[Ianto stills at that revelation—but he doesn’t balk. He doesn’t flinch or even breathe differently.
He’s surprised—but he’s not shocked.
Before Lisa, he heard more than he ought to have. Invisibility had its perks, and of course the team always made jokes about Jack’s crazy stories. Some of which did turn out to be true—not many, but a couple, and far sweeter in reality. The alien who was living flame? Actually made of light, and just a friend he was bonding with—sex was taboo in intimate relationships among her people. The wild night with Sasquatch? Actually a remnant of the carny—lovely young man with hypertrichosis who later found love with a man who shared the condition.
This…he never expected to be one of the real ones, but he knows enough to avoid a more visceral reaction.
Ianto’s hand slips out from under Jack’s to cover it, this time securely meshing their fingers and pressing them solidly against his midsection. He noses at Jack’s temple, speaking softly against his skin.]
That’s not in your file.
[More meaningless, leading chatter—but Ianto is definitely holding him just a little bit tighter, trying to fight the cold, horrified, aching thing sitting at the base of his sternum, threatening to freeze the air right out of his lungs.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-11-26 10:08 pm (UTC)He’s surprised—but he’s not shocked.
Before Lisa, he heard more than he ought to have. Invisibility had its perks, and of course the team always made jokes about Jack’s crazy stories. Some of which did turn out to be true—not many, but a couple, and far sweeter in reality. The alien who was living flame? Actually made of light, and just a friend he was bonding with—sex was taboo in intimate relationships among her people. The wild night with Sasquatch? Actually a remnant of the carny—lovely young man with hypertrichosis who later found love with a man who shared the condition.
This…he never expected to be one of the real ones, but he knows enough to avoid a more visceral reaction.
Ianto’s hand slips out from under Jack’s to cover it, this time securely meshing their fingers and pressing them solidly against his midsection. He noses at Jack’s temple, speaking softly against his skin.]
That’s not in your file.
[More meaningless, leading chatter—but Ianto is definitely holding him just a little bit tighter, trying to fight the cold, horrified, aching thing sitting at the base of his sternum, threatening to freeze the air right out of his lungs.]