Title: Crazy Game
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: R
Table: 5
Prompt: 79, Dance
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

Ianto moved around the Tardis slowly, hands clasped behind his back. He really didn't want to pick up anything and examine it more closely, for fear that he'd do something wrong and anger the Doctor. Of course, he'd learned that the Doctor didn't get annoyed easily; or at least, if he did, he kept it to himself.

There was so much in here that he wanted to examine more closely, but he didn't dare. The Doctor had invited him here, for some strange reason, and he didn't want to seem too curious. He didn't know where the Time Lord had gone; he'd left Ianto in what appeared to be the main room, murmuring something about "being back in a few moments" and disappearing.

He felt at a distinct disadvantage. For one thing, he wasn't wearing his usual conservative suit; he hadn't been to work on this particular day, and he hadn't wanted to wear a suit to make what was, after all, more or less a friendly visit. Somehow the clothes that felt comfortable at work seemed as though they would be too stiff and formal in this situation.

So here he was, in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt, feeling that he was somehow stripped of an armor he was used to wearing around people he didn't know well. The situation shouldn't make him feel uncomfortable, he insisted silently, trying to convince himself of the truth of those words. The Doctor wasn't someone to be cautious of.

Just what was the situation, exactly? Ianto asked himself, wondering for what must have been the hundredth time just why the Doctor had invited him here. It wasn't as though they knew each other overly well -- enough to be acquaintances, but not enough to spend the day together. At least, not as far as Ianto was concerned.

Not that he wouldn't like to get to know the Time Lord better -- much, much better, Ianto thought, the idea bringing a warm blush to his face. He'd dreamed of the Doctor -- dreamed of the two of them entwined, their bodies in the most intimate positions he could have possibly imagined, making the Doctor squirm and writhe and cry out under him ....

Ianto quickly turned his mind from that particular line of thinking, before it got him into trouble. That was something he was quite sure that the Doctor wasn't interested in. After all, he'd had Jack -- and Ianto had more than enough personal experience in that quarter to know that Jack was irresistible.

How could he even begin to compare to the handsome immortal? Ianto snorted mentally, shaking his head and jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. That was the other main reason that he felt at such a disadvantage. He was fairly sure that Jack had been intimate with the Doctor at some point in their travels together -- and he didn't want to think about competing.

His own relationship with Jack was very hit-and-miss, at best. For him, it had begun to have the possibility of something deeper than just casual shagging; for Jack, he was sure that it went no deeper than that. It was a constant struggle to keep his own feelings hidden, to keep himself from falling harder than he knew he should.

And therein lay the largest part of the reason he'd accepted the Doctor's invitation to spend time with him today, Ianto said to himself, sighing and looking around the large central room again. Maybe, just maybe, a small part of him had been childishly hoping to somehow make Jack jealous -- make him think that he'd been with the Doctor.

Not that Jack would care. Not really. He would probably congratulate Ianto for having gotten lucky with someone so exotic. After all, Ianto reflected, formulating the image of the Time Lord's handsome features in his mind's eye, the Doctor was an extraordinarily beautiful man. He could certainly do a lot worse ....

"He wouldn't be jealous. In fact, he wanted you to come here."

Ianto whirled around, eyes widening at the sound of the Doctor's voice. When had the Time Lord managed to sneak into this room without being heard?

And how could any man manage to make button-fly jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt, and bare feet look so absolutely devastating? Even Jack had never looked that good.

"Why, thank you. You're looking quite attractive yourself, you know." The Doctor's voice was cheerful, the smile on his face not wavering as he leaned on the control console in the center of the Tardis.

"How .... How can you know what I'm thinking?" His mouth must be hanging open, gaping like a fish. Ianto didn't care. He was dumbfounded by the Doctor's apparently ability to read his mind without even trying.

"Telepath." The Time Lord pointed at his head with another smile, extending his other hand to Ianto. "And no, Jack didn't tell me to ask you here, in case that was your next thought. That was something I decided to do on my own. He only put the idea in my mind."

"Oh." Ianto couldn't think of anything to say -- to either of the Doctor's revelations. So, Jack had given the Time Lord the idea of inviting him here, hmmm? Ianto couldn't help but wonder just what Jack had on his mind with that. Was he trying to push Ianto towards the Doctor? Why? Did he have some sort of hidden agenda?

"Ianto ...." The Doctor was at his side, slipping one thin arm around his waist. "Jack doesn't have an agenda. He thought we would enjoy each other's company, that's all."

Ianto nodded, trying to smile nonchalantly. It was more than a little disconcerting to know that the Doctor could reach into his mind that easily; how was he going to keep any thoughts he shouldn't be having away from this man?

The Doctor turned to him, his dark eyes meeting Ianto's blue-grey ones. "That's the last time I'll do that, Ianto. I don't want you to feel violated. I don't usually pry into thoughts -- but yours were screaming crystal-clear in my head. It was impossible not to hear them."

"I'll try to keep the volume of my thoughts down," Ianto quipped, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Another burning blush swept over his face, and he looked down at his feet, trying to cover his embarrassment. Trust him to say the wrong thing.

"You don't have to," the Doctor murmured, his arm still around Ianto's waist. "Those thoughts were actually quite flattering. I wouldn't mind hearing more of them. And I was thinking very much the same thing about you, you know."

"You were?" Ianto's eyes met the Doctor's again, wide with surprise.

"Of course I was." Was he imagining it, or was the Doctor's voice becoming more husky, sliding down the scale a few notches -- sounding, well, sexy? The timbre of his voice was sending little chills along Ianto's spine -- very pleasant chills.

Ianto had nothing to say to that. He wasn't sure just what he should do; he compensated for his uneasiness by slipping his own arm around the Time Lord's waist, surprised at just how thin and fragile the slender body next to his own felt. He was sure that he'd have no problem lifting and carrying the Doctor, if the circumstances ever called for that.

Carrying him off to bed ....

His cheeks colored again, another chill running through him at the thought. From the look on the Doctor's face, the little half-smile curving his lips, Ianto was fairly sure that he'd managed to listen in on that thought, too.

"You're a very attractive man, you know." That sexy, husky voice again, close to his ear this time. Those lips were close enough for him to turn his head and capture them in a kiss ....

This wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all. He was having thoughts that he shouldn't even be thinking of, thoughts that were sure to get him into trouble that he couldn't get himself out of.

What could he say that would take his mind away from those thoughts? Ianto couldn't think of a single word, a single phrase, anything witty that would divert them from the path he was sure that not only his thoughts, but the Doctor's as well, were taking. He said the first thing that came to mind, desperate for words to breach the growing silence.

"Would you care to dance?" It was the only thing Ianto could think of to say that would divert his own thoughts from the dangerous direction they were taking. Dangerous for the Doctor, in a way, but far more so for himself.

It would be far, far too easy to lose his heart to this man. He couldn't let it happen. Surely that was something that would never be allowed, no matter how pleasant it might be, or how much he was beginning to think he wanted it.

"That would be lovely," the Doctor replied, his voice soft, his body pliant in Ianto's arms. He looked towards the console of the Tardis, and as if by magic, soft music filled the cavernous room, startling Ianto with its suddenness.

"Crazy game
I never should have started to play
But now you couldn't tear me away
Love is sweet, sweet baby
So good to you ...."


The music swirled around them, the slow rhythm of the song filling Ianto's senses. He couldn't help swaying his hips a bit, surprised when the Doctor followed suit, taking his hands and pulling him into the center of the room. His nervousness was starting to melt away; he felt much more at ease than he had since he'd walked through the door of the Tardis.

How had this happened? The Doctor was in his arms; they were making their way slowly around the large room, their bodies swaying against each other -- and he was leading. That was something he'd never gotten when he danced with Jack, this feeling of being in control, being the one in charge of the situation.

Greatly daring, he dipped the Doctor towards the floor, tightening his arm around that slender waist. The Time Lord was laughing when Ianto straightened them up again, his cheeks flushed, hair disheveled, eyes sparkling. He looked .... beautiful.

Ianto pulled the Doctor closer against him, a small gasp leaving his lips when the Time Lord's crotch pressed against his -- if he didn't know better, he'd swear that was his imagination. No. It wasn't. That was definitely an erection he felt.

Judging from the feel of it -- a very large erection.

So much for the old clichés about thin men not being overly well-endowed. The Doctor put the lie to that.

The Time Lord's dark eyes locked with Ianto's blue-grey ones, an invitation written loud and clear in those deep brown depths. Ianto knew that he should pull back, not get entangled. He should make some excuse, resist the siren call of the Doctor's eyes. He should leave. Now. Before he was in too deep to even thinking of pulling away.

He'd never been good at resisting temptation.

He dipped the Doctor again, pressing the other man close against his body when they were both upright again. The Doctor was almost panting, his eyes large and dark, his body trembling with .... what? Ianto liked to think it was anticipation.

It was more than obvious to him just what was going to happen between them. At this point, it was inevitable. There was no way either of them could stop it, even if they'd wanted to. And he most definitely didn't want to.

His hands slid down the Doctor's back, pulling the Time Lord's slender body close against his own, cupping that firm, rounded ass in his palms. He heard the Doctor's sharp intake of breath, felt the other man's muscles tense, then relax as he pressed his body against Ianto's.

He was holding the Doctor. His hands were on that ass, that perfect ass that he'd dreamed of since the first time he'd seen this man in the flesh, this elusive man that Jack had talked about constantly as though he was some kind of angel.

Their lips met, at first a bare brush against each other, then meeting and clinging in a long, deep kiss that seemed to sear Ianto to the depths of his soul. He felt as though he was falling into a pool of lava; the heat, the softness of the Doctor's mouth drawing him in. He never wanted the kiss to end -- he wanted to drown in this sensation for the rest of his days.

He was kissing the Doctor. The culmination of dozens of nights of empty dreaming, nights when he'd awaken and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and touching himself, wishing that he was touching the Doctor and knowing that dream would never come true.

Now .... those dreams were coming true. Every dream he'd ever had. All those dreams of what he wanted to do to the Doctor, dreams he'd thought would have no chance of fulfillment.

How in the hell had he gotten so lucky? It didn't matter. The only important thing was that it was happening, that it was reality and no longer only a dream.

His hands were sliding under the Doctor's shirt, fingertips moving over velvety skin, making the Time Lord moan softly and squirm under Ianto's hands. Ianto desperately wanted his lips to follow his hands, to trail fire over the Doctor's skin, to cover every inch of that beautiful body with kisses. He wanted to brand that body as his. His property.

"The bedroom is that way," the Doctor whispered in his ear, his voice breathless, almost gasping, pointing to what looked like a darkened hallway off to one side of the room they were in. "It's not far, I promise."

"A bed would be much more comfortable than taking you on the floor," Ianto murmured, nibbling at the Doctor's earlobe, causing a shiver to run through the Time Lord's slim body. "Though that could prove to be interesting, too."

So saying, he moved his hands back down to cup the Doctor's ass again, lifting the slender Time Lord into his arms. The Doctor wrapped long legs around Ianto's waist, clasping his arms around the young man's neck, resting his forehead against Ianto's shoulder as he was carried out of the main room, down the hallway to bed.

It was a good thing Jack wasn't expecting him to come in today, Ianto reflected. He had a feeling that he'd be incommunicado for a very long time.

***