My room versus your room
Ttile: My Room Versus Your Room
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones
Pairings: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Word count: 827
Spoilers: Yes
Disclaimer: Neither the song, nor Torchwood and certainly not the characters used belong to me. (They belong to people who didn't know how to use them). Torchwood belongs to BBC Wales & Russell T. Davies.
My Room Versus Your Room
The first time Ianto went down into what Jack wanted to name as his room was after their lovely camping trip. He was bruised, he was aching and couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Jack; he was too angry at himself.
Jack was coming behind him watchful and ready to catch the younger man in case he lost his balance, which Ianto of course didn’t!
“Why am I here?”
“You’re a smart man Ianto. You can figure it out.” Ianto would have raised an eyebrow but it hurt too bloody much so he refrained from the action.
“Humour me.”
“Owen said you cannot be alone. Someone has to check up on you every a couple of hours or so.”
“And why can’t we do that in my place… which is considerable cosier than this. And why should you be the one…’ he stopped trying to find the right verb. ‘Shall we say ‘taking care’ of me?”
“Is there anyone else?”
‘Sure. I’ve got a family you know.’ In the meantime he had sat down on Jack’s bed.
“Really? Do tell!”
“I will most definitely not!”
“Spoil sport. A pretty sister? A hot brother?” Jack squatted right in front of Ianto taking in the bruised face and tired figure. The young man’s eyes were closed so he was surprised when Jack leaned in.
“Hey Ianto!’ Jack was so close that his breath caressed Ianto’s cheek, causing the injured man to move backwards.
“Shower?”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re got one.” Ianto said. And then thought about it a bit better. “Don’t you? Fifty first century people do need showers don’t they?”
“Yes, we do.” Jack answered truthfully. “Come with me, you need to take these clothes off you and then go to bed.”
“Is that a proposition Sir?”
“It would have been if you hadn’t gotten yourself beaten to a pulp.”
By the time he had his shower, after bodily pushing Jack out, putting on something warm and soft and walking back to Jack’s ‘room’ he was so tired that he didn’t notice anything in there other than the bed, which was more comfortable than he had original thought.
And when Jack lay down next to him, he didn’t particularly care about anything else. It was warmth and that was enough.
*
The first time Jack saw Ianto’s room was after he returned back from the nineteen forties. Up until that moment he wasn’t sure what to except.
This time Ianto was the one who was angry and was scowling at him sitting in the sofa. That is he was doing that until he walked into his bedroom and locked the door behind him.
“You know the front door, Jack.” He called from there and Jack knew he was not to expect comfort. Not that night.
“Ianto, I need to talk to you.” He said outside the locked door.
“Well your need will have to wait until I feel like I want to talk to you.”
“You don’t know me, Ianto… you don’t know why I am the way I am.”
“And at the moment I don’t particularly care, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t know why you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry. I am tired and I don’t want you here. You never came here before. What changed now?”
Ianto unlocked and Jack went inside. Ianto was dressed in black bottom pyjamas and a black shirt. In the front a blond woman was lying face down on top of red sheets and in three dimensional letters the word PULP. Jack raised his eyebrow.
“Lisa loved them.” Ianto said. “This was her gift for my nineteenth birthday.” Jack had never asked how many years Ianto knew Lisa. Ianto wasn’t very fond of asking him about his time during War World II.
“Can I stay with you?” Jack asked and Ianto wanting to refuse. Remembering that night after the cannibals, Ianto knew he couldn’t afford to be angry. It wouldn’t take them anywhere.
“…to sleep.” Jack added hastily. Ianto bit his tongue to not remind him that he didn’t sleep.
“Okay.”
“Thanks.”
The room was dark and when Jack felt Ianto’s breathing even he opened his eyes.
Ianto’s room was filled with books, dvds and cds, and not particularly organised. At least Jack didn’t know Ianto’s method of organizing them. It was definitely different that the one he used in the Torchwood’s archives.
Jack couldn’t see the colour on the walls behind the selves. Ianto moved in his sleep coming closer to Jack who sneaked his arm under the sleeping form of his lover and pulled him close. He knew Ianto had woken by that. But feeling the younger man settle by his side he didn’t care.
He closed his eyes. Ianto was warm and alive. Ianto had not kicked him out. Jack knew what that meant but he was selfish enough to savour the feeling.
Ianto knew him and still had kept him close.
Closing his eyes, Jack slept.
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones
Pairings: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Word count: 827
Spoilers: Yes
Disclaimer: Neither the song, nor Torchwood and certainly not the characters used belong to me. (They belong to people who didn't know how to use them). Torchwood belongs to BBC Wales & Russell T. Davies.
My Room Versus Your Room
The first time Ianto went down into what Jack wanted to name as his room was after their lovely camping trip. He was bruised, he was aching and couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Jack; he was too angry at himself.
Jack was coming behind him watchful and ready to catch the younger man in case he lost his balance, which Ianto of course didn’t!
“Why am I here?”
“You’re a smart man Ianto. You can figure it out.” Ianto would have raised an eyebrow but it hurt too bloody much so he refrained from the action.
“Humour me.”
“Owen said you cannot be alone. Someone has to check up on you every a couple of hours or so.”
“And why can’t we do that in my place… which is considerable cosier than this. And why should you be the one…’ he stopped trying to find the right verb. ‘Shall we say ‘taking care’ of me?”
“Is there anyone else?”
‘Sure. I’ve got a family you know.’ In the meantime he had sat down on Jack’s bed.
“Really? Do tell!”
“I will most definitely not!”
“Spoil sport. A pretty sister? A hot brother?” Jack squatted right in front of Ianto taking in the bruised face and tired figure. The young man’s eyes were closed so he was surprised when Jack leaned in.
“Hey Ianto!’ Jack was so close that his breath caressed Ianto’s cheek, causing the injured man to move backwards.
“Shower?”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re got one.” Ianto said. And then thought about it a bit better. “Don’t you? Fifty first century people do need showers don’t they?”
“Yes, we do.” Jack answered truthfully. “Come with me, you need to take these clothes off you and then go to bed.”
“Is that a proposition Sir?”
“It would have been if you hadn’t gotten yourself beaten to a pulp.”
By the time he had his shower, after bodily pushing Jack out, putting on something warm and soft and walking back to Jack’s ‘room’ he was so tired that he didn’t notice anything in there other than the bed, which was more comfortable than he had original thought.
And when Jack lay down next to him, he didn’t particularly care about anything else. It was warmth and that was enough.
*
The first time Jack saw Ianto’s room was after he returned back from the nineteen forties. Up until that moment he wasn’t sure what to except.
This time Ianto was the one who was angry and was scowling at him sitting in the sofa. That is he was doing that until he walked into his bedroom and locked the door behind him.
“You know the front door, Jack.” He called from there and Jack knew he was not to expect comfort. Not that night.
“Ianto, I need to talk to you.” He said outside the locked door.
“Well your need will have to wait until I feel like I want to talk to you.”
“You don’t know me, Ianto… you don’t know why I am the way I am.”
“And at the moment I don’t particularly care, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t know why you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry. I am tired and I don’t want you here. You never came here before. What changed now?”
Ianto unlocked and Jack went inside. Ianto was dressed in black bottom pyjamas and a black shirt. In the front a blond woman was lying face down on top of red sheets and in three dimensional letters the word PULP. Jack raised his eyebrow.
“Lisa loved them.” Ianto said. “This was her gift for my nineteenth birthday.” Jack had never asked how many years Ianto knew Lisa. Ianto wasn’t very fond of asking him about his time during War World II.
“Can I stay with you?” Jack asked and Ianto wanting to refuse. Remembering that night after the cannibals, Ianto knew he couldn’t afford to be angry. It wouldn’t take them anywhere.
“…to sleep.” Jack added hastily. Ianto bit his tongue to not remind him that he didn’t sleep.
“Okay.”
“Thanks.”
The room was dark and when Jack felt Ianto’s breathing even he opened his eyes.
Ianto’s room was filled with books, dvds and cds, and not particularly organised. At least Jack didn’t know Ianto’s method of organizing them. It was definitely different that the one he used in the Torchwood’s archives.
Jack couldn’t see the colour on the walls behind the selves. Ianto moved in his sleep coming closer to Jack who sneaked his arm under the sleeping form of his lover and pulled him close. He knew Ianto had woken by that. But feeling the younger man settle by his side he didn’t care.
He closed his eyes. Ianto was warm and alive. Ianto had not kicked him out. Jack knew what that meant but he was selfish enough to savour the feeling.
Ianto knew him and still had kept him close.
Closing his eyes, Jack slept.