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notjusteyecandy (notjusteyecandy) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,
@ 2009-04-08 23:37:00

Entry tags:

complete, day five, ianto jones, jack harkness

Day Five: Your coffee, sir
Who: Ianto and Jack
When: Day Five, early morning
What: Ianto brings coffee. Because that is what he does.
Where: Jack's room
Rating: PG so far...
Status: Complete

Ianto had thought he'd seen Jack at the ball, through the swirl crowds of laughing or angry or imperturbable costumed revellers. But he couldn't find him in the end, and he'd refrained from knocking on Jack's door. It was too late at night, and he didn't want to give the wrong impression.

Pfft. Impression. Ianto didn't have a clue what kind of impression he wanted to give. On the one hand, he wanted to grab Jack by his greatcoat lapels and snog him senseless. On the other.... well, dammit, he wanted to be courted. Or at least bought dinner. While he didn't disbelieve Jack's story that they came from different points in their timeline, he also didn't want to skip all the stuff that he had clearly missed, even if Jack had indeed lived through it. Ianto wanted more than that.

Some habits were hard to break, though, and so at 8 a.m. sharp he rapped upon Jack's dormitory door, steaming mug of coffee in hand to present to his captain.

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ex_notethest397
2009-05-04 10:28 pm UTC (link)

Jack blinked once, then twice as Ianto stepped away from Jack. The hell? He was stuck in place, watching Ianto back away towards the door, eyes flicking back and forth between the Welshman and the now abandoned cup of coffee. "Yes, I remember," Jack muttered, almost toeing at the floor uncomfortably. Hell, he was having flashbacks to that night each time Ianto pulled away from them. "If anything that's the time when you cling to those you know," Jack replied. "When you don't know how things should be winding up."

And god that wink. Jack was really supposed to let Ianto go after that? Somehow he managed to not go after Ianto and snog him senseless. "I--" Jack had barely gotten the word out when Ianto had left. Sighing and looking like a wounded puppy, Jack retreated to the coffee cup and his bed, drinking down the last of the dark liquid.

Fucking men.

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