RockStarPeach

Happy Birthday edenskye!!  I thought I'd write you a little Jack/Ianto to celebrate!  I'm not sure what you'll think of it though, since it's a little darker than I think you usually like, but hey.  It has Ianto being all psychotic and toppy, and that is good times :)  Anyway, hope you had a good one honey.

*hugs*

 

Title:  Monster
Pairing:  Jack/Ianto
Rating:  Adult.  Very, very adult.
Summary:  Missing scene from ‘Adam’.  Ianto kind of flips out when the best lie detector in the universe tells him he did it.  He wants to do it again.
Warnings:  Dark.  Very dark.  Violence, rough sex, character death.

 

***

“I did it.  I told you, I did it,” Ianto mumbled, eyes glazing over, and lips shaking slightly with disbelief.  He’d been hoping Jack had been right, that he was somehow imagining it, right up until the best lie detector in the universe had proved that Jack was dead wrong.  Ianto was a killer.

“No, Ianto…” Jack started, shaking his head, and leaning forward across the table to take his hand, but Ianto could hear the uncertainty in his voice now, could hear the slight waver, the doubt.  Jack wasn’t so sure.

“Yes, Jack!” Ianto snarled, and pushed the lie detector out of the way as he stood, arms sweeping out to the sides.  “I did it.”  His eyes were hard as he looked down at his sometimes lover, the knowledge of what he’d done burning a hole in his brain, filling up his heart with blackness and evil, and something snapped.

It felt good.

Oh, it had been good when he’d done it, alright.  He’d loved every second of it, of seeing the dawn of fear in their eyes, feeling them struggle under him, and knowing, knowing that he was stronger, that he was going to win.  Most of all, listening to that final hitch of breath, watching as they realised with striking clarity that those were their final seconds in this world, and then they went limp under his hands, glazed, lifeless eyes staring up at him.

He’d come in his pants, without ever even touching his cock, it had been so good.

He must have forgotten about it at first, though he wasn’t exactly sure how that was even possible, but when the memories had first hit him a sledge hammer to the head would have been less painful.  He felt a grief, a remorse so great he was crazy with it, trying to claw the images out of his head, from behind his eyes where they were playing on a nearly constant loop.

He remembered getting off on murdering women, and he hated himself for it.

Now though…  Now he remembered the thrill, the rush, and he wanted it again.  Wanted to take his confusion and his anger out on Jack.  Wanted to prove that he wasn’t the sweet, loyal Ianto who had always been living in Jack’s shadow, chasing him around like a pathetic puppy.

He was strong, he was powerful, and he had darkness inside him.  That darkness felt amazing.  He wanted Jack to feel it, too.

“Like I said, I’m a monster.  I did, and you know it.”  He walked around the desk very slowly, eyes on Jack the whole time, and Jack didn’t even flinch when Ianto grabbed him by the front of the shirt and yanked him up, forced him back several steps and slammed him hard into the wall.  “And I want to do it again.”

His words were a snarl, voice ugly and face contorted in anger and an empathic reaction to the pain of Jack’s head bouncing off the wall, and Ianto felt his dick hardening in his pants.

Jack let out a tiny little whimper of pain when Ianto used his free hand to wrap around Jack’s windpipe, and smash his head back into the wall, even harder.  It was so soft that Ianto had to strain to hear it, wouldn’t have been able to had his face not been pressed right up against Jack’s, lips almost touching, but Jack didn’t move.

He didn’t struggle, for words or breath or freedom.  Just stood there, staring into Ianto’s eyes, all understanding and forgiveness and when Ianto pressed impossibly closer, looked at Jack even harder, eyes narrowed, there was just the tiniest bit of mischief there, looking back at him.

Jack, the perverted fucker, was getting off on this.  Not that Ianto had any room to talk, but still.  Getting choked to death was probably a lot easier if you knew you could never really be killed.  Asshole.

He gave one last shove against Jack’s neck and then let go, smiling in satisfaction when Jack sucked in a desperate, gasping breath, but he didn’t let him fall, didn’t let him double over to make the breaths easier.  He wasn’t stopping, he was just drawing it out, making it a little more fun.

Jack had the fucking balls to smile at him then, a crooked half smile through continued deep breathing, and he pushed his hips forward, dragged the outline of his erection against Ianto’s.  Ianto pushed forward as well then, hard, hard enough to bruise them both, and they grunted against each other’s lips.

Jack opened his mouth just the smallest bit, and Ianto’s fingers dug sharp into his neck, his fingernails biting into the skin, and when he felt Jack’s tongue slide out across his bottom lip, he growled.  The sound was low and dangerous, and he stepped back fast, and spun Jack around, pushed his chest to the wall.

One hand found its way to the side of Jack’s head, and he thrust his arm forward, smashing Jack’s face into the hard surface, keeping him still.  He braced a knee between Jack’s legs, putting him slightly off balance so that it would be easier to keep him pinned with one hand, while the other one worked at the front of his pants.

Jack still didn’t fight though, as Ianto undid the belt, and then the zipper.  Not even when Ianto let go of his head to roughly jerk his pants down around his knees, and spread his legs as far as possible with the material restricting his movement.

He worked his own pants open next, his front pressed against Jack’s back, and pulled his cock out, moaning when his warm hand wrapped around the hard flesh.  Jack’s breath hitched when he grabbed Jack’s hips, yanking him back a little so he could bend him forward slightly, make the angle easier, and he guided himself between Jack’s cheeks.

Jack moaned a little and Ianto felt anger bubble up inside him.  Jack wasn’t supposed to like this.  Wasn’t supposed to want it.  This, this willing capitulation just wasn’t as good.  He wanted Jack scared, not gagging for it.  That obviously wasn’t going to happen.

He thrust forward hard, and Jack cried out, pain at least mixed in with the pleasure, and when Jack’s hand went to his cock, started pulling as he rocked back against Ianto, Ianto slammed in as hard as he could, and Jack’s free hand came to the wall in front of him to hold him up.

“Shit,” Jack cursed, but he only bent over a little more so Ianto could get in deeper, move faster, and Jack was probably bleeding inside, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Shut up,” Ianto hissed in his ear, and his hand went around Jacks throat again, squeezing tight.

He moved in and out of him quickly, and Jack’s head tilted back, resting on Ianto’s shoulder, eyes closed.  Ianto could see Jack’s hand moving faster on his own cock as he started to struggle for breath.  Ianto squeezed harder around Jack’s throat, and his other hand came to join it, letting only barely enough oxygen in through hitching gasps. 

“Do it,” Jack whispered when Ianto’s fingers briefly loosened.  “Do it.”

Jack’s hand sped up even more, and Ianto could tell he was getting close.  He doubted that this was the first time Jack had gone like this, in the middle of a good fuck, begging for someone’s hands to choke the life out of him.

It made him mad, made him want to do it again and again until Jack stayed dead, sprawled out on the floor at his feet, and never getting up again.  He loved Jack, the stupid bastard.  He loved him.

Jack let out one last breathless moan and then went silent as his air supply was cut off completely.  He came all over his own fingers seconds later, and it wasn’t until he went limp and crumpled against Ianto, that he let out a strangled cry and emptied himself inside Jack, hands still tight around his throat.

He pulled back and let Jack fall to the floor, stared at him dazedly for a moment, and then fell to the ground beside him, put his face in his hands and cried.

He really was a monster.

 

END