Author: Milady Dragon
Warning: I shouldn't really have to warn for crack anymore on these, should I? Also, jealous!Andy because he's not getting any groupies, smug!Jack, and more.
Spoilers: Maybe a small one for CoE, but otherwise none.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, nor am I likely to.
Author's Note: Another one set in the On-Verse. If you haven't read xrai_namere's Captain Jack Commits Fanart, then you might be a bit confused by certain references. Oh, and any wererabbit jokes can be blamed on On Care and Feeding of Not-So-Fluffy Bunnies.
Also, written to celebrate the Ianto Jones Society...yes, if you didn't know before, it does exist now. Come and join us there if you haven't already!
Oh, and big thank you to totally4ryo for helping me out with my stroppy Ianto muse. Big hugs, hon!
Summary: Jack is acting all smug, and Ianto wants to know why.
The moment Ianto came into the main area of the Hub, he knew something was up.
Jack was bounding about, and while this was his usual way of getting from place to place, there was a certain smugness about it that raised all sorts of alarms.
And it wasn’t even smugness per se that was making Ianto suspicious; because Jack had learned smugness at the Doctor’s knee, which made Ianto consider his lover to be the Lord of Smug’s number one padawan.
No, this was different. This was at ‘I told you so’ on the smugness scale, and as far was Ianto was concerned it was one of the least attractive levels on it, right below the ‘I’m a Time Lord so I’m better than you’ mark.
It was time to nip it in the bud.
“Ianto!” His Smugness bounced up to him, grabbed his hand, and promptly twirled him then dipped the younger immortal backward, planting a very loud and very wet smacker on his lips. “How’s my gorgeous lover this wonderful afternoon?”
Ianto felt himself blushing, and he pawned it off on having the blood rushing to his head than embarrassment at the compliment. “Do you mind?” he asked tightly.
“What? Oh…” Jack pulled him upright, moving for another noisy kiss.
Ianto let him get away with it, because really there was no way he was going to turn down any sort of kiss Jack Harkness wants to give out. But as soon as his lips were free, he asked, “What’s going on?”
Jack looked surprised. “You mean…you don’t know?”
“Know what?” Ianto was a little exasperated, because it impinged on his reputation of knowing everything.
“It’s that stupid website,” Andy grumbled from his desk.
Ianto glanced at him; the former PC was looking irritated at the whole thing. “You mean the IJS?”
“Well yeah. I don’t see where certain people deserve a website and a fan club, just because they bloody died…”
Andy Davidson had made it well known that he thought the whole Ianto Jones Society was all nonsense. In a way Ianto couldn’t blame him, because he’d just been doing his job at the time, and had been in fact been fairly lackadaisical about it since his entire death could have been easily avoided by the judicious theft of one of those gas masks he’d seen at the military surplus store where he’d gotten Jack’s replacement RAF greatcoat.
Of course, if he hadn’t died, then he wouldn’t have found out he was immortal…and that he’d inherited certain physical traits from Jack that meant there was a was a standing prescription at his local chemists for one of those little pink plastic compacts that women who didn’t wish to have an unexpected surprise always had on hand. And God only knew what might have come from having all that unprotected sex he and Jack used to have.
He really needed to talk to Martha about other alternatives. He just wished he’d had over one hundred years’ worth of oestrogen built up in his body like Jack did.
But there was a larger part of him enjoying it all. He’d always considered Jack the attention whore, but Ianto had discovered in himself a need to be worshipped by middle-aged women who thought his life was horribly romantic. Oh, and Rhys and Jack, too. And his sister, of all people…it was a bit like a cult.
If he ever found out that Johnny was also a member, Ianto knew then that he’d officially taken up residence in the Twilight Zone.
“I was there too,” Andy mumbled. “But I don’t have a posse of saddo fangirls after me…”
“That’s because you weren’t captured dying on video,” Ianto said, trying to sound reasonable. “When that happens, I’m sure the ‘saddo fangirls’ will be more than willing to write completely fictional and not very imaginative stories about your sexual prowess.”
“Yeah, but I won’t be around to enjoy it!”
Ianto didn’t point out that, only by the grace of Jack misidentifying a piece of alien tech, he wouldn’t be enjoying it either.
“Andy’s just jealous,” Jack dismissed.
“I’m sure I could find pictures of you to post online…I have several from the last full moon. After all, girls love fluffy animals…”
“Don’t make me bite you again, Harkness,” Andy sniped. “Why don’t you two go do what you normally do, and let me work?”
“Yeah, you should hop to that,” Jack smirked.
Andy didn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning back to his terminal.
Time to be an adult again. “Jack, why don’t we go to your office and you tell me what’s got you so excited,” Ianto suggested.
And just like that, His Smugness returned. “I’m not all that excited…yet,” he leered.
Ianto barely resisted the eye roll. “How about you go to your office, and I’ll be in there with coffee in a few minutes?”
“Coffee can wait. I want to show you!”
Ianto’s eyebrows rose so precipitously that it felt as if they’d been subsumed into his hairline like a major earthquake sub-duction zone subsumed large portions of the sea floor. Jack…saying coffee could wait? He glanced around, waiting for the Four Horsemen to ride through the cog door and demand Jaffa Cakes…because that’s what all Angels of the Apocalypse wanted when about to destroy all life as they knew it.
They didn’t appear, and Ianto began to rethink the whole Twilight Zone thing. Perhaps he was already there, and just hadn’t realized it? Normally he wasn’t that inattentive…
Jack grabbed him by the hand and hauled him to his office, shutting the door behind them. He then pulled them around his desk, taking a seat then tugging Ianto down into his lap. Jack put an arm around the younger man in order to keep him from escaping, although that was hardly what Ianto intended. He’d never admit it, but he had a secret lap-sitting kink and last Christmas had barely resisted the urge to ask Jack to dress up as Father Christmas…
He wriggled a bit to get comfortable, and from what he was feeling against his arse he knew Jack had lied about being excited. He wriggled again, and the moan that he got was more than worth it. Maybe he could get Jack to forget about the IJS for a while…
“Stop that,” Jack growled. “If you think you’re gonna distract me like that, you have another thing coming.”
Ianto stilled. It wasn’t because Jack asked him to…it was because he was too shocked by Jack actually saying that. Coffee…and now sex? He glanced around, thinking he must have somehow fallen into Hell again and this was his worst nightmare…
Jack’s fingers – which should have been unbuttoning his shirt – were busily manipulating the mouse and keyboard of his computer, and it was only seconds before the home page for the IJS website was displayed. Ianto stifled a sigh, wondering if he was a good boy afterward Jack would take him home and ravage him.
Another click with the mouse brought up…the page announcing the nominees in the latest fan contest on the site.
Ianto knew about it, of course. They’d actually asked him to judge the competition, but he’d declined gracefully, saying that it should be up to the members to vote, and besides with his sister, lover, and several friends as members he didn’t want to be seen as biased. That had gone over well, and in fact he often wondered if that had increased his squee-ability with the fans. His inbox certainly seemed to be getting more mail from IJS members lately…
“See?” Jack exclaimed, pointing to the screen.
Ianto looked…and couldn’t help but grin. “I don’t believe it!”
“Isn’t it great?” the older immortal enthused. “The fanart I did for Never Say Die was nominated for a Best Art Award!”
Ianto was stunned, to say the least. He’d seriously laughed over Jack’s post-it art, but it really had been brilliant in a stick figury sort of way. Until that point, he’d never even considered that stick figures could have sex…and only in the deep recesses of his mind did he admit that it had been kinda hot.
Ianto leaned forward, and Jack’s arm had tightened around him reflexively. He scrolled down the page, checking out the other nominees; there were two others in the Art category: one was some sort of sci-fi Photoshop thing by a drfez11, and the other a pencil drawing by iantos_artist that had Ianto cringing at just how not-true to life it really was. His penis was much bigger than that!
“There’s no way I’m gonna lose,” Jack went on, “not with that caliber of competition! That one with the domed city…that’s so cliché! And you’d never be caught dead wearing robes like that, let alone that weird looking headdress. And the other one…your penis is much bigger than that! Makes me want to get out the tape measure and prove it to them – “
“No, Jack. We are not posting pictures of my cock online!” Ianto was scandalized by the very idea.
“Yeah, you’re right. Besides, I’ve learned my lesson with that banner…and I’ve come to realize I don’t want any of those women seeing you like that again.” He pulled Ianto back toward him, the action decidedly proprietary. “I get jealous enough by what they write about you.”
“As Brenda Williams can attest.”
“Hey! I did apologize for that.”
“Yes, you did.” Ianto twisted just enough to rest his head on Jack’s shoulder, the better to look at him. “I’m proud of you, you know.” And he was. It was a strange thing to be proud of, but Ianto was. He was also touched that Jack had done all that work for one of his stories.
What he didn’t say was that he was even more glad that it had gotten Jack away from the horrible purple prose that he’d been writing before moving on to art. Anything that accomplished that was a good thing, and Ianto meant to encourage it.
Jack’s blue eyes softened. “You are?”
“Yep. I do hope you win, but if not I’m here as a consolation prize.”
His lover looked at him seriously. “You will never, ever be a consolation prize, Ianto Jones. To me, you’re the blue ribbon. Nothing else even compares.”
For that, Ianto rewarded him.