At Uni he'd discovered that lots of girls liked geeks and there had been no looking back for Ianto. None of them had lasted longer than a couple of weeks, but that doesn't matter much when you're 18 years old and away from home for the first time. Life' is just one big party.
Then he'd met Lisa. Bam! Love at first sight.
Sex with Lisa had been different, too. He'd always tried to be a considerate lover, but with Lisa, giving her pleasure meant more to him than his own release. He could make love to her for hours, slowly, holding back his own needs to give her one more orgasm. Watching her come was such a head rush. Almost better than coming himself.
So, how the hell was he supposed to get it up for Jack Harkness? Well, at first he'd managed by closing his eyes and thinking of Lisa. Which was fine as Jack wanted to be the one doing all the touching and tasting.
But the first blowjob Ianto had attempted sucked, and not in a good way. That particular brand of oral sex was not something he could fantasise doing with Lisa. He'd had his eyes so tightly screwed shut that he'd completely missed Jack's dick on the first go, mashing his lips into a jutting hipbone.
Fortunately, out of necessity, the liaison had had to be fast and furious as the archives were open at both ends, and any one of the team could have walked in on them. He'd only gagged a couple of times, and somehow managed to pull away just as Jack was coming, finishing the job with his hand, and a grimace on his face that he'd hoped could be interpreted as a smile in bad light. Thankfully, the sound of someone coming down the corridor meant there had been no question of Jack reciprocating, which would have given away Ianto's total lack of arousal.
He'd gone home that night, rented gay porn to use as reference and practiced giving head to a medium sized cucumber until he'd lost his gag reflex, but could never look at a cucumber sandwich again as long as he lived.
After that it had simply been a matter of pre-empting any attempt Jack made to get up close and personal with his dick, by dropping to his knees and sucking him off. This had worked remarkably well for the first few weeks, but Ianto could tell Jack was getting bored with it. And a bored Jack was a curious Jack. He couldn't risk having Jack prowling about the hub at night when everyone had gone home. There was no telling what, or whom he might find.
So, he'd rented porn again, sat in the dark with eyes like saucers, made a fist with his left hand and practiced rimming the tightly clenched fingers until he was fairly sure he could manage the real thing.
Back at the hub, Jack had seemed quite pleasantly surprised with this new development, enthusiastically shouting out encouragement in time with Ianto's darting tongue. Unfortunately, Ianto had stopped the VCR in disgust the night before, shortly after the rimming scene had started, and wasn't sure what else he was supposed to be doing. He could tell that it was getting easier to force his tongue through the tight ring of muscle, but he was fairly sure that alone would not be enough to make Jack come.
This had been confirmed, to his horror, a moment later with Jack's hoarse cry of "God, Ianto, fuck me!"
Which had been the exact moment Ianto had realised that he could probably manage that, what with the enormous woody he was sporting. Somewhere along the line, Ianto had become genuinely turned on by what he was doing!
Some time later, he would come to realise that he got off on giving pleasure. It didn't seem to matter what sex the person was, so long as they were panting, and begging Ianto to make them come. But right at that moment, he'd been too bloody shocked by the discovery to analyse it.
He'd tried to remember anything from the video that might help him, but all he could recall with any clarity during the sex scene was wondering how the hell the director was going to get the come stains off the black leather sofa.
"Ianto?" Jack, still bent over the conference table with his trousers at his ankles, spoke to Ianto over his shoulder.
Ianto had blinked stupidly. "Here?" he'd asked in surprise. "On the table?"
Blowjobs and the odd rimming could only be enhanced by the weirdness of their locality, but fucking? That was serious stuff. He'd always imagined a bed, soft music, maybe some wine…
" Good a place as any." Jack had growled, going back to prostrating himself over the table.
The next day, Ianto had not been able to look Jack in the eye as the team sat around that very table discussing the latest rash of Weevil attacks. He'd kept having flashbacks to the noises Jack made as Ianto had fucked him, and in the end, he'd excused himself to go make coffee for everyone after a quick visit to the loo. And yes, he'd carefully washed his hands before making the coffee.
After that, he'd decided not to look too deeply into it. Being able to give Jack whatever he needed meant more time to keep Lisa safe until he could figure out some way to save her.
After Lisa nearly killed them all, Ianto expected to wake up one morning with no memory of the last three years, a bedside drawer full off gay porn videos and possibly a damp cucumber or two.
He was fully aware how he'd abused his position of trust and betrayed every member of the team. But Jack didn't fire him. He didn't retcon him either. He even allowed Ianto to take part in field operations. What he didn't do was lay a finger on him. Ianto had gotten so used to the casual touches and the not-so-subtle flirting, that he found he missed it, but it hardly came as a shock. Jack's eyes revealed the depth of his betrayal.
Ianto saw it, but couldn't deal with it right then. He was too crushed by grief at finally losing what was left of Lisa to feel much else. He continued to show up to work, he did his job to the best of his ability, but he'd built a wall around himself that he swore no one would ever breach. He would never leave himself that vulnerable again.
It took a while for Jack to really trust him. Things between them improved gradually. Jack seemed intent on taking it slowly, suggesting a proper date, which knocked the legs out from under Ianto, metaphorically speaking. He hadn't expected that. It filled the dark places inside him with delight at the thought that Jack still wanted him.
But when Jack finally took hold of Ianto's face between trembling hands and kissed him, long and slow, and deep, Ianto had to admit that he'd built that wall way too late.
Jack was already inside all his defences.
It had started as a means to an end; a way in; a distraction. But it had become something else. Something much deeper. What they shared, whatever it was, worked. No need to go courting trouble by trying to give it a name.
Maybe one day, Jack would lower his own walls to let Ianto in.
And maybe one day, Ianto would tell Jack why he hated cucumber sandwiches.