The Ghost of Christmas past 1/1
TITLE: The Ghost of Christmas past.
RATING: R (language)
SYNOPSIS: Ianto and Jack have dinner one night during a quiet week at work. Conversations lead to Christmas, and a past that Jack never knew that Ianto had.
You can find all my stories here at my index.
This is Part of a series of missing scene fiction
(story 1) Flirtation
(story 2) Craving
(story 3) Cryptic coffee. part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
(story 4) Monster
(story 5) Choices
(story 6) Comfort
(story 7) Industrial Strength
(story 8) Riddler
a/n - okay, so episode is VERY Ianto light, even light on Jack for that matter - so i decided to use the episode to have a christmassy relevant fic (given that the episode must have been close to christmas cos the episode after is in the direct runup to xmas).
Jack leaned against Ianto's kitchen unit and twisted his neck to fully appreciate the view as Ianto rummaged in the bottom of his fridge. He moved towards him slowly and ran his had across his trousers.
“Stop it.” Ianto stood up and Jack wrapped his arms around him, taking the onion out of his hand and putting it on the bench. “Do you have a problem with the English language?”
“No.” He nuzzled his shoulder. “I just misunderstood what I was coming here for.”
“How many things can 'come around for dinner' mean?”
“A few.” Jack said, slowly unfastening the buttons on Ianto's shirt as he spoke. “It could mean lets have sex, or let's go to bed, or come around and throw me around my shower room for a few hours, or--”
“Or let's eat food?” Ianto turned around and moved away from him, fastening his shirt back up. "Because the last time I looked dinner up in the dictionary it didn't say anything about sex."
“No, but you smiled when you said it.”
“So?”
“So that means 'I say food, but I really mean sex.'” Jack followed him around the kitchen. “Now, I have nothing against food, food is essential, but if you want food we could order in.”
“And let me guess, whilst we're waiting we could keep ourselves occupied?”
Jack smiled. “Good guess.”
“And let me guess where you would want to wait.” Ianto pretended to ponder. “The bedroom maybe?”
“You know me too well.”
“Far too well.” He threw Jack an onion, who caught it. “Here, do something to keep your hands busy. Chop me some rings.”
“You just want to see me cry.”
“Jack, if I wanted to see you cry I would kick you in the crotch.” He gave him a knife and a copping board. “If you want to eat. Chop.”
The Captain took the items from Ianto and pushed them aside, then pulled the Welshman towards his body by his wrist. “I don't need to eat.” he said.
“Well I do, and if you want what you obviously came here for I'm going to need to eat first.” He kissed Jack softly and then moved away towards the pan on the cooker and stirred the contents.
“You know that's not all you are to me.” He stood behind him and Ianto continued to cook. “You know that, right?”
“I know that you're a pain in the arse when you're horny.” Ianto shot him a forgiving smile over his shoulder, then turned back to cooking. “I accept it Jack, I don't need to mean anything.”
“But you know that you do though,” he asked, “don't you?”
“I know that I'm hungry and I don't see you chopping an onion.”
Jack moved closer and wrapped his arm around him, pressing his lips to his shoulder. “You're avoiding the issue.”
“And you're avoiding chopping my onion.” Ianto turned his head and wrapped his hand around the back of Jack's neck, letting his fingers run through his hair. He kissed him softly, and Jack pulled him closer, turning him around. The Welshman deepened the kiss and pressed his body against Jack's, marching him across the kitchen; he pinned him against the fridge with his body, pressing his hips into him. Jack pulled him closer, running his hands across his backside. Ianto raked his fingers through the Captain's hair. “I don't want to tie you down, however, if you're good and chop my onion I might just tie you up later."
“You do mean something to me.”
“Peel and chop.” Ianto backed away and walked back to the stove.
Jack sighed and walked back to the bench to complete his task, wiping his red eyes as the juice spat into his face from the vegetable. He looked over at Ianto and then back to the onion. “It's been a quiet week this week. If it weren't for Eugene and the box of fake alien junk and that weevil escape I don't think we would have done anything at all.”
“Thank God, it gave me the change to reorganise the filing system. And I finally got a weekend off for a change.”
“You have a great boss.”
“He's a pain in the arse.” Ianto smiled over his shoulder. “But I like him anyway.”
“You could put your tree up,” Jack said, “this place isn't looking very Christmassy.”
“Christmas isn't for weeks yet.”
“Yeah, but it's nice to decorate. You can get some of that fake snow for your window, and candy canes for your tree, oh and those little dancing Santa things.”
Ianto shook his head. “I'll put my tree up closer to Christmas, but just the tree, no singing Santa's or fake snow,”
“Why?”
Ianto shrugged his shoulders and stood for a moment in silence before he spoke. “I don't like Christmas.”
Jack finished chopping the onion and turned around startled, “you don't like Christmas?”
“Nope.”
“Why?” He walked over to the stove and tipped the onions into the pan.
“I just don't see the point, it's just a day like any other.”
“Bah humbug. You're such a Scrooge.”
“Why is it that the moment that anyone expresses any opinion other than Christmas is good, Christmas is fun or Christmas is a time of goodwill they get accused of being a fictional character from a nineteenth century Charles Dickens novel?” Ianto shook his head. “It's ridiculous.”
“So, what do you do come Christmas day then?” Jack asked. “Sit at home with your lump of coal throwing snowballs at the carollers?”
“No. I take the phone off the hook, put on some DVD's, get a bottle of wine and enjoy my own company.”
“God, you're miserable. Tell me, have you ever had a strange dream with three ghosts and rattling chains?”
Ianto turned around and pointed his spoon at Jack. “Do you want to go home hungry and unsatisfied?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Then leave it alone.”
Ianto turned around and Jack said nothing for a moment. “Why don't I come over.”
“When?”
“Christmas day.”
“What for?” Ianto turned around again, supporting a confused look on his face.
“To celebrate,” Jack said, “I'll bring food, we can watch some of those awful Christmas specials and then retire to bed early and stay there until boxing day.” He walked over to the Welshman who looked more than a little amused and boxed him in against the bench. “If the rift behaves itself and the aliens take a day off it could be fun.”
“Then we could gather around the piano and sing three chorus' of we wish you a merry Christmas in our matching reindeer sweaters whilst Aunt Mildred roasts the chestnuts on an open fire and serves them with eggnog.” He rolled his eyes. “No thanks, I would rather clean out Myfanwy's nest with my tongue.”
“Why not?” Jack moved closer to him and kissed his lips softly. “Is this about Lisa, because if it is--”
“It's not about Lisa. I haven't celebrated Christmas since I was eight years old and I don't intend on starting now.”
“Is your mother a pain in the ass at Christmas too?”
Ianto pushed Jack away gently and turned around. “Actually, my mother died when I was nine.”
“I'm sorry.” Jack put his hand on Ianto's shoulder.
“Don't be, it was a long time ago now. I hardly remember her actually.” Ianto stared down into the pan for a moment, then shook his head clear. “Anyway, I don't really want to talk about her.”
“Why?”
“I was never allowed. My dad's dead against memories; even if you mention her name now it's like you said a bad word. He looks straight through you, but then again he always looks straight through me; sometimes I swear I died in his eyes years ago.”
“I'm sure that's not true.”
“He killed everything that she loved in his mind just so that he didn't have to be reminded of her.” Ianto put his hand over Jack's when he felt it land upon his shoulder, and leaned back a little against the older man's chest. “She adored Christmas, y'know?”
“Yeah?” Jack kissed the Welshman's hand.
“Yeah. I remember she would send dad out for a tree every year; of course he would chose the cheapest one they had even though we had enough money and she always used to complain that it wast big enough, or green enough or smell festive enough. She would make the best Christmas pudding you have ever tasted and buy the biggest turkey; we always ended up eating turkey sandwiches for lunch for about a week after.” He dropped his head and switched off the cooker, moving his hand from Jack's grasp; he grabbed two plates from the bench. “Then she died and Christmas died too.” He dished out the food. “My dad hasn't celebrated anything since; not a birthday, or Christmas, or new year. It wasn't until Lisa persuaded me to put a tree a few years ago that I recognised it at all.”
Jack wrapped his arms around him. “Don't you think she would want you to celebrate it if she loved it so much?”
“Probably,” Ianto let a weak smile cross his lips and leaned back a little. “But I don't think I would even remember how any more.”
“Then celebrate with me. No Christmas cliché's, I promise.”
“No jumpers?” Ianto asked, turning around slowly.
“We don't even have to wear clothes if you don't want to.” Jack smirked. “We can do whatever you want.”
“You don't have to do this,” Ianto said, “you don't have to pretend with me.”
Jack looked confused. “Pretend?”
“Look, my heart isn't going to break if you just want to come over, take me to bed and then leave right after. I can live with just being sex to you. You have nothing to prove to me, so you don't need to make big gestures to prove how much you care; you don't need to pretend to care about me.”
“You are so blind.” Jack kissed him softly, pulling his body closer. “Do you honestly think that I'm the kind of guy that can just fuck around with a member of his staff without thinking first about the consequences? If I wanted someone who I could pick up and have a purely sexual relationship with I sure as hell wouldn't pick you.” Jack pushed Ianto away at arms length. “You're not my fuck buddy, I care about you more than I will ever admit to, but if all I am to you is someone to keep your cock warm in the winter then you should tell me now; you can go and find someone who doesn't give a shit about you.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Well what else am I supposed to think when you tell me you just want me to come over, give you a good seeing to then leave?”
“I didn't say that; I just don't want to get hurt.” Ianto turned around, forcing his back to him. “I've been hurt too much Jack. ”
“I'm not going to hurt you.” Jack removed his arms from either side of the Welshman and let them fall by his side. “Tell me that we're something.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't feel like we're nothing.”
Ianto turned around and put his hands on Jack's face and kissed him softly. “Yes, we're something.” He turned around and picked up the two plates of food. “Now can we eat before I keel over with starvation?”
Jack turned him around and kissed him softly, wrapping his arms around his waist and locking them behind his back. “The food doesn't even come close to being as interesting as this 'something' of which you speak.”
“My food is interesting.” Ianto mocked annoyance. “It has three kids of herbs.”
“I'm sure it is.” Jack kissed his neck. “But we are a much more interesting subject.”
Ianto leaned into him and let his head fall to the side. “Y'know, this food is easily reheatable.”
Jack smiled against his skin as he un-tucked Ianto's shirt from his trousers. “I thought you said you were hungry,” he sad, “starving was the word I believe you used.”
“My hunger seems to be leaving me.” Ianto turned around. “My stomach is no longer a priority.” He kissed Jack's jawline, making a trail to his ear. “There's an area lower down that requires some attention.”
Jack lowered his hands and cupped the Welshman's arse, pulling him towards him; he grinned. “So I see.”
“It's really surprising what happens to your hunger when your blood flow has a sudden change of direction.” He kissed Jack's neck, pulling his t-shirt to the side to show more skin with one hand, whilst the other worked on the buttons on his shirt. “Your mind starts to wander to other things.”
“Other things, huh?”
“Yes,” Ianto smiled, “many other things.”
“Such as?”
Ianto pulled back just a little; his lips left the sweetness of Jack's skin, and his eyes drifted over to the counter behind Jack. He licked his lips just a little, then bit the inside of his cheek and pushed the older man back against it. He smiled. "Other uses for the kitchen."
RATING: R (language)
SYNOPSIS: Ianto and Jack have dinner one night during a quiet week at work. Conversations lead to Christmas, and a past that Jack never knew that Ianto had.
You can find all my stories here at my index.
This is Part of a series of missing scene fiction
(story 1) Flirtation
(story 2) Craving
(story 3) Cryptic coffee. part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
(story 4) Monster
(story 5) Choices
(story 6) Comfort
(story 7) Industrial Strength
(story 8) Riddler
a/n - okay, so episode is VERY Ianto light, even light on Jack for that matter - so i decided to use the episode to have a christmassy relevant fic (given that the episode must have been close to christmas cos the episode after is in the direct runup to xmas).
Jack leaned against Ianto's kitchen unit and twisted his neck to fully appreciate the view as Ianto rummaged in the bottom of his fridge. He moved towards him slowly and ran his had across his trousers.
“Stop it.” Ianto stood up and Jack wrapped his arms around him, taking the onion out of his hand and putting it on the bench. “Do you have a problem with the English language?”
“No.” He nuzzled his shoulder. “I just misunderstood what I was coming here for.”
“How many things can 'come around for dinner' mean?”
“A few.” Jack said, slowly unfastening the buttons on Ianto's shirt as he spoke. “It could mean lets have sex, or let's go to bed, or come around and throw me around my shower room for a few hours, or--”
“Or let's eat food?” Ianto turned around and moved away from him, fastening his shirt back up. "Because the last time I looked dinner up in the dictionary it didn't say anything about sex."
“No, but you smiled when you said it.”
“So?”
“So that means 'I say food, but I really mean sex.'” Jack followed him around the kitchen. “Now, I have nothing against food, food is essential, but if you want food we could order in.”
“And let me guess, whilst we're waiting we could keep ourselves occupied?”
Jack smiled. “Good guess.”
“And let me guess where you would want to wait.” Ianto pretended to ponder. “The bedroom maybe?”
“You know me too well.”
“Far too well.” He threw Jack an onion, who caught it. “Here, do something to keep your hands busy. Chop me some rings.”
“You just want to see me cry.”
“Jack, if I wanted to see you cry I would kick you in the crotch.” He gave him a knife and a copping board. “If you want to eat. Chop.”
The Captain took the items from Ianto and pushed them aside, then pulled the Welshman towards his body by his wrist. “I don't need to eat.” he said.
“Well I do, and if you want what you obviously came here for I'm going to need to eat first.” He kissed Jack softly and then moved away towards the pan on the cooker and stirred the contents.
“You know that's not all you are to me.” He stood behind him and Ianto continued to cook. “You know that, right?”
“I know that you're a pain in the arse when you're horny.” Ianto shot him a forgiving smile over his shoulder, then turned back to cooking. “I accept it Jack, I don't need to mean anything.”
“But you know that you do though,” he asked, “don't you?”
“I know that I'm hungry and I don't see you chopping an onion.”
Jack moved closer and wrapped his arm around him, pressing his lips to his shoulder. “You're avoiding the issue.”
“And you're avoiding chopping my onion.” Ianto turned his head and wrapped his hand around the back of Jack's neck, letting his fingers run through his hair. He kissed him softly, and Jack pulled him closer, turning him around. The Welshman deepened the kiss and pressed his body against Jack's, marching him across the kitchen; he pinned him against the fridge with his body, pressing his hips into him. Jack pulled him closer, running his hands across his backside. Ianto raked his fingers through the Captain's hair. “I don't want to tie you down, however, if you're good and chop my onion I might just tie you up later."
“You do mean something to me.”
“Peel and chop.” Ianto backed away and walked back to the stove.
Jack sighed and walked back to the bench to complete his task, wiping his red eyes as the juice spat into his face from the vegetable. He looked over at Ianto and then back to the onion. “It's been a quiet week this week. If it weren't for Eugene and the box of fake alien junk and that weevil escape I don't think we would have done anything at all.”
“Thank God, it gave me the change to reorganise the filing system. And I finally got a weekend off for a change.”
“You have a great boss.”
“He's a pain in the arse.” Ianto smiled over his shoulder. “But I like him anyway.”
“You could put your tree up,” Jack said, “this place isn't looking very Christmassy.”
“Christmas isn't for weeks yet.”
“Yeah, but it's nice to decorate. You can get some of that fake snow for your window, and candy canes for your tree, oh and those little dancing Santa things.”
Ianto shook his head. “I'll put my tree up closer to Christmas, but just the tree, no singing Santa's or fake snow,”
“Why?”
Ianto shrugged his shoulders and stood for a moment in silence before he spoke. “I don't like Christmas.”
Jack finished chopping the onion and turned around startled, “you don't like Christmas?”
“Nope.”
“Why?” He walked over to the stove and tipped the onions into the pan.
“I just don't see the point, it's just a day like any other.”
“Bah humbug. You're such a Scrooge.”
“Why is it that the moment that anyone expresses any opinion other than Christmas is good, Christmas is fun or Christmas is a time of goodwill they get accused of being a fictional character from a nineteenth century Charles Dickens novel?” Ianto shook his head. “It's ridiculous.”
“So, what do you do come Christmas day then?” Jack asked. “Sit at home with your lump of coal throwing snowballs at the carollers?”
“No. I take the phone off the hook, put on some DVD's, get a bottle of wine and enjoy my own company.”
“God, you're miserable. Tell me, have you ever had a strange dream with three ghosts and rattling chains?”
Ianto turned around and pointed his spoon at Jack. “Do you want to go home hungry and unsatisfied?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Then leave it alone.”
Ianto turned around and Jack said nothing for a moment. “Why don't I come over.”
“When?”
“Christmas day.”
“What for?” Ianto turned around again, supporting a confused look on his face.
“To celebrate,” Jack said, “I'll bring food, we can watch some of those awful Christmas specials and then retire to bed early and stay there until boxing day.” He walked over to the Welshman who looked more than a little amused and boxed him in against the bench. “If the rift behaves itself and the aliens take a day off it could be fun.”
“Then we could gather around the piano and sing three chorus' of we wish you a merry Christmas in our matching reindeer sweaters whilst Aunt Mildred roasts the chestnuts on an open fire and serves them with eggnog.” He rolled his eyes. “No thanks, I would rather clean out Myfanwy's nest with my tongue.”
“Why not?” Jack moved closer to him and kissed his lips softly. “Is this about Lisa, because if it is--”
“It's not about Lisa. I haven't celebrated Christmas since I was eight years old and I don't intend on starting now.”
“Is your mother a pain in the ass at Christmas too?”
Ianto pushed Jack away gently and turned around. “Actually, my mother died when I was nine.”
“I'm sorry.” Jack put his hand on Ianto's shoulder.
“Don't be, it was a long time ago now. I hardly remember her actually.” Ianto stared down into the pan for a moment, then shook his head clear. “Anyway, I don't really want to talk about her.”
“Why?”
“I was never allowed. My dad's dead against memories; even if you mention her name now it's like you said a bad word. He looks straight through you, but then again he always looks straight through me; sometimes I swear I died in his eyes years ago.”
“I'm sure that's not true.”
“He killed everything that she loved in his mind just so that he didn't have to be reminded of her.” Ianto put his hand over Jack's when he felt it land upon his shoulder, and leaned back a little against the older man's chest. “She adored Christmas, y'know?”
“Yeah?” Jack kissed the Welshman's hand.
“Yeah. I remember she would send dad out for a tree every year; of course he would chose the cheapest one they had even though we had enough money and she always used to complain that it wast big enough, or green enough or smell festive enough. She would make the best Christmas pudding you have ever tasted and buy the biggest turkey; we always ended up eating turkey sandwiches for lunch for about a week after.” He dropped his head and switched off the cooker, moving his hand from Jack's grasp; he grabbed two plates from the bench. “Then she died and Christmas died too.” He dished out the food. “My dad hasn't celebrated anything since; not a birthday, or Christmas, or new year. It wasn't until Lisa persuaded me to put a tree a few years ago that I recognised it at all.”
Jack wrapped his arms around him. “Don't you think she would want you to celebrate it if she loved it so much?”
“Probably,” Ianto let a weak smile cross his lips and leaned back a little. “But I don't think I would even remember how any more.”
“Then celebrate with me. No Christmas cliché's, I promise.”
“No jumpers?” Ianto asked, turning around slowly.
“We don't even have to wear clothes if you don't want to.” Jack smirked. “We can do whatever you want.”
“You don't have to do this,” Ianto said, “you don't have to pretend with me.”
Jack looked confused. “Pretend?”
“Look, my heart isn't going to break if you just want to come over, take me to bed and then leave right after. I can live with just being sex to you. You have nothing to prove to me, so you don't need to make big gestures to prove how much you care; you don't need to pretend to care about me.”
“You are so blind.” Jack kissed him softly, pulling his body closer. “Do you honestly think that I'm the kind of guy that can just fuck around with a member of his staff without thinking first about the consequences? If I wanted someone who I could pick up and have a purely sexual relationship with I sure as hell wouldn't pick you.” Jack pushed Ianto away at arms length. “You're not my fuck buddy, I care about you more than I will ever admit to, but if all I am to you is someone to keep your cock warm in the winter then you should tell me now; you can go and find someone who doesn't give a shit about you.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Well what else am I supposed to think when you tell me you just want me to come over, give you a good seeing to then leave?”
“I didn't say that; I just don't want to get hurt.” Ianto turned around, forcing his back to him. “I've been hurt too much Jack. ”
“I'm not going to hurt you.” Jack removed his arms from either side of the Welshman and let them fall by his side. “Tell me that we're something.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't feel like we're nothing.”
Ianto turned around and put his hands on Jack's face and kissed him softly. “Yes, we're something.” He turned around and picked up the two plates of food. “Now can we eat before I keel over with starvation?”
Jack turned him around and kissed him softly, wrapping his arms around his waist and locking them behind his back. “The food doesn't even come close to being as interesting as this 'something' of which you speak.”
“My food is interesting.” Ianto mocked annoyance. “It has three kids of herbs.”
“I'm sure it is.” Jack kissed his neck. “But we are a much more interesting subject.”
Ianto leaned into him and let his head fall to the side. “Y'know, this food is easily reheatable.”
Jack smiled against his skin as he un-tucked Ianto's shirt from his trousers. “I thought you said you were hungry,” he sad, “starving was the word I believe you used.”
“My hunger seems to be leaving me.” Ianto turned around. “My stomach is no longer a priority.” He kissed Jack's jawline, making a trail to his ear. “There's an area lower down that requires some attention.”
Jack lowered his hands and cupped the Welshman's arse, pulling him towards him; he grinned. “So I see.”
“It's really surprising what happens to your hunger when your blood flow has a sudden change of direction.” He kissed Jack's neck, pulling his t-shirt to the side to show more skin with one hand, whilst the other worked on the buttons on his shirt. “Your mind starts to wander to other things.”
“Other things, huh?”
“Yes,” Ianto smiled, “many other things.”
“Such as?”
Ianto pulled back just a little; his lips left the sweetness of Jack's skin, and his eyes drifted over to the counter behind Jack. He licked his lips just a little, then bit the inside of his cheek and pushed the older man back against it. He smiled. "Other uses for the kitchen."