Title: Rainy Monday
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 5
Prompt: 25, Grumpy
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.

***

Ianto stalked through the front room of the Hub, scowling at his teammates until he reached his office. He was tempted to slam the door, but that would only bring Jack sauntering in to give him some kind of lecture about how he shouldn't be so put out at a few extra hours at work, he thought sourly, glaring at the door for good measure.

Of course, he'd never minded working late -- even staying at Torchwood all night -- before the Doctor had come into his life. But now .... now he had someone who made his heart race, someone who he wanted to spend his time with. He didn't fancy spending not only his days, but a good part of his nights as well, sitting behind a desk working on something that was probably nothing more than a wild-goose chase.

Even the weather wasn't cooperating. Ianto glanced out of the window, his scowl deepening. He'd never liked rainy days; somehow, they always added to the depressing greyness that seemed to permeate Cardiff. It was days like this that he wanted to spend in bed with the Doctor, losing himself in his love's body and forgetting that the rest of the world existed.

Sighing, he sat down behind his desk, a few choice curse words slipping out when his toe made contact -- hard -- with the edge of the immovable desk leg. Ianto had to resist the urge to kick it again, just to make his annoyance known. That would be stupid, he told himself. It would only make his foot throb more than it already was.

He leaned back in the desk chair, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at the door of his office. It was a satisfying position; Ianto knew that the look on his face left everyone there in no doubt of the fact that he was angry at being here, and that he would rather be anywhere else but in Torchwood at the moment.

The only problem with the sour look was that he couldn't wear it for long. As much as he wanted to act like a petulant child who was being kept in detention, it wasn't in Ianto's nature to spend his time sulking and not being productive. After a few minutes of trying his best to imitate a black thundercloud, he sighed again and sat up, reaching for one of the dossiers that littered the desk.

Maybe if he concentrated on his work, the time would go by more quickly. Ianto turned on his computer, focusing on the screen in front of him and trying to push thoughts of his lover out of his mind.

But he couldn't quite manage to do it. As his eyes skimmed along the information on the screen, a word would jump out at him here and there, making him think of something that the Doctor had said or done. Ianto finally turned off the monitor, sitting back in his chair and closing his eyes, letting thoughts of the Time Lord fill his consciousness.

The Doctor laughing in the sunlight that had poured down on them when they'd had a picnic in one of the small parks outside of the city .... the Doctor waking beside him in the morning, those impossibly long lashes fluttering open to disclose dark, fathomless eyes .... the almost desperate moans coming from the Time Lord's throat when they were making love .... the feel of the Doctor's soft lips under his own, that incredible velvety skin ....

Ianto rubbed at his eyes, wishing that he hadn't let his mind stray in this direction. Thinking of the Doctor was only making him feel like grabbing his coat and bolting out of the door, and to hell with what Jack and the rest of the team might think. If only he had that option, he thought silently, his gaze lingering longingly on the door of his office.

He didn't, and he might as well get used to it. The rain was pouring down, the Doctor was at home in the flat several blocks away, and he was stuck here at Torchwood -- and there wasn't a bloody thing he could do about it. Ianto wanted to pound his fists against the wall in frustration, grind his teeth together in annoyance.

Wonderful. Now he was not only annoyed at having to spend a longer time than he'd originally thought he would be at work, but the random thoughts of the Doctor had given him a raging erection as well.

A purposeful knock at the door of the Hub made him look towards the door, his brow furrowing. Who in the hell would be here? It wasn't as though people chose to drop by Torchwood for a friendly visit.

It was probably someone from the police force, he told himself, sitting up and straightening his tie. He didn't particularly need to try to make a good impression on the police, but old habits died hard. It had been drummed into his head when he was a child that presentation was important, and Ianto had never outgrown those old lessons.

Jack was heading towards the door. Good. That meant that he wouldn't be expected to get up and answer it. One thing that Ianto was definitely tired of was being the glorified butler, maid, and secretary for the team.

Ianto didn't look up; whoever it was probably there to see Jack, and wouldn't even give him a second glance. Besides, he wasn't in the mood to be obsequiously friendly.

"Did you know that it's pouring rain? And on a Monday, at that."

Ianto's head jerked up, his eyes widening.

The Doctor was leaning against the doorway of his office, smiling at him and shaking droplets of water from the umbrella he'd been carrying.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" They were the only words Ianto could think of to say; it seemed completely amazing to him that his lover had taken the time to go out into a rainy, grey day and walk to his office. Nobody he'd ever been involved with before would have done anything like that just to have his company.

"He's here because of me." Jack poked his head into the doorway, flashing Ianto an irrepressible grin. "I was tired of you grumping around the office all day, and I figured you wouldn't want to be here late, no matter how much we needed you here. So since the mountain couldn't go to Mohammed, I decided to bring Mohammed here."

The Doctor came into Ianto's office, crossing the expanse of floor to where the young man was sitting behind his desk. He glanced downwards, brows raising at the sight of Ianto's obvious arousal, flashing a wicked smile at his young lover.

Leaning towards the Welshman, the Doctor whispered softly, his words meant for Ianto's ears only. "I take it you must have been thinking of me, my love."

"Always," Ianto murmured, closing his eyes and basking in the unexpected nearness of his love. He wanted to close the office door, lift the Doctor onto his desk, sweep everything there out of the way and take the Time Lord on the polished mahogany surface.

The Doctor's thoughts were obviously moving in the same direction. He turned to Jack, waving one thin hand in the air as he spoke.

"If you don't mind, Jack, I think Ianto and I need a bit of privacy." His voice was friendly, yet more authoritative than Ianto had ever heard him sound. He was seeing a whole new side of the Doctor; the side of him that had managed to keep Jack in line when they were traveling through time together.

Jack nodded, stepping back from the door. "Oh, I think that can be arranged. And we'll ignore any .... sounds we might hear."

"Thank you, Jack." The Doctor sounded amused, his voice poised on the edge of laughter. He headed for the door, placing a hand on the doorknob to push it closed and lock it behind the other man.

Ianto could see Jack turn and wink at the Doctor just before the door closed, the latch clicking as the Doctor locked it from the inside.

The Time Lord sauntered back across the room, stopping behind the desk and leaning on it to look down at his young lover. "Now, where were we?" he murmured, his gaze locking with Ianto's, his voice husky and a little breathless.

Ianto stood up and picked up his laptop, carefully sitting it on the small table next to his desk. Moving to stand in front of the Doctor, he slipped one arm around the other man's waist, using his other hand to sweep the files and papers onto the floor. To hell with them; there was only one thing that occupied his mind now. Work could wait.

"I think we were here." His own voice was more than a little breathy, his heart beating double time against his rib cage.

"There's no other place I want to be," the Doctor whispered, letting Ianto push him down onto the polished surface of the desk. The Welshman's fingers made quick work of the buttons on the Time Lord's shirt, the Doctor's own hands doing the same to his lover's clothing until they were both bare.

Just this once, Ianto reflected as his hands moved down the Doctor's body, maybe it wasn't so bad to be expected to work late.

***