Torchwood IMs: Ianto's Birthday (4)
Nov. 7th, 2009 05:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_silver_storyTitle: Ianto's Birthday (4)
Chapter: 88
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, the Doctor
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
a_silver_story
Genre Humour, smut, angst
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M.M
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: See title, really.
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
88 |
IM | Ianto's Birthday (4)
“What do we do now?”
He knew the Doctor was stood behind him, even if he couldn’t see. Jack leant his hands on the bed, Ianto still and lifeless just inches from him. He hung his head, squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.
“We should take him to the control room,” said the Doctor quietly. “like we planned. We’ll see instantly if it worked that way.”
“I’ve had nightmares about this.” murmured Jack.
“About this?”
“About him ... dying. About the day it happens. I never thought I’d have to stand by and watch his life taken away by his own hands, doing nothing but holding him until he was gone.” Jack tutted loudly. “His hair’s a mess ... I’m no good with his hair. It never does what I tell it to ...”
“His life is in your hands, now, Jack. You can bring him back. You can save him; and you can save existence along with him.” The Doctor stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Jack squeezed it, took another deep breath and prepared to wheel the bed up to the command console.
“The TARDIS will help you,” explained the Doctor. “but only to an extent. She can’t control your will. Don’t try and bring anyone else back. The paradoxes will cancel out anything we did bringing back Ianto, and the Universe will unravel.”
“I understand that.” Jack sighed, pushing the bed, keeping near Ianto's head, pretending the young man was only sleeping. The flush in his cheeks was fading, and his skin was starting to seem clammy. Soon it would be hard to pretend he was only unconscious; his complexion will soon be pasted and waxy, his lips pale and greying. Jack tried to move faster.
“Here we go!” the Doctor tried to grin, but it didn’t quite happen.
Jack was feeling sick and nervous, running his fingers through Ianto's hair, trying to tease it into something neater. He fought back the grief, biting it down and pushing it away to be dealt with later, waiting while the Doctor muttered low to the TARDIS as he wandered around the console, running fingers over the console and finding where he was going to pull her open.
“Jack?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Ready?”
Jack nodded mutely.
“Remember: look straight into the light. It might hurt a little but ... you’ll be fine. Should be fine. It’s you. I’m sure you’ll be fine ...”
“Okay.” Jack moved closer. “Shall we count to three?”
“On three, or a second after three?”
“Whichever you feel most comfortable with.” grumbled Jack. “Just hurry up, Doctor.” He glanced over at Ianto's body and bit back annoyance at himself. Why could Jack never get Ianto's hair to behave? He only ever messed it up more ...
“One .... two .... three ....!”
The Doctor wasn’t lying.
It really did hurt.
~*~*~*~
Ouch. Aching.
Did the pins and needles happen every time?
His joints ached worse than they ever had in his entire life – he’d definitely need a massage a later, and he knew exactly who he’d want to give it to him.
He smiled to himself, then remembered where he was. The TARDIS.
The mesh metal of her floor was digging into his back, warm underneath him and humming her comfort. Odd, he thought. I don’t remember falling over ...
Everything came crashing back in an instant.
He prised his eyes open, lifting his head with aching muscles and staring around, hauling himself to a sitting position as his entire being screamed in protest of movement. Sore throat feeling like it was on fire, he forced out a croaked word:
“Doctor?”
There was a moment of silence before he got his reply.
“Over here, Jack.”
~*~*~*~
With a great effort, Jack pulled himself up. He groaned as his legs yelled out against his weight, and staggered over to where the Doctor was stood by the bed.
He was beaming.
“He woke up, went into hysterics and hyperventilated a little. But he’s fine.” He nodded down at the bed, where Ianto lay. He was pale, but breathing deeply and evenly. Tears had tracked down his cheeks.
“‘Hyperventilated a little’?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “He ... passed out ...”
“I knocked him out, actually.” The Doctor shuffled nervously. “He was panicking about you. You were in pain and he was going to kiss you and he had to be stopped. Otherwise the Vortex energy would have passed into him and lord knows what he’d try and do with it.”
“He’d try and turn the national drink of the UK from tea to coffee and make Archiving skills mandatory to the curriculum.” Jack smiled to himself, reaching out to brush a brown curl away from Ianto's face. He felt strangely calm within himself, warm and happy. Complete.
He tapped the side of Ianto's face with his palm, urging him to wake up. He smiled as a hand batted him away, and a sleepy murmur escaped Ianto's lips.
“Leave him a bit.” sighed the Doctor. “I don’t think he’s concussed ...”
“Has ... everything sorted itself?” Jack asked, smiling and playing with the buttons on Ianto's shirt.
“There was a minor ... Time hurricane. About a hundred trillion years whipped around and around while the Timey Wimey made sense of everything. Pity you missed it – it was strangely beautiful – and I now know the exact moment Johnny Depp’s age finally starts to show.”
“Mmm.” replied Jack, adjusting Ianto's tie, still smiling a little dopily.
“I think everything should be fine. Everything ... feels fine.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re fine, Ianto's fine, the TARDIS is fine, Time’s fine, I’m fine.”
“Mmhmmm.”
“Are you listening?”
“I think so.”
“Jack?”
Jack jerked his head up and looked at the Doctor. “What?”
“You weren’t listening.”
“Sorry.” said Jack sheepishly, then lowered his eyes to Ianto again. “Can I wake him up yet?”
The Doctor shrugged. The TARDIS pushed his mind a little, hinting at him to maybe leave Jack and Ianto alone for a bit. He wandered off into the corridors beyond, thinking about maybe trying to find a snazzier suit. Scruffy was fun, but snazzy ... okay he was little bit jealous of Ianto's finer tailoring. Who could deny? He looked good.
“Ianto.” Jack said, taking Ianto's hand and squeezing it, tapping the side of his face with his palm again, trying to wake him. Two bleary blue eyes narrowed at him, blinking in the light. Jack helped him sit up, and he hissed in pain, putting a hand on the back of his head as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Jack? It worked ...” he smiled, rubbing his head. “The Doctor knocked me out ... I think I got a bit hysterical ...”
“I heard.” smiled Jack, stopping him from getting off the bed and standing between his legs, hands on Ianto's hips. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone smacked me on the back of the head with a Converse All Star.” grumbled Ianto.
Jack kissed him without hesitating any longer, feeling Ianto's lips part beneath his and hot tongue press against them. Jack reciprocated, softly and gently and completely in love.
He could taste the difference already, he realised: Ianto tasted alive. More alive than ever before. Life was flowing through him, coursing his blood, pulsing through his nerves, printed into his flesh and unending and renewing and constant and forever, but in the moment and right here and now. Jack didn’t have enough thought left to wonder if Ianto tasted it in him; if he had always tasted it or could only sense it now.
It felt like hours before they parted, the TARDIS giving them her equivalent of a cleared throat, however regretful she was to interrupt them. The Doctor approached a moment or so later, peeling a Satsuma and whistling ‘Hey Jude’, black pinstripe suit, waistcoat and blue shirt with a striped black and white tie.
Ianto raised an eyebrow, looking down at his own pinstriped suit, but decided not to mention it.
“Okay Doctor, I think we’re ready to go home.” smiled Jack, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels as Ianto hopped off the bed and straightened his clothes.
“Where did I leave my jacket?” he wondered aloud, and the TARDIS sent him off in the right direction.
“Erm ... Jack? There’s something I’ve realised ...” the Doctor said as Ianto went off to retrieve his jacket.
Jack’s expression turned instantly solemn with the Doctor’s tone. “What?”
“Well ... you and Ianto are ... opposite ... y’know? Opposite sides of the axis?”
“What are you saying?”
“Well, opposites attract. It’s probably best if you don’t stray more than a couple of hundred galaxies away from each other, or you might end up feeling a bit ... nauseated. Possibly have a strange pulling sensation down your left hand side. A nagging feeling you’ve forgotten something.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sure we’ll manage to stay within a couple of hundred galaxies.”
“You say that now,” the Doctor said darkly. “just wait ‘til you start hating each other ... but anyway! Onwards! Outwards! Homeward bound!” The Doctor clapped his hands together, then hesitated. “Sure I can’t convince you to come on a quick trip?”
“I think maybe we should give Ianto a chance to settle first.” Jack smiled, and the Doctor nodded.
“Good idea ... when will that be?”
“A century and a half. Give or take.”
“Ouch. Okay.”
“Unless ... y’know ... it’s an emergency.”
“It usually is.” sighed the Doctor as they shared a smile. “Well, of you go then ...”
“Er ... yah ... I need my Ianto ....” Jack reminded him.
Ianto wandered back into the console room eventually, donning his Jacket and carrying a book.
“What’s that?” asked Jack, indicating the leather bound tome.
Ianto grinned. “A gift from the TARDIS. I’m not allowed to tell.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, pulling at his suit to see if he could get it as straight as Ianto's. For aesthetic reasons. Definitely.
“Well ... thanks, Doctor.” Ianto held his hand out, and the Doctor shook it, then moved and hugged Jack.
They stepped out of the TARDIS into Ianto's flat, and watched with their arms around each other as it faded from view, Ianto shielding his face from the draught of its departure in Jack’s neck.
“So ...” began Jack. “What did you think of him?”
“I think ... he’s still not that young.” smirked Ianto.
Jack laughed, and kept hold of him. “How’re you ... how’re you feeling?”
“Buzzy.” frowned Ianto. “A bit ... hyper?”
“That’s coming back that does that.” sighed Jack.
“Oh.” breathed Ianto. “I think ... I think I suddenly understand where you libido comes from ...” He gave Jack his wicked little smile, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I think we need to celebrate saving existence.”
“Definitely.” agreed Jack, leaning closer and kissing him back, lingering and parting his lips, letting Ianto lead him further, tasting again that surge of life within him.
“I love you.” breathed Jack.
“I know.” replied Ianto simply, and kissed him again, not waiting for the invitation before pushing his tongue forward and pulling Jack towards the bedroom.
“Ianto ...” Jack mumbled. “... Ianto ... we need to ... we need to talk ...” he managed to mutter between kisses, Ianto's lips on his cheeks, jaw-line and neck; his hands tugging Jack’s shirt out of his trousers.
“What about?” Ianto muttered back, slipping his hands under the shirt and undershirt, finally getting access to the bare flesh of Jack’s torso.
“Er ... I think we just underwent a pretty big change?” Jack reminded him, trying to concentrate as tongue and teeth nipped his collarbone and his braces had somehow disappeared. So had his belt. How had Ianto managed to get rid of his belt?
“So? We can talk later ...”
“What’s wrong with now?”
“Plenty of time.”
Ianto pushed him fully this time, and Jack sank into the round mattress and gave up his resolve as Ianto crawled up his body, pushing his t-shirt up as he went, kissing his way from waistband to collar bone.
Jack’s body was singing beneath him, tingling with anticipation as Ianto knelt up and slowly pulled the weaves of his tie loose, dropping it over the side of the bed and lowering his eyes as he began to unbutton his shirt. Jack ran his hands up Ianto's thighs as he was straddled over him, hard muscle squeezing his torso, and massaged the sensitive inner flesh as he watched the shirt pulled apart and dropped aside, too.
He traced his hands over the planes of Ianto's bare stomach, pushing his own hips upwards so that Ianto could feel his hard bulge pressing into his arse. Ianto’s head tipped back, and he drew in a deep breath, before lowering his face back to Jack, leaning forward so that their torsos were together, pressing himself down so that his own hardness would push into Jack. They moaned softly, and Ianto eased up, kissing Jack’s mouth and pulling his t-shirt off and over his head for him.
Jack rolled them, lying between Ianto's legs, hands behind his thighs and kissing him slowly, resisting the urge to grind his hips down and feel the friction. Kneeling upright, he ghosted his fingers over Ianto's chest, watching his eyes flutter closed and his skin flush, hearing his breath catch when a nipple was teased. Jack lightly touched his way down to the waistband, popping open the button of Ianto's trousers, pulling down the zip and waiting for Ianto to lift his hips so that he could take them off him.
Ianto smiled with darkened eyes as Jack leant down to kiss him again and stroke his face, and Ianto gently scratched his nails down Jack’s back, biting his bottom lip slightly. Jack moaned into his mouth, reaching down to his own waistband and popping the button open and pulling his zip down, getting his trousers off as Ianto rolled them again, tugging off Jack’s boxers.
With deep breaths and lust-filled eyes, Jack reached for Ianto's and pushed them down his thighs, curling his fingers around Ianto's cock and gently moving his thumb over the head and lightly moving his fingers up and down, almost ghosting. Ianto's head tipped back and exposed the soft flesh of his neck again, and Jack placed his other hand behind his neck to pull him down.
A small sigh escaped Ianto's lips as Jack’s mouth pressed into his neck, their erections rubbing together between them and eliciting moans and mewls that Ianto had never heard Jack make before. Lying between Jack’s legs, he pushed them into each other again, Jack gasping with need as Ianto began work on marking his pectoral, above his nipple where there was sensitive flesh. Hands were underneath him, squeezing his buttocks, pulling him apart and touching over his hole.
Jack writhed and gasped loudly, hot tongue wetly licking his chest, goose pimples rising where Ianto had left a trail of saliva. He ran his hands through Ianto's hair, trying to push his head lower, feeling the resistance and knowing that isn’t what Ianto wanted. He moaned in exasperation, pushing his hands over the planes of Ianto's back as teeth continued to nip his chest, biting a little harder and cooling after a quick flick of tongue. Jack raised his legs, his feet in the air, blood rushing down to his groin as Ianto's stomach brushed against the hard flesh of his cock.
Ianto was being torturously slow, not allowing Jack to touch himself, kissing the palm of a hand after he’d grabbed a wrist to stop it going southwards. Jack writhed as fingers touched his entrance again, simultaneous with Ianto sucking his middle finger into his mouth and thrusting his hips forward and rubbing their cocks together with beautiful sensations.
Finally, Ianto reached for the lubricant. Jack rested his claves on his shoulders while he worked, trying to concentrate on Ianto and hoping he wouldn’t peak too soon – if Ianto forced those fingers any deeper, it was highly likely.
Jack was desperate by the time he was ready, but one thought was still in his mind.
“Wait ...” he managed to gasp, and Ianto almost glared at him, then softened when he realised what Jack was suggesting. They cocooned themselves under the duvets – quickly becoming one of their favourite things to do during sex – and blocked out the rest of the world.
Jack closed his eyes in anticipation, legs spread wide, feeling the heat radiate from Ianto's body into the sensitive inner flesh of his thighs. Finally he felt it, forcing its way forward, opening his body and making it so tight at the same time. He panted and gasped, every millimetre of Ianto getting further inside him making him moan loudly, drawing his legs up and holding them behind the knees, giving Ianto a better angle to get as deep into him as possible.
Fully inside, Ianto kissed him as deep as he could, feeling the back of Jack’s throat and knowing Jack was trying to get just as deep inside him. Finally, he did what he’d been too scared to do for months. The kiss was distraction enough for Jack, though he did falter when he felt the cold, silver metal pressed into his hand.
“Wha ...?” he breathed, but Ianto silenced him with a kiss, and all became clear. Ianto had pushed a TeleComm into his hand.
Jack cried out loudly as their minds met.
“Control yourself.” Ianto whispered, his breath ghosting over Jack’s face, an inch from his own. “It’s okay ... control yourself ...”
Jack breathed and calmed, sorting through exactly what was in his head. His own experience, and Ianto's simultaneously. He was feeling and being felt, inside and around, fucking and being fucked. Loving and being loved.
“It’s too much ...” he moaned, his thoughts shorting out into nothing but feeling as Ianto moved inside him.
Ianto tested him a little at first, a few slow, smooth thrusts as he writhed and fisted the blankets beneath him, knotting them in his fingers. They were both too close to last long, and they both could sense where the other was, what the other was feeling, the pleasure coursing through them both. Jack was right; it was probably too much.
Neither was letting go though, not of the little silver Comms.
Ianto was pounding into Jack’s body as he cried out and moaned and groaned beneath him, finally coming over himself with a desperate grab for Ianto to kiss him, and they did so messily with more tongue than lips until Jack was limp, feeling the liquid heat of Ianto's orgasm inside him, burning pleasure into his body.
He gasped and flinched suddenly – Ianto did the same – staring at their hands. Where the TeleComms had been, there was a silver gooey mess and a small spire of smoke. Quickly they tossed them onto the bedside table, moaning as Ianto slipped out of Jack’s body to lie beside him and examine the burn on his hand. On both their hands.
“Oops.” sighed Jack. “I think we broke one of our favourite toys.” He slipped under Ianto's arms to feel it curl around him and squeeze his shoulder, resting his head on Ianto's chest. Both their hearts were beating incredibly fast as they calmed.
“At least you can’t distract me in libraries anymore.” smiled Ianto. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll come across something equally usable.”
“We could just hang around until the sixty-fourth century and buy a pair.” suggested Jack. “I’d try and fix those but ... they’re a bit ... gooey-fied.”
Ianto glanced over at the two puddles of silver on the bedside table. “Yah. A bit.” he agreed. They sat in silence a moment, just thinking to themselves and holding each other. “Jack?”
“Ya-hah?”
Ianto took a deep breath. “I ... I was thinking ... now that ... now that we’re both ... ‘fixed’ ... could we maybe ... while my family is st-still here ... think about the very near future, rather than forty-three centuries ahead?”
Jack nuzzled his neck. “Sure. Why? What’s on your mind?”
“Y’know ... just ... commitment.”
Jack raised his head, wide-eyed. “Like ... legal commitment ...?”
“I suppose ... kinda ...”
“Ianto ... you haven’t been a fixed point for three hours ... and you’re asking me if ...?”
“Well, it would be the next logical move.” Ianto frowned.
“Yeah. Okay then. Let’s do it.”
“Really?”
“If that’s what you want.”
Ianto grinned. “Okay. I’ll ... I’ll look in a couple of windows tomorrow.”
“Um ... right ... okayyy ...” frowned Jack.
Ianto just grinned again, letting his eyes drift closed as Jack settled back against his chest.
Jack sighed. “You could’ve at least bought me a ring first.”
Ianto nearly jumped sky high.
“WHAT?” he practically shouted, staring at Jack in shock.
Jack frowned. “Commitment ... legal commitment? You asked me literally a second ago ...”
“I meant ... that’s not what I meant!”
“Oh ...” Jack flushed. He actually flushed. Ianto was quite pink, too. “... what did you mean?”
“I meant get a house! A commitment! A house – you and me.”
“... and the legal commitment?”
“MORTGAGE!”
“Right ...” Jack bit his lip, and gently put his head back on Ianto's chest, urging him to calm down without using words. “Well, I’m all for that too.”
“Yeah ...” Ianto said, his voice shaking a little. “You thought I was asking you to ... oh ... I’d never have ... I’d never have done it like that, Jack!”
“Well, in your post-coital incoherency you were a little confusing.” Jack huffed.
“You said ‘yes’ ...” Ianto breathed.
“Anyone would say ‘yes’ to you.” Jack replied.
“That wasn’t a proposal though. It doesn’t count that you said ‘yes’.” Ianto babbled. “I was just ... a house ... getting a house ... possibly. Maybe. Near to work.”
“Yeah. And you’re going looking in estate agents’ windows.” Jack clarified for them both.
“Yep. So ... no proposal. Just ... misunderstanding.”
“Totally.” Jack agreed, again trying to get Ianto to settle, nuzzling his chest hair and kissing the flesh gently.
Ianto took his deep breaths, and closed his eyes again. “Heyyyyyyy!” he realised suddenly. “You never gave me a birthday present!” he scowled.
“Oh! What time is it?”
Ianto checked the clock on the table. “Seven. In the evening.”
“We’ve got dinner reservations at seven thirty. Get dressed!” Jack ordered, kissing his mouth quickly and getting out of bed.
“Good job I reminded you.” Ianto scowled, folding his arms.
“Well ... we did have quite a bit on ...” Jack reminded him.
“Yeah ... fair point. I think I forgot for a bit, too.” Ianto smiled, crossing over to the wardrobe and finding a new suit. Jack disappeared off somewhere while Ianto amusedly glanced over the labelling on his suits again. He decided on the Cute Suit, with a hot pink shirt and a snazzy black tie with two two-tone pink stripes just under the knot. His hair was little unkempt, and he could probably do with a shower, but right now a shower would probably take longer than it would to make the reservation, order their food, eat it and leave after dessert.
His jaw nearly hit the floor when Jack came back, and Ianto blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
He was wearing a fine-tailored, plain black three-piece suit, complete with a deep green shirt shot with silver and a matching-coloured tie.
“You’re wearing that ... voluntarily?” Ianto gaped, though couldn’t stop himself straightening the tie, regarding it closely then untying it to tie it again.
“Special occasion.” grinned Jack, allowing him to fuss over him. “Now c’mon. We’re gonna be late.”
~*~*~*~
“Oh. My. God. How long ago did you get this reservation?” Ianto asked after they’d been seated and the waiter had wandered away with their order of wine.
“A couple of months. I was ... worried we wouldn’t be able to keep it but ... well, here we are.” he grinned and shrugged. They were seated in a fairly private spot in a corner. A rather prime table.
Ianto's eyes widened at the prices in the menu. “Jack ... I know I like luxury but ... dear God, we could finance a third world country for a year with the cost of tonight!”
“I want this to be special.”
“Because you forgot last year?” Ianto asked accusingly.
Jack shuffled uncomfortably. “It was different then ... kinda. And I was dead most of the day! I did get you a card, though.”
“’Spose.” Ianto conceded, aware he might have just accidentally ruined the meal.
“The ... er ... the fish looks nice ...” Jack attempted.
“Yeah ...” Great, thought Ianto. Small talk ... this is hardly a first date ... you bloody ruined it, didn’t you, you Welsh idiot?
“So ... um ... how’s Rhiannon?”
“Holding up okay. She’s started seeing a new fella, actually. Johnny something or other. I need to check him out, actually.”
Jack raised his eyebrow.
“Not in a sexual or stalk-y ‘overprotective brother with a high-up government job’ kind of way.” he sighed. “I meant meet him and get a first impression.”
“Ahh. Okay. You’re not being very concise today.” Jack smiled, then wished he hadn’t mentioned it.
Ianto had turned a little pink again, fidgeting with the cutlery, moving his presentation plate, adjusting the position of his wine glass. “Sorry about that ...” he mumbled.
Jack decided that any answer he could give would sound panicky and straw-graspy. Why were they so awkward? Where was their usual easy conversation? He was asking about his sister and commenting on the menu, for pity’s sake!
Ianto was itching to start rearranging Jack’s cutlery, so he had to think of something quick before things started getting perpendicular, adjacent and scowled-at-if-moved. “I was thinking ... while driving here ... if we get a house ... what kind of house do you want?”
“Um ... how do you mean?”
“Well, detached, semi-detached, a sweet ‘lil terraced, a cute cottage. Bungalow? No stairs does sound promising.”
“I hadn’t really thought.” Ianto bit his lip. “I just ... y’know. Figured we’d see a place and fall for it.”
“But how can we see a place and fall for it if we’re not sure what we want from the places we’ll list to look at? I mean ... what do you want the house to offer?”
Ianto shrugged, secretly thinking back to the bedroom he’d visited on his first trip bouncing around his timeline, and the sound and murmur of the party on the other side of the door. He thought back, and knew that it was an upstairs room – the window shows the boughs of a tree outside. “Not a bungalow.” he decided out loud, wondering if he’d be able to find that house, and whether or not they would end up living there and having a party with all those people around.
“Okay.” agreed Jack with a smile.
“And I want a walk in wardrobe.” he demanded, sticking his tongue out.
“If you get a walk-in wardrobe, I want a walk-in breadbin full of donuts.”
“Agreed.” Ianto held his hand out and they pretending to shake.
The waiter arrived with their wine, pouring generous amounts into each of their glasses. After he’d taken their order for food, he wandered off again.
“So ... how big will our house be?” asked Jack.
“I was thinking ... three bedrooms.” Ianto decided. “Our room, a guest room for when you annoy me and a Hub Away from Hub.”
“If we put two single beds in the guest room instead of that double, we could have David and Mica stay every now and then.” Jack suggested.
“Er ... yeah. As long as I get to stay at Rhiannon’s while they’re there.”
“You love babysitting, stop being so tight.” Jack said with a mock-eye roll.
“They’re so stressful. I never ... never really planned on having kids, to be honest.” Ianto began his arrangement of cutlery again.
Jack thought back to the way Ianto had clung and clung and desperately grabbed at the memory of the little baby he’d seen. Joshua.
Mentally, Jack shrugged. Some guys needed to become fathers before they realised how wonderful it was, and how much they wanted it. Freedom was hard to give up, but some things were worth it.
“It’s pretty inevitable you’re going to be a father at some point.” Jack pointed out.
“Not with you as my partner.” Ianto pointed out.
“Ianto ...”
“We’re going to hate each other for a few million years. I know. I’m just saying ... hopefully that’ll be a few centuries in the future – and good God, I’m measuring my life in centuries – and we’ll both be different people by then, and maybe ... I’ll want to try it. But not yet.”
“No.” Jack agreed. “... even if your mammy want –”
“What are you saying, Jack?” Ianto frowned.
“Nothing ... nothing ...” he murmured, fidgeting with his own knife and fork. He really didn’t know what he was saying. He was still buzzing that Ianto was alive, still wanted to be with him and had proposed they move in together. A proposal of sorts, at least, thought Jack.
They found themselves talking about work and how having a separate house and Torchwood would be organised.
Jack suggested having a house built on the Plass.
Ianto suggested having a house built on Jack’s ego.
Their food arrived and they ate pretty much in silence, the food too good to disturb the enjoyment of.
“I love you.” Jack whispered, pretty much mouthed, reaching over to grasp Ianto's hand across the table.
“And I love you.” Ianto mouthed back, wondering why Jack felt the need to be so quiet all of a sudden, when normally he was ... vocal. At least by Ianto's reckoning.
“I ... I’ve got something for you ...” Jack said at proper level, reaching into his pocket. “Close your eyes.” he commanded, and as Ianto did so he pulled the gift from his jacket. He snapped open the lid, and got himself ready.
“Open them.”
Ianto blinked, realising Jack had moved, then turned absolute crimson when he saw him on one knee, offering him a platinum band in a jewellery box. People all around were looking, waiting for Jack to pop the question and for Ianto to accept or decline. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodwhatthefuck? ran through Ianto's mind like a marquee.
“Ianto ...”
He’s planned this. From before I was a fixed point like him ... he’s planned this ... oh god why is he asking in front of people? Special Breakfast would have been enough ...
“... how about ... y’know ... you and me ...”
He’s doing this ... he’s actually doing this ... oh fuckingapeshitwankstain ... what do I say? Do I want to? I suppose it would happen eventually ...
“... getting a Civil Partnership?”
SAYSOMETHINGSAYSOMETHINGSAYSHOMETHING SAY.SOME.THING.
“Er ....” Ianto began. “Um ... ah ... well ...this was ... unexpecteh – alright. Yeah. Go on then.”
He found himself pulled into Jack’s arms and crushed close, lips finding his quickly and pulling back. There was a feel of cold on his fingertip as Jack rushed to push the ring onto his wedding finger, and he kept still to let it happen. He stared at it for a moment, kneeling on the floor with Jack, people around applauding and several women groaning in disappointment.
“No wonder you were so quick to say yes before ...” Ianto sighed as the excitement died down and they pulled themselves from the floor to their seats.
“Kinda took the edge off though.” Jack replied, pulling a little packet out of his jacket. A gold band slipped from it, and he handed it to Ianto. “Would you do the honours?” he smiled.
Ianto pushed the band onto Jack’s wedding finger.
They smiled at each other, deciding it would be inappropriate to make love right then, and deciding it was probably best to leave that until after dessert at least. Ianto couldn’t stop glancing at the band, aware of it on his finger even after it had warmed to his body, the metal still heavy on his hand. Jack was a little more used to it than he was.
Part way through cheesecake dessert, Ianto put his fork down mid-way to his mouth and gave Jack a slightly wide-eyed look.
“Gwen is not being my Head Bridesmaid!” he declared.
“... you’re the bride then?” Jack smirked.
“No I meant ... oh shut up. Besides, I thought we agreed I was the wife?” he scowled.
Jack simply laughed. “Why is she not being a bridesmaid?” he asked.
“Well, first off: I have Mica and David.”
“Yeah ... and who’s going to keep them in control”
“Erm ... the establishment?” offered Ianto. “It’s just ... Gwen thinks she’s my only friend. But she’s not – I mean, Rhys, Daf, Banana. Okay, more mates in Daf and Banana. I think I want Rhys to be my best man. I think one bridesmaid and one page boy would be enough. Though we’d probably call Mica the ‘flower girl’ – but I’m doing none of that rose petals in the aisle bollocks from America. We go down the aisle, then the entourage. The way it was invented. And no confetti, either.”
“Awww I like confetti!”
“I know. You’ll get it all over everywhere and we’ll find it for weeks. Besides, pigeons accidentally eat it and it expands inside them and they explode – stop smiling like that, it’s not a pro that they explode!”
“You’re funny.” Jack smiled.
Ianto rolled his eyes.
“Dammit ...” he said suddenly. “I’ve just thought of another obstacle ...”
“What?”
“How do we tell Rhys and Gwen that we’re A) engaged –”ohmigodohmigodohmigod Ianto you’re engaged to Jack Harkness ... “– and B) both ... y’know ... not killable.”
“Er ... we sit them down tomorrow?”
Ianto put his head in his hands.
“Yeah ... I can definitely see that going well. How selfish we were, choosing me instead of someone great and good and charitable. Like Bob Geldof. What’re they gonna do when he dies? Organise charity concerts of their own?”
“I know a few things about the future – pop stars ever solving world poverty wasn’t one of them. But every little helped.” smiled Jack, reaching over to brush hair from his face.
“You done with that cake?” Ianto asked, indicating the half-eaten chocolate marbled cheesecake on Jack’s plate, eyeing it hungrily. Jack pushed it towards him with an affectionate shaking of his head. Ianto will be Ianto ... he thought.
Ianto finished the cake while Jack settled the bill, then linked his arm back to the SUV, sliding their hands together and searching out the cool metal on Jack’s finger.
~*~*~*~
“Y’know ... I’ve had a pretty shit life,” Ianto sighed as they lay together in bed, sated once again, however temporarily. “and now ... it all seems worth it. Now that I’ve got you, and I know that ... I know that you’ve got me.”
He glanced up at Jack from his position, pretty much draped over Jack’s chest.
“And .... you’ve fallen asleep on me. Great.” he sighed. “Anyway ... finally. Something good’s happened for me, and for years and years and years no-one can tear us apart. Not even death anymore. You know how happy it makes me, knowing you’ll never be truly alone?” He glanced up at Jack again, but he was still sleeping, calm and smiling, face smooth and worry-free. “It makes me very happy, Jack. I feel warmer inside. And ... y’know ... even if you hadn’t picked me, I’d still be happy. The thought of you being alone ... it always hung over me. Like a shadow. And I felt guilty because one day I’d have to leave you. But knowing you had someone – even if it wasn’t me – that would have been enough for me, Jack.”
Ianto yawned widely.
“As long as you didn’t pick Gwen.” he murmured sleepily. “I think I may have gone slightly mental if you’d picked Gwen ... dunno why ... you’re bound to fall for other people even now ... but ... not Gwen, okay Jack?”
He yawned again, snuggling down and letting sleep take him.
~*~*~*~
When he awoke in the morning, he could smell the cooking of Special Breakfast floating from the kitchen, and he smiled to himself, thinking of tie-shaped toast soldiers and boiled eggs for dipping. Hot, crispy bacon. Sausages.
No beans though.
Ianto hated beans.
He furrowed his brow as he thought back to the night of sleep he’d had, playing absently with the platinum band settled on his finger. The dreams had been bipolar, ranging from horrific to daydream. He’d dreamt a strange, lithe, Weevil-like creature had eaten Jack and Gwen, but he had dreams like that all the time.
Lured by bacon, as all men were on a morning, he dragged himself out of bed, pulled on some pyjama bottoms and went to go and sit patiently in the kitchen. Jack was shirtless and hot, which just added to the aesthetically pleasing design Ianto had chosen for his little kitchen. He’d miss his flat when he went, he realised.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“Maybe would could have a little party to announce our engagement to our friends and stuff.”
Jack turned with a slightly raised eyebrow. “I don’t see why not.” he said eventually. “Oh ... by the way ... I ... I want John to be my best man.”
“John? Captain John Hart?”
“Yep. Just promise me you won’t let him talk you into getting off with him at the reception.”
“Damn. That’s one thing I’ll have to scratch off my to-do list.”
“Getting off with your future-husband’s rival? Did you borrow Gwen’s wedding day to-do list?”
“... what? You ... and Gwe – on her wedding day!” Ianto stared at him.
“Not me! The Nostravite! She thought it was me ... I found them ... alone ... peeked through the keyhole and saw myself in there ... with Gwen ...”
“Oh my God! Does Rhys know?”
“She did say there were no more secrets in her marriage when we were sat around the table at the reception.” shrugged Jack.
Ianto bit his lip. “She also never told him about Owen. Well, she did, but that didn’t count because ... erm ... doesn’t matter ...” Ianto shut himself up quickly.
“Ianto?” Jack asked accusingly. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“I can tell when you’re lying now.” Jack sighed, the minuscule signs that he would have missed had he not known Ianto so well flickering over his body.
Ianto bit his lip harder. He wouldn’t gossip. He promised he wouldn’t gossip. Would telling his future Civil Partner be gossiping? She’d probably tell Rhys ....
“GwentoldRhysaboutOwenthenretconnedhimsothathe’dforgetonlyhedidn’tforgiveherbeforetheretconknockedhimoutandshewascryingaboutitforweeksyoudidn’tknowbecausesheonlytoldmewhenIwasaskingaboutmissingretconfromthestores.”
“Sorry ... what?”
“Gwen .. told Rhys about Owen. Then she retconned him so that he’d forget, only he didn’t forgive her before the retcon knocked him out and she was crying about it for weeks – you didn’t know because she only told when I was asking about missing retcon from the stores.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. “I may have to talk to her about that ...”
“Don’t! They’re happy! Leave them! And ... I’m sure she learnt her lesson ...”
“Even though she thought it was me she was getting off with on her wedding day?”
“Leave it, or I’ll tell everyone you have a blanket named ‘The Snuggles Blanket’ and destroy your tough guy reputation!”
“You wouldn’t dare!” gasped Jack.
“Would too. Your bacon’s burning.”
Jack turned back to the stove, mulling over everything he’d just learnt. How could these things slip by him so often? And didn’t Ianto realise that retconning Rhys for such a reason counted as abuse? He sighed. At least they were happy now, even if it was a happiness built on lies.
A sense of guilt crept up over him, as he thought of all the times he’d breached twenty-first century fidelity etiquette. Even when he’d first started with Ianto – though that had very quickly dwindled, and Ianto had forgiven him. They figured what with a cybergirlfriend in the basement and a couple of quickies behind a nightclub and maybe a one night stand or two, they were even on some plane. All in the past, he decided. And so were Gwen’s sins. right now he was going to concentrate on Ianto, and Ianto's family.
“When’s your mam visiting from Australia next?” he asked. “We could have the ceremony around then.” he suggested, setting Ianto's plate down in front of him, tie-shaped toast soldiers and all.
“I’ve no idea. We may have to help her get here for the ceremony.” Ianto pondered aloud. “Let’s talk about this another time.” he decided. “Everything’s gone so fast over the past few hours. I think that’s enough change for one day.”
“Yeah.” agreed Jack. “Pass the salt?”
“Here. So ....” grinned Ianto. “Am I coming back to work today?”
“What about your coffee shop?” Jack pouted.
“I’ll get a coffee machine for the hub – oh no wait! There is one!” Ianto mock-facepalmed.
“Fine.” grumbled Jack. “Maybe another life. You can come back to work today – but you’re training Andy up on how to use the Archives. If one of you ever gets taken sick, me and Gwen need backup because we. are. useless.”
Ianto smiled affectionately. “I know.” he said. “But I love you anyway.”
FIN
YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.
and I think we all needed some good news after GN9's predictable, tropey, EPIC FAIL. And to think I liked it so much up to ep 3 ....
*just my opinion ... don't flame me fer it*
Child torture just ain't ma theng, TW writers!
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Chapter: 88
Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, the Doctor
Author:
a_silver_storyGenre Humour, smut, angst
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M.M
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: See title, really.
FIRST PART | Ianto and Gwen's IM's
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
88 |
IM | Ianto's Birthday (4)
“What do we do now?”
He knew the Doctor was stood behind him, even if he couldn’t see. Jack leant his hands on the bed, Ianto still and lifeless just inches from him. He hung his head, squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.
“We should take him to the control room,” said the Doctor quietly. “like we planned. We’ll see instantly if it worked that way.”
“I’ve had nightmares about this.” murmured Jack.
“About this?”
“About him ... dying. About the day it happens. I never thought I’d have to stand by and watch his life taken away by his own hands, doing nothing but holding him until he was gone.” Jack tutted loudly. “His hair’s a mess ... I’m no good with his hair. It never does what I tell it to ...”
“His life is in your hands, now, Jack. You can bring him back. You can save him; and you can save existence along with him.” The Doctor stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Jack squeezed it, took another deep breath and prepared to wheel the bed up to the command console.
“The TARDIS will help you,” explained the Doctor. “but only to an extent. She can’t control your will. Don’t try and bring anyone else back. The paradoxes will cancel out anything we did bringing back Ianto, and the Universe will unravel.”
“I understand that.” Jack sighed, pushing the bed, keeping near Ianto's head, pretending the young man was only sleeping. The flush in his cheeks was fading, and his skin was starting to seem clammy. Soon it would be hard to pretend he was only unconscious; his complexion will soon be pasted and waxy, his lips pale and greying. Jack tried to move faster.
“Here we go!” the Doctor tried to grin, but it didn’t quite happen.
Jack was feeling sick and nervous, running his fingers through Ianto's hair, trying to tease it into something neater. He fought back the grief, biting it down and pushing it away to be dealt with later, waiting while the Doctor muttered low to the TARDIS as he wandered around the console, running fingers over the console and finding where he was going to pull her open.
“Jack?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Ready?”
Jack nodded mutely.
“Remember: look straight into the light. It might hurt a little but ... you’ll be fine. Should be fine. It’s you. I’m sure you’ll be fine ...”
“Okay.” Jack moved closer. “Shall we count to three?”
“On three, or a second after three?”
“Whichever you feel most comfortable with.” grumbled Jack. “Just hurry up, Doctor.” He glanced over at Ianto's body and bit back annoyance at himself. Why could Jack never get Ianto's hair to behave? He only ever messed it up more ...
“One .... two .... three ....!”
The Doctor wasn’t lying.
It really did hurt.
Ouch. Aching.
Did the pins and needles happen every time?
His joints ached worse than they ever had in his entire life – he’d definitely need a massage a later, and he knew exactly who he’d want to give it to him.
He smiled to himself, then remembered where he was. The TARDIS.
The mesh metal of her floor was digging into his back, warm underneath him and humming her comfort. Odd, he thought. I don’t remember falling over ...
Everything came crashing back in an instant.
He prised his eyes open, lifting his head with aching muscles and staring around, hauling himself to a sitting position as his entire being screamed in protest of movement. Sore throat feeling like it was on fire, he forced out a croaked word:
“Doctor?”
There was a moment of silence before he got his reply.
“Over here, Jack.”
With a great effort, Jack pulled himself up. He groaned as his legs yelled out against his weight, and staggered over to where the Doctor was stood by the bed.
He was beaming.
“He woke up, went into hysterics and hyperventilated a little. But he’s fine.” He nodded down at the bed, where Ianto lay. He was pale, but breathing deeply and evenly. Tears had tracked down his cheeks.
“‘Hyperventilated a little’?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “He ... passed out ...”
“I knocked him out, actually.” The Doctor shuffled nervously. “He was panicking about you. You were in pain and he was going to kiss you and he had to be stopped. Otherwise the Vortex energy would have passed into him and lord knows what he’d try and do with it.”
“He’d try and turn the national drink of the UK from tea to coffee and make Archiving skills mandatory to the curriculum.” Jack smiled to himself, reaching out to brush a brown curl away from Ianto's face. He felt strangely calm within himself, warm and happy. Complete.
He tapped the side of Ianto's face with his palm, urging him to wake up. He smiled as a hand batted him away, and a sleepy murmur escaped Ianto's lips.
“Leave him a bit.” sighed the Doctor. “I don’t think he’s concussed ...”
“Has ... everything sorted itself?” Jack asked, smiling and playing with the buttons on Ianto's shirt.
“There was a minor ... Time hurricane. About a hundred trillion years whipped around and around while the Timey Wimey made sense of everything. Pity you missed it – it was strangely beautiful – and I now know the exact moment Johnny Depp’s age finally starts to show.”
“Mmm.” replied Jack, adjusting Ianto's tie, still smiling a little dopily.
“I think everything should be fine. Everything ... feels fine.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re fine, Ianto's fine, the TARDIS is fine, Time’s fine, I’m fine.”
“Mmhmmm.”
“Are you listening?”
“I think so.”
“Jack?”
Jack jerked his head up and looked at the Doctor. “What?”
“You weren’t listening.”
“Sorry.” said Jack sheepishly, then lowered his eyes to Ianto again. “Can I wake him up yet?”
The Doctor shrugged. The TARDIS pushed his mind a little, hinting at him to maybe leave Jack and Ianto alone for a bit. He wandered off into the corridors beyond, thinking about maybe trying to find a snazzier suit. Scruffy was fun, but snazzy ... okay he was little bit jealous of Ianto's finer tailoring. Who could deny? He looked good.
“Ianto.” Jack said, taking Ianto's hand and squeezing it, tapping the side of his face with his palm again, trying to wake him. Two bleary blue eyes narrowed at him, blinking in the light. Jack helped him sit up, and he hissed in pain, putting a hand on the back of his head as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Jack? It worked ...” he smiled, rubbing his head. “The Doctor knocked me out ... I think I got a bit hysterical ...”
“I heard.” smiled Jack, stopping him from getting off the bed and standing between his legs, hands on Ianto's hips. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone smacked me on the back of the head with a Converse All Star.” grumbled Ianto.
Jack kissed him without hesitating any longer, feeling Ianto's lips part beneath his and hot tongue press against them. Jack reciprocated, softly and gently and completely in love.
He could taste the difference already, he realised: Ianto tasted alive. More alive than ever before. Life was flowing through him, coursing his blood, pulsing through his nerves, printed into his flesh and unending and renewing and constant and forever, but in the moment and right here and now. Jack didn’t have enough thought left to wonder if Ianto tasted it in him; if he had always tasted it or could only sense it now.
It felt like hours before they parted, the TARDIS giving them her equivalent of a cleared throat, however regretful she was to interrupt them. The Doctor approached a moment or so later, peeling a Satsuma and whistling ‘Hey Jude’, black pinstripe suit, waistcoat and blue shirt with a striped black and white tie.
Ianto raised an eyebrow, looking down at his own pinstriped suit, but decided not to mention it.
“Okay Doctor, I think we’re ready to go home.” smiled Jack, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels as Ianto hopped off the bed and straightened his clothes.
“Where did I leave my jacket?” he wondered aloud, and the TARDIS sent him off in the right direction.
“Erm ... Jack? There’s something I’ve realised ...” the Doctor said as Ianto went off to retrieve his jacket.
Jack’s expression turned instantly solemn with the Doctor’s tone. “What?”
“Well ... you and Ianto are ... opposite ... y’know? Opposite sides of the axis?”
“What are you saying?”
“Well, opposites attract. It’s probably best if you don’t stray more than a couple of hundred galaxies away from each other, or you might end up feeling a bit ... nauseated. Possibly have a strange pulling sensation down your left hand side. A nagging feeling you’ve forgotten something.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sure we’ll manage to stay within a couple of hundred galaxies.”
“You say that now,” the Doctor said darkly. “just wait ‘til you start hating each other ... but anyway! Onwards! Outwards! Homeward bound!” The Doctor clapped his hands together, then hesitated. “Sure I can’t convince you to come on a quick trip?”
“I think maybe we should give Ianto a chance to settle first.” Jack smiled, and the Doctor nodded.
“Good idea ... when will that be?”
“A century and a half. Give or take.”
“Ouch. Okay.”
“Unless ... y’know ... it’s an emergency.”
“It usually is.” sighed the Doctor as they shared a smile. “Well, of you go then ...”
“Er ... yah ... I need my Ianto ....” Jack reminded him.
Ianto wandered back into the console room eventually, donning his Jacket and carrying a book.
“What’s that?” asked Jack, indicating the leather bound tome.
Ianto grinned. “A gift from the TARDIS. I’m not allowed to tell.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, pulling at his suit to see if he could get it as straight as Ianto's. For aesthetic reasons. Definitely.
“Well ... thanks, Doctor.” Ianto held his hand out, and the Doctor shook it, then moved and hugged Jack.
They stepped out of the TARDIS into Ianto's flat, and watched with their arms around each other as it faded from view, Ianto shielding his face from the draught of its departure in Jack’s neck.
“So ...” began Jack. “What did you think of him?”
“I think ... he’s still not that young.” smirked Ianto.
Jack laughed, and kept hold of him. “How’re you ... how’re you feeling?”
“Buzzy.” frowned Ianto. “A bit ... hyper?”
“That’s coming back that does that.” sighed Jack.
“Oh.” breathed Ianto. “I think ... I think I suddenly understand where you libido comes from ...” He gave Jack his wicked little smile, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I think we need to celebrate saving existence.”
“Definitely.” agreed Jack, leaning closer and kissing him back, lingering and parting his lips, letting Ianto lead him further, tasting again that surge of life within him.
“I love you.” breathed Jack.
“I know.” replied Ianto simply, and kissed him again, not waiting for the invitation before pushing his tongue forward and pulling Jack towards the bedroom.
“Ianto ...” Jack mumbled. “... Ianto ... we need to ... we need to talk ...” he managed to mutter between kisses, Ianto's lips on his cheeks, jaw-line and neck; his hands tugging Jack’s shirt out of his trousers.
“What about?” Ianto muttered back, slipping his hands under the shirt and undershirt, finally getting access to the bare flesh of Jack’s torso.
“Er ... I think we just underwent a pretty big change?” Jack reminded him, trying to concentrate as tongue and teeth nipped his collarbone and his braces had somehow disappeared. So had his belt. How had Ianto managed to get rid of his belt?
“So? We can talk later ...”
“What’s wrong with now?”
“Plenty of time.”
Ianto pushed him fully this time, and Jack sank into the round mattress and gave up his resolve as Ianto crawled up his body, pushing his t-shirt up as he went, kissing his way from waistband to collar bone.
Jack’s body was singing beneath him, tingling with anticipation as Ianto knelt up and slowly pulled the weaves of his tie loose, dropping it over the side of the bed and lowering his eyes as he began to unbutton his shirt. Jack ran his hands up Ianto's thighs as he was straddled over him, hard muscle squeezing his torso, and massaged the sensitive inner flesh as he watched the shirt pulled apart and dropped aside, too.
He traced his hands over the planes of Ianto's bare stomach, pushing his own hips upwards so that Ianto could feel his hard bulge pressing into his arse. Ianto’s head tipped back, and he drew in a deep breath, before lowering his face back to Jack, leaning forward so that their torsos were together, pressing himself down so that his own hardness would push into Jack. They moaned softly, and Ianto eased up, kissing Jack’s mouth and pulling his t-shirt off and over his head for him.
Jack rolled them, lying between Ianto's legs, hands behind his thighs and kissing him slowly, resisting the urge to grind his hips down and feel the friction. Kneeling upright, he ghosted his fingers over Ianto's chest, watching his eyes flutter closed and his skin flush, hearing his breath catch when a nipple was teased. Jack lightly touched his way down to the waistband, popping open the button of Ianto's trousers, pulling down the zip and waiting for Ianto to lift his hips so that he could take them off him.
Ianto smiled with darkened eyes as Jack leant down to kiss him again and stroke his face, and Ianto gently scratched his nails down Jack’s back, biting his bottom lip slightly. Jack moaned into his mouth, reaching down to his own waistband and popping the button open and pulling his zip down, getting his trousers off as Ianto rolled them again, tugging off Jack’s boxers.
With deep breaths and lust-filled eyes, Jack reached for Ianto's and pushed them down his thighs, curling his fingers around Ianto's cock and gently moving his thumb over the head and lightly moving his fingers up and down, almost ghosting. Ianto's head tipped back and exposed the soft flesh of his neck again, and Jack placed his other hand behind his neck to pull him down.
A small sigh escaped Ianto's lips as Jack’s mouth pressed into his neck, their erections rubbing together between them and eliciting moans and mewls that Ianto had never heard Jack make before. Lying between Jack’s legs, he pushed them into each other again, Jack gasping with need as Ianto began work on marking his pectoral, above his nipple where there was sensitive flesh. Hands were underneath him, squeezing his buttocks, pulling him apart and touching over his hole.
Jack writhed and gasped loudly, hot tongue wetly licking his chest, goose pimples rising where Ianto had left a trail of saliva. He ran his hands through Ianto's hair, trying to push his head lower, feeling the resistance and knowing that isn’t what Ianto wanted. He moaned in exasperation, pushing his hands over the planes of Ianto's back as teeth continued to nip his chest, biting a little harder and cooling after a quick flick of tongue. Jack raised his legs, his feet in the air, blood rushing down to his groin as Ianto's stomach brushed against the hard flesh of his cock.
Ianto was being torturously slow, not allowing Jack to touch himself, kissing the palm of a hand after he’d grabbed a wrist to stop it going southwards. Jack writhed as fingers touched his entrance again, simultaneous with Ianto sucking his middle finger into his mouth and thrusting his hips forward and rubbing their cocks together with beautiful sensations.
Finally, Ianto reached for the lubricant. Jack rested his claves on his shoulders while he worked, trying to concentrate on Ianto and hoping he wouldn’t peak too soon – if Ianto forced those fingers any deeper, it was highly likely.
Jack was desperate by the time he was ready, but one thought was still in his mind.
“Wait ...” he managed to gasp, and Ianto almost glared at him, then softened when he realised what Jack was suggesting. They cocooned themselves under the duvets – quickly becoming one of their favourite things to do during sex – and blocked out the rest of the world.
Jack closed his eyes in anticipation, legs spread wide, feeling the heat radiate from Ianto's body into the sensitive inner flesh of his thighs. Finally he felt it, forcing its way forward, opening his body and making it so tight at the same time. He panted and gasped, every millimetre of Ianto getting further inside him making him moan loudly, drawing his legs up and holding them behind the knees, giving Ianto a better angle to get as deep into him as possible.
Fully inside, Ianto kissed him as deep as he could, feeling the back of Jack’s throat and knowing Jack was trying to get just as deep inside him. Finally, he did what he’d been too scared to do for months. The kiss was distraction enough for Jack, though he did falter when he felt the cold, silver metal pressed into his hand.
“Wha ...?” he breathed, but Ianto silenced him with a kiss, and all became clear. Ianto had pushed a TeleComm into his hand.
Jack cried out loudly as their minds met.
“Control yourself.” Ianto whispered, his breath ghosting over Jack’s face, an inch from his own. “It’s okay ... control yourself ...”
Jack breathed and calmed, sorting through exactly what was in his head. His own experience, and Ianto's simultaneously. He was feeling and being felt, inside and around, fucking and being fucked. Loving and being loved.
“It’s too much ...” he moaned, his thoughts shorting out into nothing but feeling as Ianto moved inside him.
Ianto tested him a little at first, a few slow, smooth thrusts as he writhed and fisted the blankets beneath him, knotting them in his fingers. They were both too close to last long, and they both could sense where the other was, what the other was feeling, the pleasure coursing through them both. Jack was right; it was probably too much.
Neither was letting go though, not of the little silver Comms.
Ianto was pounding into Jack’s body as he cried out and moaned and groaned beneath him, finally coming over himself with a desperate grab for Ianto to kiss him, and they did so messily with more tongue than lips until Jack was limp, feeling the liquid heat of Ianto's orgasm inside him, burning pleasure into his body.
He gasped and flinched suddenly – Ianto did the same – staring at their hands. Where the TeleComms had been, there was a silver gooey mess and a small spire of smoke. Quickly they tossed them onto the bedside table, moaning as Ianto slipped out of Jack’s body to lie beside him and examine the burn on his hand. On both their hands.
“Oops.” sighed Jack. “I think we broke one of our favourite toys.” He slipped under Ianto's arms to feel it curl around him and squeeze his shoulder, resting his head on Ianto's chest. Both their hearts were beating incredibly fast as they calmed.
“At least you can’t distract me in libraries anymore.” smiled Ianto. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll come across something equally usable.”
“We could just hang around until the sixty-fourth century and buy a pair.” suggested Jack. “I’d try and fix those but ... they’re a bit ... gooey-fied.”
Ianto glanced over at the two puddles of silver on the bedside table. “Yah. A bit.” he agreed. They sat in silence a moment, just thinking to themselves and holding each other. “Jack?”
“Ya-hah?”
Ianto took a deep breath. “I ... I was thinking ... now that ... now that we’re both ... ‘fixed’ ... could we maybe ... while my family is st-still here ... think about the very near future, rather than forty-three centuries ahead?”
Jack nuzzled his neck. “Sure. Why? What’s on your mind?”
“Y’know ... just ... commitment.”
Jack raised his head, wide-eyed. “Like ... legal commitment ...?”
“I suppose ... kinda ...”
“Ianto ... you haven’t been a fixed point for three hours ... and you’re asking me if ...?”
“Well, it would be the next logical move.” Ianto frowned.
“Yeah. Okay then. Let’s do it.”
“Really?”
“If that’s what you want.”
Ianto grinned. “Okay. I’ll ... I’ll look in a couple of windows tomorrow.”
“Um ... right ... okayyy ...” frowned Jack.
Ianto just grinned again, letting his eyes drift closed as Jack settled back against his chest.
Jack sighed. “You could’ve at least bought me a ring first.”
Ianto nearly jumped sky high.
“WHAT?” he practically shouted, staring at Jack in shock.
Jack frowned. “Commitment ... legal commitment? You asked me literally a second ago ...”
“I meant ... that’s not what I meant!”
“Oh ...” Jack flushed. He actually flushed. Ianto was quite pink, too. “... what did you mean?”
“I meant get a house! A commitment! A house – you and me.”
“... and the legal commitment?”
“MORTGAGE!”
“Right ...” Jack bit his lip, and gently put his head back on Ianto's chest, urging him to calm down without using words. “Well, I’m all for that too.”
“Yeah ...” Ianto said, his voice shaking a little. “You thought I was asking you to ... oh ... I’d never have ... I’d never have done it like that, Jack!”
“Well, in your post-coital incoherency you were a little confusing.” Jack huffed.
“You said ‘yes’ ...” Ianto breathed.
“Anyone would say ‘yes’ to you.” Jack replied.
“That wasn’t a proposal though. It doesn’t count that you said ‘yes’.” Ianto babbled. “I was just ... a house ... getting a house ... possibly. Maybe. Near to work.”
“Yeah. And you’re going looking in estate agents’ windows.” Jack clarified for them both.
“Yep. So ... no proposal. Just ... misunderstanding.”
“Totally.” Jack agreed, again trying to get Ianto to settle, nuzzling his chest hair and kissing the flesh gently.
Ianto took his deep breaths, and closed his eyes again. “Heyyyyyyy!” he realised suddenly. “You never gave me a birthday present!” he scowled.
“Oh! What time is it?”
Ianto checked the clock on the table. “Seven. In the evening.”
“We’ve got dinner reservations at seven thirty. Get dressed!” Jack ordered, kissing his mouth quickly and getting out of bed.
“Good job I reminded you.” Ianto scowled, folding his arms.
“Well ... we did have quite a bit on ...” Jack reminded him.
“Yeah ... fair point. I think I forgot for a bit, too.” Ianto smiled, crossing over to the wardrobe and finding a new suit. Jack disappeared off somewhere while Ianto amusedly glanced over the labelling on his suits again. He decided on the Cute Suit, with a hot pink shirt and a snazzy black tie with two two-tone pink stripes just under the knot. His hair was little unkempt, and he could probably do with a shower, but right now a shower would probably take longer than it would to make the reservation, order their food, eat it and leave after dessert.
His jaw nearly hit the floor when Jack came back, and Ianto blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
He was wearing a fine-tailored, plain black three-piece suit, complete with a deep green shirt shot with silver and a matching-coloured tie.
“You’re wearing that ... voluntarily?” Ianto gaped, though couldn’t stop himself straightening the tie, regarding it closely then untying it to tie it again.
“Special occasion.” grinned Jack, allowing him to fuss over him. “Now c’mon. We’re gonna be late.”
“Oh. My. God. How long ago did you get this reservation?” Ianto asked after they’d been seated and the waiter had wandered away with their order of wine.
“A couple of months. I was ... worried we wouldn’t be able to keep it but ... well, here we are.” he grinned and shrugged. They were seated in a fairly private spot in a corner. A rather prime table.
Ianto's eyes widened at the prices in the menu. “Jack ... I know I like luxury but ... dear God, we could finance a third world country for a year with the cost of tonight!”
“I want this to be special.”
“Because you forgot last year?” Ianto asked accusingly.
Jack shuffled uncomfortably. “It was different then ... kinda. And I was dead most of the day! I did get you a card, though.”
“’Spose.” Ianto conceded, aware he might have just accidentally ruined the meal.
“The ... er ... the fish looks nice ...” Jack attempted.
“Yeah ...” Great, thought Ianto. Small talk ... this is hardly a first date ... you bloody ruined it, didn’t you, you Welsh idiot?
“So ... um ... how’s Rhiannon?”
“Holding up okay. She’s started seeing a new fella, actually. Johnny something or other. I need to check him out, actually.”
Jack raised his eyebrow.
“Not in a sexual or stalk-y ‘overprotective brother with a high-up government job’ kind of way.” he sighed. “I meant meet him and get a first impression.”
“Ahh. Okay. You’re not being very concise today.” Jack smiled, then wished he hadn’t mentioned it.
Ianto had turned a little pink again, fidgeting with the cutlery, moving his presentation plate, adjusting the position of his wine glass. “Sorry about that ...” he mumbled.
Jack decided that any answer he could give would sound panicky and straw-graspy. Why were they so awkward? Where was their usual easy conversation? He was asking about his sister and commenting on the menu, for pity’s sake!
Ianto was itching to start rearranging Jack’s cutlery, so he had to think of something quick before things started getting perpendicular, adjacent and scowled-at-if-moved. “I was thinking ... while driving here ... if we get a house ... what kind of house do you want?”
“Um ... how do you mean?”
“Well, detached, semi-detached, a sweet ‘lil terraced, a cute cottage. Bungalow? No stairs does sound promising.”
“I hadn’t really thought.” Ianto bit his lip. “I just ... y’know. Figured we’d see a place and fall for it.”
“But how can we see a place and fall for it if we’re not sure what we want from the places we’ll list to look at? I mean ... what do you want the house to offer?”
Ianto shrugged, secretly thinking back to the bedroom he’d visited on his first trip bouncing around his timeline, and the sound and murmur of the party on the other side of the door. He thought back, and knew that it was an upstairs room – the window shows the boughs of a tree outside. “Not a bungalow.” he decided out loud, wondering if he’d be able to find that house, and whether or not they would end up living there and having a party with all those people around.
“Okay.” agreed Jack with a smile.
“And I want a walk in wardrobe.” he demanded, sticking his tongue out.
“If you get a walk-in wardrobe, I want a walk-in breadbin full of donuts.”
“Agreed.” Ianto held his hand out and they pretending to shake.
The waiter arrived with their wine, pouring generous amounts into each of their glasses. After he’d taken their order for food, he wandered off again.
“So ... how big will our house be?” asked Jack.
“I was thinking ... three bedrooms.” Ianto decided. “Our room, a guest room for when you annoy me and a Hub Away from Hub.”
“If we put two single beds in the guest room instead of that double, we could have David and Mica stay every now and then.” Jack suggested.
“Er ... yeah. As long as I get to stay at Rhiannon’s while they’re there.”
“You love babysitting, stop being so tight.” Jack said with a mock-eye roll.
“They’re so stressful. I never ... never really planned on having kids, to be honest.” Ianto began his arrangement of cutlery again.
Jack thought back to the way Ianto had clung and clung and desperately grabbed at the memory of the little baby he’d seen. Joshua.
Mentally, Jack shrugged. Some guys needed to become fathers before they realised how wonderful it was, and how much they wanted it. Freedom was hard to give up, but some things were worth it.
“It’s pretty inevitable you’re going to be a father at some point.” Jack pointed out.
“Not with you as my partner.” Ianto pointed out.
“Ianto ...”
“We’re going to hate each other for a few million years. I know. I’m just saying ... hopefully that’ll be a few centuries in the future – and good God, I’m measuring my life in centuries – and we’ll both be different people by then, and maybe ... I’ll want to try it. But not yet.”
“No.” Jack agreed. “... even if your mammy want –”
“What are you saying, Jack?” Ianto frowned.
“Nothing ... nothing ...” he murmured, fidgeting with his own knife and fork. He really didn’t know what he was saying. He was still buzzing that Ianto was alive, still wanted to be with him and had proposed they move in together. A proposal of sorts, at least, thought Jack.
They found themselves talking about work and how having a separate house and Torchwood would be organised.
Jack suggested having a house built on the Plass.
Ianto suggested having a house built on Jack’s ego.
Their food arrived and they ate pretty much in silence, the food too good to disturb the enjoyment of.
“I love you.” Jack whispered, pretty much mouthed, reaching over to grasp Ianto's hand across the table.
“And I love you.” Ianto mouthed back, wondering why Jack felt the need to be so quiet all of a sudden, when normally he was ... vocal. At least by Ianto's reckoning.
“I ... I’ve got something for you ...” Jack said at proper level, reaching into his pocket. “Close your eyes.” he commanded, and as Ianto did so he pulled the gift from his jacket. He snapped open the lid, and got himself ready.
“Open them.”
Ianto blinked, realising Jack had moved, then turned absolute crimson when he saw him on one knee, offering him a platinum band in a jewellery box. People all around were looking, waiting for Jack to pop the question and for Ianto to accept or decline. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodwhatthefuck? ran through Ianto's mind like a marquee.
“Ianto ...”
He’s planned this. From before I was a fixed point like him ... he’s planned this ... oh god why is he asking in front of people? Special Breakfast would have been enough ...
“... how about ... y’know ... you and me ...”
He’s doing this ... he’s actually doing this ... oh fuckingapeshitwankstain ... what do I say? Do I want to? I suppose it would happen eventually ...
“... getting a Civil Partnership?”
SAYSOMETHINGSAYSOMETHINGSAYSHOMETHING SAY.SOME.THING.
“Er ....” Ianto began. “Um ... ah ... well ...this was ... unexpecteh – alright. Yeah. Go on then.”
He found himself pulled into Jack’s arms and crushed close, lips finding his quickly and pulling back. There was a feel of cold on his fingertip as Jack rushed to push the ring onto his wedding finger, and he kept still to let it happen. He stared at it for a moment, kneeling on the floor with Jack, people around applauding and several women groaning in disappointment.
“No wonder you were so quick to say yes before ...” Ianto sighed as the excitement died down and they pulled themselves from the floor to their seats.
“Kinda took the edge off though.” Jack replied, pulling a little packet out of his jacket. A gold band slipped from it, and he handed it to Ianto. “Would you do the honours?” he smiled.
Ianto pushed the band onto Jack’s wedding finger.
They smiled at each other, deciding it would be inappropriate to make love right then, and deciding it was probably best to leave that until after dessert at least. Ianto couldn’t stop glancing at the band, aware of it on his finger even after it had warmed to his body, the metal still heavy on his hand. Jack was a little more used to it than he was.
Part way through cheesecake dessert, Ianto put his fork down mid-way to his mouth and gave Jack a slightly wide-eyed look.
“Gwen is not being my Head Bridesmaid!” he declared.
“... you’re the bride then?” Jack smirked.
“No I meant ... oh shut up. Besides, I thought we agreed I was the wife?” he scowled.
Jack simply laughed. “Why is she not being a bridesmaid?” he asked.
“Well, first off: I have Mica and David.”
“Yeah ... and who’s going to keep them in control”
“Erm ... the establishment?” offered Ianto. “It’s just ... Gwen thinks she’s my only friend. But she’s not – I mean, Rhys, Daf, Banana. Okay, more mates in Daf and Banana. I think I want Rhys to be my best man. I think one bridesmaid and one page boy would be enough. Though we’d probably call Mica the ‘flower girl’ – but I’m doing none of that rose petals in the aisle bollocks from America. We go down the aisle, then the entourage. The way it was invented. And no confetti, either.”
“Awww I like confetti!”
“I know. You’ll get it all over everywhere and we’ll find it for weeks. Besides, pigeons accidentally eat it and it expands inside them and they explode – stop smiling like that, it’s not a pro that they explode!”
“You’re funny.” Jack smiled.
Ianto rolled his eyes.
“Dammit ...” he said suddenly. “I’ve just thought of another obstacle ...”
“What?”
“How do we tell Rhys and Gwen that we’re A) engaged –”ohmigodohmigodohmigod Ianto you’re engaged to Jack Harkness ... “– and B) both ... y’know ... not killable.”
“Er ... we sit them down tomorrow?”
Ianto put his head in his hands.
“Yeah ... I can definitely see that going well. How selfish we were, choosing me instead of someone great and good and charitable. Like Bob Geldof. What’re they gonna do when he dies? Organise charity concerts of their own?”
“I know a few things about the future – pop stars ever solving world poverty wasn’t one of them. But every little helped.” smiled Jack, reaching over to brush hair from his face.
“You done with that cake?” Ianto asked, indicating the half-eaten chocolate marbled cheesecake on Jack’s plate, eyeing it hungrily. Jack pushed it towards him with an affectionate shaking of his head. Ianto will be Ianto ... he thought.
Ianto finished the cake while Jack settled the bill, then linked his arm back to the SUV, sliding their hands together and searching out the cool metal on Jack’s finger.
“Y’know ... I’ve had a pretty shit life,” Ianto sighed as they lay together in bed, sated once again, however temporarily. “and now ... it all seems worth it. Now that I’ve got you, and I know that ... I know that you’ve got me.”
He glanced up at Jack from his position, pretty much draped over Jack’s chest.
“And .... you’ve fallen asleep on me. Great.” he sighed. “Anyway ... finally. Something good’s happened for me, and for years and years and years no-one can tear us apart. Not even death anymore. You know how happy it makes me, knowing you’ll never be truly alone?” He glanced up at Jack again, but he was still sleeping, calm and smiling, face smooth and worry-free. “It makes me very happy, Jack. I feel warmer inside. And ... y’know ... even if you hadn’t picked me, I’d still be happy. The thought of you being alone ... it always hung over me. Like a shadow. And I felt guilty because one day I’d have to leave you. But knowing you had someone – even if it wasn’t me – that would have been enough for me, Jack.”
Ianto yawned widely.
“As long as you didn’t pick Gwen.” he murmured sleepily. “I think I may have gone slightly mental if you’d picked Gwen ... dunno why ... you’re bound to fall for other people even now ... but ... not Gwen, okay Jack?”
He yawned again, snuggling down and letting sleep take him.
When he awoke in the morning, he could smell the cooking of Special Breakfast floating from the kitchen, and he smiled to himself, thinking of tie-shaped toast soldiers and boiled eggs for dipping. Hot, crispy bacon. Sausages.
No beans though.
Ianto hated beans.
He furrowed his brow as he thought back to the night of sleep he’d had, playing absently with the platinum band settled on his finger. The dreams had been bipolar, ranging from horrific to daydream. He’d dreamt a strange, lithe, Weevil-like creature had eaten Jack and Gwen, but he had dreams like that all the time.
Lured by bacon, as all men were on a morning, he dragged himself out of bed, pulled on some pyjama bottoms and went to go and sit patiently in the kitchen. Jack was shirtless and hot, which just added to the aesthetically pleasing design Ianto had chosen for his little kitchen. He’d miss his flat when he went, he realised.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“Maybe would could have a little party to announce our engagement to our friends and stuff.”
Jack turned with a slightly raised eyebrow. “I don’t see why not.” he said eventually. “Oh ... by the way ... I ... I want John to be my best man.”
“John? Captain John Hart?”
“Yep. Just promise me you won’t let him talk you into getting off with him at the reception.”
“Damn. That’s one thing I’ll have to scratch off my to-do list.”
“Getting off with your future-husband’s rival? Did you borrow Gwen’s wedding day to-do list?”
“... what? You ... and Gwe – on her wedding day!” Ianto stared at him.
“Not me! The Nostravite! She thought it was me ... I found them ... alone ... peeked through the keyhole and saw myself in there ... with Gwen ...”
“Oh my God! Does Rhys know?”
“She did say there were no more secrets in her marriage when we were sat around the table at the reception.” shrugged Jack.
Ianto bit his lip. “She also never told him about Owen. Well, she did, but that didn’t count because ... erm ... doesn’t matter ...” Ianto shut himself up quickly.
“Ianto?” Jack asked accusingly. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“I can tell when you’re lying now.” Jack sighed, the minuscule signs that he would have missed had he not known Ianto so well flickering over his body.
Ianto bit his lip harder. He wouldn’t gossip. He promised he wouldn’t gossip. Would telling his future Civil Partner be gossiping? She’d probably tell Rhys ....
“GwentoldRhysaboutOwenthenretconnedhimsothathe’dforgetonlyhedidn’tforgiveherbeforetheretconknockedhimoutandshewascryingaboutitforweeksyoudidn’tknowbecausesheonlytoldmewhenIwasaskingaboutmissingretconfromthestores.”
“Sorry ... what?”
“Gwen .. told Rhys about Owen. Then she retconned him so that he’d forget, only he didn’t forgive her before the retcon knocked him out and she was crying about it for weeks – you didn’t know because she only told when I was asking about missing retcon from the stores.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. “I may have to talk to her about that ...”
“Don’t! They’re happy! Leave them! And ... I’m sure she learnt her lesson ...”
“Even though she thought it was me she was getting off with on her wedding day?”
“Leave it, or I’ll tell everyone you have a blanket named ‘The Snuggles Blanket’ and destroy your tough guy reputation!”
“You wouldn’t dare!” gasped Jack.
“Would too. Your bacon’s burning.”
Jack turned back to the stove, mulling over everything he’d just learnt. How could these things slip by him so often? And didn’t Ianto realise that retconning Rhys for such a reason counted as abuse? He sighed. At least they were happy now, even if it was a happiness built on lies.
A sense of guilt crept up over him, as he thought of all the times he’d breached twenty-first century fidelity etiquette. Even when he’d first started with Ianto – though that had very quickly dwindled, and Ianto had forgiven him. They figured what with a cybergirlfriend in the basement and a couple of quickies behind a nightclub and maybe a one night stand or two, they were even on some plane. All in the past, he decided. And so were Gwen’s sins. right now he was going to concentrate on Ianto, and Ianto's family.
“When’s your mam visiting from Australia next?” he asked. “We could have the ceremony around then.” he suggested, setting Ianto's plate down in front of him, tie-shaped toast soldiers and all.
“I’ve no idea. We may have to help her get here for the ceremony.” Ianto pondered aloud. “Let’s talk about this another time.” he decided. “Everything’s gone so fast over the past few hours. I think that’s enough change for one day.”
“Yeah.” agreed Jack. “Pass the salt?”
“Here. So ....” grinned Ianto. “Am I coming back to work today?”
“What about your coffee shop?” Jack pouted.
“I’ll get a coffee machine for the hub – oh no wait! There is one!” Ianto mock-facepalmed.
“Fine.” grumbled Jack. “Maybe another life. You can come back to work today – but you’re training Andy up on how to use the Archives. If one of you ever gets taken sick, me and Gwen need backup because we. are. useless.”
Ianto smiled affectionately. “I know.” he said. “But I love you anyway.”
FIN
YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.
and I think we all needed some good news after GN9's predictable, tropey, EPIC FAIL. And to think I liked it so much up to ep 3 ....
*just my opinion ... don't flame me fer it*
Child torture just ain't ma theng, TW writers!
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Date: 2009-12-14 10:58 pm (UTC)So funny Doctor wanting to dress like Ianto. And the little house vs civil partnership mix up was so awesome!