Erin (etmuse) wrote in etmuse_fics,

Moving On - 18/18

Title: Moving On
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: R
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. None for s3.
Summary: Lisa is gone, and Ianto is starting to move on with his life, but it isn't always as easy as it sounds.

Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt and Turning Point.

Thanks to: My sister angelzbabe1989 for stepping in as beta, morbid_sparks for all of her support and idea bouncing through the writing of this, and pinkfairy727 for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens.

For previous chapters see Master list for this fic

Chapter Eighteen

It had been a long day, a very long day. The explanation of what they’d learned the previous evening – and the sacrifice that had been made for that knowledge – had been repeated more times, and to more people, than Jack dared to count.

And they were still no closer to finding out what – if anything - Peloski’s alternate personality had been doing when he’d been so upset to be interrupted.

“I hate days like today,” he sighed as he dropped down onto the sofa where Ianto was already slumped. “Giving good people bad news never gets any easier.”

“Look on the bright side,” Ianto replied, leaning into his shoulder. “At least you weren’t trying to extract brain matter from computer equipment.”

Jack wrapped a hand around Ianto’s thigh and tugged him closer. “I’m sorry. But it did need to be done.”

“No need to apologise, it is technically part of my job,” Ianto shrugged against him. “Just… don’t explode any more heads in the future, please?”

“It’s not on my to-do list,” Jack assured him.

“On that note, Owen finished the autopsy. Hopefully the reason for the whole head-exploding thing will be in the report he left on your desk before he went home.”

Jack looked over at the stack of paperwork on his desk and back at Ianto. “It can wait until tomorrow,” he said with conviction. “After today, we definitely deserve the rest of the evening off.” He stood up and offered his hand to Ianto. “The others have already gone. I reckon I put the systems onto remote alarm and take you to dinner.”

Ianto allowed himself to be tugged to his feet, a slight frown furrowing his brow. “While I’m definitely in favour of leaving,” he started. “Do you mind if we skip the dinner out and just grab some takeaway and go back to mine?”

Jack pulled him closer and wrapped his free arm around Ianto’s back. “Mind?” An evening together in Ianto’s cosy flat sounded just perfect. “Why on Earth would I mind?”

Jack blinked as the music swelled and the end credits rolled on the DVD, realising he had no idea how the plot had been resolved. What was left of the small tub of ice cream on the coffee table had completely melted too while he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Wait, how did the movie end?” he asked Ianto, a little breathless.

Ianto glanced at the screen, where the names of lighting supervisors and wardrobe assistants were scrolling past. “Umm… what were we watching again?”

Jack craned his neck to see if he could spot the DVD case, unwilling to untangle himself from Ianto any further to look more thoroughly. “Not a clue.”

Ianto shrugged, winding his fingers back into Jack’s hair and tugging his head back down. “Oh well. It’s not that important…”

When Ianto’s lips met his once more, Jack decided he agreed. This, this was far more important.

The background noise from the DVD ceased, the screen probably returning to the main menu, but Jack barely even noticed. Picking up where he’d left off before the film ending had startled him away, he unbuttoned another button of Ianto’s shirt, eagerly touching new skin as he revealed it.

Ianto melted into the sofa cushions under the attack of Jack’s questing fingers, happy little noises muffled into Jack’s mouth whenever Jack found a particularly sensitive spot. As the final button popped open, baring the expanse of Ianto’s chest to Jack’s exploration, the temptation overwhelmed him and he broke away from the kiss, trailing soft bites and open-mouthed kisses down Ianto’s neck, nipping at his collarbone.

Ianto’s hands scrabbled at the back of Jack’s shirt, rucking it up under his arms and taking his undershirt with it. “Why are you not naked yet?” he panted petulantly. “Too many clothes.”

Jack pulled away and met Ianto’s heated gaze, lust and affection pooling in his gut. “I have no idea,” he grinned, punctuating the words with a shrug. “I’m all in favour of nakedness happening.”

Ianto nodded once and wriggled out of the enclosure of Jack’s arms, righting himself on the sofa. Jack frowned, his brain taking a minute to catch up. “What…?”

“Bed,” Ianto said decidedly as he scrambled to his feet.

Jack definitely had no objection to that idea, and grabbed for the hand Ianto held out to pull him to his feet.

Their progress through the living room towards the bedroom door was slow; as soon as they were vertical, without the sofa cushions in the way, Jack pushed Ianto’s shirt to the floor, and the urge to nibble at his newly revealed shoulders distracted Jack from making any journey at all.

By the time they reached the threshold of Ianto’s bedroom, Jack found himself totally nude, and wondering vaguely how that had happened when he hadn’t managed to get Ianto out of his boxer shorts yet.

The thought vanished completely from his mind a moment later when Ianto spun him against his bedroom wall, pinning him against it and kissing him fiercely. Their hips ground together with minimal coordination, the tip of Jack’s erection sliding slickly across Ianto’s belly. Jack pushed ineffectually at the waistband of Ianto’s boxers, trying to free the fabric trapped between them. “Off,” he gasped between kisses, growling at the back of his throat at the lack of progress. Thwarted, at least temporarily, he abandoned his efforts and slid his hands underneath the elastic instead, gripping Ianto’s arse for better purchase as they rocked against each other.

“Fuck, bed,” Ianto breathed raggedly, pulling back long minutes later.

His knees shaky, Jack nodded enthusiastically and pushed away from the wall, letting Ianto go so he could stumble across the room. Ianto, much to Jack’s satisfaction, obligingly stripped out of his remaining clothing along the way, flopping naked and inviting across his bed.

Jack wasted no time in following him, crawling up the bed to crash half on top of Ianto, nudging his legs open with one of his own. Taking just a moment to appreciate the view, he dropped his head to Ianto’s chest, catching the nipple peeking out of the curls of chest hair lightly between his teeth and pulling gently.

Ianto whimpered brokenly, his hands restlessly grasping at whatever flesh he could reach, fingertips leaving tingling trails across Jack’s back.

Jack made to drift lower, eager for a taste of Ianto’s cock, but a firm grip on his shoulder halted him in his tracks, pulling him back up and over Ianto.

“Want you,” Ianto murmured against his mouth. “Now.”

“I know,” Jack panted in response, twisting his hips so their cocks slid together, sending sparks through him. “Let me…” He tried to dip his head again.

“No.” Ianto’s tone was surprisingly forceful; determined.

With some effort, Jack pulled away, staring down at Ianto’s face in mild confusion. “What…?”

Ianto freed one of his arms and reached out to the bedside unit, opening a drawer. After a few moments of rummaging he brought out several items. Comprehension dawned as a condom and a pristine bottle of lube hit the mattress. “Want you,” Ianto ground out.

Just the thought sent a burst of heat to Jack’s groin, but he had to be…

“And if you even try to ask me if I’m sure, I’ll…” Ianto paused, breathing hard. “Well, I’ll think of something, and it won’t be fun.” He tilted his hips, pressing even closer. “Just fuck me, already.”

Jack bit down on the urge to check that Ianto really was 100% certain he wanted to do this – Ianto had an imagination, and Jack wanted this far too much to risk invoking whatever punishment Ianto would dole out for the question.

Instead, with trembling fingers, he picked up the bottle of lube and, dismayed, discovered the plastic seal over the lid was untouched. Rolling half-off Ianto and supporting himself on his elbows, he picked at the edge, fingers shaking too hard to be any use in dislodging the shrink-wrapped plastic. “For someone who says he wants this, you’re not making it easy on me,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes at Ianto as the plastic stubbornly resisted his best attempts.

“Oh for God’s sake.” Ianto rolled his eyes and snatched the bottle from Jack’s hands, peeling back the plastic with remarkable deftness. “Please, please, get on with it before I go mad.” He flipped open the top before handing it back.

Once again Jack found himself fighting the impulse to make sure Ianto had no misgivings about this; all of his actions seemed sure, but… was he too eager? Did he just want to get it over with now he’d suggested it? Was he…?”

“Jack.” Ianto’s impatient voice interrupted his mental catalogue of worries. “Please.” Jack had to twist his shoulder to avoid spilling lube all over the place when he found himself tugged bodily back across Ianto’s body, lips fitted hungrily over his own, and all of his concerns flew from his mind.

Drifting kisses back along the line of Ianto’s shoulder, Jack nudged Ianto over onto his front, murmuring nonsense in his ear that even he had forgotten seconds later. Shuffling to his knees between Ianto’s splayed legs, Jack took a second to take in the view.

The fantasies he’d been stifling for months had nothing on this moment.

“God, Ianto,” he breathed, shimmying down to the end of the bed and dropping a biting kiss onto the tempting curve at the top of Ianto’s arse.

Ianto hummed deep in his throat and arched his back, the move drawing all of Jack’s attention to the sensual undulation of his thighs and arse.

With his free hand, he palmed a caress up one thigh, dipping into the crack between Ianto’s cheeks with his thumb. The tip brushed across Ianto’s opening, eliciting a stifled keen from Ianto’s chest.

Jack drank the sound in hungrily, pressing in again, more firmly, eager for Ianto’s reaction; he didn’t disappoint, moaning softly and grasping at the sheets beneath them.

“More, Jack. Please, more.”

Quirking a pleased smile, Jack ducked down and licked a broad stripe across the small hole. Ianto whimpered a little. “How’s that?” Jack asked, knowing he sounded cocky, not caring.

Ianto twisted his shoulders and narrowed his eyes at Jack. “That would be fantastic, if you didn’t keep stopping,” he growled.

Jack’s cock jumped at the throaty tone, and he dipped his head again helplessly, tracing the tip of his tongue around the rim, darting in for a taste. His senses were surrounded by Ianto; his smell, his taste, and the low moans that rumbled right through him.

Absorbed in what he was doing – lick, dart, swirl – and the eager flesh beneath him, the light tug on his hair surprised him. It took him a fraction of a second to realise that far from wanting him to stop, Ianto meant it as an encouragement: more, harder, now.

Balancing the bottle of lube on the bed beside Ianto’s thigh, he sucked a finger into the corner of his mouth, wetting it thoroughly.

Ianto put up no resistance when Jack tested the entrance to his body, finger tangling with his own tongue. Jack pressed in lightly, listening for any note of discomfort, feeling for any sign that he should stop, finding only groans of pleasure and relaxed muscles.

As Ianto pushed back, urging him deeper, the few cells in Jack’s brain that were still capable of coherent thought mused on the hushed, breathless conversation they’d had in this very bed a few days before. Ianto had admitted to a certain level of inexperience, but from his reactions thus far, it was clear that this, at least, he had done before.

Pulling back, Jack scrambled for the lube, catching it just before the open bottle tipped over. Upending it, he trickled a small amount down Ianto’s crack, the pale liquid oozing down to cover the finger still teasing at his hole.

Ianto jumped. “Fuck, Jack, that’s cold,” he complained, the vehemence of the complaint diminished by the fact that he was still squirming into the touch.

“Sorry,” Jack said insincerely, smirking slightly as he trailed his fingers through the slowly warming fluid, spreading it around, coating the digits.

He slid one finger in slowly, watching the length as it was enveloped by Ianto’s body. His cock jumped, the sight and feel of Ianto around his finger fuelling his imagination of the act to follow. Limbs already starting to go liquid, he draped himself again across Ianto’s back, dropping sloppy kisses over his shoulder blades as he gradually worked in another finger.

Ianto was boneless beneath him, little whimpers of pleasure escaping him that went right to Jack’s cock, making it harder and harder to keep things slow and careful. And Jack was determined they should stay that way – no matter how sure Ianto was that he wanted this, Jack didn’t want to hurt him. He was going to be completely ready before Jack went that final step.

Another finger later, and Ianto was grasping at him, demanding more. “Now, Jack, now. Want you before I come.”

Jack’s fingers trembled more than he’d expected as he fought with the foil wrapper of the condom, finally unwrapping it and rolling it on. He bit his lip as he settled between Ianto’s thighs to once again halt the ‘are you sure’ trying to escape; Ianto was experienced enough that he’d have stopped him by that point if he wasn’t.

He guided himself in, pausing after every shuffle forwards to reassure himself that Ianto was still okay; if the noises he was making were anything to go by (and Jack was trusting that they were) Ianto was more than just okay, he was enjoying himself a great deal.

At first, Jack did his best to keep the pace of his movements slow, what little of his brain that was still thinking unable to keep from worrying about hurting Ianto. Ianto, however, was having none of it, rocking his hips at an ever increasing rate; Jack instinctively thrust in sync, conscious thought disappearing in the face of incredible pleasure.

He planted sloppy kisses wherever he could reach, muttering breathless endearments into the heated skin as he felt himself approaching the edge. Ianto twisted his head, and Jack craned to meet him, lips brushing together haphazardly as they gasped for air.

Jack wiggled his hand between Ianto and the sheets, urging him to draw his knees up under him. Ianto cried out at the change in angle; Jack’s thrusts became shallower and faster as he chased release. Knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer, Jack wrapped his hand around Ianto’s cock, fingers sliding slickly in the pre-come pearling at the tip.

Just a few frantic strokes later, Ianto shuddered beneath him, a stream of incomprehensible words flooding from him as he spilled over Jack’s fist. Jack jerked his hips forward once, twice more, his release crashing into him powerfully, leaving him wrecked and sated, draped bonelessly over Ianto’s back.

“Jack?” Ianto mumbled a long minute later.

Jack nuzzled into Ianto’s neck in response. “Hmm?”

“You’re many things, a lot of them wonderful, but what you’re not is weightless.”

The unspoken demand couldn’t have been clearer. Dredging up what little energy was left in his limbs, Jack carefully pulled out, rolling to his back beside Ianto.

A handful of tissues appeared in front of him a few moments later. Jack wasn’t entirely sure where Ianto had produced them from, but he didn’t really care enough to ask. Instead, he cleaned up as much as he could, tossing the tissue wrapped condom into the small bin by the wall.

When he turned back to Ianto, he found he’d already done the same, and was watching Jack with one heavy-lidded eye.

Jack wrapped himself around Ianto, pulling him close and nestling into the pillows. “Okay?” he murmured against the side of Ianto’s head, beginning to drift into a satisfied sleep.

“Me? I’m fantastic,” Ianto responded sleepily, snaking an arm around Jack’s chest.

Before Jack could muster any reply, he was asleep.

Jack awoke with a mouthful of hair and a numb feeling in one arm. He peered over Ianto’s head at the clock on the bedside table. 06.35. The Hub had been completely unwatched all night, and he was feeling a little unnerved. Ianto stirred when he tried to free his arm.

“Huh? Jack?” Ianto muttered, still mostly asleep.

“I’m just going to check in at the Hub,” Jack said quietly, kissing Ianto’s temple chastely. “Go back to sleep, and I’ll see you later.”

By the time Jack had gathered all of his clothes from around the flat and was ready to leave, all that was visible of Ianto above the duvet was a tuft of dark hair. Jack allowed himself a fond smile, and left him to sleep.

It was approaching mid-morning by the time the cog-door opened to reveal the face Jack had been anticipating seeing all morning. Ianto’s eyes skated quickly over him and he disappeared directly in the direction of the archives without so much as a ‘good morning’. Jack frowned but let it go – the rest of the team were within earshot, after all, and they were still keeping ‘them’ quiet.

When Ianto walked out the door at 4.30 that afternoon and had still yet to say a word to Jack, he started to get worried. Was he regretting things? Jack began to wish that, despite Ianto’s threats the night before, he’d stopped to be absolutely sure. Something had evidently happened in Ianto’s mind between the night before and arriving at the Hub that morning, and it was killing Jack not to know what.

He considered, after the others had similarly drifted off to various homes, following Ianto and asking what was going on, but talked himself out of it. If Ianto wanted to talk to him, he’d have done so during the day. Clearly he didn’t want to be bothered, so it would be a far better idea to let him have the time he needed.

When Ianto was ready to talk, Jack would be there to listen.

“I don’t mean to pry, but… are you and Ianto okay?” Tosh’s words did nothing to ease the anxious tightness in Jack’s chest. Ianto had been quite obviously avoiding him for three full days now, and every passing hour had further dropped Jack’s hopes of any change.

“Of course, we’re fine,” he bluffed. “Just lots to get done.”

Tosh didn’t look convinced, but didn’t push, leaving her folder of results on his desk and returning to her own to collect her coat and bag. “Good night, then,” she called back before leaving for home.

Jack pushed papers around his desk uselessly for a few minutes before tossing his pen down in frustration. This had gone on long enough. If he’d done something wrong, it was time for Ianto to tell him about it.

He couldn’t stop possibilities from running through his mind the entire way to Ianto’s flat. Was it just that he regretted moving too fast that night? Or was there some more serious problem?

By the time he knocked on the door, Jack was starting to doubt if he really wanted to hear it after all. But he’d gone so far, it was too late to turn back.

He rocked on his heels as he waited for him to answer the door.

When the door did open, a minute later, the face on the other side was a shock. He didn’t recognise her, but she was clearly at ease in Ianto’s flat, with feet bare and hair loose and dishevelled.

His heart sank into his feet and he barely stayed upright. Well, shit.


Well, of course this isn't The End. There is another instalment on its way... just as soon as I managed to write it...

As always, comments and concrit are loved!
Tags: fandom: torchwood, fanfic, fic: moving on, length: 40000+, rating: r/nc-17, tw: jack/ianto, verse: guilt

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