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Title: "The Direct Approach"
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Rating: Adult
Notes/Summary: Jack and Ianto solve a problem on the Plass, but not without getting a little bit sidetracked. Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
writerinadrawer round 3 challenge 5: side effects and your mother's advice.
“You don’t actually want to do this.”
“Of course I do.” Ianto cupped the back of Jack’s head. With his other hand he gripped his cock and traced it along Jack’s bottom lip, teasing. “We do this all the time.”
Jack tried to catch Ianto’s heavy-lidded eyes with his own. It was tricky, both because Jack was on his knees and because of the way the light from the Cardiff Street Festival’s screen flickered and made the shadows strange. “No, I mean it isn’t your idea. Not at the moment, at least. You’re not yourself.”
“What about wanting to fuck your mouth isn’t me?” Ianto’s hand worked lazily along his shaft and gods, under any other circumstances Jack knew how that would be a call to bring other business to a close.
Jack tilted his head to the side slightly to indicate the veritable orgy going on around them. “The bit where we’re out in the middle of the Plass for a start.”
Ianto hesitated. Jack watched as his eyes darted to light on a chavvy looking trio, then a pair of women. “Everyone else seems to be doing it.”
“And if everyone lined up to jump off the Severn Bridge, would you do it?”
“What? No, I –” Ianto blinked, and his eyes went a little wide as sense descended. He hurriedly tucked his erection back into his briefs, but he was sufficiently flustered to struggle slightly with the zip and fastenings of his trousers. “Oh Christ.”
“Starting to get the picture?” Jack stood up and gave the damp, gritty patches at the knees of his trousers a token brushing-at. “Question is, what’s causing it? Think back. What were we doing before you decided to get all toppy on me in public?”
A few paces away, the trio was graduating into a full-blown threesome.
Ianto shook his head. “I don’t remember. I think we took the lift up. Something about a highly localized surge in Rift energy.” He reached down to pick up his PDA from where it lay at their feet.
“How localized?” Jack asked, eyes suddenly fixed on a particular point. He didn’t even notice when Ianto held his PDA up so that Jack could see.
“About the size of a festival movie scr –”
Jack grabbed Ianto and yanked him in, kissing him so roughly that their teeth clacked together. “I want you,” he growled against Ianto’s mouth and dug his fingers tighter into the lapels of his suit even as Ianto tried to push away. “Here and now. I want –”
Ianto brought their skulls together with a vicious crack. Jack stumbled back, disoriented and clutching at his freshly bloodied nose. “Fuck! What the hell, Ianto?”
“Don’t look at the screen!” He reached out, but Jack flinched away. “It’s hypnotic.”
Jack wiped his face clean with a hanky. All around him, couples and groups were moving beyond foreplay and onto the main event. Even a group of constables – probably called out to deal with a riot of public lewdness – writhed together, tugging at one another’s hazard jackets and stab vests. His gut clenched. Whatever these people thought they wanted now, it didn’t square with their usual motives. “The Rift spike,” Jack said. “It must have affected the AV equipment. We’ve got to shut it down.”
Ianto pointed. “There. Power cables.”
Careful to shield their eyes as they ran, the two of them hurried along the cables toward a pair of trailers. “Looks like a generator,” Jack offered, and the two of them set about unplugging everything in reach. Bit by bit the Plass went dark. Groans of pleasure faltered and gave way to shouts of surprise and anger.
“I am not looking forward to cleaning this up,” Ianto said.
“We’ll confiscate the gear, blame it on drugs in the water.” Jack felt gingerly at his face. “You head-butted me.”
“I thought you’d appreciate the direct approach.”
“Oh, I do,” Jack leered. “Fucking my mouth? Really?”
Ianto winced. “I was hypnotized. Though if it’ll shut you up –”
Jack slapped Ianto on the back. “It’s a date.”
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Rating: Adult
Notes/Summary: Jack and Ianto solve a problem on the Plass, but not without getting a little bit sidetracked. Written for
writerinadrawer round 3 challenge 5: side effects and your mother's advice.“You don’t actually want to do this.”
“Of course I do.” Ianto cupped the back of Jack’s head. With his other hand he gripped his cock and traced it along Jack’s bottom lip, teasing. “We do this all the time.”
Jack tried to catch Ianto’s heavy-lidded eyes with his own. It was tricky, both because Jack was on his knees and because of the way the light from the Cardiff Street Festival’s screen flickered and made the shadows strange. “No, I mean it isn’t your idea. Not at the moment, at least. You’re not yourself.”
“What about wanting to fuck your mouth isn’t me?” Ianto’s hand worked lazily along his shaft and gods, under any other circumstances Jack knew how that would be a call to bring other business to a close.
Jack tilted his head to the side slightly to indicate the veritable orgy going on around them. “The bit where we’re out in the middle of the Plass for a start.”
Ianto hesitated. Jack watched as his eyes darted to light on a chavvy looking trio, then a pair of women. “Everyone else seems to be doing it.”
“And if everyone lined up to jump off the Severn Bridge, would you do it?”
“What? No, I –” Ianto blinked, and his eyes went a little wide as sense descended. He hurriedly tucked his erection back into his briefs, but he was sufficiently flustered to struggle slightly with the zip and fastenings of his trousers. “Oh Christ.”
“Starting to get the picture?” Jack stood up and gave the damp, gritty patches at the knees of his trousers a token brushing-at. “Question is, what’s causing it? Think back. What were we doing before you decided to get all toppy on me in public?”
A few paces away, the trio was graduating into a full-blown threesome.
Ianto shook his head. “I don’t remember. I think we took the lift up. Something about a highly localized surge in Rift energy.” He reached down to pick up his PDA from where it lay at their feet.
“How localized?” Jack asked, eyes suddenly fixed on a particular point. He didn’t even notice when Ianto held his PDA up so that Jack could see.
“About the size of a festival movie scr –”
Jack grabbed Ianto and yanked him in, kissing him so roughly that their teeth clacked together. “I want you,” he growled against Ianto’s mouth and dug his fingers tighter into the lapels of his suit even as Ianto tried to push away. “Here and now. I want –”
Ianto brought their skulls together with a vicious crack. Jack stumbled back, disoriented and clutching at his freshly bloodied nose. “Fuck! What the hell, Ianto?”
“Don’t look at the screen!” He reached out, but Jack flinched away. “It’s hypnotic.”
Jack wiped his face clean with a hanky. All around him, couples and groups were moving beyond foreplay and onto the main event. Even a group of constables – probably called out to deal with a riot of public lewdness – writhed together, tugging at one another’s hazard jackets and stab vests. His gut clenched. Whatever these people thought they wanted now, it didn’t square with their usual motives. “The Rift spike,” Jack said. “It must have affected the AV equipment. We’ve got to shut it down.”
Ianto pointed. “There. Power cables.”
Careful to shield their eyes as they ran, the two of them hurried along the cables toward a pair of trailers. “Looks like a generator,” Jack offered, and the two of them set about unplugging everything in reach. Bit by bit the Plass went dark. Groans of pleasure faltered and gave way to shouts of surprise and anger.
“I am not looking forward to cleaning this up,” Ianto said.
“We’ll confiscate the gear, blame it on drugs in the water.” Jack felt gingerly at his face. “You head-butted me.”
“I thought you’d appreciate the direct approach.”
“Oh, I do,” Jack leered. “Fucking my mouth? Really?”
Ianto winced. “I was hypnotized. Though if it’ll shut you up –”
Jack slapped Ianto on the back. “It’s a date.”
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