m_findlow

Title: Loving what you do
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for badly_knitted's prompt "Torchwood, Jack/Ianto, The feeling they get after a successful Weevil hunt" at fic_promptly.
Summary: Nothing beats true job satisfaction

Oh, God!

Half an hour ago he'd been facing the prospect of a night filled with nothing but reports, pizza and coffee. Now he was literally fighting for his life against a weevil.

One day he'd get it straight in his head that a weevil hunt with Jack was not meant to be fun, and that he shouldn't look forward to them. Perhaps it was just the reckless perception of the invincibility of youth. Perhaps he should blame Jack and his maniacal glee at the opportunity for a bit of rough and tumble. In truth, it was just downright bloody dangerous.

Just like now, when the weevil he was fighting against had him backed up and cornered against the alley wall. He had no idea how Jack was faring, but to the outside viewer it must have looked like something out of a mortal combat video game.

There were two weevils and two of them. But even highly trained and armed with weapons, that didn't make it a fair fight. Not by a long way.

Ianto ducked his head just as the weevil was about to take it clean off his shoulders and turned it into a rugby tackle of sorts, surging forward and forcing the weevil backward, giving himself room to escape, or at least to approach the problem from a different angle. One that preferably didn't result in him losing a limb.

That wasn't to be though. The weevil dug his claws deep into Ianto’s upper arm and tore at the fabric and flesh. It annoyed him. He really liked that jacket.

He still couldn't get the upper hand and was seconds away from the weevil getting a proper grip on him, when it stumbled backward and fell to the ground, Ianto landing straight on top of him, still caught in its clutches. He couldn't believe his luck as he quickly reached into his pocket for the weevil spray, sedating it. Then he saw Jack's booted leg right next to him. The weevil hadn't fallen on its own, Jack had tripped it up.

'Looked like you could use some help.'

'I had it under control.'

Jack laughed. Those had been some of the very first words they'd exchanged that first night they met. It had become an inside joke between them that nowadays meant, "thanks, you just saved my bacon."

Ianto hooded the creature before letting Jack give him a hand to stand up.

'Where's the other one?'

Jack looked a bit sheepish. 'Got away. But I think it got enough of the idea that it shouldn't patrol the streets anymore.'

'All's well that ends well, then,' Ianto remarked.

Between them they dragged the unconscious weevil back to the SUV, which was parked a block away but at the top of a steep hill. Once they'd loaded their passenger in the boot, and jumped back in the car, they were both still breathing hard from the effort.

Jack surveyed Ianto for injuries, spotting the gash to his upper arm and reaching out for it.

'That's a shame, I liked that suit.'

Ianto did the same to Jack, spying the large tear running down his chest. There was only a thin line of blood, but a large portion of muscled flesh had been exposed by the tear. Ianto suddenly knew he didn't want to inspect injuries anymore. He quickly grabbed Jack's neck and pulled him into a ferocious kiss.

They always had fun after a weevil chase, but usually they at least made it back to the hub first, or sometimes just as far as the car park. Tonight though, Ianto was jumped up on the combination of adrenaline, and that sensation you got when you realised you could have died tonight, and that he didn't want to waste another single second of living. He wanted Jack, now.

Jack's arms immediately wrapped around him, pulling him forward against his own body. He clambered over the gearshift until he was sitting on Jack's lap, and Jack's hand left his side for a moment to shift the seat all the way back as far as it would go, before resuming its explorations.

Ianto tore open Jack's shirt, not paying heed to the buttons that were flying off, to be later discovered tucked in every tiny gap the car had. The shirt was ruined anyway, but even if it hadn't been, Ianto didn't think he would have cared. Jack's undershirt quickly went the same way, so that Ianto could access the delicious skin underneath. He wanted to taste every last inch of it.

Jack was fumbling hopelessly with Ianto's own clothes, too distracted by what Ianto was doing to him. Usually it was the other way around, but tonight, Ianto was calling the shots. He eventually managed it, but only with considerable help from Ianto, who was equally desperate to have them off.

Ianto pressed their bodies back together, tongue still ravaging Jack's mouth, whilst his hand expertly undid both sets of belts and trousers, finally attaining the prize he was after.

Jack loved it when Ianto took control. This was the best part of weevil hunting, no question. Hell, this was the only reason he took Ianto with him. This is what he called job satisfaction.

All coherent thought vanished after that as they began their actions in earnest, kissing and rocking against one another, bloodied wounds forgotten despite the salty sweat that stung inside them now. If their weevil had woken up right now and starting thrashing in the boot, neither of them probably would have noticed.

Ianto felt like he was high on the most potent drug there was. Every nerve ending was sparking like it was charged full of electricity, and his body felt like it was on fire. His mind was floating away, like a tiny raft on a raging sea of ecstasy. He didn't want this to end but his body was telling him otherwise, as the high sensation grew stronger and stronger until,

Oh, God!