Jack In Cuffs

Jack In Cuffs.

“Your coat, sir,” Jack took the proffered clothing from Ianto’s arms, slipping it over his shoulders,
“Thanks, Yan, hopefully this shouldn’t take too long, just have to go Retcon a couple of pedestrians,” he told the younger man,
“See you when you get back, then,” Ianto replied.

* * *

Jack delved his hands into his pockets, looking for some shelter from the driving wind. His fingers curled around cold metal…

Handcuffs.

His mind was instantly plagued by images of the previous night. Strong arms bound to the headboard. Lips nipping at his throat, sucking, biting gently. Legs wrapped ‘round his waist, flipping him over suddenly.
He would have to ask Ianto how he did that particular trick.
Then it was Jack who was cuffed to the bed. Straining against the metal bracelets as Ianto’s mouth went to work on his cock, driving him near crazy with need.

“You alright, Jack?” Gwen asked, suddenly interrupting him from his delicious memories.
“Fine. Well, guys, I think we’re done here. No-one else seems to have seen anything. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” he told them, chuckling to himself as Tosh, Gwen and Owen all bolted off, not giving him a chance to change his mind.

Not that he planned to, anyway!

* * *

“I liked that little reminder earlier on,” Jack purred into Ianto’s chest, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on the younger man’s flesh.
“Whatever do you mean?” the Welshman asked, mock innocent. The Captain captured Ianto’s lips in a searing kiss before he responded.
“Let’s just say… It’s funny, the things I find in my coat pockets!”

Fin.

Little ficlet about the things Jack finds in his coat pockets. Inspired because Fonti decided to have a rifle through my coat pockets and found my handcuffs.
Warnings; Mild guy on guy sex, nothing too graphic, unfortunately. Usual note to all would-be flamers, i.e. we will publish your flames and laugh at them.
I don’t own either Jack or Ianto. If I did, Torchwood would be on a lot later and would contain a Hell of a lot more sex.