torchwood: full service and amenities
title: full service and amenities
author: phinnia
pairing: jack/ianto
rating: R or thereabouts
disclaimer: a wandering minstrel i, a thing of shreds and patches. i own nothing
author's note: this is the first fic i've written in this fandom with stuff like plot and dialogue in it, so be kind. Set post 2.13 'exit wounds'. Warnings for lack of danger, sex, altoids, bad habits, Ianto being Welsh and Jack being tricky.
Ianto Jones was not generally one for long vacations. Mental health days, fine: at most a weekend away, but Ianto was a firm believer in a good day's work and someone who generally coped best by trying to be as useful and busy as he possibly could.
However, given the current state of things - well, a week off couldn't hurt.
Jack had sent Gwen and Rhys away to the south of France on Torchwood's dime, calling it stored up vacation/merit bonus/whatever and after they'd seen the two of them safely off he just kept driving, and for once in his life Ianto was too exhausted to really argue. He made a few token protests (specifically about clothes, which Jack had insisted they could just buy more of, and the rift activity and general safety of Cardiff, which Jack had countered by pointing out that anything they did would be closing the barn door after everything had well and gotten out.) Then Ianto had taken a couple of painkillers and had drifted into a blessedly dreamless sleep.
When he woke up he realized three things:
They were no longer moving.
They had stopped somewhere near the ocean - he could hear the waves and smell the salt.
Jack wasn't in the car.
He only had a few seconds of panic at that last one, because just as soon as he realized the third the list was amended to include a fourth thing: Jack was on the car, half lying down with his legs stretched across the bonnet. He had taken his shirt off and was using it and his greatcoat as a pillow.
He looked up as soon as Ianto opened the door and his grin was one of those infectious ones. "You're awake."
"You're smoking." Fortunately not like that time Owen had spilled that alien lighter fluid, the more conventional kind of smoking, but it was still a bit of a shock seeing Jack with a cigarette in his hand.
"Old habit." Jack took another drag and blew a column of smoke down at his boots. "I used to smoke only after sex, but that was getting to be a lot, and then I decided to smoke only after dying, but then that was getting to be quite a bit too - more than the sex for an embarassingly long time, to tell you the truth. And then I decided to only smoke after the world ended - whatever world I happened to be on. And okay, fine, the world didn't actually end, but I think it was close enough for a while there and I decided I deserved a fag."
Ianto rocked back on his heels and tried not to laugh.
"Hey, I'm the one that's supposed to make ignorant American language jokes." He tossed the stub in the sand and climbed down, crushing it under his heel as Ianto walked around the car. "One of us has to be classy, and you dress better than I do."
Ianto laughed and grabbed Jack's shoulders to haul him around for a proper kiss, and even though the cigarette taste was pretty disgusting it was still warm and real and astoundingly bright in that way aftermath always was; and when they stopped to breathe Ianto was already panting and half-hard and Jack's eyes were the kind of brilliant that Ianto hadn't seen enough of and hoped he never would.
"You drive." Jack was buttoning his shirt up as he walked around to the passenger side. "There's a hotel just about a mile down that road."
*
"So that'll be one king room with full bath, ocean view, is that right sir?"
"It certainly is, ma'am. For the full week, at least."
"Of course. And do you have any baggage?"
"We're travelling light." Jack winked at her and rather lovingly pinched Ianto's ass. The girl coughed, trying to hide a smile.
"I don't suppose you've got dry cleaning service?" Ianto cleared his throat, again schooling his features into something mostly businesslike. "My ... er, friend's coat could use a cleaning while we're settling in."
"Oh, of course sir. I'll see to it right away."
Jack surrendered the coat with a bemused expression that turned into laughter the moment they were out of sight of the desk clerk.
"What is it?"
"I take you away for a big romantic spontaneous vacation and you worry about laundry. You're just so - Welsh." He couldn't stop laughing, staggering through the room and throwing himself backward on the bed. "I love it. Come and molest me with your mellifluous vowels, you."
"Clean your teeth first."
"What?!"
"You taste like an ashtray! Uh. In a good way, a very sexy ashtray of course. Fifty-first century pheromones and all - but - at least have a mint or something." Ianto rummaged around in his pockets and produced a tin of Altoids. "One of these."
Jack opened his mouth to say something -
And there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it." Ianto murmured, tossing the mint box on the bed. "Who is it?"
"Laundry service, sir."
"Must have been a mix-up." said Jack (around the four or five mints already in his mouth). "We just sent it off."
"I'm afraid it's already downstairs, there must have been some mista-" Ianto opened the door and was immediately confronted with a faceful of blue-grey wool.
Familiar blue-grey wool.
Familiar and clean blue-grey wool.
Startled, he stepped back a bit and glanced at Jack over his shoulder.
Jack shrugged.
The bellboy coughed a little and fidgeted, waiting patently: and then Ianto dug a five pound note out of his other pocket and retrieved the hanging laundry bag from the rack. "Thank you. That was exceptionally good service."
"Thank you, sir." said the bellboy.
And then he left. Ianto closed the door very slowly, and then decided to lock it just for good measure.
"There's something strange about that." Jack murmured (again, around the mints).
"There is." Ianto started unbuttoning his shirt, and then decided to pay some attention to Jack's as well.
"We should probably look at it." Jack decided that Ianto was doing just fine with both the shirts and perhaps he should do something about the pants they were both wearing, and tackled Ianto on the bed for safekeeping afterwards.
"Probably."
"Later?"
"Oh God yes."
Ianto hadn't forgotten about the mints, but he hadn't realized Jack still had them in his mouth until he was in Jack's mouth and then he gasped a great shuddering breath at the sensation - cold and hot and tingling everywhere and Jack was somehow grinning rather smugly while doing this which was erotic as hell but still slightly annoying - that was really Jack all over, he thought.
And then there were hands on his hips, big hands and square nails biting into skin and dragging him forward relentlessly: again and again until he was almost unable to hold himself upright and probably would have collapsed except Jack flipped them over and pinned him on the bed. And at that point their limbs and hands were tangled together, hips arching and still frantically devouring each others' mouths and then his breath caught in the back of his throat again and Jack moaned and there were teeth in his shoulder-
Afterward things were quiet and still for a long time, just resting together as their bodies cooled and stretched and relaxed, hearts slowing to the same rhythm. And at some point Ianto thought to ask Jack something, had even turned to do it as a slumber-heavy arm fell across his hips and hushed him with its weight.
Then he was asleep too.
*
In an interesting accident of timing (should such a thing really exist, of course: Jack claimed there was no such thing) that meant that they were both wide awake at four-thirty in the morning; and after a more leisurely dose of the same (plus a shower, because he was not rushing down there without washing up beforehand for something as comparatively trivial as laundry) it was still only just past six when they left.
After what they'd been through, it was ridiculously easy. No alarms, no Weevils, no fires or bombs or anything like that: they just wandered down the hall past the desk and followed the arrows to the laundry room, which was itself incredibly mundane. Some racks of clothes, a few chairs, magazines and the cleaning equipment.
"There's something wrong with that clock." Ianto squinted at it, craning his neck to get a better view. "It's off - an hour and a half off."
"Weird." Jack peered at it a little closer, then took his watch off the chain and set it on top of the machine.
"Looks like nothing."
"Maybe you have to start it? Put your coat in or something."
The coat was still up in the room, but that was okay, because even after they went to retrieve it no one seemed to think anything was amiss.
They started up the machine and the watch (which had been sitting on top) went utterly haywire.
"It looks like some kind of - localized time compression."
"Activated by the electricity of the machine?"
"And the centrifugal force." Jack reset his watch and put it back on his chain. "Huh. They've finally figured out a way around having to wait two hours for your clothes to be done. Brilliant."
"What are we going to do?"
"Nothing we can do." Jack pulled Ianto's coat out of the machine and handed it to him. "Same as we did before. Compliment them about the laundry service. Let's find out if the same principle extends to the kitchen, I'm starving."
author: phinnia
pairing: jack/ianto
rating: R or thereabouts
disclaimer: a wandering minstrel i, a thing of shreds and patches. i own nothing
author's note: this is the first fic i've written in this fandom with stuff like plot and dialogue in it, so be kind. Set post 2.13 'exit wounds'. Warnings for lack of danger, sex, altoids, bad habits, Ianto being Welsh and Jack being tricky.
Ianto Jones was not generally one for long vacations. Mental health days, fine: at most a weekend away, but Ianto was a firm believer in a good day's work and someone who generally coped best by trying to be as useful and busy as he possibly could.
However, given the current state of things - well, a week off couldn't hurt.
Jack had sent Gwen and Rhys away to the south of France on Torchwood's dime, calling it stored up vacation/merit bonus/whatever and after they'd seen the two of them safely off he just kept driving, and for once in his life Ianto was too exhausted to really argue. He made a few token protests (specifically about clothes, which Jack had insisted they could just buy more of, and the rift activity and general safety of Cardiff, which Jack had countered by pointing out that anything they did would be closing the barn door after everything had well and gotten out.) Then Ianto had taken a couple of painkillers and had drifted into a blessedly dreamless sleep.
When he woke up he realized three things:
They were no longer moving.
They had stopped somewhere near the ocean - he could hear the waves and smell the salt.
Jack wasn't in the car.
He only had a few seconds of panic at that last one, because just as soon as he realized the third the list was amended to include a fourth thing: Jack was on the car, half lying down with his legs stretched across the bonnet. He had taken his shirt off and was using it and his greatcoat as a pillow.
He looked up as soon as Ianto opened the door and his grin was one of those infectious ones. "You're awake."
"You're smoking." Fortunately not like that time Owen had spilled that alien lighter fluid, the more conventional kind of smoking, but it was still a bit of a shock seeing Jack with a cigarette in his hand.
"Old habit." Jack took another drag and blew a column of smoke down at his boots. "I used to smoke only after sex, but that was getting to be a lot, and then I decided to smoke only after dying, but then that was getting to be quite a bit too - more than the sex for an embarassingly long time, to tell you the truth. And then I decided to only smoke after the world ended - whatever world I happened to be on. And okay, fine, the world didn't actually end, but I think it was close enough for a while there and I decided I deserved a fag."
Ianto rocked back on his heels and tried not to laugh.
"Hey, I'm the one that's supposed to make ignorant American language jokes." He tossed the stub in the sand and climbed down, crushing it under his heel as Ianto walked around the car. "One of us has to be classy, and you dress better than I do."
Ianto laughed and grabbed Jack's shoulders to haul him around for a proper kiss, and even though the cigarette taste was pretty disgusting it was still warm and real and astoundingly bright in that way aftermath always was; and when they stopped to breathe Ianto was already panting and half-hard and Jack's eyes were the kind of brilliant that Ianto hadn't seen enough of and hoped he never would.
"You drive." Jack was buttoning his shirt up as he walked around to the passenger side. "There's a hotel just about a mile down that road."
*
"So that'll be one king room with full bath, ocean view, is that right sir?"
"It certainly is, ma'am. For the full week, at least."
"Of course. And do you have any baggage?"
"We're travelling light." Jack winked at her and rather lovingly pinched Ianto's ass. The girl coughed, trying to hide a smile.
"I don't suppose you've got dry cleaning service?" Ianto cleared his throat, again schooling his features into something mostly businesslike. "My ... er, friend's coat could use a cleaning while we're settling in."
"Oh, of course sir. I'll see to it right away."
Jack surrendered the coat with a bemused expression that turned into laughter the moment they were out of sight of the desk clerk.
"What is it?"
"I take you away for a big romantic spontaneous vacation and you worry about laundry. You're just so - Welsh." He couldn't stop laughing, staggering through the room and throwing himself backward on the bed. "I love it. Come and molest me with your mellifluous vowels, you."
"Clean your teeth first."
"What?!"
"You taste like an ashtray! Uh. In a good way, a very sexy ashtray of course. Fifty-first century pheromones and all - but - at least have a mint or something." Ianto rummaged around in his pockets and produced a tin of Altoids. "One of these."
Jack opened his mouth to say something -
And there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it." Ianto murmured, tossing the mint box on the bed. "Who is it?"
"Laundry service, sir."
"Must have been a mix-up." said Jack (around the four or five mints already in his mouth). "We just sent it off."
"I'm afraid it's already downstairs, there must have been some mista-" Ianto opened the door and was immediately confronted with a faceful of blue-grey wool.
Familiar blue-grey wool.
Familiar and clean blue-grey wool.
Startled, he stepped back a bit and glanced at Jack over his shoulder.
Jack shrugged.
The bellboy coughed a little and fidgeted, waiting patently: and then Ianto dug a five pound note out of his other pocket and retrieved the hanging laundry bag from the rack. "Thank you. That was exceptionally good service."
"Thank you, sir." said the bellboy.
And then he left. Ianto closed the door very slowly, and then decided to lock it just for good measure.
"There's something strange about that." Jack murmured (again, around the mints).
"There is." Ianto started unbuttoning his shirt, and then decided to pay some attention to Jack's as well.
"We should probably look at it." Jack decided that Ianto was doing just fine with both the shirts and perhaps he should do something about the pants they were both wearing, and tackled Ianto on the bed for safekeeping afterwards.
"Probably."
"Later?"
"Oh God yes."
Ianto hadn't forgotten about the mints, but he hadn't realized Jack still had them in his mouth until he was in Jack's mouth and then he gasped a great shuddering breath at the sensation - cold and hot and tingling everywhere and Jack was somehow grinning rather smugly while doing this which was erotic as hell but still slightly annoying - that was really Jack all over, he thought.
And then there were hands on his hips, big hands and square nails biting into skin and dragging him forward relentlessly: again and again until he was almost unable to hold himself upright and probably would have collapsed except Jack flipped them over and pinned him on the bed. And at that point their limbs and hands were tangled together, hips arching and still frantically devouring each others' mouths and then his breath caught in the back of his throat again and Jack moaned and there were teeth in his shoulder-
Afterward things were quiet and still for a long time, just resting together as their bodies cooled and stretched and relaxed, hearts slowing to the same rhythm. And at some point Ianto thought to ask Jack something, had even turned to do it as a slumber-heavy arm fell across his hips and hushed him with its weight.
Then he was asleep too.
*
In an interesting accident of timing (should such a thing really exist, of course: Jack claimed there was no such thing) that meant that they were both wide awake at four-thirty in the morning; and after a more leisurely dose of the same (plus a shower, because he was not rushing down there without washing up beforehand for something as comparatively trivial as laundry) it was still only just past six when they left.
After what they'd been through, it was ridiculously easy. No alarms, no Weevils, no fires or bombs or anything like that: they just wandered down the hall past the desk and followed the arrows to the laundry room, which was itself incredibly mundane. Some racks of clothes, a few chairs, magazines and the cleaning equipment.
"There's something wrong with that clock." Ianto squinted at it, craning his neck to get a better view. "It's off - an hour and a half off."
"Weird." Jack peered at it a little closer, then took his watch off the chain and set it on top of the machine.
"Looks like nothing."
"Maybe you have to start it? Put your coat in or something."
The coat was still up in the room, but that was okay, because even after they went to retrieve it no one seemed to think anything was amiss.
They started up the machine and the watch (which had been sitting on top) went utterly haywire.
"It looks like some kind of - localized time compression."
"Activated by the electricity of the machine?"
"And the centrifugal force." Jack reset his watch and put it back on his chain. "Huh. They've finally figured out a way around having to wait two hours for your clothes to be done. Brilliant."
"What are we going to do?"
"Nothing we can do." Jack pulled Ianto's coat out of the machine and handed it to him. "Same as we did before. Compliment them about the laundry service. Let's find out if the same principle extends to the kitchen, I'm starving."