#blipintiime; i spent my whole life running then one day all of the sudden there was you

[cxptained-archived]

I rise from the dead to write some janto cute for @blipintiime​.

                        Torchwood don’t stray  F A R  from Cardiff. They’re quite content with their little pocket of the universe that seems to have more problems than anywhere else on earth, thank you very much. Cardiff and its surrounding areas at a push. SWANSEA, maybe? Either way. Never far. Never for long. 

Until tonight. It’s not a full team mission. It might be. The others are on back up - though lord knows if the M4 was anything to go by it would take them hours to get here if they called - but primarily they’re on their own. Not a problem for them, of COURSE. Torchwood is still Torchwood no matter the quantity. However, Jack and Ianto have found themselves nestled somewhere in the flatlands of Norfolk. It’s not too unlike Wales. There’s a  s i m i l a r  amount of sheep. It’s quite a lot flatter though. And the sign posts aren’t in two languages. 

Safe to say though, Norfolk isn’t somewhere close to Wales. No, it finds itself on the opposite side of the United Kingdom in fact. Far, far away from their beds. Not to worry, because Jack’s booked them a room in a LOVELY bed and breakfast nearby to their mysterious alien sightings.

It’s late when the two of them traipse in that night. They’ve been on the hunt for their suspected creature, on their feet, tracing signs and signals galore but as of yet... no luck. All Jack really wants to go to bed and rest. He’s  i m m o r t a l.  Doesn't need to sleep to survive but recently his body has gotten used to sleeping more nights often than not with his partner. He finds his body has fallen into SOMEWHAT of a pattern, requiring to go to bed at a certain time of night each and every night. It’s nice, almost. 

So Jack checks them in, ignoring the look the elderly woman on the desk seems to give them. Out in the countryside their opinions probably  D I F F E R.  Twenty first century humans and their aversion to anything slightly out of the norm. Just because two guys are sharing one bed doesn’t mea--

As the door swings open, Jack’s train of thought promptly comes to an end.

                                                 Oh.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Right.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

                                                                                    That’s why she was staring at them.

Jack already KNOWS this is the last time he gets to do anything organisational before a mission away. Before them, in this quaint little cottage style hotel is one singular, somehow smaller than their original bed in the Hub, bed. It’s  T I N Y,  made up with a lovely looking duvet he must admit and what could possibly be the comfiest, most   e n t i c i n g  looking mattress he’s EVER seen.

                         “Well.” Jack starts as he cocks an eyebrow. A slight wiggle of the head in what seems to be deliberation as he drops his rucksack onto the ground. “Time to cosy up?” He says, gaze turning to Ianto quite quickly. Jack has very little problems with this scenario - of course. 

A wink and Jack’s already taking off his coat and slinging it HAPHAZARDLY over the chair in the corner of the room. He’s sure he can feel Ianto’s eye roll burn into the back of his head while his back is turned. It’s a cute place though, they  h a v e  to admit. Wooden floorboards and beams running across the ceiling. A tiny window with shutters on the outside and a quaint armchair with a lovely lace cushion to match. It’s sweet. 

The captain sits on the edge of the bed and kicks off his shoes. He’s not tidy at the best of times but when he’s TIRED, he’s almost ten times worse. Those shoes stay wherever they’ve landed. Jack will find them in the morning. And instead his fingers will find the buttons of his shirt. 

                       “Takes me back to the OLD days.” He says, the way someone would start a story that took place perhaps a decade ago. Jack however is talking only a couple of months. He refers to   T H E I R  old bed. Jack’s tiny quarters inside the Hub, only really made for one. They’d moved to a bigger room a little while ago now. A normal double bed available and enough room to live comfortably as a pair. It had signified the beginning of a PROPER relationship if nothing else. 

Once Jack is undressed, deciding to spend the night simply in his boxers - he lays himself down. He watches as Ianto approaches the bed, and see’s the way his boyfriend attempts to formulate a PLAN. The cogs are visible as they whir in his brain and try to find the best way to fit themselves in this bed. After a few moments Jack becomes impatient. 

A hand sticks out from the bed, fingers wrapping around Ianto’s wrist and with a swift TUG, pulls the younger man on top of him completely. Jack grins up at his welshman, eyes lighting up mischievously despite the exhaustion behind them. It takes a  m o m e n t  more of wriggling before Jack has to the duvet comfortably on top of them both.

                       “Seemed like it was the ONLY way, don’t you think?” Jack teases lightly. 

This is not the first time the two had navigated a too small bed. The Hub had provided it’s challenges for the first month or so of their relationship. The two are more than USED to these kinds of sleeping arrangements 

They chat for a while. A few quips here and there about Jack’s LACK of ability to do much of anything right unless it’s taking down an alien species. Jack watches the way that Ianto’s eye crinkle at the edges as he smiles. Takes in the way his eyes shine in such the brightest of blues. Feels how Ianto’s heart beats in TANDEM with his own as the welshman lays across his chest. 

After a while, the pair have grown silent. The lights have been turned off and there’s little movement from the man on top of him.

                       “Asleep?” Jack whispers into the darkness. He wouldn’t be surprised if he were.

“No.” Ianto answers in return. Jack feels his head shift against his shoulder, obviously looking up towards his partner in some capacity. 

                       BLINDLY, the captain moves his hand slowly, until fingers connect with soft skin of Ianto’s cheek. He slides them across gently,  e n c o m p a s s i n g  his boyfriend's face after a moment and drawing him in.

The kiss that follows is soft and tender. Lips graze against each in what feels like slow motion as they take breaths at the PERFECT moments and meet once again without confusion. Jack, in the dark, can take every moment to simply memorise how Ianto FEELS against his body rather than how he looks.

                                   THOUGH THAT’S PRETTY PERFECT TOO.

There’s a weight against his chest of Ianto’s body on top of his own that grounds him so perfectly. Their legs have TANGLED together without meaning too. Jack’s arms have found themselves crossed and draped over his boyfriend’s back. Once they break apart as a gently as they have come together, Ianto’s hair  t i c k l e s  Jack’s nose as his head goes down, and there’s a nose that doesn’t belong to him, pushed into the crook of his neck. 

Jack will, in his DARKEST moments, remember this night. 

And, as he feels the Welshman grow a little heavier against him as sleep takes a hold, he will remember not what it felt like to LOVE Ianto Jones - but what it felt like to be loved BY him. 

                                               A perfect man.

                                                                                               HIS perfect man. 

[cxptained-archived]

10 Year Anniversary of the Death of Ianto Jones Drabble;

                           It’s been ten years to the day since Jack lost Ianto Jones. For a while Jack tried to push the date out of his mind. He didn’t want any part of it. He didn’t want to remember it. It hurt too much. But every time his mind drifts back to conversations with the young Welshman. Phrases float up and it hits him with the strongest sense of guilt.                                                   Blip in time.                                                                              Don’t forget me.

If Jack doesn’t remember the date, if he doesn’t burn that painful number deep down in his mind, then that’s what Ianto will become. Nothing more than a speck in his memory. Nothing to ground him to what he was. Jack can’t let that happen. He refuses.

When Ianto Jones first died, Jack lost himself. You see, there’s a lot of Ianto-Glue that holds together Jack Harkness. It’s invisible but it’s the strongest glue in the universe. It fills in the cracks left by two thousand years of torture, heart-break and wrong doings. Make no mistake there’s Jack-Glue holding together Ianto too but that now lays to rest six feet under the ground. Jack won’t ask for it back. Even if death that piece of him still belongs to Ianto.

Jack left Earth after Ianto died. There was nothing for him here. Jack lost a man he loved harder than anyone else. He arrived at Torchwood Three for the Doctor. He stayed for Ianto Jones. And why stay now? When the Doctor no longer needed him and his one true reason for remaining here was never coming back? So, Jack ran.                                          He could run forever if you let him.

Jack never slowed down - not for years.  He ran to every corner of the universe, every second of time. He screamed Ianto Jones’ name into the ether, letting it resonate with every colony, every species that he found. Ianto Jones would never be forgotten. Even if Jack himself grew old and feeble. Even if he lived so long everything was a blur. There would be an echo of Ianto’s name around the universe for everyone alike to hear. Perhaps as Jack grew old he would hear those echoes. Perhaps he wouldn’t remember a face or feel his touch but he’d hear a name in a voice so familiar. And he would know to remember it for the rest of his life.

After his voice was hoarse and there was no breath left in his lungs Jack found himself a quiet corner of the universe if there was such a thing. He stands in an open field, looks out onto the horizon and raises his Webley. Jack seems to linger, a little nervous perhaps, before pressing the barrel to his head.

                         He pulls the trigger.

                                                                             BANG.

                                                                                                       Jack drops dead.

Seconds later he gasps for air, flailing where he lays, hands grabbing out for someone that will never be there again. He raises his weapon again in shaking hands.

                         BANG.

Jack dies once more.

The cycle repeats over and over and over.

                         BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

Reload.

                         BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

What part of him drives this? What is his brain thinking?

Well, and perhaps this is the heart-breaking part, he hopes that one of these deaths may be his last. Maybe his number will run out. Maybe his body can only regenerate so many times in a short space of time. Maybe he’ll stay dead long enough that he gets a glimpse of that beautiful face that left him behind. Maybe he’ll stay long enough to receive a kiss.

                                                                             It never works of course.

After that Jack just keeps running. It’s years in the end. Years of mindless running head first into danger. Years of pain that didn’t need to be caused. Years of recklnessness.

Eventually he comes home.

                         The Hub is rebuilt.

                                                       He reunites with Gwen.

                                                                                                       Normality.

Except it never can be. There are ghosts in this Hub. It doesn’t matter that it was re-built. It doesn’t matter that technically these ghosts have never seen these surroundings. There’s an Owen in the med-bay, a Tosh babbling at her desk, and a Ianto in the tourism office. They won’t let themselves be forgotten, will they?

And now, ten years on from the day he lost Ianto Jones, he finds himself sitting by a certain grave with a bunch of flowers in his lap. The first time he’s been able to bring himself to do so.

                         “It’s been a while.” Jack says from where he sits cross legged by the headstone. He’s been sitting there for a while now but this is the first time he can bring himself to speak. “I’m about to do a lot of talking and I know we didn’t actually do a lot of that when you were around. Which means there are a lot of words to catch up on so I’m going to need you to stay quiet, alright? Shouldn’t be hard to do.” He forces out a chuckle. The tears are already springing forward into his eyes.

                         “Ianto Jones you were special.” Jack nods. “I… refused to let anyone into my life over the years. The pain of losing people didn’t seem worth getting close to them. I vowed to myself, Ianto I really did, I vowed I would never let myself love someone ever again. I didn’t exactly bargain for you.”

There’s a long pause after that. Jack looks down at his lap.

                         “I love you. There I said it.” Jack nods determinedly, nostrils flaring as tears start their journey down his cheeks. “Sorry it took ten years to say. Doesn’t mean I didn’t back then though. I did love you. I just wasn’t ready to let myself. Guess I shouldn’t have waited so long, huh?”

Another pause and Jack doesn’t know what to say. They never talked about this kind of thing before, it’s even harder now when one half can’t talk back. Jack lets his head tip forward into his hands, his palms dragged down his face as he mentally kicks himself for not having prepared something beforehand.

                         “You probably just want me to spit it out right? Or by now you would have told me to shut up and you would have kissed me just a bit harder than necessary—not that I’d complain.” It’s a laugh now, as he raises his head again and focuses his eyes on the gravestone with a sigh.

                         “I wanted to thank you Ianto Jones, that’s really all. A lot of rambling to get there I realised but it’s hard to turn on the charm when I can’t see your face.” Jack smiles sadly. “Thank you. For everything. For being you. I didn’t want anyone knowing about me you see Ianto. I… used to be afraid. Horribly afraid. That maybe if people knew I couldn’t die that they wouldn’t care about me. Got proved once or twice in the past and after that I kept it secret. You were one hell of an exception to that rule Ianto Jones. I am immortal-- and you’d still throw yourself in front of me. You’d still be there when I died. You were so… incredibly caring Ianto. I couldn’t quite believe my luck.                          “So I told you more. I told you about my life, about the Time Agency, about every trip with the Doctor. I told you stories that will never see the light of day again. They will die with you Ianto, and that’s okay. That’s the way it should be.” Tears are streaming down his face now. Jack doesn’t bother to wipe them away.

                         “I was afraid of love. I was scared to let myself get close to someone but with you I couldn’t help myself. It was like something pulled me towards you. Something that wouldn’t let go until I could call you mine. Being immortal isn’t easy—though you could argue being dead is probably harder. I won’t fight you on that. But I know that everyone I get close to will leave. One way or another.” A sob. It chokes him. His voice from now one is broken and tired. He breathes heavily through sniffs but doesn’t once wipe those tears away. Ianto deserves these emotions.

                         “But you were so worth it, Ianto. You were worth every pain in this universe. And we should have had so long together. A good fifty years to go.” Jack cries. “I was going to watch you grow old. I was going to tease you about going grey. I was going to be there, Ianto, and you were going to be the first one in thousands of years that I let myself do that with. I promise you that.”

Jack’s face is streaked. His eyes bright red and puffy. Finally, he gets to his feet. The flowers are taken from his lap and placed by the headstone of the grave. He allows himself some time to stare at the inscription before taking a step backwards.

A shaky breath is taken as his mouth moves to form words. None of them are right so he fumbles silence for a moment before he sobs loudly and finally speaks.

           “I want you come home, Ianto Jones.”                                                                              He begs.

                                                                                                       “Please…”

[cxptained-archived]

Ianto says “don’t forget me”

Jack says “never could”

                       But honestly? Do you know how LONG Ianto runs through Jack’s mind? How many times he sleeping with other people and he mind immediately goes back to his Welshman? How many times he’s kissing someone only to see Ianto’s face every time he closes his eyes?  How many times Jack’s sat drunk in a bar, wondering if THIS is what Ianto would have wanted him to do? Crying cause he doesn’t know whether Ianto would be disappointed in the way he’s treating himself or whether he’d understand?

And after a while he goes to the end of the universe. He sits there and he watches. Watches everything crumble beneath him and wishes he could be PART of it. Because if he believed in Heaven he could be joining him in that moment. 

It’s then that he tries to kill himself. He KNOWS it won’t work. Of course he knows. But it doesn’t stop him from trying. Every time it takes a little longer to revive he’s hopeful. Maybe his immortality will just run out. Maybe his soul, his mind... his anything can be tricked? Maybe, if only for FIVE MINUTES, he can get to wherever Ianto went after he died before his body works.

                                                   He gives up years later.

Jack doing everything in Ianto’s honour after that. Every good thing he does from then on he puts a little bit of Ianto Jones into. Every MARK he makes is in Ianto’s name. He does things Ianto would have wanted to do. Made decisions Ianto would have wanted him to make.

He’ll make the world a better place and call out IANTO JONES’ name into the wilderness because as long as he’s out there doing good things, Ianto Jones can’t be forgotten. Jack gives the names to future civilisations. Tells them to pass it around. 

                        Jack Harkness makes it so if HE can’t forget the most important man that ever entered his life, the universe won’t either.

[cxptained-archived]

Headcanon;

                          Jack seems like the type of person who could easily be interpreted as your manly-man, very unemotional however that is not the case. He comes across as ‘strong man with a gun’. He’s all leadership. He’s decision-making. He’s having a hot temper and a level head all in one go.

Jack Harkness is never talking about your emotions. RIGHT?

He doesn't once say I love you to Ianto Jones. He doesn’t ONCE admit feelings about their relationship out loud - not properly out loud. But as Ianto puts it “I know you love me... at least I think you do.” 

Jack has REASONS for not verbalising that love. He’s afraid of doing so. He’s afraid of saying it because he knows how quickly it is often ripped away from him. Being immortal is not something that lends itself to long term relationships, is it? Jack doesn’t say I love you because he’s protecting himself but he never NEEDS to say it.

We can see that Jack loves Ianto just from the look on his face. From day one of knowing the welshman, Jack was a little bit fucked. Then in Cyberwoman we see him crying at the thought of Ianto being dead  (and that's after Jack has just discovered Ianto has betrayed and manipulated him from the very beginning), in Countrycide the anger on his face is 100% because they messed with the people he loves. In End of Days, the way he clings to Ianto after reviving is desperation to be close to the person he trusts, in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang when he returns it’s a look to Ianto when the words he says don’t connote the meaning.

Jack doesn’t do words to show his emotions but he never for ONCE hides them away. 

Captain Jack Harkness never says I love you but he wears his heart on his sleeve every single day.

[cxptained-archived]

“  you’ve  been  mostly-dead  all  day.  ” 

@blipintiime​ | bet you thought I’d never do one of these

                          “I’m sorry. Left you with some PAPERWORK, did I?” Jack snips with a raised eyebrow. “Next time I’ll let you take the gunshot to the head and I’LL write my name on the bottom of some paper?” He groans as he emerges from their quarters for the first time that day. He died at ten that morning. It’s now around four in the afternoon, most of the team were winding down for the day but Jack’s death had caused such the - quite literal - headache that he’d simply been downstairs with his face BURIED into a pillow and the lights off.

Clearly, it still hasn’t gone away since Jack is not sporting his usual coat, he’s forgone a proper button up shirt for a  B A S I C  white t-shirt and his hair remains to be sticking up at all angles. Not to mention the snapping. 

Jack sinks into the chair behind his desk and lets his head fall into his hands. “Just throw it over here. I’ll do the rest.” He grumbles, American accent  s o m e h o w  thicker while his voice is muffled by palms. 

[cxptained-archived]

does your heart ever do the thumpy thumpy while talking about your favourite ships with your favourite people cause mine sure fucking does

[cxptained-archived]

001.

@blipintiime | soft touch meme001: grab their hand

                        “I cannot BELIEVE you would do something so reckless that would put your team at risk, Gwen Cooper!” 

Jack’s yelling in his office. And not just a little. Not just in frustration at a situation gone south. This is full on a team member fucked up and there were dire consequences kind of yelling. Gwen, for all it’s worth, is not backing down. She squares up to their team leader with fire in her eyes that Jack recognises all too well. If ONE of them doesn’t leave it be soon, this argument will be going all night.

“That was not YOUR decision to make. It was stupid and childish and naive.” Jack scolds, jabbing a finger in her direction. “We have a leader for a reason. We have a ranking for a REASON. You would do well to remember that.”

                       Spit flies as the anger in the room builds. Gwen bites back just as hard. Her words have Jack recoiling if only for a second. This isn’t the first time Jack’s argued with a team member about decisions out on the field… this isn’t the time Jack’s argued with GWEN about decisions out on the field. Two hot-headed individuals who’s moral compasses often point in opposite directions. It was bound to end in a fight more times than not. 

But this one feels PERSONAL. Both parties argue their case from somewhere deep down in their souls and the anger in Jack’s eyes is one seen often but never directed at his own team mates. Even when he’s yelling himself hoarse about some way or another that they screwed up that day it’s never THAT look in his eye.

Jack’s about to retaliate with his own points once again but someone grabs his hand. It jolts Jack for just a  s e c o n d , flinging him out of his rage straight into confusion. For a moment his mouth opens again, about to exclaim who the hell thinks now is the time?

                       Luckily, his body twists but he doesn’t need to see who’s standing just behind him to know who’s hand that is - not when he takes a deep breath and a split second to realise. THAT’S IANTO’S HAND. Jack could recognise it anywhere of course; he’s SURE there isn’t a single part of Ianto’s body that could touch Jack’s own without the captain knowing who it belonged to.

The moment Jack’s eyes lock onto Ianto’s he can feel that frustration leaving him. It’s a slow process as he takes a deep breath but the anger deflates into simple disappointment at his team. Because the way Ianto GRASPS onto his hand, the way his eyes implore his captain to just calm down…. Jack can’t go against those unspoken feelings. It would be impossible.

The captain squeezes Ianto’s hand and as he turns back to Gwen he DOESN’T let go.

“Go home. Spend the night with Rhys on the sofa. And come back tomorrow with a clear head, alright?” Jack orders her firmly but much quieter than the rest of their conversation. For a moment she doesn’t leave, continuously ready to fight her case again if necessary but when Jack’s voice drops, she almost knows it’s a lost cause. With a nod and harsh swallow she takes her leave and exits the captain’s office.

                                               The two men are left alone.

Jack spends a good few seconds STARING after her form until the door to his office shuts. It’s then that he turns around to his welshman, his eyes tired and expression hurt. He steps forward towards his beloved, his rock in situations like these, and takes up the other hand into his own. Leaning forward Jack presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes as he simply takes in Ianto’s CALMING aura.

“Was I too hard on her?” Jack murmurs, questioning his own authority only seconds after being so sure of himself. He’s playing back the situation in his head, incapable of figuring out if he’s gone too far. 

                                               “She was dumb and she didn’t think. You almost DIED, Ianto.”

[cxptained-archived]

@blipintiime | you gave me the idea for this and I decided I wanted it so suffer

                           “On the right, Jack!” Tosh’s voice floats through his ear piece as he barrels down the street towards the last known location of their currently missing alien. Gwen is four steps behind him, eyes locked on the captain in pursuit. 

“RIGHT!” Jack calls out to his team. Footsteps are audible on the ground below; Jack’s coat billowing out behind him; the slight grunt of Gwen’s breath as she struggles to keep up with the immortal’s sprint. 

                                                     They both turn. 

                                                                                                 WHACK.

Pain explodes from the back of Jack’s skull.  His feet tangle beneath him. The concrete gets closer. Hands go out to stop himself. His vision blurs and turns to stars. More pain streaks across his palms before they run hot with his own blood. His nose  n a r r o w l y  misses breaking against the pavement.

Captain Jack Harkness ends up SPRAWLED out on ground. Gwen almost comes to the same fate as she stumbles over her captain’s feet. A wooden plank clatters to the ground, covered in a strange sticky goo. The former D.I Cooper tears her gaze away from Jack to find their missing alien exactly where Tosh had said it would be.

                                                                                                                  On the right.

[cxptained-archived]

@blipintiime | this is a ‘Jacklynn had a shit day and I've made a present for while she’s away to come back to’ thing

                              It’s hard for Jack to look at Ianto with anything that doesn’t resemble pure adoration. Even if he doesn’t MEAN to do so. Even if the purpose he turned around to the Welshman is to order him to go clean out the archives. Even if he’s any HINT of annoyed at him. That look on his face always and without fail returns to soft love.

It’s a PUPPY-DOG kind of love isn’t it? The one where you don’t even catch yourself making eyes at your beloved across the room until they’re staring straight back into your soul. And all you can do is SNAP yourself back to reality and take note of the expression pouring out across your features without your permission; declaring your emotions for the whole world to see.

                            That’s how every day feels with Ianto Jones around. 

He can be doing very little with his time. Pottering around making coffee. Carrying archived items back and forth across the Hub; doing something important only Ianto Jones really knows or even seems to care about. A little quip here. A sarcastic comment there. ENOUGH to make Jack Harkness raise his head, a curl of a smile gracing his lips before telling team mates to ‘ play nice ’.

Perhaps they’re even in bed. Ianto asleep against his side and Jack... well, Jack doesn’t sleep. He simply lies awake and watches. The way the other man’s chest rises and falls with very single breath he takes. The way he moves ever so slightly through the different stages and cycles of sleep. Jack doesn’t take his eyes off that sleeping form, nor his hands either. Touching him at all times, a hand in his hair or resting against his heartbeat. Some way of touching the man so IMPORTANT to his life at all times.

Yet people may look at Jack and wonder why on EARTH Ianto would choose a man like him? Jack wouldn’t blame them. There’s no way Jack believes he should have ever have gotten so lucky that he manages to bag as man as beautiful inside and out as Ianto Jones. Jack would be the FIRST to admit he doesn’t deserve such a pure soul in his life.

                            But he won’t change the fact that he does.

                                                                                                       Not for ANYTHING.

And, as Captain Jack Harkness looks up from his desk, watching Ianto move around the Hub for the twelfth consecutive minute, it’s only when Gwen clears her throat he realises that he’s been staring at Ianto’s ASS the entire time.

[cxptained-archived]

“It doesn’t matter what they think, I just care about what you think.”

@blipintiime​ | soft sentences - accepting!

                          “DANGEROUS outlook to have, Ianto.” Jack says gently. The two men are pressed together, swaying gently to music that fills the Hub. Nobody else is currently clocked in, simply the archivist and the immortal alone in their thoughts and their space. It doesn’t happen often - but GOD if Jack didn’t enjoy it.

He takes a breath, chest moving against his welshman’s own and presses a kiss to his cheek lightly. “There are more people in the world than just me. DON’T forget that.” Jack murmurs, though his grip on the man tightens. He has little qualms, in retrospect, about being Ianto’s entire world. It’s endearing. It’s empowering. It’s LOVE.

But Jack will always worry that he’s bad for the younger man.

[cxptained-archived]

@blipintiime | i promised ianto some cute

                         Ianto Jones deserves more than Jack was giving him lately. He tries to remind himself that it’s not his fault; work was just so busy lately that there was hardly time to think let alone plan romantic gestures. But, as the rift activity FINALLY simmers down for the first time in three weeks and the Weevil’s stop terrorising the city in every waking moment, Jack finally has a second to come up with something.

Something PERFECT for his angel.

“Hey! Ianto!” Jack calls out as he spots the suited Welshman walking across the hub. He’s half leaning out of his office, weight against the doorframe and one leg lifted off the ground behind him for balance. 

It’s not a position held for very long. Jack quickly rights himself, pushing away from the wooden stature and crossing the Hub floor. He walks quickly, arms behind his back, something clutched between his fingers.

“You’ve got the WEEKEND off.” Jack tells him as he moves over. The smile on his face isn’t out of place but it only grows as he gets closer. Perhaps a little forward of him, the moment he reaches the man in front of him he cups his cheek with one hand, pressing lips against the others. “Well, technically we BOTH do.” He admits in a cheeky whisper, breath ghosting across Ianto’s skin.

With his other hand he finally reveals what’s been hiding behind his back. An envelope. 

“The TWO of us... a pretty beach in Wales and a cute cottage by the sea... no Weevils, no work. Just us.” Jack grins. “How’s that sound, my angel?” He asks, eyes flicking over Ianto’s form. His expression is pure adoration for the one in front of him. A beautiful man who deserves NOTHING but the very best. And Jack is determined to give it to him.”

[cxptained-archived]

Tag Drop for @blipintiime

blipintiime; i spent my whole life running then one day all of the sudden there was you