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Wine and Roses (Torchwood) oneshot


Jelloicious

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At some point, a decade's worth of "gee, I sure wish there was more Torchwood Fetish Fic in the world" will resolve itself, and you fine people can go back to enjoying fandoms for shows that didn't trail off into the sunset years ago.  In the mean time....

 

TWTWTWTWTW

 

That’s quite some kit,”Jack says, eyeing with frank curiosity the bulky equipment Ianto is carrying across the hub.

Ianto shifts his load. Buckets, broom, mop, respirator and mask. Rags, sponges...several other things Jack doesn’t recognize, and stuff in the buckets he can’t entirely make out.

Store room on the 4th sublevel,” Ianto explains. “Thought I’d tackle it while the rift is quiet.”

Jack picks up the respirator mask. “This is unusual. Planning to acid wash down there?”

Ianto shrugs. “It’s for the dust. It makes me sneeze.”

Huh. Enough to need one of these?” Jack asks, turning over a fairly industrial strength respirator in his hand. He smiles distantly at the memory of Ianto sneezing.

Enough that I’d never be able to finish, if I didn’t take the mask.” Ianto replies, darkly, retrieving his mask and putting it back in one of his buckets.

Jack grins…thinks to himself he could interrupt Ianto’s progress….

In the end, though, Jack leaves him alone to go about his business. Jack has his own tasks to attend to, and they have been piling up between the rift and the weevils and that whole UNIT fiasco. But hours and hours later, when his last conference call is done, and the last report complete, and he’s reviewed and signed off on everything piled in his in-basket, Jack sits back in his desk chair, and wonders how things are progressing down on sublevel 4. Thinks to himself that it’s high it’s time to check in, and see. That’s what bosses do, after all.

He take the time to stretch, crack a few vertebrae, and then to shoo the rest of Torchwood Three’s staff out of the Hub on his way. Days when the rift is quiet are a rare enough luxury, that Jack thinks they shouldn’t be spent entirely in the pursuit of desperately trying to catching up. He understands the value of down time, and enforces it with his staff. When he can. After Tosh, Gwen and Owen have left, he finds a couple of bottles of water (he thinks manual labor must be thirst-making work), and wends his way down an ancient stairwell, to see how Ianto is faring.

Jack can’t even remember the last time he was in this store room on sublevel 4. Like every space for storage in the Hub, it contains an assortment of rift debris. Jack has a general idea of where it is, knows it’s relatively large, and filled with all manner of stuff accumulated by Torchwood over the course of decades. So far as he can recall, though, it’s not actually actively been used since the ‘60’s or maybe the ‘70’s. It’s far enough underground that he is not even sure what dust might get circulated down here. Can’t imagine that it would be all that much, really, so far underground, but Ianto’s fairly extensive precautions have him intrigued. He has seen Ianto sneeze before. It’s sexy, in a peculiar, buttoned-up-come-undone kind of way. Jack likes that sort of thing, seeing his perfectly starched, perfectly pressed lover, unwrapped (like a present) and undone.

The Hub is comprised of a warren of rooms and corridors that extend far underground. Jack knows it better than anyone else, but even for him, the corridors, built across generations, are tangled, and confusing. He knows he’s at least on the right track, though, when he finds a stepladder in one of the maze-like corridors deep in the bowels of the hub, draped with a neatly folded pair of trousers, a fine suit jacket and the (now slightly wrinkled) crimson dress shirt Ianto had been wearing earlier laid across it, with a rolled up tie and a set of cuff links carefully placed on top of the folded shirt. If he was interested in what Ianto was up to before, he is even moreso, now. He imagines a number of possible reasons Ianto might be unclothed down in the lower levels of the hub—though none of them seem particularly likely, especially without Jack’s involvement. Jack allows himself a moment to imagine Ianto naked, sweat streaked with dust, running over muscles, wearing a respirator. Like a fire-brigade pinup. The mental image is both ridiculous and ridiculously hot. He grins to himself. This promises to be fun.

He finds the room. And finds Ianto. But Ianto is not naked. Quite to the contrary, he’s tucked almost completely into a (formerly) white, hooded, disposable coverall. Even his hands are concealed by rubber gloves that reach half way to his elbows. The outfit is streaked with grime and sweat. Evidence of Ianto’s labors is plain, though, and he is making some sure headway against a half-centuries’ worth of cobwebs, dust and mildew. The air is acrid and bites just a bit sharply. The room smells of stale air, dust, mold, disintegrated cardboard, vinegar and something else jack can’t quite name. Lemons, perhaps? The faint odor of a rubber belt on a vacuum strained too far? It’s hard to quite say...

Ianto sees Jack, and pauses his efforts. Moves to greet him, looking for all the world like some lost grubby astronaut. Some part of Jack’s hindbrain suggests he’d damned well be sure that’s Ianto, when Ianto removes his mask, and smiles at him, Jack can see the outline of clean skin protected by the mask, surrounded by grime and sweat.

Jack looks around, taking in the progress Ianto has made here, then grins widely at Ianto. “Impressive work. Are you sure your boss pays you enough?” he asks, moving across the expanse to offer Ianto a water bottle.

Ianto gratefully accepts the bottle, and sucks it down fully, before answering Jack’s question. “No,” he admits, “but there are perks.” Ianto’s eyes twinkle a bit when he says this, and Jack returns his smile. Jack had intended the second bottle for himself, but he offers this one as well to Ianto, who has clearly earned it. Ianto takes the second bottle. He drinks the second bottle more slowly.

Ianto is careful not to bring his gloved hands too near his face, though Jack can see he wants to, and Jack reaches up to thumbs a bead of sweat away from Ianto’s forehead for him, before it runs into his eye. Ianto has the look of a man who enjoys this sort of physical labor. Or maybe just the satisfaction of making order out of disorder, Jack isn’t entirely sure.

Jack likes the look on him, though.

Mask working for you?” Jack asks. He’s a little disappointed. He didn’t really actually expect to find Ianto naked down on sublevel 4, but when he saw the suit folded over a chair, well, he could hope, couldn’t he? Some part of him was hoping to catch Ianto in a sneeze. Some part of him is disappointed that the mask seems have prevented that entirely.

At least, maybe, until he took it off.

Ianto sniffs, lightly, casually, almost as if he himself doesn’t notice. “Working very well. The first time I tried to clean one of these sub basements, I didn’t last an hour, I was sneezing so much. Rift willing, I’ll have this one done within a week!”

Jack tries to imagine Ianto sneezing so hard he couldn’t finish work, and finds he can’t picture that at all.

Ianto crinkles his nose just a bit, and Jack thinks maybe, if they stay down here talking long enough, he won’t have to imagine it. “Oh? I don’t remember that…”

Ianto sniffs again. “You were in London, I think.”

Just...dust? Or are you allergic?” Jack tries to sound casual about it, though he suspects Ianto sees right through that.

Ianto crinkles his nose again, and shrugs. “Dust, mold, maybe both. All I know is that if I get enough of this fine dust down here in my nose, I just can’t stop sneezing.”

Hmm.” Jack bites his lip, and thinks he really should not want to witness that quite as much as he does.

Still, he’s Jack Harkness. “As I recall,” he says, moving even closer to Ianto, into his personal space, “Your sneezes are kind of...hot.”

Ianto pulls his gloves off, rubs at his nose, before reaching to pull Jack even closer. “Oh, you think so, do you?”

Jack nods, watching Ianto in fascination. The younger man’s eyes are tearing just slightly, and he swallows.

Most definitely.” Jack says. “Remember when you came down with that cold?” Jack is grinning stupidly at the memory.

I do. I also remember when you caught it. I suspect that has something to do with all the close personal contact we had when I was sniffling and sneezing.”

Like this?” Jack asks leaning in to kiss the other man.

Mmmm. Maybe also something to do with all that sex we had, too.”

Sex sneezes are the best,”Jack says. “So worth it.”

I’m glad you think so. Not sure you thought so at the time,” Ianto says, rubbing at the side of his nose. He’s made a lot of headway today, but cleaning kicks a lot up in the air. A lot of very find dust just hanging in the air, waiting for Ianto to breathe it in. He can’t see it, but he can feel it now, deep in his sinuses, and he knows he won’t be getting any more work done in the store room today. He pulls at the coverall, unzipping it down the front, dropping it off his shoulders, in what Jack is willing to take as a strip tease. Ianto’s skin is pink and damp. And although Ianto wouldn’t think so, Jack thinks he smells deliciously of clean sweat; of a day’s honest labor.

Find anything interesting down here?” Jack asks. Tells himself that this is not just an excuse to keep Ianto down here, half way out of his dusty set of coveralls, breathing in the dust and mold until he can’t help himself and gives in to that sneeze Jack knows he’s trying to stave off.

Actually,” Ianto says with an audible sniff, “I’ve found a few pieces of tech that Tosh may want to examine.” He directs Jack toward a table, with an assortment of carefully cleaned items.

Jack looks over the items with interest. Most are broken bits of rift debris, but there’s also an object that Jack recognizes as a Syrelian locking cube. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands. Finding no marking to indicate that it contains anything dangerous, he fiddles with it a bit, looking for the key to open it, without success, then passes it over to Ianto. “Tosh would like this one,” he says, taking note of Ianto’s now glistening eyes, before turning to look over more of the items, wondering how long Ianto could hold out before giving himself over to a sneeze.

Just one. Really, that’s all Jack wants. One, deliciously unrestrained sneeze. He suspects he won’t have to wait long. He moves through the rows of items, laid out like some alien thrift store, with items both familiar and not, until he reaches what looks like an old suitcase, hard sided, leather—the sort that was common more than half a century ago. He can see that Ianto’s given the piece at least a cursory once-over, no doubt removing a thick layer of dust. But he can also see that the piece has not yet been opened, that dust thickly coats the crevices and hinges. This may be just the thing. Jack reaches out and thumbs the latch, which springs back with some force, and a surprisingly loud thwang, as the spring loaded mechanism jars loose a small cloud of dust.

Ianto takes a preemptive step backwards as Jack releases the other latch on the old case, but he knows it’s already too late. He automatically stifles a sneeze into his elbow. He knew it was too late for him the minute Jack said his sneezes were hot. Knew he’d stay down here as long as it took to give Jack a proper show.

Jack is preoccupied with the case, and doesn’t even notice Ianto’s first, nearly silent sneeze. Though Ianto tries to catch the second one and stifle it, too, he knows it’s a losing battle. Still, it’s almost a whispered K’tshhhhhhh that escapes him.

Jack looks up from his prize, “You okay?”

Ianto nods, unable to speak around the effort of trying to contain a third sneeze. His eyes water and his hands fumble for the pockets in his dusty, half-removed coveralls, but they hold no handkerchiefs. There is no containing this one, and he almost roars. HeYAAAASHooooo!!

It’s everything Jack had hoped for, loud, and forceful enough to shake Ianto’s frame. Ianto is trying his best to hold out, and Jack is overcome with the desire to ravish the young man right here on the floor of the store room, amidst the sweat, and grime and evidence of hard work. And in the middle of Ianto sneezing, Jack can sense that the young man I about to tip over the edge, and so is Jack, but in a different way.Jack knows Ianto can’t hope to stem the tickle, but his attempts drive Jack crazy, even as Ianto draws a deep breath and sneezes again, with force. heh..iitcSHUU!!!!

Bless,”Jack says, as Ianto sniffs deeply, and rubs at his nose with the back of his hand, before looking back at Jack.

Sorry,” he says, but he’s not sorry...he can tell that this is a turn-on for Jack, and he is more than willing to use it.

Don’t be,” Jack answers with a wolfish grin as he moves to gather Ianto close. “When you sneeze like that... you should never be sorry.”

You like that, do you?” Ianto teases. He knows darnned well Jack does. He lets the next one build, making the most of it, breath stuttering, before he sneezes again, this time over Jack’s shoulder, and he feels Jack shudder with it.

Jack presses himself firmly up against his young lover to show him just how much he likes it.

Ianto sniffs wetly as his sinuses attempt to wash the irritation out. He he is is already building up to another sneeze, and suspects the next one will be quite wet. The tickling sensation grows into a burning ember and from there into a flaming imperative and he is scrambling for something to sneeze into, but the coverall has no pockets, and he has nothing but filthy rags. He grabs one anyway, sneezing desperately into it.

He automatically sniffs even as his brain is screaming that he’s just sucking more dust into his already hypersensitive nose, which is trying desperately to wash out the offending particles. Heh….hehhhh….hhhhhschhhooo!!! HaaCHShhhhhhhoooo!! Ihhhhhschhh!

Jack’s hand is on his shoulder, and with his other, he is pressing a clean handkerchief (thank the gods!) into Ianto’s hands, and Ianto gives in.

HnxtchCHUUU!!! Hahhh-AkShhhhhh!! K’hhhhhschhh! Sniff... Ihhhhhschhh! Hahh-AckShhhhhh!!

Ianto’s eyes are tearing, his nose is running and still, the sneezes come, insistently, desperately. They shake him bodily with the effort to expel the irritant. Heh-etcsHehSHew! Ahh..TcshSHew! Heh...TcSHSHew! Hahh..TcshSHew! ESHHH!! HAH-ESHHHTCH!!!!!!!

If Ianto is able to spare a thought at all (which is doubtful) he is probably regretting his willingness to indulge Jack.

etcsHehSHew! Ahh..TcshSHew!!!!

Jack’s young, perfectly ordered lover is certainly undone by these sneezes. And oh, yes, it is thrilling, but Jack can plainly see that this is getting out of hand. He takes Ianto by the elbow, and the younger man continues to sneeze.

I think,” Jack says, between Ianto’s sneezes, “we need to put you under a shower.”

Ianto nods, desperately.  And sneezes again.

Afterwards, they are warm and washed and spent and tangled on Jack’s camp bed. Ianto isn’t lost in a fit of uncontrolled sneezing now, but he is still sniffling. When he speaks, his voice has a nasal quality that suggests swollen and irritated sinuses. He sneezes again, and it sounds painful and congested.

Jack frowns. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Allergy meds?”

Ianto sniffs. “Bit late for that, dod’t you thidk?”

Jack frowns with concern and Ianto quickly adds, “Actually, just layig here is kide of dice”. He sneezes again.

“It is, Jack agrees.”“Thank you,” Jack says.

For what?” Ianto sniffs.

For indulging me. I really, really like your sneezes,” Jack says. “Though, you should not let yourself suffer for them.”

Ianto blows his nose, long and wet. Chokes a bit.

It’s dot….” “I dod’t bind, really.” H’Nxxt!! Well, I bead...the sdeezes thembselves, I dod’t bind. Wouldn’t bind turding off the rest of it...itchy eyes and throat and all.” He sneezes again, a tired, congested sort of sneeze.

Still, Jack pulls him close and thinks to himself they won’t be doing that again.

Ianto’s eyes are still a bit red the next morning, but he isn’t sneezing anymore, and any lingering congestion in his voice seems to disappear with the first cup of coffee. Whatever thought Jack might have otherwise given to the whole incident is almost immediately buried by the requirements of the rift for the next several days.

twtwtwtwtw

It’s Friday (Jack thinks—he really should check). It’s just gone 9:00 p.m., and the rift is finally, finally quiet. His team has gone home, to fall exhausted into their beds, or to seek release in their own ways. Except for Ianto, of course. It’s not unusual for Ianto to bring a last cup of coffee, or sometimes tea, or occasionally something else, that just he and Jack share at the end of the day, after everyone else has gone home. Jack has come to look forward to these quiet times with Ianto a great deal. So, Jack is not at all surprised when he can hear Ianto’s graceful steps nearing and he smiles. He is surprised however, to see Ianto’s tray laden not with coffee, but with a bottle of red wine, and two glasses, some cheese and crackers, and a small bouquet of roses.

What’s this?” Jack asks, intrigued, (mentally wracking his brain for some sort of missed anniversary date).

Ianto pours each of them a glass of wine, passing one to Jack before he answers. “Wine, cheese and crackers.” He extends his glass formally to Jack, who taps it lightly with his own and they each take a sip.

Are we celebrating….something?” Jack has come up empty.

Not really,” Ianto says with a smile.

Then why….?”

Oh, the cheese and crackers are because I am a bit hungry, and thought you might be, too.” Ianto says, settling comfortably into a chair on the other side of Jack’s desk, a cracker laden with cheese in one hand, the wine glass in the other. “The wine, and the roses,” he paused here and smiled. “Well, they tend to make me sneeze.”

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3 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

“The wine, and the roses,” he paused here and smiled. “Well, they tend to make me sneeze.

Oooooo this was so cute! Love it

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9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

He smiles distantly at the memory of Ianto sneezing.

I can just just see this look on Jack's face...

 

9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

He has seen Ianto sneeze before. It’s sexy, in a peculiar, buttoned-up-come-undone kind of way. Jack likes that sort of thing, seeing his perfectly starched, perfectly pressed lover, unwrapped (like a present) and undone.

This is the sexiest description ever!!! And perfect!

 

9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

Jack allows himself a moment to imagine Ianto naked, sweat streaked with dust, running over muscles, wearing a respirator. Like a fire-brigade pinup. The mental image is both ridiculous and ridiculously hot.

LOL

 

9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

And although Ianto wouldn’t think so, Jack thinks he smells deliciously of clean sweat; of a day’s honest labor.

Yum.

 

9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

He knew it was too late for him the minute Jack said his sneezes were hot. Knew he’d stay down here as long as it took to give Jack a proper show.

Indeed.

 

9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

Sorry,” he says, but he’s not sorry...he can tell that this is a turn-on for Jack, and he is more than willing to use it.

Love this. Willing to suffer a bit for his lover.

 

9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

Jack’s young, perfectly ordered lover is certainly undone by these sneezes. And oh, yes, it is thrilling, but Jack can plainly see that this is getting out of hand. He takes Ianto by the elbow, and the younger man continues to sneeze.

Mmmmm. Poor dear.

 

9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

Jack frowns. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Allergy meds?”

Ianto sniffs. “Bit late for that, dod’t you thidk?”

LOL

 

9 hours ago, Jelloicious said:

“The wine, and the roses,” he paused here and smiled. “Well, they tend to make me sneeze.”

Oh Ianto. You naughty man. Jack is certainly lucky!

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