milady_dragon (milady_dragon) wrote,

On the Art of Purple Prose

On the Art of Purple Prose
Author: Milady Dragon
Series: On-Verse
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Warning: crack!bondage (yes, I managed crack!bondage); egregious misuse of the English language, and there be smut ahead!
Spoilers: None really
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, I would have treated it better
Author's Note: Another On-Verse story.  This one is written for the Valentine's crack!fic Challenge for Long Live Ianto.  I have no idea why they thought I'd be able to write crack!fic, I mean I've never written it before... *winks*
The story takes place after my story On Nominations and Consolation Prizes and is part of the fun with the IJS and xrai_namere's IJS Verse.  Thanks also to [personal profile] moonfirefic , for showing me that worst romance novel quotes site! 

Summary:  Jack teaches Ianto a new appreciation for purple prose. 


This wasn’t quite the way Ianto had thought the evening would go.

When he had gotten back to his and Jack’s flat – Jack had left early, saying he’d needed to get a few things done before Ianto came home  – he’d found his lover in the kitchen, dinner cooking.  It was something of a secret with them, that Jack did domestic better than Ianto himself did; after all, Jack had his reputation to maintain.  The smells were heavenly, and Ianto hadn’t realized just how hungry he’d been before walking in through the door.

 At Jack’s insistence, Ianto had gone back to the bedroom to change…and had found their custom-made leather cuffs attached one each to the bed’s rather generous posts, and several of their favorite toys out and ready.

It had been very hard to get his jeans up over the near-instant erection the sight had caused.

They’d gotten through dinner, even though it had been hard to sit still knowing what Jack had set up in the bedroom.  Before meeting the older immortal, Ianto hadn’t even considered BDSM, but like pretty much everything else Jack had exposed him to it had become yet another of his many kinks.  He’d once asked Jack if he was trying to mold him into a 21st century version of a 51st century guy; Jack had laughed, commenting that once they’d actually get to the future, then Ianto could judge.

That made Ianto wonder just how many of Jack’s stories were true, and which were pure crap.

Jack had noticed Ianto’s preoccupation during the meal, and deliberately ate much slower than his usual ‘shovel it all in before it escaped his plate’ way.  Ianto had retaliated by making an erotic show of everything he put in his mouth.  Jack had sat there and simply stared, and Ianto could have sworn the man actually drooled at one point.

They were both more than ready to retire to the bedroom by the time the last forkful had been eaten.

Once again Ianto wondered if Jack had some sort of superpower that allowed him to undress the younger immortal and get him tied spread-eagled on the bed in record time.  The cock ring was also a nice touch; Ianto had excellent control, but dinner had practically been foreplay, and he wanted to last through whatever else Jack had planned.

What he hadn’t expected was for Jack – winner in the quick-strip competition, if there ever was one – to start putting all the toys away.

“Jack?” he asked, putting a little warning in his voice.

His lover simply smirked at him as he climbed between Ianto’s parted legs.  “It seems to me,” he purred, “that you haven’t shown enough respect for my writing abilities.”

Ianto raised his head as far as he could, meeting Jack’s own playful gaze.  “What do you have in mind?” he said slowly, almost afraid of the answer.

Jack leaned over Ianto’s prone body, taking his weight on his arms as he grinned down at the younger man.  “I plan on showing you just how erotic my so-called ‘purple prose’ is.”

“Jack, this isn’t funny.”  Ianto had made his share of fun over the fanfiction that Jack has posted on the IJS website, but had stopped when he’d realized just how much it had bothered his lover.  Ianto might not agree with Jack’s choice of writing style, but he didn’t want to hurt him because of it.

“I’m going to tell you exactly what I’m going to do to you,” Jack went on gleefully.  “But in my way.”

Ianto’s eyebrows went up in shocked surprise.  Jack was going to talk dirty to him…in that damned purple prose?  Any arousal he’d felt fled quickly.  God, he only hoped he could avoid laughing outright!  The last thing he wanted to do was make Jack feel bad.   “This really isn’t a good idea,” he said.

He wondered if the creators of the safe word had considered such possible scenarios when they’d come up with the idea, because in that moment Ianto was seriously thinking about using his, if just to stop Jack from making a fool out of himself. 

“I think it is.”  Jack stared into his eyes, smiling.  “I’m going to press my lips against your own soft pillowed flesh, slipping my tongue into your warm…wet…cavern…” 

He suited action to words.  Jack may have been playing about, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with the way he kissed.  Ianto moaned into it, Jack’s very talented tongue wringing that almost pitiful noise from him.  He could come from Jack’s kisses alone, and had done on several occasions.

Eventually Jack broke away, trailing his lips down toward Ianto’s ear.  “The shell-like whorls of your ear calls to me to lavish my attention on them…”  He proceeded to nibble and bite said ear, which was one of Ianto’s more sensitive erogenous zones.  While he enjoyed the attention Jack was giving it, there was that whole speaking thing that he just knew was going to throw him out of the mood.

“The warmth of your flesh is like a blanket I want to lose myself in,” Jack whispered as he licked and kissed his way down from Ianto’s ear.  “All I want is to wrap myself up in you and never leave.”

While Ianto wasn’t quite sure of the simile, the meaning was clear, and it touched him.

No, he wasn’t going to let himself get sucked in, damnit!  He really wanted to tell Jack to stop being ridiculous and fuck him already.

Ianto arched up – despite himself – when Jack swiped his tongue over his right nipple.

“Your nipples are like succulent sweetmeats to a starving man, tasting better than an all-you-can-eat buffet…”

This was surreal.  While what Jack was doing to him was very erotic, his lover seemed to be determined to ruin the moment with all that talking!  Jack could be very vocal during their lovemaking, but that didn’t have anything to do with strange descriptions of his anatomy.

But then, Ianto actually began to listen.

It wasn’t the words, as Jack proceeded to explain to him what was going on in the oddest similes and metaphors imaginable.  It was the tone of voice that told Ianto everything he needed to know about how Jack felt.  That husky whisper; the small breathy sounds as he kissed down Ianto’s body…in fact, he didn’t even mind when Jack called his navel a ‘honey-filled hole that his tongue enjoyed swimming in’, even though if he’d read that on paper he would have laughed out loud. 

No, because it suddenly didn’t matter that Jack had him helpless in their bed, murmuring his purple phrases into Ianto’s skin. 

What mattered was, that Jack was there. 

 That his lover was practically worshipping him as he came up with the most outrageous things to call Ianto’s elbow.  That Jack was taking time to touch and to arouse and to treat Ianto like he was some sort of treasure. 

Even when Jack was saying things like Ianto’s ‘scent causing a fever in his brain’ and that ‘his darkened cave would soon be opened for his pleasure’ the younger man knew that, for some strange reason, Jack had decided that these words were his way of describing just what Ianto meant to him, although it was certainly a weird way of doing it.

 He wondered what the bodice-rippers of the 51st century were like, and if Jack had ever read any of them.

Ianto paid more attention to the sensation of Jack’s mouth on him, if it was ‘caressing his quivering thighs’ or ‘laving the perfect roundness of his man-sack’.  The ‘throbbing purple rod of need’ almost sent him giggling, but Jack brought him back on track with his oh-so talented tongue as it lapped up his ‘salty-sweet essence that was like ambrosia to a parched man’. 

And then Jack’s fingers went ‘spelunking in his cavern’ to stroke that ‘place within from which all pleasure flowed’, that was the last straw.

“Take me,” Ianto nearly screamed.  “Take me with your pulsing hot love muscle!  Send me over the abyss into purest pleasure!”

He would have been mortified if he’d said that in front of anyone else.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack answered.  And, if Ianto had expected the older man to gloat or grin at his slip, then he was very much mistaken.

The cock ring came off.  So did the gloves.

Jack proceeded to do just as Ianto had asked, panting as he thrust his ‘vibrating man-meat’ deep into Ianto’s ‘tight channel of pleasure’, hitting Ianto’s ‘sex button’ with each stroke, until each man spilled their ‘vital, life-giving seed’ as they soared on the ‘crest of greatest passion’.

They both came down from their post-coital high, Jack curling up against Ianto’s side with a contented purr.  Ianto wanted to return the cuddle, but was still tied to the bed.  “Um…Jack?”

Jack hummed questioningly.

“You can untie me now.”

Jack hummed again, this time with a definite negative tone.

“Come on, Jack…”

Jack hummed once more, in an even stronger negative.

“Jack, will you please untie me?” 

Jack sighed, rising just enough to release Ianto’s right hand from the leather cuff.  Ianto finished the rest, collapsing back onto the bed after uncuffing his ankles.  “Why didn’t you want to untie me?”

“Was too comfortable.  Besides, I was kinda afraid you might kill me.”

Ianto turned on his side, the better to entangle himself around Jack’s body.  “Why would I do that?”

He felt Jack shrug, as the older immortal twisted himself around Ianto.  There was times when he thought that he and Jack were a pair of octopi, when they were in bed together and after great sex.

Ianto chuckled softly.  “I’m not mad, just confused.  Although…’throbbing purple rod of need’?  Really?”

An answering chuckle vibrated through their joined bodies.  “It worked, didn’t it?”

Ianto wasn’t willing to admit to it, since it was just so silly.  “Jack, I’m warning you though…if I find this on that damned website, I’m swearing off sex with you for at least a decade.  Am I clear?”

A shiver ran through his lover.  “Don’t worry, this was for private consumption only.  Although, you have to admit, you did get off on it!”

“I’ll admit no such thing!”

“’Pulsing hot love muscle’ ring any bells?”

“I was…playing along with your fantasy.”

“Yeah…sure.”  Jack sounded downright smug.  Not quite Doctor-level smug, but close.

“This doesn’t mean I’m going to start liking your stories any better.”

The older man snorted.  “Perish the thought.”

Ianto smiled into Jack’s hair.  He wasn’t about to admit his revelations during their bout of lovemaking.  He already knew how Jack felt about him; had known for a while. 

Although he couldn’t wait to get to the 51st century to see just what that time’s version of a bodice-ripper was, and if Jack had indeed read them.

And if they were as bad as Ianto thought.


Tags: on the art of purple prose, on-verse, torchwood
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