Ianto, Adult)

[marita_c]

Title: Another day at the office (Birthday fic for sulla_ )
Word count: ~3,000
Characters: Jack/Ianto (the team for decoration purposes only...)
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Rating: NC-17 for sex (or KP for Kinky Pr0n). 
Summary: Jack and Ianto. Inappropriate conduct during work hours.
 
Prompt:  I thought I was done writing Torchwood (really!) but then sulla_  made a birthday wish, and I just couldn't say no. She asked for a raunchy, explicit PWP, Jack in control, pliant Ianto, a buttplug and no angst. This is what came out. Happy B-Day love, hope you like it  ;)

Many thanks to stuffphile  for the beta! 
 

Predictably, Jack is gone by the time Ianto wakes up. The Captain rarely stays until morning, preferring not to leave the Hub unattended for more than a few hours at a time. Ianto yawns, stretching a little, but freezes as his hand hits something on the pillow next to him. He blinks in surprise at the small box, and then smiles. Jack remembered. Ianto sits up in bed, box in hand, and unties the dark red ribbon. It falls away and he quickly opens his gift. The toy inside comes as no surprise, because if anyone would consider a buttplug as a romantic birthday gift, it’s Jack. Ianto unfolds the attached note and skims over the words. Then reads them again. Once he’s sure the note means what he think it means, Ianto lets it drop and finally takes out the plug. It’s medium sized — big enough to stay in place, not big enough to be uncomfortable. The material is like nothing he’s ever seen before, which arouses his suspicion regarding its origin. When he squeezes it between his fingers, it’s firm yet supple. Not as heavy as silicone, and the texture… Ianto runs his fingers over the smooth curves. It’s like silky glass. Half-transparent with a bluish tinge, and Ianto can make out some kind of mechanism embedded in its core, but the surface is seamless — no buttons or battery chamber. Ianto studies the plug for a few more minutes before slowly climbing out of bed. He takes it with him as he goes into the shower. *** Ianto can hear the shouting even before he reaches the main level of the Hub. Rolling his eyes, he makes the smart choice and heads towards the pterodactyl nest rather than Jack’s office. It’s That Time of the Month again, when the Home Office wants to play ‘Blame Torchwood’, and Jack refuses to cooperate. Ianto expects that the captain will be on the phone with them for some time. The shouting is still going on when Tosh, and fifteen minutes later Gwen and Owen, come in. They seem quite happy to steer clear of Jack’s office as well. Ianto brings in Jack’s coffee first, choosing to get it out of the way. Jack acknowledges him with a tight smile that is shortly interrupted by a frown and the tightening of his fingers around the phone. Ianto makes a hasty retreat just as a new bout of shouting starts up. Half an hour later and to everyone’s relief, the call finally ends. Jack looks particularly sour as he steps out of his office. “Meeting, downstairs, five minutes!” he bellows before turning around. He pauses before re-entering his office and calls over his shoulder, “Ianto, can you get me a copy of the latest autopsy results?” “Of course, Sir,” Ianto replies, already sifting through the pile of documents on his desk. As Gwen, Tosh and Owen gather their own stuff and prepare to make their way downstairs, Ianto enters Jack’s office, folder in hand. Jack isn’t at his desk. Ianto spots him at the back of his office, rummaging inside a drawer. “The autopsy results,” Ianto declares, waving the folder and then setting it on the desk. “C’mere a minute,” Jack calls out, not looking up from his search. Ianto approaches, stopping behind Jack and looking over his shoulder. “What are you looking for?” he asks. “Got it!” Jack declares triumphantly, pulling out a black pen. As he straightens up, Ianto becomes acutely aware of how close they’re standing. Jack’s eyes take on a predatory gleam, and in one quick move he backs Ianto up against the wall. “Iantooo…” he purrs. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning…” “You have?” Ianto tries to sound flippant, but the words come out slightly choked. “An hour and a half on the phone with the Home Office, and the only bright spot in the horizon was you,” Jack murmurs, moving closer and pushing a leg between Ianto’s thighs. His lips brush Ianto’s ear as he speaks. “Did you do what I asked?”  The heat radiating off Jack’s body, as well as his familiar, unique scent, affect Ianto to a point where thinking becomes difficult. It takes more effort than it should, but finally he nods. “Yeah.” Not as if there was any doubt that he would. He’d felt embarrassed, at first, dressing up to work, coming in, making the coffee, talking to his teammates, all the while having that thing inside of him. He’s also been half-hard all morning, hoping no one would notice him blushing at random intervals. Jack lets out a long breath. “God, Ianto, you have no idea what it’s doing to me, just thinking about it…” he pulls back a little and runs his hands down Ianto’s sides. “looking at you here, in this suit, knowing what you’re hiding underneath…” Ianto’s cock pulses, rock hard against Jack’s thigh, and the plug in his arse feels solid and foreign as he clenches around it. The air in the room is insufficient and too hot. “Jesus, Jack,” Ianto breathes. He glances towards the front of the office, the glass walls, praying the others have gone downstairs already. Fortunately, the Hub appears empty. Jack leans forward again, lips ghosting along Ianto’s cheek. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to wait, knowing that you have it inside… keeping you open. Knowing that you’re ready for me, ready to be fucked at any time…” Ianto shudders, closing his eyes, but opens them again, surprised, as Jack pulls back. Jack is smirking, holding up the black pen he found in the drawer. “Do you know what that is?” he asks, eyes glinting. Ianto tries to focus, to force his brain to work through the haze of lust. At a first glance, it looks just like a normal pen, but looking more closely, he spots a small, golden dial on one side, and a tiny switch. “Remote…?” he hazards, glancing at Jack with no little trepidation. He’s not sure he likes where this is going. Jack grins. He places the pen in his pocket and then takes hold of Ianto’s tie, just under the knot. “If I turn it all the way up I can make you come in your pants in less than five seconds.” He says it almost casually, but the slight rasp in his voice gives the game away. “Of course, I’ve no intention of doing that… It’d be such a waste… but I can more or less guarantee that the meeting we’re about to have is going to be very enjoyable for you.”  Ianto swallows, feeling his face flush. “They’re… going to figure out something’s up…” “Oh, something’s definitely going to be up,” Jack replies, clearly loving every minute of this. “but this thing’s completely silent, and your ability to keep up a cool front is very impressive.” With a final twitch of his mouth, Jack lets Ianto’s tie go and turns away. “Come on, they’re waiting,” he says, picking up the folder with the autopsy results on his way out of the office. *** Fifteen minutes later in the meeting room, Jack’s attempts at placating his team-members are proving futile.   “They can try and pin this on us all they want. I don’t care what they say — it wasn’t our jurisdiction and it wasn’t our responsibility,” Owen argues. Tosh, uncharacteristically, forgoes her quiet, polite demeanour and jumps in as well. “I’m with Owen. Had UNIT wanted our help on this they would have notified us when it was actually going down.” “I’m not disagreeing,” Jack offers, “but I think this attempt at throwing blame is their way of asking for our help in cleaning up the mess.” “Figures,” Gwen mutters.   “Tosh, can you give us the run down?” “Of course.” Tosh dims the lights, and with a few clicks loads her presentation onto the large screen. “The first contact was established four days ago, when…” Jack is only half-listening to her explanation, having gone over the reports thoroughly earlier. He darts a glance towards Ianto, who’s been unusually quiet so far. The other man’s gaze is fixed on the screen, but something in his expression tells Jack that his thoughts are elsewhere. “The first set of remains was discovered Monday afternoon, near the…” Tosh drones on, switches to the next slide, and Jack casually fingers the black pen resting on top of his files. He slides the small dial up to a low setting, and then uses his fingernail to give the tiny switch at the top an experimental flick.    Ianto jumps. It’s a small, startled movement, but his knee bangs against the bottom of the table, jarring their coffee cups. Tosh pauses mid-sentence, and Ianto immediately covers up by shrugging out of his jacket, as if this was his intention all along. He mutters a quiet “sorry”, and they all go back to the presentation. After draping his jacket on the back of his chair, Ianto settles back and sends Jack a pointed look. Jack has to work hard to suppress his smirk. Slowly, he slides his thumb up the side of the pen, towards the little switch again. Ianto’s eyes are inevitably drawn towards the movement, and he follows the slide of Jacks thumb with avid fascination. When it pauses, thumbnail just touching the switch, Ianto seems to stop breathing altogether. Another beat, and Jack flicks the switch, sending a second, brief on-off signal. Ianto’s eyes fall shut, but this time he remains perfectly still, short of a long, nearly silent exhale that escapes his parted lips. It goes unnoticed by the others, and when Ianto opens his eyes again, Jack tries to convey his approval with a look before purposefully pushing the switch to a continuous “on” mode. Despite the dim lighting in the room, Jack can easily make out the gradually deepening blush that spreads down from Ianto’s face, disappearing beneath his shirt collar.  If any of the others notice it, or the way Ianto grows tense, his posture becoming stiffer with every passing moment, his breath more laboured, they give no indication. Jack’s pants are starting to feel uncomfortably tight, his cock pulsing in sympathy as he imagines the electrical currents of pleasure that must be spreading out from the device in Ianto’s arse, stimulating Ianto’s prostate, his cock... Jack truly hopes his thoughts aren’t written all over his face. Very carefully, he places his thumb on the small, golden dial on the side of the pen and pushes it up a notch, increasing the stimulation. Ianto’s reaction is subtle, but unmistakable; Jack watches the muscles in Ianto’s jaw jump as the other man clenches his teeth. He seems to be having trouble keeping his eyes open, and as Jack’s gaze darts to Ianto’s hand, fastened around the armrest of his chair, he notices the knuckles turning gradually whiter. By this point Jack is so turned on that he has half a mind to just get up, bend Ianto over the table and fuck him right then and there, their audience be damned. “… as was the condition of the last victim, Arthur Jennings.” Tosh’s concluding words draw Jack’s attention back to their surroundings, and, regretfully, he flicks the little switch on the pen back to the “off” position just before the lights are brought back on fully.      The gaze that Ianto turns to him as he slumps back in his chair is filled with so much heat and desperation that Jack’s having trouble getting his thoughts in order, and he blinks at the others several times before his brain kicks back into gear. “Okay, so I suggest we start by dealing with the bodies,” he says in a somewhat hoarse voice. “I’ll head over to the hospital. Already spoke to the coroner,” Owen volunteers. “I’m halfway done in locating and erasing the CCTV footage from the locations. It should take me about another hour,” says Tosh. “Perfect, once you’re done, start calling the families. Gwen, contact local police, give them a description, as vague as possible, so we’ll know if more cases pop up.” “Newport too?” Gwen asks. “Yeah. Call Bristol, as well, just to be on the safe side. Ianto, stay here, we can work on the press release,” Jack says, trying to sound casual. “Yes, sir,” Ianto replies quietly, not meeting his eyes.    Jack waits until he hears the third set of footsteps starting up the stairs before he stands up and starts walking around the table and towards Ianto. “Can we… please go down to your room, right now…?” Ianto asks, voice heavily tinged with desperation.  “I was thinking more along the lines of right here, right now,” Jack rasps, rolling Ianto’s chair back and gesturing for him to get up. “You’re not serious.” Ianto stands up gingerly, and huffs in surprise as Jack pushes him to brace against the table. “Jack! What if someone…” Jack moves in close behind him and places both hands firmly around Ianto’s waist. “Shh…” he silences the other man. “Relax… They have plenty to do, no reason to come back down here.” He slides his hands towards the front of Ianto’s pants and quickly unbuckles his belt.  Ianto sighs. “T—Turn off the cam—Oh…” As Jack’s hand slips into his trousers and starts caressing his stiff cock through his briefs, Ianto’s words seem to leave him entirely. “I’m pretty sure they’re also too busy to sit around and watch us on CCTV,” Jack says, laughing softly. “You can erase it later, if you want... after you make me a copy. Spread your legs.” Once Ianto complies, Jack tugs the other man’s trousers and briefs down. He eases them just past Ianto’s hips, Ianto’s spread legs keeping them from sliding further down. The tails of Ianto’s shirt fall just below his buttocks, hiding any exposed skin from view. Jack moves to stand between Ianto’s legs, and keeps a hand on Ianto’s hip as he slides the other between their bodies. He reaches under Ianto’s shirt, between his cheeks, and finds the protruding end of the plug. “Did you like having this inside you all morning?” He asks in a low murmur as he nudges the toy gently. “Yeah…” Ianto sighs softly. He pushes back against Jack’s hand as Jack starts playing with the plug, alternately tugging, pushing and turning it. “Are you ready for something bigger? Because I’ve been thinking of nothing but fucking you since… last night,” Jack admits hoarsely, already reaching down to free himself from his pants. “You did fuck me last night,” Ianto retorts, then whimpers as Jack slowly pulls out the toy. “Well, then… It’s been hours…” The plug clatters to the floor, and Jack wastes no time before guiding his cock between Ianto’s cheeks and pushing in. One long, continuous slide later, he’s balls-deep in Ianto’s ass and it couldn’t be more perfect; surrounded by searing, slick heat, Ianto’s internal muscles gripping him like a vice. Ianto moans loudly, lets his head hang down. “Fuck, that feels good,” Jack chokes out. He rests his chin on Ianto’s shoulder, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as he struggles to keep still. Jack looks down Ianto’s front. He can’t see the other man’s cock, so reaches around to unbutton the bottom two buttons on Ianto’s shirt. The two ends fall apart and Ianto’s cock juts up between them, long, hard and dark with blood.    Pleased, Jack takes a firm hold of Ianto’s hips and starts a slow rocking motion. Never pulling out more than a couple of inches, he keeps his thrusts slow and even. Ianto is delightfully responsive against him, gasping in pleasure and arching every time Jack’s cock slides all the way in. When Jack rises slightly on the balls of his feet, changing the angle, Ianto cries out hoarsely. “There… Ah… Yeah…”   Jack groans when Ianto clamps around him, the exquisite tightness threatening to send him over the edge all too soon. He watches, enthralled, the clear drop of fluid that appears at the slit of Ianto’s cock. He rocks in and out again, sliding the head of his cock across Ianto’s prostate repeatedly. Ianto’s cock starts leaking a steady stream of precome, and Jack’s mouth waters as he imagines himself running his tongue along the shaft, collecting the drops. As if hearing his thoughts, Ianto takes one hand off the table and touches himself. He rubs two fingers across the head of his cock, spreading the stickiness around, and then brings the fingers to Jack’s lips. Jack sucks them in hungrily, moaning at the tangy, unique taste. He feels his control slipping and starts snapping his hips forward harder and faster. Ianto gasps, pulling his fingers free and reaching down to his cock again. “Fuck, I’m…” “Yeah, do it…” Jack hisses. He watches as Ianto wraps his fist around his engorged cock and starts pumping himself in quick, practiced strokes. It doesn’t take more than a few; Ianto tenses up and then cries out as long ribbons of come shoot from his cock and hit the dark, polished wood of the table.    Jack stills his thrusts, waiting as Ianto gradually relaxes, the final few tremors subsiding as the other man catches his breath. He’s right on the edge, every nerve ending urging him to rut mindlessly, and once Ianto has both hands braced against the table again, Jack lets go completely. He snaps his hips forward once, twice, and then tumbles to completion in a rush of self-gratifying, blissful jerks.  Ianto’s back feels warm and solid as he slumps against him, and Jack can’t help rubbing his cheek against Ianto’s shoulder and humming in contentment. ”Mmmm... we should do this kinda thing more often...” Ianto huffs in amusement. “Well, keep bringing me birthday presents like that one...” he trails off pointedly. “Don’t be silly,” Jack says as he pulls away. “that wasn’t your birthday present.” He slumps into a nearby chair and makes a half-hearted effort to rearrange his clothes. Ianto drags over another chair and sits down heavily. “It wasn’t...?” “A sex toy? Come on, give me some credit. You’ll get your real present at the party.” Ianto freezes in the process of looking for his handkerchief, looks up at Jack. “Party?”       Jack smiles sheepishly. “We planned it all yesterday. I’m supposed to keep you down here for an hour.” Ianto blinks at him very slowly. After a beat, he asks impassively, “Did you also discuss precisely how you’d be keeping me here?”  “They made suggestions. Boring ones, so I ended up improvising,” Jack replies with a shrug. “You have to act surprised though, when we go back up.” Ianto rolls his eyes and then glances at his watch. “We still have another thirty five minutes to go,” he points out. When Jack grins at him, wiggling his eyebrows, Ianto cracks up, shaking his head in amusement.  “It had better be a bloody brilliant birthday present, Jack.”