m_findlow

Title: Tongue in cheek
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto/Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M (for implied naughtiness)
Length: 500 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 491 - Gesture at slashthedrabble
Summary: Ianto finds it impossible to stay mad at Jack.

The team began to flock out of the boardroom after what had been a long day, made even longer by Owen's very boring analysis of his autopsy. As they filtered out one by one, Jack grabbed Ianto before he too could leave. He had a look on his face that very clearly said he was annoyed about something, and Jack was fairly sure he knew what.

'Hold up, Ianto. We're not done yet.'

'Oh, yes we are,' he said. 'I can't believe you.' He paused. 'No, actually, I take that back. I can believe it, very much so.'

'What?'

'You know exactly what, Jack! You think you can just sit there and make rude gestures and it's okay?'

'Owen's presentation was boring. I was only trying to make a suggestion for what we could do afterwards.'

Oh, yes, he'd made that perfectly clear. It was all Ianto could do not to leap across the table and strangle him as he made the lewd gestures, poking the side of his cheek with his tongue, eyes fixed firmly on Ianto as he did it.

'What if someone else had seen?' He'd averted his eyes the moment he'd realised what Jack was doing, certain he was going bright red in the process. If someone didn't see Jack's actions directly, they were bound to notice Ianto's own embarrassment as he begged to be sucked into the floor. When he cast an eye back five minutes later and Jack started up again, it was anger rather than embarrassment that coursed through him.

'Well, for starters, they'd have to have as dirty a mind as you, and secondly, they probably already know what happens after they clock off.' Even as he said it, his hands were already making themselves known.

'We need to be professional, Jack,' Ianto said, though he did nothing to brush Jack's hands away.

'We are. Everyone else has gone home for the night.'

'I meant, during the day.'

'I haven't dragged you off to the supplies closet for over a month, and you have no idea how much restraint I'm showing on that front.'

'Restraint. A resistance to urges. Antonym, Jack Harkness,' he replied. Restraint was what he should have been showing as Jack began touching him in all the right ways.

'I can't help it if you think everything I do is some sexual overture,' Jack said, teasing him.

'That's because it usually is,' he said, his frustration at Jack being eaten away by Jack's ministrations. Please stop so I can be properly angry with you, he thought.

'Okay, so let's make a deal,' Jack said. 'I promise to stop making promises of sexual gratification during very boring meetings, if you promise to stop being so totally hot.'

'And how am I supposed to do that?'

'That's your problem, not mine,' Jack said, dropping to his knees and carrying on.

He should have pulled away, but didn't. You are such a whore to let him get away with this, Ianto thought.