crabby_lioness (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crabby_lioness) wrote2008-01-27 01:52 am
crabby_lioness) wrote2008-01-27 01:52 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Frustration
Title: Frustration
Author: CrabbyLioness
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Summary: The Courtship of Ianto Jones
Spoilers through Sleeper
Disclaimer: Property of the BBC & their people. I'm not making a penny.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 457
Part 2: Maybe
Author: CrabbyLioness
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Summary: The Courtship of Ianto Jones
Spoilers through Sleeper
Disclaimer: Property of the BBC & their people. I'm not making a penny.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 457
He's driving me crazy.
Okay, I admit it, I deserve everything he's doing to me and worse. After the way I treated him I'm lucky he's taking me back at all. I have no right to complain about how slow he's going or about him making me wait.
Wait while he marks me as his with public words instead of unseen bites and scratches.
Wait while he establishes his rights.
His right to set the boundaries. His right to tell me what to do when it isn't a command decision. His right to take me down a peg when he thinks I need it. His right to yell at me when I get myself killed again.
His right to tell Gwen I'm an insensitive boob in bed?
Okay, I totally didn't see that one coming. I'm not sure I like it. I mean, I'm used to lovers who blab everything, but I don't know if I want us to be that way. We're forging something different here. That's going to be on the list of my boundaries.
When I earn back the right to set boundaries.
If it was up to me we'd skip straight to his right to nail me through the mattress, but he's setting the pace. We haven't even kissed yet. It's maddening.
Not that there haven't been touches. Lingering brushes from his fingers when he gives he things, full-body rubs when he passes me too closely in the hallway, hands ghosting over my ass when no one is around. All the things I used to do to him. I lean in to them but he glares me back into my place. I want to tear that bright red shirt off him and throw him over my desk, but that would be an "insensitive boob" thing to do.
I try fluttering my lashes at him and suggest that we could have a lot of fun exploring his sadistic tendencies in bed. He smirks, and I can tell he's having a lot of fun now.
I want him so badly. And that new confidence and sense of humor he's found? I can come just from thinking about what that's going to be like in the bedroom!
Thank God he hasn't told me I can't wank off. Not that it does any good. Neither would going out to a club and picking up a one-night stand. Besides being an "insensitive boob" thing to do, I'm tired of one-night stands. I want someone who cares enough to yell at me when I get myself killed again.
Besides, when I look deep into his eyes, past the public mask, I can see the frustration that matches mine. He's not going to make me wait much longer.
Is he?
Okay, I admit it, I deserve everything he's doing to me and worse. After the way I treated him I'm lucky he's taking me back at all. I have no right to complain about how slow he's going or about him making me wait.
Wait while he marks me as his with public words instead of unseen bites and scratches.
Wait while he establishes his rights.
His right to set the boundaries. His right to tell me what to do when it isn't a command decision. His right to take me down a peg when he thinks I need it. His right to yell at me when I get myself killed again.
His right to tell Gwen I'm an insensitive boob in bed?
Okay, I totally didn't see that one coming. I'm not sure I like it. I mean, I'm used to lovers who blab everything, but I don't know if I want us to be that way. We're forging something different here. That's going to be on the list of my boundaries.
When I earn back the right to set boundaries.
If it was up to me we'd skip straight to his right to nail me through the mattress, but he's setting the pace. We haven't even kissed yet. It's maddening.
Not that there haven't been touches. Lingering brushes from his fingers when he gives he things, full-body rubs when he passes me too closely in the hallway, hands ghosting over my ass when no one is around. All the things I used to do to him. I lean in to them but he glares me back into my place. I want to tear that bright red shirt off him and throw him over my desk, but that would be an "insensitive boob" thing to do.
I try fluttering my lashes at him and suggest that we could have a lot of fun exploring his sadistic tendencies in bed. He smirks, and I can tell he's having a lot of fun now.
I want him so badly. And that new confidence and sense of humor he's found? I can come just from thinking about what that's going to be like in the bedroom!
Thank God he hasn't told me I can't wank off. Not that it does any good. Neither would going out to a club and picking up a one-night stand. Besides being an "insensitive boob" thing to do, I'm tired of one-night stands. I want someone who cares enough to yell at me when I get myself killed again.
Besides, when I look deep into his eyes, past the public mask, I can see the frustration that matches mine. He's not going to make me wait much longer.
Is he?
Part 2: Maybe
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