Black Birch

Title: Playing favourites
Rating: Adult threesome fic
Wordcount: 3287 words
Notes: For Kita and Fod cause they’re awesome and encourage me to write porn for them. This is more of what started as a 500 words comment fic.
Summary: Torchwood fandom, 3200 words of Gwen and Ianto has Jack tied to a chair and then they all have sex. It’s porn, people.

Beta’d by Kita. Thank you.It’s unbetaed because I dind’t get a response on my beta call and I don’t know where to turn for that, I haven’t had time to look into the fandom so much. All comments welcomed

I came back for you
…
all of you

Jack prides himself on noticing things, whether it’s time, the universe or just his team. Watching and seeing are different things though, and right now Jack feels as if he had watched but never saw. At least, not this time around. Being away had changed more things than he’d thought. For him, the Hub had become somewhat static, everyone fitting their assumed roles like comfortable worn in clothes.

Jack had watched his team slowly become one with the Hub and less of the world, and then Gwen came and shook them up just by fumbling through her new experiences of aliens-do-exist with such a breathing, beating pulse of life.

If Jack had ever thought about it, he’d have realised he singled her out already on her first day.

And Ianto, the tea boy he’d taken for granted, who never forgets the fact that Jack killed his girlfriend.

“You’re the monster Jack.”

Jack still gets (guilty) hot flashes remembering raw scratches down his back, words cursed in his ear as Ianto howled his grief with every deep thrust of Jack’s hips. The bruises on them both were vivid, and there was a look in Ianto’s eyes Jack wanted to shy away from. No words spoken, a silence only cracked by Ianto’s indrawn breath as he pulled on his clothes. Jack wished he’d been allowed to soothe the traces of his anger at being deceived; he hadn’t held anything back. His teeth had left crescents in shapes of red and blue on Ianto’s back and after the anger had drained away, they were stark and punishing even to his own eyes. If he looked closely there were red marks from his fingers gripping Ianto’s neck, pushing him down, squeezing him tight and making him see.

But Ianto seemed to have gotten what he wanted and gingerly left the Hub with his back ramrod straight; Jack still naked and eyes following him till the door rolled closed. That hadn’t quite gone the way Jack wanted…

Jack knows he plays favourites but he can’t help it, nor stop it. He couldn’t pinpoint when he realised it, when the two of them had become the teacher’s pets, and not because of their own volition.

“I came back for you
…
all of you”.

Ianto and Gwen have wormed under his defences when he wasn’t looking and now they’re trapped inside; pieces that chafe and soothe at the same time.

When Jack came back he realised that he couldn’t just fall back into place and pull on his old costume, because things had shifted around in his absence. Gwen and Ianto were more vocal about it than the other two.

“You deserted us!”

Finding Gwen and Ianto lip-locked in a dark corner was something of a surprise to Jack, one that struck him speechless and made his pants tighten. Especially with the pink flush across Gwen’s cheeks and down her cleavage, and a giggle dancing on her reddened lips. Ianto bending his neck, in that bashful way that made Jack want to press him up against the wall and demand he confess his sins. He looked good flushed and embarrassed, and Jack wanted to hear all the naughty things they’d been up to. In that boy voice Ianto did so well, catering to Jack because he knew how much Jack enjoyed the lie of innocence.

Now Jack was sprawled back in his chair, long legs comfortably stretched out in front of him, so when his arms were grabbed behind his back he had no weight to pull with. The cuffs were cold against skin, which was heated with whisky and relief that his team was all still alive. He leaned back to look into Ianto’s grinning face wondering what mischief he was up to when they still had an audience. Unlike himself, Jack had never taken Ianto as an exhibitionist.

Gwen sat on the couch and studied them, her head tilted to the side, showing her slender neck, as her hair covered only her right shoulder. He’d been wanting to mark that white skin since almost the first day he saw her, to suck a bruise there and listen to her gasp while he did it. But he had kept his touching to gropes he could blame on something else, like teaching her how to shoot. He liked to have them all under his touch, a flesh memory his body would remember and keep. Toshiko’s soft hair, the way Owen curled into his arms as he sobbed his guilt and remorse, and even the way Suzy’s hands were often cold but her hair smelled sweet.

Ianto was walking over to Gwen on the couch, sitting down beside her, leaning his head on her shoulder. His eyes drifted closed as he smelled her hair and Jack wanted to touch them, to keep on watching, and for the comfortable silence not to break. He wasn’t used to being inactive, to having his choices removed, to not being in the driver’s seat.

Gwen and Ianto’s hands locked but it’s their eyes that start unravelling Jack at the seams; the way they look at him and then at each other. Ianto’s leer towards Jack that immediately falls away when he starts kissing Gwen, and Gwen looking at Jack as she bites Ianto’s lip. Making him gasp into her mouth and their hands lock tighter, Gwen’s eyes watching Jack’s every reaction as she tilts Ianto’s head for a better view. They kiss for a long time and their hands do their own version of kissing, fingers dancing on open palms to slide together and clench tighter. Breathy moans turn wet and slick, their lips turn swollen and reddened.

The sounds these two beautiful people make when they kiss make Jack hard, and the flush on their skin promises so much more. When their clasped hands clench tighter on a deep moan and their bodies rock to move closer just as they’re struggling to keep their position, Jack has to spread his legs to make his pants seem a little less tight and uncomfortable.

Then they both come up for air gasping for breath and looking at Jack like they won a prize, and he knows this is just the beginning of a very long night. Hopefully, they’ll let him come before his balls turn blue.

Gwen stands up and walks over to Jack, her hand pausing in the air before she rests it on his cheek. A hot sweaty palm slides into the soft hairs at the back of his neck, her fingers tickling the sensitive skin and her eyes searching his face. When she licks her lips and grins he can’t help the rise of his hips and his thighs trying to trap her against him. Gwen giggles, laughter against his cheek as she tickles his earlobe with a flick of her tongue, her arms resting against his shoulders. She’s hot against the inside of his thighs, but whenever he tries to rub against her she glides away like she’s nothing but a figment of fevered imagination.

The cuffs aren’t cold anymore but they dig into his wrists; the chain attaching them to chair so he can’t get up creates a constant background noise of fettered movement. Jack turns his head to find her lips, to kiss her and have her closer, to make her give into him. But she stops, millimetres away so that they share breath and almost touch, but not enough to kiss. The muscles of his neck are tense. He’d forgotten about Ianto, till strong hands cup his jaw and lean him back. Into an upside down kiss that makes him breathe like bellows, a surprise that makes his eyes fall closed and there’s nothing but tongue against tongue. The warm weight against his hard cock makes him groan loudly, buck up and clack his teeth against Ianto’s own. Gwen spreads across his lap like a smiling green-eyed devil; she slowly rocks against him, her eyes open wide and her mouth opening in quiet moans.

Jack twists up against her, stretching his body up up up, and meets Ianto’s eyes above him. His lips are wet, there’s a flush in his cheeks and Jack can’t decide which of them to fasten his eyes on. He wants to be everywhere, wants his hands and mouth and cock to open them up and make them shudder beneath him.

Gwen grabs Jack’s face, a kiss hard and fast he doesn’t get time to enjoy, before she steps off of him and reaches a hand out to Ianto. They walk away from him and his heart finds his throat before they stop and turn. Being left (abandoned for dead) will always be a sore place in Jack’s soul, and always is a long time for someone who cannot die.

But they smile at him, a comfort settling inside at seeing Ianto look so young and happy and falling piece by piece into Gwen’s hands. He likes the satisfied look on Gwen’s face too, and the knowledge they share now, of how it feels to have Ianto horny and squirming under your hands. Hers are stroking upwards, Ianto’s shirt bunching in her arms, showing off that trim torso. Ianto arches against her and Jack can only look, when he really wants to hide his face against that warm skin, bite kisses along the waist of Ianto’s pants and feel every shaking breath against his own mouth.

But he can only watch, want and ache for them. The way the cuffs dig in when he squirms in his seat is almost a pleasure, tease and pain. His pants feel heavy and cling to him with every shift of his hips, with every move Gwen makes as she slowly unwraps Ianto like a gift on Christmas morning.

Ianto’s nipples are peaked and his is chest flushed, covered with the sparse hair that Jack wants to feel against his face as he nibbles and licks his way down to where thigh meets torso. Towards the secret places he wants to taste and rub, and feel the skin break out in sweat underneath him. The way Ianto squirms in shameful pleasure because it’s awkward, and wrong to have tongue and lips in certain places, but it is oh so good.

Ianto has Gwen’s blouse open too, his face between those luscious breasts, tracing the lace, wetting it dark with his tongue. Her legs twist as she arches against him, to give him more and make him take her nipples fully into his mouth. But Ianto just smiles, kisses her breathless and turns her towards Jack. Stands behind her and lifts her hair, kisses her neck down towards the bra-strap that he gently pushes away with the palm of his hand. He holds her tight against him with an arm braced against her ribcage, one of his legs between hers, and his eyes on Jack. When the fabric hits the floor Jack’s dick is twitching in the confines of his pants, and he is pretty sure his wrists are getting bruised from the impulse to grab (and fuck) each time he forgets he’s chained down.

Ianto on his knees is never going to be old, nor is seeing Gwen lose her jeans and step out of them, with only a pair of dark purple panties on, the shade of them even darker just between her legs. Jack wants her closer so he can smell and lick and see if she’s really that wet or if it’s just his imagination. Ianto’s hand is caressing the inside of her leg, staring at Jack as he does so before looking up at Gwen and taking her hand. There’s something so proper about the way they move, it’s like porn for gentlemen.

Ianto is shirtless, hard and grinning, and he drops her hand as she stands before him like a goddess. Dark eyed and flushed, her nipples hard and her teeth a sharp white, in a grin set to steal his soul. Ianto’s hot fingers come around Jack’s neck, bending him back into a kiss. Holding him so he can’t watch when Gwen climbs into his lap. Her hands, her thighs, her breasts a soft delicious press against his shirt as she leans forward and takes over the kiss. There is a brilliant moment where all three of them meet in taste and tongue.

Jack tenses against her weight, oversensitive and eager at the same time, his hips bucking upward seeking release. But Ianto just smiles into his cheek, and Jack can feel his lips moving. That bastard. Ianto may look like he’s a man that’s polite in bed and eager to please. Which is correct, in some finer points of things, but he’s also demanding, pushy; he whispers naughty things into Jack’s ear as he bends his lovers to please him. To give him places to reach and touch, to take his pleasure and burn them with it when he gives it back.

But Jack forgets every word he was about to speak, forgets to damn them both, when Gwen’s hands slips into his shirt. Button by button, like a slow painful revelation with Jack’s arms tied and his vest in the way. Her nails scratch his nipples, twisting them as he growls into Ianto’s open mouth. Jack feels doubly tied down with Gwen’s weight pinning him to the chair, Ianto holding him in place with strong hands around his jaw and his neck, and too many clothes in the way.

Gwen licks and sucks his nipples as she slowly opens his pants. Ianto’s hands are in Jack’s hair scratching across his scalp with gentle fingers like he’s trying to soothe the gasps and growls of frustration and need. Because Ianto’s equally good at being soft as silk, long limbs curled around Jack as he kisses tender places and strokes them slowly, as he rolls with Jack’s moves, and let’s him decide the speed. He always shivers when Jack stretches him out and smiles when Jack drives into him, deep, deep, deeper.

But now it is Jack who feels breathless and dying, sensations covering him like an ocean of need and want. Gwen’s teeth ride his neck, marking a spot beneath his ear that Jack knows will show tomorrow. Right above the collar of his shirt, and Jack will wear it with pride, a satisfying way to make Gwen blush.

Heat and sharpness from Ianto’s mouth, his hands gliding down, underneath the shirt, twisting his nipples and swallowing Jack’s deep moan. The space above Jack’s heart, that’s where Ianto’s made his place. That’s where he likes to hold Jack down, his hands like brands spreading across Jack’s chest. Something for Jack to push against as he struggles not to thrust too deeply into Gwen’s hot mouth, now around his cock, struggles to not flood her mouth, not to let them break him too early in the game.

He does not want to be finished with them yet; the second he’s released he will be upon them, hold them down and take his pleasure. Sink inside her with Ianto riding his back, Ianto’s cock rubbing against where they’re joined, slick and heat and sweat gathering between all of them. He will spread them both open and taste them, have Ianto kiss her tits red and bruised as Jack sinks his tongue inside her, taste them both there.

It’s easy to have fantasies, one dirtier than the next, with her lips stretched around his cock, her green eyes staring at him and Ianto as she rubs herself off, slowly and shuddering.

Gwen comes with a gasp and a heavy swallow around him and Jack wants to stroke her hair, wants to hold her still as he brutally fucks himself into completion. He ends up slowly moving his hips instead, gentle movements as he brutally pushes into Ianto’s mouth, kissing him deep.

Ianto lets him go with a gasp and bruised mouth, marks from Jack’s teeth a reddened pattern on his lower lip. Gwen scratches Jack’s chest to get his attention, a hard twist of a nipple and he bucks up with a growl. She lets him go, smiles like she really is something demonic and grabs him by the hips. Holds him in a grip he happily aches for, moving him into her mouth, with deep long strokes and it’s like silk and claws. When Ianto’s mouth joins her, kneeling beside her across Jack’s quivering thigh, Jack is so close to coming that it’s only Ianto’s grip on his balls that stops him. His body’s sweating and shuddering, the soreness of the cuffs forgotten, all he can feel is the weight in his groin, and the urge to come like a fist clenched in his belly.

It’s Ianto who rolls the condom on, and steadies Gwen as she slowly sinks down on him, a fist of heat and fluttering muscles as she shakes around him. He wishes he could stroke her thighs, grip her ass and caress the sweet dip where her spine ends.

Suddenly he can, Ianto’s unlocked the chain and cuff, and Jack almost loses his balance as he’s been using them as a counterweight. Then Gwen’s ass is in his hands as he pushes her down on his cock, sinking deeper, rutting into her body as he bites kisses down her neck, her shoulders. Marking him for his pleasure to watch her skin go red, to carry his touch into tomorrow. His fingers run everywhere, a feverish need to touch and grip closer. He rubs her wet and tight around him, constricting in a wavering motion as her thighs shake and her cries go higher as he sucks her nipple tight into his mouth and go deep inside her. She’s falling apart in his hands, without restraint and without shame, and he puts his own need aside for a few seconds more to take in the flush down her torso, and kiss her soft soft lips.

Her legs are still shaking when she stands up, her thighs glistening, and Ianto holds her arms tight as he changes place with her. Slick and prepared he glides down easily, Jack pulling him against his chest, nibbling his neck as he watches them hold hands. But he forgets them as fucks into Ianto, finally allowing himself to get closer to coming, one hand jacking Ianto’s flushed wet cock as his other strokes across his heaving chest.

It doesn’t take long, before he muffles his cry against Ianto’s sweaty shoulder, and his hand looses its grip to become a trembling embrace. Ianto turns his head to kiss him when he finds his breath, makes soft sounds against his lips as Jack puts his hands back on him. Another warm hand against his and he looks down, Gwen is holding his hand as she takes Ianto into her mouth. A shapeless circle of pleasure, their hands tightening as Ianto comes in Gwen’s mouth, Jack kissing Ianto’s mouth and swallowing his whimpers as he shudders in Jack’s arms.

They sleep in his bed, all soft breath, sheets barely moving around their bones and curves. And Jack cannot stop watching, afraid this will be gone when he wakes up.

Piece by piece they conquer what they want, with laughter and joy. And Jack’s afraid to believe in it, but they never take no for an answer. Together they’re a river he can only hold on to as it takes him away and under, breaks him open and swallows him down, makes him live in the here and the now.

They’ve made him theirs and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.