Double Drabble: Hot And Humid
Title: Hot And Humid
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 820: Close at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto and Jack are trekking through an alien jungle on a mission.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble. Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse.
Ianto wiped sweat from his face with his sleeve and sank down onto a convenient tree root. The air was humid, sweltering, hot and close, making him feel like he was melting, or maybe dissolving. Either way, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked, concerned.
“I’m Welsh, Jack. I’m not designed for these conditions. It’s alright for you, growing up on a desert planet. You’re used to the heat!”
“Not like this I’m not. On the Boeshane Peninsula it was dry heat. The humidity makes me feel like I could wring myself out.”
Ianto closed his eyes, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, purposely not looking Jack’s way. Jack’s hair was doing that humidity frizz thing again, every strand standing on end, and Jack got a bit touchy about it when people laughed. To be honest, Ianto envied him a bit. His own close-cropped hair was plastered to his scalp, holding the heat in, while Jack’s was letting the air through to cool his head.
“How much further?” Opening his canteen, Ianto drank a mouthful of lukewarm water.
“Almost there. Can’t be more than a mile or two.”
Ianto stood. “Right, then. Best foot forward.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 820: Close at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto and Jack are trekking through an alien jungle on a mission.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble. Set in my Ghost of a Chance ‘Verse.
Ianto wiped sweat from his face with his sleeve and sank down onto a convenient tree root. The air was humid, sweltering, hot and close, making him feel like he was melting, or maybe dissolving. Either way, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked, concerned.
“I’m Welsh, Jack. I’m not designed for these conditions. It’s alright for you, growing up on a desert planet. You’re used to the heat!”
“Not like this I’m not. On the Boeshane Peninsula it was dry heat. The humidity makes me feel like I could wring myself out.”
Ianto closed his eyes, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, purposely not looking Jack’s way. Jack’s hair was doing that humidity frizz thing again, every strand standing on end, and Jack got a bit touchy about it when people laughed. To be honest, Ianto envied him a bit. His own close-cropped hair was plastered to his scalp, holding the heat in, while Jack’s was letting the air through to cool his head.
“How much further?” Opening his canteen, Ianto drank a mouthful of lukewarm water.
“Almost there. Can’t be more than a mile or two.”
Ianto stood. “Right, then. Best foot forward.”
The End