cyus

Title: That Secret Place
Pairing: Suzie/Ianto
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2900 words
Summary: Ianto was watching, like he was watching everything in the Hub. She knew because she was watching him.
Notes: Beta'd by

51stcenturyfox and

misswinterhill.

Suzie drew her finger along the edges of the broken lightbulb, leaned in and touched her tongue to the glass. Ianto was watching, like he was watching everything in the Hub - she knew because she was watching him - pressed to the wall, palms flat, and his eyes flickering towards the staircase at every creak and moan of the old structures as if he was wondering how he could have ended up here.

Jack's footsteps rang through the Hub now, carried down here through metal grating and the puffed air between. Ianto glanced up at a squeak of Jack's soles, the bellow as he was calling for Owen, but dug his fingertips into the spaces between stones and turned back to watch her.

"Still there?" she asked.

Ianto jerked, but if anything pressed only closer to the wall and stayed where he was when Suzie crossed the room to him, in time to Jack's footsteps on walkways above.

Saliva glistened on the glass of the lightbulb, and she turned it as it caught in the flourescent light, fingers around the screw. Suzie held the bulb up to Ianto's face and pushed close enough now to feel his suit brush against her when he inhaled to hold his breath and exhaled out of necessity.

He was watching, eyes wide. Sweat rolled down his temple and neck, disappeared in his collar. The hint of curiosity, the need to continually watch and explore and learn all their secrets.
She smiled.

Jack had given her this space, and didn't give a care what it was she was building down here: a bomb to destroy something big or just something small to give her satisfaction.

Ianto looked past her, back to her face. He smelled of aftershave and sweat, so clean, so young, but she knew those eyes when they flickered, jerked and closed for effect. She had seen them in her mirror years ago, not anymore.

Suzie smiled, and touched the broken lightbulb to Ianto's lips. He opened his mouth to her, and she slid one of the longer edges over his tongue. 

"Close it again," she said, and shifted just enough to press up to him, feel his heat.   

Ianto closed his lips on the shard.

She brushed her fingertips through his sweat-soaked hair, brushed it back over his ear, a touch to the ear-shell, a touch to his eyelids. Jack shouted for Owen above and Ianto's body shifted against her, heat in his cheeks.

"Do you think of him often?" she asked, fingers smoothing over his eyebrow.

He began to shake his head, but she stilled him with another shift of her body closer and the smallest push of the glass further into his mouth.

"The truth, Ianto." She smiled and wondered if he'd ever get better at this game of truth or dare.

Ianto shook his head again.

Jack had given them all their hiding places just by looking away. Tosh had the system and the trojan horses she let out to battle UNIT's mainframe for fun in the after hours, eyes glazing over and that rage. It's the only time that Suzie ever saw that on Tosh's face. Owen had his corpses and Jack turned a blind eye to those, because Jack had the roofs, and his secrets had always hidden in plain sight.

Ianto? He was so pretty, and he so easily made Jack believe that it was Jack's bed, that the nights between sweaty sheets were Ianto's dirty little secret that left him shame-faced and jumping at the slightest sound. It made Jack smile when Ianto's back was turned.

Suzie knew though, because Suzie knew their secrets. "Do you think about him often?"

She worried the shard of glass between Ianto's lips a little, watched his eyes plead and beg, the strain in his forehead. Then his lids fell closed before the nod came and Ianto slumped against the wall enough to leave her to hold him up with broken glass in his mouth.

"Do you think about him when you kiss her through all that metal?" 

Suzie pressed a kiss to his cheek, another to the side of his nose. She knew Ianto's secret, the one that made Ianto slip down abandoned hallways when Jack was too busy thinking about him on his camp bed, the one that caught Ianto out freezing to the spot when someone offered to fetch something from the archives and scurrying down in the double-time to get it himself.

Ianto nodded, fingers clenching into fists at his side. Suzie dropped her hand between their bodies and guided one of his hands to her hip, slid it under her shirt and he held on, small press of soft fingertips to her skin, like she was his stuffed toy of choice when he was crying in his bed for mummy.

He opened his eyes, a hint of a look to the desk behind her, her project laid out as hardly even a mystery to uncover. He mouthed, "I know," around the glass and gestured feebly with his head, trying to play the game of grown-ups forcing secret against secret. She smiled, and he faltered.

"Breathing in my dirty little lies," Suzie replied, lips moving against his skin. "You can't walk away from that, can you?"

Ianto swallowed, his lips opened around the shard of glass and he breathed in around it, then mouthed the shard of glass like a toddler.

"Do you tell her about it, Ianto?" she whispered against the side of his face, tasting his sweat. "Do you tell her how you drop to your knees in front of that bed and enjoy a cock in your mouth?"

Ianto jerked, but Suzie held him right there with that broken lightbulb, and now her hand as she slid it down to his crotch, moved the palm of her hand across his cock still meekly hidden inside suit trousers.

"You do enjoy it, don't you? Heavy and hot on your tongue, how he pushes it in until it hits the back of your throat, and all you can taste and all you can smell and all you can see is him."

She traced the outline of his cock through the layers of clothes, stroked him, her thumb rubbing just underneath the head. He was so hard for Jack, like a schoolboy with his first crush on the teacher, and how she knew this feeling, how she knew what it was to lie back on that bed and spread her legs for Jack Harkness.

"Show me how you do it when you think of him," she said, hand squeezing his cock, "show me how you do it when you kiss her. When she can't quite look down. When you are in the loo by yourself on your knees in front of a toilet, trying not to get yourself dirty and desperate to come where no-one can see you. Show me how you do it when his cock is so far in your mouth that you don't know how to breathe around it but can't bear not to have it either."

She gave his cock another pat, and then opened his trousers, button and zipper, reached into his underpants to pull his cock out. Looking down, she could barely see it between their arms, small but hard; red, ugly and red and veined the way cocks were when you looked at them too closely.

"Nothing to win prizes with," she told him, a small laugh against his cheek, and she reached for his left hand just to make it awkward enough, and brought it to his cock, curled his fingers around it.

"Show me," she whispered.

His eyes were wet, maybe tears, maybe arousal, but he never stopped watching her as he began to move his hand on his cock with those awkward little strokes, rubbing the foreskin back and forth. He was a teenager having his first wank.

"Show me," she repeated and played the lightbulb between his lips, pushed it in and out with the same stuttering rhythm that he used on his cock. She wanted to plunge it down his throat like Jack's cock, make him feel it.

She wished she had a cock – she'd push it in hard and fast, just take.

Jack got so lost in the fuck that he forgot her name sometimes, and it was only the fuck down her throat, or his cock in her cunt, pounding away. There was something in his eyes, like he needed to sleep in sheets soaked by other people's sweat.

"He used to be mine," she said against Ianto's ear, a chuckle underneath when his rhythm stuttered.   She'd seduced him with those charms taught by down-beaten businessmen with a few pounds to spare for a pint for a girl in a skirt, and Jack had seduced her with everything he had to offer that the girl from the south coast could have only dreamed of having.

Ianto's cock looked wet at the tip now, so young and so excited. She laid her hand over his, stopped his rhythm altogether and drew her thumb across the wet tip of his cock. She brought it to her own lips, tasted it, nudged him to keep going, and he picked up the pitiful jerking with his left hand again, small puffs of breath escaping from his lips around the glass.

"I thought you'd taste a little like him," she said.

Jack had made her feel like the most beautiful whore he'd seen, and with her ass on his rough sheets, cunt wet for him when he'd pushed two fingers into her and leaned over her to push her to lie back, she'd felt the most beautiful whore to him. He'd fucked her with his fingers, and the wet noises had made her laugh like a schoolgirl with the first boy of her life, and Jack had only smiled and rotated his fingers in her, fucked her harder, then pulled out and stuffed his fingers wet with her juices into her mouth as he'd pushed his cock into her cunt, ground into her.

"You're so pretty," he'd whispered, brushed her hair back from her eyes and forced his fingers deeper into her mouth until she'd relaxed.

Ianto jerked underneath her, hips moving with aborted small movements against her.

She'd been back that night and sucked him in his office first until he'd pushed her back on the stones and ate her out until she'd been loose enough for four fingers and a tongue and came over his hand, over the stones, and he'd laughed as he'd said he should have filmed that.

"He's so beautiful when he comes," she said into Ianto's ear, traced the ear with her tongue. She turned Ianto's chin towards her, forced his eyes to meet hers, needed him to look at her. "Bite down."

Ianto shook his head, rhythm faltering but she pushed her knee between his legs until he picked up again, his knuckles brushing over her thigh with every movement along his cock.

"Bite down," she repeated, smiling. "It doesn't hurt. That's what Jack says, isn't it, it doesn't hurt."

Ianto bit down on the glass until the shard broke off the lightbulb and smaller splinters fell down between them, caught on clothes and Ianto's cock before they hit the stone floor. Suzie looked at the lightbulb in her hand, curious broken thing, and dropped it to the side. The small shard was sticking out from Ianto's lips. Suzie kissed him over it, lips too tight and cold and she left a little of her spit for him to taste. She pushed her tongue against the side of the shard between her lips and pushed it into his mouth fully, like teenagers swapping chewing gum for laughs.

Ianto went rigid, breath loud through his nose, and Suzie laughed; he sounded a little out of it, maybe.

"Relax," she said against his tightly closed lips, the shard in his mouth now, and kissed him again. "Chew." 

Eyes wide, he shook his head. She dropped her hand between them, stroked across the fingers still curled around her hip and then the ones on his cock. She brushed her thumb across the tip of his cock, then along his shaft, bumping into his still fingers and over them to the base of his cock and back, jerking him around his own hand, the girl showing the boy how to do it properly the first time.

"It's like Jack," she said, "it doesn't hurt."

Ianto swallowed, a sound in his throat, and she watched him, the jaw muscles tightening as he shifted the shard of glass around in his mouth.

"Bite down," she whispered, and pressed a kiss to his jaw. She rubbed thumb and forefinger around the ridge of his cock, the smallest jerks until his hips picked up the stuttering rhythm of arousal again. "Bite down."

The glass cracked when he bit down on it, broke in his mouth, and his eyes, priceless, the muscles tight around them, keeping them open so wide and so naive for her to look into and want to kiss, right on the eyeball, because that's where she could taste his innocence, maybe.

"That's good," she whispered to him, and she kept on jerking him as he bit down on the glass shard again, breaking it into smaller pieces.

"You'll be on your knees for him tonight, the lights all out and he'll stroll over like he owns you because he does, and you always wonder why you are on your knees for him faster than for anyone else."

She stroked him, smiled against his lips and kissed him again lightly, and his fingers on his cock picked up their rhythm from her.

"Does he make you," he laughed, "oh I know he does, he undresses you and tells you to kneel for him and so you do, and he tells you to spread your legs and so you do, and he pushes you forward until you do, and then he just looks at you."

Her cunt had been dripping wet by then, gaping at him and closing again like it was greedy for something inside and he'd obliged with thin pens, or a highlighter, closed scissors and she'd never come that hard from barely a touch.

Ianto was jerking himself harder, faster, with those small sounds in the back of his throat, and the glass he was chewing was quieter now, the pieces smaller, almost rubbed down to sand.

"You think of him when you go to her and wish it was him you jerk off on and not her, and you kneel in the loo and wish he was watching you, and maybe he is, with those cameras, and then you come out and he looks at you, just looks at you-"

She kissed Ianto again, slipped her hand up to his throat, his jaw, just lightly touching, and Ianto never lost his rhythm on his cock, just jerked himself faster, hips pushing against hers, fingers on her hip clenching in time.

"You come out, hand still reeking of your own come, and he just looks at you, and you know you love him." She stared into Ianto's eyes, "swallow," and he did and the glass slid down his throat as sand, a bitter aftertaste, and, "come," and he did with a high whine and a few tears in the corners of his eyes.

His hips stuttered in rhythm as he was milking the last drops of come from his cock, hips pushing for more and harder, the last rush of ecstacy in his body. She brushed his brows with her thumb, let him moan and move against her, let him sweat into her clothes and lose his tears in her hair until his body stopped jerking with the orgasm and only his heavy breathing was left in the air.

"The truth is," she whispered against the side of his face, "he doesn't love anyone, but he'll pretend as long as you open your legs and mouth for a fuck."

Ianto jerked in her hold, and she held him there for a moment longer and then let him jerk away from her, limp cock dangling from the open fly of his trousers, pink and shriveled.

"So did you," Ianto said, fingers still curled into the gaps between the stones of the wall, small town boy despair for control.

Suzie laughed. "It makes you feel like you own him, his cock in your mouth, and then you try to convince yourself, just wait for it, you'll try to convince yourself he loves you. It makes it easier." She picked the lightbulb off the floor. "Tell you another secret, I'd open my legs and mouth to him anytime, he'd just have to ask."

Ianto shook his head, wiped the back of his hand across his lips, belatedly remembered his cock and stuffed himself back inside, did himself up to look presentable again, if a little sweaty. Jack's footsteps sounded above them and Ianto's body jerked in recognition.

Suzie brought the light bulb to her lips, bit off a small shard and chewed it to sand. "It tastes like him, doesn't it?" 

But Ianto was already up the stairs and out of sight; washing his hands and doing up his hair, no doubt to look his best for Jack.

--

Note: In case there's concern about some elements: Link 1, Link 2 and a bit of creative freedom (mostly in regards to the timeframe).