Naughtiness High On The Catalogue Of Grave Sins
Title: Naughtiness High On The Catalogue Of Grave Sins
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: In which Ianto confesses on the matter of a bit of highlighting, and groceries are mentioned again. While I'll admit that this prompt sent me scrambling to the library for a copy of Brideshead Revisited, those unfamiliar should be able to make do with the Wikipedia article and the prompt itself. Written for the July 20 prompt at horizonssing.
But I was in search of love in those days, and I went full of curiosity and the faint, unrecognized apprehension that here, at last, I should find that low door in the wall, which others, I knew, had found before me, which opened on an enclosed and enchanted garden, which was somewhere, not overlooked by any window, in the heart of that grey city.
- Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited
Ianto dropped his shopping on the kitchen counter and proceeded to sort his groceries while Jack waited in the front room. He normally wouldn’t object to a bit of help, but domesticity in conjunction with Jack Harkness tended to be a risky proposition. Better to let him amuse himself for ten minutes while Ianto labored than wind up on the kitchen floor covered in icing sugar while the ice cream went all melty on the counter.
Then again, he thought with a smile, the one time that had happened, the ice cream was put to good use…
He’d nearly finished when Jack stepped into the doorway holding up a battered copy of Brideshead Revisited. “You highlighted Evelyn Waugh?”
“It was a moment of weakness,” Ianto replied and turned his attention back to the peanut butter and the coffee.
“Well, in that case, you have interesting moments of weakness.” Jack peered at the page again. “So do you think Charles and Sebastian ever -“
“Yes,” Ianto answered and quietly took the book out of Jack’s hands and closed it without looking at the pages. He carried it back toward the bookshelf. “Absolutely, and probably more than once.”
Jack followed him, hands in pockets. “Sensitive topic?”
“Private topic.” Ianto slid the book back into place.
“Hmm.”
To Ianto’s quiet dismay, Jack followed him back into the kitchen. He put the peanut butter away, acutely aware of how Jack took it upon himself to fold up the paper bags and tuck them in with the recycling.
“It’s just silly,” Ianto said, and closed the cupboard.
“What is?”
Ianto leaned back against the counter. “Brideshead Revisited. When I moved to London, I think I thought of it in those terms. First real job, new city. All those possibilities. Though Canada Square isn’t exactly the most secret of gardens…”
Jack chuckled quietly.
“When I came back to Wales, I didn’t feel that sense of possibility anymore. It was all so fraught and desperate. But in the end, there I was, hidden in the heart of another grey city.” Ianto paused, glancing down at the lino. “Also, I don’t think I ever quite sorted out whether I’d be Charles or Sebastian. Charles, probably. You’re far more exotic than I am.”
“Well, could be worse,” Jack teased. “You could be Julia.”
“Like hell I am,” Ianto snickered, and threw a tea towel at him.
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: In which Ianto confesses on the matter of a bit of highlighting, and groceries are mentioned again. While I'll admit that this prompt sent me scrambling to the library for a copy of Brideshead Revisited, those unfamiliar should be able to make do with the Wikipedia article and the prompt itself. Written for the July 20 prompt at horizonssing.
But I was in search of love in those days, and I went full of curiosity and the faint, unrecognized apprehension that here, at last, I should find that low door in the wall, which others, I knew, had found before me, which opened on an enclosed and enchanted garden, which was somewhere, not overlooked by any window, in the heart of that grey city.
- Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited
Ianto dropped his shopping on the kitchen counter and proceeded to sort his groceries while Jack waited in the front room. He normally wouldn’t object to a bit of help, but domesticity in conjunction with Jack Harkness tended to be a risky proposition. Better to let him amuse himself for ten minutes while Ianto labored than wind up on the kitchen floor covered in icing sugar while the ice cream went all melty on the counter.
Then again, he thought with a smile, the one time that had happened, the ice cream was put to good use…
He’d nearly finished when Jack stepped into the doorway holding up a battered copy of Brideshead Revisited. “You highlighted Evelyn Waugh?”
“It was a moment of weakness,” Ianto replied and turned his attention back to the peanut butter and the coffee.
“Well, in that case, you have interesting moments of weakness.” Jack peered at the page again. “So do you think Charles and Sebastian ever -“
“Yes,” Ianto answered and quietly took the book out of Jack’s hands and closed it without looking at the pages. He carried it back toward the bookshelf. “Absolutely, and probably more than once.”
Jack followed him, hands in pockets. “Sensitive topic?”
“Private topic.” Ianto slid the book back into place.
“Hmm.”
To Ianto’s quiet dismay, Jack followed him back into the kitchen. He put the peanut butter away, acutely aware of how Jack took it upon himself to fold up the paper bags and tuck them in with the recycling.
“It’s just silly,” Ianto said, and closed the cupboard.
“What is?”
Ianto leaned back against the counter. “Brideshead Revisited. When I moved to London, I think I thought of it in those terms. First real job, new city. All those possibilities. Though Canada Square isn’t exactly the most secret of gardens…”
Jack chuckled quietly.
“When I came back to Wales, I didn’t feel that sense of possibility anymore. It was all so fraught and desperate. But in the end, there I was, hidden in the heart of another grey city.” Ianto paused, glancing down at the lino. “Also, I don’t think I ever quite sorted out whether I’d be Charles or Sebastian. Charles, probably. You’re far more exotic than I am.”
“Well, could be worse,” Jack teased. “You could be Julia.”
“Like hell I am,” Ianto snickered, and threw a tea towel at him.