Janto Oneshots [smut]

4

All this 'checking accuracy' and 'working out what the hell I'm doing' is making my search history look quite colourful.

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"You know what would be insane?" Ianto began randomly from his side. Jack had his fingers intertwined with his, staring up at the ceiling, still catching the last of his lost breaths. "What?"
"You know those little head-massage things that make you forget what your name is for a second?"
"Uhhhh..."
"Imagine if you used that on someone while they were mid-orgasm. That'd be like... Twice as good, wouldn't it?"

Ianto needed no encouragement with things like this. Sometimes Jack reckonned that he was more daring than even him. "I've never heard of them."
"Jack."
He hummed.
"It's mad. It's literally just a little whisk-looking thing you put on the top of your head and push through your hair. Feels so good..." That tone Ianto uptook whenever he said that was delicious, it was one of those nights where Jack had the stamina to reward it consistantly, too.

"Maybe you should get one, then... Prove it's worth..." Now, Jack pushed himself into recovery, eager to get Ianto back up against him; whenever they could both keep up quick enough- and that happened criminally rarely- they typically didn't sleep at all. It was usually exclusively marathon sex and a couple of conversations inbetween that they settled for. That meant plenty of bedside water, and sheets that'd likely never be neat again.

"Maybe I will," Ianto put on that obviously-suggestive voice that gave him so much colour. Even though he couldn't see him, Jack quirked an eyebrow, "Good. Too soon to ask what position you want me to put you in next?"
"I don't think so. I'm steering you this time around..."
"But you're still gonna ride me, aren't you?" Jack confidently assumed, considering he was the 'bigger man' out of the two of them and it was just natural to take advantage of it. "I can ride you and be in control of you at the same time." Ianto lost none of his bravado, it was adorable.

Rolling to have Ianto underneath him, Jack tilted his head, "If you want to put me inside of you, you're gonna have to be good for it." In response, Ianto smiled politely, held a hand up to his chin and promptly set a knee up between his legs; that, in itself, felt incredible-- then he moved his hand to sit still on the side of his face and his brain went kaput. That was his trigger. Picking up a kitten by the scruff made them fall limp, putting a hand on the side of Jack's face made him fall limp.

When Ianto moved on top of him and reclaimed some high-ground, he was grinning. "Oh, I'm not giving you a choice, Jack," there was a distinguished air of evil in his voice that made him shudder, "I'm gonna tie you up and make you obey me. I'm gonna use you like you're nothing and you're gonna lay there and love it."

Oh.
Oh, fuck.

That man certainly had a way with his words-- who'd ever give him credit for that perfect change in tone he took at all the right moments? Ianto Jones was a genius.

"Code for: 'I'm gonna ride you and you're gonna lay and watch as I do all the work for you'?" Jack grinned up at him, basically begging to have hands around his neck without the pleading; that wasn't his style until Ianto really got him worked up. "I never said I'd let you watch. Plaything," Ianto practically purred the word, sending a powerful wave of warmth through his body and shivering down his legs. Suddenly his face felt incredibly warm. Was he blushing at that? Really? Wow...

Now he almost felt nervous-- he liked that. He really liked that. Nobody usually managed to make him feel nervous; sometimes anticipation, yes, but never nerves.

Damn.

He looked like a devil now. A gorgeous, sexy, Welsh devil... With a shamefully nervous laugh, Jack slowly retreated back up to the pillows, basically forcing Ianto to persue him slightly-- something he knew that Ianto would deliver on. The guy always did exactly as he wanted, whether it be shuddering beneath him or looming over him. Grabbing his wrists, Ianto held him mercilessly down, pinned at either side of him: hopeless prey.