FIC: Mr. Hearts-and-Flowers
Title: Mr. Hearts-and-Flowers (Red Is My Colour Prompt for Day Twenty)
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Words: 670
Setting: post-series two
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, cameos by Gwen, PC Andy
Summary: Jack comes back to life, cleans up a mess, and then has sex. Warnings for fluff and porn, y'all.
A/N: Okay, this started out fluffy, result of exuberance from having a President I am proud of and this song for a prompt, but then it became porn-y because I’ve had Ani DiFranco’s “Both Hands” stuck in my head for the past three days. It’s also the shortest thing I’ve written. This Author’s Note is almost as long as the fic! (And I've skipped a day again. Am returning to Day Nineteen now, then will be all caught up! Woo hoo!)
Prompt:
Here Comes the Sun
The Beatles
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right
Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right
Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
It's all right
Jack was resting on his favorite bed. When he opened his eyes, he could see the sun, just beginning to peek out of a gray cloud, framed by bare branches. His bed shifted subtly, shielding him from others’ eyes. Sound returned with an overwhelming whoosh. Gwen was speaking to some coppers off to his right. A child was crying nearby, the fury of shrieks dying down to hiccupping sobs. A handful of birds cawed overhead, and sniffing the air, Jack could smell salt water and smoke. Yes. They were close to the Bay. He took a deep breath of the cold air, and felt his bed tighten around him.
He leaned back into Ianto’s chest and focused on Ianto’s jaw line, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose. Ianto wasn’t looking at him; he was scanning the crowd, making sure no one had noticed the corpse suddenly come to life. Or, more accurately, making sure no one had noticed that Jack had even been a corpse in the first place.
“I like coming back with you like this,” Jack murmured into Ianto’s neck, threading his fingers through Ianto’s. “It’s trés romantique.”
Ianto snorted softly. “That’s me, Mr. Hearts-and-Flowers. Are you able to stand yet? Gwen could use a hand.”
Jack smiled. “Yes. But there is one other pressing concern I must take care of first.”
He pulled Ianto’s mouth down to his, lips opening for him, teeth gently nibbling, tongue caressing. Jack kept his eyes wide open, taking in the concentration on Ianto’s face as he kissed Jack with the whole of his being. Not Mr. Hearts-and-Flowers, my ass, Jack thought. He so fucking loves me.
Gwen’s old partner approached and cleared his throat nervously. “Eh, Gwen said to ask one of you to deal with the kid,” Andy jerked his thumb in the direction of the sniffling child. “And, um, could I get a hand with the, well, the . . . remains.”
Jack broke the kiss and hauled himself upright, leaning down to grip Ianto’s forearm and pull him up.
“You want me to take the kid?” he asked Ianto, brushing leaves off his rear.
Ianto shot him a grateful look. “Please.”
For the next few hours, they went into work mode. Jack gave a mild dose of Retcon (and a lollipop he found in his coat pocket) to the child, their only witness. Ianto and Andy bagged up the scattered remains of Jack’s killer. Gwen spun a tale that no one believed, but everyone accepted, to the assembled police force. All in all, just your typical day for Torchwood.
Later that night, Jack found himself once again lying on his favorite bed. Ianto’s arms and legs cradled him, invited him to pull closer. Ianto’s skin was rough with scars and calluses in some places, furry with wiry curls in others, and could never be mistaken for satin sheets, but Jack wanted that skin to cover his own and not let go. Jack trailed his fingers down every centimeter of it, caressing and tickling and claiming. His tongue followed, teasing words of devotion and lust and praise from Ianto. Ianto’s head was thrown back against the pillow, blue eyes darkened with desire as Jack’s fingers moved up to tangle with his own and Jack’s body inexorably joined his. The bed rocked back, and Ianto rocked with it, and Jack rocked with Ianto. And when Ianto came, it was with a growled “Fuck!” But Jack knew it meant “Yes I do fucking love you.” The sound tipped Jack over the edge, and he came inside of Ianto, muttering a curse from his childhood in Boeshane, which he easily interpreted to mean “I fucking love you back.” He pulled out of Ianto, breathing heavily, and rested his head on his favorite furry pillow. He stretched his neck back up to kiss Ianto’s mouth several times before settling back down on Ianto’s chest, Ianto’s arms encircling him and stroking his back. Jack sighed, content, and dozed off dreaming of hearts and flowers.
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Words: 670
Setting: post-series two
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, cameos by Gwen, PC Andy
Summary: Jack comes back to life, cleans up a mess, and then has sex. Warnings for fluff and porn, y'all.
A/N: Okay, this started out fluffy, result of exuberance from having a President I am proud of and this song for a prompt, but then it became porn-y because I’ve had Ani DiFranco’s “Both Hands” stuck in my head for the past three days. It’s also the shortest thing I’ve written. This Author’s Note is almost as long as the fic! (And I've skipped a day again. Am returning to Day Nineteen now, then will be all caught up! Woo hoo!)
Prompt:
Here Comes the Sun
The Beatles
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right
Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right
Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
It's all right
Jack was resting on his favorite bed. When he opened his eyes, he could see the sun, just beginning to peek out of a gray cloud, framed by bare branches. His bed shifted subtly, shielding him from others’ eyes. Sound returned with an overwhelming whoosh. Gwen was speaking to some coppers off to his right. A child was crying nearby, the fury of shrieks dying down to hiccupping sobs. A handful of birds cawed overhead, and sniffing the air, Jack could smell salt water and smoke. Yes. They were close to the Bay. He took a deep breath of the cold air, and felt his bed tighten around him.
He leaned back into Ianto’s chest and focused on Ianto’s jaw line, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose. Ianto wasn’t looking at him; he was scanning the crowd, making sure no one had noticed the corpse suddenly come to life. Or, more accurately, making sure no one had noticed that Jack had even been a corpse in the first place.
“I like coming back with you like this,” Jack murmured into Ianto’s neck, threading his fingers through Ianto’s. “It’s trés romantique.”
Ianto snorted softly. “That’s me, Mr. Hearts-and-Flowers. Are you able to stand yet? Gwen could use a hand.”
Jack smiled. “Yes. But there is one other pressing concern I must take care of first.”
He pulled Ianto’s mouth down to his, lips opening for him, teeth gently nibbling, tongue caressing. Jack kept his eyes wide open, taking in the concentration on Ianto’s face as he kissed Jack with the whole of his being. Not Mr. Hearts-and-Flowers, my ass, Jack thought. He so fucking loves me.
Gwen’s old partner approached and cleared his throat nervously. “Eh, Gwen said to ask one of you to deal with the kid,” Andy jerked his thumb in the direction of the sniffling child. “And, um, could I get a hand with the, well, the . . . remains.”
Jack broke the kiss and hauled himself upright, leaning down to grip Ianto’s forearm and pull him up.
“You want me to take the kid?” he asked Ianto, brushing leaves off his rear.
Ianto shot him a grateful look. “Please.”
For the next few hours, they went into work mode. Jack gave a mild dose of Retcon (and a lollipop he found in his coat pocket) to the child, their only witness. Ianto and Andy bagged up the scattered remains of Jack’s killer. Gwen spun a tale that no one believed, but everyone accepted, to the assembled police force. All in all, just your typical day for Torchwood.
Later that night, Jack found himself once again lying on his favorite bed. Ianto’s arms and legs cradled him, invited him to pull closer. Ianto’s skin was rough with scars and calluses in some places, furry with wiry curls in others, and could never be mistaken for satin sheets, but Jack wanted that skin to cover his own and not let go. Jack trailed his fingers down every centimeter of it, caressing and tickling and claiming. His tongue followed, teasing words of devotion and lust and praise from Ianto. Ianto’s head was thrown back against the pillow, blue eyes darkened with desire as Jack’s fingers moved up to tangle with his own and Jack’s body inexorably joined his. The bed rocked back, and Ianto rocked with it, and Jack rocked with Ianto. And when Ianto came, it was with a growled “Fuck!” But Jack knew it meant “Yes I do fucking love you.” The sound tipped Jack over the edge, and he came inside of Ianto, muttering a curse from his childhood in Boeshane, which he easily interpreted to mean “I fucking love you back.” He pulled out of Ianto, breathing heavily, and rested his head on his favorite furry pillow. He stretched his neck back up to kiss Ianto’s mouth several times before settling back down on Ianto’s chest, Ianto’s arms encircling him and stroking his back. Jack sighed, content, and dozed off dreaming of hearts and flowers.