Title: The Wounded King (Coda)
Characters: Canonical Torchwood Three members… sort of.
Rating: Some chapters definitely not safe for work.
Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Summary: A young soldier is all that stands between the kingdom and disaster...
Author's Note: Canon calls this one To the Last Man
Author's Note: Jack's Tower house is here here
Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here; Part Four is here
Jack skimmed through the stack of papers, initialling and signing as indicated. He was down to the last few pages when his inner senses tingled with the awareness of Ianto's presence. The sheer pleasure of it warmed him to the soul. Then came the familiar sound of footsteps on the stairs. Smiling, he applied himself to reviewing the last documents.
“Tomorrow at this time we'll be in London.”
“And Tosh and Rhys will be on their way back from Dinas Brin with Tommy's ashes.” Jack set down the pen and gathered the papers into a neat pile. “I told them not to wait fo us. The doctor will take them to the island.”
“Tosh mentioned it. Wouldn't you rather have done it yourself?”
“I thought about it, but...” Jack sighed. “They earned the right.”
“Yes.” Ianto sat on the edge of the desk, facing Jack. “I know you cared for him.”
“I cared for each and every one of the boys and girls I recruited, trained, and sent to die in that bloody war. Though I will admit to a soft spot for Tommy. He had an invincible innocence that let him look into the vilest of minds and remain untouched somehow. Not ignorant or naïve, just unsullied.” He looked up at Ianto. “You remind me of him at times.”
“It's true what they say, then.” Ianto's voice shook a little. “Love makes you blind.”
Jack heard the uncertainty behind the words. “Ianto Jones, you are one of the strongest, most decent, most human men I have ever met, in spite of all the horrors you've been through.” He willed Ianto to see the truth in his eyes. “And I wouldn't have missed us for the world.”
He saw Ianto's pupils flare and had barely enough time to brace himself before Ianto's hands gripped his head to hold him in place as Ianto's mouth crashed down on his in the most blatantly possessive kiss Jack had ever experienced. He dropped his shields, inviting Ianto in, and exulted when the invitation was accepted without the usual hesitation. Jack's hands came up to grip Ianto's head in a mirror image of what Ianto was doing to him, mutual posession in body and mind.
Finally Jack managed to tear his lips away.
“Downstairs. Now,” he gasped.
“Our bed at home would be much more comfortable.” Ianto's teasing little smirk told Jack exactly what he was up to. “It's not that far.”
Jack stood up, kicking back the chair. Grabbing Ianto by the lapels, he pulled him close. “Downstairs.” He growled. “Don't make me get tough.”
“Absolutely. Shivers down my spine.”
“You don't sound scared.”
“Well, it... passed.” He grinned and slithered away from Jack's grasp. “Come on, tough guy.”
They scrambled down the ladder and tumbled into the narrow cot, stripping the clothes from each other's bodies, sucking and biting at the exposed flesh. Jack loved slow, lazy sex, taking his time building up the heat, but some days... some days rough and ready and explosive was perfect. He moaned as Ianto pushed him down into the mattress and stretched out on top of him, grinding their erections together before setting up a thrusting rhythm.
“Slow down, for God's sake!” he gasped, at the same time his hips jerked upwards to meet Ianto's down stroke.
“You're having those body-mouth disconnect issues again, Jack.” Ianto brought his knees up so he was straddling Jack. “And I don't want to slow down. Not tonight.” He grabbed a tube of lube off the side table and slapped it into Jack's hand. “Get us good and slick.”
Jack poured out a generous handful into his palm then went to work preparing them both. He was too far gone for finesse, so he contented himself with making sure Ianto couldn't get hurt. Well, that and making him mewl. He loved to hear Ianto mewling, a soft sound that started deep in the throat and gained volume and pitch as it went, Ianto's back arching until Jack was sure he would snap in half, ending in a whispered litany of oh god oh fuck oh god oh fuck that would fade into soundless mouthings as Ianto collapsed forward to begin the cycle all over again. He watched Ianto lost in his pleasure until his skin was shiny with sweat and his thigh muscles trembled. Then, and only then, did he remove his fingers from Ianto's arse and replaced them with his cock.
“Oh God, Jack, please, more!”
Jack pushed his elbows into the mattress and offered his hands to Ianto. Interlacing their fingers and leaning slightly forward, Ianto used Jack's arms to brace himself as he moved fast and hard. Jack let him do all the work, turning his body over for Ianto's pleasure, finding his own in the sight and sound and feel of Ianto.
The pace was punishing and it couldn't last. Ianto's back arched again but his time he held the position, head thrown back, mouth open. Jack felt him contract around him, and the squeeze was enough to draw his own orgasm out of him. He let go of Ianto's hands and gripped his hips, pulling him down until he was jammed inside as deeply as he could go as he came. As if it had been a signal, Ianto emptied himself, spraying Jack's stomach as he slumped down, tucking his face into the curve of Jack's neck.
They stayed there for while, catching their breaths, hearing each other's heartbeats slow down to a normal rhythm. Jack ran his hands down Ianto's back, then, mischievously, used his nails in a particularly sensitive spot on Ianto's ribs. The touch surprised a giggle out of Ianto, provoking Jack into more and more outrageous raids, until Ianto was squirming like a five-year-old and they were both laughing.
“Enough, enough!” Ianto rolled off Jack and onto his feet. “”You're worse than Mica and Dafydd sometimes.”
He disappeared into the bathroom. Jack heard the water running and a few minutes later Ianto reappeared with a wet towel in his hands and a dry one thrown over his shoulder. He wiped Jack down and then patted him dry.
“Can we stand the sheets or do we change them?”
“They're fine for tonight.” Jack grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down for a long, luscious kiss. “Get into bed.”
Ianto scooted in, wrapping one leg around Jack's thighs and resting his head on Jack's shoulder, making a satisfied little ummm sound.
“I signed the paperwork,” Jack said. “I'll take them to Fineman tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you want to do it, Jack? The house has been yours for a very long time.”
Jack tangled his fingers into Ianto's hair. “It was never a home, Ianto. Just a place to live. Now I have our home here in Cardiff and the Tower at Hestan. That's more than enough for me. Gwen and Rhys need a place for a growing family.”
“Do you know something the rest of us don't?”
Jack grinned. “Let's just say I had the interior designer redo the nursery first. And we had a long discussion about cribs.”
Ianto sat up, looking at Jack as if he had grown an extra head. “Cribs? As in multiple?”
Jack's sly grin was his only answer.