Fic: Daze
Title: Daze
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs to Russell and the BBC.
Challenge: For insevens' brainchild, horizonssing. Summer afternoon - summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. - Henry James
Summary: A moment of peace in the relentless heat.
Ianto knows, in some dusty dark little corner in the depths of his brain, that he and Jack just saved the world; that this park alone would have been blown into smithereens an hour ago if it hadn’t been for them. He’s also vaguely aware that that device is still ticking ominously and that they should really get it back to the Hub in case it’s counting down again.
He knows all of this. He still doesn’t move an inch.
He can’t see, but he knows that Jack is sprawled out beside him; one arm draped over his eyes to block out the light, sweat patches slowly gathering at his armpits, coat lying with abandon on the ground next to him. He’s not moving either; if he weren’t making those soft, prolonged groans every so often Ianto wouldn’t be sure if he was alive.
The heat is relentless. It covers Ianto’s body like the thickest blanket; scorching his hair from the tips to the roots, rolling over his face and chest, down to his legs to the ends of his toes, moving in waves. He feels heavy; he’s convinced that the grass will physically yank him down if he tries to get up. He’d tried lifting his head about half an hour ago; it had lolled stupidly as his body screamed in protest, and he hadn’t moved since then.
And the device is still ticking. Faster than before, actually.
All at once, the calm, absolutely scorching equilibrium is interrupted when something hard makes sudden contact with Ianto’s head. He opens his eyes, snapped out of his reverie, to find a football being picked up by an apologetic looking teenager.
“Sorry.” she says, grinning, and dashes off.
Ianto groans, eyes falling shut again.
“Jack,” he mumbles. No answer. He makes a stupendous effort and lifts his arm to prod at Jack’s side. “Jack. Jack!”
Jack mutters something unintelligible and pulls his arm further across his face.
“Jack, c’mon. We need to get this back.”
Ianto feels for the cool metal of the device and shoves it abruptly in the vague direction of Jack’s chest. Jack starts in surprise and opens his eyes, immediately squeezing them shut when the sun gets in.
“Ow.”
“Careful, now.” says Ianto, quietly, rubbing his eyes and attempting to expel the heaviness from his limbs and sit up. “Jack, we have to…”
“I know.” He shifts, ever so slightly, still clutching the device. “Don’t think I can move.”
“Well, you’ll have to.” replies Ianto firmly, finally sitting up and feeling just a tad more alert. He leans over and pokes Jack’s leg, digging his fingers in.
“Ow. All right, all right!”
Jack moves, slowly, bracing his hands on the grass and manoeuvring himself upwards with a groan, shifting until he’s shoulder to shoulder with Ianto. He opens his eyes and squints at the other man who’s still, miraculously, wearing his three-piece suit.
Ianto looks back at him, half-lidded eyes, mildly.
“What?”
“How have you not burnt to a crisp?” Jack asks incredulously, looking him up and down.
Ianto stretches. “Would hardly be practical, would it? And a bit of a waste, considering we’d just saved our own skins from that thing.”
He nods at the device and Jack looks down; the timer reads 57:40, the numbers slowly ticking down with imperceptible blips. He groans and leans his head against Ianto’s shoulder; the sounds of the park muffled in one ear.
Ianto’s arm reaches around; fingers stroking the back of Jack’s neck. He chuckles, softly.
“Would’ve thought you’d been to hotter places than this.”
“’Course,” Jack mutters, his finger idly drawing circles on Ianto’s leg, “But not in a long time. And Jesus.” He looks up at the completely cloudless sky, then down again; “Haven’t seen it in this country for a while. Hell, haven’t been outside for a while. Maybe I’ve missed it.”
“Ah, we’re full of surprises.” Ianto mumbles, smiling a little when Jack’s lips touch his temple.
“You’re telling me.”
He glances down at the device. 53:28, and counting.
“Come on,” he says, struggling upwards and bringing Ianto with him. “Better get this back. We’ve got plenty of time but I don’t trust it not to freak out on us.”
“Quite.” Ianto fiddles in his pocket for a second. “Want an ice cream?”
“Oh, God yes. And if it has less than two flakes in it I’m pulling fingers. Oh, and chocolate sprinkles. And maybe…”
“Twenty-eight pence.” Ianto interrupts, holding out the coins for Jack to inspect. “All I could find. Sorry.”
“Damn it. Never mind.” Jack picks his coat off the grass and wraps it around the device before moving off, Ianto at his heels. “If you’d be willing to cover yourself in chocolate I’d be happy to lick you instead.”
“Good to know. I’ll try and compensate for your loss, Jack.” Ianto deadpans.
Jack grins at him, eyes shining, and the two men break into a run.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs to Russell and the BBC.
Challenge: For insevens' brainchild, horizonssing. Summer afternoon - summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. - Henry James
Summary: A moment of peace in the relentless heat.
Ianto knows, in some dusty dark little corner in the depths of his brain, that he and Jack just saved the world; that this park alone would have been blown into smithereens an hour ago if it hadn’t been for them. He’s also vaguely aware that that device is still ticking ominously and that they should really get it back to the Hub in case it’s counting down again.
He knows all of this. He still doesn’t move an inch.
He can’t see, but he knows that Jack is sprawled out beside him; one arm draped over his eyes to block out the light, sweat patches slowly gathering at his armpits, coat lying with abandon on the ground next to him. He’s not moving either; if he weren’t making those soft, prolonged groans every so often Ianto wouldn’t be sure if he was alive.
The heat is relentless. It covers Ianto’s body like the thickest blanket; scorching his hair from the tips to the roots, rolling over his face and chest, down to his legs to the ends of his toes, moving in waves. He feels heavy; he’s convinced that the grass will physically yank him down if he tries to get up. He’d tried lifting his head about half an hour ago; it had lolled stupidly as his body screamed in protest, and he hadn’t moved since then.
And the device is still ticking. Faster than before, actually.
All at once, the calm, absolutely scorching equilibrium is interrupted when something hard makes sudden contact with Ianto’s head. He opens his eyes, snapped out of his reverie, to find a football being picked up by an apologetic looking teenager.
“Sorry.” she says, grinning, and dashes off.
Ianto groans, eyes falling shut again.
“Jack,” he mumbles. No answer. He makes a stupendous effort and lifts his arm to prod at Jack’s side. “Jack. Jack!”
Jack mutters something unintelligible and pulls his arm further across his face.
“Jack, c’mon. We need to get this back.”
Ianto feels for the cool metal of the device and shoves it abruptly in the vague direction of Jack’s chest. Jack starts in surprise and opens his eyes, immediately squeezing them shut when the sun gets in.
“Ow.”
“Careful, now.” says Ianto, quietly, rubbing his eyes and attempting to expel the heaviness from his limbs and sit up. “Jack, we have to…”
“I know.” He shifts, ever so slightly, still clutching the device. “Don’t think I can move.”
“Well, you’ll have to.” replies Ianto firmly, finally sitting up and feeling just a tad more alert. He leans over and pokes Jack’s leg, digging his fingers in.
“Ow. All right, all right!”
Jack moves, slowly, bracing his hands on the grass and manoeuvring himself upwards with a groan, shifting until he’s shoulder to shoulder with Ianto. He opens his eyes and squints at the other man who’s still, miraculously, wearing his three-piece suit.
Ianto looks back at him, half-lidded eyes, mildly.
“What?”
“How have you not burnt to a crisp?” Jack asks incredulously, looking him up and down.
Ianto stretches. “Would hardly be practical, would it? And a bit of a waste, considering we’d just saved our own skins from that thing.”
He nods at the device and Jack looks down; the timer reads 57:40, the numbers slowly ticking down with imperceptible blips. He groans and leans his head against Ianto’s shoulder; the sounds of the park muffled in one ear.
Ianto’s arm reaches around; fingers stroking the back of Jack’s neck. He chuckles, softly.
“Would’ve thought you’d been to hotter places than this.”
“’Course,” Jack mutters, his finger idly drawing circles on Ianto’s leg, “But not in a long time. And Jesus.” He looks up at the completely cloudless sky, then down again; “Haven’t seen it in this country for a while. Hell, haven’t been outside for a while. Maybe I’ve missed it.”
“Ah, we’re full of surprises.” Ianto mumbles, smiling a little when Jack’s lips touch his temple.
“You’re telling me.”
He glances down at the device. 53:28, and counting.
“Come on,” he says, struggling upwards and bringing Ianto with him. “Better get this back. We’ve got plenty of time but I don’t trust it not to freak out on us.”
“Quite.” Ianto fiddles in his pocket for a second. “Want an ice cream?”
“Oh, God yes. And if it has less than two flakes in it I’m pulling fingers. Oh, and chocolate sprinkles. And maybe…”
“Twenty-eight pence.” Ianto interrupts, holding out the coins for Jack to inspect. “All I could find. Sorry.”
“Damn it. Never mind.” Jack picks his coat off the grass and wraps it around the device before moving off, Ianto at his heels. “If you’d be willing to cover yourself in chocolate I’d be happy to lick you instead.”
“Good to know. I’ll try and compensate for your loss, Jack.” Ianto deadpans.
Jack grins at him, eyes shining, and the two men break into a run.