#but i should be grateful my landlady lets me do whatever i want because we pay the rent on time and make improvements

[ursaius]

Interior design is my passion 😐 I really need to take the cabinets my snakes are sitting on outside and sand them down and paint them but I can't ever seem to find the time. They've gotten so scraped up from me moving them around all the time. And the white is low-key ugly and doesn't match my aesthetic but my mom painted them to match her stuff before she gave them to me.

[miss-lumiere]

Hidden Affection - Chapter Two

Sherlock x reader x Moriarty

Synopsis: Sherlock’s and John’s lives are about to drastically change, when John’s younger sister he hasn’t seen in years, appears at their doorstep. After living with the two for a while, Sherlock grows fond of the younger, intelligent woman. He feels connected to her like he never did before with another human being. But will the attention of a certain criminal mastermind get in the way? Wordcount: 3.5k A/N: Hey guys, I’m back with another chapter! I will probably update this series once a week or every two weeks and I plan to keep them around 2k - 3k words each. Enjoy the chapter and I would appreciate if you let me know how you liked it. :) Masterlist  Chapter One  Chapter Three The beginning of the end As John and you re-enter 221b a week later, shopping bags in your hands, you hear two gunshots being fired upstairs. The two of you had been grocery shopping together seeing as John still had issues with the machines in the supermarket. Sherlock was left at the flat alone, probably not the wisest decision. You instantly freeze, looking at an irritatingly calm John with a shocked expression. “It’s probably just Sherlock.”, he expresses with a shrug of his shoulders before continuing up the stairs. You were frozen to the spot for another second, before rushing after John, curious as to what was going on. Living with Sherlock was certainly more exciting then your former life and you’ve grown to enjoy the bickering between him and your brother. John was always so easily irritated or annoyed, a trait you had exploited when you were younger. The view that greeted you as you entered the flat makes you chuckle quietly. Sherlock is sprawled out on his armchair. He hadn’t dressed yet and was still in his blue silk robe, his hair slightly ruffled. In his left hand he held a gun which he now pointed at the wall on the right-hand side before firing it another two times. He didn’t even bother to look at his target. The shrill sound lets you flinch. That was the first time that someone fired a gun in your presence and you were sure it wasn’t going to be the last. Slightly scared you rush into the kitchen, dropping the bag next to the fridge. The groceries could wait. Sherlock was far more interesting right now. As you returned to the living room, you noticed what Sherlock had been shooting at: A big yellow, smiley had been sprayed on the wall. The yellow paint was now interrupted by bullet holes. Impressive, you had no clue he was such a good shot. But then again, it was probably dangerous not to in his occupation. The tall man fired a third and a forth shot, before John interrupts him. “What the hell are you doing?”, your brother inquired, removing his fingers from his ears. “Bored.”, Sherlock stated plainly, in a child-like tone. “What?”, John exclaimed in disbelief. “Bored!”, Sherlock replied, this time louder. And just like that they were back at bickering like a married couple. Typical. As Sherlock jumps up from the chair, John covers his ears again. You carefully step closer to your brother mirroring him. The curly-haired man fires a few bullets at the smiley face before putting his arm behind his back, firing from that position. “Bored! Bored!” As Sherlock lowered his arm, John rushed to his side taking the gun away from him and removing the magazine. Finally feeling a little less agitated, you joined into the conversation. “Don’t you have anything you could be doing? A case maybe?”, you ask trying to calm Sherlock, who had now moved to the couch. “Don’t know what’s got into the criminal classes. Good job I’m not one of them.”, the man responds “Well, taking it out on the wall will not keep you entertained for very long. Maybe try something less destructive and potentially dangerous?”, you try to reasoning with Sherlock while John puts the gun away. You should have known that it’s pointless to reason with a child once it’s angry. “Ah, the wall had it coming.”, he pointed out flopping down on the brown sofa. Moving closer to the wall to observe Sherlock’s work, you couldn’t hinder a grin from forming on your face. Sherlock certainly was a strange man. Weird, yes, but also more interesting than most. You had a feeling there was much more to him than most believed. No matter how long it would take, you already had set your mind to solving the puzzle that was Sherlock Holmes. “What about that Russian case?” your brother asked before making his way to the kitchen, probably to put the groceries away. “Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time.”, you heard Sherlock respond as you followed John to the fridge. You intended to help out as much as possible since you were living with them for free. “Ah, shame.”, John added sarcastically, followed by you chuckling. John takes out a few things out of one of the bags, moving to put them in the fridge. As he opened the door of the fridge John lets out a curse making you look up from the bag. “What’s…”, you trail off after spotting the head that was placed in the fridge. You slightly back up, not being used to the look as much as the two men. “Sherlock? Why is there a head in your fridge?”, you asked a little confused after heading back into the living room. “And where are we supposed to store the food?! Whatever, I’m going to ask Mrs. Hudson if she had some space left.” A few minutes later you had brought the bags to the landlady, but not without having the older woman remind you of how she was ‘not your housekeeper’. You were somewhat happy of having been spared the fight that surely ensued between your two flatmates. As you walked back to the flat, you heard shouting coming from inside. The door burst open, followed by an angry John rushing down the stairs past you. “John?”, you asked him stopping on the stairs as he had reached the entrance door. “I’m going to stay at Sarah’s for the night.”, he simply replied before leaving. As you reached the flat, Sherlock was standing in the middle of the room facing the smiley with a smirk. “Everything alright with John?”, you inquired a little worried. “Sure. I don’t know what has gotten into him.”, he replied, oblivious to the fact that he was most likely the reason for John leaving. “Now that John’s not present I would like to ask you something.”, you said changing the topic, since you were sure the conversation was going to lead nowhere. “Will you teach me?” “Care to elaborate?”, he requested having turned towards you, his arms clasped behind his back as you started approaching him further. “How to shoot. I want to be able to protect myself, now that I am being associated with you.”, you explained smiling shyly while fidgeting with your hands. “Why are you not asking your brother?”, he asked tilting his head to the side. “You know how John is, he is way to overprotective. He would never allow it.” “But you’ll do it anyw – “ Before Sherlock could finish his sentence a blast knocked you both to the floor. Your ears were ringing and you could feel a stinging pain in parts of your body before blackness overcame you. As you came to your senses you were greeted by a familiar face. Sherlock was leaning over you with a somewhat concerned expression. You found yourself lying on some kind of bed in the back of an ambulance. “What’s happened?”, you asked still a little dizzy. “Supposed gas leak in the opposite building. It shattered the windows of our flat and knocked us to the floor.”, he explained. “You lost your consciousness for a few minutes, but other than a few scratches and bruises you should be fine.” You smiled weakly, sitting up slowly. Your chest hurt a little but otherwise you felt fine. Taking you under his arm, Sherlock helped you to your feet walking you to the rim of the ambulance where you both sat down. “John’s still at Sarah’s?”, you asked a little worried. “Yes, I already attempted to contact him, but he didn’t pick up his phone.”, he exclaimed putting a blanket from the ambulance over your shoulders. Bricks and pieces of glass where scattered all over the street and policemen where attempting to keep curious civilians from intruding the restricted area. A huge hole graced now the façade of the building opposite 221b. “(Y/N), What is the real reason you are here?”, Sherlock’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “Sorry?” “You surely didn’t just appear on our doorstep because you missed the brother you hadn’t seen in years. Something must have happened that made you decide to come to London.” You bit your lip lowering your glance to the hands in your lap. “It’s our older sister, Harriet, she’s – gotten worse.”, you replied hesitantly, not liking that Sherlock was so observing. “I will talk to John, I swear, I just – please don’t tell him!” “Come on, let’s get upstairs. John will certainly expect us to be there.”, he reasoned helping you up. “It’s alright, I can walk myself.”, you objected with a grateful smile. “But thank you, Sherlock. For looking after me.” Sherlock doesn’t answer you but instead smiles softly walking slowly towards the entrance of 221b with you in tow. Inside the flat you flopped on the sofa with a sigh of relief while Sherlock sat down in his armchair playing with the strings of his violin absentmindedly. He was dressed in a purple button-up underneath his trademark coat and proper pants. The colour actually suited him, you found, he was always dressed so classically. You loved your brother with his adorable jumpers, but sometimes you wished he would care more about his clothes. You decided to retreat to the bathroom to take a look at your wounds and to freshen up a bit. You had a few scratches on your forehead and bruises on your jaw, but they had already been taken care of. After trying to make your hair look presentable you washed your face carefully to remove the layer of dust that was still covering your face partially. As you left the bathroom and entered the living area, the first thing you noticed was Mycroft who had positioned himself on John’s armchair. “Oh, Hello, Mycroft.”, you greeted with a smile, knowing that Mycroft came because he was secretly worried over Sherlock. “Hello, (Y/N), you are uninjured I assume?”, he said turning in your direction. “Is that your way of showing your concern for me?”, you replied with a smirk. In that moment you noticed John, who must have arrived only moments ago and looked severely worried. As he saw that you were mainly unharmed his body visibly relaxed. You rushed towards him followed by him embracing you in his arms. “Are you alright? I just saw what happened on TV, my phone was off.” “I’m fine. A few bruises and scratches here and there, but apart from that I was lucky.”“John.”, Sherlock acknowledged his presence. “I came as fast as possible. Are you okay, Sherlock?” You decided to leave the gentlemen to their business, feeling the need to change your still dusty clothes. The suitcase that you had brought with you had been stored in the bathroom, so you always had access to your stuff. Entering the bathroom a second time, you opened your suitcase pulling out a new pair of jeans and a plain shirt. You changed into your clean clothes and put the dirty ones into the laundry basket. Mycroft was surely talking to his brother about a case he wanted him to look into, but knowing Sherlock, he would pretend to be busy, just to annoy Mycroft. Honestly, sometimes you didn’t understand their relationship. To everyone who was around the two a little longer it was obvious that both of them hid their worry and love for each other behind a façade of intellect. Sure they were both incredibly intelligent but not even they could detach themselves from feelings simply because they dreaded having a soft spot. As you left the bathroom, Mycroft had already walked towards the door so you hurried into the living area fearing you had missed something important. Mycroft turned towards you probably to say his goodbyes. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, (Y/N).”, he stated shaking your hand. “I left information to a case with John. I hope you two will convince Sherlock to look into it.” “I will try.”, you responded with a soft smile, finding their rivalry kind of adorable. After Mycroft left, you turned in Sherlock’s and John’s direction. “Anything I missed?” In that moment Sherlock’s phone rings, followed by him setting down the bow of his violin and answering his phone. “Sherlock Holmes.”, he said into the phone, his face lighting up after a few seconds.  “How could I refuse?” Sherlock ends the call and energetically jumps up from the seat, putting his violin away. “Lestrade. I’ve been summoned. Coming?”, he explained, having turned around towards us after walking to the door. “Should (Y/N) come too?”, John asked looking between you and Sherlock, unsure of what to decide. “If she wants to.”, Sherlock exclaimed looking at you expectantly. “More than anything!”, you replied excitedly. You were going to solve a case with Sherlock Holmes! After all three of you stepped into a cab, Sherlock in the front and the two of you in the back, your brother finally decided to break the silence. “So what have you been up to lately?”, he asked turning away from the window to look at you. “I just finished my dissertation. I’m almost a Doctor now.”, you explained excitedly with a grin on your face. “Not a medical one like I initially planned but a PhD nevertheless.” “What subject did you choose in the end? The last time I saw you, you were so keen on going to med school.” “Neurobiology. In the end, I decided I was more of a scientist. I always wanted to work in research and med school just wasn’t for me.” “If I had your grades I would have gotten into med school a lot easier. We could have swapped.”, he joked with a chuckle. “Yeah, haha. But then again, with your grades I probably wouldn’t have been able to study biology either!”, you snorted a playful smile gracing your features. “Tse, always the sassy one, you haven’t changed a bit.”, he exclaimed before turning to look out the window again.“Sherlock here studied chemistry.”, he added hoping to make the tall man join the conversation. “Really?”, you asked, happy to have found another person with a passion for science. “Why are you not working in that field?”“I could, of course. Though solving cases is far more exhilarating.”, Sherlock elaborated without turning around. “He means, he is no good at working with other people. ”, John elaborated jokingly to which Sherlock responded by giving him the deathglare.“I bet they were pissed off by his little “projects”, John snickered. “Maybe he stored a head in their fridge, too.”, you said giggling. “God dammit, we really have to get a new fridge…” “Are you quite done?” The cab came to a hold, meaning you had reached your destination. As you exit the cab your excitement grew: You would be working with New Scotland Yard on a crime, something you had always dreamed of. And the best part was that you got to see Sherlock use his brilliant mind. Maybe you could learn a thing or two. The boys moved closer to the entrance of the precinct where just now noticed a man with grey hair smoking a cigarette. He seemed to have been waiting for you, since Sherlock approached him. “What do you have for me?”, Sherlock asked a little bit to eager for your taste. “I will explain inside.”, the silver-haired man responded taking a last drag of his cigarette before letting it drop to the pavement. “Who’s your friend Sherlock?” “She’s John’s younger sister. Quite the smart one, she might prove helpful.”, the consulting detective explained making you smile proudly. Sherlock just complimented you. Certainly, a rare thing to hear coming from him. The man hesitated for a second before walking closer to you holding out his right hand. “Detective Inspector Lestrade. Nice to meet you. If Sherlock says you will be of help to us, you are welcome to join us.” “(Y/N) Watson, at your service.”, you responded winking before shaking his hand. You thought you saw a light blush cover his cheeks, but you have been wrong. “Follow me.”, the Detective Inspector instructed entering the building with the three of you in tow. As you walked through an area where many policemen where rushing about Lestrade spoke again: “You like the funny cases, don’t you? The surprising ones.” “Obviously.”, Sherlock responded. “You’ll love this. That explosion...” As you passed a certain desk that a had a card with the name ‘Detective Sergeant Donovan’ on it, a dark-skinned woman looks you up and down dismissively after exchanging angry glares with Sherlock. “Gas leak, yes?”, Sherlock elaborates. “No.” “No?” “No, made to look like one.”, the Detective Inspector clarifies as you reached his office. At that you exchange confused looks with John. “So this was not an accident.”, John exclaimed seemingly confused. “But, why? What do you get for blowing up an empty building?!” “Sherlock’s attention. He could simply wait for the right moment to blow us up, but he didn’t. His intention wasn’t to kill us.”, you deduced seeing how professional the whole thing was organized. Looking back to Sherlock you noticed a white envelope the words ‘Sherlock Holmes’ on it lying on a nearby desk, that the Consulting Detective was fixated on. “Hardly anything left of the place except a strong box – a very strong box – and inside it was this.”, Lestrade explained pointing towards the envelope. “You haven’t opened it?” “It’s addressed to you, isn’t it?” As Sherlock reached for the letter, Lestrade added “We’ve X-rayed it. It’s not booby-trapped.” The dark-haired man looked up for a second before hesitatingly taking the envelope in his hands. “How reassuring!”, he exclaimed sarcastically. Sherlock walks to a nearby lamp examining the envelope intently under the light. “Nice stationery. Bohemian.” “What?”, Lestrade dug deeper. “From the Czech Republic. No fingerprints?” “No.” “She used a fountain pen. A Parker Duofold – iridium nib.” He was able to see that just from examining the writing? Impressive. “She?”, your brother inquired, wanting to understand how he identified the writer’s gender. “Although it’s disputed, Graphologist’s find that a women’s writing is rounder and neater than a man’s handwriting which you can see in this example. I find those characteristics in my handwriting as well.”, you clarified quietly. “How do you know that?”, John questioned eying you suspiciously. “I read Sherlock’s blog. Maybe you should try it too, even if it is as ‘boring’ as you say.”, you deadpanned. Sherlock opens the envelope with a letter opener as John and you step closer, curious as to what was inside it. As a pink phone fell into his hand, John’s face lights up in recognition. “What is it? Have you seen this before?” “But that’s – that’s the phone, the pink phone.”, John proclaimed in disbelief. “What, from the Study in Pink?” “From the first case?”, Lestrade and you chimed in. “Well, obviously it’s not the same phone but it’s supposed to look like ...”, Sherlock trailed off before noticing what the two of you had just said. “The Study in Pink? You read his blog?” “It’s quite entertaining and I have a lot of time on my hands.”, you justified shrugging as Sherlock glares at you accusingly before turning to Lestrade. “Course I read his blog! We all do. D’you really not know that the Earth goes round the Sun?”, he explained. “It isn’t the same phone. This one’s brand new.”, Sherlock observed ignoring Lestrade’s question. “Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like the same phone, which means your blog has a far wider readership.”, he states looking at John accusingly. Sherlock turned the phone on and a mechanic voice started speaking. “You have one new message.”, followed by four short pips and a longer one. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Is that it?”, John and you asked confused. “There’s more.”, Sherlock responded showing us a picture on the phone that showed an empty, run-down room with a fireplace in the center of it. “What the hell are we supposed to make of that? An estate agent’s photo and the bloody Greenwich pips!”, Lestrade exclaimed in frustration. “It’s a warning.”, Sherlock explained absentmindedly. You took the phone out of his hands examining the picture closer. You had no clue where that was supposed to be. “But for what?”, you voiced before handing the phone back to the Consulting Detective. “Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that. Five pips. They’re warning us it’s gonna happen again.” Sherlock looks back at the small screen his brows furrowed in thought, before heading to the door. “And I’ve seen this place before.” “H-hang on. What’s gonna happen again?”, he asked trying to catch up with his flatmate. “Sherlock, what do you mean?”, you joined in rushing together with Lestrade after the two. Sherlock turned around making a dramatic gesture with his arms. “BOOM!” To be continued... If you would like to be tagged for the series, let me know!

[fafsernir]

The Perfect Opportunity

So with @omelettedufromage-24601 we finally did another "Prompt time" as we call them, after a few months, and it was great, and I got inspired! Oops... ;) Enjoy anyway, I just had fun :D

Janto, AU, supposedly just humor ;)

Read it on Ao3 or FF.net

Prompt Idea "I told my sister I have a boyfriend so she'd stop trying to set me up with people but now she's coming to visit and I'm in too deep I need a fake boyf ASAP"

Ianto tapped his phone on the table, chewing his lip. He had fallen right into Rhiannon's trap, and now he didn't know what to do.

She had been trying to set him up for months, since the fiasco with Lisa, and a few weeks earlier he had told her that he was seeing someone. And she had stopped. Well, she had asked question, and Ianto had lied, describing someone he liked – maybe fancied a bit – only leaving one detail out. The fact that it was a man. But as it was all fake, Ianto hadn't seen the point of coming out as well as lying to Rhiannon. So he had changed the sex and described his neighbour. Nothing wrong in that.

Except that now Rhiannon was coming over, and had asked him before if everything was going well with Ianto's mysterious girlfriend, to which he had answered that they were going to spend a nice evening together. He couldn't quite say that “she” had left in the meantime, as “she” wasn't supposed to be here yet.

When he heard the door of the staircase open in the corridor, he jumped on his feet, running to the flat. Maybe he could text Toshiko, ask her to come over and pretend for the evening. But Rhiannon knew Toshiko and she clearly had been a best friend for Ianto, nothing more. Ianto didn't feel at ease with his other friends to ask them this. Maybe he could ask Jack, but Rhiannon would see him if he went out to knock at his neighbour's door.

“Hi Ianto, spying on me?” a voice said, and Ianto gulped.

It wasn't Rhiannon, but his neighbour, Jack. The neighbour he had described to Rhiannon. The neighbour he fancied.

“Oh,” he said. “I... Well.”

“Is there a problem? You seem... in a hurry?”

“Yes! I am! I am! I... huh... Ha,” Ianto scoffed. “You'll laugh.”

“Go on, you know you can't do worse than getting stuck on your balcony and calling for help.”

Ianto looked down, still ashamed at how they had first met. Ianto had a door leading to his balcony, except that it closed by itself if you didn't take the key with you or had someone to open. Or just blocked the door so it wouldn't close. Of course, he had once been stuck on it, without his phone, standing like a fool with his coffee in his hands. Well, he was rather glad that Jack had been on his balcony at the same time, but still, it sucked. They had stared at each other for a moment, then Jack had casually talked, and it had taken half an hour before Ianto admitted that he was actually stuck and that if Jack could call someone, anyone, the landlady preferably, he would be forever grateful. Jack had laughed and helped him, and they had developed a friendship after, sometimes going to the other's to spend a nice evening, or just talking from their balconies.

And Ianto totally fancied the handsome man, and he needed him, right now.

“Would you be my boyfriend for tonight?” Ianto asked, shaking his head.

“What?” Jack huffed.

“Okay, long story short, I told my sister I had a girlfriend, except that I don't, and she's coming in a few minutes, and I don't have anyone because I lied but I don't want her to set me up with someone so I just need a fake boyfriend. For the night. Please?”

“Slow down,” Jack said, balancing on his feet, thinking. “So you told your sister you had a girlfriend... And you want me to play your boyfriend?”

Ianto considered the sentence then grumbled. “Whatever, I'll just tell her that I couldn't gather the courage to come out to her.”

“Okay. Since when are we together?”

“What?” Ianto said, confused.

“How did we meet? What job do I do?”

“Just be honest. Simply change things so it sounds like we were a couple all along, not friends. Let's say we were together on my birthday, that'd be easy.”

“When is your birthday?”

“Actually no, your birthday, she'll find that less suspicious. I don't know! Just say some stupid date, like five months ago!” Ianto said quickly, running his hands through his hair, panicking and sure, entirely sure, that the evening would go wrong. “And if--”

Ianto was trying to cover all subjects, but it was too long and he didn't know what should be done or not, because everything sounded just mad, even the fact that Jack agreed, and he wasn't sure he could hold the evening pretending to be in a relationship with his crush. All of that, he tried to voice. His fear, his anxiety. But maybe Rhiannon would just not accept the fact that he was in a gay relationship – although he wasn't, not really – and would walk away so the evening would go better than expected...

Something. Anything. He had to say things, but Jack cupped his face and surged forward, kissing him suddenly.

Ianto insulted himself of fool when he felt his heart bumping in his chest. When he closed his eyes and felt the world stop turning. When he brought his hands in Jack's hair and responded to the kiss. He opened his mouth to Jack's demanding tongue and suppressed the rational voice telling him that it was a bad idea and that maybe Jack didn't need to snog the life out of him in this fake couple thing. But he didn't really care, because Jack was kissing him, fake boyfriend or not, and it was amazing.

Then Ianto heard the characteristic cough that his sister often did to announce herself. He reluctantly pulled back, managing not to wince at the loss of contact, and stepped in front of Jack.

“Rhi'! I... Hiya,” he stuttered, remembering that Jack was his fake boyfriend and that he shouldn't take advantages.

But holding his hand behind his back felt so natural and so good that Ianto had to briefly close his eyes in a silent prayer that he could be in that position for real one day.

“Hullo!” she answered, her smile a bit fake, her eyes betraying her confusion.

Ianto cleared his throat. “We should go inside.”

Rhiannon nodded and Ianto guided Jack into the living room, again reluctantly letting go of his hand. But he had to, and joined Rhiannon who had stayed in front of the door.

“Come,” Ianto said, and closed the door behind her, taking her coat.

“So...” she started. “Your girlfriend...?”

“Is not so much of a girl,” Ianto shook his head, putting his shaking hands in his back pockets.

“Right. Was she... I mean...”

“It's been him all along,” Ianto lied, telling himself that at least he would be honest on one thing that night. He wasn't straight.

“Okay,” Rhiannon said, looking at the wall. “So you're...”

“Interested by men as well as women. I just... don't care?” Ianto tried to explain, but he didn't really wonder about his sexual orientation, he just knew he didn't care much about the gender of the person he was with, and that was it.

“Since when?”

“Huh... I don't know, Rhi'. Forever? I didn't wake up and thought 'Oh but I like men too!' one day, it just sort of... was the case, since the beginning?”

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Ianto smiled.

So apparently she wasn't rejecting Ianto, but she didn't have any reaction, so he wasn't sure.

“Listen, Rhi', if you don't want me to mention it ever again, I'd unders--”

Ianto was interrupted for the second time in a short amount of time, Rhiannon taking him in his arms.

“No, no! It's great. I just didn't imagine. Not that you should-- I don't know,” she shook her head, then patted his back as she pulled away. “Is he nice though?”

“Yeah,” Ianto smiled genuinely. “Yes he is.”

“Great. Presentations, then?”

Ianto nodded and led the way, a big smile on his face, proud of his sister. He hadn't been sure that she would accept him for that, but he was so happy of her reaction. He gave a discreet thumb up to Jack who jumped on his feet and extended his hand to Ianto's sister.

“Jack Harkness, a pleasure to meet you. Ianto told me a lot about you,” he grinned.

Ianto shook his head, thinking he was doing too much, but Rhiannon actually blushed when Jack took the hand she was giving him to kiss it on the back.

“I like him,” she whispered to Ianto's ear when Jack let go of her hand, and Ianto smiled in return.

Ianto improvised something for dinner, getting help from Jack, then Rhiannon, and doing nothing in the end, other than watch his sister and fake-boyfriend cook together. He sat on the kitchen counter like a child, criticising the meal getting cooked while he ate crisps. They spent a good moment, apart from his sister sharing embarrassing memories of his childhood, but Jack kept saying it was adorable – it really wasn't sometimes – so Ianto didn't mind that much.

“You should stop eating this,” Jack said at some point, snatching the crisps from Ianto's hands.

“Hey,” Ianto said, trying to take back his food, but Jack passed it to Rhiannon who nodded and started to steal his crisps. “I hate you,” Ianto pouted.

Jack laughed and stepped forward when Ianto tried to jump on the floor. Ianto stared at Jack who was between his legs and swallowed hard. Maybe he was getting into the game too much, Ianto thought, as his heartbeat picked up again. He couldn't help but put his arms on Jack's shoulders however, almost instinctively, mentally cursing for doing this.

“I'll put up the table then,” Rhiannon chuckled and left the kitchen.

Jack didn't step away, but laughed slightly.

“Okay, I love your sister,” he whispered.

Ianto smiled and nodded, noticing the glimpse of sadness in Jack's eyes. “She's pretty amazing.”

“You're not bad yourself,” Jack grinned, putting his hands on Ianto's hips.

Ianto straightened his back and had to fight the urge to kiss Jack, wondering if he was still trying to act like his boyfriend, or was just honest. He hoped he was honest. God, he wanted more of the kiss they had exchanged. He wanted more than that. Asking him to play his boyfriend had been the worst idea possible.

“Sorry to interrupt, but it's ready,” Rhiannon said, and Ianto pulled away quickly, looking at the coffee machine on the kitchen counter to give himself something to look at.

Jack stepped away and helped bring everything to the living room where Ianto had a small table with four chairs, even if most of the time two were unavailable because he pushed the table against the corner.

The dinner was great and animated, with Jack telling stories about himself, half of which Ianto already knew about, but he also found out new things about Jack, especially his family. They hadn't really talked about their parents or siblings, and Ianto found out that Jack had one brother, but hadn't talked to him in ages. He missed him, but his brother refused to talk to him, for a reason Jack didn't give, but that explained his sadness earlier. He was witnessing Ianto and Rhiannon's rather good relation, and although they weren't that close, they still liked each other and enjoyed spending time together. It was always more than never talking.

They eventually moved on Jack and Ianto, talking about their meeting – which they kept honest – which took a good deal of time because Ianto kept interrupting Jack so Rhiannon would never find out how he had been stuck on his own balcony, then about how they had come to be, and how great they were – which was all a lie. But it was a nice lie. Ianto could hear Jack talking about a life they didn't lead but that he wished they did. And Jack was an excellent story-teller, no matter if they were truth or lies, no one could tell the difference.

When Rhiannon finally left, not without asking Jack to join them once for a dinner with her family, Ianto sighed heavily. Jack patted his back and cleaned the few things they had left out.

“You don't need to do that,” Ianto said, rubbing his neck. “And oh God, I'm sorry for that.”

“It's fine, she's a lovely woman,” Jack smiled.

“She's married.”

“I know, I'm not interested,” Jack laughed.

Ianto shook his head and helped Jack clean everything and move the table back to where it belonged, then walked Jack to the door.

“Really, thanks for what you did, I don't know how to thank you,” Ianto said, leaning against the door frame.

“You could actually do something for me,” Jack said, looking down for a few seconds then in Ianto's eye.

“Sure, anything,” Ianto nodded.

“You see that nice restaurant down the street?”

“Yeah?”

“Go there with me,” Jack said, almost begged, looking unsure for once, especially after all that self-confidence Ianto had seen during the dinner.

Then it clicked in Ianto's mind and he blinked a few times.

“I... Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Interested?” Jack shrugged.

Ianto's heart flipped for the third time that day and he took a bit unsteady breath.

“Yeah... I mean, yes! Yes, I'll go.”

Jack smiled, and Ianto couldn't help but smile back at how genuinely happy Jack looked. “I'll tell you when, then.”

“Sure!” Ianto nodded eagerly. “So... I guess good night?” he added after a small awkward silence.

“Oh, yes, sorry. Thanks for the evening, it was fun. And... nice.”

Ianto presented his hand, but Jack took it only to pull it away, instead leaning on to kiss Ianto a second time. It was shorter than the first one and Jack didn't leave much time for Ianto to respond, so he just stared at him, his mouth opened, left wanting and longing for more.

“Right,” Jack said, taking a deep breath and stepping back. “Good night.”

Ianto stared again but when Jack reached his flat, he walked to him and grabbed his shoulder to turn him around and pull him into a passionate kiss.

“I'm sure it will be great,” Ianto winked at him and left, closing his door with a chuckle.

He turned everything off and went to his bedroom quickly, wondering if he should thank his sister for making things go further between him and Jack, but she wasn't supposed to know they weren't together – yet – so he just chose to sleep, smiling as he felt that his life was going as he wanted it to go for once.