Fic: Torchwood: Need; Jack/Ianto
Jan. 5th, 2008 06:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beccaelizabethTorchwood
Fic: Need
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: sweet and innocent... sorta
Spoilers: refers to the end of Doctor Who season 3
Word Count: 1181
Summary: Sometimes you can't just ignore the dark.
Author's Notes: Little angsty snuggly thing that sprang from someone else's image - Jack, after the Valiant, was always rubbing his wrists.
Beta by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pinkdormouse
Jack ran one thumb under the wristband on his watch, then sighed and adjusted it again. Third time today. Tighter this time. The well-worn slot he’d kept it on for years just wasn’t right any more, though damned if he could figure if it needed more or less play. Finished with that, he ran his other hand over the gap where his Vortex Manipulator strapped on. That he hadn’t any doubt about; tighter was better. He’d only eased it off when he realised it was leaving marks. Still felt a little rough around the edges. He kept catching himself with fingers looped around the front edge, rubbing at it.
A fresh cup of coffee appeared on Jack’s desk, just past the mess of paperwork, at the edge of his vision. A hand reached for the old cup, which was playing paperweight on a stack of files Jack didn’t want to forget, then hesitated as dark liquid sloshed around inside.
Jack blinked and tried a vague half grin. “Here, let me just…” He grabbed the cup, and raised it quickly to knock back what was left.
“Don’t…” Ianto said, too late.
Jack grimaced and thought to spit it back, but year long habit overruled him and he’d already gulped the stone cold stuff. “Gah! How long was that…” He trailed off. Put it back down with a frown creasing his face.
“Sorry,” Ianto said, taking the empty from him again. He pushed the fresh cup forward.
Jack shook his head. “I just lost track. Lots to catch up on.” He nodded vaguely at the file pile. The frown stayed in place as he noted how very little had moved as far as the out tray since he’d sat down.
“Yes,” Ianto agreed, “Owen’s expense claims alone are a masterpiece.” The line lacked the usual sarcastic sting, and Jack looked up to see a faint frown reflected there. Ianto watched him with eyes full of questions and concern.
Jack looked away and grabbed the coffee, sipping carefully.
“It’s alright?” Ianto asked him, after a pause.
Jack looked up and flashed a distracted smile. “Yeah, great. Yours is always the best.”
“Yet this isn’t the first full cup I’ve found around here lately.”
Jack ignored the worry in the tone and answered full of contrition. “I know, I’m sorry, I should clean up after myself more.” A more winning grin didn’t make much headway. Ianto still watched him, avoiding questions so loudly even Owen could have heard it. Jack looked away and shrugged. “I guess enforced caffeine withdrawal takes a little while to get over. I won’t be back on the rocket fuel for a while yet.”
“I figured that out after the incident with Owen. Much as we enjoyed seeing him with egg on his face, we’d rather you weren’t that jumpy at breakfast, even after an all nighter.”
Jack’s grin was just a little weak this time. The egg had been funny; the punching was not.
Jack put the coffee down again, and picked up the nearest bit of paper.
Ianto watched him for a moment, then dropped his head and sighed. He picked up the empty cup, turned, and stepped away.
Jack relaxed back in his seat and tried to focus on the page.
Then Ianto straightened up and came back. He pushed some folders out of the way and sat on the corner of the desk. “Jack.”
Jack sighed, looked up, and affected a slight puzzlement. “Ianto?”
Ianto looked him squarely in the eye. “What do you need?”
Jack raised an eyebrow, then tried for his best leer. Became aware it came out kind of half strength. Dropped the paper anyway, and ran his hand up Ianto’s thigh instead. “What did you have in mind?”
Ianto smiled, and caught hold of him before he reached the really interesting places. “Not what you want,” he said, then raised hand to lips and pressed a soft kiss there. “Though that’s always welcome.” He kept hold of Jack, ran his thumb over his palm. “I need you to tell me – what do you need?” He left a pause for Jack to answer, then continued, soft but insistent. “We know we shouldn’t walk up behind you. We know you sit in here for hours. You rub at your wrists all the time.”
“I don’t…”
Ianto held his hand up for evidence, tapped on his watch band. It was noticeably pinching into his flesh. Jack subsided, and sighed.
“Please, Jack, tell me.” Ianto leaned in closer now, almost whispering. “What do you need?”
Jack closed his eyes, let his head sag to his chest, and grabbed Ianto’s hand real tight. He said into the darkness, tiredly, “Damned if I know.”
When he looked up at his lover Jack’s eyes were two worlds of dark and pain.
Ianto’s eyes stayed as soft as his voice. “Okay.” He shifted closer. “So… let someone else figure it out. Tell me.”
Jack looked away.
“Whatever it is… Whatever happened to you… I think with all we’ve been through I can understand.” Ianto paused, offered an alternative with some reluctance. “Or we can find someone who can. Gwen? Owen?” Jack laughed bitterly at that. Ianto went further afield. “Someone from UNIT, maybe, or… Martha.”
“No,” Jack snapped. “Hell no. She’s got her own year, and her family’s, she doesn’t need my… issues.”
“Neither do you,” Ianto observed mildly.
“And neither do you,” Jack threw it right back at him. “What happened… No. It never happened. Not any more. What I remember, that’s just… ghosts and shadows. It’s nothing.”
“It’s hurting you.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t have to hurt you too.”
Ianto smiled lopsidedly. “Too late for that.”
Jack became aware of how tightly woven their hands were, how crushing his grip. He looked horrified, let go immediately. “I’m sorry…”
Ianto grabbed him again before he could pull away. “Not that, you daft bugger.” He ducked his head to kiss lightly again. Kept looking down as his tongue licked out to wet his lips nervously. “You hurt, I hurt. That’s what happens when…” He looked up, eyes as uncertain as they were loving.
Jack moved forward and answered that with kisses, a gentle press of lips, quiet communication until uncertainty was chased away. Then he leaned their foreheads together, breathed a moment, pressed their laced hands over his own heart. Came to a decision.
He pulled Ianto off the desk and into his lap. He came willingly enough, but with a little sigh and raise of eyebrow that said he thought the topic had been changed. But once Jack got him settled there, he just held him. Leaned into him, pressed his face into his neck, until Ianto slid his arms around Jack and held him there a while.
Then, quietly, Jack began to speak.
“The first time the… he killed me, we were trying to save the world. I kind of never minded that one. Good guys, bad guy, shooting, it happens. But the other times… That was personal.”
Ianto held onto him all night, and, very carefully, listened.
Fic: Need
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: sweet and innocent... sorta
Spoilers: refers to the end of Doctor Who season 3
Word Count: 1181
Summary: Sometimes you can't just ignore the dark.
Author's Notes: Little angsty snuggly thing that sprang from someone else's image - Jack, after the Valiant, was always rubbing his wrists.
Beta by
pinkdormouseJack ran one thumb under the wristband on his watch, then sighed and adjusted it again. Third time today. Tighter this time. The well-worn slot he’d kept it on for years just wasn’t right any more, though damned if he could figure if it needed more or less play. Finished with that, he ran his other hand over the gap where his Vortex Manipulator strapped on. That he hadn’t any doubt about; tighter was better. He’d only eased it off when he realised it was leaving marks. Still felt a little rough around the edges. He kept catching himself with fingers looped around the front edge, rubbing at it.
A fresh cup of coffee appeared on Jack’s desk, just past the mess of paperwork, at the edge of his vision. A hand reached for the old cup, which was playing paperweight on a stack of files Jack didn’t want to forget, then hesitated as dark liquid sloshed around inside.
Jack blinked and tried a vague half grin. “Here, let me just…” He grabbed the cup, and raised it quickly to knock back what was left.
“Don’t…” Ianto said, too late.
Jack grimaced and thought to spit it back, but year long habit overruled him and he’d already gulped the stone cold stuff. “Gah! How long was that…” He trailed off. Put it back down with a frown creasing his face.
“Sorry,” Ianto said, taking the empty from him again. He pushed the fresh cup forward.
Jack shook his head. “I just lost track. Lots to catch up on.” He nodded vaguely at the file pile. The frown stayed in place as he noted how very little had moved as far as the out tray since he’d sat down.
“Yes,” Ianto agreed, “Owen’s expense claims alone are a masterpiece.” The line lacked the usual sarcastic sting, and Jack looked up to see a faint frown reflected there. Ianto watched him with eyes full of questions and concern.
Jack looked away and grabbed the coffee, sipping carefully.
“It’s alright?” Ianto asked him, after a pause.
Jack looked up and flashed a distracted smile. “Yeah, great. Yours is always the best.”
“Yet this isn’t the first full cup I’ve found around here lately.”
Jack ignored the worry in the tone and answered full of contrition. “I know, I’m sorry, I should clean up after myself more.” A more winning grin didn’t make much headway. Ianto still watched him, avoiding questions so loudly even Owen could have heard it. Jack looked away and shrugged. “I guess enforced caffeine withdrawal takes a little while to get over. I won’t be back on the rocket fuel for a while yet.”
“I figured that out after the incident with Owen. Much as we enjoyed seeing him with egg on his face, we’d rather you weren’t that jumpy at breakfast, even after an all nighter.”
Jack’s grin was just a little weak this time. The egg had been funny; the punching was not.
Jack put the coffee down again, and picked up the nearest bit of paper.
Ianto watched him for a moment, then dropped his head and sighed. He picked up the empty cup, turned, and stepped away.
Jack relaxed back in his seat and tried to focus on the page.
Then Ianto straightened up and came back. He pushed some folders out of the way and sat on the corner of the desk. “Jack.”
Jack sighed, looked up, and affected a slight puzzlement. “Ianto?”
Ianto looked him squarely in the eye. “What do you need?”
Jack raised an eyebrow, then tried for his best leer. Became aware it came out kind of half strength. Dropped the paper anyway, and ran his hand up Ianto’s thigh instead. “What did you have in mind?”
Ianto smiled, and caught hold of him before he reached the really interesting places. “Not what you want,” he said, then raised hand to lips and pressed a soft kiss there. “Though that’s always welcome.” He kept hold of Jack, ran his thumb over his palm. “I need you to tell me – what do you need?” He left a pause for Jack to answer, then continued, soft but insistent. “We know we shouldn’t walk up behind you. We know you sit in here for hours. You rub at your wrists all the time.”
“I don’t…”
Ianto held his hand up for evidence, tapped on his watch band. It was noticeably pinching into his flesh. Jack subsided, and sighed.
“Please, Jack, tell me.” Ianto leaned in closer now, almost whispering. “What do you need?”
Jack closed his eyes, let his head sag to his chest, and grabbed Ianto’s hand real tight. He said into the darkness, tiredly, “Damned if I know.”
When he looked up at his lover Jack’s eyes were two worlds of dark and pain.
Ianto’s eyes stayed as soft as his voice. “Okay.” He shifted closer. “So… let someone else figure it out. Tell me.”
Jack looked away.
“Whatever it is… Whatever happened to you… I think with all we’ve been through I can understand.” Ianto paused, offered an alternative with some reluctance. “Or we can find someone who can. Gwen? Owen?” Jack laughed bitterly at that. Ianto went further afield. “Someone from UNIT, maybe, or… Martha.”
“No,” Jack snapped. “Hell no. She’s got her own year, and her family’s, she doesn’t need my… issues.”
“Neither do you,” Ianto observed mildly.
“And neither do you,” Jack threw it right back at him. “What happened… No. It never happened. Not any more. What I remember, that’s just… ghosts and shadows. It’s nothing.”
“It’s hurting you.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t have to hurt you too.”
Ianto smiled lopsidedly. “Too late for that.”
Jack became aware of how tightly woven their hands were, how crushing his grip. He looked horrified, let go immediately. “I’m sorry…”
Ianto grabbed him again before he could pull away. “Not that, you daft bugger.” He ducked his head to kiss lightly again. Kept looking down as his tongue licked out to wet his lips nervously. “You hurt, I hurt. That’s what happens when…” He looked up, eyes as uncertain as they were loving.
Jack moved forward and answered that with kisses, a gentle press of lips, quiet communication until uncertainty was chased away. Then he leaned their foreheads together, breathed a moment, pressed their laced hands over his own heart. Came to a decision.
He pulled Ianto off the desk and into his lap. He came willingly enough, but with a little sigh and raise of eyebrow that said he thought the topic had been changed. But once Jack got him settled there, he just held him. Leaned into him, pressed his face into his neck, until Ianto slid his arms around Jack and held him there a while.
Then, quietly, Jack began to speak.
“The first time the… he killed me, we were trying to save the world. I kind of never minded that one. Good guys, bad guy, shooting, it happens. But the other times… That was personal.”
Ianto held onto him all night, and, very carefully, listened.
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