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Title: "Customer Service"
Fandoms: Supernatural/Torchwood
Pairing: Ianto Jones/John Winchester
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Never happened.
Summary: John's in need of some information.
Notes: J. asked for this crossover for her birthday.
Set between S1 and S2 of Torchwood.


The bell above the door jingled when John stepped into the tiny tourisim office just off of Roald Dahl Plass in Cardiff, Wales. The place wasn't much to look at – a wood panel counter covered most of the length of one wall, a few maps were in racks in the front, and a couple of books that looked like they hadn't been touched by human hands in forever lined the shelves along the sides.

Must not be a lot of tourists visiting these days. Then again, from the little John had seen of Wales, he didn't imagine most tourists came to the country for anything other than the admittedly gorgeous scenery. Didn't seem to be much else to do.

Not like he was here on vacation, anyway.

There was a back room, with a beaded curtain separating it from the main room. John peered back, but couldn't see much. "Hello?" he called, wondering what sort of retired grandmotherly type was keeping an eye on the place. Maybe he'd interrupted her knitting circle or something.

Then again, maybe it wasn't a grandmother at all.

"Hello," he repeated, this time an appreciative murmur, when the well-dressed young man stepped out of the back room and stood behind the counter. The kid (John pegged him as mid-20s) was tall, well-built, with very nice shoulders and a strong face that still showed a hint of softness. His hair, not quite blond, not quite dark, was just the right length to be tousled by roving hands... Yeah, definitely not a grandmother.

And it had been far too long since John had indulged himself.

"Well, hullo there," the other man said, casting a surreptitiously approving eye John's way. "How may I...help you, sir?"

John didn't know if it was the 'sir' or the slight pause or the way the guy was not quite undressing him with his eyes, but, whatever it was, John recognized the invitation for what it was. And he wanted more. No harm in getting in some stress relief while he was on the job.

"Yeah," he finally said, with a look that returned the favor. He wondered if the kid's lips were as soft as they looked. "I'm looking for some information on a local legend. Gilfaethwy. Maybe you've heard of him?"

"Certainly, sir." Those soft lips quirked into a smile that crinkled the corners of gorgeously framed eyes. "But it's pronounced Gil-vay-thooee."

John repeated it back and managed, mostly, not to mangle it. "Sounds better when you say it."

"Thank you." The smile turned into a smirk. "Gilfaethwy, Welsh God, famous for raping virgins and starting wars. And shagging his brother, of course. They were both animals at the time," the other man added, when John lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course," he replied mildly.

"Information on Welsh gods isn't the usual reason people drop in here, though."

John shrugged, noticed the way that the other man's eyes tracked the movement. Noticed the strong hands, and wondered what they'd be like wrapped around his cock. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for local legends."

"Well, you're in luck. I happen to have a book on Welsh gods in the back room if you wanted to wait for me to find it." The slight pause was calculatedly nonchalant. "Or...you could keep me company."

Better and better. "No one'll miss you?"

"Slow day, sir." Now the smile was slight, dimpled the corners of that lush mouth. "If you'd be so kind as to flip the lock?"

"Right." Smart and good-looking, which John appreciated. He did as asked and walked into the back room, pausing just inside to admire the very nice view. The other man was stretched enticingly, reaching for a book on a top shelf. John, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, took advantage. He stepped forward, crowding space, testing muscle and heat and barely leashed power. Yeah, he was gonna have fun with this kid.

"Gotta say, I love the suit," he murmured, teeth marking the side of a very nibblable neck.

"I get that a lot," came the slightly strangled reply. "Thank you. Sir."

John rocked forward, pushing his erection against that gorgeous-looking ass. It felt just as good as it looked. "It's John."

"Ianto."

"Nice to meet you, Ianto." Then John spun Ianto around, and yanked on a no-doubt very expensive tie, pulling Ianto in for a hard, toe-curling kiss. Yeah, just as he'd thought, the kid had some seriously soft lips, and some seriously nice moves. In no time flat, he was the one pressed against the shelves, and Ianto was grinding against him, muttering between kisses in a language John assumed was Welsh. Sounded hot as hell.

John dove back in, sucked on a slick tongue, tugged on Ianto's tie until he was able to slide it off. The buttons of Ianto's shirt were next, and Ianto gave a beautiful moan when John started to slide roughened hands along Ianto's chest. "How do you want to do this?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer as he slanted his mouth across Ianto's again for another kiss.

"Top drawer of the desk," Ianto groaned, and snaked a hand under John's waistband to curl around his cock. They felt just as nice as he'd hoped.

John let out his own moan as he reached back, fumbled in the drawer, and brought out a small bottle of lube and a condom. "Part of the tourism package?" he asked, and smiled when Ianto laughed.

"Impatient boss."

John paused in the act of raking his teeth along Ianto's throat. "He's not gonna come busting in, is he?"

"Doubtful." Ianto gasped, started stroking John's cock in earnest. "He's...away on business...at t-the moment."

"Lucky me," John grinned, and unzipped Ianto's slacks with a practiced flick of his thumb.

"Lucky me," Ianto rebutted, then bit John's lower lip on the next kiss.

In no time, John had Ianto bent over the desk, pants dropped so his ass was bared, and was busy sliding lube along his cock. "You look good like that," he commented.

"I'll look better in a minute." Cocky kid, John liked him already. "No need," Ianto said, shaking his head when John made a move to slide two slick fingers into Ianto's ass. "Just your cock."

John liked to think of himself as an obliging lover, so he did as asked, even though he did take the time to spread more lube over his cock. He had no intentions of hurting anyone. "Like this?" he asked, growling the words in Ianto's ear as he bent over Ianto, guiding his cock slowly inside.

"P-perfect." Ianto took short, hard breaths as John worked his way in, one gradual inch at a time. Kid's ass gripped him like a vice. No wonder his boss was the impatient type.

When he was seated completely, he stilled, letting Ianto get used to him, used the time to tilt Ianto's head to get at that mouth again. After a moment, Ianto nudged back, letting John wordlessly know he was ready.

After that, it was a blur. The desk groaned under their combined weight as John moved with hard, precise thrusts. Ianto pushed back with his hands, met John halfway, moaning in time, jacket and shirt bunching at his back. Sweat started to bead up on John's forehead, drip down his neck, and he closed his eyes against the sting.

"C'mon," Ianto panted, thighs flexing against John's, urging him to take more. John took the hint, framed Ianto's hips in a vise-like grip, rhythm forgotten in the urge to come. He could dimly hear, over the roaring in his ears, wetly slapping sounds that meant Ianto was jerking himself off and it only spurned him on to move faster, deeper, harder. Ianto came first, body reflexively tightening around John's, and that was all it took for John to come as well.

He had no idea how long he lay slumped over Ianto, both of them taking deep, stuttering breaths, hearts racing. "Goddamn," he muttered, when thought he could speak, and finally stood, using his t-shirt to wipe the worst of the sweat off his brow. Ianto turned on his back while John disposed of the condom, and John thought to himself that the kid looked damn good all debauched and flushed like that, pants around his ankles, shirt unbuttoned and jacket hopelessly crumpled.

"Didn't hurt you, did I?"

Ianto shook his head, and finally stood, bringing his pants up with him. "But thank you for asking."

"So." Now that the euphoria and lust had worn off, John felt curiously adrift.

Ianto just smiled, and patted John's cheek as he passed on the way to the bathroom. "We close at 8. I expect dinner before we do this again," he called out over the sound of running water.

Then again, maybe the kid was onto something. "Long as you pick the place," John said back, and let out an inward laugh. Bested by a kid Dean's age, and so skillfully he'd never even noticed.

Ianto popped his head out the door. "Of course," he grinned. "Now, off with you. I do have work."

It wasn't until the next morning – after a very satisfying evening exploring Ianto's body on a real bed – that John remembered that he never did pick up the book he'd needed.


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