(no subject)
I have a bit of a block (again), and my long fics aren't quite working. So I wrote this as a distraction. The title doesn't quite work, but I swear I will never post something as 'untitled', so it will have to do for now.
This is, really, an excercise in Torchwood dynamics. I want to understand these characters better than I do.
Title: Needs and Wants
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Gwen, Jack/Ianto, Jack/Owen, Jack/Tosh
Rating: R, to be safe
Summary: Jack's team don't realise what it costs him to give them what they need.
Length: 377 words
With Gwen, it was soft and gentle, comforting for them both, consoling in the aftermath of losing Rhys. It only happened once, because that was all she needed, and all Jack could spare her. Alone together in her flat, he said nothing, and he kissed her, led her to the bed, and he brought the torn and frayed threads of her world back together again with a single stitch.
With Ianto, it was cathartic sex, sometimes rough and heated, the two of them shouting and snarling. It was Jack’s role to punish and reward, and Ianto’s role to need him. And sometimes it was fun, though still boisterous, with toys or games or kinks of Ianto’s devising. Never Jack’s. And beneath the sex, beneath the subservience and the suit and the ‘yes, sir’, Jack knew he was never quite in control.
Owen was something peculiar, and Jack couldn’t get the hang of him. Perhaps that was why he took every opportunity to screw the man senseless. It was never as rough, never as dangerous as with Ianto, which surprised Jack in itself, but what caught him off-guard were the tender moments, when dawn was the faintest of promises, and Owen chose to sleep with the blankets pulled around him and his arm across Jack’s chest.
And then there was Toshiko, who came to him last of all, quiet and timid and so small in his arms. Jack never took from her, only gave to her, nestled between her thighs or holding her from behind. Kissing her neck, one hand on her breast, the other sliding downwards, helping her forget, for that one moment of bliss, how tiny and brief and alone she really was.
He was careful to give each of them not just the things they thought they wanted - the sex, the intimacy with their captain - but the things he knew they needed. The things no one else in the world could see, or would ever be able to provide. He never, quite, admitted to himself that he cared for them more than they would ever care for him. And he never told them how much it cost him, how much it hurt him, to give them everything he could never have.
This is, really, an excercise in Torchwood dynamics. I want to understand these characters better than I do.
Title: Needs and Wants
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Gwen, Jack/Ianto, Jack/Owen, Jack/Tosh
Rating: R, to be safe
Summary: Jack's team don't realise what it costs him to give them what they need.
Length: 377 words
With Gwen, it was soft and gentle, comforting for them both, consoling in the aftermath of losing Rhys. It only happened once, because that was all she needed, and all Jack could spare her. Alone together in her flat, he said nothing, and he kissed her, led her to the bed, and he brought the torn and frayed threads of her world back together again with a single stitch.
With Ianto, it was cathartic sex, sometimes rough and heated, the two of them shouting and snarling. It was Jack’s role to punish and reward, and Ianto’s role to need him. And sometimes it was fun, though still boisterous, with toys or games or kinks of Ianto’s devising. Never Jack’s. And beneath the sex, beneath the subservience and the suit and the ‘yes, sir’, Jack knew he was never quite in control.
Owen was something peculiar, and Jack couldn’t get the hang of him. Perhaps that was why he took every opportunity to screw the man senseless. It was never as rough, never as dangerous as with Ianto, which surprised Jack in itself, but what caught him off-guard were the tender moments, when dawn was the faintest of promises, and Owen chose to sleep with the blankets pulled around him and his arm across Jack’s chest.
And then there was Toshiko, who came to him last of all, quiet and timid and so small in his arms. Jack never took from her, only gave to her, nestled between her thighs or holding her from behind. Kissing her neck, one hand on her breast, the other sliding downwards, helping her forget, for that one moment of bliss, how tiny and brief and alone she really was.
He was careful to give each of them not just the things they thought they wanted - the sex, the intimacy with their captain - but the things he knew they needed. The things no one else in the world could see, or would ever be able to provide. He never, quite, admitted to himself that he cared for them more than they would ever care for him. And he never told them how much it cost him, how much it hurt him, to give them everything he could never have.