Torchwood -- Haunted
Title: Haunted
Date Written: 12/7/07
dwtwprompts prompt: Ex-Lover
Rating: T
Word Count: 352
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Lisa (mentioned), Rose/Doctor/Jack (implied)
Spoilers: For Season 1, most notably Cyberwoman, and new Season 1 of Doctor Who
Warnings: Boys kissing
Author's Notes: This pairing has the opportunity for so much angst... Inspired by the below quote.
"As Freud said, our beds are crowded. Whenever I lie in bed with Lucas, you're there, as are the ghosts of his past loves."
--Dorthy; The Golden Girls
There are nights, when they share a bed, that Jack wakes Ianto up talking in his sleep. More of a mumble, really, but loud enough.
There are the bad dreams, memories of past battles that loom up in the world of dreams to torment him further ("Last man standing! For God's sake..."). When he gets those, Ianto gently shakes him awake and holds him as Jack shakes and sweats and clings to him, begging, pleading for Ianto to make him feel alive again.
There are the funny ones, where Jack relives past sexual encounters. At first, Ianto had been jealous of these phantom men and women who had a piece of His Captain. Then he actually listened to what the other man was mumbling ("But Executioner, I can't kiss you right with the hood on..."). Those nights he let Jack sleep, sometimes stroking his hair, or a bare arm while the Captain mumbled. He learned just a little bit more about the man and when Jack woke in the morning Ianto got a passionate kiss and usually ended up being a bit late for work.
Then there were Ianto's bad nights, when Jack would wake him up murmuring two names. Rose. Doctor. Said with such longing, such raw need that it made Ianto want to break something; the jealousy was completely uncalled for, completely unwanted, but there, lingering, festering. Those nights he usually made a pot of tea and sat up in the den until Jack slipped into another sleep cycle and didn't talk anymore.
Ianto had his own nights, though, when he'd wake up gasping for air, his face wet and Lisa's name on his lips. When Jack was there he was always turned to his side, asleep-but-not-really, letting Ianto have his moment of private grief before he rolled over and kissed his tears away.
They were both haunted; but they had each other to hide in for a while.
Date Written: 12/7/07
dwtwprompts prompt: Ex-Lover
Rating: T
Word Count: 352
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Lisa (mentioned), Rose/Doctor/Jack (implied)
Spoilers: For Season 1, most notably Cyberwoman, and new Season 1 of Doctor Who
Warnings: Boys kissing
Author's Notes: This pairing has the opportunity for so much angst... Inspired by the below quote.
"As Freud said, our beds are crowded. Whenever I lie in bed with Lucas, you're there, as are the ghosts of his past loves."
--Dorthy; The Golden Girls
There are nights, when they share a bed, that Jack wakes Ianto up talking in his sleep. More of a mumble, really, but loud enough.
There are the bad dreams, memories of past battles that loom up in the world of dreams to torment him further ("Last man standing! For God's sake..."). When he gets those, Ianto gently shakes him awake and holds him as Jack shakes and sweats and clings to him, begging, pleading for Ianto to make him feel alive again.
There are the funny ones, where Jack relives past sexual encounters. At first, Ianto had been jealous of these phantom men and women who had a piece of His Captain. Then he actually listened to what the other man was mumbling ("But Executioner, I can't kiss you right with the hood on..."). Those nights he let Jack sleep, sometimes stroking his hair, or a bare arm while the Captain mumbled. He learned just a little bit more about the man and when Jack woke in the morning Ianto got a passionate kiss and usually ended up being a bit late for work.
Then there were Ianto's bad nights, when Jack would wake him up murmuring two names. Rose. Doctor. Said with such longing, such raw need that it made Ianto want to break something; the jealousy was completely uncalled for, completely unwanted, but there, lingering, festering. Those nights he usually made a pot of tea and sat up in the den until Jack slipped into another sleep cycle and didn't talk anymore.
Ianto had his own nights, though, when he'd wake up gasping for air, his face wet and Lisa's name on his lips. When Jack was there he was always turned to his side, asleep-but-not-really, letting Ianto have his moment of private grief before he rolled over and kissed his tears away.
They were both haunted; but they had each other to hide in for a while.