Feels Like Writing
Title: Feels Like Writing
Author: Timelordshines
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones
Rating: PG-13
Words: 744
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Characters belong to RTD and the BBC - I’m just borrowing them.
Written for love_bingo prompt "Language of Love"
Ianto opened his eyes slowly, luxuriating in the unusual feeling of being fully rested for a change.
Jack sensed the movement beside him and put his book down, “Morning gorgeous” he smiled, leaning down to kiss Ianto’s sleep warm shoulder.
“Hmm, morning” Ianto mumbled, turning his head to allow Jack to place a tender good morning kiss on his lips. “What time is it?”
“About nine thirty,” Jack answered. “Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“Good. You looked so peaceful asleep.” Jack ran his fingers through Ianto’s tousled hair, “I was going to make coffee, but then I thought better of it. I squeezed some orange juice though, if you want some?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Ianto struggled to sit up enough to take and drink the proffered glass, handing it back when he had finished and struggling to stifle a large yawn.
“Why don’t you snuggle back down and get some more rest? I’ve already had a text from Tosh. Everything’s ok at the hub so we can enjoy our day off in peace.”
Ianto just glared at his partner.
“What?”
“You realise you’ve jinxed it now.”
Jack raised a hand to his mouth in mock horror. “Oops?” he offered.
Ianto couldn’t help his smile.
“Well then, I guess we’d better make the most of our quiet Sunday lie in before all hell breaks loose”, Jack continued. “Come on, lay down. Let me give you a back rub.”
“Hmm, sounds good.” Ianto plumped his pillows then lay down on his stomach, his hands folded under his pillow and his head turned to the side, facing his lover.
Jack adjusted the covers so that that they fell over the gentle rise of his partner’s perfect arse exposing his back. He then retrieved the massage oil from the bedside table and got comfortable, pouring some oil into the palm of his hand to warm.
When the oil had warmed, he drizzled it in zigzag patterns across the Welshman’s back and then proceeded to rub it in gently but firmly, causing Ianto to moan in pleasure. Jack’s hands worked their way across the supple flesh, kneading and working out knots and stresses and strains. Ianto could feel himself relaxing as Jack’s large and confident hands worked their magic. Jack worked his way up Ianto’s back, rubbing small, deep circles with his thumbs on either side of the young man’s spine, his hands branching out when he got to the top to massage his shoulders, finger tips digging in then pulling back to work out the tension. ”Mmm ‘s good,” Ianto moaned sleepily. Jack chuckled quietly and moved his hands lower to work at the muscles covering his partner’s shoulder blades. When he was satisfied that there were no more knots there he moved on, remembering to keep his touch firm as he moved over Ianto’s sides, so as to soothe not tickle. When he was again satisfied that he had worked out all the tension from those areas Jack moved on, bringing his hands together to rub the small of Ianto’s back.
Jack looked down into Ianto’s face. His eyes were closed and there was a half-smile playing about his lips. He looked totally relaxed. Jack smiled too and kissed Ianto’s forehead. “Mmm,” Ianto said, without opening his eyes, his breathing remained deep and relaxed, right on the edge of sleep. Jack returned his attention to the young man’s back, lightening his touch and tracing random patterns knowing that the gentle tickling would soon send Ianto to sleep. After a little while, Jack’s movements became less random, his fingers remembering words and symbols long since forgotten. An ancient ceremony from his homeland.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“What are you doing?” Ianto asked sleepily
“Nothing.”
“Tickles.”
“Sorry”, Jack didn’t stop.
“Feels like writing… can’t make out the words.” Ianto mumbled, on the edge of sleep.
Jack knew he should deny it, but in that moment he realised he wanted Ianto to know, he wanted to share something of his past, of himself. “They’re words to an ancient ritual from long ago and far into the future.” He spoke softly, “It was part of a wedding night ritual where I grew up. It’s a declaration of passion and commitment, which is traced into the skin of the one you love.” Jack took his time finishing his text and punctuated it with a soft kiss to the button nose of the now sleeping man, before settling down to sleep with him in his arms.
Author: Timelordshines
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones
Rating: PG-13
Words: 744
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Characters belong to RTD and the BBC - I’m just borrowing them.
Written for love_bingo prompt "Language of Love"
Ianto opened his eyes slowly, luxuriating in the unusual feeling of being fully rested for a change.
Jack sensed the movement beside him and put his book down, “Morning gorgeous” he smiled, leaning down to kiss Ianto’s sleep warm shoulder.
“Hmm, morning” Ianto mumbled, turning his head to allow Jack to place a tender good morning kiss on his lips. “What time is it?”
“About nine thirty,” Jack answered. “Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“Good. You looked so peaceful asleep.” Jack ran his fingers through Ianto’s tousled hair, “I was going to make coffee, but then I thought better of it. I squeezed some orange juice though, if you want some?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Ianto struggled to sit up enough to take and drink the proffered glass, handing it back when he had finished and struggling to stifle a large yawn.
“Why don’t you snuggle back down and get some more rest? I’ve already had a text from Tosh. Everything’s ok at the hub so we can enjoy our day off in peace.”
Ianto just glared at his partner.
“What?”
“You realise you’ve jinxed it now.”
Jack raised a hand to his mouth in mock horror. “Oops?” he offered.
Ianto couldn’t help his smile.
“Well then, I guess we’d better make the most of our quiet Sunday lie in before all hell breaks loose”, Jack continued. “Come on, lay down. Let me give you a back rub.”
“Hmm, sounds good.” Ianto plumped his pillows then lay down on his stomach, his hands folded under his pillow and his head turned to the side, facing his lover.
Jack adjusted the covers so that that they fell over the gentle rise of his partner’s perfect arse exposing his back. He then retrieved the massage oil from the bedside table and got comfortable, pouring some oil into the palm of his hand to warm.
When the oil had warmed, he drizzled it in zigzag patterns across the Welshman’s back and then proceeded to rub it in gently but firmly, causing Ianto to moan in pleasure. Jack’s hands worked their way across the supple flesh, kneading and working out knots and stresses and strains. Ianto could feel himself relaxing as Jack’s large and confident hands worked their magic. Jack worked his way up Ianto’s back, rubbing small, deep circles with his thumbs on either side of the young man’s spine, his hands branching out when he got to the top to massage his shoulders, finger tips digging in then pulling back to work out the tension. ”Mmm ‘s good,” Ianto moaned sleepily. Jack chuckled quietly and moved his hands lower to work at the muscles covering his partner’s shoulder blades. When he was satisfied that there were no more knots there he moved on, remembering to keep his touch firm as he moved over Ianto’s sides, so as to soothe not tickle. When he was again satisfied that he had worked out all the tension from those areas Jack moved on, bringing his hands together to rub the small of Ianto’s back.
Jack looked down into Ianto’s face. His eyes were closed and there was a half-smile playing about his lips. He looked totally relaxed. Jack smiled too and kissed Ianto’s forehead. “Mmm,” Ianto said, without opening his eyes, his breathing remained deep and relaxed, right on the edge of sleep. Jack returned his attention to the young man’s back, lightening his touch and tracing random patterns knowing that the gentle tickling would soon send Ianto to sleep. After a little while, Jack’s movements became less random, his fingers remembering words and symbols long since forgotten. An ancient ceremony from his homeland.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“What are you doing?” Ianto asked sleepily
“Nothing.”
“Tickles.”
“Sorry”, Jack didn’t stop.
“Feels like writing… can’t make out the words.” Ianto mumbled, on the edge of sleep.
Jack knew he should deny it, but in that moment he realised he wanted Ianto to know, he wanted to share something of his past, of himself. “They’re words to an ancient ritual from long ago and far into the future.” He spoke softly, “It was part of a wedding night ritual where I grew up. It’s a declaration of passion and commitment, which is traced into the skin of the one you love.” Jack took his time finishing his text and punctuated it with a soft kiss to the button nose of the now sleeping man, before settling down to sleep with him in his arms.