In search of distraction
Characters: Jack Harkness and Eric Northman
Rating: NC-17
Trigger Warnings:Probably vampire-type stuff Strong s/m
Location: Fangtastic/Jack's den
Day and Time: Thursday 7 July, late evening
Status:Closed Abandoned
It took Jack three days to make it to Eric's for whatever comfort – or at least distraction – he could offer from his ongoing fight with Ianto. Initially, he'd pretty much tried to tough it out on his own. He wasn't in the mood to have to talk about things. Mal had been fantastic in that respect, offering his couch for the night and then, in the morning, helping him get a mattress finally into his den so at least he could sleep there, even if it didn't have a bathroom, or anywhere to cook. Not that cooking was a problem – he had enough credit to eat out in the diner – but it did mean he had to sneak back to the cottage a couple of times for a shower. Still, he had a place to call his own, where he could just be himself without worrying about someone else, and he told himself that was all he needed. He really wasn't in the mood for company.
By the end of the third day spent pretty much alone, though, he'd had enough. Both jailhouse and den were as finished as they could be (bar finding someone to install a shower in his den) and he'd run out of distractions.
Time for distraction of a different nature. He washed off the grime of the day as well as he could with just a single tiny basement cloakroom (toilet and basin) for facilities, and crossed the street to the back of Fangtastic, hoping Eric would be there. Opening the back door to the club, he stuck his head in and called, "Eric? You there?"
Rating: NC-17
Trigger Warnings:
Location: Fangtastic/Jack's den
Day and Time: Thursday 7 July, late evening
Status:
It took Jack three days to make it to Eric's for whatever comfort – or at least distraction – he could offer from his ongoing fight with Ianto. Initially, he'd pretty much tried to tough it out on his own. He wasn't in the mood to have to talk about things. Mal had been fantastic in that respect, offering his couch for the night and then, in the morning, helping him get a mattress finally into his den so at least he could sleep there, even if it didn't have a bathroom, or anywhere to cook. Not that cooking was a problem – he had enough credit to eat out in the diner – but it did mean he had to sneak back to the cottage a couple of times for a shower. Still, he had a place to call his own, where he could just be himself without worrying about someone else, and he told himself that was all he needed. He really wasn't in the mood for company.
By the end of the third day spent pretty much alone, though, he'd had enough. Both jailhouse and den were as finished as they could be (bar finding someone to install a shower in his den) and he'd run out of distractions.
Time for distraction of a different nature. He washed off the grime of the day as well as he could with just a single tiny basement cloakroom (toilet and basin) for facilities, and crossed the street to the back of Fangtastic, hoping Eric would be there. Opening the back door to the club, he stuck his head in and called, "Eric? You there?"