Title: A Matter of Trust
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 5
Prompt: 43, Restraints
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea, Ianto." The Doctor looked worried, a frown creasing his brow as he looked over Ianto across the wide expanse of rumpled sheets on their bed.

Ianto turned onto his side, propping his head on one hand and reaching out his other hand to the Doctor. "Come here, love. I promise, I'm not going to push you into anything. I can understand why you're uneasy about being restrained, but you know, the only way you're going to get past that kind of fear is to confront it and conquer it."

The Doctor obeyed, crawling across the bed to lay down next to his lover, rolling onto his side and pressing back against the warmth of Ianto's body. The young man's strong arm circled his slender waist, pulling him back into an embrace that felt safe and protective.

"It's not that I don't trust you, love," he tried to explain, sighing softly and shaking his head. "I don't know how to explain it. The times that I've been forced to be with the Master .... I suppose they've had more of a bad effect on me than I'd thought."

"I don't blame you for that, beloved," Ianto said softly, his lips brushing against the Doctor's bare shoulder. "But you have to let youself get past that -- to realize that what he did to you is in the past, and leave it there where it belongs."

The Doctor was silent for a few moments, contemplating Ianto's words. When he spoke, his voice was slow, thoughtful.

"I hope you're right, Ianto, but somehow, I don't think so. I have a feeling that he's far from done with me."

Ianto's arms tightened around him, the young Welshman's lips moving to his jaw, his cheek. "He won't touch you again. I swear it." His voice was almost a primitive growl, his anger -- and, unbeknownst to Ianto, his own fear -- coming through in the inflection of those words.

A shiver went through the Doctor's body as his thoughts darted back to those hours -- the constant pain, the Master's taunting, the cruel violations that he'd suffered over and over again. It seemed to take his bodies longer and longer to heal from each attack, and he couldn't help wondering if the next encounter might be his last.

But what could it hurt to let Ianto restrain him when they made love? He certainly knew that it was his lover touching him; Ianto's gentle touch couldn't possibly ever be confused with the Master's physical cruelty in his mind. And Ianto was right -- the only way that he could put his fear behind him was to confront it head-on.

It wouldn't be a fear that was easy to conquer, but he could do it. With Ianto's help. As long as his love was patient with him, he was sure -- well, almost sure -- that he could get past his uneasiness.

After all, it was simply a matter of trust.

"All right, love," he whispered, holding his wrists together in front of his body and staring at them, as though they were somehow detached from the rest of him. "I suppose it can't hurt."

Ianto's only answer was to press another soft kiss to his shoulder, then cup his jaw to turn his face to the side. His young lover's lips covered his mouth, Ianto's hands turning him over onto his back and moving slowly down his sides.

The Doctor's slender body trembled under Ianto's touch, shudders of pleasure moving over his fragile frame. The young man's fingers moved over his stomach, his chest, teasing and tweaking each small nipple until the Doctor's body arched up off the bed and he let out a soft cry of pleasure.

He was so focused on what Ianto's hands -- and then his tongue -- were doing to his nipples that he scarcely noticed when those hands moved up his arms, capturing his thin wrists above his head. Ianto reached for the drawer of the bedside table, withdrawing a black silk scarf and twining it slowly around the Doctor's wrists before tying it securely to the rail at the top of the bed.

When the Doctor realized that he couldn't move his arms, his eyes widened, a panicked expression crossing his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ianto's finger on his lips quieted him; the young Welshman leaned down to brush a gentle kiss across the Time Lord's mouth, hands moving down his sides, soothing him.

"Shhh, beloved," he murmured, his fingertips trailing over the Doctor's hips, down to his inner thighs. "I promise, I won't hurt you."

The Doctor nodded, taking a deep breath and focusing on Ianto above him. This wasn't the Master, he reminded himself, fixing the image of Ianto's beautiful face in his mind. This was Ianto, his other half. The man he loved.

Ianto's mouth was moving down again, over his stomach, tongue trailing down one thigh, snatching the breath from his lungs. Those hands were spreading his legs, moving under his ass to lift his body off the bed, Ianto's tongue moving still lower .... Oh. Oh.

The Doctor's fists clenched, thin wrists twisting against his bonds. The pleasure coursing through his body was almost unbearable; he couldn't make a sound, could barely force air through his lungs. He was sure that he was going to explode with pleasure; Ianto's tongue inside him was going to drive him mad.

Just as he was sure he was approaching the edge of the most powerful orgasm he'd ever experienced, Ianto's tongue withdrew, those soft lips moving to wrap around the head of his cock. Ah, this was a different kind of pleasure, but no less intense.

He gasped as Ianto inserted a finger inside him, then another, moving them slowly in and out, each insertion more intense than the last. Finally, those fingers stilled, crooked, to stroke against his prostate as those lips slid down his shaft, taking all of his length into the warm cavern of that amazing mouth.

He was going to go mad if this kept up.

"Don't tease me, Ianto," he whispered, the only words that he could manage to get out.

Ianto let the Doctor's cock slip out of his mouth, his lips reddened and swollen from the intense sucking. He moved up, his mouth trailing over the Doctor's soft skin as he went, sucking and nibbling along the way. His fingers remained inside the Doctor, continuing to stroke and stimulate his prostate until the Time Lord groaned with need.

With a suddenness that was almost shocking, those warm, stroking fingers were gone, replaced by the large, blunt tip of Ianto's cock pressing against his entrance. The Doctor took a deep breath, trying to relax, waiting for Ianto to slide inside him.

No matter how many times he was penetrated, there was always that shock of pain at first, the protest of his tight muscles against the invasion of something as large as a cock pressing inside his body. This time was no different; the pain that centered between his legs, then the delicious warm pleasure that began to spread over his entire body.

His boyfriend's hand was on his cock, stroking him in the same rhythm that the delicious hard thrusts were moving in; the Doctor could feel himself spiralling, dizzy with desire, his breath coming in panting, ragged gasps as Ianto's hand moved almost roughly on his swollen erection. Each thrust was harder and deeper than the last, each movement drawing a gasp from his lungs.

Ianto had his knees pushed up to his chest, legs over the young Welshman's shoulders; the Doctor cried out at the sensations flowing through his body as Ianto pressed deeper inside him than he'd ever been. The Gallifreyan's stomach muscles tightened, his body starting to tremble in reaction. Ianto's deep thrusts were pushing him towards orgasm faster than he'd ever achieved it before.

The Doctor's last thought before his orgasm overtook him was that he'd been well and truly fucked -- but in a good way. Definitely a good way.

He barely felt Ianto's release; he was so caught up in his own pleasure that it took a few moments for his fogged brain to register the fact that Ianto's arms were around him, Ianto's lips were on his. The Doctor finally realized that his lover was gently pulling out of him and lowering his legs from their slightly uncomfortable position on his shoulders, Ianto's gentle fingers stroking his calves, then moving up his legs to caress his hips.

"That was ...." The Doctor had to take a deep breath; his lungs still felt constricted. ".... That was, without a doubt, the most incredible sex anyone could ever have."

Ianto's hands had moved to the top of the bed, freeing the Doctor's slender wrists from their silken shackles. He kissed the inside of each wrist, then placed tender kisses on each palm, finally leaning down to press a kiss to the Doctor's waiting, parted lips.

"You see, being restrained isn't so bad," he said softly, his strong arms sliding around the fragile man beside him, pulling the Doctor's limp body close against his own, one leg moving between the Time Lord's thighs.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about dealing with that particular fear any more," the Doctor said softly, nibbling at Ianto's earlobe.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were ready for another go," Ianto teased, fingers moving down the Doctor's chest to tease one small nipple to erection.

"Always," the Gallifreyan breathed, his eyes closing as Ianto's mouth came down on his again.

"I don't think that will be too much of a problem," the young Welshman murmured, already working his hands and mouth down the slender, willing body sprawled out next to him.

The Doctor's only answer was a soft moan of acquiescence.

***