#fairytalesandfolklore torchwood

[fairytales-and-folklore]

The Captain and the Tea Boy

Torchwood » Jack x Ianto

Title: The Captain and the Tea Boy

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Torchwood (Masterlist)

Relationship: Ianto Jones x Jack Harkness

AO3 Rating: Mature (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: Out of everyone on the Torchwood team, Jack is the only one who truly notices and appreciates Ianto Jones.

Two little red and black cups of coffee stood next to one another on the wooden table, their handles barely touching. Ianto knew the routine well enough by now. Jack took his coffee black. Simple. Rich. Pure. It was something he would never come to understand, but like everything else, Ianto simply accepted it as it was. He stood there, moving the mugs back and forth in a shaky daze, scraping the ceramic against the wood and over-thinking the simple concept of the placement of coffee mugs on a table. Handles. Heat. Touching. Hinting. Subtlety is key. Subtlety is unattainable. Ianto rolled his eyes and groaned. He was being ridiculous. Just because the handles are touching does not mean he'll take it as an invitation for a shag.

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Two little red and black cups of coffee stood next to one another on the wooden table, their handles barely touching. Ianto knew the routine well enough by now. Jack took his coffee black. Simple. Rich. Pure. It was something he would never come to understand, but like everything else, Ianto simply accepted it as it was. He stood there, moving the mugs back and forth in a shaky daze, scraping the ceramic against the wood and over-thinking the simple concept of the placement of coffee mugs on a table.

Handles. Heat. Touching. Hinting. 

Subtlety is key. 

Subtlety is unattainable.

Ianto rolled his eyes and groaned. He was being ridiculous. Just because the handles are touching does not mean he'll take it as an invitation for a shag. A furious blush settled into his cheeks at the thought of it, and his hands slipped, shaking the fragile little world inside the coffee cup, its contents cascading over the sides and onto his hands. Cursing lightly, Ianto licked the coffee from his blistering fingers and grabbed a tea towel to mop up the mess.

He couldn't help it. He'd never been in this situation before. Realistically, there had never been need nor opportunity for it, as they were constantly surrounded by their colleagues. Today, of course, had been different. Gwen had invited everyone out to a new Italian restaurant that had opened up the week before. Jack had declined, mumbling something about wanting to research the migration habits of Weevils. Tosh had contemplated staying as well, until Owen had decided to attend.

Ianto simply hadn't been invited. No one ever invited the Tea Boy.

As the minutes ticked on, it became obvious that by the time Jack found his way to the kitchen, his coffee would be cold and bitter. Ianto sighed, threw the tea towel into the hamper, and carefully lifted the mugs, trying his hardest to keep his hands from shaking. One man really shouldn't be worth this much trouble. Then again, one man shouldn't have the luxury of intelligence, immortality and enthralling mystery all in one handsome container. 

Ianto slowly took the stairs to Captain Jack's office, over-analyzing the pace of his steps, and wondering idly how someone attempting to maintain complete nonchalance and composure should sound when walking up the stairs for an unwarranted coffee delivery. Distracted, he missed a step, but the splash of searing hot coffee did not miss his trouser leg.

Ianto bit his lip, fighting back the urge to let slip a fresh string of curses, but he held his tongue. Composure. Must keep composure. He forced his lips into a smile and stumbled across the threshold. Jack did not immediately look up when Ianto came in, stood in front of his desk, and placed the mug of coffee a few inches from his right hand, and so Ianto simply stood there, bouncing idly on the balls of his feet, and clutching his little red cup of confectioned coffee in his hands. 

After a few moments of disgruntled silence, he cleared his throat. He hadn't meant to do it to attract attention, and he was about to say so, to mumble something stupid, when Jack looked up at him. The Captain's sharp, brilliant blue eyes pierced his, and the words fell from his mind with all the force of a shattered coffee mug.

"Ianto, Hi. Sorry, I'm a bit immersed in this," Jack said with a hint of frustration. Ianto said nothing in return, the connection between his lips and his brain perfectly severed. Jack tilted his head to the side in concern, scrutinizing Ianto's face.

"You okay?" he asked. 

Ianto blinked quite a few times and then shook his head.

"Um. Hello," he said, feeling like an outdated browser.

"Sorry, sir. I've just come to bring you coffee," he finally caught up, offering his own mug to Jack. The Captain's eyes roved between the black cup on his desk and the little red cup cradled in Ianto's outstretched hands. He chuckled softly, took a sip from his mug and closed his eyes, delighting in its taste. This was the reason that they had placed Ianto in charge of their coffees and teas: he made everything taste like perfection.

"Thank you," Jack said, placing the cup back down on the table and resuming his research. After a few moments of embarrassed silence, Ianto turned to leave, his stomach sinking in anti-climactic defeat as he trudged toward the door. It was stupid of him to think that he might win Jack's affections with one sad little cup of coffee on their first hour alone, but the moment Ianto heard Jack say his name, he had turned on his heel and rushed back through the door. Ianto looked up at him eagerly, forgetting the importance of not wanting to look too keen, when Jack simply said, "You know, you don't need to call me 'sir'."

Ianto nodded and mumbled an apology, but Jack interrupted him.

"In fact," he said. "I don't like it. It makes me uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry, sir," Ianto began, shaking his head and then murmuring a simple, "Sorry."

Jack pursed his lips, but chose to say nothing.

"I should go, I suppose," Ianto decided, tilting his head toward the door.

"Could you stay, actually? I could use your help with something," Jack said.

Ianto's heart leapt at the way Jack's eyes roamed over him, his irises dilating as he took in the fine fabric of Ianto's pinstriped suit. Without warrant, as it always did, the Captain's devilish voice slipped into his mind: And this is Ianto Jones. Ianto cleans up after us and gets us everywhere on time. And he looks good in a suit. Over the past few months, Ianto had spent far more than what was entirely necessary on expensive suits and ties. Today, he wore a soft red silken number, tucked into a black jacket and a button-down shirt. 

Jack wore his usual: a blue button-down with ruffled sleeves rolled up to his elbows, unreasonably flattering trousers, and brown leather boots. His fantastic overcoat had been slung over his chair in a careless manner. Jack motioned for Ianto to come closer, and he moved carefully, inching his way across the room until he stood a good ten centimeters behind Jack's swivel chair. He placed his little red mug on the table next to Jack's, careful not to let the handles touch.

"Now, get a good look at this. I've measured the stream of rift activity, closely following the increase in Weevil sightings," he began, tracing the patterns on the screen with his fingertips, occasionally placing them to his lips as he searched for the right words, driving forth his convoluted explanation, so that Ianto could understand the obvious brilliance of what he'd just uncovered. It was a pity that Ianto had stopped listening two seconds in. His eyes were set on Jack's soft, pink lips as they moved in rhythm, the way his hands swept across his dimpled chin in contemplation.

"And so I get the feeling that— Ianto, are you listening?" Jack asked suddenly, swiveling around to face him, his knees brushing against Ianto's. Ianto cleared his throat, plunging his hands into the pockets of his trousers, and nodded quickly. Jack's expression was torn between irritation and amusement as he pressed his tongue against his front teeth and studied Ianto's awkward demeanor. 

"Have the others come back yet?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Not to my knowledge," Ianto said slowly.

Jack's lips twisted into a brilliant smile and he clutched the arms of his chair, propelling himself upward, until he stood mere centimeters from Ianto's face. Ianto instinctively moved a few paces backward, but Jack caught him by the wrists and pulled Ianto into his chest. He could feel the Captain's breath against his lips, could almost taste him.

"Why didn't they invite you along?" he asked, his voice calm and concerned.

"I…I don't know. They don't see me as one of them, I suppose. After all, I'm just the tea boy." 

Ianto forced a smile, carefully avoiding Jack's scrutinizing stare.

"It doesn't matter," he added, confused by the pained expression on Jack's face.

"Yes, it does. Of course it matters," Jack said, moving closer until he was pressed right up against Ianto's chest.

"Because you, Ianto Jones," Jack breathed, letting the words spill from his lips as though they were a delicacy. "Are one of the most wonderful, important men I've ever met."

Ianto tried to speak, his lips parted in preparation for a response that danced around denial and modesty, when Jack's mouth interrupted him, curious and urgent. He wrapped his arms around Ianto's waist, drawing him closer, grasping the fabric of his jacket, as Ianto wove his fingers through Jack's disheveled brown hair. After a few moments, Jack broke the connection with one last delicate, lingering kiss, chucking softly as he pulled away. A wicked grin spread across his face at the sight of the shock he'd just given Ianto, whose lips still clung to their last pout. 

It was over much too soon, leaving Ianto with the distinct feeling that he'd just been given a pity kiss. Ianto hesitated for a fraction of a second before thrusting Jack against the wall of his office and grinding his hips into Jack's. If this was all he was ever going to get, he might as well make it count. The Captain responded with equal fervor, grasping a fistful of Ianto's tie and pulling him closer, crushing his lips to Ianto's. 

Two little red and black cups of coffee crashed to the floor as Jack shoved Ianto onto his desk, gripping the edges and trapping Ianto between his torso and the grooved mahogany. Jack moved impatiently, loosening Ianto's tie and nearly ripping the little black buttons clean off of his shirt as he threw it mercilessly to the floor. It was all a bit dizzying, and it was happening much too quickly for Ianto's liking. He needed to make this stolen moment between them last as long as he possibly could.

Ianto caught Jack's hands in his and pushed him back gently, smiling softly and brushing his fingers across Jack's jawline. He traced the light pattern of freckles across the bridge of Jack's nose with his lips, placing soft, little kisses along his forehead and cheekbones. Ianto closed his eyes, lingering in the comfort of Jack's embrace, delighting in the way Jack laughed against his lips. The Captain moved for the hemline of Ianto's trousers, teasing the sensitive skin across his hips, but Ianto grimaced and pulled away.

"Jack, I need to— please," Ianto begged, breathless and confused. 

"I'm sorry. Do you want— should I stop?" Jack asked, disappointment lacing every word as he began backing away from Ianto, hoping he hadn't pushed him too far.

"No, please don't…I just…this might be it, and I…I want to make this last…in case you only wanted me just this once."

Jack sighed in relief, shaking his head slowly as a smile spread across his lips.

"Ianto," he whispered, cupping his face gently and pulling him into a delicate kiss. "It'd break my heart if this only happened once."

Ianto's lips broke into a ridiculous grin as he gripped Jack by the collar of his button-down and pulled him into an impassioned embrace. Jack moved against him slowly, deepening the kiss, his arms winding around Ianto's shoulders to keep him steady. After a few moments, Ianto broke away, leaving Jack flustered and confused. A devilish smirk crossed Ianto's face, and Jack pouted as Ianto teased him in a truly deplorable manner, releasing the Captain from his trousers and ruffled blue shirt one little white button at a time. 

Jack growled into Ianto's chest as he moved against him, leaving a trail of kisses from Ianto's forehead to the base of his throat, before nuzzling into his neck and grazing his teeth across Ianto's skin. Jack was rewarded with a spectacular moan as Ianto gripped Jack's shoulders, thrusting him downward. But Jack refused, remaining suspended above him, his eyes penetrating Ianto's with a feral need, their chests colliding against one another's with every new breath. 

Ianto waited impatiently for the return of Jack's lips against his, his eyes hungrily taking in the gorgeous curves of his torso as Jack lingered above him, when a cacophony of excited voices from the level below ripped them from their magnificent little world. Footsteps echoed across the corridors, coming ever closer, as the two men reluctantly pulled away from one another, searching the floor for forgotten bits of clothing, and carelessly shrugging their shirts over their shoulders. 

By the time that Gwen, Owen and Toshiko reached the threshold of Jack's office, Ianto was flustered and only half-dressed, his red silk tie hanging loosely around his neck, and his lazily unbuttoned trousers dangling around his waist. Jack, meanwhile, stood there with his hands on his hips, proudly brandishing his naked chest at his colleagues.

"Well, hello, boys," Gwen chimed from the doorway, more amused than shocked.

"Just came up to bring you back our leftovers. Thought you could use a bit of a break. After all, you've both been working so hard," Owen smirked, emphasizing the last word in particular, and nudged Tosh in the ribcage. Tosh frowned and raised her eyebrows, completely at a loss for a proper reaction.

"Weevils!" Ianto suddenly shouted, breathless and shaky, his voice cracking an octave higher than necessary. The three of them just stared at him in blank amusement.

"Mating…no, sorry, migration habits…of…of…" Jack began, surveying his co-workers as they stood there in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, waiting for a proper explanation as to why two shattered coffee mugs lined the hardwood floor. Jack rolled his eyes and picked up his coffee-soaked shirt, frowning and wringing it out.

"Look, I needed Ianto for a special project," he said, swinging his button-down over his left shoulder.

"Obviously," Gwen murmured. "Well, come on then, let's leave the boys to their business," she added, slinging her arms around Owen's and Tosh's shoulders and leading them from the room, the three of them giggling uncontrollably as they shut the door behind them. Ianto sighed in relief as he buttoned up his trousers, tucking his coffee-stained shirt back into the hemline. He glanced toward the door every so often, watching Jack carefully as he picked up the shattered remnants of the coffee mugs and placed them back on his desk. Ianto took the pieces and motioned to leave as well, but Jack pulled him back, catching him in a kiss that made it perfectly clear that Jack had no intention of ever letting Ianto go.

"So," he prompted. "Are you busy tonight?"

Ianto shook his head, a smile slowly spreading across his face as he replied, "You need my expertise of Weevil mating patterns to finish our conversation?"

"Of course," Jack said with a devilish smirk.

"And maybe," he added, adjusting Ianto's tie and smoothing the creases he'd made in the soft, silken fabric. "You'd like to spend our lunch hour together from now on? Every day, around the same time? I'm thinking about installing a lock on my office door."

Ianto chuckled softly as Jack pressed an affectionate kiss to his lips.

"But seriously," he whispered. "You really are wonderful. Please don't ever forget that."

Ianto smiled brilliantly, and turned to leave before the blush set in, knowing perfectly well that productivity would be impossible now that Jack would occupy his every thought until the moment they met again.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

The Captain and The Oncoming Storm

Doctor Who » Eleven x Jack

Title: The Captain and The Oncoming Storm

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Doctor Who (Masterlist) x Torchwood (Masterlist)

Relationship: The Eleventh Doctor x Captain Jack Harkness

AO3 Rating: Explicit 18+ (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: Captain Jack Harkness thinks he's all alone in his little corner of the TARDIS with his antique typewriter and his not-so-secret dirty thoughts…until the Doctor walks in on him writing smut about the pair of them.

Jack leans down and kisses his neck, delighting in the exotic taste of the Doctor's skin beneath his curious tongue, the exotic newness of this brand new regeneration, this ancient amateur, this phenomenal god… "…this thoroughly fuckable oncoming storm?" the Doctor's voice resonates over Jack's left shoulder, and Jack jumps clean out of his chair, nearly smashing the antique typewriter to bits. 

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The Doctor moans softly as Captain Jack Harkness curves his fingers over his conquest's bulging member, pulsating beneath a tweed-clad prison. The Doctor begs, through mouthfuls of gasping breath, for Jack to take him, and the good Captain complies…but not, of course, without a bit of teasing first. 

Jack's tongue penetrates the Doctor's mouth, dancing in between his soft, pouting lips and exploring every inch of the Doctor's sweet fortress, while curling his fingers into his waistband and tugging lightly, earning an impatient growl from the Doctor.

In a matter of seconds, he's released the caged beast from its prison, wrapping his lips around the Doctor's large, quivering member, and taking it fully into his mouth. The Doctor thrusts forward, needing to feel more of the impassioned warmth of the Captain's mouth around himself, dipping his head backward in a rush of ecstasy as the Captain swallows him whole. 

The Doctor's fingers weave into Jack's exquisitely soft and fashionably styled hair, gripping onto him as though he fears that the Captain will disappear into nothing more than majestic phantasmagoria if he lets go for even a single second.

Once the Captain is certain that he's brought the Doctor to the very edge, he disengages, letting the Doctor's member pull from his mouth, leaving it wet and erect against his leg, earning an earnest whine from the Doctor. 

Jack chuckles darkly, rising to meet the Doctor's pleading gaze, penetrating and longing, as a wicked smile graces his lips. Captain Jack pulls the Doctor's delightfully innocent face toward his, embracing him in a passionate kiss, threading his fingers through the Doctor's hair.

Impatient to feel Jack's intoxicating warmth against his own, the Doctor rips the shirt clean off of Jack's chest, delighting in the sight of his finely-chiseled chest and torso. Unable to contain himself, the Doctor swirls his tongue along the curves of the Captain's chest, wanting…no, needing to taste every inch of him as his tongue glides the length of this venerable canvas of perfection.

The Doctor's mouth discovers the threshold where Jack's trousers meet his skin, and he pauses, if only for a moment. He takes his time, teasing the Captain in return as he unbuttons his trousers, one at a time. But the Captain is patient. He's been waiting to feel the Doctor beneath him for centuries now, and he knows it'll be well worth the wait. 

The Doctor's lips are back on the Captain's before his trousers even hit the floor, and then he's moving against Jack with wild abandon, cupping his extremely fit bare bottom and pulling him impossibly closer, their trembling members colliding in uncontainable anticipation as they dance against one another.

The Captain finds the little red bowtie at the base of the Doctor's throat and takes it between his teeth, feeling the Doctor shiver beneath him as his dazzling, perfectly white teeth graze the Doctor's delicate skin. 

Within mere moments, his talented mouth has loosened the Doctor's precious bowtie, now just visible between Jack's teeth. Jack moves to meet the Doctor's lips, exchanging the bowtie to its rightful holder. 

Captain Jack gives the Doctor one swift, reassuring kiss before bending him over against the controls of the TARDIS console, taking the Doctor's hands and positioning them behind his back, effectively cuffing the Doctor's wrists in his capable hands. 

The Captain pauses, his massive, throbbing member grazing the Doctor's naked bottom in sweet, torturous temptation. The Doctor whimpers, a mere muffle against the fabric of the bowtie caught between his lips as he brushes backward against Jack's member, inviting him forward, needing to feel Jack against him in every way imaginable. 

Jack leans down and kisses his neck, delighting in the exotic taste of the Doctor's skin beneath his curious tongue, the exotic newness of this brand new regeneration, this ancient amateur, this phenomenal god…

"…this thoroughly fuckable oncoming storm?" the Doctor's voice resonates over Jack's left shoulder, and Jack jumps clean out of his chair, nearly smashing the antique typewriter to bits. 

A furious blush creeps into his cheeks as Jack stares wide-eyed at the Doctor, wishing that he could melt into a puddle of his own embarrassment and forget that this had ever happened. But there isn't enough Retcon in existence to make the Doctor forget that he'd just stumbled into the darkest confines of Captain Jack's brain. 

The Doctor pauses for a fraction of a second, his features expressionless as he calculates an appropriate reaction to the delightful new discovery he's just made, before his lips curve into a positively manic smile and he bursts out laughing. 

As his laughter subsides into breathless giggles, he gives Jack a once-over, noting Jack's unbearably flushed cheeks, the aching bulge in his trousers, and the scattered pages of personal insight cluttering the floor of Jack's TARDIS bedroom. 

With a lighthearted sigh and a casual shrug of his shoulders, the Doctor moves to pick up the typewriter and gently places it back on Jack's writing desk, before strolling to the edge of the doorframe. He's nearly thrown himself from the room when he doubles back, a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Honestly, Jack," he muses, his eyes flashing wickedly. "I've read better in Amy's diary."

The Doctor chuckles jovially as he saunters across the threshold and returns to his afternoon tinkering, leaving Jack standing there, positively dumbfounded, with a permanent blush and a distaste for silent floorboards.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Torchwood Fanfiction Masterlist

A collection of Torchwood fan fiction written by yours truly. Fics are listed in order from newest to oldest.

✨ main fanfiction masterlist ✨

Lords, Gods, and Madmen (AO3 | Tumblr)

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up | Fandoms: BBC Sherlock x Doctor Who x Marvel x Supernatural x Torchwood | Summary: A time lord, a consulting criminal, and the god of mischief walk into a mansion…

The Captain and The Tea Boy (AO3 | Tumblr)

AO3 Rating: Mature | Relationship: Ianto Jones x Jack Harkness | Summary: Out of everyone on the Torchwood team, Jack is the only one who truly notices and appreciates Ianto Jones.

The Captain and The Oncoming Storm (AO3 | Tumblr)

AO3 Rating: Explicit (18+) | Relationship: The Eleventh Doctor x Captain Jack Harkness | Summary: Captain Jack Harkness thinks he's all alone in his little corner of the TARDIS with his antique typewriter and his not-so-secret dirty thoughts…until the Doctor walks in on him writing smut about the pair of them.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

fairytalesandfolklore fanfiction masterlist

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