[TORCHWOOD FOUR] INBOX

[needmetodoanyattacking]

[Phone, text, email, Morse code, smoke signals for Ianto Jones]

Comments

[needmetodoanyattacking]

You’re the only man in existence that can make mutton chops look sexy.

[Leaning over to kiss Jack’s neck, Ianto finally manages to blink away the crimson haze over his vision and lingers there, kissing his jaw, his temple, leaving his nose pressed to Jack’s hair for a moment.

Jack, warm and alive. Smiling and teasing. Singing. Their child safe inside him, probably kicking him in the large intestines.

He needs the reminder, because he knows most of the history of Elisabeth—and those of her unfortunate children.]

Watching some homoerotic numbers with Death and an adult child should be fine, but…if the early lives of her children are accurately portrayed, we’ll have to skip more than a few numbers if we don’t want our boyfriend to throw his knife into the telly.

[capthardness]

[Jack snorts softly] Not to discourage your flattery, but even I admit that was a terrible look. It just looked less terrible on me than pretty much anyone else.
[He can't help tripping into Ianto's touch, even if he can still feel that edge of tension of unknown origin running under the surface. Any other time, he might feel safe in asking what's going on, but now…

Now, he's happy to let Ianto do what he's done so often and talk around the elephant, until it actually becomes a danger to others]

Why am I not surprised you actually knew something about her? [he grins, clearly pleased. He always forgets how much knowledge Ianto's gathered, not just about Torchwood but so many other things, in such a relatively short amount of time.]

It is…mostly accurate, if highly dramatized. They just show the reactions to what happened to her eldest, and Rudolf has a heartbreaking little solo when he's a boy about her being away so much, and what happened at Mayerling is shown in a lot more detail. Nothing graphic, more like ballet, but it's still--not something I've been comfortable seeing for a couple years now.

[Ianto might not have seen what happened taht New Years Eve like John, but Jack still knows he doesn't have to explain--especially since he had to write the damn report.

He's pleased to find his throat doesn't tighten with too much grief at even a sideways mention of Alex, and his soft smile is actually genuine] Mostly I've been listening to it to see if my German's still half-decent, and music helps to keep someone from kicking my ribs so much if I sit still for more than an hour.

[needmetodoanyattacking]

[Ianto meets his smile with one of his own, wondering if he will ever get used to that: the dazzling sense of triumph that comes from impressing Jack Harkness. It made the work bearable when Lisa was still in his care, worth returning to when she was gone, and his world when he started sleeping with Jack.

Him, a delinquent and a nobody from Cardiff’s fringes, holding the regard of a powerful, charismatic, bloody gorgeous man—a hero. He’s not sure he will ever get over it much less get used to it—and that’s without the whole second gorgeous boyfriend and a baby on the way.

Ianto stoops properly to hug Jack around the shoulders from behind. This time, when his vision turns red, it doesn’t upset him as much—not when Jack is in his arms and he knows he’s ready for what’s coming.]

I was thinking more about her mother in law and the children—but that as well.

[He pauses to lean over Jack’s shoulder a little, dropping a hand to rest on his stomach.]

And you be nice. I’m the only father you should be assaulting.

[A tiny foot immediately bumps against his palm through skin, making him laugh.]

That’s a good girl. Smack your tad, not your daddy.