Title: Can't Make A Sound
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 1, 50scenes
Prompt: 25, Gasp
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.

***

The Doctor leaned back into Ianto's arms, closing his eyes. His young lover's hands were moving over his chest, fingers deftly loosening the buttons on his shirt, pulling off his tie, stroking over his skin as more of it was revealed to that searching touch.

He loved being with the other man like this; they didn't need words to describe how they felt about each other. Everything he needed to know was in Ianto's gentle touch, in the way his lover's hands roamed over his body, the look in his eyes.

If a single touch could embody the word love, then Ianto's touch did. He wasn't only gentle; that word didn't even begin to describe the tenderness that seemed to flow through his fingertips into the Doctor's body.

The Time Lord gasped as Ianto's soft fingertips moved over one nipple, tweaking the sensitive bud and sending a flash of desire coursing through his body. The sensation seemed to go directly to his cock; all he could think of was how much he wanted Ianto touch him there.

But he'd have to be patient. His lover's warm hands were trailing down his chest, over his stomach, those nimble fingers loosening his trousers and starting to push them down.

The Doctor sighed softly as the fabric of his trousers slid over his thighs and down his legs to land at his feet; he stepped out of them and leaned back against Ianto, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder and letting his body relax.

One arm curled around his waist, pulling him back against Ianto's body; the Doctor squirmed slightly when he felt his lover's cock pressing insistently against his ass. At the rate they were going, it wouldn't take long for Ianto to be doing much more than merely touching him.

He wasn't going to rush things along, though. He enjoyed being touched, slowly and softly; he wanted to Ianto to take his time, to stretch this out and make it last as long as possible, to bring them both to the edge until they tumbled into the vortex together.

The Doctor closed his eyes, gasping as Ianto's soft hands trailed down his sides, resting on his hips for a few moments. His boyfriend's warm mouth was on the slender column of his throat, tracing fire down to his bare shoulder.

Between Ianto's hands and his mouth, he could almost feel his senses igniting, bursting into an inner flame that he had no intention of quenching. He wanted that flame to burn higher, to take him over until he was incinerated into a pile of smoldering ashes.

No one else had ever been able to reduce him to that; in all of his long life, Ianto was the only lover who'd ever had that kind of explosive effect on his senses.

Those gentle hands were sliding further down; one hand reaching around the front of his body to close around his swelling cock, the other moving behind him, slipping between their bodies. Another gasp was pulled from his throat when those searching fingers slid between his thighs.

There was no lube, but it didn't matter. The sharp, burning sting would only last for a few short moments, he knew -- then that pain would mutate into pleasure, a pleasure that would reach deep inside him and spread through his entire body.

He couldn't really classify the sensation as "pain," the Doctor thought as Ianto's fingers slid into him, the second quickly following the first. There was only a slight burning at his entrance, then a slow, building pleasure as he pushed his hips back against Ianto's hand.

Within moments, he was squirming and pressing his hips back, almost wanting to beg Ianto for more than just two fingers. But he couldn't make a sound, other than the soft gasps that were coming from his throat with each movement of those fingers inside him.

Another gasp came involuntarily as Ianto slowly slid his fingers out; the Doctor knew what was coming next, his muscles tensing, his senses taut with anticipation.

He gasped again when Ianto slid into him, the breath leaving his body for a few seconds. Again, he was unable to make a sound, or even catch his breath. All he could feel was the sensation of being filled, of becoming one with his lover.

The Doctor was bending over the console, pressed against it; his hands gripped the edge as though he was using it for leverage, to keep himself on his feet. For just a few moments, he needed that help to stand upright; his legs felt too weak and rubbery to hold him up.

But the moment of vertigo passed quickly; Ianto pulled the Time Lord back into his arms, one hand moving between his legs again to curl his fingers around his cock. The Doctor leaned back with a soft moan, his hips already moving in rhythm with Ianto's gentle thrusts.

He was too close already; he'd been at nearly a fever pitch of desire when this had started, and he wasn't going to be able to last long. Ianto's thrusts were coming more quickly now, the rhythm starting to get erratic; he was sure that his lover was as close to the edge as he himself was.

Their gasps were mingling in the still, quiet air of the Tardis; the Doctor could hear every sound that Ianto made. His senses were sharp and crystalline, glittering before his eyes, as though he could see the arc of passion and need melding together.

His orgasm began to unfold within him, reaching out, permeating every fiber of his being until it swept over him like a storm breaking, an explosion of sensation.

The Doctor leaned back against Ianto, breathing heavily, drawing in ragged gasps of air. Ianto was doing the same; apparently his young lover had been just as affected by their coupling as he was. He could feel the other man's chest heaving, hear his gasping breaths.

Gradually, his dual heartbeats began to settle down to a more sedate pace, his breathing becoming easier and less strident. But he still couldn't make a sound; words didn't want to come. There were no words for how he was feeling now.

Ianto had just taken him into another realm, and even if he hadn't had long to explore it, he'd at least caught a glimpse. He could have sworn that he had risen into the human concept of heaven, a paradise that tantalized him and made him want to see more of it.

And he'd shared it with the man he loved. The Doctor turned his head, nuzzling his cheek against Ianto's as his lover's arms tightened around him. It felt good to lean against that strong chest, to know that Ianto was there by his side, that he was safe in those arms.

Could he get words out yet? The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but no words came to his lips; it was as though they had all fled in the aftermath of such intense lovemaking.

But he didn't need words. He and Ianto had too much feeling between them to have any doubts in their minds of what the other felt; actions and words could melt into each other, creating a language between the two of them that only they understood.

He turned around in Ianto's arms, taking the other man's face between his hands and leaning forward for a gentle kiss, a kiss that quickly turned heated and passionate. A kiss that he knew would lead to more, in spite of the two of them being physically spent for the moment.

As he felt himself melting into Ianto's arms, the need to become one with the other man again spread over him like wildfire. The Doctor's last coherent thought was that they needed to make it to the bedroom this time -- or at least to a more comfortable location on the couch.

***