Felix Tempts Jack Harkness - Part VI: Is this wise?

I've been keeping my biographer busy with research, so I apologize this took this crafty writer so long.  Here is her next chapter in this Torchwood fanfiction.  Enjoy!

Part VI – Is this wise?

And you make me talk

And you make me feel

And you make me show

What I'm trying to conceal

If I trust in you

Would you let me down?

Would you laugh at me

If I said I care for you?

Could you feel the same way too, I wanna know

The name of the game

·       Name of the Game, as sung by ABBA

Under normal circumstances, Ianto would be fully engaged in movie watching, the older the movie the better – the silents were his favourite.  But now was not that time.  Now, both of them were semi-dressed again and sitting in the living room.   Additionally, To Have and Have Not was on the tellie and just past the part where Lauren Bacall asks if Bogart knows how to use his lips.  That scene revealed the heat growing between the actors that would bloom into a happy marriage lasting until Bogart’s death.   Watching it now made Ianto a bit sad.  He’d wanted such passion between Lisa and him but it never got there.  And as Ianto thought about it more, he started to accept the possibility – no, the reality – that Lisa did not love him as he loved her.   And he wondered if she would have gone to the same lengths he had to save him from turning into a monster.

“Penny for your thoughts!” Jack asked.  He’d noted Ianto’s face and didn’t like it.  “You look like you’ve come to some unhappy conclusion.”

Ianto shook his head, dismissing the older man.  “No, eh, nothing,” he waved off.  “Right, cup of tea?”

“Sure, should we pause the movie?”

“That’s okay, I can hear from the kitchen.  I put a second screen and speakers in there a few months ago.”   Ianto stood up.  “Snacks?  My sister made me some fabulous,  They should still be fresh.”

“Sure,” said Jack.  “Are you and your sister close?”

“Do you mean does she know about Torchwood?  No, but otherwise we are close.  She’s married with a couple of kids.  I visit when I can.”  Ianto looked off longingly, wondering if he too would ever have a family.  “Visiting them is a nice change.”

Jack chuckled.  He recalled the families he had created over the decades, some successful, others not so much but each long gone and visits became awkward over time as folx aged and he did not.  Yet, Jack had forgotten how much he liked being married, despite its difficulties and struggles.  “Have you thought about having a family?  I mean, to hear Gwen and Reese . .  . well, that’s all they talk about when I go to their house for dinner.”  Jack wasn’t sure he should or could talk about that part of his past, especially after his last marriage – it was all so painful, and he’d done things for which there was no forgiveness – no coming back from.  Immortality just gave you more time to fuck up.

Ianto didn’t answer.  He was already in the kitchen wondering how he could convince Jack to return to bed and finish Ianto’s education.  Jack heard the young man moving around, the clink of items being loaded on a tray.  It took Felix to remind Jack why he should not get any crazy ideas.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Harkness!” sneered Ianto’s pet.  “You have little to offer other than your sex skills.  We both know this.”

Jack leaned into the animal who lay on a fluffy grey bed on the floor near Ianto’s recliner.  “Now you shut up, you scraggly feline!  I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you, Harkness?”  Felix sat up in the bed, looking imposing.  “I love that man, you know!”

“I love him too!” The words fell from Jack’s mouth before he could stop them.  He would have retracted it, but the creature would have known he was lying.  Nevertheless, saying it aloud stunned Jack.  “I’d never hurt him”, he whispered.

Felix came closer to him then said, “I know you wouldn’t hurt him intentionally – that lovemaking from before was not something out of a Tinder fling.”  The cat’s face was less accusatory as he was feeling sorry for Jack all of a sudden.  “Listen, I know you care for him.  I know you have kept it to yourself for quite some time.  I know you will protect him with your life, if necessary.  But, I also know that your lifestyle, your world is what kills those who love you.  The longer he is with you, the higher the risk . . .”

“I know,” growled Jack.  “Do you think I like this?”  He clinched his lips and sneered, “I’ve tried, I really have.  But . . . he follows me and his . . . smell . . . is intoxicating.”

“He says the same thing about you.  Do you know he sniffs your coat at night before going home?”

“So that’s why he always ‘straightens my office’ before he leaves.”

Felix turned twice and curled back into his bed.  He sighed, “I suppose then there is nothing I can do.  You’re both hooked.  Just promise me, promise me you’ll be good to him . . . good to him until the end.”

“I promise nothing will happen to him.  I will protect him, I said!”

“Jack Harkness,” the cat sighed again and closed his eyes, “I know you will protect him whatever way you can.  But Ianto Jones will die on your watch . . . it is the fate of everyone who tangles with you.  I just want you make sure Ianto knows until the end that you love him and will not forget him as you have the others.”

“What?  I have forgotten none of them.  Each one is like a deep scar on my heart!” groaned Jack.  “What do you know, you . . ,” but Ianto returned with a tray of tea and small white pastries.

“Are you two talking?  It would be nice if you got along,” said Ianto as he set the tray on the coffee table. “I mean, if you come by sometime again.”

Jack reached up and grabbed Ianto’s hand, palm-side up.  He looked deep into Ianto’s eyes before he kissed the sensitive skin at the pulse point.  “Ianto Jones, I plan to come here often.”  Jack waited for the image to reach Ianto’s cerebral cortex and for the shiver to roll down the man’s arm.  He waited a few heartbeats more to let sexual images float in the young man’s mind like an erotic dream on acid.  “However, right now, let’s have tea and some of these delightful treats.”  Now Ianto blushed then shook a little while serving Jack.

Jack noted how Felix shook his head like a strict schoolteacher.  He also knew that the disapproval pointed to Jack’s overreliance on sex and sexuality.  “Why do you serve me?  You’re a Dom by nature.  If anything I should be serving you.”  In the back of his mind, Jack wondered if he had anything to offer this man whose eyes betrayed his deepest feelings.  There was sexual curiosity along with care so intense, it stunned Jack and he wondered what he did to deserve it.

Ianto finished serving them both and returned to his recliner opposite Jack before answering.  “I’ve never thought of myself in such terms, but your suppositions have some merit.  However, there is much power in submission.  Someone once told me that it is the sub who controls the relationship.  By serving you, I make you dependent on me – ‘need’ has a strong allure and service can be very intimate.”

“Sounds like an advert for Downton Abbey!” Jack teased.  It reminded him of something Angelo would say –a statement that was erotic and sensible at the same time.  They both fell silent and found themselves awkwardly staring inside their cups, unable to determine next steps. 

Ianto summoned up the bravery to speak first, “Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s take the tea into the bedroom.”

Jack smiled sheepishly then replied, “Yes, that sounds like a good idea, Ianto Jones.”

They brought their nervousness with them.  They sat next to each other in the bed, as if locking eyes would cause the next tear in the rift.  Instead both studed the saltwater fish tank across the room.  Jack couldn’t help but think of how that was just so Ianto – every imaginable gadget and formula to have a colony of aquatic life swim one way and back again like a meme.  And for some reason, this made Jack smile for he found the idea of it “How do you British say it, ‘brilliant’?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.  I’m Welsh.” 

Jack looked at him queerly which led both of them to break out in laughter and made moving forward less daunting.  Ianto kissed Jack tentatively at the corner of his mouth, almost like what your Nana gave you when the family came for holiday.  But for Jack it was searing like a steak touching a hot cast iron pan.  Jack closed his eyes and let go, releasing all his fears about the future and the guilt from the past.  Jack turned his body toward him, cupped Ianto’s face and pushed his tongue inside the other man’s mouth.  He was rewarded with a deep satisfying groan. 

Suddenly, Ianto pulled back.  He looked at Jack then said, “Be gentle with me.”

Jack offered one of his famous sidelong glances.  “Are you kidding me?” he said as Ianto got up to straddle Jack’s legs.  “I’m afraid I’m the prey here!”

Ianto removed Jack’s undershirt.  He returned to slowly caressing Jack’s chest.  He liked the goosebumps this was creating.  Jack’s skin felt alive, like each cell was a cornel of popcorn and Ianto’s hand was the heating element – pop, pop, pop.  When he raised his pointer finger and traced Jack’s lips, Jack let it happen, breathing deeper to control his growing arousal.  “Amazing,” slipped from Ianto’s mouth.  Ianto took Jack’s wrists and crossed them over his head.  He pressed them firmly against the wall, and instructed, “Keep them here.”   

Ianto had that strict schoolteacher voice down.  The baritone flair made Jack grin but held back as such was an inappropriate reaction in such circumstances – just plain bad form.  “Yes, . . . sir?”

“Yes is enough,” Ianto confirmed.  But now what?   Ianto had never gotten much farther than this in his fantasies.  Usually, he’d blown his load by this point.  At least once a day, especially during the work week, he had to wank off about Jack  – preferably in the shower before dressing for work (to get him through the day otherwise he’d spend all the day trying to hide his erratic erection) and before bed (Ianto did this on the couch; he didn’t know why).  Then he had an idea.  He bounced up, finished removing his clothes then said, “Get up.  Finish undressing and get up.”  He moved frantically and didn’t know why Jack didn’t understand the urgency of the moment.  Then Ianto realized that Jack was staring at him; no, Jack was admiring him or, more accurately, admiring Ianto’s body.  It was as if Jack saw something that Ianto couldn’t.  No one looked at me with desire before, not even . . . what’s her name? was inside Ianto’s thought bubble.  He realized then that he’d reflectively grabbed his cock, stroking it distracted as if its pleasure in it all was superfluous. 

Jack noted Ianto’s hand slowly moving up and down his red beast.  He didn’t move his arms despite an ache to reach out and put that tasty lollipop in his mouth.  But Jack held back, determined to help this man walk through the door and explore who he was.  “Should I release my own wrists?”

“What?  Oh, right.”  He walked over and leaned in front of Jack, then acted like he was removing the binding.  Unfortunately, Ianto didn’t initially realize the disturbance he was causing Jack until he watched Jack’s eyes move back and forth as Ianto’s prick swung like a pendulum in front of the seated man’s nose.  “Oh, terribly sorry,” he said while quickly getting back off the bed and covering his jewels with his hands.

“Doms never apologize.  They only adjust direction.”  Jack got up to follow orders.  He discharged his clothes on the floor and while Ianto was diverted by that mess, Jack added, “You are beautiful, and I can’t wait for you to sink that rock hard pole in my ass.  But I think a high-back chair would work better this first time.”

Ianto grabbed a wayward towel from the bed then followed Jack back to the living room.  “What do you mean?”

Jack looked around and chose a dark brown chair near the window.  He started to sit when Ianto jolted forward and dropped the towel on the seat just before Jack’s ball sack hit the cushion.  “Are you sure this is such a good idea?”

“What?” asked Jack, his hands dramatizing his question. 

“I don’t think my neighbours need to see this,” Ianto replied.  He walked over to the picture frame window and lifted a switch.  “Several seniors are living across the street and I don’t want to be the cause of their demise,” Ianto added as the vertical blinds closed.

“Are you sure they wouldn’t be taking notes?”

Ianto shook his head then checked that the binds were secure.  “Get up,” he said in a slight growl.  

Jack sensed that the young man was no longer joking.  He stood up and watched Ianto take his place in the chair, leaning back a bit to push his waist forward.  He took a hold of his cock again, this time with mindfulness, as if it was a holy offering.  “Didn’t you say something about riding this?”

“Oh yes, that I did!

Felix Tempts Jack Harkness - Part V: Something like Relief

 

This happens every time I try to mix

Decision making with one too many drinks

But ooh, if late night friends have consequences, cool, yeah

-          Side Effects, as sung by The Chainsmokers

They lay on the top of the bedsheets French kissing for quite some time.  Jack’s tongue in Ianto’s mouth set off sparkles all over the young man’s body, in places he didn’t know could get excited.  Ianto bit Jack’s lower lip, tugging at it and getting a low groan for his efforts.  Then Ianto went back to rubbing tongues, wrestling inside of Jack’s mouth like an Olympic event.  But kissing wasn’t enough.  Ianto wanted more but just couldn’t put his finger on what more looked like.  He pulled back a bit, enough to allow his left hand to run his fingers along Jack’s shoulders.  The older man’s skin was firm, everything fitting around muscle and bone.  The lack of curves was not strange but a wonder.  Ianto then ran his pointer finger around Jack’s pecks, occasionally stopping at a nipple, where he drew circles until it stood up like a beacon off Cardiff Bay.

Jack was right - Ianto did like to be on top, which Ianto found strange but terribly powerful.  It was like intimately touching this male’s body awakened something new inside Ianto.  When he was with Lisa, she usually took the lead, decided on what and how stuff would happen.  This was okay, as he loved her.  But in the back of his mind, each time they slept together, Ianto had to admit, he wanted to assert himself – ask, no demand, what he wanted.  And here was Jack Harkness, surprisingly relaxed into the bed, allowing Ianto to have free rein. 

“Stop thinking about it and just do what feels good,” Jack said to disrupt the other man’s drift into unanswerable questions.

Ianto mumbled, “It’s amazing.  Everything here feels good.”  He caught Jack’s eyes and got enough guts to ask, “Can I just . . . just touch you, for a while?”

Jack chuckled, “Sure, just don’t take long”.  Those fingers of yours feel fantastic and well, are quite welcomed.  “Lately it has been ‘wham-bam-thank you ma’am’.  It’s been a while since someone was . . ..”  Ianto cocked his head with a question about to escape his lips but Jack reached up and pulled the other man’s mouth to his for a quick hot kiss. 

But Ianto Jones was not deterred.  When they finally came up for air, he continued, “Really?  I thought you liked it that way.”

Jack had done a better job than he thought hiding his loneliness.  Ianto had no idea how much Jack had been holding back.  Jack did not want the handsome Welshman to drown in messiness.  The crap with Lisa not only bothered Jack in terms of how it endangered the entire planet but also how jealous he felt when he learned there was someone else in Ianto’s life, someone Ianto was willing to risk it all for.  And out of admiration for his brave loyalty and growing empathy as he watched Ianto’s face fall into despair as his hopes died that Jack realized that he was, again, in love.  “Even the biggest sluts like some genuine attention once in a while!”

“I suppose as I’ve never thought much on the subject.”  Ianto started to ask something else but Jack was in no mood for psychological probing.“Enough!” he commanded.  “Lesson one of male sex – fuck now, talk later, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“There could be more fucking, eh?”  Jack smiled devilishly.  Ianto returned with a blush but his newfound freedom was suddenly empowering.  Ianto looked at Jack with questioning eyes as he moved his hand down Jack’s front, stopping before touching the naughty bits.  “Yes, Ianto Jones, I consent to you touching my cock. As a matter of fact, you can caress, tung, kiss, lick, or swallow my cock all you want for as long as you want tonight.”

Ianto abruptly sat up and grabbed a tablet from the side table.  He hit a few spaces and the room transformed.  The bedroom’s shades darkened and blocked all light from outside.  An alien moon scene replaced the plain white shades.  Next, small lights twinkled in the ceiling, just below the moulding and mimicking a clear night at the beach.  The playlist changed too – modern blues and jazz now.  “This okay?” Ianto asked when he returned to Jack.

“Oh my, do you masturbate to this?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Jack chuckled, “Because it is so YOU.”  He realized that his companion wasn’t amused by the remark.  So, he put his hand on Ianto’s stomach and said, “I mean, I always wondered if this would be how you’d do it . . . if you were fantasizing about seducing me.”  Now it was time for Jack to blush.  “The only thing I got wrong was the curtains – nice touch.”  He smiled at Ianto, trying to convince him of his honesty.

Then Ianto sighed, “I had imagined it would be sweatier than this.”

Jack chuckled again then looked into the other man’s eyes.  He reached between them and touch Ianto’s dick.  Although they had been kissing and touching with their hands, everything had been above the waist.  Jack was ready and thought he’d better give his newbie some guidance otherwise it would be a wasted evening.  The dick was semi-hard and slightly slick in Jack’s hand.  He didn’t so much as rub as he examined it, his fingers touching at various pressure points.  Jack had learned this practice from a yogi who claimed he could make a woman cum by touching her on the back of the head. 

Ianto abruptly sucked in a breath.  “What the . . .?” was all he could articulate.  “My cock is on fire!”

“Mmm,” Jack whispered toward him, “well, I do have a way to quench those pesky flames.”

He would have said more but Ianto started sucking on Jack’s tongue.  The Time Agent nearly lost it then and shook for a moment, as if a shocked by a chill.   He did some cleansing breaths when Ianto finally gave up his tongue and started shimmying his mouth down to Ianto’s hips.  He grasped the base of the young man’s dick firmly.  The red, now engorged hood, poked up several inches and offered a menacing shudder.  “Oh granddaddy, look how big you are!” Jack crooned before swallowing half of it into his mouth. 

Ianto had never felt something so intense, and he feared he cum too soon.  And there was at least one more thing he wanted to do before the night was over.  He tried to control his breathing as Jack expertly licked, tugged, and sucked on the head.  “Oh, g-d Jack!  This is amazing.  Is it always this fucking hot?”

That last question caught in Jack’s throat, making him pause for a moment.  He had to stop himself from promising that it would always be this way and that he’d then spend the rest of Ianto’s life, until the moment he died making him feel this good.  Jack wanted to make all sorts of promises that he knew he’d never fulfill. It was more likely Ianto would get killed as a result of being with Jack than the second statue on a wedding cake.  Jack talked himself back and away from that strain of thought.  Please him now, concentrate on pleasing him now, idiot! he kept saying to himself.

Ianto’s loud plea for release returned Jack to the matter at hand.  “Jack, please, it’s too much!”  Jack decided to let him come now as he was still young and likely to bounce back quickly.  Jack certainly hoped so as he felt his asshole pucker and ache.  “Jack!”

The more experienced man increased his speed and suction.  Ianto’s body became stiff then quivered uncontrollably as his cum shot violently into the back of Jack’s throat.  Just before unloading, Ianto grabbed Jack’s hair, bucked his hips and pushed Jack’s head down until it was past Jack’s tonsils.  Jack had to relax his jaw to make room for the other man’s girth and the waterfall of sperm slammed against the back of Jack’s throat. 

When Jack finally pulled off Ianto’s cock and looked up at him, Ianto’s face dripped with bliss.  “And yes, I know you’re wondering if Lisa would suck me off,” he remarked.  “She did but never with such expertise.”  Ianto was breathing heavy like he’d just ended a marathon.  He reached down and instinctively pulled his partner into an embrace.  Amidst his shivering and lightheadedness, Ianto found contentment he’d never experienced, although his dick was already prepping for round two. 

Jack rested his head on Ianto’s chest, feeling ever so empowered.  He liked that he was the one who put that happy look on Ianto’s face.  He knew he needed to take things slow though, not rush through the night.  He saw Felix trot past the bedroom door, trying to act as if he was casually passing by instead of ensuring his master was okay.

Felix sneered quietly and Jack felt judged but reminded himself that he had a reputation.  Jack Harkness was a dangerous man but wanted sincerely for that danger to never touch a hair on this man’s head.  Fuck, fuck, fuck, he said to himself.  “I’m doing it again!”

“Huh?” asked a somewhat sleepy Ianto Jones.

Jack realized he’d let that last bit out.  “Isn’t that Humphrey Bogart special on TCM International tonight?”

“How did you know that?” asked Ianto.  “How did you know I liked classic Hollywood movies?”

Jack sat up and looked down at the handsome man.  “I make it my business to know everything about my employees!”

TORCHWOOD: Felix Tempts Jack Part IV

 

Part IV – All In

I once kneeled in shaking thrill

I chase the memory of it still, of every chill

Chided by that silence in a hush sublime

Blind to the purpose of a heart divine

But you and I

Staring in the blackness at some distant star

The thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are

To the world and to the both of us

I confessed along and I was dreaming of

 

Some better love, but there's no better love

Beckons above me and there's no better love

Whatever has loved me, there's no better love

Darling, feel better love

Feel better love

-                      Better Love, as sung by Hoizer

“Felix!  Bad kitty!” The pet shook his head and went to lay on his bed by the heater in the living room.  But he glared at Jack with daggers, sneering a warning.  Ianto shook his head and gathered the dishes on the tray.  He added, “Right, c’mon now!  Jack saved your life too – let me take you home.  Let’s show just a bit of gratitude”.  Felix ground and turned his back on Jack.   “That’s a good kitty!” replied Ianto, who gave the feline some pets before taking the tray it to the kitchen.  He washed them out and put them in a waiting dishwasher.  Wiping his hands on a towel, Ianto returned to the living room.  Jack was downing another scotch when Ianto asked nonchalantly, “Right, so how do we start this?”  He tossed the towel on the table like a kid posing in front of the popular girl in class.  “Do we do this here or on the couch?”

Jack chuckled at the young man’s sudden assertiveness.  “Where would you like to be?  You’re in charge here.”  Ianto looked at him incredulously.  Jack smiled at him.  How was he going to help him see what was inside, just below the surface?  He wanted to unleash the untrained Dom he knew was inside Ianto, give it a way to bloom, and see where it led.  Plus, as the stir in his pants pointed to, Jack really wanted to see and taste what was beneath the suit.  “It is your flat after all.”

“You’re not making this easier, you know.”

“My apologies,” Jack stood up.  With the dining room table between them, he continued, “Let’s start from the beginning.”  Jack put his hands behind his back so Ianto wouldn’t see their shaking.  He’s right there, I could just reach for him, pull him in my arms, and . . . and . . . Jack’s thoughts trailed off as his dick quivered again.

Ianto cocked his head.  “You okay?”

This brought Jack back to reality and the task at hand.  “What do you like to do, I mean to start things off.”

“With a girl?”

“You’ve got a point.”  Jack paused and thought for a moment.  “Don’t you have gay friends?”

Ianto sat down, taking a chair that was nearer to Jack.  “Sure, in uni and at Torchwood One, the guy I worked with in the library . . . why?”  And why is my body betraying me, drawing me close to him?

“Guys do it opposite from girls.  Guys fuck first and fall in love later.  They meet up, size up, and quickly decide what’s going where on whom.  Simple and to the point.  It’s one of the reasons straight guys hate gay guys is that a straight guy has to at least buy a gal a McDonald’s Happy Meal if he hopes to spread her legs.”

“Right, that explains why you asked me what I wanted?”  Ianto thought, what do I want?  “Sounds so clinical.”

Jack shrugged.  “It can be but it doesn’t have to.”  He looked kindly at those pretty eyes.  “You think about me, Ianto?”

“Yes.”  That came out faster and more definitive than Ianto wanted to reveal. 

Jack got up and walked up to the seated man and whispered in his ear.  “When you think about me, what do you see?  Am I touching you or are you touching me?  What do you see me doing?  What do you want me to do?”

Ianto blushed and swallowed hard.  “Lots of kissing,” he whispered back with a voice that more like heavy breathing, longing starting to wash over him.  Now it was his dick that was becoming inflamed.

“Tongue?”

“Oh yes.”

“And what did you want to do?”

“Keep feeling that your body . . . body heat.  And that smell, to inhale your smell.”  Ianto stood up.  They faced one another like two cowboys squaring off.  Ianto’s hands started shaking now but this was a result of stopping himself from grabbing Jack by his shoulders and forcing him to his knees.

Where was this coming from?

“And that sound, I want to hear that sound.”

“What sound?”

Ianto swallowed hard and was barely able to get the words out.

It was going to all sound so dirty, he thought to himself.  He looked at his feet.  “Do you remember that time when you brought the barista back to the Hub?”

“That cute redhead from Starbucks?  Don’t tell me you watched us screwing!  I didn’t know you were even there, you sneaky boy!”

“I didn’t watch.  I have a moral compass.  But I couldn’t help but hear.  You were rather loud.”

“She was sweet, so sweet,” Jack remembered.  “Curious, what did I sound like that night?”

Ianto looked at his feet.  “You sounded . . . you sounded like how my workmate described it.  He said the feeling of being full, the strokes against the prostate filled you with gratitude.  He said if the anal was done right, you moaned like a three-year-old with their first taste of ice cream.  I heard that from you.  I couldn’t imagine what she did to you to get that sound but . . . “

“Ah, well, she’s transgender.  Magnificent cock and what an acrobat!  No wonder I was . . . making that sound.”

“I’d want to be the one who makes you make that sound.”

There it was, Ianto finally admitted at least his sexual feelings toward Jack.  It ran deeper; Ianto knew that but that was a step too far, at least for now.

For Jack’s part, he found himself feeling light-headed and couldn’t tell if it was the scotch or his ever-increasing hunger to feel this man’s skin, all of it.  He took Ianto’s hand.  If this was going to work, if Jack was going to give this man what he deserved, Ianto would have to take it.  Jack rolled his fingers around Ianto’s indicated consent.  “Why don’t we get in bed and kiss Ianto Jones?”

Ianto grinned sheepishly and escorted Jack to the bedroom.  “Spotify – Jazz playlist #6,” Ianto called out.  Charlie Parker blew his horn like he was giving it a massage.  Jack was impressed.  He knew Birdman well and wished he could use the TARDIS to take Ianto to see him live.  This was a side of Ianto that he didn’t know, and he wanted to know it.  And that last part was quite frightening.  To distract from the fear just below his throat,ack looked over and watched Ianto unbutton his shirt, back turned.  When he got to the jeans, Jack turned away, afraid he’d blow his load before things really heated up.

Ianto felt the same and faced away until he had his libido under control.  By the time Ianto turned around, he made up his mind to kiss Jack but once he gazed upon the other man’s nakedness his knees weakened.  “You’re stunning.”

Jack was truly moved.  He could taste the sincerity.  No one had talked to him with such affection, not since . . .,  “Thank you.”

Ianto came around the bed to touch Jack’s chest.  He had scars and one day Ianto would learn the stories surrounding them.  But right now, Ianto was loving the feel of Jack’s skin on his fingertips.  Each spot he touched left goose-pimples and Ianto liked being the one causing that.  Jack leaned close and Ianto kissed him, tentatively at first but once Jack offered his tongue, it was off to the races.

Before they fell onto the bed, Ianto wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner.

TORCHWOOD FANFICTION: Felix Tempts Jack Part III

 

Part III – Trepidation + Loneliness = a leap of faith

You remind me I live in a shell

Safe from the past and doin' okay but not very well

No jolts, no surprises, no crisis arises

My life goes along as it should

It's all very nice, but not very good

And I'm ready to take a chance again

Ready to put my love on the line with you

Been livin' with nothing to show for it

You get what you get when you go for it

And I'm ready to take a chance again with you

-          Ready to Take a Chance Again, as sung by Barry Manilow

Ianto’s flat was exactly as Jack had imagined, or is the word dreamed.  Slightly winding slightly dingy white walls and badly carpeted steps abruptly led to an immaculately painted door that opened to the smell of hardwood floors and sandalwood.  It was a nerd boy’s Shangri-La.  It was open-spaced, living room to the right and dining room to the near left.

“I’ll take your coat,” Ianto said as he showed Jack a felt-covered hanger.  “You can leave your shoes on the mat.”  Jack nodded – just like Ianto. 

The furniture was comfortable but spare – a three-person beige couch and two matching lounge chairs.  The book Ianto was reading before this misadventure started lay on a cedar coffee table, a green bookmark neatly poking out like a lonely dick at a 6th-grade dance party.  Once Jack had his shoes off he walked towards the dining room table wrapped against the nearby wall.  The table was heavy, tinted glass that matched the cabinet cut out which served as a wet bar.  Jack stopped at the bottle of Laphroaig.  It always fascinated Jack how the crew spent their enormous Torchwood salary.  Gwen and Reese were “saving for that dream house”; Tosh supported various family members; for Suzie, it was designer clothes and shoes; while Owen had every medical gadget known to man.  And now Ianto – creating a persona of an English gentleman.  He would correct me and say he was a Welsh gentleman.  “Sorry,” Jack said looking at the Glenlivet, “I didn’t know you were such a connoisseur.”

“Ah, yeah,” Ianto replied.  “I think we’ve both had enough to drink.  How about I put the kettle on?”

Jack chuckled, “Sure!  And a bit of seltzer, please? I’d hate to vomit all over your nice furniture!”  Ianto scurried into the kitchen, pushing aside the swinging wooden half doors.  Jack smiled watching the young man move which reminded him that he always liked how blue jeans made asses look yummy.  “Can we sit at the table?” he called out to Ianto.

“Sure,” Ianto said tentatively.  As he retrieved two cups from his white cabinets, Ianto wondered, in a slightly drunken haze, Is this how he seduces people?  Sitting at the table drinking British tea?  “Do you . . .?”  He stopped himself as he was a dutiful manservant and already knew what Jack liked in his tea – black with a bit of honey, just like his heart.  The kettle’s whistle brought him out of a haze and he was reoriented to the task at hand.  He prepared the tea on a tray then thought to add a snack and added a plate of brie and crackers.  When he came out, Jack was sitting at the table and had already started on his scotch. 

“I never drink tea alone,” Jack grinned.  “Please,” he pointed to the seat across from him, “We should talk . . . need to negotiate terms, consent if you will.”

Ianto sat down as instructed.  “I see you don’t dally . . . come right out with it.”  It wasn’t like he hadn’t anticipated this . . . that things would go here.  And his loneliness and nearly uncontrollable intrigue with Captain Jack Harkness led him to conclude that deep down he wanted to have sex with this man . . . right now, right here, ah shit.  “Since sleeping with you is a fait accompli,” he said with a firm tone he wasn’t certain was his voice, “I want to make something clear.”  He took a sip and straightened his back, “I am not experienced, by anyone’s measure.  More importantly, I’ve never . . . never slept with a man.”

“It’s not much difference,” Jack dismissed, taking a large gulp of the hot liquid.  “Lots of kissing . . . lots and lots of kissing . . . I like that part . . . like it a lot.  Did I ever tell you about that Alturnian I made out with that one time when I was doing an investigation in Inverness?  Nearly froze the top of my dick but what a lovely . . .”

“Yes sir,” Ianto interrupted, “your prowess is known throughout the galaxies.”

Jack stopped smiling and gave him an irritated look.  “Ianto, when are going to stop calling me ‘sir’ when you know your status in this relationship?  I mean really?” Jack took another sip, of the scotch this time.  He needed liquid courage if he was going to get this outright, “where some people are control freaks, you’re an aficionado.  You are no sub, baby.”

Ianto’s face was flush and hot, but he pushed on.  “What does that mean?  I am talking about . . . being present for you . . . I don’t know how to . . . ah, how to . . . how to pleasure you.” 

Ianto’s blush returned Jack’s smile which made Ianto shift in his seat.  “What do you want to do?”

Ianto thought for a moment.  “Watch you cum.”

It was Jack’s turn to blush.  “Brazen hussy!  Who knew that inside that suit was a heathen in training!”  They both laughed and when that died down everything got uncomfortable again.  The inside of an empty teacup was never so interesting.  Jack’s voice was a whisper, “Ianto, I’d never hurt you, sexually or otherwise.” 

“You damn right you won’t, Jack Harkness!” came Felix’s voice seemingly from out of nowhere.  Ianto wasn’t certain if his pet had just saved him from the worst mistake of his life or if this moment was part of some inescapable destiny.

Ianto Jones decided all this psychobabble rat wheel thinking wasn’t getting him laid.

TORCHWOOD: Felix Tempts Jack - Part II

 

Surprise, Surprise

You can build a mansion, but you just can't live in it

You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win

Some break the rules, and let you count the cost

The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost

-         No One is to Blame, by Howard Jones

Ianto emerged from his flat. He was excited and apprehensive at the same time, walking quickly and with some determination down the small street. The pub wasn’t far from his flat, but the harsh breeze and misty rain made him move a bit faster. Inside the pub were a fair number of Friday night post-workday folks. They had a few hours of drinking on him. He found an elevated two-top table that also offered a nice view of the street. Thus, he could evaluate folx who came in, note their appearance and thus whether or not he would strike up a conversation.  Who am I fooling? he thought to himself. A perky red-haired waitress came to the table and took his order – one shot of scotch and a pint along with a bag of crisps. If he wasn’t chatting up some cutie by the end of his first, no second pint, he’d go home, Ianto promised himself. He didn’t want to get so drunk that he would perform badly or forget what happened.

When the waitress brought over his drinks, she smiled broadly.  “Haven’t seen you here before”! she flirted.

Ah yes, a chance to practice! he thought. “I live around the corner. I saw this place about a week ago when I was walking my . . . dog.” He handed her a few bills then added, “Keep the change.”

She saw the denomination and her eyes lit up. “Wow, thanks!” She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Most folx around here are soooo cheap!” She smelled like sweet lilac and eagerness. “I’ll be right back with your crisps. You get a free bag with your order before 7.”  Never mind that it was already 7:23 pm. As he watched her walk back to the bar, he along with several other men (and two ladies as well) watched as her ass cheeks seemed to know it was showtime. 

Ah, competition! Ianto looked around more.  The pub was extra modern, with hanging plants dotting the window by his seat. The hardwood floor was clearly new and a bit slippery due to the excess waxing. The tall wood tables and booths were non-descript and the hanging pictures were stills of Cardiff scenery. The crowd was switching now with the just-off-work folx, were likely stumbling to the tube station two blocks away, the less inebriated supporting the bladdered.  That was fine for Ianto. That wasn’t his crowd.  But what is my crowd? Maybe I should be looking for friends instead of a one-night shag?

The waitress sauntered back, hips moving like they were pushing something out of the way.  Ianto noted that she was big breasted and petite. He like short, stocky girls – at least he thought he did. She dropped two bags of crisps on his table. “I hope you like these. This crowd has eaten us out of house and home tonight!” She locked eyes with him then added, “My name is Sandra, my friends call me Sandi.”

He blushed but responded immediately. “I’m Ianto, Ianto Jones.”  He thought to extend his hand but realized she had a tray in her hand.

Sandi looked to see if anyone was watching, then whispered, “I get off in an hour, if you’d like to chat a bit.”

Ianto couldn’t believe his luck – success on the first try.  The stars must be aligned, he thought. “I had planned to stay for at least another drink after this,” he looked at his watch then added, “And it is almost 8 . . .”

Sandi started to reply when a familiar figure dropped seemingly from space and interrupted with, “Ow, terribly sorry sweetie but he’s with me this evening!”  Jack Harkness offered one of his signature grins and asked, “But, if you play your cards right,” Jack put his arm around her waist and tugged, “you could make it a party of three.”

Sandi looked at him horrified at the proposition, “Ah sorry, but I didn’t know he was taken.” She gave Ianto a dirty look. “I take my men in singles.” She turned on her heel and walked back to the bar.

“You don’t know what you are missing!” Jack hollered back at her loud enough that a few patrons turned to look. Jack shrugged.

Ianto’s cheeks were flush and his mood shifted to irritation. “Really? I live around here you know!”

“Ah, afraid you’ll get a reputation?”

“Seriously?” Ianto sighed then downed his scotch. The last thing he needed tonight was work, “What’s up Jack? Has something come through the rift? You could have just phoned or texted my mobile. I thought you wanted me to take some time off – the salary budget line item and wanting to be more fiscally responsible I believe were your words.”

Jack took off his signature coat and tossed it on a ledge against the window. “Not work, not this time.” Suddenly, Jack realized he’d made it all the way here without a back story to explain his presence. “Listen Ianto, I am tired of the acrimony between us. I figured we could hash things out over a pint or two. Whaddya say?”

Ianto was trying to recover from Jack’s scent. Unlike Sandi, Ianto didn’t have the words to describe that alluring smell of the man that wasn’t like any other human he knew. It drew you in and stirred the groin. Ianto shifted in his stool then sighed again. “Sure. I guess this evening can’t get any weirder.”

Jack turned to wave to one of the waiters. A tall blond came over and took his drink order – a triple shot of vodka and a water. “Don’t want to drink too much. You could take advantage of my good nature.” Teasing Ianto was a habit he found terribly enjoyable and something that he’d engage in frequently before the whole Lisa thing.  Jack was falling back in quickly and this mad him a bit uneasy. He had a million reasons to leave this alone including the fact that Ianto was inexperienced, exposed, and Jack was an asshole who could only offer this fine human being a good fuck.  Jack had dated, hell even married, too many partners with the same fresh face and loyal heart. He just couldn’t take hurting another one particularly someone so sincere as Ianto Jones.  And yet, as in the past he was drawn to people with warm souls and fascinating vulnerabilities.  Thus, he couldn’t be mad at Ianto too long – never had, even when he pestered Jack into hiring him. He wondered how much of that was desperation to save his girlfriend and how much of it was . . . something different.  Jack tried to distract his mind from how nice the young man looked in his blue dress shirt and jeans but only then found himself envisioning Ianto naked and sweaty with . . .. The waiter returned with Jack’s drink order and Jack downed the vodka in a quick slurp.

“If you knock ‘em back like that, you’ll be drunk sooner than later. You won’t be able to drive the SUV back to the Hub.” Not that drink mattered as Jack was one of the most reckless drivers Ianto had ever seen. Ianto rubbed his cheeks, hoping to get the visible signs of fluster off his face.

Jack sat up and wondered to himself, What am I doing here and now that I’m here, what do I want to happen? Suddenly it was Jack who felt awkward. “Did I ever tell you about the time I was chasing a couple of renegade Oberhaberman’s?  Nasty creatures, with long, blue talons and horrible bad breath. That last part came from their regular consumption of what we call concrete.” His story relaxed them by taking the pressure off deciding why they were there - together.  Ianto liked Jack’s fantastical tales. They always had interesting characters from history or other worlds, places beyond where Ianto thought he’d ever see. It was like listening to someone tell a myth, but Ianto knew it was all real . . . well, likely everything but all of Jack’s heroics. Nevertheless, the young man found himself envisioning travelling the universe with this wilding, saving Earth, hell even the galaxy between bouts of . . . Ianto found himself wondering again how two men have sex.

A few hours went by and Ianto was up to four shots and feeling a bit giddy. Jack noticed the slight changes and wondered again if it was fair to entangle Ianto in the mess of Jack’s life. But Jack Harkness was not one to be distracted by some silly guilt trip. He watched Ianto’s hands as he shifted them on then off the table, representing the excitement he was feeling. At one point, their hands nearly touched, the sharp spark as if they’d just rolled in carpet. Ianto and Jack fell silent for a few moments, both looking out the window lost in their anxiety. 

Abruptly Jack asked, “I actually have a bottle of Glenlivet in the SUV. “Why don’t we go to your flat and see how much of a dent we can make in it?” He said it like they were two blokes hanging out.

They both knew it was more than that.

Ianto was flustered and his face turned red again. Jack found it charming and smiled at him which made things worse for Ianto. “You’ve never been to my place before.”

Jack realized he had had dinner at everyone’s flat, even Owen’s. But he’d never inserted himself when it came to Ianto. He wasn’t sure what he’d do until now – he was about to do something foolish. “Well, there is a first time for everything! Don’t worry if your place isn’t tidy. You know how I keep my pod area.”

“Yes, I do,” chuckled Ianto, recalling how he’d tried cleaning it before only to find it in the same condition the very next morning. “No, it isn’t that. It’s just, is this really proper? I mean a boss coming to your house intending on intoxication. I’m sure Torchwood has HR rules around that.”

Jack stood up and grabbed his coat. “Do we ever play by the rules, Ianto Jones?” He started to put the long coat on and Ianto got dizzy. Jack looked so hot with that coat on. Ianto had masturbated many nights to the thought of rubbing it all over his body, Jack’s smell plastered against his skin . . .   Jack turned to go but realized that Ianto hadn’t moved. “Well? The bottle won’t drink itself! You live around the corner from here, right?”

REMINDER - Torchwood Fanfiction and music from my biographer

 My biographer is a HUGE Torchwood fan and started writing via Torchwood fanfiction, specifically the relationship between Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones hoping to answer questions left open by the series.  These are enjoyable even if you have little knowledge or exposure to the original stories.  These are quick mmromances with lots of hot sex and a good amount of "ah shucks".   Yep, many of the stories have dogged edges they will give you a free example of her fabulous writing skills.

For access go to the FanFiction.net page and look for "HippyChick1964".

Also, the biographer is always reminding me to promote my Spotify playlist.  Here they are by story:

• Project Iceworm: a human marriage in three parts
• The Roswell Discrepancy: a human romance in three parts
• Deetz's blues, jazz, and classical playlist

Losing ANOTHER DAD – a remembrance of Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh

 

Sail on silver girl

Sail on by

Your time has come to shine

All your dreams are on their way

See how they shine

Oh, if you need a friend

I’m sailing right behind

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will ease your mind

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will ease your mind

 

-         “Bridge Over Troubled Waters,” as performed by Simon & Garfunkel

 

Note:  The “Sail on silver girl” refers to, according to Art Garfunkel, his wife who, like Angus, hated her grey hairs.  Garfunkel called her his “Silver Girl”.

*******************

Angus faced the full-length mirror and sighed.  “I don’t know Deetz.  It still looks loose,” he complained while alternating between tugging at his suit jacket’s shoulders then the sleeves.  “Maybe we should try the dark brown.”

I was standing behind him serving in my valet/husband role.

I lifted the jacket from the shoulders then placed it correctly on his body.  “You’re slouching.” I adjusted his body like a chiropractor on a mission.  He groaned when I readjusted the last vertebrae.

“That’s why it seems ill-fitted.”

Angus kept fidgeting, so I had to adjust it again.  After a few more back and forths, I gave up and just took it off him.  “You are determined to thwart my work.  Luckily, the funeral isn’t until Saturday.”  I hung the offending item on a hanger and carefully laid it atop the matching trousers across our unmade bed.  I looked down at the formal black suit with its gold medals and pins, remnants of appreciation from the Crown to Reese ancestors.  The oldest ones were for valour in battle.  The more recent ones were for saving the Commonwealth from everything from aliens to recessions.  Lots of MPs representing stressed communities in and around London turned to the Reese piggybank many times behind Margret Thatcher’s back.  At 35, my Angus had a few pins earned three of his own for his diplomatic assistance during many a difficult negotiation.  His linguistic skills gave him a leg up for he knew not just what the other side said, he knew what they met.

Angus leaned into the mirror, eyeing wayward grey hairs that were trying to hide below his temples.  He yanked at them with the determination of a mum ridding her child of lice.  “Argh!  How did I miss these?”

I reckoned that this was calling for a no-nonsense intervention.  I walked over to him, forced him to face me, then plated a wet kiss on his forehead.

He groaned, tried to push me off, and wiped the wetness off with the back of his hand.  He didn’t get very far and I had him back into my arms very quickly.

“Mate,” I said while tugging at his waist, “it’s hurting a lot, isn’t it?”

Initially, he looked as if to flub me off but then changed his mind.  “It’s like Father dying all over again.”  He frowned.  “The Duke was like a second dad for me, kind of like Mountbatten was to Charles.”

“I remember.”  Angus went to Windsor fairly frequently.  When he was in short pants he spent more time there than he did in Morganwg, the Reese family estate.  I should know as often Angus demanded his parents bring me, the son of his father’s valet, as well.  As children, he and I were inseparable.  And dear reader, royal families are no more or less wacky than poorer folk.  It’s just that the rich and powerful do it in gold, diamonds, and furs.

“Daeth ef a Charles i'n priodas (He and Charles came to our wedding),” Angus said in Welsh. “And that stuff with Harry and . . . it’s just the same shit that he did to Diana.  Harry is sensitive like his Mum and Charles hates him for it.  Charles knows it was his cowardice that created that whole mess.  I mean . . . “  Angus was loud now like he was working Question Time.  This was escalating.  Mr. Calm struggles with extreme emotions.  He was damn near catatonic for three days after the twins were born.

“Yes, Luv.”  My tone must have given him permission to be vulnerable because he started crying – no, actually sobbing.  I brought him into my arms.  He slumped over me and I felt his tears dripping down my tee shirt collar.  Good thing he couldn’t see my smile for I do so love taking care of him.  I snuggled up closer and lightly kissed his ear.  He tried to wiggle away from my attempt to soothe.

“Well,” Angus said while trying to compose himself, “at least I won’t have to suffer his parenting advice.  I don’t think I could stomach that really.”  He looked directly into my eyes then burst out laughing.  He was bringing himself out of it. 

I smiled back at him with a slight chuckle then returned to his funeral-wear.  “I’ll make sure these are steamed before morning.”  I gathered everything on the hanger and put them on the rack for the servants to pick up in the morning.  I sent a text to our butler Simms as a heads up.

“I’m sorry, I wish you could go with me.”  Angus sounded contrite and genuine.

“I’m sure you are.  Besides the Queen, let’s face it, everyone else is either stupid or crazy.”  I thought for a moment.  “On the other hand, if I was there, at least you’d have a sensible conversation!”  We both laughed heartedly at that.  “No, but really, I’ve got a sermon to finish; Aney kel kek mahevr (I am so behind), I said in Hebrew, ”God waits for no man.  Plus, it’s my turn to read the bedtime story.”

“Ah,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed.  I turned my back to him to finish my valet duties.  I didn’t see him pull off his trousers and get in the bed.  “Well, this spot is still warm,” he said lusciously.  By the time I turned around to him, he had his tee-shirt off and he was rubbing his cock through his boxers.  Angus watched his hand massage the base.  He slowly raised his eyes, long lashes fluttering in his best sexy cover model pose.  I stopped for a moment to wonder how the fuck I got so lucky when it came to husbands – rich and delicious.

“Wanna help?” he teased.

My Dom is usually sterner, but tonight was cute and playful.  “You look like you have things handled.”  I crawled onto the bed and positioned myself next to him as if we were playing at the beach.  “I told you.  I’ve got a sermon to finish, you temptress, you!”

He squeezed and pulled on his dick extra hard, “You’re wasting precious time thinking.”  He unclothed Danny (Don’t judge!  Most people name their junk.  Mine is Matilda – it’s complicated) and waved him at me like a horny soldier on a 24-hour leave in Paris.  “Come give him a kiss.”

The first caveman who got a blowjob must have been like, “Wow!”  The first person who gave a blowjob must have been like, “What a power rush!”  And shifting power is what this family is all about, but that too is complicated.  As I repositioned myself and set up to bend over his torso, I said, “You are the only man I know who goes from sobbing to rubbing his cock faster than his car reaches Autobahn speed.  You’re not well.”

“Unhappiness and regret go against my world view.  Both are bad for the complexion – makes worry lines.”  Angus was nothing if not vain. 

Putting my hand atop his created a quiet moan.  His eyes were alight and twinkling.  Angus licked his lips and dropped his eyes briefly before looking back at me, blushing.  “I suppose I can finish the sermon tomorrow during that morning Zoom meeting,” I stated.  As I continued to reposition myself, he laid back prone, arm over eyes like the best 1920s femme fatale.  I love when he pretends to be some helpless creature at the mercy of the manipulative servant – another theme in this complicated, hexagon of a marriage.  I pulled off my shirt to give my brand some air, as my arousal set off tiny blue spirals that left sparkles on my skin.  I have the image of an oak tree, designed to mimic the Kabbalist vision of the life essence branded on my back – another complicated situation.  Arousal heightens my magical senses. I could hear his anticipation in the sheen of sweat above his pubic hair.  Finally, I focused.  His cock is thick, with large, gnarled veins where sometimes you could actually see the blood flowing.  I tugged at it and got a louder moan for my pleasure.  “Deetz,” Angus said plainly, more like a command than a plea.   

I smiled at him before I bent over to put his dick in my mouth.  The skin was smooth and taunt which accented the pulsing blood.  I took it only halfway in, pulled up, and cupped his balls in my left hand.  The small hairs on the bottom were ridged too like the ones on the back of your neck do during a good horror movie.  I caressed them, rolling the sac in my fingers.  He mumbled in German though, signalling that nothing would due except a knob-slob.  I shifted gears and went up and halfway down the shaft few more times, wide mouth and brushing my tongue lightly against the dick’s underside.

After this prep-work and a deep breath, I swallowed it all and held my lips massaged the base.  Angus hips and butt cheeks began to quiver.  I held him there only for moments then I popped up and gasped for air.  I took a deeper breath and swallowed again.  This time I got murmurs in French, “Deetz!  Deetz!  Mon âme est à toi. Venez chercher votre prix! (My soul is yours.  Come get your prize!)” – a signal that he was about to blow.

Suddenly, there was a tap at the door before it opened.  The sweet smell of jasmine came in before Christy Love said, “Hey guys, do you think . . . “  She looked up from her mobile just as we did.  “Oh my!  Is this a private party or can a baby momma join too?”

Luckily this is a big bed.

A "lost" chapter

 I cut this out of "The Roswell Discrepancy" but I think it is still kinda cute:

I was helping him put on his dinner jacket.  “Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us, Deetz?” Angus Reese asked.

Standing behind him, just to his right, my hands lightly dropping the dinner jacket over his broad shoulders, just like my father, the valet to Angus’s dad, had showed me; one of the few things I tolerated my father teaching me about his vaulted profession – how to dress a man; undressing was something I already had down pat.  “No, those society functions are not my cup of tea,” I said while brushing imaginary lint off his arms and back – an excuse to touch him just a little longer.   “Those were always your friends.”  I put the brush down, looking for some other way to maintain the ruse that I was helping him dress, like what was going here was a throwback, a reflection of our old times playing at valet and Earl – as preparation for some future posting – like when Alfred prepared Batman to play Bruce Wayne.  Only Angus was only four years my senior and I was much more interested in him as a lover than my employer.

“Still, you would know some of the people there,” Angus said.  True – we grew up together on Morganwg just outside of Cardiff, the ancestral estate of the Glamorgan clan.  The males of my family were servants of some close capacity to the Earls of that land since the Boxer Rebellion, when Tison Reese and Jakob Mac Innes secured trade with China to fill the family’s coffers and Hong Kong to add another jewel to the Crown.  Because we were close in age, Angus and I were allowed to play until early adolescence when it was time for us to be groomed for our respective roles.  He went to Eton and I would have trained at one of the top butler schools then him at college had this not been the 21st Century and the dedication to service hadn’t degenerated into an overly romanticized component of a BBC television series.   

“Your hair tie is off-center,” I said to change the subject.  “If you’re going to have long hair, at least tie it properly,” I teased.  It was just another excuse to touch him.  He had taken to wearing it long and binding it like someone out of a Jane Austen novel – said it made him look dashing and dangerous, all at the same time.  I dislodged the shiny black ribbon, and his thick auburn strains fell effortlessly just past his shoulders.  I gathered a batch of it in my hand, for just a moment, combing it through my fingertips to release the echo of sandalwood conditioner lingering therein.  I had to brace myself, maintain the needed self-control to keep from rubbing the soft, silkiness against my cheek.

“You have a point,” he said, startling me out of my moment of fancy, “the ladies do like it when it’s tied up and when I take it down.”  He smiled at his reflection.  He had every reason to be slightly vain for he had grown from a cherub-face, cute kid into a hard-bodied, handsome statue – from an awkward teen living in his daddy’s shadow to a well-known playboy, minted in his own right.  He was, in every way, the leading man, with 5:30 pm shadow that looked like it came straight out of a casting call for Miami Vice.  One would have to see behind the lush lashes that draped casually over his eyes to glimpse the sweet, kind human underneath.  My clairsentience abilities told me that despite the long list of models, movie stars, heiresses, and titled whores decorating his arm in the tabloid photos, there was a longing for someone to bring out the emerald hue of his eyes.  “Still, I’d have more fun if you were there,” he said, pleading again.

“I’m sorry mate,” I replied, quickly retying his ponytail then turning him around to straighten his bow tie.  “This skinny body of mine looks silly in one of your monkey suits.”  I became frustrated and wondered (hoped?) he’d screwed this stuff up on purpose just to tease me.  We hadn’t seen each other in many years however my reputation for rather leisurely, unspeakable sexual exploits had to have reached him.  The world of the ridiculously rich and its hangers on was a small one and I had run into many of his Eton buddies while I lived in Thailand studying Mu Tay and they tasted the Lady Bois I’d just tossed off.  “Anyway, I’ve got a new biography of the Baal Shem Tov I want to finish tonight.”

“Argh!  More philosophy?”

“16th century Jewish mysticism actually.” I smiled at him noticing that he was smiling back and not mocking me; Angus was one of the few people who knew and respected my desire to join the rabbinate.  For just a moment, his eyes sparkled with encouragement and his lips, parted ever so slightly, made me wonder how his moustache would feel against my shaven face.

“By the way, mate,” he added, “you’re not scrawny.  You’ve got that Bruce Lee thing going.  You know, lean and tight all around.”

If only he knew.  I looked down to hide my blush – somehow around him I was just that young boy again, hanging on to a torch that got heavier with each passing season.  “Right.  You’d better get off or Linus will be asleep at the wheel.”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing his trench coat.  I started walking toward the door before he did but his hand on my shoulder stopped me.  Angus asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to come.  I feel sorta bad just leaving you here.  I mean, we haven’t seen one another is a while.  We should hang out together.”

I shook my head.  “You haven’t been home in a while.  I’ll be here for another week.  We’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”  I didn’t give him a chance to say anything more as I exited the room hastily.  I quickly made my way through a set of hidden back steps often used by servants to exit quietly from the master suits.  It was rumored that many of the Glamorgan earls and their valets were lovers.  Considering the lusty thoughts in my mind, such an escape route seemed appropriate.  When I got to my old room near the attic, I was ready to bust a nut and was dying for some sort of release.

I dropped my pants and left them atop of my shoes and got into the bed.  I grabbed at the lube on the nightstand at my left and squirted a glob on my hand, I imagined its warm creaminess was his fingers.  Which fantasy was I going to use this time?  Sometimes Angus would be fucking me, sometimes it was he fucking one of the mindless belles that kept throwing themselves at him.  “I didn’t want his money but forever would be nice,” I thought aloud as I ran my right hand slowly up and down my cock.  This was the third time since I’d been back that I found myself doing this and each time it less and less fulfilling.  My dick was hard but frankly unconvinced.  I thought of giving up when there was a knock and my door opened with Angus’s head peeped around.

“Oi!  Sorry Mate!” He said as his eyes lingered just a moment longer than proper.  “I thought you were reading.”

Embarrassed, I quickly got under the covers and tried wiping the goop on the sheet.  Faking a nonchalant stance, I responded, “No problem.  Was Linus already asleep down for the count?”  I sat up as if I was a child who’d just been tucked in and was waiting for his bedtime story.  “No need to hide.  I’m decent now.”

He came around the door and slowly entered the room, I noted an odd pallor on Angus’s face.  He definitely knew what I was doing and had to realize that it came quite close to our previous conversation; he was no fool.  So, did that red on his cheek mean he was just embarrassed or did he like what he saw?   

TORCHWOOD FANFICTION HERE!

CLICK HERE: My biographer's fourth chapter in this wonderful fanfiction centred on Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness from the Doctor Who adult spin-off, Torchwood.  Please enjoy!!!