Forces of Attraction

Forces of Attraction

Title: Forces of Attraction
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Warning: Smut.
Word Count: 2560
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When two bodies fall together.
Notes: Written at the request of , for . She said “Have fun!” so I did.

Jack was the element of chaos in Ianto’s orderly system. The strange attractor. The irresistible force that Ianto could not fight, and he was falling, falling, falling more every day.


“Ianto!” Jack whirled on the top of the stairs and peered down at him, hanging over the banister. “Ianto, I need all the records you can find on 46 Dryer Place. See if there have been reports of haunting before.”

“Yes, sir,” Ianto said, starting for his workstation.

“Oh!” Jack stopped himself again, boots clunking on the metal steps. “And! Some more of those biscuits you had yesterday, with the raisins.”

“Yes, sir,” Ianto repeated, trying so hard not to smirk he thought he might be smirking anyway.

“And, Ianto? Never mind that. Come up here, please.”

Reorienting himself like a guided missile, Ianto swerved from the workstation to the stairs.

“I want you to up here because I know there are more things I’ll want you to look up and you’re better at this Googling thing than I am. Though I have to say Googling sounds like something you do with a group of naked friends and some olive oil. Olive oil is much more effective than vegetable oil, by the way. And smells better. Hi,” Jack added because by this time Ianto had reached the top of the stairs and they were at eye level.

“Hello, sir,” Ianto said and moved past him to the top of the stairs to go into the office. He wondered if Jack would ask him to Google olive oil instead of house-related possessions.

“So if I asked you to Google me, what would you do?” Jack said, following him.

“I’d enter your name in the search engine and see what it found.” Which Ianto had done numerous times. And he was good at internet searches and still couldn’t find a thing.

“Ah,” said Jack, and by this time they were out of eye line of the others — not that it mattered, they all knew, it was the kind of thing you know without seeing like knowing the stars are still in the sky even during the daytime — so Jack pressed him against the nearest wall and said, his voice dropping in register and his head dropping a little too so that he was looking at Ianto through his eyelashes, “And if I asked you to Google me.”

“Perhaps I’ll buy some olive oil, sir,” Ianto said, his voice steady despite his sudden breathlessness. It was enough to send him whirling on his axis sometimes, the effect Jack had on him with just a look and the slightest pressure from his body.

“Promises, promises,” Jack murmured and his gaze dropped to Ianto’s mouth. Ianto almost smiled, but licked his lower lip instead, a mere flick of his tongue. Jack was so easy — as the shudder that ran through Jack at this small gesture proved. Sometimes Ianto thought, if he were a different kind of man he’d take this power he had over Jack and use it to do something really nasty.

It was a good thing, really, that he wasn’t a different kind of man.

Jack pressed his cheek against Ianto’s, breathing slowly, and it was Ianto’s turn to shudder at the simplicity of it. Jack could be a heartless bastard and a presumptuous ass, but he had moments of sweetness that made Ianto ache, that made him certain it was the right thing to keep coming back for more.

Though sometimes Ianto thought he’d keep coming back even it was wrong.

“The search, sir,” he reminded Jack softly, rubbing his face against Jack’s, his eyes closed. He could feel the heat in Jack’s skin and the brush of his breath, and the longing in the way Jack turned his face closer.

“Yes,” Jack whispered, and then pulled away and smiled carelessly. “You’re such a distraction — it’s a wonder anyone gets any work down around here,” he said and went into his office.


It was not a possession at 46 Dryer Place, of course: it was an alien that manifested as a silvery-blue vibrating light and that liked to throw things. Jack could be very persuasive, though, particularly to something that basically just wanted to go home. A little waving of the hands, a little retcon, a little explanation about heavy lorries on the nearby parkway, and it was done.

Time, Ianto hoped, to keep the promise Jack had made outside his office earlier.

Toshiko was the only one still lingering when Ianto had the Hub tidied up to his satisfaction: she was translating, muttering to herself as she followed various trains of thought, and Ianto smiled as he listened to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and she glanced back at him with an absent smile. “It’s past one,” he said and she started up.

“No! It can’t be that late. Where did the time go?” She pulled on her jacket and picked up her purse. “You’re here late, too.”

“Yes, I am,” Ianto said simply as he shepherded her out.

When he came back down to the Hub there was music playing from Jack’s office. Ianto followed the familiar sound, and said as he entered the office, “Don’t tell me: ‘Moonlight in Vermont’?”

“You are getting good,” Jack said with a proud smile, and pushed back from his desk and patted his knee. “C’mere.”

“And sit on your knee?” Ianto said. “As if you were Father Christmas?” He sat on Jack’s knee anyway and put his arms around Jack’s neck.

“Yes — tell me all your wishes, little boy,” Jack said with a lecherous expression, wrapping his arms around Ianto’s waist, and Ianto laughed and kissed him. It was exactly what he’d been wanting all day: these quiet moments between them, Jack’s hands splayed over his back, the insistent lick of his tongue. He touched Jack as they kissed, the backs of his fingers stroking up and down Jack’s cheekbone and throat, tracing an ear with his thumb, kneading his shoulders and the back of his neck.

“This is my wish,” he whispered when they parted, and he held Jack’s cheek and studied his face. Jack smiled — the smile he used when they were alone, the gentle one that seemed the least practiced and most real — and leaned his forehead against Ianto’s neck. “This is what I want. Though it’ll probably be more comfortable lying down.”

“And easier to touch you back,” Jack murmured against his skin. Ianto hissed when he felt the slight nip of Jack’s teeth, and he tugged on Jack’s hair in retaliation. Jack laughed and moved one hand from Ianto’s back to between his legs and squeezed him lightly. Ianto shuddered and tugged his hair again as Jack rubbed him with the heel of his hand. “Though this is working pretty well,” Jack said in a detached tone that didn’t fool Ianto for a moment.”I think you kind of like me, Ianto.”

Ianto laughed shakily and said, “Kind of,” and tilted up Jack’s head to kiss him again, hard and passionate and deep. “Didn’t you want to lie down?”

“On the floor?” Jack suggested and gave Ianto’s cock an extra-firm squeeze. Ianto gasped and tilted Jack’s face upwards.

“So you’d rather just give me a hand job right here.”

“Maybe,” Jack said and grinned at him, mischievous, and leaned forward to nudge Ianto’s mouth with his lips. His tongue darted out to touch Ianto’s lip, and Ianto touched Jack’s tongue with the tip of his own. Jack shivered and Ianto smiled, and plunged in to kiss him again. Jack let go of his erection to clutch at the back of his head. Ianto slid off Jack’s knee and stood, and pulled loose the knot in his tie. Jack shifted in the chair and leaned his chin on his hand, suppressing a smile.

“I could leave it on,” Ianto offered, both ends of the tie in his hands.

“No, take it off. Slowly.” In response Ianto pulled the tie loose from his collar, and then looped it around Jack’s neck and tugged. Jack laughed with anticipation and grabbed his hands. “Trying to tell me something?”

“Do you want to fuck me or not?” Ianto said in a reasonable tone, wrapping the tie around his hands to pull Jack closer. Jack made another anticipatory sound, his head falling back as if he expected to be kissed. Ianto didn’t kiss him, though, not yet — he ran a hand over Jack’s soft hair and down his neck, then slowly down his chest, popping buttons as he went. He traced his fingers over Jack’s undershirt, down between the crisp and soft layers of cotton. Jack was watching him, and he arched into Ianto’s hand with a low sound in his throat. “I think the answer is yes,” Ianto remarked and finally stooped to kiss him.

Jack stood up from the chair, wrapped his arms around Ianto’s neck and kissed him back. “The answer is always yes.” His hand slid down Ianto’s arm and their fingers wove together, and Jack tugged him towards the hatch that led to his quarters. “I like the lying-down idea. Let’s do that.”


He was caught in Jack’s pull and could no more turn away than the earth could leave the sun. What made it bearable was that Jack was just as helpless to resist him and that he showed no signs of wanting to try.


So much easier this way, chest to chest and hip to hip. Jack’s skin was warm and smooth, taut over his muscles, salty-sweet to Ianto’s tongue. His heart beat steady and fast, pounding harder as Ianto’s mouth descended down his body. Ianto loved the way Jack responded to him, the little sounds he made, the soft whispers.

Jack grabbed his shoulders and pushed him onto his back, kissed him hard and ran a hand down his body. He thumbed Ianto’s nipples as he kissed him, circled his navel, cupped his balls and stroked his prick. Ianto lay with his legs sprawled open, lips parted to take Jack’s tongue and hips rocking into his touch. He stroked up and down Jack’s spine, relishing the strength in his body.

They had reached a point between them where they didn’t need to discuss the hows and whats — they knew what each other liked, what they needed. More importantly, they had stopped pretending it was just sex. It was never “just” sex — not for Ianto, who believed in love; not for Jack, for whom nothing was ever “just.”

Jack rubbed their cocks together as they kissed. It was a delicious friction, and Ianto dug his fingers into Jack’s hips to hold onto his slick skin. He pulled up his legs, knees under Jack’s arms, and held onto Jack’s neck as he whispered, “Jack — please — please, Jack —”

“So polite,” Jack said in a low, hoarse voice — he kissed Ianto fiercely and then rolled away to squeeze lubricant onto his fingers, and then back to push them into Ianto. “Better than olive oil.”

Ianto moaned and twitched at the press of Jack’s fingers, and gasped, “Doesn’t taste as good,” which made Jack laugh. He kissed Ianto harder and stroked inside him until Ianto was whimpering with need and pulling on Jack’s hips. Jack got onto his knees between Ianto’s thighs and braced his hands over Ianto’s shoulders, and slowly, slowly thrust into him. Ianto locked his ankles behind Jack’s back and held onto his shoulders, eyes fixed on Jack’s. Jack was smiling faintly, and he dipped his head to rub his nose against Ianto’s.

They moved together slowly. Jack’s mouth was tantalizingly, temptingly, close to Ianto’s, close enough to feel his breath and warmth, not close enough to kiss. Ianto flicked out his tongue to touch Jack’s lips, and when Jack pulled back, smiling, Ianto whispered, “Kiss me.” He dug his fingers deeper into Jack’s back. “Kiss me, Jack.”

Jack kissed him lightly, and then deep, his hand in Ianto’s hair. He pulled back again and watched Ianto’s face, and there was that smile again, just a hint of it at the corner of his mouth. Ianto touched his mouth and let his thumb linger on that faint curl, and Jack kissed his thumb and bent to kiss his forehead.

He pulled Ianto’s leg up over his shoulder and Ianto curled his body, groaning as Jack stroked into him deeper. He wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and Jack kissed him, distracting Ianto as he took Ianto’s cock in his broad, strong fist. Ianto jerked and jerked again, his legs shaking — it was so much, Jack’s hand, Jack’s cock, Jack’s tongue — Ianto came in a long hot wave that rocked him from head to toe.

All through it Jack didn’t stop kissing him.


He rested his head on his hand and watched Jack, whose face was sleepy and sweet. Jack blinked slowly, watching him back.

“You have freckles on your shoulders,” Ianto said. He drew a line from one to the next with his fingertip.


“I like them.”

“Good.” His foot moved under the duvet and slowly stroked up Ianto’s leg.

“There’s very little about you I don’t like,” Ianto added and Jack cocked an eyebrow.

“‘Very little’? Not ‘nothing’?” He started to pout in disappointment and Ianto kissed his mouth.

“I like so much about you,” he amended. “I like almost everything.”

“Only ‘almost’?” Jack said, still pouting, and Ianto shook his head.

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m a fact.” He grinned at Ianto. “Facts are never impossible.”

Ianto laid his head on Jack’s back. “You’re cosmic inflation,” he murmured and kissed Jack’s shoulder blade. Jack chuckled. “You’re a singularity on the event horizon. You’re dark matter.”

Jack rolled over so he could hold Ianto’s biceps. “Shouldn’t you say I’m a gas giant? Or a supernova?”

“Supernova,” Ianto murmurs and kissed him. “I like that.”

“Me too.” Jack tugged him closer and Ianto tucked himself against Jack’s side. He exhaled and closed his eyes. He felt so good here, like it was the first place he’d really fit.

He said uncertainly, his voice soft, “I think of myself as a moon in your orbit, most of the time.”

“Oh? Hm.” Jack was quiet a moment and then shook his head. “No, that’s not it.”

Ianto looked at him. “Then what is it?”

“More like . . . binary stars.”

“Endlessly circling ’round each other,” Ianto murmured.


“Repelled by their own attraction.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I don’t find you repellent in the least.”

Ianto propped himself up on his elbow and kissed Jack’s smiling mouth, then between his eyebrows and the tip of his nose. “I’m caught in your gravity,” he said softly. “I don’t ever want to break free.”

Jack looked at him through his thick lashes and pulled Ianto’s head to his chest. “Get some sleep, Ianto. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Ianto said. He pressed his nose against Jack’s skin and inhale the scent of him. Jack’s arm encircled him and one hand rested on Ianto’s hip, heavy and warm.

Drawn into him, Ianto slept.


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