Fic: Hot Headed
TITLE: Hot Headed
AUTHOR: Erin Giles
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood and it’s characters are property of the BBC.
RATING: PG-13 (for naked Ianto)
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Jack/Ianto, Gwen
CHALLENGE: horizonssing Day Seven: Summer In The City by The Lovin' Spoonfuls
WORDS: 856
SUMMARY: The heat gets to Torchwood, making Jack short tempered and taking it out on Ianto.
Jack’s shirt stuck to him in all the wrong places as he shifted uncomfortably on his desk chair. He exhaled upwards, trying to revel in the man made breeze but it was a brief reprieve from the sweltering heat. Gwen had disappeared off home as soon as humanly possible, notions of stopping off at Starbucks for a Frappuccino. She had even suggested that Ianto invest in a blender and start making Frappuccinos.
Ianto had frowned at the idea although Jack had seen him later looking longingly at the coffee machine like he needed a coffee fix. He had watched the sweat trickling down the side of Ianto’s neck and disappearing beneath his starched collar. Jack had had to lick his lips to stop himself from licking Ianto’s neck at that point.
The heat had eventually gotten to them all though, bickering with each other and biting each others noses off at the smallest things. Concentration had eluded them as well at key moments setting it motion a chain of events that had lead to Ianto receiving a punch from a pissed off tourist that had been meant for Jack, giving him a black eye for his troubles.
The drive back from the altercation that had turned out to be a false alarm had been no better, the summer traffic tailing back to the ring road. They’d sat in hostile silence, Ianto tapping out an unnerving rhythm on the steering wheel, the air conditioning on full as Jack stared longingly at the couple in the Tigra convertible in the lane beside them. Jack had suggested they replace the SUV with a convertible but Ianto and his infamous sarcasm had pointed out that they as a team weren’t subtle as it was and a convertible would hardly help matters.
Now Jack was alone in the hub after Ianto had stormed out less than an hour ago due to an argument over something so stupid that Jack couldn’t even recall it now. And Jack suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He unstuck himself from his desk chair and moved to exit the hub, hesitating momentarily by the coat stand before he realised how ridiculous he was being. It was twenty-four in the shade, and you’d be lucky to find that. He only hoped it had cooled down somewhat now the sun had gone to bed.
As he drove through the city to Ianto’s flat, the windows open and the cool air of the Irish Sea whiping through the town now the sun had set, all he could think about was how stupid he had been. He hated how crass and horrible he had been towards Ianto; snipping at little things he had done when he was only trying to help; mocking him when he had been injured and worst of all yelling at him for no reason.
Jack didn’t even bother knocking, just fished the key he had to Ianto’s from his key chain, but as he stood outside Ianto’s bedroom door, he reconsidered. He was intruding where he shouldn’t be, assuming things he shouldn’t, making himself at home when it didn’t belong to him. If he was honest he’d been doing it for too long now to go back.
Jack involuntarily wiped the sweat from his forehead, unable to stop himself before he pushed open Ianto’s bedroom door to find the Welshman sprawled across his double bed, sheet low round his waist. His hand was resting peacefully on his torso that was glistening with sweat, his head twisted slightly to the side so the street light streaming through the window caught the vivid bruise on Ianto’s left cheek. The sheet was twisted round one leg, rumpled and knotted in places where Ianto had obviously thrashed about in annoyance with the heat of the room. The window was open as wide as it would go, a breeze gently teasing the curtains away from the window ledge as Jack heard car horns honking down the end of the street. This seemed to rouse Ianto as one blared directly outside followed by angry shouts and the screech of a cat.
“Before you say anything, I’m sorry.” Jack held up his hands in defence as Ianto blinked blearily at the clammy figure standing in his bedroom doorway.
“I’m sorry for coming in, and I’m sorry for earlier, for being thoughtless and ungrateful and mocking you when you were hurt and generally being a bastard of the nth degree. And are you naked under there?” Jack paused, swallowing as his throat and lips felt dry, which was odd considering how much he was pespiring.
Ianto laughed in response, sitting up on his elbows slightly so he could regard Jack.
“Do me a favour and fetch some ice from the freezer and I’ll let you find out.” Ianto smiled teasingly. Jack blinked a couple of times, trying to stop his gaze from straying to Ianto’s crotch before he was nodding absentmindedly and turning from the room.
“Oh and Jack.” Ianto called after him. Jack spun on his heels, trying desperately to look at Ianto’s face and not any other part of his anatomy.
“Apology accepted.”
AUTHOR: Erin Giles
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood and it’s characters are property of the BBC.
RATING: PG-13 (for naked Ianto)
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Jack/Ianto, Gwen
CHALLENGE: horizonssing Day Seven: Summer In The City by The Lovin' Spoonfuls
WORDS: 856
SUMMARY: The heat gets to Torchwood, making Jack short tempered and taking it out on Ianto.
Jack’s shirt stuck to him in all the wrong places as he shifted uncomfortably on his desk chair. He exhaled upwards, trying to revel in the man made breeze but it was a brief reprieve from the sweltering heat. Gwen had disappeared off home as soon as humanly possible, notions of stopping off at Starbucks for a Frappuccino. She had even suggested that Ianto invest in a blender and start making Frappuccinos.
Ianto had frowned at the idea although Jack had seen him later looking longingly at the coffee machine like he needed a coffee fix. He had watched the sweat trickling down the side of Ianto’s neck and disappearing beneath his starched collar. Jack had had to lick his lips to stop himself from licking Ianto’s neck at that point.
The heat had eventually gotten to them all though, bickering with each other and biting each others noses off at the smallest things. Concentration had eluded them as well at key moments setting it motion a chain of events that had lead to Ianto receiving a punch from a pissed off tourist that had been meant for Jack, giving him a black eye for his troubles.
The drive back from the altercation that had turned out to be a false alarm had been no better, the summer traffic tailing back to the ring road. They’d sat in hostile silence, Ianto tapping out an unnerving rhythm on the steering wheel, the air conditioning on full as Jack stared longingly at the couple in the Tigra convertible in the lane beside them. Jack had suggested they replace the SUV with a convertible but Ianto and his infamous sarcasm had pointed out that they as a team weren’t subtle as it was and a convertible would hardly help matters.
Now Jack was alone in the hub after Ianto had stormed out less than an hour ago due to an argument over something so stupid that Jack couldn’t even recall it now. And Jack suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He unstuck himself from his desk chair and moved to exit the hub, hesitating momentarily by the coat stand before he realised how ridiculous he was being. It was twenty-four in the shade, and you’d be lucky to find that. He only hoped it had cooled down somewhat now the sun had gone to bed.
As he drove through the city to Ianto’s flat, the windows open and the cool air of the Irish Sea whiping through the town now the sun had set, all he could think about was how stupid he had been. He hated how crass and horrible he had been towards Ianto; snipping at little things he had done when he was only trying to help; mocking him when he had been injured and worst of all yelling at him for no reason.
Jack didn’t even bother knocking, just fished the key he had to Ianto’s from his key chain, but as he stood outside Ianto’s bedroom door, he reconsidered. He was intruding where he shouldn’t be, assuming things he shouldn’t, making himself at home when it didn’t belong to him. If he was honest he’d been doing it for too long now to go back.
Jack involuntarily wiped the sweat from his forehead, unable to stop himself before he pushed open Ianto’s bedroom door to find the Welshman sprawled across his double bed, sheet low round his waist. His hand was resting peacefully on his torso that was glistening with sweat, his head twisted slightly to the side so the street light streaming through the window caught the vivid bruise on Ianto’s left cheek. The sheet was twisted round one leg, rumpled and knotted in places where Ianto had obviously thrashed about in annoyance with the heat of the room. The window was open as wide as it would go, a breeze gently teasing the curtains away from the window ledge as Jack heard car horns honking down the end of the street. This seemed to rouse Ianto as one blared directly outside followed by angry shouts and the screech of a cat.
“Before you say anything, I’m sorry.” Jack held up his hands in defence as Ianto blinked blearily at the clammy figure standing in his bedroom doorway.
“I’m sorry for coming in, and I’m sorry for earlier, for being thoughtless and ungrateful and mocking you when you were hurt and generally being a bastard of the nth degree. And are you naked under there?” Jack paused, swallowing as his throat and lips felt dry, which was odd considering how much he was pespiring.
Ianto laughed in response, sitting up on his elbows slightly so he could regard Jack.
“Do me a favour and fetch some ice from the freezer and I’ll let you find out.” Ianto smiled teasingly. Jack blinked a couple of times, trying to stop his gaze from straying to Ianto’s crotch before he was nodding absentmindedly and turning from the room.
“Oh and Jack.” Ianto called after him. Jack spun on his heels, trying desperately to look at Ianto’s face and not any other part of his anatomy.
“Apology accepted.”