Soup
Title: Soup
Pairing: Jack and Ianto
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack attempts to be a domestic goddess.
Author's Notes: Very fluffy fluff, written to save my soul after being very evil to the boys elsewhere.
Disclaimer: Torchwood owned by the BBC, not me.
Jack was unexpectedly cheerful as he bustled around the little kitchen area.
He grinned to himself. A silly little childish grin of happiness. He might even start humming.
He tried. No, he couldn’t pull off humming.
He continued to bimble happily around the kitchen for twenty minutes longer than it would have taken anyone else.
When he was finally done he placed a cup of tea on a tray next to a bowl of soup and some buttered bread, lovingly cut up into wonky soldiers. He didn’t even seem to notice the trail of devastation that traced his path around the little kitchen.
Turning his back on the wrecked kitchenette he headed towards his office. He placed the tray down on the floor next to the little hatch and climbed down the ladder. Stopping on the bottom rung he turned and reached his hands up, carefully lifting the tray and lowering it into his little room.
He turned then and walked towards the figure in the bed, offering the tray out in front of him.
Ianto stirred, his red, watery eyes blinking. His cold ravished nose was as red as his eyes, and his hair was all mussed up from sleeping. Jack started to beam again. Poorly Ianto was just too cute for words.
“Jack,” Ianto said in horror when he saw the tray, “What hab you done’d?”
Oh, even his angry voice was cuter with a cold.
“I made you sweet tea and soup. Because you’re not well. That’s what people do when someone’s not well isn’t it. Isn’t it?”
Ianto saw the happiness in Jack’s eyes turn to doubt and uncertainty. Ianto wanted to tell Jack off for fussing. He wanted to enquire as to how badly his little kitchen had been broken by Jack’s attempt at domesticity. He wanted to say he’d still rather have a coffee. But this clearly meant a lot to Jack. He bit his tongue.
He gave Jack the illest and most wan looking smile he could manage. “Yes Jack. Fank you.” If this made Jack happy he’d play along.
The grin returned to Jack’s face, and sitting on the bed he placed the tray on Ianto’s lap.
Ianto remained silent and tried not to roll his eyes as Jack started to spoon soup into his mouth.