Title: Under the Surface
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 4
Prompt: 26, Feel
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 sighed, resting his forehead against one hand and running the other through his hair. It had been quite some time now since he, Jack and Owen had rescued the Doctor from the Master's clutches, and outwardly, things were going well between them. Yes, they were slowly working their way back to what they had been before, in some ways.

Well, maybe not what they'd been before all of this happened, he told himself. Hopefully, they were working towards something better, a stronger relationship than they'd shared in the past. It was what they both hoped to do, at any rate. But Ianto couldn't shake the feeling that there was something fundamentally wrong, something that couldn't quite be seen, hovering just beneath the seemingly placid surface.

He'd thought about it quite a lot lately, though he couldn't put his feelings into words. How could he? He knew that if he did, he'd more than likely upset the Doctor -- and the last thing he wanted to do was to send the Time Lord running back into the vastness of space and time again. He'd done that once -- he wouldn't risk it happening again.

But that didn't change the fact that there was something wrong. Maybe it was just his imagination, he thought ruefully, acknowledging inwardly that he had a definite tendency to let his mind create problems where none existed. That was a large part of what had started all this trouble in the first place.

No, it wasn't just that. He sighed again, turning in his chair and resting his arms across the back of it. There was more to their problems than things that loomed large in his mind -- and he'd have to face things and confront the Doctor about them sooner or later. After all, if they didn't communicate, then those problems were only going to grow worse and worse as time went on, until they couldn't be fixed.

He'd barely touched the Doctor since the three of them had brought him back. Oh, they'd held each other, shared kisses, touched in impersonal ways. The Doctor had fallen asleep in his arms at night, and woken next to him in the mornings. Their relationship had resumed, seemingly normal on the outside.

With one very large difference. They hadn't actually had sex in the weeks since the Time Lord had been rescued. They'd come close -- but it hadn't happened. Ianto had always held back, or the Doctor hadn't seemed receptive. And he hadn't wanted to push for what the Gallifreyan might not be willing to give.

Ianto didn't want something as seemingly small as the lack of a sex life tear them to shreds. He was sure that it was mainly due to what the Doctor had suffered at the Master's hands; if he'd been the one to go through that, he would be skittish about having anything sexual done to him. He couldn't blame the Doctor at all for his apparent lack of sexual desire. He couldn't be expected to welcome it, not after what the Master had subjected him to.

But Ianto was becoming increasingly frustrated -- and a part of him was sure that the Doctor was, as well. He missed making love to the Time Lord, missed being able to join their bodies in the most intimate of embraces. And he wanted the Doctor more with each passing day -- so much so that he was becoming afraid of what he might do.

No! His mind pushed that possibility as far away as he could, refusing to countenance it. He would never do anything to hurt the Doctor. Never. That would make him no better than the Master -- and he wasn't going to sink to those depraved depths. He'd kill himself first, rather than let himself become that kind of a monster.

What would happen if his baser instincts got the better of him? Ianto shrank away from the thought. He didn't want to believe that he could force the Doctor into anything the Time Lord didn't want -- but he wasn't such a fool as to think that if he was pushed far enough, those desires wouldn't take over and make him do something that he would bitterly regret.

Maybe he should talk about this with the Doctor .... but what would he say? The young man sighed again, wondering if the Doctor could sense his feelings. After all, the Gallifreyan was telepathic -- and the Doctor had been able to read his thoughts before. He'd said that there were times when Ianto's mind screamed so loudly into his that he couldn't help but know what his lover was thinking.

As if his thoughts had drawn the Time Lord to his side, the Doctor appeared in the doorway of the living room, looking over at Ianto with a quizzical expression on his handsome features. He looked perplexed, as though there was something nagging at him but he couldn't quite fathom what it was, his brow furrowed in a frown.

"Ianto ...." The young man nodded, getting up and going to the Time Lord, slipping one arm around the other man's slender waist. The Doctor leaned against him; at least he wasn't pulling away or refusing to be touched at all, Ianto thought, feeling relieved that he could at least do this much. It wasn't everything he wanted, of course, but it was certainly better than nothing at all. "Is something wrong?"

Ianto wanted to shake his head, to tell the Doctor that there was nothing bothering him, but the Time Lord knew him too well for that. There was no way he could dissemble, no way that he could assure the Doctor that everything was all right. The Gallifreyan would know that he wasn't telling the truth -- and that would drive yet another wedge between them.

"I was thinking about how things have changed between us since ...." His voice trailed off; he wasn't quite sure how to put his thoughts into words. But the Doctor obviously understood what he was referring to; the Time Lord was nodding, a soft sigh leaving his lips, his body leaning against Ianto's more heavily.

"I know that everything hasn't been the way it was," he murmured, looking down as though he didn't want to face his lover. Ianto slid his other arm around the Gallifreyan's waist, pulling the Time Lord more closely against him, gratified when the Doctor rested his forehead against his shoulder and slid his own arms around Ianto's waist.

He raised one hand to stroke the Doctor's hair, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against the top of the other man's head. It was moments like this that he was learning to live for -- the Doctor in his arms, those dual hearts beating against his own. But it wasn't enough; the more he touched this man, the more he craved. No, the more he needed.

"I'm sorry, Ianto," the Doctor whispered, sounding as if he was on the verge of tears. "I haven't been what you've needed over the past weeks, have I?" He sounded depressed, defeated; Ianto lifted his head, his brows arching up, surprised at the tone of the Doctor's voice. It had been a long time since he'd heard the Time Lord sound like this.

"It isn't your fault, love," he assured the Doctor, wanting to make the other man understand that their problems weren't solely his fault. "But it's something that we need to talk about, if we want our relationship to stay solid." His arms tightened around the Doctor, drawing the Time Lord closer against him.

The Doctor raised his face to Ianto's, shaking his head. "I don't think we need to talk, Ianto. I think we need to .... do." He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Ianto's cheek, whispering in his ear. "I need you to touch me, Ianto. I need to have your hands on my body. I've needed that for too long -- and it's past time that we did more than just dance politely around each other."

Ianto couldn't answer; all he could do was groan in agreement, moving his hands down the Doctor's back to cup his ass. The other man's words were all the encouragement he needed; this was what he'd been aching to do for weeks, but had been too afraid to ask for. Maybe if he'd been able to override his fear of losing the Doctor again, they wouldn't have wasted so much time when they could have been together.

That didn't matter now, he told himself, moving his hands under the Doctor's shirt, pushing it up and over the Time Lord's head. The Doctor raised his arms, letting Ianto pull the fabric up and off. He sighed softly as Ianto's hands moved over his skin, the younger man's slightly calloused fingertips tracing patterns down his back.

He didn't know how they'd made it to the couch; one moment, they were standing in the middle of the room, and the next, he was lowering the Doctor onto the velvety cushions, pressing the Time Lord down and leaning over him. His hands were at the button fly of the other man's jeans, opening them, pulling them down and off, leaving the Doctor's slender, pale body bare beneath his searching hands and mouth.

Ianto couldn't stop kissing the Doctor, cupping that beautiful face between his hands and covering the other man's mouth with his own. He felt as though he was drinking the Time Lord in, that he'd been dying of thirst in an arid desert, and the Doctor was an oasis offered to him so that he could drink his fill.

The Time Lord was tugging at his shirt, pulling it over his head, those hands moving over his skin. Ianto could feel his heart accelerating, his breathing becoming ragged as desire rose up in him. He hadn't thought that their eventual coming together would be here, on the couch, but he wasn't about to stop and insist that they take this to the bedroom. He'd waited too long -- and apparently, so had the Doctor.

His hands were moving of their own accord, exploring the Doctor's body, re-familiarizing himself with all the curves and tender spots. He heard the Time Lord moan, the sound barely registering in his fevered mind. All he could think of was that the Doctor was naked in his arms, after what felt like nearly a lifetime of waiting.

The Doctor was trying to unzip his trousers, but was having a difficult time of it; Ianto raised his hips, trying to give the Doctor more room to maneuver. Finally, the zipper came down; he could feel the Time Lord sliding the fabric down his thighs, those soft hands like velvet on his skin.

Ianto kicked his trousers off, laying down full length on top of the Doctor. He was more than a little surprised when the Time Lord wrapped long, slender legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in the warmth of the Doctor's body, but he wasn't going to do that without making sure that the Time Lord was fully prepared for him first.

Glancing around, his eyes fell on the small table by the side of the couch, just above the Doctor's head. Unless he was mistaken, there should be a tube of lubricant in the drawer of that table .... he reached out an arm, pulling open the drawer and rummaging in it for a few moments before his fingers closed around the small tube.

He lost no time in squeezing some of the thick substance onto his fingers, his mouth meeting the Doctor's as his hand moved between the Time Lord's legs. The Doctor moaned when Ianto's fingers pressed against his entrance, his hips flexing when he was penetrated. Ianto could feel the Doctor's nails digging into his back; it would have been painful if he'd taken much notice of it, but at the moment, he was too wrapped up in the man beneath him to care.

Ianto carefully scissored his fingers inside the Doctor, preparing him, trying to be as gentle as he could even though his mind screamed at him to hurry. The Doctor was whimpering into his mouth, the other man's body nearly wrapped around his own. All he could think of was how badly he wanted the Doctor; every other thought seemed of no consequence.

There was no questioning, no waiting. Ianto let his fingers slide out of the Time Lord, then slipped his hands beneath the Doctor's ass and lifting him slightly before plunging into him in one smooth, quick movement. The Doctor cried out, his legs wrapping around Ianto's waist again, his nails digging even more deeply into the young man's back.

Nothing in the world could compare to this, Ianto thought, his senses whirling, his mind attuned to the movements of the man he was joined with. His hips thrust forward, into the most incredible heat he could imagine, burying himself deep inside the Doctor. The Time Lord was clasped in his arms, against his heart; he wanted the two of them to stay locked together like this forever, wanted to make time stand still.

The Doctor was meeting his thrusts with movements of his own, soft sounds coming from his throat; Ianto couldn't remember their coupling ever having been this intense before. His own moans were becoming louder and more sustained, his thrusts more erratic. As much as he wanted to hold out and make this last, he knew that he wouldn't be able to do so.

But he was determined to make sure that the Doctor came first; he wanted to give the Time Lord as much pleasure as he possibly could, especially after what the other man had suffered at the Master's hands. He moved his hands down the Time Lord's sides, feeling the Doctor's body arch upwards into his own, crushing the Doctor's slim body against his when the Gallifreyan pulled his head down for a heady, bruising kiss.

He could hear the Doctor's ragged breathing, hot against his ear, feel the other man's body start to tremble. That was sure sign that the Doctor was on the verge of orgasm; almost as soon as the thought coalesced in Ianto's mind, the Time Lord cried out his name, his body going rigid for a few seconds, then shuddering as he came.

Ianto couldn't hold himself back any longer; the Doctor's muscles spasming around him brought him to his own climax, more forcefully than he'd thought was possible. He almost collapsed on top of his lover, but he managed to hold himself up, not wanting to let his weight rest entirely on the slender man pinned beneath him on the couch.

They both lay there for several long minutes, gasping, panting, trying to catch their breath. After a while, Ianto raised a hand, smoothing back strands of the Doctor's damp hair from his forehead and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the corner of the Time Lord's mouth. The Doctor opened his eyes, smiling up at him, raising a hand to rest it against his cheek.

"It's been far too long since we've done that, hasn't it?" the Doctor asked softly, his voice raspy. He cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed. "I'm afraid that's my fault, Ianto. I shouldn't have made you feel that you couldn't approach me. I'm sorry about that -- but I hope we're well past that awkward stage now."

"I'd say we definitely are," Ianto murmured, stroking his knuckles down the Time Lord's cheek, a smile curving his lips. He was still buried inside the other man; he was reluctant to pull out, wanting to luxuriate in the heat of the Doctor's body for as long as he could. It felt as though he waited forever to feel like this -- but the wait had been worth it.

The Doctor shifted slightly, and Ianto realized that having a cock inside him at the moment might be uncomfortable for the other man; he moved his hips upward, reluctantly sliding out of the Doctor and settling himself on the couch next to the Time Lord. The Doctor turned towards him, snuggling into his arms and closing his eyes.

"Do you want to sleep here on the couch, love?" he asked softly, pressing his lips against the Doctor's forehead and looking down at the other man. The Doctor looked utterly peaceful for the first time since they'd brought him back; Ianto couldn't help but feel smug. He had put that look of happiness on the Doctor's face.

"I don't think I could make it to the bedroom," the Time Lord answered after a moment, his voice thick with weariness. "If you don't mind sleeping here ...."

"Of course I don't," Ianto hastened to assure him, pulling at the blanket that he kept laying over the back of the couch. He spread it out over the two of them, thankful that his couch was large and comfortable. It would actually be rather pleasant to spend the night here, with the Doctor curled into his arms.

"Then let's stay here. It's rather comfortable. Good night, Ianto," the Doctor murmured, his eyes already closed, his cheek resting against his lover's chest. Ianto kept his gaze fixed on the Time Lord's face until the other man's quiet, steady breathing told him that his beloved was sleeping soundly.

"Good night, my love," he whispered, brushing a gentle kiss across the Doctor's forehead. He felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders -- and from his heart. They were one again, both emotionally and physically. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed having this feeling of closeness, knowing that the Doctor belonged to him.

Ianto didn't let himself think about the Master, the dark shadow that the other Time Lord cast over their lives. They were away from him, safe here in Cardiff. And the next time they were out there in time and space, they would avoid him. They would just have to be very careful and more alert, that was all.

Could they do that? he asked himself, his arms tightening around the Doctor. Could they manage to avoid the Master -- especially if he came looking for them? They'd tried to do so before, and somehow, he always found his way to them. He was like the proverbial bad penny that always turned up, no matter how far away they tried to get.

Ianto pushed those thoughts of the Master out of his head, pulling the blanket up around the Doctor's shoulders and closing his own eyes. They could cross those bridges when they came to them -- but for the moment, he needed to sleep. Within a few moments, he too was slumbering, his arms tightening around his lover as the Doctor shivered and moved closer in his sleep.

***