FIC: A (Partial) Night in the Death
Title: A (Partial) Night in the Death (Red Is My Colour for Prompt 28)
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Owen, Gwen, Tosh
Words: 1,300
Setting: season two, post-Day in the Death
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Drinking and sexing at Owen's quasi-wake. But not by him.
Prompt: I used to think I was scared of death. Or by facing death - by combat and action and the uncertainty of the battlefield. Not any more. No, now what scares me is the possibility that I live to grow old. I might wake up one day tired and wasted and unable to even open a beer. I might need crutches and a hearing aid and help getting dressed. When and if I get to that point, it'll be my memories that'll keep me going. The fact that I've lived through so much, survived so much, to get there. Do you want to get old? Do you want to end up with only your memories to make up for the loss of your faculties?
Jack Harkness
in The Deviant Strain
Justin Richards
A/N: I seem to have an inordinate fondness for alcohol and show tunes. I do not want to know what this says about me.
Ianto leaned back in his chair, arm snaking around to grab another beer, before pausing, and raising a brow in Owen's direction. Owen shook his head and waved his hand, granting permission. Ianto popped off the top on Owen's table and took a long pull. It was his third, and he was finally starting to feel just slightly mellow.
Gwen blinked at him from the settee. She was beyond mellow. She had eschewed the beer route and had polished off a bottle of wine instead. Good wine. Owen was emptying his coffers, and he had spared no expense. It must have been his high-class seduction wine, because Ianto had seen what else passed for his wine cellar and a penny whore would have turned her nose up at the other bottles he had to offer.
Next to Gwen, Tosh suddenly stretched, and then curled up deeper into the back cushions of the settee, using Gwen's lap as a pillow. Alcohol. The universal glue that holds strange friendships together. Ianto frowned. Except now he and Owen couldn't count on it anymore.
There was a muffled knock at the door, and then Jack blew in without waiting for a by-your-leave. "Hey, gang!"
Gwen winced, and shot him a reproachful look. "Tosh nap."
"My apologies to the fair Toshiko. Though I don't think she noticed."
Tosh opened one eye at him, then closed it again. Jack looked at Ianto and Owen. “So . . . what are we doing?”
“Deathday party. Few days late.” Ianto answered, then flinched. As if the Tintin comments weren’t bad enough, he’d gone and outed himself as a Harry Potter fan.
Owen gave him an odd look, and then shrugged his shoulders. “The rest of them are divesting me of my fine wines and spirits,” he answered Jack.
Jack surveyed the cheap wine that was still leftover, and opted for a glass of water instead.
“Water. Way to mix it up, Harkness,” Owen muttered as Jack came back from the kitchen and looked for a place to sit.
“Are you calling me predictable?”
Owen closed his eyes. “Right now, you’ve sat down next to Ianto and your hand is on his knee, and you’re already thinking of a good excuse to get him into my bedroom where you can ravage him to your heart’s content.”
Owen opened his eyes in time to see Jack give Ianto’s knee an exaggerated squeeze. “Does that mean we have your permission to use your bedroom later?” Jack asked with a barely controlled leer.
“I think I get a say in this,” Ianto declared, “and I really want to try the billiards table.”
Owen rolled his eyes as Jack burst out laughing. “I could kick you both out right now.”
“Oh, come on, Owen! We’d let you watch,” Jack wheedled.
“I don’t want Owen watching me fuck you,” Ianto interrupted.
“Okay we wouldn’t. But we’d let you keep the table, as a souvenir.”
Tosh sat up suddenly. “Are we going shopping?”
“Yes, Tosh, for tchotchkes. You want a red dragon keychain or a sheep hat?” Jack answered smoothly.
Tosh blinked at him. “I want a Barbie doll. Flight attendant Barbie.”
She stretched back out and went back to sleep on Gwen’s lap. Gwen was half-asleep, head nodding and tunelessly humming “Some Enchanted Evening.”
Owen turned to Jack and Ianto. “What do you suppose Tosh wants with the Barbie doll?”
Ianto snorted. “Nothing that you’re thinking of.”
Owen managed to look half-way offended. “I am not the kinky bastard that wants to fuck my boss across the billiard table.”
Jack eyed him over his glass of water. “And why is that? All these years, you’ve never made a pass at me.”
“Believe it or not, Harkness, you are not the be all and end all of sexual experiences.”
Jack turned to Ianto. “Is that true?”
Ianto shook his head. “Best I’ve ever had.” He drained his beer and reached back around for another, not asking for permission this time.
Jack beamed. “See there!”
Owen snorted. “Yeah, the word of the man who’s hoping to get laid later tonight is not especially convincing.”
“You’re just jealous,” Jack teased him, and then wished for the words back. “I’m - ”
“Sorry, Jack Harkness, is one thing you are not.” Owen stood up and stretched. Ianto sipped his beer and eyed him watchfully, while Jack just looked tired.
“Don’t look like that, you two. I am trying to embrace the pros of this situation. One, I will never lose my good looks.” Jack began to smile.
“Two,” Owen continued as he crossed to the wardrobe in the front hall, retrieving Gwen’s and Tosh’s coats, “I will always be universally loved, because I can always be counted on to be the designated driver.”
“Three, I have many years of deplorable acts crowding my memories to keep me warm on a night like tonight.” He walked over to the settee and gently shook Tosh awake. “Tosh, love, there’s a Barbie at your flat waiting for you.”
Tosh looked up sleepily and didn’t complain as Owen helped her into her coat. Gwen managed to put her own coat on, backwards, but no one would notice at this hour. Owen picked up his car keys and offered an arm to either woman.
“Back in a bit. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Owen fixed both Jack and Ianto with a stern stare. Jack answered with a mock salute. Ianto downed the rest of his beer. Owen rolled his eyes.
“Just don’t burn the place down before I get back, then.” He steered Gwen and Tosh towards the door, Gwen having moved on to “I’m in Love with a Wonderful Guy,” and closed the door behind them.
Jack turned to Ianto. “So . . .”
***
One hour later . . .
“Jack?”
“Yes!” Jack gasped.
“Will you promise me (pant) you won’t bring me back?”
With a mighty effort, Jack focused on what Ianto was saying. “There are no more gloves.”
Ianto paused over him, still half inside, but not doing anything. Jack’s fingers grasped for purchase on his arms. “Please, please don’t stop.”
Ianto took up his rhythm again, and Jack let out a strangled gulp.
“I don’t just mean with a glove. When I go, you’ll let me go, right? I don’t want to be the walking dead.”
Jack gave him an exasperated look. “Couldn’t you have chosen another time to bring this up - fuck!” He lost his train of thought for a good minute as his mind blanked out with the force of his orgasm. When he could focus his eyesight again, he could see Ianto above him, the moonlight shining in from the large windows, flooding him in white. He looked disturbingly like a ghost.
Jack hesitated. “I’ll try. I’ll try my hardest to accede to your wishes.”
Ianto nodded slowly, and bent farther down over him, moving back into shadow. Now he looked like Jack’s Ianto, living and whole, and Jack forced himself up on his elbows to kiss him hungrily. The change in position startled Ianto, and he came with a muffled curse. Jack smiled into his kiss, and barely gave him enough time to flop back onto his back before draping himself over him in his version of a full body hug.
Ianto patted his back bemusedly. “I’m not going anytime soon, you know.”
“Yeah.” Jack held him closer.
Ianto kissed his forehead, and spoke again. “I’m glad you convinced me to go for the bed.”
“Yes, these sheets are surprisingly comfortable.”
“Purple satin; I wouldn’t have put them together with Owen.”
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Owen, Gwen, Tosh
Words: 1,300
Setting: season two, post-Day in the Death
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Drinking and sexing at Owen's quasi-wake. But not by him.
Prompt: I used to think I was scared of death. Or by facing death - by combat and action and the uncertainty of the battlefield. Not any more. No, now what scares me is the possibility that I live to grow old. I might wake up one day tired and wasted and unable to even open a beer. I might need crutches and a hearing aid and help getting dressed. When and if I get to that point, it'll be my memories that'll keep me going. The fact that I've lived through so much, survived so much, to get there. Do you want to get old? Do you want to end up with only your memories to make up for the loss of your faculties?
Jack Harkness
in The Deviant Strain
Justin Richards
A/N: I seem to have an inordinate fondness for alcohol and show tunes. I do not want to know what this says about me.
Ianto leaned back in his chair, arm snaking around to grab another beer, before pausing, and raising a brow in Owen's direction. Owen shook his head and waved his hand, granting permission. Ianto popped off the top on Owen's table and took a long pull. It was his third, and he was finally starting to feel just slightly mellow.
Gwen blinked at him from the settee. She was beyond mellow. She had eschewed the beer route and had polished off a bottle of wine instead. Good wine. Owen was emptying his coffers, and he had spared no expense. It must have been his high-class seduction wine, because Ianto had seen what else passed for his wine cellar and a penny whore would have turned her nose up at the other bottles he had to offer.
Next to Gwen, Tosh suddenly stretched, and then curled up deeper into the back cushions of the settee, using Gwen's lap as a pillow. Alcohol. The universal glue that holds strange friendships together. Ianto frowned. Except now he and Owen couldn't count on it anymore.
There was a muffled knock at the door, and then Jack blew in without waiting for a by-your-leave. "Hey, gang!"
Gwen winced, and shot him a reproachful look. "Tosh nap."
"My apologies to the fair Toshiko. Though I don't think she noticed."
Tosh opened one eye at him, then closed it again. Jack looked at Ianto and Owen. “So . . . what are we doing?”
“Deathday party. Few days late.” Ianto answered, then flinched. As if the Tintin comments weren’t bad enough, he’d gone and outed himself as a Harry Potter fan.
Owen gave him an odd look, and then shrugged his shoulders. “The rest of them are divesting me of my fine wines and spirits,” he answered Jack.
Jack surveyed the cheap wine that was still leftover, and opted for a glass of water instead.
“Water. Way to mix it up, Harkness,” Owen muttered as Jack came back from the kitchen and looked for a place to sit.
“Are you calling me predictable?”
Owen closed his eyes. “Right now, you’ve sat down next to Ianto and your hand is on his knee, and you’re already thinking of a good excuse to get him into my bedroom where you can ravage him to your heart’s content.”
Owen opened his eyes in time to see Jack give Ianto’s knee an exaggerated squeeze. “Does that mean we have your permission to use your bedroom later?” Jack asked with a barely controlled leer.
“I think I get a say in this,” Ianto declared, “and I really want to try the billiards table.”
Owen rolled his eyes as Jack burst out laughing. “I could kick you both out right now.”
“Oh, come on, Owen! We’d let you watch,” Jack wheedled.
“I don’t want Owen watching me fuck you,” Ianto interrupted.
“Okay we wouldn’t. But we’d let you keep the table, as a souvenir.”
Tosh sat up suddenly. “Are we going shopping?”
“Yes, Tosh, for tchotchkes. You want a red dragon keychain or a sheep hat?” Jack answered smoothly.
Tosh blinked at him. “I want a Barbie doll. Flight attendant Barbie.”
She stretched back out and went back to sleep on Gwen’s lap. Gwen was half-asleep, head nodding and tunelessly humming “Some Enchanted Evening.”
Owen turned to Jack and Ianto. “What do you suppose Tosh wants with the Barbie doll?”
Ianto snorted. “Nothing that you’re thinking of.”
Owen managed to look half-way offended. “I am not the kinky bastard that wants to fuck my boss across the billiard table.”
Jack eyed him over his glass of water. “And why is that? All these years, you’ve never made a pass at me.”
“Believe it or not, Harkness, you are not the be all and end all of sexual experiences.”
Jack turned to Ianto. “Is that true?”
Ianto shook his head. “Best I’ve ever had.” He drained his beer and reached back around for another, not asking for permission this time.
Jack beamed. “See there!”
Owen snorted. “Yeah, the word of the man who’s hoping to get laid later tonight is not especially convincing.”
“You’re just jealous,” Jack teased him, and then wished for the words back. “I’m - ”
“Sorry, Jack Harkness, is one thing you are not.” Owen stood up and stretched. Ianto sipped his beer and eyed him watchfully, while Jack just looked tired.
“Don’t look like that, you two. I am trying to embrace the pros of this situation. One, I will never lose my good looks.” Jack began to smile.
“Two,” Owen continued as he crossed to the wardrobe in the front hall, retrieving Gwen’s and Tosh’s coats, “I will always be universally loved, because I can always be counted on to be the designated driver.”
“Three, I have many years of deplorable acts crowding my memories to keep me warm on a night like tonight.” He walked over to the settee and gently shook Tosh awake. “Tosh, love, there’s a Barbie at your flat waiting for you.”
Tosh looked up sleepily and didn’t complain as Owen helped her into her coat. Gwen managed to put her own coat on, backwards, but no one would notice at this hour. Owen picked up his car keys and offered an arm to either woman.
“Back in a bit. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Owen fixed both Jack and Ianto with a stern stare. Jack answered with a mock salute. Ianto downed the rest of his beer. Owen rolled his eyes.
“Just don’t burn the place down before I get back, then.” He steered Gwen and Tosh towards the door, Gwen having moved on to “I’m in Love with a Wonderful Guy,” and closed the door behind them.
Jack turned to Ianto. “So . . .”
***
One hour later . . .
“Jack?”
“Yes!” Jack gasped.
“Will you promise me (pant) you won’t bring me back?”
With a mighty effort, Jack focused on what Ianto was saying. “There are no more gloves.”
Ianto paused over him, still half inside, but not doing anything. Jack’s fingers grasped for purchase on his arms. “Please, please don’t stop.”
Ianto took up his rhythm again, and Jack let out a strangled gulp.
“I don’t just mean with a glove. When I go, you’ll let me go, right? I don’t want to be the walking dead.”
Jack gave him an exasperated look. “Couldn’t you have chosen another time to bring this up - fuck!” He lost his train of thought for a good minute as his mind blanked out with the force of his orgasm. When he could focus his eyesight again, he could see Ianto above him, the moonlight shining in from the large windows, flooding him in white. He looked disturbingly like a ghost.
Jack hesitated. “I’ll try. I’ll try my hardest to accede to your wishes.”
Ianto nodded slowly, and bent farther down over him, moving back into shadow. Now he looked like Jack’s Ianto, living and whole, and Jack forced himself up on his elbows to kiss him hungrily. The change in position startled Ianto, and he came with a muffled curse. Jack smiled into his kiss, and barely gave him enough time to flop back onto his back before draping himself over him in his version of a full body hug.
Ianto patted his back bemusedly. “I’m not going anytime soon, you know.”
“Yeah.” Jack held him closer.
Ianto kissed his forehead, and spoke again. “I’m glad you convinced me to go for the bed.”
“Yes, these sheets are surprisingly comfortable.”
“Purple satin; I wouldn’t have put them together with Owen.”