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Title: "Two If By Freight"
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: Ianto/Andy, Jack/Ianto, possibly Jack/Ianto/Andy.
Rating/Notes: PG-ish. Tame, bordering on crack, and yet still excessively kinky. Positively unsafe, actually. Do not try this at home. Also, this is entirely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rm's fault. Really.
Summary: Ianto's off to Glasgow, but he's not going alone.
Ianto scowls at the clipboard and mutters quietly to himself as he goes over the checklist again. The crate in his front room is only just narrow enough to fit through his front door (he tested it yesterday), and he’s already loaded it onto the hand cart so that the lorry driver can make quick work of it.
“Okay. I think that’s everything. Provided nobody looks inside, or notices an irregularity with the paperwork, he should arrive at the guest house in Glasgow tonight.” He puts the clipboard down on top of a low bookcase and reaches for his coffee.
“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” Jack says, his expression mixed. “I mean, it isn’t as if we can’t afford a second ticket.”
“Torchwood could afford the whole bloody train if we wanted it,” Ianto replies archly. “No, it’s the principle of the thing. Just because I’m taking him away with me on business doesn’t mean I want him getting ideas about his place.”
Jack shakes his head. “You're a pervert. I think you’ve engineered this whole thing with Tartan Archie just so you can have sex with someone who’s been through the post.”
“Freight, actually,” Ianto says, and picks up the clipboard. “I’m sending him as a pet. In fact, I’m considering having him sleep on the floor the whole time we’re away, just to maintain the aesthetic. You’d like, that, wouldn’t you, Andy?”
There’s a muffled noise of assent from inside the crate.
“See? There’s a good boy.” He rests his hand on the wood fondly, then turns to face Jack again. “He’ll only be in there for a few hours, and he’ll have the days to himself. Well, unless I decide he needs a bit of extra discipline. Did you know the guest house has open ceilings?”
“Careful,” Jack warns. “I’m starting to get ideas.”
Ianto raises an eyebrow, but the corners of his mouth twitch into a wicked little smile. “Well, you’ll have a whole week and a half to perfect them. Anyway,” he says with a quick look at his watch, “I should be off. All the paperwork is on the clipboard, and I’ve given them your mobile number as a secondary emergency contact.”
“Good. I can’t wait for the police to get involved,” Jack teases as he pulls Ianto close. “Though technically, considering who’s in the crate –”
“See? Already taken care of,” Ianto says with a grin. “I’m quite thorough.”
Jack cups Ianto’s face in his hands and they kiss, slow and familiar. “Yes you are. Now go on or you’ll miss your train.”
Ianto picks up his suitcase. “See you next Friday,” he says to Jack, and then taps on the crate. “And I’ll see you in Glasgow.”
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: Ianto/Andy, Jack/Ianto, possibly Jack/Ianto/Andy.
Rating/Notes: PG-ish. Tame, bordering on crack, and yet still excessively kinky. Positively unsafe, actually. Do not try this at home. Also, this is entirely
rm's fault. Really. Summary: Ianto's off to Glasgow, but he's not going alone.
Ianto scowls at the clipboard and mutters quietly to himself as he goes over the checklist again. The crate in his front room is only just narrow enough to fit through his front door (he tested it yesterday), and he’s already loaded it onto the hand cart so that the lorry driver can make quick work of it.
“Okay. I think that’s everything. Provided nobody looks inside, or notices an irregularity with the paperwork, he should arrive at the guest house in Glasgow tonight.” He puts the clipboard down on top of a low bookcase and reaches for his coffee.
“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” Jack says, his expression mixed. “I mean, it isn’t as if we can’t afford a second ticket.”
“Torchwood could afford the whole bloody train if we wanted it,” Ianto replies archly. “No, it’s the principle of the thing. Just because I’m taking him away with me on business doesn’t mean I want him getting ideas about his place.”
Jack shakes his head. “You're a pervert. I think you’ve engineered this whole thing with Tartan Archie just so you can have sex with someone who’s been through the post.”
“Freight, actually,” Ianto says, and picks up the clipboard. “I’m sending him as a pet. In fact, I’m considering having him sleep on the floor the whole time we’re away, just to maintain the aesthetic. You’d like, that, wouldn’t you, Andy?”
There’s a muffled noise of assent from inside the crate.
“See? There’s a good boy.” He rests his hand on the wood fondly, then turns to face Jack again. “He’ll only be in there for a few hours, and he’ll have the days to himself. Well, unless I decide he needs a bit of extra discipline. Did you know the guest house has open ceilings?”
“Careful,” Jack warns. “I’m starting to get ideas.”
Ianto raises an eyebrow, but the corners of his mouth twitch into a wicked little smile. “Well, you’ll have a whole week and a half to perfect them. Anyway,” he says with a quick look at his watch, “I should be off. All the paperwork is on the clipboard, and I’ve given them your mobile number as a secondary emergency contact.”
“Good. I can’t wait for the police to get involved,” Jack teases as he pulls Ianto close. “Though technically, considering who’s in the crate –”
“See? Already taken care of,” Ianto says with a grin. “I’m quite thorough.”
Jack cups Ianto’s face in his hands and they kiss, slow and familiar. “Yes you are. Now go on or you’ll miss your train.”
Ianto picks up his suitcase. “See you next Friday,” he says to Jack, and then taps on the crate. “And I’ll see you in Glasgow.”
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