Red Silk Dressed

Ianto checked everything carefully, five times, before making his decision. He'd checked Tosh's Rift predictor program every day for the last fourteen days, again last night and once more this morning. Between the predictions, the charts depicting average activity over the last twenty years, and his own instincts Ianto had every reason to believe that today would be somewhat quiet. Relatively, for Torchwood.

What he was hoping for, at least, was that once he arrived at work, he wouldn't be required to leave work -- and, if he did, he wouldn't end up humiliating himself in front of his co-workers, random civilians, and possibly the planet Earth at large.

It was a reasonable thing to take into consideration and he'd second-guessed himself two days in a row already, changing his mind and changing his attire. But once he'd made his decision -- today -- he'd felt unaccountably relieved. Fully dressed in a suit -- one no more or less neat, tidy, or striking than any of his others -- he'd known it wouldn't matter. His co-workers could find out, random strangers on the street, the whole bloody planet could find out.

Ianto didn't care.

He straightened his tie, checking the lay of his jacket one last time in the mirror before heading to the kitchen to get his attache case and travel mug of coffee. He'd make more at work, certainly, but he preferred his first cup of the day to be made at home -- with the beans he bought from around the world and not to be wasted on such heathens as his co-workers.

He served Jack his best coffee on occasion, but not today. Ianto half-smiled to himself as he let himself out the front door of his flat, locking each of the locks carefully before heading down the hallway.

The fabric of his trousers slid smoothly over the tight silk he wore underneath.


Four hours later Ianto had finally managed to get everyone else out of the Hub. He'd done it by "winning" four free lunches at a rather expensive restaurant, one which was all the way on the other end of Cardiff. He'd deflected being invited himself by suggesting Gwen invite Rhys, and being rather uncircumspect about how he and Jack could possibly get on by themselves for an hour or two.

Owen had complained about being put off his lunch by the thought of them shagging, and Ianto had only had to ask if that meant he would be staying.

"We promise to keep the noise down a bit," he'd said, and Owen had grabbed his jacket and run for the stairs.

Jack was still up in his office, and Ianto was toying with the idea of making them both wait. Just a little longer -- he'd been waiting all morning, thinking about it. Unable to avoid thinking about it when every move he made reminded him.

Shivering, Ianto watched the CCTV to make sure the others had driven away, then turned and walked up towards Jack's office. Jack was sitting at his desk, smiling -- no, that was definitely a smirk.

"Usually you're more subtle," Jack said as Ianto walked in. "Not that I'm complaining--" Jack was cut off by Ianto, grabbing Jack's shirt and hauling him to his feet, then kissing him.

"You...." Ianto began, already breathing hard and uncertain what he'd planned. More than this, grabbing Jack and kissing him until neither of them could breathe. He wanted more, but all he could do was kiss him again, grinding his groin against Jack, and the slide of linen across silk made him moan.

He found Jack nudging him backwards until he bumped into the desk, and Ianto frowned at him in confusion.

Jack laughed. "Will you be offended if I ask if you've been doused with an alien aphrodisiac? Normally you're not so...aggressive right off the mark." Jack's grin said he absolutely did not mind, but Ianto had to admit Jack had a point. Stranger things had happened here at Torchwood.

"Not alien," Ianto managed. He opened his mouth to explain, then remembered. His carefully thought-out plan. He gave Jack a steady, hopefully not-possessed look, and said, "Undress me."

"Not alien? Then--" Jack grinned and nodded, slowly. "I should undress you. And find out." He slipped one hand along Ianto's arse, squeezing on cheek. "Am I going to find something interesting?" He pressed his hand closer to the cleft of Ianto's arse, and Ianto realised what Jack thought he'd done.

Ianto just smiled, and began nipping at the skin of Jack's neck. Waiting for Jack to make his discovery. He listened to Jack's breath hitch slightly, and licked upwards along Jack's jugular.

"Undress me," he repeated, and Jack finally moved his hand to Ianto's shirt. He tugged it free, then slid his hand along Ianto's waist, warm hands touching Ianto's skin, moving up along his ribs and to his chest. Fingers teased at his nipples, and Ianto wondered if Jack was checking for piercings.

Ianto pushed his groin forward, rubbing his cock against Jack's hip. Fortunately Jack got the hint and brought his hands down to the zipper of Ianto's trousers. Ianto's breath caught as Jack pulled the zip down, moving his hand towards Ianto's hip -- clearly Jack thought he'd come to work wearing a butt plug or a cock ring.

Jack froze as his fingers identified the silk of Ianto's underwear. Ianto looked up at Jack, and saw the knowing and intrigued smile.

"Not quite work-attire, is it, Mr Jones?" Jack gave him a soft kiss as his fingers began tracing lines along the silk fabric, pushing it against skin that was over-sensitized already. Then Jack froze again, eyes wide as he felt the edges of Ianto's underwear. Jack looked at him, hands stilled, then he stepped back, hands to Ianto's trousers and he pulled them down, sinking to his knees in front of Ianto. His hands rested on Ianto's bare thighs, trousers just above his knees, and Jack stared at the red silk women's panties that Ianto wore.

He could see the arousal on Jack's face, along with the wonder and -- as he'd hoped -- flabbergasted surprise. Jack looked up at him, and Ianto grinned.

He'd planned a few possible things to say -- witticisms, dry and cheeky or lewd and flirtatious. All that came out though, was "Fuck me?"

"Oh, yes," Jack whispered, and he pushed his hands up Ianto's thighs, across the silk underwear and slipping his fingertips underneath the lace edges. Around to the back, cupping Ianto's arse and Jack leaned forward, breathing hot air across Ianto's straining cock.

Dear God, he'd been hard since he'd arrived at work and he'd been very tempted to fake a rift alarm to get everyone out of the Hub at 8:30 that morning. He'd held out, knowing he'd want time -- a long two hours with no one but he and Jack and this.

Jack was moving his fingers towards Ianto's arsehole, teasing him with fingertips and the light press of his lips against Ianto's cock. "Jack," Ianto begged, bracing himself against the edge of Jack's desk. "Fuck me."

"I heard you," Jack said, almost distractedly. He kept touching Ianto's arse, teasing and never quite pressing in. He rubbed his chin against Ianto's cockhead, and Ianto felt his pre-cum dampening the underwear. Jack licked the spot and Ianto's hips jerked forward, wishing he could shove his cock into Jack's waiting mouth.

Jack grinned up at him. "You've been planning this all morning. I think you can wait a little longer."

"Two weeks," Ianto panted, trying to move against Jack's hands, wanting to wriggle out of the underwear and lay back, legs up and get fucked. He saw Jack blink at him. "Had to make sure the Rift wasn't likely to dump an invasion fleet on us, and arranging the prize of free lunch took a few days. For God's sake, Jack, are you going to fuck me or should I do it myself?"

For a long moment Jack didn't answer, didn't even move, then finally one finger pressed against his arsehole, and Jack's lips were on his cock -- still through fabric but Ianto didn't mind as much as long as Jack would just-- he did, then, one finger slowly pressing inside and Ianto's head fell back and he wanted to scream.

He found himself begging, instead, which served the same purpose. Jack began working his fingertip in and out, slowly; Ianto fumbled in his jacket pocket and held out a small packet of lube. Jack took it without comment and tore it open, spreading it on his fingers and slipping them inside Ianto's underwear and inside his arse.

Ianto moaned as Jack began finger-fucking him, gripping the edge of the desk to hold himself upright. He gasped as Jack added a second finger, then let himself be pushed backwards to lie on the desk, knocking files and who knew what else onto the floor.

Jack tugged his trousers farther down and Ianto held his legs up, helping by not interfering. He readied himself to lift his hips so Jack could slide the underwear off, but he didn't. Instead, Jack stood between Ianto's legs, looking down at him and continued sliding his fingers in and out.

When Ianto started to protest, Jack added a third finger and all Ianto could do was gasp.

Jack's hand pressed down on his cock -- still through the fabric, damn him, and Ianto made a strangled noise as Jack cupped his palm and rubbed, one long stroke then back up, all in time with the fingers he was fucking him with.

"Oh God, Jack-- Jack! Please, please fuck me, please--" Ianto gripped his knees tightly, wishing he could somehow think clearly enough to force Jack to fuck him properly. He could do with a bit of mind control at the moment, Jack proving annoyingly stubborn, fucking him with his fingers and not even touching his cock with skin--

"Open your eyes," Jack said calmly, and Ianto looked at him, eyes locking as Jack pushed his fingers in deep, squeezing Ianto's cock and rubbing the silk against the length of his shaft and Ianto found himself shouting, coming as hard as he could ever remember. Jack pressed the palm of his hand down hard, rubbing Ianto's cock as he came, saying something that might have been encouragement or reciting the times tables for all Ianto's brain could process.

He could still feel Jack's fingers inside him as he began to relax, and the aches in his hips told him he needed to move his legs, soon. Jack leaned down and kissed him, and Ianto began to smile. Not what he'd been planning, exactly, but he could hardly find it in himself to complain. Then Jack pulled off the wet, sticky underwear, dragging Ianto's trousers off at the same time, and dropped them on the floor. Then he unzipped his own trousers and pushed himself against -- then inside -- Ianto's arse.

Jack thrust once, then settled himself with his cock buried deep. "So, Mr Jones. Not exactly your standard work attire," he repeated.

Ianto had always found it maddening that Jack could do this, carry on a conversation as if his cock wasn't in someone's arse. Ianto just gasped, lightly, and sighed. He'd already come, so he really didn't mind -- for now -- if Jack just stood right where he was, talking. He felt Jack move, a bit, and knew it wouldn't be long before Jack started fucking him.

Ianto just smiled. Then he squeezed his arse, tight, and Jack's eyes snapped shut.

Then, finally, Ianto got properly fucked.

the end