Red Is My Colour Prompt for Day Three
Title: Suzanne Pleshette Doesn’t Sleep Here
Author: blue_fjords
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, slight Tosh/Owen, Gwen
Setting: during night that happened twice (the second time) post- Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Disclaimer: I don’t own them
Rating: Pg-13 ish (though some swearing, nakedness, drunkenness, singing and m/m sexin’ of the fade to black variety)
Summary: Team Fic! Everyone gets to have a good time on Torchwood’s dime.
A/N: Figured this prompt would be high on the angst, so went in a slightly different direction
Prompt:
"How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!"
- William Shakespeare,
Sonnet 97
Tosh’s muscles felt like water. She smiled drowsily, and cracked an eye. She could just make out Gwen through the haze of steam. Gwen caught her eye, and returned her grin with one that could only be described as stoned.
Tosh snorted, and closed her eyes again. Her masseuse, a strapping blonde man at least twice her height with a Nordic-sounding name, started in on her leg muscles.
“Oi! Tosh, darling genius, you need to try this - are you naked?” Owen stumbled over towards her table, bottle of half-drunk champagne in hand.
“I am getting a full-body massage, Owen, what do you think?”
Gwen looked over from her table. “Is that champagne? And is it for sharing?”
Owen peered over at her. “Gwen! Are you naked, too? Somewhere in my youth, or childhood, I must have done something good. . .” Owen sung tunelessly, shuffling over to Gwen’s table and flopping on the floor.
Tosh had to stop herself from sitting up in surprise. “Did you just sing? Did you just sing a Julie Andrews song from The Sound of Music?” Her voice rose higher with each word. Gwen started giggling and couldn’t stop.
“I plead champagne, and a bullet wound, and my own special cocktail of pain meds. Oi, Lars or Gustav or whatever your name is, you want some champagne?” Owen held the bottle out to Tosh’s masseuse and waved it tantalizingly.
The masseuse shook his head with a slight smile.
“No? What about you, uh, Vlad or Dimitri?” Owen turned towards the giggling Gwen’s masseuse, who just glowered at him.
“Well then, ladies, I think you are obligated to help me out. And I say, cold champagne is best consumed in hot tubs. While naked.” Owen looked hopefully at his two female co-workers. Gwen was still giggling. Tosh eyed him consideringly.
“Where’d you get the champagne?” she asked, buying time to make up her mind.
“Tea Boy,” he answered succinctly.
“That’s right! We’re missing two, because Jack’s back!” Gwen announced triumphantly, and promptly started to giggle again. “What do you suppose they’re doing right now?”
“Jack will be groveling at Tea Boy’s feet, begging to be let back into his bed, and Tea Boy will cave and let him in because he’s fucking in love with him and Jack’s the best shag he’s ever had.”
Tosh frowned at him. “Do you really think Ianto’s in love with Jack?”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Look, Tosh, I know you and Tea Boy have a special geek bond, and he’s got some Welsh pride thing with Gwen -“ this in Gwen’s direction, as her giggles finally started to subside “-but he’s a bloke, and I’m a bloke, and I can tell. Jack’s got him, body and soul, and he may not like it and he may not even like Jack very much right now, but he sure as fuck is totally in love with him. And as to what they are doing right now? They’ve got their own bottle of champagne. They’re probably fucking like bunnies.”
“Crude and to the point as usual, Owen,” Tosh tried to keep the edge of disapproval out of her voice.
Owen gazed at her knowingly. “Sorry, Tosh.”
He took a swig from the bottle, not breaking eye contact.
Gwen clambered off her table rather abruptly. “Gentlemen masseuses,” she paused, “Is that the correct term? Masseumium? Masseuseses? Massui? Anyway, gentlemen, I believe we are done with massages for the night, thank you so much for everything, you ever see anything weird prowling the saunas of Cardiff, give us a call - I don’t mean weird like a pervert, I mean weird like scales - oh you dropped this towel, there you are Lars-Gustav - thanks again, tootles!” She closed the door behind them.
Tosh clutched her towel to her chest and stared at Gwen like she had three heads. Owen took another swig from his bottle of champagne. Gwen looked back over at them.
“What? I didn’t want the strange men to join us in the hot tub.”
She dropped her towel and stepped into the closest hot tub, settling down with a pleased “Ahhh!”
Tosh risked a glance at Owen. For once he wasn’t staring at Gwen, or where she had just been. He was looking back at Tosh.
“It’s difficult for me to take off this shirt, what with my terrible wound.”
Tosh nodded, knotted her towel securely, and helped him out of his shirt. Biting her lip, she bravely doffed her towel and skipped into the hot tub with Gwen in less than five seconds. She could hear Owen’s chuckle behind her and the sound of the rest of his clothes hitting the floor.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” he chuckled, easing himself down into the tub. “I’m sure this comes as no surprise when I say that you are fulfilling one of my favorite fantasies?”
Gwen snorted. “Pass the champagne.”
Owen slid onto the bench between them and put an arm around each of their shoulders. Gwen looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, then took a long swallow of the champagne. Wordlessly, she passed it across Owen to Tosh. Tosh downed half of what was remaining in the bottle.
“There you go, Tosh!” Owen grinned at her. “That’s the expensive stuff, that is!”
Tosh smiled back at him. She was really starting to feel good. The hot water, the cleansing steam, the hour-long massage, the champagne, and the company of two people she had grown to trust and love, all combined to give her a heady buzz. Being naked helped.
“Champagne requires a toast,” Gwen said as Tosh passed the bottle back to her. “To Captain Jack, for coming back, to Ianto, for arranging for this night of hedonism, and to us, for taking full advantage.”
“Hear, hear!” Owen chimed in, pulling the girls closer to him. Tosh smiled again as she leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could…” she hummed quietly as Gwen began to giggle again and Owen kissed her forehead.
Meanwhile, in Ianto’s hotel room, the celebration was decidedly a non-starter. Ianto stood at his window and regarded the view over the Bay. Basically, it was a lot of darkness. How fitting. Ianto glanced at his breakfast table. He had a bottle of very expensive champagne chilling in an ice bucket. He had sent another one to Owen’s room, figuring he would want to share with Gwen and Tosh.
Ianto pulled his stopwatch out of his pocket and looked at the time. 02:00. He snorted. Well, that answered that question. Jack must not be overly anxious for that date. Sighing, Ianto kicked off his shoes and socks, loosened his tie, hung his jacket up in the closet, and stretched out on the bed.
He had not been planning to sleep in this bed alone.
Out in the hall, Jack continued to pace. He had been pacing outside Ianto’s door for almost two hours, ever since they checked in. He had ordered up five rooms for his team, not wanting to seem like he was presuming Ianto would want to pick up where they had left off. Now he found himself in a rather unique predicament for Jack Harkness.
For starters, he had been celibate for a year. One. Whole. Year. It had been over 365 days since he had last been fucked against the filing cabinets in the Archives, over twelve months since Ianto had tangled his hair in his fingers while - Jack had to stop the thought cold. It was Not Helping.
Secondly, and Jack snorted to himself as he inwardly ranked this as second to a year without sex, he had seen the end of the world. He had felt despair on a level that would have killed most men. He had, in fact, been killed. Repeatedly. A shiver went down his back.
But worst of all, he had been lonely. He had been a Captain without a team. He was not meant to be without a team. He didn’t have the right constitution for it. Now all he wanted to do was re-connect with them, and he hadn’t the foggiest idea how. He usually relied on his charm, but Tosh and Owen, Gwen and Ianto knew him too well for that to work. He would have to be sincere.
Taking a deep breath, and a firm grip of his (figurative) balls, Jack knocked on Ianto’s door. Nothing. Jack knocked again. He hadn’t seen Ianto leave all night. Finally, there was the sound of bolts slipping back and the lock turning.
A little old lady cracked the door and peered up at him. Jack stared back at her with shock. There was a long pause.
“Young man. Is there an emergency?”
Jack opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“Oh dear, are you sick in the head? Do you need me to call your minder?”
Jack finally found his voice. “No, sorry, ma’am, I thought this was someone else’s room, I’m sorry to have disturbed you…”
“Well, you should be! It’s after two in the morning, did you know that?”
Jack essayed her with the full Harkness grin. “I do, and I am sorry. You see, I thought this was my boyfriend’s room,” he said it without even thinking, “and I am very late to join him. My apologies.”
The door across the hall opened, and Jack could tell without turning that Ianto stood there.
“Jack.”
Jack turned to face him. Ianto looked rumpled and sleepy and young and Jack wanted nothing more than to touch him absolutely everywhere.
“Ianto. May I come in? Please?”
Ianto nodded slowly and held the door open for him. Jack grinned back at the little old lady and gave her a half bow before striding across the threshold into Ianto’s bedroom. Ianto murmured something to her before closing the door behind them.
He reached out to slide Jack’s coat from his shoulders and hung it up in the closet with his own suit jacket. That accomplished, they both stood there, silently assessing the other.
Ianto broke the quiet first. “Champagne? It’s supposed to be very good.”
“Yeah, I could handle a little champagne.” Jack smiled hopefully at Ianto.
Ianto had to look away, and focused on getting the stopper out of the champagne bottle. He poured it into two little plastic cups provided at the bathroom sink.
“Cheers, Ianto.”
Ianto downed his in one go and poured himself another. “Where were you?”
Jack grimaced. “An endless winter, bereft of light or warmth. I can’t tell you exactly what happened, time would implode, but I missed you. Thoughts of you kept me going. I want to be around you.”
Jack paused for breath. Ianto looked rather nonplussed. Perhaps that was too much sincerity?
“I just meant, what took you two hours to get to my room?”
Jack gave a startled chuckle. “Oh. That. I was pacing,” he confessed.
“Pacing.”
“I wasn’t sure you would let me in, and I really wanted you to. And I had no idea how to apologize, and I just . . . I really want to hold you, and I really, really want to have sex with you, and I didn’t want you to think that that’s all I was coming here for . . . because it’s not! -“
Ianto shut him up by kissing him roughly, sliding his tongue between Jack’s lips and walking him backwards towards the bed. Jack was moaning into his mouth and pulling at his clothes. Ianto could hear the buttons from his shirt hit the wall and Jack’s braces, belt and pants hit the floor. Jack’s shirts followed so closely that all Ianto saw was a blue blur before Jack was attacking his pants, sliding one hand inside while the other pulled down pants and boxers and dumped them over the side of the bed.
“Fuck, Jack, been awhile for you?” Ianto gasped for breath.
“A year. A year without this -“ Jack kissed him again, hungry and desperate. Ianto’s eyes widened. It had been a year? That explained some things.
It was his last coherent thought for the next hour.
The bedside clock turned to 03:17 as Jack felt Ianto smile sleepily into his neck. Jack pulled him even closer, and kissed his hair, his pink-tinged ears, his little button nose, his already kiss-swollen lips.
“You feel better, Jack?” Ianto asked dreamily.
Jack grinned. It was his well-satiated grin, and it felt so good to grin it again. “Yeah. Just as long as you’re still you when I wake up in the morning, and not Suzanne Pleshette.”
Ianto looked at him as seriously as he could manage with his eyes at half-mast. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
He closed his eyes and burrowed deeper into the blankets and closer to Jack. “Winter over,” he mumbled, falling asleep.
Jack sighed, stroking Ianto’s back. Yes. Winter was indeed over.
Author: blue_fjords
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, slight Tosh/Owen, Gwen
Setting: during night that happened twice (the second time) post- Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Disclaimer: I don’t own them
Rating: Pg-13 ish (though some swearing, nakedness, drunkenness, singing and m/m sexin’ of the fade to black variety)
Summary: Team Fic! Everyone gets to have a good time on Torchwood’s dime.
A/N: Figured this prompt would be high on the angst, so went in a slightly different direction
Prompt:
"How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!"
- William Shakespeare,
Sonnet 97
Tosh’s muscles felt like water. She smiled drowsily, and cracked an eye. She could just make out Gwen through the haze of steam. Gwen caught her eye, and returned her grin with one that could only be described as stoned.
Tosh snorted, and closed her eyes again. Her masseuse, a strapping blonde man at least twice her height with a Nordic-sounding name, started in on her leg muscles.
“Oi! Tosh, darling genius, you need to try this - are you naked?” Owen stumbled over towards her table, bottle of half-drunk champagne in hand.
“I am getting a full-body massage, Owen, what do you think?”
Gwen looked over from her table. “Is that champagne? And is it for sharing?”
Owen peered over at her. “Gwen! Are you naked, too? Somewhere in my youth, or childhood, I must have done something good. . .” Owen sung tunelessly, shuffling over to Gwen’s table and flopping on the floor.
Tosh had to stop herself from sitting up in surprise. “Did you just sing? Did you just sing a Julie Andrews song from The Sound of Music?” Her voice rose higher with each word. Gwen started giggling and couldn’t stop.
“I plead champagne, and a bullet wound, and my own special cocktail of pain meds. Oi, Lars or Gustav or whatever your name is, you want some champagne?” Owen held the bottle out to Tosh’s masseuse and waved it tantalizingly.
The masseuse shook his head with a slight smile.
“No? What about you, uh, Vlad or Dimitri?” Owen turned towards the giggling Gwen’s masseuse, who just glowered at him.
“Well then, ladies, I think you are obligated to help me out. And I say, cold champagne is best consumed in hot tubs. While naked.” Owen looked hopefully at his two female co-workers. Gwen was still giggling. Tosh eyed him consideringly.
“Where’d you get the champagne?” she asked, buying time to make up her mind.
“Tea Boy,” he answered succinctly.
“That’s right! We’re missing two, because Jack’s back!” Gwen announced triumphantly, and promptly started to giggle again. “What do you suppose they’re doing right now?”
“Jack will be groveling at Tea Boy’s feet, begging to be let back into his bed, and Tea Boy will cave and let him in because he’s fucking in love with him and Jack’s the best shag he’s ever had.”
Tosh frowned at him. “Do you really think Ianto’s in love with Jack?”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Look, Tosh, I know you and Tea Boy have a special geek bond, and he’s got some Welsh pride thing with Gwen -“ this in Gwen’s direction, as her giggles finally started to subside “-but he’s a bloke, and I’m a bloke, and I can tell. Jack’s got him, body and soul, and he may not like it and he may not even like Jack very much right now, but he sure as fuck is totally in love with him. And as to what they are doing right now? They’ve got their own bottle of champagne. They’re probably fucking like bunnies.”
“Crude and to the point as usual, Owen,” Tosh tried to keep the edge of disapproval out of her voice.
Owen gazed at her knowingly. “Sorry, Tosh.”
He took a swig from the bottle, not breaking eye contact.
Gwen clambered off her table rather abruptly. “Gentlemen masseuses,” she paused, “Is that the correct term? Masseumium? Masseuseses? Massui? Anyway, gentlemen, I believe we are done with massages for the night, thank you so much for everything, you ever see anything weird prowling the saunas of Cardiff, give us a call - I don’t mean weird like a pervert, I mean weird like scales - oh you dropped this towel, there you are Lars-Gustav - thanks again, tootles!” She closed the door behind them.
Tosh clutched her towel to her chest and stared at Gwen like she had three heads. Owen took another swig from his bottle of champagne. Gwen looked back over at them.
“What? I didn’t want the strange men to join us in the hot tub.”
She dropped her towel and stepped into the closest hot tub, settling down with a pleased “Ahhh!”
Tosh risked a glance at Owen. For once he wasn’t staring at Gwen, or where she had just been. He was looking back at Tosh.
“It’s difficult for me to take off this shirt, what with my terrible wound.”
Tosh nodded, knotted her towel securely, and helped him out of his shirt. Biting her lip, she bravely doffed her towel and skipped into the hot tub with Gwen in less than five seconds. She could hear Owen’s chuckle behind her and the sound of the rest of his clothes hitting the floor.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” he chuckled, easing himself down into the tub. “I’m sure this comes as no surprise when I say that you are fulfilling one of my favorite fantasies?”
Gwen snorted. “Pass the champagne.”
Owen slid onto the bench between them and put an arm around each of their shoulders. Gwen looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, then took a long swallow of the champagne. Wordlessly, she passed it across Owen to Tosh. Tosh downed half of what was remaining in the bottle.
“There you go, Tosh!” Owen grinned at her. “That’s the expensive stuff, that is!”
Tosh smiled back at him. She was really starting to feel good. The hot water, the cleansing steam, the hour-long massage, the champagne, and the company of two people she had grown to trust and love, all combined to give her a heady buzz. Being naked helped.
“Champagne requires a toast,” Gwen said as Tosh passed the bottle back to her. “To Captain Jack, for coming back, to Ianto, for arranging for this night of hedonism, and to us, for taking full advantage.”
“Hear, hear!” Owen chimed in, pulling the girls closer to him. Tosh smiled again as she leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could…” she hummed quietly as Gwen began to giggle again and Owen kissed her forehead.
Meanwhile, in Ianto’s hotel room, the celebration was decidedly a non-starter. Ianto stood at his window and regarded the view over the Bay. Basically, it was a lot of darkness. How fitting. Ianto glanced at his breakfast table. He had a bottle of very expensive champagne chilling in an ice bucket. He had sent another one to Owen’s room, figuring he would want to share with Gwen and Tosh.
Ianto pulled his stopwatch out of his pocket and looked at the time. 02:00. He snorted. Well, that answered that question. Jack must not be overly anxious for that date. Sighing, Ianto kicked off his shoes and socks, loosened his tie, hung his jacket up in the closet, and stretched out on the bed.
He had not been planning to sleep in this bed alone.
Out in the hall, Jack continued to pace. He had been pacing outside Ianto’s door for almost two hours, ever since they checked in. He had ordered up five rooms for his team, not wanting to seem like he was presuming Ianto would want to pick up where they had left off. Now he found himself in a rather unique predicament for Jack Harkness.
For starters, he had been celibate for a year. One. Whole. Year. It had been over 365 days since he had last been fucked against the filing cabinets in the Archives, over twelve months since Ianto had tangled his hair in his fingers while - Jack had to stop the thought cold. It was Not Helping.
Secondly, and Jack snorted to himself as he inwardly ranked this as second to a year without sex, he had seen the end of the world. He had felt despair on a level that would have killed most men. He had, in fact, been killed. Repeatedly. A shiver went down his back.
But worst of all, he had been lonely. He had been a Captain without a team. He was not meant to be without a team. He didn’t have the right constitution for it. Now all he wanted to do was re-connect with them, and he hadn’t the foggiest idea how. He usually relied on his charm, but Tosh and Owen, Gwen and Ianto knew him too well for that to work. He would have to be sincere.
Taking a deep breath, and a firm grip of his (figurative) balls, Jack knocked on Ianto’s door. Nothing. Jack knocked again. He hadn’t seen Ianto leave all night. Finally, there was the sound of bolts slipping back and the lock turning.
A little old lady cracked the door and peered up at him. Jack stared back at her with shock. There was a long pause.
“Young man. Is there an emergency?”
Jack opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“Oh dear, are you sick in the head? Do you need me to call your minder?”
Jack finally found his voice. “No, sorry, ma’am, I thought this was someone else’s room, I’m sorry to have disturbed you…”
“Well, you should be! It’s after two in the morning, did you know that?”
Jack essayed her with the full Harkness grin. “I do, and I am sorry. You see, I thought this was my boyfriend’s room,” he said it without even thinking, “and I am very late to join him. My apologies.”
The door across the hall opened, and Jack could tell without turning that Ianto stood there.
“Jack.”
Jack turned to face him. Ianto looked rumpled and sleepy and young and Jack wanted nothing more than to touch him absolutely everywhere.
“Ianto. May I come in? Please?”
Ianto nodded slowly and held the door open for him. Jack grinned back at the little old lady and gave her a half bow before striding across the threshold into Ianto’s bedroom. Ianto murmured something to her before closing the door behind them.
He reached out to slide Jack’s coat from his shoulders and hung it up in the closet with his own suit jacket. That accomplished, they both stood there, silently assessing the other.
Ianto broke the quiet first. “Champagne? It’s supposed to be very good.”
“Yeah, I could handle a little champagne.” Jack smiled hopefully at Ianto.
Ianto had to look away, and focused on getting the stopper out of the champagne bottle. He poured it into two little plastic cups provided at the bathroom sink.
“Cheers, Ianto.”
Ianto downed his in one go and poured himself another. “Where were you?”
Jack grimaced. “An endless winter, bereft of light or warmth. I can’t tell you exactly what happened, time would implode, but I missed you. Thoughts of you kept me going. I want to be around you.”
Jack paused for breath. Ianto looked rather nonplussed. Perhaps that was too much sincerity?
“I just meant, what took you two hours to get to my room?”
Jack gave a startled chuckle. “Oh. That. I was pacing,” he confessed.
“Pacing.”
“I wasn’t sure you would let me in, and I really wanted you to. And I had no idea how to apologize, and I just . . . I really want to hold you, and I really, really want to have sex with you, and I didn’t want you to think that that’s all I was coming here for . . . because it’s not! -“
Ianto shut him up by kissing him roughly, sliding his tongue between Jack’s lips and walking him backwards towards the bed. Jack was moaning into his mouth and pulling at his clothes. Ianto could hear the buttons from his shirt hit the wall and Jack’s braces, belt and pants hit the floor. Jack’s shirts followed so closely that all Ianto saw was a blue blur before Jack was attacking his pants, sliding one hand inside while the other pulled down pants and boxers and dumped them over the side of the bed.
“Fuck, Jack, been awhile for you?” Ianto gasped for breath.
“A year. A year without this -“ Jack kissed him again, hungry and desperate. Ianto’s eyes widened. It had been a year? That explained some things.
It was his last coherent thought for the next hour.
The bedside clock turned to 03:17 as Jack felt Ianto smile sleepily into his neck. Jack pulled him even closer, and kissed his hair, his pink-tinged ears, his little button nose, his already kiss-swollen lips.
“You feel better, Jack?” Ianto asked dreamily.
Jack grinned. It was his well-satiated grin, and it felt so good to grin it again. “Yeah. Just as long as you’re still you when I wake up in the morning, and not Suzanne Pleshette.”
Ianto looked at him as seriously as he could manage with his eyes at half-mast. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
He closed his eyes and burrowed deeper into the blankets and closer to Jack. “Winter over,” he mumbled, falling asleep.
Jack sighed, stroking Ianto’s back. Yes. Winter was indeed over.