Sleepless
By Tiriel
NC-17, m/m
Part Two of Illusion, an Ian/Jake Witchblade series.
So even before Thanatopsis aired (that'd be the ep where Ian -sort of- invites Jake into his bed, for those who've been napping), I had four more stories plotted. Counting this one. I swear they were all laid out ahead of time. The show's writers are playing right into my hands. Now all I need is more time to write...
Disclaimer: They are *so* not mine that it isn't even funny. I'm not making any money, here or elsewhere, so don't sue.
Takes place after the fourth ep, "Sacrifice" --Sad Eyes Ian just made me melt.
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Sleepless
By Tiriel
Jake frowned and rubbed his eyes. He hated paperwork, and these reports were especially difficult because of the unanswered questions about Brian Reilly's death. And to make things worse, Jake had his own suspicions about who had killed him. The kind of suspicions he definitely wouldn't be putting down on paper. He was tired and he was tense. It was going to be a long night. Correction--it had already been a long night.
His partner's voice shook him from his thoughts. "I'm going to get a fresh cup of coffee. You want one?"
"That'd be great. Thanks, Pezz."
"No problem. I'll be right back."
His cell phone rang as soon as she was out of their office. He pulled it from his pocket and answered.
"McCartey."
There was only breathing on the other end of the line.
Jake's heart thumped against his ribs. "If this is an obscene phone call, I think you should know that I'm a cop."
A huff of almost-laughter. "I'm calling about a break-in."
Jake leaned back in his chair, reports forgotten for the moment. "Wrong division. I work Homicide. Now if you were calling to confess to a murder, then you'd want to talk to me."
"Sorry, Detective. You'll have to look elsewhere for Brian Reilly's executioner. All I can offer you is a piece of advice."
Ian's voice was like silk on Jake's skin, cool and smooth and relaxing. He felt his muscles begin to unknot. "Yeah, what's that?"
"It's a dangerous city. Are you sure your apartment is safe from intruders?"
The line went dead. With a shake of his head, Jake dropped his phone back into his pocket, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. He nearly collided with Sara, who was returning with two cups of coffee.
"Whoa, slow down. Where's the fire?"
"Just remembered something I need to take care of."
"What, McCartey, you've got a hot date at three a.m.? What about the reports?"
Jake didn't let himself smile at that. He just kept walking, calling back over his shoulder, "I'll finish my share of the paperwork first thing in the morning. And now you've got an extra cup of coffee."
He hurried out of the station, grinning freely as soon as he was alone in his car. Ian hadn't been responsible for Reilly's death, and he was almost certainly waiting for Jake at home.
The apartment was dark, lit only by moonlight. When he didn't hear Ian's voice from the shadows behind him, Jake turned on a light, hung up his jacket, and walked toward the bedroom. "Ian?"
He stopped dead in the doorway, halfway through the turnstile, paralyzed by the sight before him. He felt like the breath had been sucked right out of his body.
"Come to bed."
There was a pile of black clothing nearby on the floor. Neatly folded, Jake was sure, although it was too dark to tell. The light coming in from behind him cast his shadow onto the bed, where he could see Ian, his dark hair spread against the pillow. He was lying on his side, one arm and most of his back visible, the rest of him covered by the sheet.
Jake swallowed hard. There was something he'd meant to ask, and he searched his mind for the question. "I saw you leaving the crime scene. You looked kind of...sad. What's going on?" He didn't expect an answer. Ian answered so few of his questions.
Ian's body shifted a little, and Jake heard a long exhale of breath, not quite a sigh. "Something is going to happen." Something terrible, from the sound of his voice.
"What can I do?"
"Nothing. It can't be stopped."
"Then what can I do for you?"
"What you always do. Make me forget. Come to bed." Ian rolled onto his back, shrugging the sheet off as he did. He lay there naked, with one knee up and his legs open.
Bittersweet longing balled up in Jake's throat. This thing that had upset Ian, whatever was coming, it probably had nothing to do with the two of them, but it was a reminder that every time could be their last. He stood for a moment, breathing hard, until he felt like he could move again. "I think we've got something backwards here." He walked toward the bed, shedding his clothing as he went. "'Someone's been sleeping in my bed, and there he is.' Isn't the blonde the one in the bed in that story?"
"So join me."
"Man, Goldilocks never had it so good." Jake dropped the last of his clothes to the floor and got onto the bed, sliding into Ian's waiting embrace. The smooth sensation of Ian's skin on his made the last of his tension vanish. They held each other close for a moment, breathing deeply. Jake pulled his head back to look into Ian's eyes, stroking his hair with one hand. They kissed, a deep, searching kiss that woke their usual passion.
Jake pulled away and lowered his head to trace the ridge of Ian's collarbone with his tongue. Then he continued downward, roughly licking each of Ian's nipples once. He ran his hands along Ian's sides, feeling muscles shift under his fingertips as Ian moved beneath him.
On another night, he might have spent a long time lapping at Ian's stomach and inner thighs, teasing him with the promise of more, but not tonight. Tonight he went right for the prize, holding the base of Ian's erection firmly in one hand and taking it into his mouth.
"Jake," Ian panted, then fell silent.
Jake continued to leisurely suck and lick at Ian's cock, occasionally taking it all the way into his mouth. His goal wasn't to bring Ian off, but to wipe away all his other cares and thoughts, fill his mind only with desire. It seemed to be working.
Ian's breathing was punctuated by small sounds of pleasure instead of his usual inscrutable silence. He tugged at Jake's shoulder.
Jake took the hint and crawled back up to kiss Ian. Their hips moved together, Ian's spit-slick erection sliding slowly against Jake's as they kissed. Ian moved his mouth to Jake's ear, grazing his teeth along its edge before whispering, low and rough, "I want you inside me."
Jake felt a rush of heat run through his body. As different from his usual sinister, shadowy self as Ian was when they were alone, he looked the least guarded, the most free, when Jake was inside him. Which might be why he didn't ask for it often. Jake bit down on his own lip to keep himself in control.
Ian handed him a bottle of lube, produced from somewhere off to the side of the bed as if by magic. Jake squeezed some out onto his hand and leaned over Ian, supporting himself on one arm as he pushed first one finger, then two, into Ian's tight opening.
He and Ian were sharing the same air, harsh breathing the only sound until Ian spoke again. "Now." Then, almost as an afterthought, "Please."
Jake slicked himself up and pressed his cock slowly and smoothly into the incredible heat and pressure of Ian's body. When he was fully sheathed, he paused for a moment, until Ian reached out and pushed against his chest. Then Jake began to roll his hips, starting with small movements, then building up to longer and deeper thrusts, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in deep and hard. He found just the right speed and angle to make Ian's breathing dissolve into a moan, a pure, unrestrained sound that pulled an answering moan from Jake. He reached for Ian's cock, stroking it in an off-tempo rhythm.
Ian's limbs tensed, then went slack. He twitched slightly as his warm semen spilled out onto Jake's hand. Jake bit down on his lip again, resisting the pull of Ian's muscles, and continued to thrust until Ian went completely boneless under him, lost in sensation. Then he gave a few final, jerky thrusts and came, the release passing through him from head to toe.
Jake pulled out gently and lay down, tugging the relaxed Ian into his arms and burying his nose in Ian's hair. They lay there, spooned together, until Ian's body began to tense again. "I have to go."
Jake groaned, but lifted his arm so Ian could get up easily. "And I should get back to the station. I have reports to finish." He sat up and stretched.
Ian dressed quietly as Jake watched.
"Ian," he said after a long silence, "I want to be able to do more than just make you forget. Give me something to do, please. Let me help."
Ian, his back turned, paused before answering. "All right. I'll call on you soon."
Jake smiled with surprise. "Thank you."
"You looked good when you met Sara at Badlands a couple of weeks ago. It reminded me of the night we met."
Jake chuckled, looking down for a moment. "I was wearing a little less than that the night we met." He looked back up, but Ian was already gone.
The End...for now...