Title: Collaboration part 3
Rating: definitely NC-17/18/whatever the hell “shameless porn in writing comes under these days…. Or it will be in later parts. Not much in this one.
Summary: The Doctor and Ianto collaborate for Jack’s birthday present.
A/N: Don’t ask… its much safer believe me.
Disclaimer: If I owned Torchwood, there would be way more sex scenes, and if I owned Doctor who, David Tennant wouldn’t be leaving and it would not be a family show. As it is the boys will be returned later, when I’m done playing with them. No profit, so don’t sue, I’m skint.

Part 3: in which Jenny makes a reappearance and the Doctor gets an unpleasant wake up call…

Unbeta-d. Too impatient to wait for it to come back.

Previous Parts:
I don’t think he’s wrong
http://newra-skylarke.livejournal.com/4284.html
I didn’t know, I swear!
http://newra-skylarke.livejournal.com/4887.html
The Consequences of being bad:
http://newra-skylarke.livejournal.com/5394.html
Collaboration Part 1, Part 2

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The Doctor and Ianto poked around in the Tardis, looking for something for Jack.

“What’s this?” Ianto asked, making the Doctor look up.

“Erm… I’m not sure. Something I confiscated off Jack once. No idea what it does, but the Tardis wasn’t over pleased with it so I nabbed it.

“Ah. Ok then.” He laid it to one side, in what had been designated as the “no pile” some time before. He continued to rummage through the box of items in front of him, searching for a suitable present. He pulled out what looked like an odd cross between some pan pipes and a shell, holding it up with interest.

“What does this do?”

“Stroke it gently.”

Ianto did so and the small device gave out a note, a bit like a wine glass when you ran your finger around the edge. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered, sharing a smile with the Doctor.

“It is isn’t it. I rescued it from a grotesque museum. It was going to be filled with cement. Thought it was pretty. You don’t often find pretty things in places like that, so I brought it out with me.” The Doctor ran his own fingers over it, bringing out a higher pitched note, brushing Ianto’s hand as he did so, sending a spark through the young human’s body.

Ianto blushed a little, putting the instrument down, glancing swiftly at the Doctor, who lifted his hand to run it gently down the side of Ianto’s face. This only made Ianto blush more, and the Doctor smiled, leaning forward and stealing a soft kiss from the Welshman, not that Ianto had any objection to the kiss being stolen. He loved the unique taste of the Time Lord. It was familiar, yet completely alien, an interesting tang running through it. Almost like a sharp citrus flavour, though even that wasn’t quite accurate.

“Dad I just wanted to ask – oh sorry.” Jenny had entered the room. Ianto flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet, pulling away and busying himself with the contents of his box. The Doctor turned to face his daughter.

“Don’t worry about it. What was it you wanted to ask?”

“The rift alarm went off. Its nothing big, a piece of tech they think, but Jack wanted to know if I wanted to tag along, as you have run off with one of his members of staff. I just wanted to check that it was ok.”

“Sure, just make sure you’re careful,” the Doctor replied, shouting the last part as she dashed away to join the others.

The two continued their search in companiable silence for a little while before the Doctor looked up to see a blush still gracing Ianto’s features.

“You know she’s not all that bothered by the fact that she walked in on that right. She’s seen much worse. She saw what I did to Jack when he flirted with her. You all saw that.”

Ianto murmured something unintelligible.

“Say again?” the Doctor asked.

“I said, that was different. And that was Jack. Everyone knows how you and Jack are.” Ianto replied, keeping his head down.

“And? Everyone knows how you and me are too. Everyone twigged that he wasn’t the only person on the team I had my eye on. Mickey found the CCTV footage of us kissing in that corridor. And then there was the fact that everyone heard us going at it in the changing rooms.” Ianto flushed a little more. The Doctor titled his head up, forcing him to look him in the eye. “Are you worried by it? Cause we can stop.” Ianto shook his head quickly.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I meant… I … I don’t really know.”

The Doctor kissed him again, making him melt a little. “Well I do. And it’s you, and Jack.”

Ianto nodded, kissing the Doctor back, threading his fingers into the Time Lord’s wild hair.

When they broke apart this time it was with a certain reluctance, knowing that they had to have found something for Jack’s birthday before the Captain demanded their attention be turned to other things. Like him.

“Oh, what about this?” The Doctor passed him a small hand held device. “It’s a games console. Has over 300 games stored on it. Should keep him amused for hours.”

“It will. He’s really rubbish at them, but it gets to him and he wont leave it alone until he has it spot on. Rubik’s cube is the only thing to have beaten him to date. That’s a really good one.”

“He can try and beat all my high scores,” the Doctor grinned, placing it next to the musical instrument from earlier.

“He’ll obsess over it. I’ll have to confiscate it during work hours.”

The Doctor rummaged for another few minutes before pulling out a slim tube. “I forgot I had this.”

Ianto looked a little perplexed. “What is it?”

“An early model of my sonic screwdriver. Not as good as the one I have now, not as easy to use. Still pretty useful though. Jack scoffed at my sonic screwdriver when I first met him. Was much happier with his sonic blaster, which while impressive, suffered from severe battery power issues. Something I have never had to worry about with this.” He twirled it between his fingers. “Gotten me and Jack out of some tight spots before now. Good present?”

“Depends on what it does that Jack could ‘accidentally-on-purpose’ cause havoc with.”

“Absolutely everything. But it’s also very helpful at getting out of the havoc.”

“Can he blow things up with it.”

“Easy.”

“Can he break the coffee machine with it?”

“As if he’d dare. He lives off the stuff, and his team can’t function without it. How would he cope?”

“Can he annoy the hell out of everyone with it?”

“Yep. But he can also save the world with it.”

“Good present then.”

“Now for the hard part,” said the Doctor. Ianto looked at him, slightly confused. “Where the bloody hell did I put the wrapping paper?”

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The next morning, the Doctor was woken by something licking his face. He opened his eyes to find Jack straddling his hips, holding Owen above his face. The Doctor smiled. He moved the splatchling, placing him on the bed, so that he could lean up and hug Jack.

“Happy Birthday Jack.”

He kissed the Captain, who groaned lightly, allowing the Gallifreyan to slip his tongue into his mouth. He ran his fingers over the slimmer man’s bare chest, pleased with the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

At that moment a distant alarm sounded in the Hub.

Jack pouted, pulling back a little. “Sodding Rift alarm. Doesn’t so much as give a blip for you, but anything else it’s like a sodding foghorn.” Jack stood up, picking Owen up again. “Coming? You never pass up the opportunity to save the world from alien invasion… or from splathclings for that matter.” Said splatchling nestled in the Captain’s arms, looking expectantly at the Doctor. The Time Lord got up, petting the small being, placating him for the moment, before placating Jack with another kiss.

“Just so you know he’ll object to being left on his own at first and won’t half make a mess of the place if you do. Someone will either need to stay with him or he’ll have to come along.”

He walked over to the chair that he had unceremoniously dumped his clothes the night before. Ianto had been plotting with him via text message late into the night… plotting that had led to some rather sordid sexual messages that had had nothing to do with Jack’s present and were more to do with the two of them teasing each other. This had obviously led to the Doctor not caring where his clothing ended up and how many creases there would be in his suit when he got into bed. He had had other things on his mind at the time.

He located clean clothes and was about to start dressing when he realised that Jack was still watching him appreciatively, looking hopeful that the Doctor would abandon the idea of getting dressed and get back into bed, preferably with Jack in bed with him. While the idea was very tempting, the alarm was still going off outside, and Mfanwy was starting to make a rather disgruntled amount of noise to voice her displeasure at being disturbed for so long.

“Don’t you have a team to rouse?” he asked, shooing Jack out the door. He heard the human grumbling to Owen as he walked down the corridor. “You’d think, given that it’s my birthday…”

“Yes and from what I hear about Torchwood parties and strip games you’ll get what you want,” the Doctor mumbled as he dressed. That and the present that me and Ianto have in store for him…Jack would consider it worth the wait.

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Anyone who wants to see the convo that the Doctor and Ianto had via text message (or at least the bit that is strictly Ten/Ianto porn and has nothing to do with the plot of the story) will have to request it and then wait for me to write it!

Title: Collaboration Part 2
Rating: definitely NC-17/18/whatever the hell “shameless porn in writing comes under these days…. Or it will be in later parts. Not much in this one.
Summary: The Doctor and Ianto collaborate for Jack’s birthday present.
A/N: Don’t ask… its much safer believe me.
Disclaimer: I am the proud owner of some Torchwood Series 1 DVDs and a calendar. That is it. Oh, and a couple of John Barrowman CD’s and an autobiography…. But yeah… nothing else but a dirty mind…The boys will be returned later, when I’m done playing with them. No profit, so don’t sue, I’m skint. There’s nothing left in my bank…
Unbeta-d so all mistakes are mine. Sorry.

Part summary: in which Torchwood gets a new pet.

Previous parts:

Title: If you can’t beat them…
Summary: There’s no convincing him.
Pairing: Nine/Jack
Rating: Safe. Nothing bad at all.
A/N: just a little dialogue thing. Thought it was fun. Came to me at like two in the morning.
Disclaimer: If I owned the Doctor, he would never be lonely again, and if I owned Jack, I wouldn’t be either.

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“Oh come on! Release your inner teenager!”

“Nope. I refuse.”

“Not even for me?”

“Especially not for you. God knows what would happen.”

“Nothing bad.”

*Derisive snort*

“What? Am I really that bad?”

*Pointed look*

“So I am, I’m never going to change am I. And you know what they say, if you can’t beat them – ”

“Bid a hasty retreat and run the other way.”

*Sigh*

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See why it could never be Ten? He is like a big kid in a sweet shop, or possibly a large puppy… Never really decided. Anyway. He’s too happy. Nine is suitably sombre.

Title: Another ordinary day at the office…Until
Summary: Ianto’s daily schedule changes.
A/N: The italicised bit it almost identical to an Army advert I saw on the bus a few months ago, which made me giggle. I wrote it down (having nothing better to do on the bus) and I found it while clearing out my room last week (its amazing what turns up when you throw the crap out). Thought I would make a fic out of it. So credit to the promotional team at the British Army for that!
pairing: Jack and Ianto at the end. the VERY end. because it was the only way i could make it all fit in the way i wanted it to. sort of anyway...

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Alarm goes off. Press snooze.

Of all the things Ianto Jones disliked in the universe, there was only one thing he truly loathed with every fibre of his being. The infuriatingly irritating noise his alarm made at 0630 every morning of every morning of every week. Which wanker was it that got paid to decide that your morning wake up call should sound akin to a heart monitor attatched to a mega phone? Who ever it was should be shot. As should the tosser who paid him for the idea. Repeatedly. He started to dose off again.

Alarm goes off again. Wake up.

He bashed the off button on top of the clock, cursing his lack of decent sleep. He hadn’t had a single day off since he joined Torchwood London a year before. No rest for the wicked. Work started too early and finished too late. Torchwood wasn’t a nine to five job. Unless, of course, your name was Yvonne Hartman. Then you could turn up and fuck off as and when you pleased. Ianto’s was a start at 0730 and finish at 2200. And those were the good days.

Get up. Go to the loo. Get washed. Get dressed.

As he pulled on his immaculately pressed suit, Ianto considered what about his job he actually enjoyed. Being Junior Researcher down the “dungeon” (meaning basement) of the Torchwood Tower was hardly the most fun filled job in the world, and came with few perks. There were two. One was that he got to drink decent coffee due to the fantastic coffee machine, and the other was the fact that he got to tinker with stuff that most people could only dream of. Aliens. Time shifts. Artefacts from places beyond human comprehension. Amazing things.

Rush breakfast.

He grabbed a piece of toast and stuck it in his mouth as he grabbed his travel mug off the side and ran for the front door.

Check for keys, wallet, mobile. Leave house. Start car. Turn on radio.

Ianto swung out of his driveway, his mouth still full of toast, the rest of the slice on the dashboard. He turned out of his street and headed towards the motorway.

Get stuck in traffic.

Seven in the morning, and the traffic was at a standstill. What he wouldn’t give for Welsh country roads. He turned off his engine. No point in wasting petrol, he mused as the traffic report came in.

“Traffic is at a standstill on the M25 in both directions, with big tail backs on either side from junction 10, still not sure what’s causing the problems there but try and avoid it if you can.” The overly chipper voice of the girl reading the report did nothing for Ianto’s mood. It never did.

“Oh yeah. Great. Thanks for telling me that now,” he grumbled, reaching for his coffee. “Oh bollocks!”

He’d forgotten to put the water in. He stared at the now useless instant granules menacingly for a moment before sticking the cup back in it’s holder and picking up his remaining, and now cold, toast munching through it in a thoroughly dissatisfied manner.

The traffic report ended and Ianto choked in pure horror at the next word out of the speakers.

“And now Britney Spears “Toxic” for you ladies and gentlemen, requested by Alice for her daughter Sally, who is seven today!” the DJ sounded far to enthused by this selection. Ianto thwacked his head off the steering wheel as the opening bars filtered into his car.

Get annoyed by irritating song on the radio. Turn off radio.

Ianto spent the rest of his snailing journey in silence, preferring it to the drivel that got spouted out of his radio every morning. He really needed to get the CD player fixed.

Arrive late for work.

He walked into his office, smiling grimly at his co-worker Neil, who nodded sympathetically as Ianto dumped his coat on the chair by the door that the pair used as a coat rack.

Yawn.

He was so tired. Damned lack of hot coffee. He headed for the coffee machine in the corner, longing for the day when he could afford to buy himself one for his tiny little flat. He hated instant, but had little time for anything else before or after work, unless of course it involved copious amounts of sleep. That he had time for.

Make coffee.

He sighed happily as he took that first sip. Heaven in a cup. He picked up Neil’s and set on the desk as he passed. Neil looked eternally grateful, grabbing his cup in haste. He adored Ianto’s coffee, and waited for a cup every morning. He needed the caffeine. They all did in this job, but Neil couldn’t make coffee worth shit.

Ianto sat down and booted up his computer, drinking more of his coffee, deciding that he was almost glad that he’s forgotten to make the instant shit.

Wake up properly.

This was his only time where he could relax, before his computer was actually online. He couldn’t do much until then, so this was his minute and thirty four seconds to himself.

Check e-mails.

Bugger. Meeting. Damn. It wasn’t even an interesting one. It was the bi-weekly “how can everything that turns up that is alien related be linked back to the Doctor?” meeting. It was stupid, because the same conclusion could be drawn at every turn. They were nowhere nearer to finding him than they had been in 1879 when Torchwood was founded in Scotland. And what was worse was that he turned up all the time. He’d been in 10 Downing Street, and some idiot had let him go. Again. He used to work with UNIT, but some pillock there had cocked up too.

He checked a box in reply, so they didn’t hound him to make sure he attended and sifted through the rest. Most of it was crap. He wasn’t sure that the Spam filters on the e-mail system were up to much, given the sheer volumes of rubbish that came through.

There were a few interoffice jokes that had been in circulation a while now, some old, some new. The new ones Ianto read to Neil, who never seemed to get them, much to his chagrin. Then he spotted an e-mail to do with holidays to the Mediterranean.

Look for holidays on the internet.

He knew he was never likely to get a holiday in his life, but he was allowed to dream of getting one. He might, if he was lucky, get a week off for injury or something, and be damned if he was going to stay at home. He would go on holiday. Even if it was just a trip to Wales to see his Mam and Tad. It would be worth it, just to get away from this city. Just for the day. He wouldn’t mind being a field agent. They got to go places. He stared at the inside of this building day in, day out. He browsed until he had to leave for his meeting, interspacing the loading pages with random bits of work. He was generally efficient, and there didn’t seem to be that much he had to do today. Maybe he could go home early. He could almost bet his life that the moment Yvonne left, anyone who could would be gone within minutes.

Go to meeting.

He sat down and listened to the last four days worth of prattle, knowing all of it was rubbish. He rolled his eyes.

Pretend to be interested.


He glazed his expression in just the right way, so it looked like he was listening intently. He even “made notes” in short hand. Really he was just writing down his plans for that holiday, but he knew no one else in the room could read shorthand anyway, so it really didn’t make all that much difference.

Nod in right places.

He was careful to nod periodically, in understanding, earnest and acceptance, when really he had next to know idea what he was agreeing too.

Daydream.

His list of things to do when he got that holiday was getting longer with every passing minute, meaning that by the time the meeting was over he had contributed very little, gained even less, but had three and a half pages of notes.

Return to desk none the wiser.

When he was asked about the meeting he shrugged. “Same old crap. Don’t really see why I have to go to be honest. It doesn’t get anyone anywhere.”

Make coffee.

He passed Neil his coffee and settled to watch the interoffice messaging window for a bit. There was always something interesting on there, and he could watch it while working, as he still did a lot of stuff by hand and then wrote it up later, just for the ease of doing it. He could make sense of stuff when he could spread it out in front of him, more so than when it was on a screen anyway.

Listen to office gossip.

There seemed to be some sort of hubbub about a girl who did the accounts having been caught in a cupboard about to have sex with one of Yvonne’s secretaries, and it was the big news of the day, because the unfortunate girl in question had been hauled into the Boss’s office for “a little chat”. More likely to be railed at because the Boss’s favourite office boy got seduced. Oopsie. Ianto sniggered.

Go to stationary cupboard for paperclips.

He did need the paper clips, mostly to stop his various bits of paper getting muddled up, something that happened all too often due to the pitiful size of his desk, and the amount of space his computer took up on said desk. The other reason for wanting them was that he could use them to mend the stupid desk temporarily, as a sort of replacement for screws in one of the legs, which apparently it was too much hassle to repair. Ianto was going to bring in a screwdriver and a screw tomorrow, because it was getting stupid.

Avoid person you snogged at the Christmas party.

The girl almost saw him, almost. She was pretty, but stupid, and he couldn’t abide stupid people. He’d been very drunk at the Christmas party, and therefore had not been altogether responsible for his actions. Once he was sure she had gone, he went back to his office to repair his desk, for the third time that day.

Check e-mails. Make interesting sculpture out of paperclips.

It looked sort of like a dog, or possibly a sheep. It was a little difficult to tell. He asked what Neil thought, and the response was far from inspirational.

“It looks like you’re playing with some paperclips Yan.” It was a good natured reprimand, meaning if anyone rats up to Yvonne he’d get his ass whipped, and not in a good way.

Shuffle paper.

He sighed and started sorting through the pile of paperwork, not actually doing anything except organising it and putting all the pages where they should go.

Look busy. Check watch.

Half one. Fantastic. Food. He asked if Neil wanted anything and got the usual shake of the head, which signified that Neil’s wife had made him something.

Go to lunch. Buy same sandwich from same shop. Eat sandwich at desk.

He actually did some work over lunch, finding a case that actually held his interest because it looked genuine. He looked it up, cross referenced it all over the archives and poked around on the internet before sending an e-mail to one of the girls a little higher up (still in the “dungeon” but still higher up) to tell them that he had worked out one of the cases and would send a report by the end of the day.

Make coffee.

He went over to the coffee machine and made some more coffee, praising caffeine and all things it came in.

His computer died half way through the report, but he was able to hit print just before doing so, meaning that he didn’t have to start over. This was the other reason he preferred doing everything by hand. He was less likely to have a meltdown resulting in loss of data. His computer was ancient, and it was beginning to show. Luckily for Ianto, there were tell tale signs before the machine puttered out, like a whining from the tower, and the mouse would stop working.

Repeat office gossip.

He told Neil about the girl from accounts, and Neil whooped. It was interesting, because things like that normally weren’t abnormal. Yvonne normally didn’t notice or if she did, didn’t care, so there was a bit of hype about why this one was so different from all the others.

He finished the report as Neil read out things from the interoffice messaging channel and they sniggered at it. There were some vivid imaginations in Torchwood. It was hilarious.

Bump into Boss in lift.

He left the office, report in hand to take it up stairs. It was a shock to find Yvonne in the same lift. What was she doing here?

Make small talk. Laugh at Boss’ unfunny joke.

That was an experience he never wanted to repeat. That woman was awful on so many levels. He went and handed in the report, taking the stairs on the way back down to avoid any more impromptu meetings with people who never normally came down this far into the building.

Check e-mail.

It was just his luck that the report was finished by hand just as his computer spluttered back to life, and his inbox was full of Spam again. And more damned porn. It wasn’t even good porn. Which was the insulting thing. If someone was going to sign him up for it, couldn’t they do a decent job of it and get the decent stuff? He deleted it all again, grumbling.

Make more coffee.

It was amazing how much of the stuff they went through. Couldn’t be good for the blood pressure, but then again, neither was this job. He wondered how many people had died from high blood pressure in this job. He might have to look it up, just for the sake of his own morbid curiosity.

Flirt with colleague.

Just as he was sitting back down, Lisa came in with one of his reports from the day before, asking about something. He wasn’t sure what, because he was too busy staring at her and wondering if he could come up with something clever to say that would make her smile. His vague attempts to seemed to make her smile, which was helpful.

She left the report on his desk and left, throwing him a wink as she did so, earning a wolf whistle from Neil.

Ask colleague out via e-mail.

It was a stupid idea really, but there was nothing for it. He wasn’t going up there. It was just a no.

Get no reply.

Hardly encouraging. Neil was trying to give him tips, but it wasn’t helping. They sounded like even worse ideas than the one’s he’d come up with on his own.

Sign leaving card for someone you don’t know.

This in itself was an interesting event. Normally people who left got Retconned, and everyone knew it, so leaving cards were kind of null and void, and a waste of time, because the receiver wouldn’t get it, or have any idea who it was from. When he checked this with Neil, he was told that the person was transferring to Torchwood Two in Glasgow. That explained everything. He signed the card, giving it back to Neil.

Shuffle more papers.

He browsed the file Lisa had given him, trying to remember what she had said was the matter with it, finding a note from her on the page in question, which was immensely helpful. How would he had worked it out without her?

Check e-mails. Still no reply from colleague.

It was silly of him really. Most people only looked at their e-mail once in the morning and once just after lunch, so it wasn’t really something that he was likely to get a reply to today. He wished Lisa was one of those people who did check their e-mail every hour or so, but she wasn’t.

Check watch.

So much time, so little to do.

Walk around with a piece of paper looking busy.

This was the “I’m Bored” signal. Neil knew it well and started throwing bits of scrap paper at him, trying to get him to stop it, even though he knew it would do nothing but make a mess that Ianto would clean up. But it would stop him being bored though, so in a sort of demented way, it was an effective solution to the problem, until he got bored again and Neil ran out of scrap paper.

Check e-mail.

Still nothing.

Check to see if Boss has left work.

He had a look on the interoffice messaging channel. There was a relay system. One of the secretaries would give a codeword in three consecutive sentences, which told anyone who was watching that Yvonne had left the building and that in a few minutes, the rest of them could pack up and go. It was quite late for Yvonne. Eight thirty. Normally she was gone by six at the latest. Maybe the jaunt down to the “dungeon” had made her run late. Who cared? He could go home! He poured some coffee into his travel mug and waved to Neil as he grabbed his coat.

Leave work. Get stuck in traffic.

He couldn’t believe the traffic at this time of night. Only in London. He’d never known anywhere else like it.

Get home. Make dinner. Watch rubbish T.V.

There was nothing on. There never was. Some soaps, which Ianto scoffed at and a few documentaries, but nothing that could hold his interest once he’d finished eating.

Yawn. Go to bed.

Sleep. Sleep was good

Repeat until weekend.

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Or that’s now it should have been. Only it wasn’t, because the very next day, there was a big disturbance in the Torchwood Tower. By the name of Captain Jack Harkness. He was Yvonne’s equal from Torchwood Three in Cardiff, and the havoc he reeked every time he entered Torchwood London was phenomenal, purely because of the fights he’s get into with Yvonne. He argued with her on every turn. Literally every single one. There was nothing they could agree on except their hatred for each other.

Ianto had only glimpsed him once, at a distance as he stormed through a door when Ianto was coming in from lunch, and he had been stunned. Jack Harkness was an enigma of a man, with a big billowing coat and a very self-assured stance and stride. Not to mention he was gorgeous. Ianto wasn’t normally that way inclined, but there was a distinct feeling that for this man, Ianto could make an exception.

He was rumoured to be a complete sex fiend. Half the women (and half the men too now he thought about it) had storied which surfaced whenever the Captain appeared of the flirtation and the innuendo which dripped from the Captain’s every word.

Ianto was not so lucky normally, as he was so deep underground, but today, was his lucky day. The Captain wanted something from the archives and Yvonne wouldn’t give it to him, so he was going to just go and get it himself, with the help of some rebellious member of staff.

Ianto, it seemed, was his choice.

“Hi there. Captain Jack Harkness. I need a hand finding something in the archives. I was told I could find a willing volunteer here. Any takers?”

Ianto’s jaw dropped. That smile! He was just gobsmackingly gorgeous, even more so up close. And he smelled good too. Really good. Nice aftershave.


It was surreal. How could this man be standing here? He stood, motioning for Captain Harkness to follow him.

“What was it you were looking for sir?”

“Ooh! You’re not local! A Welshman. Love that accent. Very nice. And I was looking for a sonic binary coded rift predictor, but can I take you home instead?”

There was a leer, and the man was too close. His hands brushed Ianto’s sides from behind, and he nearly jumped. He led the way to the correct part of the archives, unsure of what the correct answer to that question was.

He handed the Captain the equipment he’d come for.

“You,” he said, leaning close to Ianto, cupping his hand along Ianto’s jaw, “have just saved me a heck of a lot of bother. Thank you.” He brushed his thumb over Ianto’s bottom lip, tipped him a wink, then turned, walking away.

Ianto slid down the shelving unit. That was…different. A day to remember, rather than another of the same he wanted to forget.

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I wrote this when I was really just kinda dead. I got four hours sleep, due to being unable to get back to sleep when my sister coughed her guts up at half three this morning. May go back to bed now. Not sure I like some of it, but never mind. It’s as good as its ever going to get.

Title: How about Truth or Dare
Summary: Eve’s big idea.
Pairings: David Tennant and John Barrowman primarily. Though in this case that doesn’t actually mean anything.
A/N: this is the prequel to “Oh Bollocks” which I posted like two weeks ago…

Links to my other fics in this series:
I'll show you fucking intimidated:
http://newra-skylarke.livejournal.com/2471.html
Barrowman I swear if you do that one more time:
http://newra-skylarke.livejournal.com/3152.html
Oh Bollocks:
http://newra-skylarke.livejournal.com/4650.html

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“Ok. I never… sat inside a Dalek prop to listen to gossip.” Freema said, laughing hard as David, John and Billie drank.

“Oh Christ, what did you hear?” Catherine asked, sitting up with interest.

“I had heard some that some interesting rumours about me were flying around, so I kicked someone out of their Dalek for a bit to find out what they were,” David answered, sniggering slightly.

“And we were in the Daleks either side for the same reason, because he knew we would want to know, and we knew he’d refuse to tell us.” John replied, laughing as his Scottish accent took over from listening to David talk.

“What were the rumours?” Scott asked, smirking.

“Sordid details about my interactions with you and John apparently. Also, Gareth was thinking about asking if he could join in next time, because he thought you were cute.” David replied, smirking at the now bright red Welshman, who did nothing to deny it.

All eyes turned on Gareth, who tried to avert his eyes, and brought his glass up in front of his face.

“I think we should change the game,” said John, his eyes glinting. “I think truth or dare.”

Gareth visibly gulped. This could not go well.

“I think that’s a good idea,” replied Catherine, “But I might have to sit this one out, because I don’t think I can handle anymore alcohol, and there are so many things I’m not telling you people, and even more I’m not doing.”

“I think all the girls should sit out,” Billie chipped in. “Boy’s only game.”

The boys raised their eyebrows, looking to each other. Gareth was the only one not to respond, as he continued to try to hide behind his glass.

“I think the girls have to play, because they come up with half the good questions!” David declared, “we can think up a different forfeit for those who don’t want to be cleaning their vomit of my carpet in the morning!” He took another sip of his own drink and swayed slightly.

“Come on! Please?” John threw his best puppy-eyed look. It could get Russell to agree to a lot of things, so maybe it would work on the girls. Freema rolled her eyes and refused to look at him, Billie giggled, and Catherine looked at him like a bull looks at an oncoming train. She wasn’t going to budge.

He prodded David, who also threw the kicked puppy look the fans all loved him for, because it made them want to hug him. Freema caved under the pressure of the duo’s gazes, and raised her hands in defeat. Billie just giggled more and Catherine smirked a little, still not budging.

“You know girls, you won’t find out any gossip at all if you don’t offer some up,” Scott said cunningly, swirling his drink a little.

Billie looked up. “You mean there are things we still don’t know?” she looked shocked.

“Oh yes. Lots.” Scott replied, smirking slightly and giving her a wink.

“Ok, I’m in.” Billie decided, looking at Catherine, who seemed unphased.

“I’ve heard about your games. They generally end up being unsavoury.

“Come one! Where’s your sense of adventure!” David exclaimed.

“I’ve spent hours at a time with you in a prop box. More than enough adventure for me thank you.” Catherine snarked, causing some of the others to giggle. David was well known for his dislike of the prop box, and also well known for voicing his displeasure. Often. And continuously.

“You can’t tell me there aren’t things you want to know.” John intoned, laughing a little.

“There are lots of things many people want to know, doesn’t mean the thousands of fan-girls get to find out you shagged David into his own sofa.”

“That’s cause there would be uproar. The Doctor? With all his female companions? Shacking up with intergalactic sex fiend Captain Jack Harkness?” John replied.

“There are many fans who would die to here that. Have you not seen the “Who Porn”?

“No, and I don’t want him to!” Scott interjected quickly. “He gets enough lewd ideas as it is, I don’t need a him finding out what the fans think he should be doing in his spare time.”

Catherine sighed. “Fine. But I’m not drinking. So what’s my forfeit if I don’t want to answer or do something?”

“We’ll think of something when we hit that problem.” David replied.

“Now… Gareth. I think as you prompted the game change you have to go first. Truth or Dare?” John asked, his eyes glinting. Whatever Gareth said, he was going to get something out of him.

Gareth seemed struck by indecision. “Truth,” he winced as he spoke, clearly not wanting to do either, and unsure as to whether or not he had chosen the lesser of two evils.

“Are the rumours true? The ones about you wanting to join in.” John asked.

Gareth mumbled something unintelligible, bowing his head as the blush crept further up his cheeks.

“Pardon? What was that? I didn’t hear you,” Freema giggled, moving her head closer to him.

“Yes!” Gareth exclaimed exasperatedly, clapping his hand over his mouth at the volume.

John and David whooped. They’d been trying to draw this information out of him for weeks. The girls wolf whistled and Scott threw Gareth a wink. Gareth flushed more, trying not to look as mortified as he felt. Now that was out, there were going to be problems.

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After an hour of play, the dares were getting more and more silly for the girls, and more and more lurid for the boys. Scott had been dragged into every one of Gareth’s dares, and Gareth had been dragged into every one of Scott’s. Catherine’s forfeit had been decided as a rendition of the “Hey Ryan, you’re so fine!” cheerleading routine she had done once for her show. She was loath to repeat it, but it caused waves of giggles from the others every time, and they refused to consider changing it.

“Ok. It’s time for the group dare.” David decided.

“I’ve got one. The ultimate group dare.”

Everyone turned to look at Eve. David and John spared each other a glance. They knew what was coming. Everyone was very drunk, Eve included. So the dares had been getting braver. But this was going to top them all.

Then the quotes came out. Burn wasn’t present, but Eve stole his old line in memory.

“Lets all have sex.” She mimicked everything from facial expression to tone and accent, sending the others into peals of laughter.

“And I thought the end of the world couldn’t get any worse,” Gareth intoned, trying to keep a straight face.

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It’s not as detailed as I think I initially intended it to be. But that is because I can’t write women. At all. Men getting it on I can do, but I can’t write women for shit. Never goes well, so lets just leave it there!

Feed the Plot Bunny!

Title: Character development or Actors ‘thing’?
Pairing: John Barrowman/David Tennant
Summary: John questions David over the Doctor’s character traits.
Rating: odd for me to be this safe but Pg- 13
Disclaimer: If I owned them, Barrowman would so not be gay. Bi, yes. Gay, no. As he is, what does that tell you?

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John rapped his knuckles on David’s apartment door, pausing a second before trying the handle. Locked. He’d thought as much, given the lack of loud music vibrating through his floor, but it was good to check. He shrugged. No matter.

He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and flicked through his phonebook until he found David’s number. He hit the call button and waited as it rang. He heard a click, followed by David’s Scottish drawl.

“This is Ten-Inch Tennant speaking, how can help you?”

John grinned. It was a long-standing joke between them, ever since Billie’s announcement of the now famous nickname. John had taken to requesting David this way if anyone else was to answer the phone, (which caused a substantial stir when it was David’s paranoid girlfriend who answered while David was in the loo), so now when ever John rang, that was how he was greeted; with David sounding a bit like a call-girl to a potential client.

“Well. I have a question for you.” John smirked, leaning against David’s door, his American accent slipping at the sound of David’s voice. It was what made acting with the man so hard, because he couldn’t keep the right accent unless he got David to talk to him with an English accent before the shoot, something that David delighted in refusing to do, because it made for great outtakes when John screwed up.

“Oh?” David sound nonchalant.

“I’ve just had my youngest nephew over for the weekend.” He paused.

“Hmm?”

“And he made me sit through the Goblet of Fire.” Another pause.

“Yeah?” David sounded a little less carefree.

“With your portrayal of Barty Crouch Jr.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“I had a thought while watching you.”

“Oh God. With the content of your head do I really want to know what that thought was?” David laughed.

“Bugger off you!” John said good-naturedly. “Anyway. I was watching you do that odd little tongue flicking thing – ”

“I’m not giving you head John.”

John sniggered. “That’s a good idea, but it wasn’t it.” David’s surprise was evident from the odd noise he made on the other end of the phone. “Now, in Doctor Who, your Doctor has a habit of licking and tasting stuff.”

“I fail to see where this is going? Am I stereotyping your general approach to your phone calls or is this sex related?”

“Maybe. Do you want it to be?” John put on a seductive edge to his voice.

David snorted at the other end.

“Anyway. I was wondering, given the similarity of these two characters in relation to these particular character traits, is it the Doctor who has the Oral fixation, as all the fans believe, or is it you?”

David laughed loudly. “Oh my,” he gasped, “only you could come up with that.”

John grinned. “So?”

“Why don’t you meet me at my flat in ten and find out?” David’s voice was sultry, making John’s cock twitch in his jeans, which were suddenly too tight.

“I’m already here,” he said, his voice a little rougher than before.

David practically purred down the phone. “So wait, my dashing Captain.”

The line went dead.

John would wait.

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Just a little something I noticed while writing another fic, with the Goblet of Fire playing in the background. Therefore, I had to write it.

What do you think? The Time Lord or the Actor?

Title: The consequences of being bad.
Summary: Jack makes a mental note to be bad more often.
Rating: Shameless porn.
Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Jack/Ten, Ten/Jack/Ianto, Ten/Ianto.
A/N: As requested!

Links to other parts:
I don’t think he’s wrong
http://newra-skylarke.livejournal.com/4284.html
I didn’t know, I swear!
http://newra-skylarke.livejournal.com/4887.html

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As far as Jack was concerned, the day was snailing by. The Doctor, for all his innocent exterior, could only be described as a cock tease. A term he normally reserved for Ianto, who was also falling into that category. The Doctor had been bending over to look at things on computers, or leaning on surfaces that were about his hip height, so he had to bend slightly. Both of these positions gave Jack an amazing view of the Doctor’s pinstriped ass, which the Doctor was flaunting. He’d even removed his coat and jacket for maximum effect. He kept throwing seductive glances Jack’s way whenever he caught the Captain staring at him. If he walked past him, he’d brush past him, and depending which side he passed on, would either grope his cock or his arse, meaning anything that Jack had been thinking or saying fly straight out of his head.

Jenny was being shown around by Gwen, interested in everything that she saw, bouncing around in a manner that showed just how much she was her father’s daughter.

Jack was brooding over some paperwork that Ianto had brought with his last cup of coffee. It was getting more and more difficult to concentrate on what was in front of him, which was saying something, given that getting Jack to do paperwork normally involved some sort of incentive at the end of it, like sex, or something kinky that he’d like. Either that or threatening to withhold things, like kisses, or coffee, or biscuits. Ianto was well versed in both tactics and employed them on a regular basis.

His favourite archivist had been roped into not only withhold privileges, but also to tease him, by the Doctor. Ianto was therefore cock tease number two. So far he’d been lured into a kiss that he never got, Ianto had gotten close and arched away again just as Jack reached for him. He’s also had to endure the Doctor and Ianto kissing in view of one of the cameras. The Doctor had zapped it with his screwdriver, so that the picture came up on Jack’s computer screen, and wouldn’t go away even when the plug was removed from the wall. So Jack had had to watch, awe struck and desperate to wank. He restrained himself; secretly enjoying the way the Doctor had command over him. Though he’d never admit it. He’d expected to be jealous of both of them for their interactions with each other, but actually, all he was jealous of was that he couldn’t be the one kissing them.

He was so frustrated. The Doctor had arrived at just gone half ten that morning, and while Jack could have sworn that it must be nearing five in the afternoon (he hoped so, because as it had been quiet he could send the team home early) he found to his dismay that it was only just gone two. Meaning there were at least three hours, Rift permitting before he could get rid of them.

Just as he thought this, the Rift alarm went off. Jack’s head hit his desk. Someone, somewhere, really didn’t like him. He banged his head a couple more times before dragging himself out of his chair and readjusting his trousers. Big mistake. He should have just left them and suffer to look like John Wayne when he walked. He walked over to the door and into the main part of the Hub.

“Ok, What have we got?” he asked, in what he hoped was his normal voice. Evidently not, as his whole team sniggered or tried very hard not to.

Ianto and the Doctor were stood very close together, Ianto leaning over Mickey’s desk to look at what ever was on the computer screen, and, supposedly due to the amount of people crowded around the desk, the Doctor was leaning over Ianto, mere millimetre’s from the Welshman’s body. They were aligned in such a way that the Doctors hips were pressed flush against Ianto’s suit clad ass. Jack growled low in his throat. Damned hot bastards.

“We got a big Rift spike in Splott,” Mickey replied.

“Splott?” the Doctor asked, “Who came up with that one?”

“It’s pronounced ‘splow’ by most estate agents,” Ianto quipped, “but Splott is more accurate. It’s not very pleasant and we get a lot of activity down there.”

Ianto moved back ever so slightly, bringing his back into contact with the Doctor’s chest. Jack fought down another growl.

“So what have we got then?” he asked, shifting a little in an effort to get his trousers to stop pressing against his cock. It didn’t work, it just made it worse.

“No idea. We don’t have anything on record which matches the energy patterns,” Mickey replied, “We’ll have to go look.”

That meant driving. Very difficult to do with this kind of hard-on. Unless he let Mickey or Ianto drive. Ianto didn’t like driving the SUV, he preferred to navigate and he didn’t know what Mickey’s driving was like. Oh well. One way to find out.

“Ok, lets go then. If it’s a big rift spike, then its probably very big, so we’ll all have to go.” He ducked into his office to grab his coat. When he came out, his team were bustling around getting ready to leave. The Doctor and Jenny were standing where they had been previously, with the obvious exception that the Doctor was not bent over Ianto any more. “Doc, you’re welcome to come, but short of sitting in the boot of the SUV you’re going to have to take your own transport,” he said as Ianto appeared at the Doctor’s elbow with the co-ordinates.

“Why don’t we all just take the Tardis?” the Doctor asked.

“Because we might need to bring something back in, and the Tardis won’t like it, the things we normally end up with smell bad.” He walked over so that he was stood in front of the Time Lord. “Aim for about ten minutes after you leave, that way we should get there for roughly the same time.”

He went to walk away, but the Doctor grabbed his shoulder and wheeled him around, kissing him very gently, then again, a little more persistently. Then a third time, slipping his fingers into Jack’s hair, making the Captain’s cock throb as the Doctor pressed close.

“Sorry,” the Doctor murmured, “seems like I can’t get enough of that.”

“Enough of what?” Jack queried.

“The taste of you,” the Doctor replied, kissing him again. “It’s addictive.”

“51st century pheromones.” Jack smirked.

“You do walk around enveloped in a cloud of them.” Another gentle, chaste kiss.

“At the moment, I blame you and Ianto. Mostly you. It’s more potent when I’m aroused. Normally I only have Ianto to blame.”

The Doctor pulled him in for another kiss. “I’ll have to get you to walk around in a cloud more often then won’t I.” He reached down to cup Jack. “Isn’t driving with that going to be difficult?”

“That’s why I’m not driving.”

The Doctor grinned. “Go get in the car, I’ll see you in ten minutes.” He kissed Jack deeply, plundering his mouth with his tongue, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away and walking towards the Tardis, picking up his jacket and coat as he passed.

Jack waited until the door had closed behind Jenny, who he could bet was going to start quizzing her dad about his relationship with Jack, before groaning loudly. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

Ianto stood behind him smirking. “It’s your own fault, sir. I took the liberty of sending the others to go and get the car.” He wrapped his arms around Jack, allowing the other man to lean back and rest his head on his shoulder.

“Doesn’t how he is with me bother you? I mean, I know he’s not exactly excluding you, but – ” he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

“Are you kidding?” Ianto sounded shocked, “he’s gorgeous Jack. I’d be wondering what was wrong if he wasn’t more to you than just something to flirt with. And my God is he a good kisser.” Ianto sounded slightly wistful.

“Good as me?” Jack looked up at him

“I wouldn’t say better, different,” Ianto replied, “and you can see how deeply he cares for you from the way he looks at you.” Ianto kissed the side of Jack’s head. “Come on. You can work out the logistics of you sordid affairs with staff and aliens in the car.” He pulled back and gave Jack a light tap on the arse to get him to start walking.

It was at that moment that the Tardis engines ground into action, and Jack realised that the Doctor had probably been watching the whole thing on a monitor in the console room. He shook his head and headed for the exit with Ianto.

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“That was foul,” Gwen said as they walked back into the Hub.

It had been truly disgusting. They had found the alien, a large wet looking, and slimy thing sitting in someone’s garden pond, which was far too small. According to the Doctor it was completely harmless, was called a smindle, and was a bit like a whale, but from a planet called Prila a few solar systems over.

While the Doctor had been explaining this, the smindle had chose that moment to sneeze. All over them. So now they were covered in whale snot, and the Doctor’s response had been, “Oh, you poor thing. Aren’t you feeling well?”

The others had been incredulous and Martha had quipped that only the Doctor could feel sorry for something that had just blown its nose on him.

The clean up had been messy and taken forever, because of the mess the smindle had made of the garden it was in, and the garden fence behind it. They’d had to ret-con half the street because the owner of the pond couldn’t keep her mouth shut, and they had to get the smindle out of the pond, into a truck and into the nearest bit of sea. So now they were trouping back to the Hub, still covered in alien whale snot, for much needed showers.

As the team converged on the changing room, Jenny loitered, having taken her shower on the Tardis. Not that she had been that badly off anyway, given that she had managed to duck behind the Tardis (which hadn’t been at all impressed about being splattered with whale snot). She sat at Gwen’s station, flicking through a magazine.

The Doctor watched Jack amusedly as the Captain complained incessantly about the amount of slime on his coat. Ianto was giving bags to the girls so they could put their dirty clothes in it, and took a few into the men’s changing room.

Only Mickey was making no move towards the showers. He had placed a bin liner over his chair and was playing a computer game.

“Not showering?” the Doctor asked.

“Not while those two are in there,” Mickey snorted, “Last time I made that mistake I was traumatised for life.”

The Doctor smirked. He knew Jack had exhibitionist tendencies, and wouldn’t have cared one iota, though he would have thought Ianto would have been different. When he’d kissed the Doctor on the CCTV, which had been for Jack’s benefit, and it had been blocked to the rest of the team. Maybe the boy had a bigger kink. Or maybe he’d been too far-gone to care.

“You can use the Tardis bathroom if you want,” he said, tossing Mickey the (slime coated (how had it gotten into that pocket?)) key.

Mickey smiled, muttered “good luck to you!” as he walked towards the big blue box.

The Doctor walked towards the changing room and showers, starting as he realised the suit he’d hung on a rail outside the Tardis wasn’t where he left it.

“I took it into the changing room for you, sir.” Ianto said, walking towards him. “Jack’s trying to get things out of his coat pockets without them getting covered in slime.”

They found Jack sitting on a bench doing exactly that. He had a small pile growing next to him, from his wrist strap (slightly further away as it dud have snot on it) to the tube of lube from his trouser pocket (and the other one from his coat pocket). The Doctor and Ianto smirked. He could finish that later.

The Doctor shucked out of his own coat, draping it over a bench. Jack paused as the brown coat entered his line of vision. He looked up to see the Doctor and Ianto watching him, smirks gracing their features as they glanced quickly at each other. Uh oh.

His gaze was locked on them as they checked each other’s movements out of the corner of their eyes as they began to strip in unison, each man drawing Jack’s eye.

The Doctor divested himself of his jacket, followed swiftly by his tie, which he looped around Jack’s neck and used to pull Jack into a soul-searching kiss. His tongue slipped into his mouth, dominating him completely. Jack’s eyes fluttered closed as the Doctor kissed him. They snapped open again as he felt Ianto press against his back, slender arms wrapping around his waist.

The Doctor pulled back just slightly and began to undo the buttons on his shirt, revealing his skin to Jack and Ianto, inch by inch. At this, his tormentors fell out of sink as Ianto paused to watch the Doctor appreciatively, his hands wandering slightly over the Captain’s torso.

Even when covered in slimy alien whale snot the Time Lord was gorgeous, and he knew it. He threw them both a sultry glance as he let the shirt fall to the floor, before reaching behind Jack to pull Ianto into a kiss, Jack still sandwiched between them. This was unbelievably hot. It was one thing to fantasize about this (minus slime) and quite another to be stood here between the two men in his life he wanted more than life itself.

“Oh I can see why he likes you Ianto. Such good taste Captain,” the Doctor said, smirking as he pulled away from a rather breathless Ianto.

Jack felt Ianto tilting his head back, and then Ianto’s lips against his. He groaned as the combined taste of the young Welshman and the Doctor hit him.

Jack groaned into Ianto’s mouth as the Doctor started undressing him, slipping his braces over his shoulders and deftly undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“So many layers Captain,” he pouted.

Ianto broke the kiss. “I’m always telling him that, he never listens.”

“You love it really,” Jack gasped as the Doctor slipped his shirt off, before sliding his hands up under his t-shirt, which Ianto was pulling off.

He was slightly surprised when he felt Ianto’s bare chest against his back, and he briefly wondered when he’d taken his shirt off. The Doctor pressed against his front, and the dual sensations of hot and cold skin on his made all thought impossible. This was some sort of teasing effort to make him hornier than he already was. It was working.

He felt Ianto’s hands slide between him and the Doctor, undoing his belt and trousers, but making no move to touch his cock, which he was desperate for one of them to do.

“Please,” he murmured against the Doctor’s lips as the Time Lord ghosted his lips over Jack’s, gasping as Ianto cupped his hand around his cock, ignoring Jack’s pleas. He was still being punished, so only the Doctor could give him permission to touch Jack, but he knew he was allowed to touch the Doctor, so he did, making the older man groan with pleasure.

The Doctor returned the favour, slipping his hand into Ianto’s undone trousers, caressing the hard length he found there. Ianto moaned and pressed forward, pushing Jack closer to the Doctor. Jack whimpered.

“Please Doctor,” he whispered as the Doctor pushed his trousers over his hips with his free hand. His voice was near begging as the Doctor slid down his body, undoing his shoe laces and looking decidedly hot as he encourages Jack to lift one foot, then the other as he finished stripping him.

The snot-covered clothing was kicked to the side as he stood up. Jack’s eyes sought permission to touch the Doctor, as up ‘til now his hands had remained obediently at his sides. The Doctor shook his head, stepping away and taking Ianto’s hand and pulling him round Jack so they stood a little way away from the now quivering Captain. The Doctor smiled, kissing Ianto, threading his fingers into the Welshman’s hair as he slipped his tongue into his mouth. They heard jack groan and each man smiled through the kiss as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Ianto’s hands slipped beneath the waistband of the Doctor’s trousers as he ground his hips forward, pressing their erections together through the cloth.

Jack was dying. He was sure of it. They were killing him. His eyes were drawn to the wonderfully erotic sight of his lovers touching each other. He stood stock still, knowing this was his Doctor’s punishment it was. If this was what he got, he’d have to be bad more often. Much more often.

His jaw dropped as Ianto knelt down in front of the Doctor, freeing his cock from it’s cloth restraint, taking him deep into his throat. The Doctor groaned, carding his fingers through Ianto’s hair as the young man drew back, teasing the head, before sliding back down. Ever resourceful, he managed to pull the Time Lord’s trousers and boxers down, undoing his shoe laces and getting him to lift his feet one at a time, even as he gave the Doctor what had to be the most amazing blow job he could have possibly received in his nine hundred and three years.

Jack became aware he was drooling as he watched them, his cock throbbing as the Doctor turned his desire filled eyes on him. He felt a gentle push on his mental barriers and opened up, letting the Doctor in.

He was hit with a rush of sensations. He could feel Ianto’s mouth on his own cock, Ianto’s hands on his hips holding him up and Ianto’s hair beneath his fingers.

He moaned, his knees buckling a little. The Doctor withdrew and pulled Ianto away. Ianto looked up at him questioningly. The Doctor didn’t need to speak as he glanced at Jack, who was shaking. Ianto grinned, standing up and shimmying swiftly out of his remaining clothing, tossing it to the side in a very un-Iantoish fashion.

“Come on Jack. Let’s get you cleaned up,” the Doctor murmured, kissing him gently.

Jack allowed himself to be lead into the shower, where Ianto already had the water running. As the spray hit his body he hissed, the warmth spreading through him as he relished in the two pairs of hands skimming over his body. As the random bits of slime slid away under their gentle caresses. The Doctor slid down in front of him, sliding his hands over the insides of Jack’s well-muscled thighs.

Ianto pressed against his back again, grinding his hard cock into Jack’s ass. Jack leaned into his embraces as the Doctor’s hands moved back up his legs. One of those long-fingered hands cupped his balls, while the other pushed his legs apart to give the Doctor better access.

He reached between Jack’s legs to grope Ianto, fondling his balls in much the same way he was Jack. Ianto moaned, pushing forward into the Captain more.

Jack cried out as the Doctor began to lick him. Not just his cock, but around it. Between his cock and his balls, behind his balls, his perineum, the little sensitive patch between groin and thigh, tasting him. Sometimes he thought it a little odd, but right now, Jack loved the Doctor’s oral fixation.

“Doc…” he moaned, keening as the Doctor flicked his tongue into the sensitive slit on the head experimentally, before lapping at the pre-cum glistening there. God this man was good. Jack looked down and stared appreciatively as the Doctor’s neck and back muscles flexed under the cascading water. It was hot.

The Doctor locked his gaze with Jack’s, “Not yet Captain,” he said gently, taking Jack’s cock deep into his throat, still touching Ianto from between Jack’s legs.

Ianto groaned, grinding his hips forward, tweaking the older man’s nipples gently, bringing a whine from the back of Jack’s throat as he dropped his head back onto Ianto’s shoulder.

“Oh my God,” Jack whimpered as his cock hit the back of the Time Lord’s throat. His mouth was cold, like the rest of him, and it was an amazing sensation, given the intense heat of Ianto’s body behind him, and the warmth of the water raining down on them. “Doctor…Doc, if you – if you keep this up I’m gonna – gonna c-come,” he stammered, gasping as he tried not to do exactly that as the Doctor began fingering his arse with slicked fingers. Where had he gotten the lube?

The Doctor pulled back, looking up at Jack. “No,” he ordered firmly, his eyes dark with desire. “Not yet. I’m not done with you.” His tone was dark and seductive, and Jack was compelled to obey the alien in front of him, knowing it was in his interest to do so.

He didn’t resume his ministrations on Jack’s cock, preferring to slick him up and watch the Captain’s wanton reactions to his expert touch. When he thought the Captain was getting too close, he pulled his fingers free, just teasing the rim of Jack’s entrance as the man whimpered at the lass. Ianto followed suit as the Doctor also withdrew is cool hand from its occupation around his cock.

He stood up, pulling Ianto into a deep kiss, full of promises, and then Jack, making sure that both men knew that this was far from over. He turned the shower off, pulling the two of them back out, leading them to one of the bench and turning to face them.

“How do you want to do this?”

Jack wasn’t sure who was being asked.

“Erm…”

“He’s in the middle?” Ianto confirmed, the Doctor nodded. “Then I can top or bottom. Don’t mind. Up to you. Your punishment.” He smirked.

“True,” the Doctor conceded as Ianto walked forward the few paces to where the Doctor was standing to whisper something in the Time Lord’s ear that Jack couldn’t hear. The Doctor grinned, and Ianto’s eyes glinted in a mischievous way that never failed to make Jack nervous. Particularly if it involved the words ‘sex’ and ‘punishment’ in the same context.

Ianto stepped round the Doctor to the bench, sitting on the end of it, and pulling Jack forward so he was between the young man’s legs. Jack placed his hands on Ianto’s shoulders, caressing the nape of his neck ever so gently. Ianto leaned up and pulled him into a kiss.

Then the Doctor pulled Jack away, kissing him fiercely, taking his breath away. Then he left Jack standing in his wake as he pounced on Ianto, pinning him to the bench, devouring him in a wild kiss that made Jack’s jaw drop.

Jack watched as Ianto reached behind his head for the tube of lube from Jack’s pocket and handed it to the Doctor. Jack’s brain ceased to function past one point.

The Doctor was going to fuck Ianto in front of him.

The Doctor seemed to catch this thought and grinned, murmuring something into Ianto’s ear, pushing the lube back into Ianto’s hand. Ianto’s cheeks had flushed a little, making Jack wonder what on Earth the Doctor had said to him. Ianto nodded shyly as the Doctor kissed him sweetly, before moving to stand behind Jack.

“Watch him,” he ordered, slipping one arm around his middle as two fingers began to tease Jack’s still slicked entrance.

He watched as Ianto squeezed some of the tube onto his fingers and spread his legs, giving the two men an excellent view as he began to tease his own entrance with a single finger. Jack looked at his expression; quietly shy from knowing he was being watched as he performed such an intimate act in front of them. He was biting his bottom lip lightly as he worked his puckered hole, like Jack would be if he were touching him. Teasing and gentle, but worth the wait.

As he slipped a single digit in, Jack groaned as the creamy expanse of Ianto’s throat was revealed to him, as the Welshman let his head fall back.

Definitely need to be punished more often. Must flirt with Jenny more! Jack thought, keening as the Doctor slid one long finger into Jack, mirroring Ianto’s actions. Jack bucked backwards into the hand as the Doctor began pushing his finger in and out. All three men’s breaths were quickening, and the Doctor drew a long moan from Jack’s throat as he nibbled a sensitive spot behind the Captain’s ear. Ianto slipped another finger in and the Time Lord copied him, scissoring his fingers inside Jack. Jack felt his knees buckle and was suddenly glad of the Doctor’s strong arm around his waist.

Ianto quickly inserted a third finger, moaning as he hit his own prostate again and again with every flick of his fingers. Jack was shaking bodily as his pleasure peaked, clutching the Doctor’s arm in an effort to stay upright, his eyes glued to the beautiful sight of the young man before him.

“Not yet Jack,” the Doctor crooned in his ear. At Jack’s soft whine he whispered “Soon, though. Soon.” He kept up Ianto’s relentless pace. “Ianto,” he warned.

Ianto pulled his head up to look at them, his eyes glazed with pleasure, his fingers still pumping in and out.

“Not yet,” the Doctor whispered. Ianto moaned, his cock straining.

“Doctor, please,” Jack gasped, unsure as to how much more he could handle.

The Doctor slid his fingers out and held Jack steady for a moment, just watching as Ianto continued to pleasure himself, peppering Jack’s shoulder with kisses and little licks as he practically drank the pheromones wafting off Jack’s body.

“Do you want him?” the Doctor whispered. “Do you want your cock in his tight little arse?”

Jack whimpered as the Doctor’s hand began to stroke his hard length, slicking him.

“Or do you want me to fuck you into oblivion while you watch him?” Jack had never known the Doctor to be profane, or dirty, or kinky. Ever. It was alluring and unbelievably sexy. Jack couldn’t believe he was being made to chose. The Doctor was making it profoundly difficult by grinding his long, hard shaft into the cleft of Jack’s buttocks.

“I could let you have us both Jack,” the Doctor murmured, stroking his hard length gently, “Hmm? Would you like that?”

“Yes!” Jack begged, trying to grind his hips forward and back at the same time.

The Doctor grinned, pushing Jack forward so he was back between Ianto’s legs. Ianto watched the movement, not stopping until the Doctor lined Jack’s cock up with his entrance.

“Go on Jack.”

Jack pushed forwards, leaning over Ianto as he sheathed himself in the archivist’s tight heat; the burn he got from the temperature change between the Doctor’s cold hands and Ianto’s hot body intense. Ianto was still tight, regardless of the numerous times that they had done this. They both groaned at the feeling, but Jack stayed still, waiting. He was swiftly rewarded as the Doctor slid home. Jack had almost forgotten just how much cock the Doctor had to boast about.

The Doctor paused. “Ready?” Jack nodded and Ianto managed to gasp a trembling “yes”. The Doctor drew out a little, angling his hips before slamming home. Jack jerked, crying out as the movement forced him deeper into Ianto, who clutched his shoulders, keening softly.

The Doctor kept a slow torturous pace, which Jack could feel him straining to keep up as he brushed over Jack’s sweet spot. Jack tried to prevent himself from coming, knowing he had to wait for the Doctor’s order. He angled his own hips to give Ianto the maximum pleasure, without loosing the intensity of the Doctor’s slow, steady thrusts.

“Doctor, if you don’t pick it up, I’m going to kill you,” Ianto cried, thrusting his hips up to meet Jack.

The Doctor chuckled against Jack’s back, a vibration that travelled through both of the humans beneath him, making them gasp and shudder beneath him. “Such a bossy bottom isn’t he.” He obliged, thrusting hard and fast and deep, sliding a hand between Jack and Ianto to grip the Welshman’s leaking shaft, pumping him in an off-rhythm, to counter his thrusts, making him cry out.

When he felt Ianto getting close, he thrust hard into Jack, bringing himself to the edge. “Come for me Jack.”

And Jack did, pushing into Ianto one more time as the Doctor continued to thrust, and came hard. His whole body clenched as he felt Ianto come underneath him. He clenched around the Doctor, who drove himself in, hitting Jack’s prostate one last time before coming.

Jack collapsed forward onto Ianto, trying not to be too heavy, but giving up swiftly. Ianto laughed a little, stroking Jack’s back gently.

“That’s it. I’m dead,” Jack mumbled into Ianto’s chest

“I think we broke him,” Ianto observed, smiling at the Doctor who leaned over Jack, his weight suspended on his arms.

“He’ll be fine in a minute,” the Time Lord replied, dropping a kiss onto Jack’s shoulder.

“I won’t,” came the exhausted reply.

“What? The great Captain Jack Harkness – ”

“ – has never been teased so much in his life,” Jack finished, trying to lift his weight off Ianto and failing miserably.

“Oh but you loved ever second of it,” Ianto admonished.

“Yup. I need to be bad more often,” Jack agreed, “But right now we’re all dirty again. I think a more platonic shower is required.”

“Never thought I’d hear that,” the Doctor said, pulling out, dipping down to lick some of the come that dribbled from Jack’s arse. Jack moaned. Ianto gasped.

“You’re making him hard again!” He clutched Jack again, shifting as Jack’s cock solidified inside him.

The Doctor paused, “Told you he’d be fine,” he said, before resuming his previous activities. Jack groaned, shifting his hips back a little. He whimpered at the sensation on his over sensitive cock.

The Doctor carried on licking until he seemed satisfied that Jack was clean and then moved back up over him, tilting his head back and kissing him, allowing the man to taste the Doctor’s come on his tongue. Ianto pushed his hips up, hard himself as Jack shifted inside him.

“I don’t think I’m up for round two,” Jack moaned.

The Doctor smiled, pulling Jack out of Ianto and guiding him to the floor, before proceeding to repeat the process of rimming the other man still lying on the bench. Ianto bucked underneath him. “Doctor!” he gasped, his hands clutching at the Time Lord’s wild hair.

The Doctor moved up and began to bring him off, using that talented tongue to bring the Welshman to completion. As Ianto melted into a pile of goo on the bench, the Doctor turned his attention to Jack who’s eyes flew wide as the Doctor went straight down on him, without so much as pausing to catch his breath.

As he came for a second time in quick succession, the Doctor pulled Ianto down to join them on the cool tiled floor, where they basked in each other’s soft caresses, breathing heavily.

After several minutes had passed, the Doctor broke the comfortable silence that had settled over them. “I believe someone said something about another shower?”

“Indeed,” Ianto sniggered, moving to stand and pulling the Doctor up, and then Jack.

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After showering and dressing (with a reasonably minimal amount of groping), the three left the changing room to find a very empty Hub. A note attatched to the Tardis Key, which was hanging from the door was written to “The Noisy Threesome” (to which Ianto flushed) in Martha’s neat script.

We’ve gone home and decided to leave you to it. Mfanwy fed and watered, as are downstairs inmates and Jenny gone with Martha for night. Have fun. Use time wisely! See you in the morning!

Team and Jenny

P.S. The changing rooms are not soundproof guys. We’ve talked about this! x x x x x

P.P.S. DON’’T MAKE A MESS!

“Oops,” said the Doctor cheerily. “What shall we do between now and then?”

Jack grinned. “I’m sure I can think of a few things.”

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There you are, sorry it took so long! I drafted it out on paper, got half way through typing it and then went on holiday for five days, and only just got my computer access back! Hope you enjoyed it! Feed the plot-bunnies!

 

Title: “Do you want it back?”

Pairing: 10/Jack

Summary: Jack offers the Doctor his hand back

Set: DWS3

A/N: inspired by an avatar I saw about a year ago. Unfortunately can’t give it any credit, as I have no idea who it belonged to. If anyone can tell me I will credit it. Drabble.

Beta: Boxers_of_a_God

 

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While Martha was chatting to Chan Tho, Jack and the Doctor faffed with the various bits of gumph Professor Yana was having issues with. Or at least the Doctor was. Jack was rooting through his rucksack.

 

“I can’t find it! It was really cool and you’d have loved it! I could have sworn I put it in here!” Jack exclaimed sulkily, rummaging some more. He had been searching for the better part of twenty minutes, searching for some piece of alien kit he wanted to show the Doctor, but it was being elusive.

 

Jack took the hand in a jar out of his bag to give him more rummaging room.

 

“I still think it’s creepy that you kept my hand in a jar.” The Doctor mumbled.

 

“Do you want it back?” Jack asked, pausing to look up.

 

The Doctor snorted. “Not after you’ve been alone with it.”

 

Jack grinned. “Never did that,” he said. “Would much rather wait for you, and get it first hand.”

 

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Yes that truly awful pun is intended… Then again puns are always awful, intended or not. Feedback is love. <3