Bikini Cops (Jack/Ianto, team; PG-13)
Title: Bikini Cops
Author: etharei
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: early S2, after "Sleeper" (202)
Spoilers: "Sleeper" (202), "Adam" (205)
Summary: “So, what’s the occasion?”
Author's Notes: I'm not entirely convinced of how canon this is; I guess it depends on how you understand "Adam". Light and short.
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Russell T. Davies, the BBC and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes.
Written for: horizonssing, Day #14.
"O summer day beside the joyous sea!
O summer day so wonderful and white,
So full of gladness and so full of pain!
Forever and forever shalt thou be
To some the gravestone of a dead delight,
To some the landmark of a new domain."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Bikini Cops
by Etharei
“So, what’s the occasion?”
“Hmm?” Ianto doesn’t look up from the paperback he appears to be engrossed in, but Jack is plenty aware of Ianto’s talents at multitasking. Whitehall probably thinks there’s a throat infection going around Torchwood Three - all the better.
“You somehow manage to get us all out for a day at the beach, and the Rift hasn’t made so much as a twitch in the last three hours. What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion,” Ianto lazily replies, licking a finger in order to turn a page. Damn him, Jack thinks fondly, as his eyes zero in on the glimpse of pink tongue and the moistened fingertip. “The weather channel and Mainframe predicted a heat wave, and we’ve all been cooped up underground the last few weeks, what with the reparations from the sleeper cell attacks. And I was reasonably sure the Rift is in its quiet phase.”
“I particularly admire the way you got Tosh out of the Hub. Got me kinda hot and bothered.”
“Jack, the Yllina plant on Owen’s desk gets you hot and bothered.”
“It’s a very nice plant,” Jack huffs, tipping his head back and luxuriating in the heat of the sun. Next to him, on the sand, the computer linked directly to their Rift monitoring system beeps in long regular intervals. “So no occasion?”
“Not that I know of.”
“And what I told you last week,” after Beth, “about playing with my father and brother at the beach when I was young. That has nothing to do with this?”
A guilty look passes over Ianto’s face. “It... gave me the idea.”
Twin shrieks draw both their attentions. A safe distance away (at Ianto’s insistence), Owen has managed to spatter wet sand all over Gwen and Tosh, by speedy application of a bright green trowel and a lot of running.
Jack laughs at their antics, and when Ianto turns back around to look at him, he leans over and captures soft, chapped lips in a gentle kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Ianto gazes at him with wide eyes, and smashes his lips against Jack, book forgotten. The kiss is hungrier this time, deep and wet and searching. Jack bridges the gap between their beach chairs, nearly tipping himself out of his, and only the sound of children shouting and laughing in the distance (possibly it’s the rest of the team, a bit hard to tell sometimes) stops Jack from climbing into Ianto’s chair, pushing the back down, pressing himself into Ianto, taking him-
“Jack, all the way out of it,” admonishes Ianto, half-laughing, but his voice has taken on that low, gravelly quality that Jack loves. “This towel isn’t enough to hide under.”
Said towel has been draped over Ianto’s lap; which, in Jack’s view, defeats the purpose of well-fitting swimming trunks. Jack himself has no qualms about displaying as much of his body as decency allowed, and pointedly stretches his arms over his head, earning an admiring look from a gaggle of bikini-clad young women. He gives them his most charming smile, but turns back to Ianto before the women can interpret it as an invitation.
To his annoyance, Ianto has returned to his book. The same women are giving him an appraising look as well, and Jack sees the faint flush start at his cheeks. He knows that Ianto is a bit shy about the amount of body hair he sports, which Jack doesn’t understand since it’s one of the things he likes about Ianto. He reaches over and briefly squeezes Ianto’s hand. “Thank you. For today.”
He’s got Ianto’s full attention again, and a small smile quirks the corners of the younger man’s lips. “It really was for the team as well, you know. We had outings like this while you were gone, so it’s not so strange. I know it can’t be like… where you are from, but-“
“Family is family,” Jack interjects, voice quiet.
“Yeah.” Ianto’s full smile is more warming than the sun. He glances at the book in his hands, then at the others (the girls are further out, splashing among the waves, and Owen is among the women who’d been eyeing Jack previously). Clears his throat. “Um. D’you reckon they’d notice if we disappear for half an hour?”
“Probably,” replies Jack, grinning and sitting up. “But I think they’d be more worried if we don’t.”
Ianto rolls his eyes. “It’s amazing how warped your thinking can get if you’re after sex.” But he stands, leaving (to Jack’s delight) the towel on the chair. “Come on, then.”
Author: etharei
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: early S2, after "Sleeper" (202)
Spoilers: "Sleeper" (202), "Adam" (205)
Summary: “So, what’s the occasion?”
Author's Notes: I'm not entirely convinced of how canon this is; I guess it depends on how you understand "Adam". Light and short.
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Russell T. Davies, the BBC and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes.
Written for: horizonssing, Day #14.
"O summer day beside the joyous sea!
O summer day so wonderful and white,
So full of gladness and so full of pain!
Forever and forever shalt thou be
To some the gravestone of a dead delight,
To some the landmark of a new domain."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Bikini Cops
by Etharei
“So, what’s the occasion?”
“Hmm?” Ianto doesn’t look up from the paperback he appears to be engrossed in, but Jack is plenty aware of Ianto’s talents at multitasking. Whitehall probably thinks there’s a throat infection going around Torchwood Three - all the better.
“You somehow manage to get us all out for a day at the beach, and the Rift hasn’t made so much as a twitch in the last three hours. What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion,” Ianto lazily replies, licking a finger in order to turn a page. Damn him, Jack thinks fondly, as his eyes zero in on the glimpse of pink tongue and the moistened fingertip. “The weather channel and Mainframe predicted a heat wave, and we’ve all been cooped up underground the last few weeks, what with the reparations from the sleeper cell attacks. And I was reasonably sure the Rift is in its quiet phase.”
“I particularly admire the way you got Tosh out of the Hub. Got me kinda hot and bothered.”
“Jack, the Yllina plant on Owen’s desk gets you hot and bothered.”
“It’s a very nice plant,” Jack huffs, tipping his head back and luxuriating in the heat of the sun. Next to him, on the sand, the computer linked directly to their Rift monitoring system beeps in long regular intervals. “So no occasion?”
“Not that I know of.”
“And what I told you last week,” after Beth, “about playing with my father and brother at the beach when I was young. That has nothing to do with this?”
A guilty look passes over Ianto’s face. “It... gave me the idea.”
Twin shrieks draw both their attentions. A safe distance away (at Ianto’s insistence), Owen has managed to spatter wet sand all over Gwen and Tosh, by speedy application of a bright green trowel and a lot of running.
Jack laughs at their antics, and when Ianto turns back around to look at him, he leans over and captures soft, chapped lips in a gentle kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Ianto gazes at him with wide eyes, and smashes his lips against Jack, book forgotten. The kiss is hungrier this time, deep and wet and searching. Jack bridges the gap between their beach chairs, nearly tipping himself out of his, and only the sound of children shouting and laughing in the distance (possibly it’s the rest of the team, a bit hard to tell sometimes) stops Jack from climbing into Ianto’s chair, pushing the back down, pressing himself into Ianto, taking him-
“Jack, all the way out of it,” admonishes Ianto, half-laughing, but his voice has taken on that low, gravelly quality that Jack loves. “This towel isn’t enough to hide under.”
Said towel has been draped over Ianto’s lap; which, in Jack’s view, defeats the purpose of well-fitting swimming trunks. Jack himself has no qualms about displaying as much of his body as decency allowed, and pointedly stretches his arms over his head, earning an admiring look from a gaggle of bikini-clad young women. He gives them his most charming smile, but turns back to Ianto before the women can interpret it as an invitation.
To his annoyance, Ianto has returned to his book. The same women are giving him an appraising look as well, and Jack sees the faint flush start at his cheeks. He knows that Ianto is a bit shy about the amount of body hair he sports, which Jack doesn’t understand since it’s one of the things he likes about Ianto. He reaches over and briefly squeezes Ianto’s hand. “Thank you. For today.”
He’s got Ianto’s full attention again, and a small smile quirks the corners of the younger man’s lips. “It really was for the team as well, you know. We had outings like this while you were gone, so it’s not so strange. I know it can’t be like… where you are from, but-“
“Family is family,” Jack interjects, voice quiet.
“Yeah.” Ianto’s full smile is more warming than the sun. He glances at the book in his hands, then at the others (the girls are further out, splashing among the waves, and Owen is among the women who’d been eyeing Jack previously). Clears his throat. “Um. D’you reckon they’d notice if we disappear for half an hour?”
“Probably,” replies Jack, grinning and sitting up. “But I think they’d be more worried if we don’t.”
Ianto rolls his eyes. “It’s amazing how warped your thinking can get if you’re after sex.” But he stands, leaving (to Jack’s delight) the towel on the chair. “Come on, then.”