m_findlow

Title: Desperate times
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Ianto
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: M
Notes: Written for Challenge 44 - Carnal at anythingdrabble
Summary: Jack's brain is flooded with needy thoughts.

Damn it. Why does everything always have to end up like this? I shouldn’t want him. Hell, up until half an hour ago I’d been trying everything in my powers to get this kid to leave me the hell alone.

It’s that suit. Go on, Jack, think about all those lawyers you’ve shagged over the years. You never could help yourself, could you? Someone should come along with a rolled up newspaper and whack you every time you think about doing something naughty that involves removing layers of jackets, shirts and fancy ties.

He’s too young. Ha! Isn’t that funny, Jack? Everyone is too young compared to you, but it’s still the pretty ones that catch your eye. Don’t deny you didn’t have just the briefest thoughts of seeing where it might go when you guys tussled with that weevil. The adrenaline was doing most of the talking but you weren’t exactly completely unattracted to that tight little pair of jeans and those badass studs. No, stop. Don’t think about that, it’ll only make things worse.

God I love this job, but man can it throw some curve balls!

And the hard part is already over. There’s no awkward moment of “hey, so can I lie on top of you?“ or “is that your cock pressed up against mine that feels good?“ Sweet goddesses but it is pressed against mine. Does he have any idea how good that feels?

Just kiss him. That’s what I should do. Let’s not sit here and pretend that isn’t a realistic possibility. We’re that close I could use him to breathe underwater. One kiss. That’s all it’ll take. Once you’ve gotten the formalities out of the way, its only natural to proceed to the next logical conclusion. Floor of an abandoned warehouse? Not the least comfortable place I’ve ever done it. Anyway, it’s not about the location, it’s about satisfying a need.

Ianto Jones, where the hell did you come from? You and that suit and those blue eyes and that cute little arse just begging to be… no, don’t think about that. Oh, that’s right. You’re one of them. Torchwood One. The enemy. Is it okay to sleep with the enemy? I’m sure it’s happened loads of times before. We could just, you know, test the waters a bit. See where it all goes. Mmm… I know where I’d like it to go, but there’s too many clothes in the way.

There’s an unconscious pterodactyl just over there. Ha! Saved from being squashed by it by this sexy man. Life just does not get any better.

'I should go.'

What? No, wait. We haven’t got to the kissing, or the undressing or the fucking parts yet! You can’t go now! There’s a pterodactyl to be dealt with, and I need dealing with, because a hand job back at the hub isn’t gonna cut it. Do something, Jack!

'Report first thing tomorrow morning.' Yes! Who cares if he’s Torchwood One? Worry about that later.