Our Man From the Council

***

Our Man From the Council
By Ceefax

***

Despite standing perfectly still and expressionless, Ianto still managed to adequately convey his scepticism.

Jack glanced over at him, lips tightening, and pressed the doorbell again.

"Maybe he's not in," Ianto suggested.

Jack ignored him and leant on the button.

The door was finally wrenched open by an annoyed-looking young man with sopping wet hair, clutching an untied dressing gown around himself. "I should've bloody known," he muttered, turned, and stomped back into the flat.

Taking the open door as an unvoiced invitation, Jack started after him; seizing the sleeve of Ianto, who had been melting into the shadows, presumably in preparation for vanishing like a phantom into the night, and dragging him inside.

The flat's occupant disappeared, and the faint hiss of a resumed shower reached their ears. Jack dropped onto the sofa and sprawled comfortably, the skirt of his coat spread out beneath him. Standing ruler-straight with his hands clasped behind his back, Ianto perused the spines of the books lining the little living room.

The shower shut off and was replaced by the sound of a hairdryer. Ianto ran out of books and began again.

Jack rolled to his feet in one smooth movement as the disgruntled young man reappeared, his dressing gown now belted tightly, and his blond hair merely damp. "Idris..." Jack began, but was interrupted.

"You're here, so I suppose you want something." His eyes were fixed on Jack, his arms folded defensively over his chest.

Jack grinned a little sheepishly. "Well, yeah, but..."

"Wish I'd stayed in Germany," he said, half to himself, and flopped into the armchair.

"Why didn't you?" Ianto asked, perfectly innocently, lifting his chin as Idris's eyes turned to him.

"Fate," he replied, heavily. "I was put on this earth to run around after an ungrateful git in a stupid coat who repeatedly fails to wipe my memory."

"I'm very grateful," Jack protested. "I'm always grateful."

Idris gave him an incredulous look. "Just tell me what you want, Jack."

Waving a dismissive hand, Jack said "there's a thing we need to bury under that new multi-storey out in Cathays. It's no big deal. So, how've ya been?"

"Fine, thank you," he replied suspiciously, keeping his eyes on Jack who was strolling casually around the confines of the room. "Alien sort of thing, is it?"

Jack and Ianto exchanged a glance. "Bits of it are sort of alien, yeah," Jack conceded. "It's perfectly harmless, though." He leaned his forearms on the back on Idris's chair.

"So harmless you want to bury it under ten storeys of concrete?"

Jack slipped his hands under the loose collar of Idris's robe and rubbed soothingly at his shoulders. "Let's put it this way - it's perfectly harmless unless it's not buried under ten storeys of concrete."

Idris sighed. "Fine." Jack's hands moved out to the points of his shoulders, pushing thick, fluffy fabric aside. Ianto's eyes flicked over, then away again. "I'll text you when the foundations're being put in. How long d'you think you'll need on the site?"

"Few hours." Leaning further over the chair he ran a hand down the open v of Idris' robe to rest below his collarbone. "Overnight'd be good, if you could manage it."

"I'll see what I can do." He turned his head a little to press his cheek against the rough scratchy wool of Jack's sleeve.

"Anything for me, right?" Jack asked with a sideways grin.

"Anything to get rid of you," Idris scoffed, even as he covered the hand on his chest with his own.

***

There was, Jack thought, hands tucked comfortably behind his head as he surveyed the scene before him, really nothing quite like it.

Two sets of bright, longing eyes gazed up at him. Two eager pink tongues lapped at his cock. Some of the earlier hesitation had gone, and they were becoming more concerned with bringing him pleasure than keeping out of each other's way.

Smiling magnanimously, he reached both hands down and stroked his fingers through their hair, one hand to Ianto's dark head, the hair just long enough to start to curl, the other to Idris's fine silky blond locks.

At the attention, they both redoubled their efforts, seeking to outperform the other, until Ianto, like a puppy at his mother's teat, pushed Idris aside to effortlessly slide his lips down to the root of Jack's cock and back up again.

Idris, taking this development prosaically, crawled up Jack's body to kiss him. Jack hooked an arm around his waist and cupped a hand against his cheek to slow his enthusiastic motions. As Ianto's tongue twisted delightfully around the head of his cock, his curled hand pumping the shaft below, Jack's and Idris's tongues caressed lazily, like sleepy eels sliding together on the sea floor.

Jack slid down a little to arrange himself more comfortably. Ianto stayed where he was, draped over one thigh. Idris squirmed down with him, and Jack ran his palm lightly down from the small of his back, feeling the gentle corrugation of his spine give way to the soft curves of his buttocks. He treated himself to a squeeze, the rounded flesh fitting perfectly into his palm, brought both hands around to cradle a sharp hipbone in each, then moved them up over his ribs and around to cup his shoulder blades.

Idris's body was lean and wiry. Jack opened his eyes and peered over Idris's shoulder to see Ianto, eyes closed in devotion, worshipping at his cock. Though once as thin as Idris, he had gained weight and muscle since his deadly secret had become a thing of the past, and now looked more like the strong, healthy young man he was. Jack liked the new Ianto a lot more than the quiet, pretty robot who'd provided coffee, blow jobs, and beautifully accented 'yes sir's with never an objection. All that had been nice, but the new Ianto was a whole actual person.

Perhaps sensing he no longer had Jack's complete attention, Idris nipped gently at his lower lip. Jack growled theatrically and shoved him off. He got up onto his hands and knees - Ianto made a small sound of protest, and followed his cock until it was pulled out of reach - pushed them both down to lie shoulder to shoulder, then let his body fall gently forward to cover them both. Grinning happily, he kissed each of them in turn.

"Jack," Ianto protested, "you're 'eavy." And I'm not too happy about snuggling up with the opposition, his tone clearly said.

Jack sat up, kneeling between them, but stilled Ianto with a hand to his chest when he started to move.

He mirrored the position with his other hand and sat for a few seconds, feeling the twin heartbeats pulsing against his palms, then stroked down over both their stomachs, back up over chests and necks to caress their cheeks (Idris turned his head slightly to lap at the pad of his thumb) enjoying the contrasts and similarities of the two bodies spread out below him.

Ianto's blue-grey eyes and Idris's deep green-hazel. Thick straight blond hair on the pillow beside dark brown (almost) curls. But their skin was the same creamy pink, a few shades lighter than Jack's own.

The two men had much more in common with one another than either would like to admit. Open-minded as he was, Jack wasn't ashamed to admit he did have types, and Ianto and Idris both fell into one of his absolute favourites. Tall and handsome, competent and controlled exterior concealing imagination and passion, hidden to the rest of the world behind neat, conservative tailoring. A loyal, caring, compassionate nature that manifested itself in the need to take care of everyone - family, friends, colleagues, passing strangers...

He simply had to lean forward and kiss them both again, two sets of full lips parting eagerly beneath his own. "Yep," he said, smugly, sitting back on his heels, "this was a pretty good idea."

Both men rolled their eyes, and Jack laughed. He ran his fingertips lightly over their chests, brushing the tips of pink nipples.

Ianto had thick dark fur covering his chest and belly. Idris had much less, and being lighter in colour, it wasn't as visible, but the individual strands were harsher and coarser, making the light dusting across his pectorals very obvious as Jack's fingers passed over.

He took an engorged cock in either hand and squeezed gently. Both blue and green eyes slid shut, and two gasping moans of pleasure met his ears. "Oh yeah. Definitely one of my better ideas." He could feel the wide grin spreading across his face.

Evidently losing patience, Idris sat up, and Jack let himself be wrestled down onto his back. The pair of them converged on him, but with their earlier positions reversed; Idris scooting down to suck the head of his cock between those pretty plump lips, Ianto leaning in to kiss him.

He gave a deep moan of contentment as Idris's mouth closed around swollen, sensitive flesh. Ianto pressed his lips demurely against Jack's, moved downward to suckle gently at each of his nipples, then returned to his mouth.

Of the two of them, Ianto was the more demanding kisser. Unlike Idris, who could be slowed to Jack's preferred languorous pace, Ianto liked to be in charge.

With his fingers curled around the back of Jack's neck and his thumbs pressed against his jawline, he tilted Jack's head back and pushed his tongue forward to flutter the flat deliciously over the roof of his mouth.

When it came to love, commitment and partnership, Jack was (almost always) a one-person man, but when it came to good clean fun, his policy had always been the more the merrier. But, what with one thing and another, he couldn't even remember the last time he had felt tongues eagerly lapping at his cock and his mouth at the same time.

Ianto shifted his weight, and Jack stroked down the sensitive skin of his throat and onto his breastbone. He hadn't shaved since that morning, and his face was rough with bristling stubble, prickling at Jack's lips and rasping against his palm until it gave way to soft, silky chest hair.

Jack gave a sigh of pure satisfaction, then tapped Idris on the shoulder. He turned his eyes questioningly upward.

"C'mon up here," he said, and Idris did, keeping his fingers curled around Jack's shaft.

One arm around each of their shoulders, Jack pulled them both in for a kiss. He tried to manoeuvre them closer together - three-way snogging was one of his favourite things - but they persisted in taking it in turns to kiss him rather than get stuck in together.

"You know," he said, between kisses, "for what I've got in mind, you boys are gonna have to get a bit friendlier."

Ianto and Idris exchanged twinned 'you see what I have to put up with' looks.

Jack considered pointing out that they were making a bit of a meal of it, bearing in mind they were both naked and hard and had in fact been happily licking the same cock just a few minutes ago; but he held his tongue and, after a long, speculative look, Ianto and Idris leaned together until their lips met.

It began as an exploratory, uncertain kiss. Jack watched, smiling proudly, and soon Idris's hand drifted away from Jack's cock to caress Ianto's thigh.

"So what," Ianto asked, "did you have in mind, exactly?" It was clear his question was addressed to Jack, even though his eyes were closed and his forehead was resting against Idris's.

"Well, for a start, you two could stand up," he gave them a gentle push towards the edge of the bed, "and carry on doing what you were doing."

They both looked at him, Ianto politely questioning, Idris sceptical, but they did as they were told.

Once they were on their feet, their contact seemed to revert to the cautious exploring stage. Jack sat on the edge of the mattress and watched as the kiss slowly intensified, stroking encouragingly at hips, thighs and buttocks, giving his own patient but upstanding dick a commiserating squeeze from time to time.

When he judged they were feeling more comfortable with each other, he took a flushed pink cock in either hand and shifted a little further forward.

They were well matched in this arena, too. Idris was maybe a little longer, and Ianto had a little more girth, but there really wasn't anything in it.

He slid his mouth over Idris's cock, swirling his tongue around it and coating it well with saliva, then did the same for Ianto. Pumping a slick penis in each fist, he leaned in to nuzzle at each of them in turn, inhaling their deep, musky scents, each exciting and different, then pulled back to breathe in both of them together, a unique combination that plainly spelt out 'aroused human male'.

His own neglected dick throbbed and tapped insistently on his belly. He mentally apologised to it, and promised to make the wait worthwhile.

With eyes turned upwards to watch their reactions, he sucked Idris's cock into his mouth, moving his hand down to cup and caress his balls, his other hand working Ianto's cock with the same tempo. After a few minutes, he switched.

The two young men were kissing open mouthed, both breathing hard. Ianto kept shooting glances down at Jack, but Idris had his eyes shut. He had an arm around Ianto's waist and a hand pressed to his chest. Ianto let a hand fall casually downwards and pushed his fingers into Jack's hair.

Jack swapped cocks again, slid his mouth from tip to root and back again, then let the plump head pop free from between his lips. He wordlessly encouraged them closer, until he could fit the tips of both into his mouth.

"What're you doing?" Ianto asked breathlessly, a hint of suspicion working its way into his voice.

"Uffink," Jack innocently replied around his mouthful of meat.

Idris gave a short little gasp and an abortive thrust at the feel of Jack's tongue pushing against the underside of his cock. "Still talks with his mouth full, then?" he asked Ianto, his attempted nonchalance betrayed by the heaving of his chest.

"Mmm. Can't seem to shake it." His tone was resigned exasperation, but he smiled fondly downwards.

Jack moved his tongue in a figure of eight around the two cockheads, let them both spring free, and resumed his earlier alternating deep-throating.

True to form, Ianto had taken control of the action above. Cupping Idris's face with firmly guiding hands, he bestowed a series of quick, light half-nips, half-kisses. Idris, his eyes closed, leaned into every short contact.

Jack sat back, massaging a taut length of dick in either hand, and enjoyed the view.

"So," Ianto asked, in between nipping kisses, "what... precisely... did you have... in mind?"

With a grin, Jack rose to his feet and kissed them each in turn, rubbing his poor neglected dick against Ianto's hip, and keeping up a steady pumping pace with both hands.

"Stop stalling," Idris complained when he pulled back.

"I'm not stalling! Honestly, you're so suspicious." He let go and put an arm around each of their waists, pulling them in close, so all three hard cocks were jostling for position.

"Yes, that's because we've met you," Ianto told him patiently, and planted a delicate kiss on his cheek.

Jack gave a joking growl, and squeezed them both tight. "I want you both," he said softly, deliberately pitching his voice low, and meeting each of their eyes in turn.

"Any preference for who's at the arse and who's at the mouth?" Idris asked him matter-of-factly, raising his eyebrows.

Jack shook his head. "Not like that." He brought his hands around, cupped their cocks, and pressed them together between his palms. "I mean I want you both. Inside me." Still using the Deep Low Voice of Ultimate Seduction.

"No," Ianto said.

"No?!"

Idris shook his head in agreement. "Seriously, I don't even like watching that in porn. You can have it the other way, though." He turned to Ianto, brisk and businesslike. "Which end d'you want?"

"Hey!" Jack protested, feeling control of the situation slipping away.

"I'll take the head," Ianto told Idris, his voice calm and even for all that his twitching, throbbing prick was sandwiched between Jack's hand and Idris's cock, "you can have the tail."

"Fair enough," Idris replied, pulling away and directing Jack back towards the bed with a light, friendly slap to the arse. "C'mon, you."

Feeling simultaneously turned on and slightly indignant at being divided up like a cut of meat, Jack went. He admired the view as Idris bent over, rummaging through the bedside drawer for a tube of lube, then turned his eyes back to Ianto. He was kneeling up, his back to the headboard, rubbing his cock idly through his fist. It stood straight and proud, rising from its bed of tight dark curls, so different to any of the flesh around it. Ianto met his eyes. He was wearing the small, lazy, controlled smile that said he really was enjoying himself immensely, even if he didn't plan to get terribly demonstrative about it, and Jack simply had to crane forward for another taste.

Ianto allowed him to slide just the head into his mouth for a short suck before firmly dislodging him. "Patience," he told him, and cupping Jack's cheek with one hand and gripping the base of his own cock in the other, he traced the tip over Jack's lips.

Tasting the barest salty hint of pre-come, he rose onto his hands and knees at the sounds of Idris preparing himself. He swirled his tongue delicately around Ianto's cockhead, the tip tracing the edge of the foreskin, pushed back to reveal the red swollen head. Ianto's eyes drifted closed, and his head tilted back.

Jack felt the mattress dip beneath his knees as Idris moved up close behind him. He smoothed his thumb up over the base of Jack's left buttock, easing him open. He spread his legs wider, and Idris gently worked a slick forefinger into him. He gave a satisfied sigh, making Ianto gasp as warm, moist air blew over the head of his cock.

Idris's finger withdrew, then returned, laden afresh. "You know," Jack said, "we could still try it my way. What d'ya say? Sound like fun?"

Ianto unceremoniously shoved his dick into Jack's mouth. "Shush," he told him, and Idris laughed.

As Jack began to rock gently back and forth, sliding his tensed lips up and down Ianto's shaft, Idris slid his finger back out of the now well-slicked channel, and replaced it with two. He curved them slowly and carefully, finding the sweet spot with ease, and Jack moaned with pleasure. The sound was echoed by Ianto as the vibration was passed on to his cock, held tightly within Jack's mouth.

Idris eased his fingers free, and rubbed the blunt tip of his dick back and forth over Jack's entrance, teasing.

Jack squirmed and gave a little pleading moan, happily shameless, and Idris began to push slowly inside.

Taking his weight on one hand, Jack lifted the other to grip Ianto's thigh, keeping their movements steady and synchronised. Ianto's fingers threaded through his hair once more, and Idris paused, buried up to his balls.

Jack slipped forward until his nose was pressed against the crisp curls of Ianto's pubic hair, breathed in the wonderfully exciting scent of him, and revelled in the feeling of being so completely filled. He rolled his eyes upwards to see that Ianto still had his head tipped back, that lovely length of pale throat vulnerably exposed.

Idris took a firm grip on Jack's hipbones and began to move, slowly at first. Jack matched his pace, pushing back and forth like a piston between the two penises penetrating him, one after the other sinking into him to the hilt.

The only sounds in the cosy little bedroom were moans and gasps of pleasure, and the slap of meeting flesh. Jack wasn't surprised - Idris had never seemed one for talk, and while Ianto was capable of some quite wonderful things, he did have to be coaxed into it, something Jack was not currently in a position to do.

Not that he needed any further stimulation - the beautiful sensations flooding through his body were driving him crazy, and Idris, although in an ideal position to provide a friendly reach-around, was making no move to do so. Jack's own hands were both occupied, and he was loath to disrupt their smooth, easy rhythm to free his mouth to ask for assistance.

He let his eyes close, and focused his mind on the movement, on the swirl and press of his tongue around the head of Ianto's cock every time he pushed back onto Idris, and then inspiration struck.

At the hindmost end of a thrust, he let Ianto's cock pop from between his lips and lifted his hand to take over the duty. "Ianto?" he asked.

Blue-grey eyes, their dark pupils spread wide, looked down at him.

"I wanna fuck you. While he's fucking me. Please?" Jack looked up through his lashes.

Ianto raised a questioning eyebrow at Idris, who simply leaned across Jack's back to hand over the tube of lube.

Jack sat up a little, and treated his cock to a firm squeeze. It felt heavenly, and it was really very difficult to make himself stop. Idris slowed right down until he was just rocking gently against Jack, barely moving inside him, and they both watched as Ianto hurriedly worked slick-laden fingers into himself.

He squeezed out a little more of the clear shining gel and transferred it to Jack's cock. At his sure, slick, sliding touch, Jack flung his head back. "Ah, god, yes," he gasped. "Been waiting for this so long..."

Idris gave a suspiciously smug sounding snigger and a shallow thrust.

Ianto turned around, bent over, and began to edge himself into position. As he shuffled backwards, Jack ran a hand up the back of his leg and over his beautifully presented arse, loving how the soft hair swirling around his thighs stopped abruptly at the base of his buttocks. Together with his hairless back, when viewed from behind, he looked as though he was wearing fuzzy stockings pulled up to the tops of his thighs. It was, in Jack's opinion, unbelievably cute.

Moving carefully, so as not to dislodge Idris, he put his arm around Ianto's waist, propping himself up with the other, and guided him in.

When they were flush together, and Jack's dick was slithering happily lengthways between Ianto's arse cheeks (he had been more than generous with the lube), he released Ianto's waist and, brushing over cock and balls as he went, prompting a delicious wriggle, he eased his hand between their bodies, grasped his cock by the base, and guided it home.

Ianto's body accepted the familiar intruder with ease. The three of them organised themselves carefully into a comfortable arrangement - Ianto on his knees and elbows, legs tucked in towards his chest; Jack kneeling behind him, draped over his back, cheek pressed to his shoulder blade; and Idris kneeling upright behind him, hands still firmly gripping his hips.

Sandwiched between warm, strong bodies, his arse satisfyingly filled as his cock was gripped by Ianto's tight, slick passage, Jack closed his eyes and floated on the wonderful sensations.

It took them a little longer to find a comfortable rhythm in this position, especially as Jack was using one hand to pump at Ianto's cock, still slick with his own saliva, which detracted from his balance somewhat. When they did find a workable pace - Idris doing most of the work, Jack just rocking with his motion, and Ianto doing his best to hold still - Jack felt he could stay like that forever.

"Oh, god, this was a good idea," he said, his cheek still pressed to the smooth skin of Ianto's back. "Don't'cha think?" he prompted, when his comment was countered only with deep, gasping breaths.

"Yes, yes," Idris said impatiently, "you're very clever."

He felt Ianto's ribcage jump, but that was the only outward sign of amusement.

"Feels so good," Jack continued, undaunted. "Mmm, I could do this for years."

For all that he meant it, he could feel the beginnings of his orgasm building. He hastened his tempo at Ianto's cock, making the man beneath him gasp and squirm at the increased sensations.

"Please," Jack said, softly and breathlessly, turning his eyes back over his shoulder. "Faster, Idris, please..."

His sweet sunshine smile finally breaking through the cynical veneer he'd been wearing ever since they'd turned up on his doorstep, Idris stepped up the pace.

Jack could feel Ianto's shoulders trembling, and he obligingly took more of his weight on his free hand. His breath hitching at the top of every inhale, Ianto began shoving himself back harder against Jack's penetrating cock, and five or six thrusts later, he was squeezing Jack mercilessly inside him and arching his neck back as his come flooded over Jack's fingers. With a shaky gasp, he let his upper body fall to the mattress, the tensions in his still-taut muscles subtly altered since his climax.

Jack milked the last few aftershocks, pushed himself a little more upright, gripped Ianto's hips firmly in both hands, and rode him quickly towards his own finish.

He and Idris moved effortlessly into a counter-rhythm, Jack pulling back as Idris pushed forward, and they came within a heartbeat of one another.

All three gratefully disentangled themselves and flopped down onto the soft yielding surface, Jack in the middle. Idris wiped himself off onto the already wet and sticky top sheet, then stripped it off the bed, poking Jack unceremoniously out of the way, but waiting politely for Ianto to move.

Jack lay back with a wide grin and wrapped an arm around each of his bedfellows, enjoying the expanses of fair skin, flushed pink with exertion, and damp with sweet fresh sweat.

Ianto turned onto his side, facing inwards, drawing his knees up into a semi-foetal position. His eyes drifted closed, and he snuggled into Jack's armpit, wearing a small, satisfied smile.

On his other side, Idris turned his gorgeous green-hazel eyes - easily his best feature, Jack had always thought - upwards. "I still hate you, you know," he said, smiling, and rested his cheek on Jack's chest.

"Okay," Jack said agreeably, and kissed his forehead.

Listening to their breathing slow and deepen, Jack ran his eyes down the two bodies, lit by the soft yellow glow of the small bedside lamp. Here was an excellent example of the vagaries of human design - although their erect penises had been close to identical in size, now Idris's had telescoped right back, shrinking in length by almost four inches; but Ianto's lay across the top of his thigh, soft and sleeping, but not much reduced in size. Although he had wiped himself off on the sheet now balled up in the laundry basket, one last drop of pearly glistening come had welled up to sit atop the slit. Jack reached down and wiped it away with his thumb.

At his touch, Ianto contracted himself inwards, protectively. "No," he protested, his voice thick with oncoming sleep.

"Shh," Jack whispered. He brushed his damp thumb over Ianto's mouth, and the younger man raised his head for a kiss, not opening his eyes. Jack licked the salty liquid from his lips, and he settled back down, curled up, catlike, against Jack's side.

He loved watching Ianto sleep. Relaxed and vulnerable, he looked so much younger, especially with that cute little snub nose scrunched up against the pillows.

Idris rolled over onto his side, his back to the pair of them, then shuffled in to close the gap. Held safe between the two warm bodies, Jack smiled happily to himself and closed his eyes.

***

He awoke, as he usually did, far too early; but Ianto was used to that sort of thing, and barely stirred as he crawled out from between them. Idris opened his eyes, returned Jack's smile, then closed them again.

Several hours later, Jack was sitting with his feet propped comfortably on the coffee table, his coat wrapped around him for warmth and one of Idris's less expensive looking books in his lap, when a pale figure paced across the room.

Idris, as naked as Jack was beneath the coat. He waved an acknowledging hand in Jack's direction, not turning his head. With his eyes back on the book, Jack heard the click of a lightswitch, the trickle of urine, and the woosh of a flushing toilet.

On his way back through the living room, Idris stopped, stretched, and yawned. Jack smiled and enjoyed the view.

Idris rubbed his eyes, then jerked his head towards the bedroom door. "We're awake, if you fancy another round," he invited, and walked away without waiting for Jack's reaction.

"Wha'd'ya mean, if?" he demanded. Flinging his coat behind him to cover the abandoned book, he followed the round, white curves of Idris's bare bottom.

Back in the bedroom, Ianto was lying on his side, hugging the blankets to his chest, and blinking sleepily at the two of them. The soft glow of the bedside lamp caught the fine hairs on his forearm, making them shine like golden wires.

Idris sat on the bed and propped his ankle on his knee, grinning deviously. "Oh, you know," he answered Jack's outraged demand, "the older gentleman's recovery time..."

Jack planted his hands on his hips. "How dare you."

Idris laughed happily in the face of his slightly overacted annoyance. "Oh yeah?" he challenged.

"Hell yeah." He shoved Idris hard in the chest, then dropped down on top of his fallen body.

He made an "oufff" sound as Jack's impact knocked the wind out of him, then dragged in another breath to laugh, helplessly. Ianto propped himself up on his elbow and watched them with an indulgent smile.

Jack ground his cock, which had been sitting up and taking notice ever since the vision of loveliness had wandered through to the toilet and was now rock hard, against Idris' crotch, catching his wrists in his hands, and pinning them down at either side of his head. "Something you wanted to say to me?"

"All right, all right," Idris gasped between laughter, "you're a big butch manly stud, I'm sorry..."

Jack smiled smugly and kissed him. "That's better."

His wrists still pinned, Idris pressed the inside of his thigh against Jack's hip, hooking his heel behind his knee. There was a rustle of bedclothes, and Ianto suddenly appeared at the edge of Jack's field of vision, lying on his stomach, his chin resting on his clasped hands, watching the two of them like an entomologist who'd just come across a nest of wonderfully interesting beetles.

Jack stroked his hands down the smooth, pale skin of Idris's inner forearms, then rolled until they were both lying on their sides. He pulled away, and Idris made to follow him, but Jack tapped him lightly on the nose with the tip of his forefinger. "You stay there."

Mindful of Ianto, lying stretched out behind him, eyes following his every move, Jack turned himself around. "Ah, right," Idris said, sounding pleased, and slid his hands over Jack's hips.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed with pleasure as his dick slipped slowly into Idris's mouth. He took a moment to carefully settle himself into a more comfortable position before turning his attention to the insistent cock before his own eyes.

A pretty cock to go with his pretty face, flushed an eager pink and bobbing upwards with every heartbeat. Jack stroked the crisp, close-cropped hair surrounding it, gently teasing, then cradled the heavy balls underneath. Rolling his fingers in a wave, moving the soft, vulnerable testicles within their pouch of velvety skin, he locked the other arm around Idris's waist, holding them both in place.

Feeling Idris's lips dragged to the tip of his own cock and back again, Jack stretched out his tongue, and licked Idris delicately just beneath the head. The younger man's thighs and buttocks tensed in anticipation, and Jack grinned.

He used his tongue like a scoop to pull the head into his mouth, and closed his lips around it. Idris moaned, and the vibrations felt wonderful. Jack eased his way down the shaft, moving his tongue slowly against the hot, hard flesh.

The mattress dipped behind him, and hands gripped his shoulders. Ianto. He disengaged from Idris's cock, replacing mouth with hand, to turn his head and kiss Ianto's fingers. He loved those fingers. If Idris's best feature was his eyes, Ianto's was easily his hands. Those long elegant fingers that should belong to a surgeon or a pianist. Or maybe a master tailor. Although he'd never met the man, Jack imagined Ianto had his father's hands.

Ianto spooned up against Jack's back, planting a series of dry little kisses along his shoulders and the back of his neck. Letting his eyes close, Jack sucked Idris's cock back into his mouth. It felt so good, warm flesh pressed against him, front and back, his mouth satisfyingly full, Idris's tongue twirling beautifully over the head of his cock.

He could feel Ianto's erection growing, pressed up against his bottom. He squirmed encouragingly against him. Ianto just rubbed soothingly at his shoulders, his warm, moist breath ghosting over Jack's neck.

Moving his hips ever so slightly - not enough to inconvenience Idris, but enough to make it clear he was at Ianto's disposal - Jack returned his attention to Idris. Pushing forward until his nose was pressed against the soft swell of his scrotum, he eased an arm beneath Idris's hips until he could cup a lean rounded buttock in either hand. He drew them gently apart and wriggled his fingers inwards, massaging the prick in his mouth with tongue and throat.

Idris gave a short gasping moan and curved his spine, thrusting his backside out to afford Jack easier access. Holding apart his handfuls of flesh, Jack traced one fingertip lightly over the little pouting circle, usually so deeply hidden. He made no attempt to penetrate, but simply stroked over the surface, teasing the sensitive skin, making Idris gasp with pleasure.

Ianto was apparently thinking along the same lines. Those elegant fingers Jack loved so much had left his shoulders, and were probing insistently, slick with lube, at Jack's own entrance. He gave a deep moan of approval, unable to do anything more with Idris's hard length filling his mouth and pressing down his tongue. Ianto pushed his fingers inside, stroking where Idris's cock had been thrusting, only a few short hours ago.

Idris began to relax under Jack's finger, the tightly clasped flesh surrendering. Mindful that there was nothing to ease the way but a light dew of sweat, he stroked a little deeper, dipping into the offered softness by mere millimetres.

Ianto's fingers withdrew, and the round head of his cock pressed in their place. Jack relaxed and opened to him, and he popped easily inside. His forehead resting on the back of Jack's neck and his hands clutching at his shoulders, Ianto shuffled in closer. With all three of them lying on their sides, he couldn't really thrust, but instead he rocked back and forth, almost nudging his cock in and out of Jack.

At the apex of each nudge, Jack pushed carefully back to meet him. Idris's breath was coming quicker and deeper, blowing little fans of air over Jack's balls and thighs. And he would occasionally forget he was in the middle of giving Jack a blow-job - his lips and tongue would still, his hands simply cling to Jack's hip and thigh. Then, with a start, he would remember, and normal service would be abruptly resumed, only to slow to a halt again a few minutes later. Taking it as a compliment, Jack swallowed carefully around his dick, making him drag in a deep, ragged breath through his nose.

With eager anticipation, Jack doubled his efforts, pulling away a little to slide his lips up and down Idris's spit-slick shaft, his tongue twisting and rubbing, lapping over the head at the back of each stroke. He squeezed his handfuls of pale-skinned bottom, moving the finger between in almost random patterns.

Slipping off Jack's cock, moving his lightly curled fist where his mouth had been, Idris gasped "Jack, I'm... I'm so close..."

That light, beautiful voice, lost in pleasure, did wonderful things to Jack. He twirled his tongue rapidly around the head of Idris's rock-hard cock, and pushed the tip of his forefinger past the guardian ring of clasped muscle.

With a shout, Idris thrust forward, arching his neck back away from Jack's groin, and pushing his spurting cock deeper into Jack's mouth.

Swallowing the pulsing bursts of come, Jack released his grip on Idris's buttocks, and instead wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer and holding him tight. He could feel the muscles under his forearms jumping and twitching as Idris rode the waves of his orgasm, and the last of his come seeped forth onto Jack's tongue.

Ianto had stilled, buried deep. Jack let Idris's cock slip free, then tapped him on the hip. "C'm'ere," he told him.

With half-vacant, pleasure-glazed eyes, Idris turned himself around. He smothered a yawn with the back of his hand. "Sorry," he said, sheepishly.

Jack gathered him close, cupped his hand, and drew it to his own hard, impatient dick. Idris obligingly wrapped his fingers around it and pumped, setting a slow, languorous pace to suit his current mood. Jack kissed him, and their tongues caressed to the same tempo.

Turning his head back over his shoulder, Jack kissed Ianto. The angle was difficult, and their tongues made contact far more than their lips, but he didn't mind that.

With a little more range, now he was no longer compensating for Idris's part in their pattern, Ianto began to rock into Jack again, his cock sliding back and forth, his hips and thighs rubbing against Jack's skin.

"Yeah," Jack breathed, rolling his neck back to nuzzle at Ianto's rough cheek. He could feel the soft prickle of chest hair against his back. "Oh, yeah, that's so good..."

Idris smiled, slow and lazy. "You know," he said, "this really hasn't been all that bad, has it?" He brought his free hand up to cup Jack's balls.

Jack laughed. "Hey, everyone always has a good time with the captain."

Idris lifted his head to address Ianto over Jack's shoulder. "Do you find it a bit creepy when he starts talking about himself in the third person?"

"I've always suspected," Ianto replied, matching Idris's calm, formal tone even as he pushed his hard cock into Jack's willing arsehole, "that 'the captain' doesn't actually refer to his entire person."

Idris smiled his bright sunshine smile, and the eyes that met Jack's held a gleeful, mischievous glint.

Those beautiful eyes, and beautiful voices, Ianto's cock rubbing remorselessly over his sweet spot and Idris's fingers twisting around the blood-swollen flesh of his cock were bringing Jack closer and closer to the edge. He pushed his hands into Idris's thick soft hair and pulled him closer, nose to nose and forehead to forehead. "Cheeky," he gasped. "I'll have the pair of you over my knee."

"Promises, promises," Ianto said, his voice shaking a little, and he shifted his grip on Jack's hip, rolling his pelvis to slap easily over and over into Jack's buttocks, his pace steadily increasing.

Pleasure building and tightening and peaking inside him, Jack cupped Idris's cheek and turned his face for a kiss. With a deep, satisfied groan, he came; his tongue in Idris's mouth and Ianto's cock buried in him up to the balls.

Ianto cried out hoarsely as Jack squeezed him tight. He shifted his leg for better leverage and thrust quickly and fiercely to his own climax.

"Ah yeah," Jack said happily, as Ianto rolled away onto his back, his chest heaving. Jack squirmed gently, the combination of Ianto's come and the remaining lube leaving him feeling slick and open.

"Bloody 'ell," Idris complained, wiping the ropes of Jack's come decorating his hand onto the bedclothes, "I'm running out of clean sheets."

Jack let Idris chase both him and Ianto out the bedroom, and took a quick shower while Idris fussed over the bed. He'd barely stepped in before Ianto began splashing in the sink.

He poked his head around the shower curtain. "Come on in here, I'll wash your back for you."

Ianto gave him a considering look, then shrugged a little and joined him. "Just quickly, though," he said, stepping up close and wrapping his arms around Jack, his chin on his shoulder. "And don't get my hair wet."

Jack rubbed swirls of soap over his back and buttocks. Ianto made a little "mmm" of contentment in his ear.

"Well?" Jack asked, quietly.

"Yes, all right, it was a good idea."

"Good." Pause. Then, hesitantly, "something you might want to happen again?"

Ianto gave a little huff of laughter. "I might be persuaded."

Jack grinned, and backed him into the water, rinsing away the lather. "You know, I'm starting to like this whole freelance agent idea. Maybe we should try and recruit some more. Maybe some firemen. I've always liked firemen."

"I think you're supposed to call them firefighters now." With a quick kiss, Ianto exited the shower. "And it's a good thing you like the idea, given that Idris's memory seems indestructible."

"Fair point," Jack replied, leaning back to watch as Ianto rubbed a fluffy white towel over his body. "Though, given time, I'm sure I could come up with something."

"Mmm-hmm. Night, Jack."

He flipped the towel onto the rail, and shut the bathroom door behind him. Jack grinned to himself, stepped into the flow of warm water, and mentally replayed the night's events. Next time, he thought, he would have to bring some massage oil. He thought of soft, relaxed flesh, slick and shining, and his grin widened.

Or maybe he could talk them into some friendly wrestling. That might be fun, and could lead to all sorts of interesting things...

Towelling himself off, he made his way back to the bedroom. Ianto and Idris had beaten him to it. They lay tucked up, fast asleep, almost nose-to-nose. With a fond smile, Jack switched off the light and tip-toed back to the living room.

He waited for a more reasonable hour before venturing out in search of the components of breakfast. Bacon sandwiches in bed after a night of good honest debauchery was a sacred tradition.

Either the enticing smell of grilling bacon or the bright morning light had done their work, and Jack buttered the thick white slices of bread to the faint sound of voices, Ianto's deep and husky, Idris's crisp and lighter. While the beautiful, lyrical lilt of the conversation was obvious enough, he couldn't make out many of the actual words.

Not that he minded. He loved Welsh accents, they were gorgeous, and sexy as hell. Just like the two Welshmen who were waiting for him.

He slapped the bacon onto the bread - brown sauce for Idris, ketchup for Ianto (he was young, he would learn), and au naturale for himself.

He paused outside the bedroom door as a loud peal of laughter came from within. He had rather suspected that the two of them would get on like a house on fire once they'd got past their initial instinctive territorial reactions, but even over the course of last night they had become worryingly in sync, most frequently at his expense.

His grin crept back. There were much worse things than having those two run rings around him.

He pushed open the door. Ianto, in boxer shorts and shirt, first three buttons undone and sleeves pushed up to his elbows, sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. Idris, wearing his dark green dressing gown, leaned against the headboard, legs tucked under the blankets. At Jack's plate-laden entrance, they turned and greeted him with bright smiles.

Life, Jack thought, settling down to breakfast in bed with his two young lovers, really wasn't all bad.

***

fin

***

Notes: As you may already know, 'Idris Hopper' was the original character name for Ianto (it was changed when GDL was cast, as a kind of in joke - the character he played in Mine all Mine (also an RTD creation) was called Yanto Jones).

Also, GDL was at one point going to play the TV version of Idris - the mayor's secretary in Boom Town.

All of which puts a rather interesting spin on the Twilight Streets's Ianto/Idris parallels, and which also turned me into a tiny squeeing puddle of fanthingishness the first time I read it. :)