Title: Foot Massage Conversations II: Meat
Word Count: 1,117
Summary: Takes place after "Meat", Ianto and Jack discussing Gwen's decision about Rhys and Ianto's close call. Very, very subtle DW spoiler, blink and you'll miss it.
Warnings: nothing, really. Not even Gwen-bashing!
A/N: I will eventually write a "full body massage" sequel to one of these, when I'm feeling more sexy and less sickly and gross. Stuffy noses just aren't conducive to sex-scene writing for me. I'll blame the cold for how maudlin this ended up, too.
C&C are love ^.^
Previous Chapter: I & Interlude
Ianto’s eyes followed Jack as he paced across his office: back and forth, back and forth. His hand gripped the water bottle, all but forgotten in his turmoil. Ianto stood in a corner, slightly on edge, though trying his best not to show it. If Jack would just sit down… “Him. She chose Rhys. That’s what she did, you know. She chose Rhys over m- over Torchwood.”
Jack still wasn’t looking at Ianto, just pacing back and forth. Ianto cast his eyes around despairingly for a moment, before coming to a decision. “Jack.” His firm tone of voice caused Jack to stop his pacing and turn toward him. Ianto cleared his throat and adjusted his tone to something a little softer. “Jack, sit down.” The command ended up sounding more like a plea, but Jack moved to obey it readily. Jack took his place in his office chair and Ianto breathed a sigh of relief. Relaxing slightly, Ianto positioned himself on the desk in front of Jack. With an almost reluctant sigh Jack leaned back in his chair and put his booted feet in Ianto’s lap.
Silently setting to work, Ianto stared down at Jack’s feet as he unlaced the boots carefully: first left, then right. Next he slid each shoe off, placing them side-by-side in a clear patch of space on Jack’s desk. Finally he slid off Jack’s socks, going so far as to fold them before tucking them inside the boots beside him. All the while Jack just sat quietly, watching Ianto work with an intense look in his eyes.
With the first press of Ianto’s thumbs into Jack’s feet, Ianto could feel some of the tension, anger, and confusion melt away from Jack. Quietly and seriously Ianto went about his task, thumbs moving through the pattern they had come to memorize over the past few months. “She did choose Rhys over Torchwood.”
Digging his thumb a little harder than strictly necessary into Jack’s foot, Ianto’s eyes flicked up to catch his. “But that’s what you wanted.” For a moment Jack just stared back, uncomprehending. “When you first hired her, you wanted her because she had a normal life outside of all of this, because she’s not…” Ianto smiled sadly, “…not as messed up as the rest of us.” Before Jack could rush to reassure Ianto of his normalcy, Ianto continued, voice firmer. “You keep telling her to have a normal life, to not let it slip away, and then you order her to do the one thing that will almost certainly cause it to slip away. She should choose Rhys over Torchwood…that’s what you want for her.” Ianto switched his ministrations to Jack’s right foot and waited in silence for a response.
He could feel Jack’s eyes on him, weighty and considering. Ianto refused to raise his eyes from his task, afraid of what he might see if he did. “Ianto.” He really could contemplate Jack’s feet for a long time. “Ianto, look at me.”
Ianto’s eyes flicked up, nervous. What he saw in Jack’s eyes assuaged any fears and doubts he might have: Jack was smiling softly back at him, a look of…amazement? surprise?...underlying his features. “You’re right.”
Ianto broke eye contact and turned his attention back to Jack’s foot, allowing himself a small smirk. “Don’t say it with such astonishment, Jack. Think you’d have gotten used to it by now.”
Playfully Jack poked at Ianto with the foot he wasn’t rubbing. “Right, right. I forgot you were always right.” Ianto lightly smacked the top of Jack’s foot, then continued to rub it. He lost himself in the smooth sliding of his fingers over Jack’s foot: the press of his thumb into Jack’s muscles, and tendons; the heat of Jack’s skin warming under his hands. After a few minutes he realized Jack hadn’t said anything for a while, and he looked up. Jack was staring at him sullenly. “Jack?”
Jack pulled his feet out of Ianto’s lap and slid his chair forward until he was positioned between Ianto’s legs. Glancing over his shoulder, Ianto quirked an eyebrow down at Jack. Tosh and Owen were still milling around the Hub somewhere and the office door was open. “Jack…” Ianto warned.
But Jack did something Ianto didn’t expect. He placed his hands on Ianto’s thighs and rubbed them, up and down, staring up into Ianto’s eyes as he did so. “I...” Jack started, then stopped. Trying again, he said, “What I said to Gwen today, about it being a bad idea to work with Rhys…” Jack trailed off, preferring instead to look down at his hands, which were still rubbing soothing lines up and down Ianto’s thighs.
Smiling, Ianto placed his hands over Jack’s, stilling them. “Jack, I know. But like Gwen said, we signed up for this. I signed up for this.”
“Not for this. You signed up to be an assistant, an archivist…” Jack smiled fondly, “a butler.” Ianto smiled with him at the memory. But Jack’s smile only lasted a moment before his face fell again. “You shouldn’t be in danger. When that man, Dale…” Jack stared down at Ianto’s lap, shaking his head. Silently Ianto placed a hand on Jack’s head, stroking it lightly. “I…”
Ianto slid himself off the desk, onto Jack’s lap. “Jack.” At the sound of his name Jack lifted his head to look at Ianto. Gently Ianto leaned in and kissed Jack: slowly, sensually. Jack kissed back, expressing all the fears, the doubts, the raw need that he couldn’t in words. Ianto accepted it all, gratefully, giving Jack back nothing but comfort in return. Pulling back, Ianto pressed his forehead against Jack’s. “Let me do the worrying, it’s what I’m good at. We can’t have you getting worry lines, after all. Don’t want to spend eternity as a wrinkly old man – can’t imagine how that’d affect your sex life.”
Jack lifted Ianto back onto the table, grinning lewdly. “Oh, you know me, Ianto. I’d get action even if I were a head in a jar. Speaking of which…” Jack trailed off, eyes drifting down Ianto’s body.
Ianto smiled. “Tosh and Owen should be leaving soon. While we’re waiting for them to leave I’ll finish up the paperwork and order dinner, yeah?”
Jack placed his feet back in Ianto’s lap and let Ianto slip socks and boots back on. Ianto slid off the desk and patted Jack on the shoulder. Before he could slip away Jack grabbed his hand and pulled him down for another kiss. This kiss was an entirely different flavor from the first: full of passion and promise of more to come. Reluctantly Ianto pulled away. “Paperwork and dinner first,” he murmured, before setting off.
Want more? Sequel here.
- Sequestered At:In bed, surrounded by tissues
- Level of Caffeination: sick
- Ambient Distractions:Torchwood - Dead Line