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Title: Forfeit
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Explicit reference to TW 2x13 - "Exit Wounds"
Notes/Summary: Ianto receives an unexpected gift from a relative. Meditation ensues. Written for the July 5 prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
horizonssing.
I’ll wear it once, and then never again.
He can blame Owen for this if he tries hard enough. Owen who, in spite of neither needing food nor drink had badgered Ianto into stopping in at a Tesco’s in Newport on the way back from a bizarre little trip up to Cwmbran. Which was, of course, how he’d run into his aunt Ffion, and how she’d seen him in that particular shirt, and thus how certain, well-meaning members of his extended family had become aware that Ianto Jones wore pink.
God, it really is lurid, isn’t it?
Alright. Perhaps not so well-meaning.
Really, Ianto hopes Owen can see this. He knows better, but it seems unjust that the universe should be so narrow that somewhere, somehow, this moment can’t be appreciated by the appropriate parties.
Maybe I could tie Jack up with it.
But he won’t. Instead, he pairs it with a deep navy blue shirt, no jacket. The effect is striking, and Ianto stares at himself in the mirror, pleasantly surprised at how the two colors balance one another out. He strokes the tie with his fingertips. It’s actually quite good silk. A nice, bright summer tie. He thinks Jack will like it, even if it is a little more intense than Ianto would usually choose on his own.
Again, he thinks of Owen. Even at the end they’d competed and squabbled like brothers over everything, including Jack’s attention. Ianto furrows his brow and looks again at himself in the mirror. He's bested Owen yet again by transmuting something irritating into something beautiful.
Oh, you git, Owen. You clever bastard. This is a lucky shot and you know it.
With slightly shaking fingers, Ianto reaches up and loosens the tie around his neck. He slips it off, carefully folds it back up, and puts it back in the little box as if preparing it to go back on the sales rack. He puts on a favorite silver tie instead and smiles thinly in the mirror. Not quite as vibrant, but still a nice tie. Maybe tonight, if the world isn’t ending, he’ll bring Jack home and make him dinner. They could undress each other on the way to the bedroom, forget the day in each other’s skin for a little while. And then, afterwards, maybe Ianto will show Jack the tie. He’ll be suitably horrified, Jack will laugh, and whatever happens after that will be fine. Maybe he’ll even let Jack talk him into wearing it. For now, though, he gives Owen his victory and hopes somewhere, somewhen, their doctor is smiling.
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Explicit reference to TW 2x13 - "Exit Wounds"
Notes/Summary: Ianto receives an unexpected gift from a relative. Meditation ensues. Written for the July 5 prompt at
horizonssing.I’ll wear it once, and then never again.
He can blame Owen for this if he tries hard enough. Owen who, in spite of neither needing food nor drink had badgered Ianto into stopping in at a Tesco’s in Newport on the way back from a bizarre little trip up to Cwmbran. Which was, of course, how he’d run into his aunt Ffion, and how she’d seen him in that particular shirt, and thus how certain, well-meaning members of his extended family had become aware that Ianto Jones wore pink.
God, it really is lurid, isn’t it?
Alright. Perhaps not so well-meaning.
Really, Ianto hopes Owen can see this. He knows better, but it seems unjust that the universe should be so narrow that somewhere, somehow, this moment can’t be appreciated by the appropriate parties.
Maybe I could tie Jack up with it.
But he won’t. Instead, he pairs it with a deep navy blue shirt, no jacket. The effect is striking, and Ianto stares at himself in the mirror, pleasantly surprised at how the two colors balance one another out. He strokes the tie with his fingertips. It’s actually quite good silk. A nice, bright summer tie. He thinks Jack will like it, even if it is a little more intense than Ianto would usually choose on his own.
Again, he thinks of Owen. Even at the end they’d competed and squabbled like brothers over everything, including Jack’s attention. Ianto furrows his brow and looks again at himself in the mirror. He's bested Owen yet again by transmuting something irritating into something beautiful.
Oh, you git, Owen. You clever bastard. This is a lucky shot and you know it.
With slightly shaking fingers, Ianto reaches up and loosens the tie around his neck. He slips it off, carefully folds it back up, and puts it back in the little box as if preparing it to go back on the sales rack. He puts on a favorite silver tie instead and smiles thinly in the mirror. Not quite as vibrant, but still a nice tie. Maybe tonight, if the world isn’t ending, he’ll bring Jack home and make him dinner. They could undress each other on the way to the bedroom, forget the day in each other’s skin for a little while. And then, afterwards, maybe Ianto will show Jack the tie. He’ll be suitably horrified, Jack will laugh, and whatever happens after that will be fine. Maybe he’ll even let Jack talk him into wearing it. For now, though, he gives Owen his victory and hopes somewhere, somewhen, their doctor is smiling.
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