![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fangrrl_squeesAlright, so lemme explain.
The story, below, was what I originally had in mind for Inversion (aka "The Switchy!Ianto story") but I decided that I didn't want to bring Owen into the dynamic. Not yet, at least. *ahem* And I thought the tone was a wee bit light, compared to the rest of the series.
But why should I let a perfectly fine bit of filth languish on my hard drive? So, if you like, treat this as an AU for Inversion - as it does make some passing references to that continuity. Or just enjoy it as is, whatever. ;)
Title: Turnabout
Pairing: Ianto/Owen (yes, really) and Ianto/Jack (implied)
Rating: NC-17, but it's not terribly explicit, but there is definitely some naughtiness going on.
Summary: Jack finds more than he expected when he goes looking for some long-lost reports.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns these characters. I'll put them back when I'm done playing with them, honest.
Warning: Unbeta'd.
***
Jack stared in the darkness, not wanting to disturb the scene he'd stumbled across. Actually, it'd had stumbled across him, almost literally.
Jack had been searching through the archives for some old files - reports and speculations that might have brought a fresh point of view to more recent theories - when he'd been startled almost out of his skin (a painful experience, he knew) by the door slamming open and the unmistakable sound of two people looking for privacy tumbled inside.
Jack wondered if all of the storage areas scattered throughout the Hub - the architects had left plenty of room for expansion - were being used for one sort of illicit encounter or another. God knows, he and Ianto had christened a significant number of rooms, recently. Jack was even giving thought to simply converting an unused area for that sole purpose and dubbing it "The Passion Pit", but that would no doubt violate any number of policies in the company manual that Jack never bothered to read.
Jack's thoughts trailed off as he continued to stare from the gloom. He was hidden by a bookcase, the lighting was practically non-existent - it looked like the bulbs were original to the Hub's construction - and besides, Ianto and Owen had other things on their mind.
That was the thing. Ianto and Owen. Oh, sure, Jack had had the pair of them - on separate occasions, of course - and so wasn't that surprised. But those two together? Jack thought they felt nothing but contempt for each other and, combined with Jack's observation that Owen had a broad streak of the rough trade in him, well, it didn't make much sense. Unless, of course, Owen knew a lot more about Ianto than he'd let on. Jack realized that he'd feel a little hurt if Ianto was topping Owen, too. Incredibly turned on, yes, but resentful, too.
Those doubts evaporated as Owen pulled Ianto by the hair - Jack winced sympathetically - and pushed him down onto his knees.
What..? although Jack had a fairly good idea what was going on.
Owen shoved Ianto's face into his crotch. "Suck me, you smarmy little bitch."
Ianto hands shook as he fumbled at Owen's jeans, freeing his cock and immediately taking it in his mouth. No finesse, no teasing, just simple greed.
Owen kept his hold on Ianto, directing him. "At least you're good for this much," Owen muttered. "Christ, you're good..."
Jack thought he was going to pass out from sheer voyeuristic delight, although he wasn't quite sure why he remained in the shadows. His aching cock insisted that, really, they probably wouldn't mind a threesome... But, for once, discretion won out. Besides, if Ianto knew he was watching, Jack's ass would probably ache for a week from the resultant spanking. He bit his lip at the thought. Would that be so bad? He remembered Ianto's surprisingly strong right arm. Yeah, it would.
Ianto had found some rhythm to Owen's liking, it seemed, as Owen no longer directed him and had leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. His the muttered stream of profanity remained unchanged, however, and Ianto's occasional nonverbal response - a heavy moan, a convulsive movement of the hip - at some particularly strong invective suggested that he enjoyed listening to Owen almost as much as sucking him off. A myriad number of wicked ideas tumbled into Jack's mind, threatening to completely derail him.
Jack wasn't used to self-denial, and he didn't like it. He didn't want to disturb this scene but, oh god, he was so hard he could barely think and there wasn't a damn thing he could do. Judging by Owen's heavy breathing and - finally - loss of coherence, he was close. Jack couldn't help comparing the sight to his few memories of Owen in similar context and that did nothing for his equilibrium. I'm amazed they can't hear him upstairs. In fact, I'm amazed they don't hear him on the street, Jack thought, half-admiringly. Jack bit his lip and prayed that Owen was too distracted coming in Ianto's mouth to sense his presence. He shifted, minutely, trying to find a position that would relieve his discomfort, to no avail. He desperately wished he could unbutton his slacks and jerk off, but Jack knew that would push his luck too far. So he suffered and stared.
Ianto clutched at Owen, eyes closed and apparently enraptured as he deftly kept his mouth wrapped around Owen's cock. Jack could just barely hear him whimpering in delight, an entirely different sort of noise than when he had been with Jack. Jack filed it away for future reference - solo or otherwise.
Owen breathed heavily, gazing ceilingward as he regained himself and apparently ignoring Ianto as he fussed about in his customary fashion, making things tidy.
"Can I-" Ianto began, sounding dizzy - perhaps that's why he remained on his knees? Jack knew better.
"No." Owen interrupted his soft-spoken companion. "I don't bloody feel like it." he said, voice harsh.
"Please?"
Jack's heart ached at the plaintive tone, even as he twitched with suppressed effort to not barge in and offer a few alternative courses of action.
"I said, no. I told you, you're being an absolute bitch today, and bitches don't get their rocks off." Owen sneered. Jack realized he was overacting, playing up a part that was expected of him. He brushed Ianto's hand off his hip. "And no jacking yourself off in the gents, later." he threatened. "Or there'll be no more of this, either." Abruptly, he left, leaving Ianto on the dusty concrete floor, looking not at all stricken. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Hell, what are those two up to? And why didn't they tell me? Despite his occasional personal dislike of Owen, Jack was willing to modify his opinion when maddeningly hot sex might possible result. Jack held his breath, knowing that Ianto was the more perceptive of the two and, hell, he had at least a minute before he'd pass out. Well, maybe thirty seconds, given where a significant percentage of his blood supply was focused.
Fortunately, Ianto pulled himself to his feet a few moments later, heaved a shuddering sigh and walked, somewhat shakily, out of the room.
Jack exhaled carefully. "Wow," his whispered. Thank god he didn't have such severe restrictions on taking care of himself because the need was immediate and severe. Belatedly, it occurred to him to wonder just how much of whatever was going on between Owen and Ianto was being transferred into his relationship with the office manager - with Ianto taking on Owen's role. Jack shook his head, realizing he was being paranoid. The similarities were superficial. For a start, Ianto didn't have a mouth like that on him - as far as Jack knew.
Then another late-occuring thought struck him. He had a date with Ianto. Tonight. Jack didn't know whether to caper in glee or ransack the infirmary for some sort of unguent for a well-spanked arse. He'd seen that look of delicious frustration on Ianto's face and he had a very good idea who he was going to take it out on. Jack thought of the silk stockings in his pocket and grinned. It's going to be one hell of a night, he thought, realizing that he was looking forward to it - probaility of a sore ass and all. One hell of a night.
***
Author's Afterword
For what it's worth, this was going to be followed up with Ianto, indeed, taking it out on Jack, although not too unpleasantly, because I've got dark!Ianto bound and gagged in the closet, ironically enough, so no non-con for him, the naughty lad.
Srsly, my outlines after this story were heading off into a direction that I'm not quite ready for - it would be too soon and quite probably a little too implausible, even within the giddy realms of cheerful slashfic - so I yanked the whole thing and started over with Inversion.
As ever, feedback is luv.
The story, below, was what I originally had in mind for Inversion (aka "The Switchy!Ianto story") but I decided that I didn't want to bring Owen into the dynamic. Not yet, at least. *ahem* And I thought the tone was a wee bit light, compared to the rest of the series.
But why should I let a perfectly fine bit of filth languish on my hard drive? So, if you like, treat this as an AU for Inversion - as it does make some passing references to that continuity. Or just enjoy it as is, whatever. ;)
Title: Turnabout
Pairing: Ianto/Owen (yes, really) and Ianto/Jack (implied)
Rating: NC-17, but it's not terribly explicit, but there is definitely some naughtiness going on.
Summary: Jack finds more than he expected when he goes looking for some long-lost reports.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns these characters. I'll put them back when I'm done playing with them, honest.
Warning: Unbeta'd.
***
Jack stared in the darkness, not wanting to disturb the scene he'd stumbled across. Actually, it'd had stumbled across him, almost literally.
Jack had been searching through the archives for some old files - reports and speculations that might have brought a fresh point of view to more recent theories - when he'd been startled almost out of his skin (a painful experience, he knew) by the door slamming open and the unmistakable sound of two people looking for privacy tumbled inside.
Jack wondered if all of the storage areas scattered throughout the Hub - the architects had left plenty of room for expansion - were being used for one sort of illicit encounter or another. God knows, he and Ianto had christened a significant number of rooms, recently. Jack was even giving thought to simply converting an unused area for that sole purpose and dubbing it "The Passion Pit", but that would no doubt violate any number of policies in the company manual that Jack never bothered to read.
Jack's thoughts trailed off as he continued to stare from the gloom. He was hidden by a bookcase, the lighting was practically non-existent - it looked like the bulbs were original to the Hub's construction - and besides, Ianto and Owen had other things on their mind.
That was the thing. Ianto and Owen. Oh, sure, Jack had had the pair of them - on separate occasions, of course - and so wasn't that surprised. But those two together? Jack thought they felt nothing but contempt for each other and, combined with Jack's observation that Owen had a broad streak of the rough trade in him, well, it didn't make much sense. Unless, of course, Owen knew a lot more about Ianto than he'd let on. Jack realized that he'd feel a little hurt if Ianto was topping Owen, too. Incredibly turned on, yes, but resentful, too.
Those doubts evaporated as Owen pulled Ianto by the hair - Jack winced sympathetically - and pushed him down onto his knees.
What..? although Jack had a fairly good idea what was going on.
Owen shoved Ianto's face into his crotch. "Suck me, you smarmy little bitch."
Ianto hands shook as he fumbled at Owen's jeans, freeing his cock and immediately taking it in his mouth. No finesse, no teasing, just simple greed.
Owen kept his hold on Ianto, directing him. "At least you're good for this much," Owen muttered. "Christ, you're good..."
Jack thought he was going to pass out from sheer voyeuristic delight, although he wasn't quite sure why he remained in the shadows. His aching cock insisted that, really, they probably wouldn't mind a threesome... But, for once, discretion won out. Besides, if Ianto knew he was watching, Jack's ass would probably ache for a week from the resultant spanking. He bit his lip at the thought. Would that be so bad? He remembered Ianto's surprisingly strong right arm. Yeah, it would.
Ianto had found some rhythm to Owen's liking, it seemed, as Owen no longer directed him and had leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. His the muttered stream of profanity remained unchanged, however, and Ianto's occasional nonverbal response - a heavy moan, a convulsive movement of the hip - at some particularly strong invective suggested that he enjoyed listening to Owen almost as much as sucking him off. A myriad number of wicked ideas tumbled into Jack's mind, threatening to completely derail him.
Jack wasn't used to self-denial, and he didn't like it. He didn't want to disturb this scene but, oh god, he was so hard he could barely think and there wasn't a damn thing he could do. Judging by Owen's heavy breathing and - finally - loss of coherence, he was close. Jack couldn't help comparing the sight to his few memories of Owen in similar context and that did nothing for his equilibrium. I'm amazed they can't hear him upstairs. In fact, I'm amazed they don't hear him on the street, Jack thought, half-admiringly. Jack bit his lip and prayed that Owen was too distracted coming in Ianto's mouth to sense his presence. He shifted, minutely, trying to find a position that would relieve his discomfort, to no avail. He desperately wished he could unbutton his slacks and jerk off, but Jack knew that would push his luck too far. So he suffered and stared.
Ianto clutched at Owen, eyes closed and apparently enraptured as he deftly kept his mouth wrapped around Owen's cock. Jack could just barely hear him whimpering in delight, an entirely different sort of noise than when he had been with Jack. Jack filed it away for future reference - solo or otherwise.
Owen breathed heavily, gazing ceilingward as he regained himself and apparently ignoring Ianto as he fussed about in his customary fashion, making things tidy.
"Can I-" Ianto began, sounding dizzy - perhaps that's why he remained on his knees? Jack knew better.
"No." Owen interrupted his soft-spoken companion. "I don't bloody feel like it." he said, voice harsh.
"Please?"
Jack's heart ached at the plaintive tone, even as he twitched with suppressed effort to not barge in and offer a few alternative courses of action.
"I said, no. I told you, you're being an absolute bitch today, and bitches don't get their rocks off." Owen sneered. Jack realized he was overacting, playing up a part that was expected of him. He brushed Ianto's hand off his hip. "And no jacking yourself off in the gents, later." he threatened. "Or there'll be no more of this, either." Abruptly, he left, leaving Ianto on the dusty concrete floor, looking not at all stricken. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Hell, what are those two up to? And why didn't they tell me? Despite his occasional personal dislike of Owen, Jack was willing to modify his opinion when maddeningly hot sex might possible result. Jack held his breath, knowing that Ianto was the more perceptive of the two and, hell, he had at least a minute before he'd pass out. Well, maybe thirty seconds, given where a significant percentage of his blood supply was focused.
Fortunately, Ianto pulled himself to his feet a few moments later, heaved a shuddering sigh and walked, somewhat shakily, out of the room.
Jack exhaled carefully. "Wow," his whispered. Thank god he didn't have such severe restrictions on taking care of himself because the need was immediate and severe. Belatedly, it occurred to him to wonder just how much of whatever was going on between Owen and Ianto was being transferred into his relationship with the office manager - with Ianto taking on Owen's role. Jack shook his head, realizing he was being paranoid. The similarities were superficial. For a start, Ianto didn't have a mouth like that on him - as far as Jack knew.
Then another late-occuring thought struck him. He had a date with Ianto. Tonight. Jack didn't know whether to caper in glee or ransack the infirmary for some sort of unguent for a well-spanked arse. He'd seen that look of delicious frustration on Ianto's face and he had a very good idea who he was going to take it out on. Jack thought of the silk stockings in his pocket and grinned. It's going to be one hell of a night, he thought, realizing that he was looking forward to it - probaility of a sore ass and all. One hell of a night.
***
Author's Afterword
For what it's worth, this was going to be followed up with Ianto, indeed, taking it out on Jack, although not too unpleasantly, because I've got dark!Ianto bound and gagged in the closet, ironically enough, so no non-con for him, the naughty lad.
Srsly, my outlines after this story were heading off into a direction that I'm not quite ready for - it would be too soon and quite probably a little too implausible, even within the giddy realms of cheerful slashfic - so I yanked the whole thing and started over with Inversion.
As ever, feedback is luv.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 12:18 am (UTC)because I've got dark!Ianto bound and gagged in the closet, ironically enough, so no non-con for him, the naughty lad.
You're not ever going to let him out???? That seems cruel.
Looking forward to the follow up to this.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 02:25 am (UTC)However, Dark!Ianto will probably make an appearance in the sixth installment of this apparently unending series, I think...
no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 02:33 am (UTC)*squees quietly*
no subject
Date: 2007-04-13 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-08 03:46 am (UTC)It's a kind of bizzare love triangle between Ianto/Owen/Jack With Ianto in the middle. Was so very hot I would love if you added a more to this
no subject
Date: 2007-07-08 04:49 am (UTC)Alas, I doubt there's going to be any more along this line, although I've noticed that whenever I'm drafting the toppy!Ianto stuff, I keep typing "Owen" instead of of "Ianto"... *evil grin*