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Ianto halted abruptly just as he walked into Jack’s office with two coffees rattling on his silver tray, his jaw open as he stared. Jack sat at his desk naked even thought it was only eight in the morning and the others would be in the office within the hour. His eyes traveled up and down Jack’s body before settling on two specific objects on his desk.
One object in particular startled Ianto so much he stumbled as the tray slipped from his grip; the coffee cups crashing to the ground, breaking and spilling coffee all over the floor.
Ropes.
He talked with Jack weeks ago about wanting to try new things, about wanting, no needing, to be tied up and helpless. He wanted to be able to let go but he thought Jack forgot about it or that they would at least talk some more before anything actually happened.
Instead, he walked in this morning on a normal work day performing his normal routine just to see a bundle of ropes on Jack’s desk.
Mind on automatic, he was about to turn and get some towels to clean the mess when Jack stood up and sauntered over. Gently, he grabbed Ianto’s bicep mid-flight and turned his body so they were gazing into each others’ eyes. He spoke softly and gently but with an undercurrent of strength, “I gave the others a day off today since the rift predictor predicted a quiet day; thought we could explore that fantasy of yours.”
Ianto gulped audibly, shock starting to wear off as fear, apprehension, and panic replaced it. Jack must have seen it in his eyes because he cupped Ianto’s cheek with his hand to steady and ground him. Ianto leaned into the warmth as Jack spoke again, “What’s your safeword?”
Safeword, yes… that was an easy answer, “Myfawny.” The one word that meant he could regain control within seconds knowing that Jack would stop. He’d always stop.
He tested the safeword the first time they played together. It was nothing much, just a mild over the lap spanking. Ianto’s didn’t need to use it but he used it anyway. He felt bad about testing Jack but he needed to know that Jack would stop, even if he said it when nothing seemed wrong or when their play wasn’t rough. Jack stopped. No questions asked no disappointment, no anger; just an undercurrent of worry.
Uttering that one word centered him and pushed the uncomfortable feelings deep down inside. They weren’t completely gone, not yet, he could still feel the panic and fear simmering under the surface, but he could do this… at least he would try.
They had only ever used handcuffs before, the kind with a safety latch that Ianto could release whenever he wanted.
He was as scared of restraints as fascinated by them.
Ianto prided himself on control; control over his environment, those around him, and his self-image; control over everything. He knew his OCD tendencies were deeply rooted in the very same desire to maintain control.
Ropes meant no safety latch, they meant no control whatsoever (except for the safeword, the one word Jack would always honor). He was terrified of losing that control and yet… he wanted it. He needed to have nothing left in his head but just be… exist. He craved it like a drowning man craved air.
Jack kept the connection with his cheek helping Ianto focus on his words, “Don’t worry about getting this cleaned. I will take care of it. I will take care of you. Do you trust me?”
Looking into Jack’s brilliant blue eyes he saw the years behind them hanging heavily dragging down his Captain’s soul. The man who traveled the stars in space and time, the man who always came back from the dead thrust back into life in an out of control spiral of life and death was trapped on this backwater planet. That same man stared back at him with pleading eyes.
Knowing about Ianto’s fear after they first discussed restraints Jack never pushed him into trying anything outside his comfort level. But the drained look in his Captain’s eyes told him that as much as Ianto needed to lose himself and just be, Jack needed this too; he needed control.
Jack waited patiently as Ianto scrunched his forehead in thought; they spent many minutes standing silently, Jack’s hand still warming his cheek as Ianto processed.
Searching the intense look in the time weathered eyes, Ianto realized what Jack needed was something given freely, like a gift. He didn’t need someone to order around loudly, sternly, harshly; he did that as the Torchwood Captain everyday and they were (mostly) followed.
Always worried about losing those closest to him, Jack needed to find that place inside his mind where he could care for others (Ianto) without thinking or worrying about his immortality.
With the understanding came determination, they both needed this and he would fight through his panic, “Always, unconditionally.”
It seemed that all the tension left Jack’s body at those words and in turn it caused Ianto to let go of his. He had his safeword and more importantly he had his Jack. He would just follow orders and be fine.
Jack’s hand left his cheek and trailed down the arm to grab his hand, entwining their fingers together. Silently Jack led Ianto through his office, picking up the rope and cane on the way.
Oh, the cane. The rope shocked him so much that he forgot about that one.
Ianto liked pain; he’d been caned before by Jack and quite enjoyed it. But it dawned on him that Jack would do it while he was tied, helpless, vulnerable. Panic started to rise again and Ianto had to soothe it down, he liked the cane (ok, maybe not liked, liked it but liked how it made him feel after, loved the sting and burn, loved the subspace).
They stopped at the top of Jack’s quarters, “Go down the ladder, strip and fold your clothes, then lay down on the bed on your back.”
Dry throat, Ianto couldn’t get a word out, his mind crashing around him as he even forgot how to nod. So he did the only thing he could at the moment, he followed orders.
His body was abuzz with prickly sensations traveling through the nerves as he felt numb and light at the same time. Mind unable to focus he kept repeating Jack’s instructions like a silent litany inside his mind.
He stripped away his suit piece by piece leaving him vulnerable without his armor. Stacked and neatly folded, he silently thanked Jack because right now he couldn’t function without a direct order.
The image of ropes still burned clearly in his mind as he walked naked towards the bed. His cock already half hard as his nipples hardened in the cold air.
Laying himself down above the covers he stared up at the stained concrete ceiling above. Normally he’d be making a list of cleaning products he could try on it but right now he just marveled at the shape, tracing its contours with his eyes.
Lost within the moment he never noticed Jack until his Captain was touching his cheek again, “Good Ianto.”
The smile and praise in Jack’s voice pushed the terror down some more as the warmth from the touch spread through every limb. He needed this and it would be… be okay. Actually, it’d be better than okay because every time Jack asked him to push a boundary turned out marvelous. Jack beamed as a shy smile slipped onto Ianto’s face.
His Captain proceeded to caress (almost) every inch of Ianto’s body; moving his hands down his shoulders, nuzzling at his hairy chest, bypassing his straining cock to move down to his thighs, calves, and then feet. Every slow, tender touch melted Ianto deeper into the bed, the panic now somewhere deep down inside far away from the surface.
He merely allowed himself to feel.
Slowly Jack’s hands drifted and massaged back up, still avoiding the massive erection, until he reached Ianto’s fingertips. Slowly he raised Ianto’s arm above his head and Ianto, unthinking, stayed in the position. Jack moved on to the second arm, starting at the shoulder, and massaged down to the fingertips; then raised the second arm above Ianto’s head moving it up so his wrists touched each other lightly.
Calm, relaxed, almost as if he’d dissolved into the mattress, Ianto saw Jack lift the rope and slowly bring it over to his wrists. He thought he’d panic but his body buzzed with pleasure and lost to it he just spared a glance at the rope before returning back to that delicious place in his mind.
Jack touched his wrists with his fingers first, circling them around with his index finger and thumb meeting on the other side. Ianto felt the warmth around them and mewled with want. Jack delicately but tightly fastened the rope around one wrist, then around the headboard, before restraining the second wrist. The Captain then inserted his index finger between each wrist and rope checking the tightness.
Ianto felt a squeeze to his fingers and he squeezed back recognizing this as Jack’s seeking confirmation that he was still there and able to use his safeword (comfort) if necessary.
Again, Jack moved down his body massaging all the muscles starting at the now bound wrists. He massaged down the arms, then shoulders, chest (pausing to play with Ianto’s thick hair and hard nipples), omitting the straining cock as he proceeded to the thighs and then calves. When Jack arrived at the ankles, he circled around each one with his fingers pressing down on the area right above the protruding ankle bones.
Fear rose up in Ianto as he realized that his ankles would be bound as well but he thought through it. He needed Jack to take control away, he needed this.
Rising fear turned to a flutter in his abdomen as Jack grabbed his ankle and gently lifted his whole leg up folding him in two. Looking up Ianto saw his Captain wind the silky rope around it before attacking it to the headboard above his head. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever been in this position (although never bound before) so Ianto concentrated on the familiar feeling of being delightfully fucked this way as Jack thrust into him balls deep. He imagined Jack’s gorgeous face staring down at him with those brilliant blue eyes as the 51st century, time traveling, immortal man came undone sheaved inside of him, an insignificant Welshman.
Lost to his fantasy, Ianto didn’t realize when his second ankle was restrained in the same manner to the headboard. Surprised, he started pulling on the bindings in alarm. Jack was at his side in seconds, hand splayed comfortingly on his cheek again, “Ianto? Say your safeword to stop or tell me you’re ok.” He increased the strength of his grip on the panicked, struggling man as his voice trembled with worry, “If you don’t tell me you’re okay in thirty seconds I’m cutting through the ropes and we’re done for the evening.”
Hearing Jack’s voice in the distance he tried to make his way back to reality, the warm hand on his cheek pulling him back. Myfawny, safeword, no, he didn’t need it. He just needed a moment, “M’fine.”
“Are you sure?” Concern washed over him and brought him back to safety. Jack wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him; he was there and in control and if Ianto could just trust that and give in everything would be okay. And he did trust Jack, trusted him with everything.
Calm settled back over his soul as he smiled at the worried man above him, his voice strong and confidant as he spoke this time, “Promise, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
Seemingly satisfied with Ianto’s answer, Jack’s hands started caressing his body again but still avoided the places where Ianto really wanted to be touched.
Before drifting back into his peaceful state, Ianto was enough aware to realize just how vulnerable this position was, even more exposed than being bent over Jack’s desk. His hard cock bounced in the air covered in pre-come, balls exposed and on display, arse in a position for whipping or fucking (or both) as Jack pleased and… Ianto blushed deep red.
His Captain could access every single vulnerable spot on his body and give it pleasure or pain as he was tied up and unable to escape. Except that, surprisingly, he didn’t want to escape. Not now, not ever.
He melted into his restraints suddenly wanting more, anything, and everything. He craved both pleasure and pain so he moaned loudly and obscenely.
Jack’s caresses paused at his sudden display of wonton need as the Captain chuckled. The loss of the hands touching his body made Ianto moan louder, hips moving up into the air as much as they could move, thrusting his cock frustratingly into nothingness.
Then Jack’s warm hands were on his arse roughly kneading and scratching at the skin. Ianto settled down but continued to moan in pleasure even as the first smacks fell down sharply.
The heat from Jack’s hands flowed and spread all over his body covering his arse and thighs, the wonderful burn increasing as more blows rained down. Ianto was lost in this need and want to feel now, now, now. Blow by blow he tried to open up his body to Jack even more but he couldn’t move and…
He couldn’t move.
Realization dawned that he couldn’t move, couldn’t help and couldn’t stop, he really couldn’t move.
Jack knew what he needed as more smacks reddened his arse and he settled his body back into the mattress just taking, taking and not feeling guilty about it, taking and enjoying. All the guilt he ever felt about asking for what he needed faded because he didn’t ask, he couldn’t, and Jack still obliged him. He melted back into the bed, into the bindings, even as his moans mixed in with cries of pain and sobs but… he was free, finally free.
His mind lifted off flying high on some other plane of existence.
His body lay bound to a headboard on a bed in an underground bunk of an underground secret alien fighting base.
His soul soared through the stars and galaxies; no guilt, no remorse, no sorrow, no worries, no alien invasions, just the beauty of the universe at his fingertips.
Soothing hands on his bottom brought him back down to reality, not completely, but enough to focus on Jack, his beautiful Jack with his smiling eyes. He marveled at how young the Captain looked as if all his years were stripped away. He loved seeing that look, like he was soaring in the sky right along Ianto’s side.
And he didn’t want it to be over, not yet. He wanted to feel Jack flying right next to him. He needed Jack, Jack, Jack…
The Captain must have noticed the distress on his face because he placed his hand on his cheek again, “Talk to me Ianto.”
He needed Jack… just Jack… more Jack, “Jack… more.” The words hurt his sore throat but he needed Jack to know he didn’t want to stop, not yet.
As if understanding everything he couldn’t voice Jack smiled and squeezed his bound fingers before coming back with the cane.
Yes, yes, yes, yes… screamed Ianto on the inside. But his body remained glued to the bed, settled in submission, even as his eyes blazed, alive.
The first stroke hit him and it hurt more than he remembered, his arse probably already redder than ever before and he needed more…
Another thump and his skin burned, he could feel the stripe rise up as he imagined the blood pooling toward the surface.
“Beautiful.”
Jack’s whispered admission shone warmly like the sun and he basked in the Captain’s pleasure. He tried to imagine what the Captain was seeing as another hit marred his arse; the initial whiteness standing out in contrast to his already hot arse slowly rising into beautiful red welts.
Another strike and he felt like he could come just from the white searing pain, from Jack’s pleasure.
He was beautiful.
Pain pulsated through his body after the next hit and he noticed he was moaning, screaming, sobbing. He could do all those things and be free, no one to judge him, no one to tell him it was wrong because… He. Was. Right. Jack was pleased and if Jack thought he was beautiful then he was beautiful.
He was beautiful.
Another strike and he let the sobs overtake him, he was beautiful and he was right, even like this, he was cared for, loved.
He didn’t realize when the cane was replaced by soothing hands massaging something cool onto his arse.
He was beautiful.
And then a finger penetrated him, wet slick finger, and he let the tears continue to fall glad that Jack’s didn’t stop due to his sobbing because he needed this, he needed… Jack. And then the finger was joined with a second one and it wasn’t soft or gentle but rough and fast and needy and oh, so perfect.
Third finger joined the two and they thrust in fast and hit his prostate and yes, yes, yes, yes…
He didn’t know if he was whispering, or shouting, or if it was all in his head but Jack just knew, he knew, and then a slick cock was burning as his hole was filled… fast and rough.
Those blue eyes started down at him, tears pooling at the corners, and they carried him away with the tide as their bodies’ rocked brutally together.
Hands scratching at his chest and twisting his nipples, fingernails digging deep into his hips then scratching at his thighs, mouth covering his and he tasted honey and salt as he left it open for Jack to explore. Jack’s tongue fucking Ianto’s mouth with his tongue as roughly as he was fucking his hole and he whimpered and moan and mewled…
A calloused hand wrapped around his cock, warm and rough and kind and fast, pulling with the rhythm of their bodies. His restraints digging into his wrists and ankles, senses overwhelmed, and he felt everything, fear, peace, grounding, flying, detainment, freedom, pain, pleasure rolled up into a ball of heat in his lower abdomen as it erupted through his cock.
Shuddering through the orgasm sobbing, laughing he felt his sanity slip. Jack’s body tensed and then he felt come fill him up as he watched the peaceful face with closed eyes above him. Peace that he’d not even seen in his Captain when asleep.
Everything seemed to settle and slot together inside of him and he wished for the first time to be released so he could hold and caress the man above him.
Jack pulled out and he felt bereft, missing the warm body on him, around him, in him.
The minute Jack released him from his bonds his sore muscles woke up with a scream. He couldn’t help but groan as he moved his limbs, his raw arse scraping against the sheets.
“Turn over,” Jack commanded gently and he flopped on his belly with the grace of a beached whale. He ached to grab Jack and pull him into a kiss but he was tired and sore and it was still simpler follow Jack’s commands.
Jumping at the sudden coldness on his arse, strong hands rubbed something (a cream?) to soothe the ache. The touches were gentle but firm spreading the soothing substance and massaging the muscles at the same time.
Fingers traced gently over welts and he would have hissed if he wasn’t so tired, a loud yawn escaping through his lips instead.
When the hands seemed to be satisfied with his behind, they moved down to soothe the thighs.
Traveling down again, they massaged the calves and then spent additional time working on each rubbed raw ankle. Then the hands moved up to the back, kneading the sore muscles stiff from remaining in the same position for so long.
It felt like peaceful numbness was taking over his body apart as the hands massaged and melted his sore muscles. Ianto yawned again, he may not be flying anymore but he was definitely still floating as the warmth spread throughout his body.
Moving up to the shoulders, down the biceps and arms, the fingers finally settled working on the aching wrists and hands, spending extra time spreading the cream around.
“Turn over.” Gentle command followed mindlessly.
Ianto could see Jack’s eyes now as he concentrated working on his muscles starting with his feet and working his way up slowly. Comfy warmth spread through him as the hands worked up his legs, chest, shoulders, and then arms.
“Ianto, how are you feeling?”
“M’ good,” uttered with a blissful smile.
“Sleepy?”
“Getting ‘ere.”
Jack chuckled and then the next thing he knew, Jack’s mouth engulfed Ianto’s again hard cock with his mouth. The suction was gentle and slow, as if continuing the massage to another sore muscle.
As sleep drew him in, he could feel the warmth coil in his stomach; it wasn’t needy, overwhelming, explosive, burning, or heated but soft warmth coiled out and he was coming with a soft grunt.
He barely felt a warm flannel cleaning him up as sleep claimed him with a smile on his lips and one last thought.
Tomorrow, tomorrow he’d take care of his Captain.