fic: My Punishment (chapter 110)

Title: My Punishment chapter 110
Author Name: troubleseekers
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Summary: Ianto almost releases a Cyberwoman into the world and endangers the team; there will be consequences.
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: sadly, I do not own any of the characters. As such I don't make any money off of the stories that worm their way through my brain and out onto a keyboard.
Word Count: 2587
Short but sweet? Nah.

Short but intense? Yeah ...

This chapter had been milling around in my head for a while, but I couldn't put it into words. Then kinda wrote it all out in one three hour writing spree. I tried to edit it (truly, I did) but I couldn't bear changing things, or waiting till tomorrow to post. So here it is, in all its (probably mistake filled) glory?


"Ianto. Come here."

Setting his dust cloth to the side, Ianto hurried over to Gwen's desk. Just the tone of her voice was enough to tell him there was something wrong.

The boy wasn't sure what was bothering the woman. All he could hope, was that she was calling him over to assist her in clearing her mood, and not to tell him he'd failed her in some way. Already, his mind few back to everything he'd done for Gwen so far. The quality of her coffee. The state of the floor around her desk. The tone of his voice as he bid her goodmorning.

Any one of his actions could have angered her. And even if he wasn't the direct cause of her ire, he knew hurting him had often made Jack feel better. Of course, Gwen had never directly punished him before, but she'd never let a single mistake go without telling his master.

"Yes, Gwen?"

He stepped lightly, keeping his head and eyes down. Keeping his hands behind his back so his fidgeting fingers were out of sight was second nature. The little dip – almost a curtsy – was what was left of the earlier kneel.

Jack had instructed him very clearly on how he was to act as a boy in clothes. He wasn't to kneel on the floor unless specifically instructed to do so. It hadn't been said exactly, but Ianto was sure it was to save his clothes. He was so very, very grateful to be allowed to walk around dressed. Being allowed to stand, and go easy on the bottoms was a mercy he didn't forget.

Still. He'd been very thoroughly trained to kneel when around his betters. Pain had been applied swiftly and mercilessly any time he'd been slow on getting on the floor. With such diligent conditioning, he'd learnt quickly to fall to the ground at a moment's notice.

The painful reminders when he misbehaved – whenever he tried to kneel when dressed – weren't being applied this time round. Ianto was sure that even the mild curtsy would have disappeared entirely if he'd been corrected the first few times he'd made the mistake.

But that sort of thinking came dangerously close to questioning his owners. And that, he knew would not go by unpunished. Ever.

"Can I serve you?"

Gwen swivelled her chair around to face him. The height he had on his better while she sat, made the boy uncomfortable, and he had to actively repress the urge to once again kneel. Thankfully, this time he managed to stop his legs from moving at all.

"I don't know, Ianto. Can you?"

Gwen's tone was snide, and the boy's hands clenched tightly together behind his back. She was angry with him. He'd done something wrong.

"I'll always do my best to serve you, Gwen. I swear."

He either completed a task, or he suffered the consequences. There was no in between for the office slave. No matter that he was called boy now.

"Really now?"

Ianto had no idea what he'd done wrong. And Gwen wasn't giving him any hints. So he couldn't try apologising for his mistake. All he had were rote answers, and the truth.

"Yes, Gwen. I serve Torchwood and its operatives."

Gwen drummed her fingers against her chair's armrests, minutely swivelling the chair from side to side. Even with his eyes down, Ianto could see her expression clear as day. Gwen was pissed off, and she wasn't trying to conceal it. But he still had no idea where this was going.

"Because you're just so loyal to this place. To us."

Ianto's heart skipped a beat as its pace became more frantic.

"Yes. Yes, Gwen. I'm loyal."

He was. His loyalty was all he had left. His obedience. His willingness to serve. His voice broke as he continued.

"Please. May I serve you?"

He was nothing but his service. Barely human.

"You'd never try to hurt us, would you? Again."

Ianto hadn't been aware that he'd moved, until he saw his own hands held out pleadingly. He'd never hurt Torchwood. The urge to kneel, to show Gwen that he wasn't getting high ideas, had his legs shaking. The clothes hadn't made him think he was any more human than the thing had been. The earpiece hadn't made him more confident in his place in the light.


Unable to focus on his hands – he wasn't supposed to kneel, not when he was dressed, he knew the rules – they shuddered out in front of him. Palms out, imploring nonviolence.

"I'd never try to hurt anyone. I can't. I wouldn't. I'd never want to try. Not anymore. Please."

Unfazed, Gwen jerked her chin towards her laptop.

"You sure? Cause ever since they let you play with the computers, my laptop has been running suspiciously slow."

Ianto's world crumbled. Pain radiated up from his knees, and Gwen loomed large over him.


It was a broken whisper. It was a truth.

He hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't. He'd obeyed. He'd been good. He'd never wanted to do anything wrong. It just wasn't possible.

The punishment for a crime like that would be insane. He'd never dare to even plan it. He'd never want to.

He served Torchwood. He didn't try to harm his owners.


His hands were moving again. Imploring mercy just as much as his words.

"I swear I didn't."

His cheeks felt wet. Gwen's face blurred. And the boy was dimly aware that he was crying. That – and he'd failed in remaining on his feet.

The punishment for that would at least be deserved. The one he'd get for this accusation – that wouldn't be.

"Please. Please. Please."

His tongue tripped over itself trying to get words out. Only the broken plea managed to slip out as he shook.

"I didn't. I swear I didn't."

He hadn't! All he'd done was followed instructions.

Gwen had to see that. Had to believe it. She had to realise it. Before_

Before Jack came. His master would be livid at this possible attempt at revenge. Except it wasn't one! He hadn't ever tried anything! He was – for once in his miserable life – innocent.

Terrified, he inched closer to Gwen's chair. Her feet. He was safe at their feet.


He had to find words. He had to explain. Had to defend his innocence. Had to show her he hadn't done what she was accusing him of. He had to speak.

He had to speak around the panting, shallow breaths and the tears.



Jack's authoritive voice rang out across the hub. And Ianto froze. One hand extended towards Gwen's left foot.

His time was up.

Partially blinded by tears, lungs burning with too much air, too quickly, he trembled.

"What's going on here?"

Slowly – so very, very slowly. So very, very unthreatening – Ianto pulled his hand back.

Perhaps he could still explain things. Jack had been so accommodating recently. He twisted his head around and up, turning blurry eyes on his master. He didn't need sight though. All he needed was for his owner to see how cowed he was.


The sound was wet from the tears that had slipped between his lips.

"Please. I didn't."


"I swear!"

He'd have shouted if he'd had the air to. Instead, he managed to gasp just a bit louder.


Eyes wide, unblinking, Ianto felt his body return to its original position. Tears dripping down onto the floor he stared at.


It was a tiny sound. As if his negation could turn the situation around.

Above him, his owners were speaking. He didn't even try to listen.

It was all over.

Gwen would tell Jack what she thought he'd done. And Jack would have him scream. And then there'd be darkness. Nothing but darkness.


He drew it out this time. A teeny, pathetic attempt to get the truth out there. A truth that wouldn't matter to anyone.

He was a slave. They wouldn't need evidence to hurt him. And his word was worthless. No one would believe him.


Jack's voice broke through his defeated spiral. With a wet sob, the boy hunched his shoulders, and lifted his head.

"Please. I swear. I'd never."

His owner crouched down, and the boy saw a blurry hand reach for his face. His eyes flinched shut. Waiting for the pain that didn't come left him reeling. He barely registered the fingers wiping at his cheeks.

The hands left him, and he cowered down. Lips silently forming the words running through his mind. No right to try and plead. He deserved pain. It didn't matter that he was innocent – he deserved pain for so many other sins it hardly mattered which one he would be suffering for. He shook in anticipation.

"Are you listening?"

Gasping for frantic little breaths – he had to keep breathing – Ianto nodded. He'd always listen to his master. He'd always obey.

"Go wait for me in my office. Ok?"

Hands helped him stand up, once again wiping at his tears and clearing his eyes. It allowed him to see a slightly shell-shocked Gwen sitting back in her chair, and a determined Jack holding him up.

Determined to obey, the boy found his feet. It wouldn't do for Jack to have to hold his slave up.

Chin pressed against his chest, he nodded his understanding and submission. Unable to stop the trembling of his hands and lip, he hurried off to his purgatory .

Soon, he knelt in the centre of his owner's office. Shaking minutely, he locked himself into position. Head down. Arms up in his neck. Legs wide.

The boots in the entryway didn't startle him. He'd watched them come closer and closer, after he'd heard them approach. Biting his lip hard, he squeezed his eyes shut, only to open them as wide as possible at once.

He'd be in enforced darkness soon enough. Darkness that would never leave him, no matter how wide he opened his eyes. He'd need to relish every last second of light.


Jack began, and trailed off.

Ianto couldn't see anything above the older man's ankles – he didn't know what his master was holding. He'd feel it soon enough.


Jack tried again, but once again seemed to be at a loss for words.

The boy couldn't blame him. It wasn't every day, that the boy you thought you'd been training into a capable tool turned on you and tried to disable your computer systems. Except he hadn't done that. Hadn't tried to even.

He shook. Breathed shallowly. Knees scraping through the thin cloth that barely cushioned them.

For once. Just once. He'd be punished for something he hadn't done. Just this once. He'd not deserve it for the reasons Jack thought he did.

And it wasn't fair.

The words built in his chest as the silence festered. With each panicked inhale, the tension grew. His flimsy control stretched thin over feelings he wasn't meant to even have. Eyes still wide open – barely blinking, and becoming dry; itchy even – the boy's lips started to tingle.

As Jack took another deep breath. Probably intending to give his aborted conversation another try. Ianto's bubble burst.

His body shuddered into motion, and broken words spilled from his lips. There was no flurry of motion. No speech of innocence. Just a terrified slave crawling toward the perceived safety of his owner's boots with leaden limbs that barely managed to function. A hoarse voice – who knew nothing but breathing could rub a throat so raw – stumbling over fragmented thoughts.

He was innocent.

He hadn't tried to sabotage the computers. He'd never betray Torchwood. He'd never try to hurt his betters. He'd never try to harm his home. Never try to go against orders. Never try to do things that hadn't been expressly ordered. Never dare touch a computer without clear instructions. And he'd had instructions. Instructions he'd followed to the letter. So he couldn’t be the cause of Gwen's computer slowing down. He couldn't be. And if he was. It was an accident. Not a malicious action. Never a malicious action. No intent to be bad even. He'd wanted to be good. He'd tried so hard to be good.

Oh God please, he'd tried to be good.

Unsure just how much of this he was even communicating in a way that was remotely comprehensible, the boy did not know. All he knew, was that he'd broken position to end up lying prostrate in front of his master's feet. He didn't dare touch him though. No.

Fingers curled uselessly fractions of an inch away from the leather he knew so intimately.

A single hand pushed down into his hair, and Ianto stopped moving altogether.

"I know. Ianto."

The boy's brain had come to a screeching halt alongside his body.

Jack knew … what?

His master always knew when he'd misbehaved – sometimes before he himself had known – but this didn't seem like that.

"I know you'd never try to boycott the servers."

Right. Right. Gwen had thought ... and then Jack had been angry … But Jack knew he hadn't … wait?

"You do?"

The question bubbled through tears and snot smeared across both his face and the floor, but Jack heard him. The hand a frim pressure on the back of his skull.

"Of course I know, Ianto."

Ianto sobbed. But this time it wasn't in fear or desperation.

"Of course I know you'd never do that. You're a good boy."

It chaffed to nod, but Ianto did; emphatically.

"'M a g'boy."

"Yes, you are. I know that. And Tosh knows that."

Tosh knew too? Another wave of relief rushed through Ianto's trembling form.

"She's going to take a look at Gwen's computer. But no one's blaming you."

Ianto rolled his eyes around as far as they could go to catch a glimpse of his master's face.



Jack spoke with conviction, and Ianto's body went slack, sliding the last bit down onto the floor.

"Now come up here. Come on. There you go, up. Nice 'n easy."

Letting the older man guide him, Ianto crawled into his waiting arms and lap. Cradling into that tight pressure like a child, or a kitten.

They sat there for a while, Jack whispering nonsense to him in a soothing voice. And it worked. The boy felt soothed. He felt safe, and cared for. Both notions were ridiculous, of course, but in the moment it was nice to pretend. The make belief feelings of comfort helping him crawl back up through the fetid swamp of terror.

He was innocent, and the others knew. No one was angry with him. He hadn't failed.

And Jack had cared enough to ease him out of his panic, instead of leaving him alone to find out he wasn't in trouble on his own time.

Bold in his fragile state, he curled his fingers into the crisp blue shirt, and cuddled closer. Had he been any more aware of his own actions – and less lost in his own mind – he'd never have dared take more when Jack had freely given so much already. But he wasn't more aware, and Jack let him take.

Waited till his boy was rested a bit before scooting them over to the manhole, and helping him down to the neatly made bed. The boy wasn't alone when he was lulled into sleep. Fingers petting him in soothing stripes as he sank deep into oblivion.

So kind. Such a generous master.

chapter 111.

fic: My Punishment (chapter 104)

Title: My Punishment chapter 104
Author Name: troubleseekers
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Summary: Ianto almost releases a Cyberwoman into the world and endangers the team; there will be consequences.
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: sadly, I do not own any of the characters. As such I don't make any money off of the stories that worm their way through my brain and out onto a keyboard.
Word Count: 5629

Damn the internet and its fickle ways! I've not been able to post this chapter for sooo long. It sat around on my onedrive without a computer connected to the internet for over a week! But have no fear. I've returned, with a chapter I rewrote three times (and that's supposed to be a charm of some sort). Enjoy! ... I hope.

Also, I'm sacrificing a couple of goats to the old gods to ensure a more consistent internet connection.


The surprise Ianto showed at the food shouldn’t have bothered him, but it still stung. Jack did his best to hide his disappointment behind easy questions; watching Ianto nod as he ate was better than staring at his boy in silence while he wondered how he'd ever fix this.

Baby steps. He had to remind himself. Baby steps. It's not like you're on a time limit.

Unlike this morning, he didn't let Ianto lick at an obviously empty dish. Taking the thing away from him decisively, ignoring the puppy eyes that followed him as he did. He knew why Ianto was behaving as he was – he'd made sure Ianto was never sure when his next meal would come – but he had to get him to break the habit.

The regular meals would help with that, but Ianto would need to regain some self control when it came to his plate. Forcing him to relinquish it would hopefully help him realise there was nothing to be gained from frantically licking an empty dish.

He'd be fed again tonight, and the routine of breakfast, lunch, and dinner would eventually manifest itself in a well mannered human instead of a starved slave. Jack swallowed thickly as he set down the bowl on the table. He'd forced his strong young Ianto to regress into nothing more than a terrified animal; cowering at his feet.

The renewed revelation reinforced by the fact that Ianto was curled in on himself where he'd left him. A wholly different creature than the neat and tidy man he remembered sitting at this very table tucking a napkin into his shirt to protect it. How long before he could tell Ianto to sit on a chair and use a knife and fork without fearing some form of retribution? How long till Ianto stopped looking at food like it was a miracle?

How long till he walked away from this all? How long till he left it all behind him with sure steps? How long till Ianto left him behind?

The relief that came with the knowledge that it wouldn't be soon, tasted bittersweet. He couldn't make Ianto sit in a chair and use a knife and fork right now or even next week. Or he could, but it wouldn't help. It would frighten and traumatise the boy, and then they'd be further back than when they started.

He'd have Ianto at his side for a bit yet.

Baby steps.

"Had enough?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Can I serve you, sir?"

The words came out in a long string, Ianto looking up at him with wide, blown eyes. The captain had hoped he'd be able to bond the younger man to him in another way than fear, but the worship directed at him was of another level.

It reminded him of a cult follower; brainwashed and drugged beyond his mind. And he had no intention of becoming the next Jim Jones; with or without cyanide.

The captain shook himself. It would fade with continued good care! It was just the sudden rush of flavours and food after nothing but slop and oatmeal. But he'd need to keep an eye on it, lest Ianto stay too dependant.

Baby steps. Just baby steps.

"You're welcome." That wasn't too strange to say, was it? Not too far out of character to make Ianto uneasy. "I'd rather you get back to work. Everything still going well?"

The boy bobbed his head, thanking him for the opportunity to work once more. And Jack wondered what those eyes would look like if he let Ianto unbuckle him and do what he wanted. Would the worship make way for lust, or would the two high emotions blend in those blown pupils?

"You can get back to work now, Ianto."

Ignoring the urge, he brushed past the kneeling man and was out of the door before he could hear any response the other man gave. Across the walkway and down into the belly of his home. Work would take his mind off of thoughts he had no business thinking.

"Soooo_ Which ones do you want out of here first?"

Owen looked at him funny when he capped his hands, but the doctor let his eyes drift back to the file in his hands almost instantly.

"Suddenly so energetic?"

Jack grinned, pacing in front of the cells filled with sleeping gangsters.

"I don't mind having some extra company down here for Janet once in a while, but a crowd like this? I'm ready to get rid of em. Any idea how much it's cost us already to keep this lot fed?"

Janet growled when he passed in front of her cell, and he couldn't help the cheerful wave that would set the creature off even more. Behind him, he could hear the file hit a table.

"Not sure, but I'm sure you saved a lot of money starving the tea boy. I suspect we have funds to spare."

Jack turned his back on the weevil, raising his hands in surrender. A sign of submission not unnoticed by the alien, who promptly attacked the glass separating her from her captor. Jack didn't flinch.

"Easy, Owen. I'm feeding him now, aren't I? I made a mistake. Let's move on, ok?"

Owen grunted, and grumpily mashed the number pad to the cell nearest to him.

"These should do as well as any of the lot."

Instead of responding, and reigniting the doctor's ire, Jack just marched into the cell after the smaller man, and grabbed the feet of the sleeping prisoner Owen indicated. Together, they picked him up, and dropped him on a transporter pallet covered with a mat recovered from a stash of old sports equipment. It would allow them to trek the men up four at a time instead of one by one using the gurney reserved for this task. It would speed up the process significantly.

Over the next few hours, They did just that. Carting bodies – alive not dead, for once – back into the SUV, picking up the papers provided by the girls, and dropping the guys off back home.

One or two of the men were left in compromising positions. All it would take, was an anonymous tip to Cardiff's finest, and they'd be locked away for other crimes before they did anything stupid; again. They didn't even need to dip into Torchwood's own stash of confiscated drug paraphernalia, there were plenty of illegal substances to redistribute among the gangs' members.

The men not dangerous enough to be sent straight back into another form of confinement would wake to their own beds and a kicking hangover that would stop them from debating any other reasons for the memory loss. Who knows, the fear of waking up without the last month or two in their mind might have even led a couple of them to sober up completely.

Sufficiently frustrated by the entire scenario, Owen and Jack took their mutual disgruntlement out on the men by propping them up in ridiculous poses, and setting the stage for some serious soul searching. The last man to find his bed, would wake to a mountain of empty bottles, artfully arranged into the shape of a cock, complete with shaving cream jizz spraying across his bedroom floor. Icing on the cake, was the upended vodka bottle slowly draining its contents into the man's lap, and subsequently, his mattress.

By the time they got back to the hub, their crabby mood had dissipated completely.

"What are you two laughing like school children for? Spill it."

Gwen hounded them, demanding satisfaction, till Owen grabbed a couple of beers from the kitchen and regaled the girls with their escapades. Before long, all of them were drinking and laughing. The absurdity and stress melting under laughter.

No one missed Ianto. No one noticed him either.

Jack only just saw him leaving a platter of crisps next to Owen's hip by accident; looking over as he set his barely touched bottle down on the floor. If he hadn't, he'd have grabbed for the food on instinct without ever questioning its origins.

Ianto had always been good at reading their moods and needs while staying out of the way; a skill that had evolved into pure ninja techniques it would seem.

The younger man knew he'd been caught, looking right at Jack for a couple of seconds before hurriedly making to move away again. The captain hesitated for a moment while Ianto turned back towards the table he'd been diligently working at; the heaps of papers greatly diminished. Jack took in the neat stacks of files and boxes of artefacts, and decided Ianto had done enough for the day. Reaching out, he snagged the boy's hood just before he walked out of reach.

The single tug was enough to bring Ianto to his side with questioning eyes. Jack deduced he was being quiet to not disturb the lively conversation still going on right next to them. Not wanting to draw too much attention to the change in group dynamic, the captain merely nodded to the group.

Ianto took it in his stride, sinking to his knees at Jack's feet at once, leaning slightly against Jack's chair and facing the impromptu circle. Deep blue eyes tilted up, searching for approval; feedback. Jack nodded, smiling at the relief translated into ever so slightly sagging shoulders. Ianto was relaxing, if just a bit. Jack carded his fingers through thick curls and reached for a handful of crisps.

The introduction of Ianto went smoothly, even if he was still on his knees. At least he wasn't serving them, as much an observer of Owen's growing stories as the rest of them. Keeping his gaze on Owen's gestures, the captain made to reach down for his beer.

He didn't often drink, but the taste of the darker ale was something he enjoyed once in a while. Still, he wouldn't finish the bottle, preferring small sips for their taste, rather than long pulls that would leave him tipsy. He didn't have a great track record with alcohol, tending to abuse the drink once he got hold of it. Better to stay away till the situation called for nothing but an alcohol fuelled oblivion.

He never managed to reach all the way down, though. The cold bottle pressed into his reaching palm before he'd moved more than a foot. Ianto had his head down, but he'd obviously been paying attention to what was happening enough to pre-emptively pick up the beer.


He didn't say it loudly, just lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a sip. It was the correct thing to do. Ianto shifted and once more relaxed; leaning more into the chair's legs instead of sitting straight up in position, arms down on his knees as he smiled a tiny smile.

Gwen noticed too, throwing Jack a questioning look. Choosing not to answer it, he nudged Ianto with his knee and handed the bottle back. It was placed promptly back into the same spot Jack had put it before. The ring of condensation still beading on the floor. Another nudge, got his boy to look up at him, and he held out a crisp, watching adoringly as Ianto opened his mouth and accepted the treat with little to no hesitation. He lowered his head with a muted whimper of pleasure to chew languidly.

Baby steps. Baby steps.

It was an easy middle ground. Ianto not slaving away somewhere in the background, but not yet an equal. No tension, except the confused looks from his co-workers. Though Tosh and Owen looked pleased to have the fifth man with them.

They talked for over an hour. Tosh getting up to refill the crisps and hand out new beers when they ran out. Jack shaking his head when Ianto looked at him with confused eyes. The fear had returned, but it dissipated slowly as the rest of the group settled back into their conversations.

Eventually, Tosh, Owen and Gwen filed out of the hub. It left Jack lounging on the couch everyone had migrated to as the low level of alcohol demanded comfier spaces to sit than desks, with Ianto still kneeling as close to him as the other man felt he was allowed.

"You ok, Ianto?"

The younger man looked up obediently.

"I'm good, sir. May I serve you?"

Jack sighed, regretting the sound instantly when he saw Ianto cringe away. Ianto still saw himself as a tool, and there was only one reason he saw himself like that. Training. Vicious, and cruel training.

Ianto was very aware of what would happen to him once he had no one to serve. It didn't matter that it was no longer a truth, Ianto believed it. There was no way he couldn't.

"Come here, boy."

He let his tone soften, smiling when Ianto scooted closer and rested his head on his thigh. Still very much like a dog, but then he'd only been a boy for a day.

"I just wanted to know how your day was, Ianto. You did more than I expected." Except that was the wrong way to put it. Made it seem like he'd not expected Ianto to be capable of the work. The captain tried again. "Or at least, you got way further than I thought you would get. How did you handle it? So much work in such a little timespan."

Those impossibly open blue eyes showed nothing but awe. Jack watched as his boy licked his plush lips and searched for his words.

"I did what you asked of me, sir. I'm so grateful for the opportunity. Working like this. Serving you. I'm so happy to be allowed to do this. And I can do at least as much as I did before ... before ..."

Ianto faltered, his face pulling into a grimace as he remembered his 'crimes'. Before Jack could intervene, the boy found his voice again.

"I wasn't functioning at optimum level then, too busy trying to keep myself hidden. Now I know my place." The boy looked up again, conviction in his voice and expression. "I know where I belong, and what my purpose is thanks to you. Serving you and Torchwood. It's what I am now. And I'm happy to do it. Happy to do anything. For you."

The last seemed an afterthought, tagged on hastily yet heartfelt. Jack reached out reflexively and scratched his nails down Ianto's skull. Torchwood and its director intertwined in Ianto's mind. No doubt due to the fact that Jack had been the one to break him, and train him.

Ianto rose up on his knees a bit, eyes fluttering shut as he followed the hand dragging up and down his hairline. He'd be the one to piece him back together again as well. Jack swore it.

"I know you didn't have to risk letting me near paperwork like this. But you did and I just wanted to be worthy of such trust. I did my best, sir. It felt good to serve you."

Ianto looked drugged, breath hitching as he was petted.

"I can only hope you approve of what I did."

And here, Jack found his in. Picking the conversation back up.

"I approve very much, Ianto. You've been a very good boy."

Ianto moaned, and when his hips pushed forward just a tad, Jack got a good look at just how much those words affected the younger man.

"And you were paying attention too, weren't you? Got us food before we even asked for it."

He could see Ianto take and hold a breath, frozen in time under Jack's moving hand.

"You did good, Ianto."

And out. A whoosh of hot air and relief as his boy came back to life.

"You were working on your assignments, but saw what we needed." Jack let his hand trail down to Ianto's neck, drawing the younger man back in. He stroked a thumb over the massive purple bruise he'd sucked there last night. "I knew you'd be good for me. Knew I could trust you."

Ianto was breathing harder, like the words of praise alone were doing it for him. Hard and aroused, ready to come as if Jack had been sucking him. And if that didn't spark a number of beautiful ideas. But first he had to get some food into Ianto.

"Hungry boy?"

Another second of hesitation, Ianto freezing as if he was deciding to trust or fear the question. In the end, the nod didn't seem as defeated or terrified as it had days ago, but there was no eagerness there yet either. The boy was hedging, answering without taking a sure stance. It was progress, and Jack wasn't about to let the opportunity go to waste.

"Good." He mirrored Ianto's nod. "Cause I'm starving, and you've done more than enough work for today so that means take out."

Ianto seemed horrified to be told he'd overworked himself, but the boy was too polite to contradict his master. Jack went on undeterred.

"There was a coupon in the mail for a new place. For ribs or something." Jack pushed up from the couch, still ignoring Ianto's confusion. "You go set up some drinks n'stuff. I want to watch a movie, so we'll eat here. Ok?"

"Yes. Yes, sir."

Jack walked off, leaving Ianto to his own devices as he hunted for the coupon. Finger food would be a great way to feed Ianto without making it too formal or dumping stuff in the dog's bowl. He could drag out the meal as long as he wanted and feed his boy up for hours.


The food smelled delicious, and Jack didn't waste any time unwrapping and unboxing the vast amount of dishes. Even though he didn't actually originate from the US, people assumed it because of his accent, and over time he'd grown to appreciate the country even if it was only for their indulgent cuisine.

Five different kinds of ribs, from plain to honey glazed. Baby potatoes wrapped in bacon. Four types of wings. A bowl full of shredded pork that looked like it couldn't possibly be any more juicy. A platter of spicy looking shrimp. Corn on the cob seared shut on a grill. Some form of mixed vegetable salad, and a side of celery and carrot sticks, because he had to keep Ianto healthy while he got him to fill up. And of course, a nice big portion of curly fries.

He'd gone all out, ordering a bit of just about anything that seemed decadent.


Too focussed on the food, Jack hadn't noticed the lack of kneeling men in the vicinity of the assorted drinks. There was the choice between coke, fanta, water, and beer, but no Ianto.

"Yes, sir."

Only slightly out of breath, Ianto jogged into the frame. Jack raised an eyebrow, and got his unasked question answered at once.

"I had some time left after I got your drinks ready, so I cleaned up a bit. And then finished another file or two."

Nodding, Jack started up his laptop. He didn't know what they were going to watch yet, but comedy seemed a good way to end the day.

"I apologise if I overstepped my boundaries, sir. I just thought that my time would be better spent serving you instead of waiting. Not that I mind waiting of course. I'm happy to kneel where you want me."

"Come here, Ianto."

The captain hushed his boy's rambling.

"You want to keep working when you've got down time, you can. You don't have to, but you can."

Ianto crawled closer, glancing at the food before settling next to Jack's legs.

"I'm happy to serve you, sir. Happy to work."

Using his foot, Jack dragged the table closer.

"Here, get up. You can take them off."

Ever obedient, Ianto had clambered onto the couch instantly, but he'd curled himself in such a way that his feet dangled over the edge uncomfortably while still pressing himself into Jack's side. Now that he had permission, the boy quickly stripped shoes and socks, and arranged himself more naturally. Jack smiled down at him, stroking through dark curls, then down the boy's curved back.


Seemingly emboldened, Ianto nodded and crowded a bit closer, letting his head fit into Jack's lap.

"Thank you, sir."

Leaving his boy to snuggle up to his side, Jack clicked away on his laptop. Eventually coming up with Ace Ventura. He'd seen the first one at some point, and had never gotten around to the follow up film. Humour would be easy to watch, and he doubted anything in the film could harm what he was trying to do with Ianto.

The very second he hit play, Ianto peeked up from where he'd snuggled into the captain's lap. Jack looked down at the suddenly interested man doing his best to return to where he'd been lounging.

"Seen it before?"

"Yes, sir."

Jack curled his fingers into Ianto's hair and gently tugged him up again.

"Did you like it?"

The boy nodded, fear and hope warring on his face. Jack knew it probably wasn't a hope to be allowed to eat and watch the film. Ianto was probably praying to be left unpunished - or not too harshly punished, Jack remembered how bad Ianto had felt about a bad deed being left alone - for moving and enjoying without permission. The slave, or the object would have been sent away to suffer in his cell, or at least put in a difficult position to remind him he was nothing. But the pet had been permitted some leeway when it came to moving . And Jack hoped Ianto would catch on to the fact that a boy had a couple of extra freedoms when it came to staying put.

He went for an affectionate laugh, letting Ianto see and hear his smile. Ianto had the right to know that his enthusiasm was appreciated.

"You can watch if you want to."

The captain quickly lowered the hand still holding Ianto's head up, when they boy's jaw went completely lax and the rest of his body gave up alongside it; putting plenty more strain on cute curls. So being allowed to watch was unexpected. God what had he done to the kid?

"Do you want to? It's ok if you don't want to watch it again if you've seen it before."

Mute, Ianto nodded in the older man's lap. That brought up other visuals again, so Jack just cleared his throat and moved to the food. Patting Ianto's head absently.

"They specialise in American food. I ordered a bit of everything. Bit of a test run in case we want to order from again. Wouldn't want to subject the rest to subpar food, would we?"

Eyes swivelling between the screen, the food and Jack's face, Ianto realised he'd been asked a question.

"No, sir?"

Jack just laughed and grabbed a boneless wing. They cost a bit extra, but this way he could feed them to Ianto without having to have the boy nibble around small bones. He moaned around the decadent mouthful.

"God these are good. Here."

Without waiting for an answer, Jack offered a second wing to the boy nestled in his lap. Not quite as surprised by the sudden offer of food, or perhaps becoming accustomed to being fed, Ianto opened his mouth at once and daintily bit off a small piece.

The wing was delicious, Jack knew it was. He was still licking extra sauce from his lips and teeth, but seeing Ianto's eyes roll back and then close in unadulterated pleasure far exceeded what he'd gotten from the food. The boy chewed slowly, swallowed and licked his lips before his lids fluttered open again.

"Good huh?"

Ianto nodded, groaning as he licked his lips again. Jack could see the beginning of a 'thank you' and cut it off.

"Here, take it."

Still muddled with the newest experience, Ianto wriggled around, and reached for the morsel held out to him. Content, Jack reached for the second flavour, smelling the potent garlic sauce before stuffing the entire wing in his mouth. Groaning, he looked down to see a dazed Ianto staring intently at the half eaten wing in his hands. Jack frowned, picking at a piece of skin stuck between his teeth. Still, Ianto didn't move.

"You can eat it, Ianto."

The captain wanted to see a sheepish smile, or perhaps even just a shy expression. The manic worship that was warring with the disbelief in Ianto's eyes made him uncomfortable; he didn't deserve such worship. Jack didn't stick around to watch as Ianto went for another bite, looking instead at Jim Carrey surrounded by animals as he meditated.

But Ianto called his attention back down again. The boy was making muted sounds of pleasure, squirming ever so slightly. Jack felt this heart clench at the sight. Ianto was licking at the meat in between his fingers rather than biting at it. Jack pulled in a breath.

Ianto didn't think he'd get anything else, did he? No, of course he didn't. He'd made sure of it. Ianto had learned to beg for scraps and be thankful for the barest taste possible. It was a miracle Ianto hadn't flinched while he took the food. It was too much to expect Ianto to eat real food – not leftovers mixed in a bowl – and think he'd get more.

But how did he address this without panicking his boy? Jack reached for another garlic wing, and ate it slowly as he thought. He could always just order the younger man to eat normally, but would it be productive?

He couldn't know. He couldn't be sure.

He couldn't risk it. Wouldn't risk Ianto dreading real food; bolting it as quickly as he could in fear of displeasing people.

Another glance told him Ianto was still licking, though he'd nibbled off a tiny piece of the skin at one point. Jack went down his list of options, sighed, and blindly picked one.

"Gods these are good. Here, try_"

Acting like he hadn't noticed the snail's pace his boy was setting, Jack reached down to offer the second half of the wing he'd just picked up. Halting and frowning in mock confusion when he saw Ianto with his barely touched wing – apart from it missing most of the sauce. He'd been planning on forcing out a laugh, but the utterly befuddled expression on the boy's face pulled the chuckle out of him so naturally he didn't have to.

"Taking your time with that one?"

Mute, eyes and sauce stained lips wide, Ianto nodded.

"I know they're good, but if you take too long with just that one you'll miss out on tasting the rest. And believe me, these are too good to miss out on. Here."

Knowing what the other man's reaction would be, Jack slipped two fingers – covered in the sticky garlic sauce – into Ianto's mouth. Right on que, the boy closed his lips and sucked. The blissful expression reminiscent of someone getting his very first high. Except Ianto's reactions were too attuned to Jack's preferences for the flavour to keep him from diligently cleaning the digits in his mouth as he sucked them deep. Jack let him suckle for a full minute, Jim Carrey pulling a slinky out in his peripheral.

Ianto whimpered when he tugged his fingers out again, eyes closed and breathing hard, the boy let his mouth hang slightly open.

"You want a piece of this one too?"

A shaky nod. Ianto kept his eyes closed, body trembling minutely where it rested across Jack.

"Oh but you're gonna have to finish your other piece first. Not going to let food go to waste, are we?"


Still not back to completely calm, the boy raised his hands – he'd kept a tight hold on the food – and polished off the wing in only four bites. After each one, he paused right after the swallow, flinching under his skin while he brought the food back up to bite. Jack watched, unwilling to hurry Ianto along even more than this.

"Such a good boy, eating what I gave you. You like it?"

Ianto flushed a deeper red. The colour already creeping under the collar of his hoody.

"Yes, sir. Thankyousir."

Jack gave another chuckle, loving the way his laughter seemed to open Ianto's face up like a flower. He held the second piece of chicken out for Ianto, dangling it close to his open mouth.

"Is my boy ready for his second piece?"

Ianto's eyes flew open, staring right past the food and into Jack's. He nodded.

"Gonna be a good big boy'n eat it all?"

Another nod, wider eyes that help hope and something along the lines of eagerness; the earlier mania lost.

"Yeah you are."

Jack tossed the chicken down, and Ianto caught it expertly. The boy knew not to drop things, most of all food. The wing was in his mouth quickly, and Jack chuckled at the image of a squirrel guarding an exceptionally good nut as he gnawed at it. He reached past the next two piles of wings for a glazed rib.

The meat was so well cooked, it fell off the bone with hardly any coaxing, melting on his tongue as he moaned. They were so going to order from the place again, though he didn't know if he wanted to share with Owen or Gwen. They both knew how to appreciate good food, and there would be such a fight for the final scraps it might not be worth it.

In his lap, Ianto was sucking the sauce from his own fingers with such gusto, that Jack had to shift in his seat. Those moans were usually reserved for when he was doing something very different than feeding his boy, and his cock had grown accustomed to being very much a participant when they were around.

Ignoring the sudden onset of the base emotion, the captain focussed on his other primal urge, and set his teeth into a second rib. There was something utterly satisfying about gnawing meat off of bone, something that soothed the primitive creature that still growled within every human.

They settled into a rhythm. Watching the increasing antics of Ace while eating and feeding. Ianto readily accepted whatever tidbit Jack gave him, and was content to suck on a bare bone for minutes – probably hours if Jack didn't take them away – and the captain recognised the behaviour. In truth, Ianto was like a dog. Freshly rescued from an abusive home, and unsure of his footing. Eager to feed, but unwilling to overstep boundaries by reaching for the food. Utterly terrified of, yet worshipping the hand that fed him.

All the food had the same reaction on the boy. Be it meat or veg, Ianto ate it with rapturous diligence. If Jack had held out an empty plate for him, Ianto would have licked it clean just as perfectly as he did the captain's fingers. He didn't though, careful to keep Ianto on this side of human behaviour, even if he was being fed by hand.

The longer the meal went on, the more relaxed Ianto became. And it satisfied Jack to no end when Ianto fearlessly adjusted himself, so he could either eat or watch the screen more comfortably. At the end of the movie – bat safe and sound – their dynamic had shifted from master and slave to one of a couple. Pampered housemate rather than a pet being indulged for once. Ianto laughed softly at jokes and whined when he felt Jack was ignoring him too long.

As it was, Jack had a hand on Ianto at all times. Either petting the younger man, teasing him, feeding him, or playing with him in some other way. Stealing kisses from a flirtatious boy who returned them passionately rather than passively allowing whatever his master wanted.

Ianto was even the one who made the first step towards more adult activities once the credits started rolling. Wriggling onto his stomach, he nosed at Jack's cock – erect of course, he still hadn't lost his attraction to Ianto – while a hand palmed greedily at the captain's spread thighs.

Warm, sated, and full, Jack let his head fall back with a groan. He'd been doing his very best to ignore his rising sexual needs. Having Ianto just turn straight to it and rub against him like that encouraged his resolve to crumble.

Ianto was taking the lead, wasn't that a good thing?

And his lead seemed to extend further than just nuzzling, fingers clawing up suddenly too tight trouser legs to tear at his belt, stripping it efficiently from its loops. Jack groaned and forced himself to hold still, he had to see how far Ianto's resolve went. How far Ianto would take this without direction.

The belt clattered to the floor noisily, and nimble fingers moved to his buttons, his zip, pulling at his waistband with hungry moans. Jack obliged his boy, lifting his hips to let Ianto drag away the stifling layers of cloth.

And there, Ianto paused. As if stricken dumb by the sight of Jack's erection poking its head out from underneath his shirt, the soft blue only making the deep red head stand out more vividly. The captain panted for air, and dropped his eyes – head still too heavy to talk his neck back into working – and saw Ianto looking up at him. The question in his eyes was more than clear. Please. But Jack kept silent, and let his eyes drift shut again.

No directions. No orders. What would he do?

chapter 105