#janto drabble

[gmariam321]

I feel like I've probably shared this before, but it was in my Unfinished Torchwood folder so I thought I'd share it today, even if it is again. If I didn't ever post it, I wonder why; if I did, my apologies for the double post, but it's cute and it was fun to edit since it's been a year and a half since I did any real writing. Enjoy! And maybe I'll work on some more of the stuff in my unfinished folder!

Don't get mad, get even

"So, how did the rest of the night go?" Owen asked from his station, his feet on the desk as he twirled a pen in the air and smirked. "You score?"

"Do you really want to know?" Ianto asked in return, turning around on his own chair and giving Owen a skeptical look.

"Not particularly," Owen replied. "Not at all, actually. Don't know why I even asked. Only you two are so strange sometimes…" He trailed off, chewing on the end of the pen, shaking his head.

"I'm sure I'm going to regret this, but what was so strange about last night?" Ianto braced himself for some intense piss-taking from the doctor, who seemed to delight in it more and more the longer they worked together.

"You and Jack," Owen said. "If Tosh hadn't walked in on you snogging in the tourist office a few weeks ago, no one would ever know you were shagging again. It's like a classified secret or something."

"Maybe we’re simply more private," Ianto suggested. "And professional."

"You're something," Owen said, shaking his head again. "Here we are, hitting the pub after work to celebrate the end of the longest week ever, and you two are still playing at Jeeves and Wooster. You can be a bit more casual after hours, you know."

"And you want me to—what? Feed him chips when we're out in public? Hold hands and whisper in his ear?" Ianto asked. "Stick my tongue down his throat and put on a good show?"

"Oh my god, you're going to make my brain bleed," Owen complained. "I'm just saying, if you're sleeping together, you can act like it. We all know now."

"We do act like it, Owen," Ianto replied, turning back to his computer. "When we're alone and we’re—"

"Don’t say it."

"But you thought it."

"Sod off."

"You brought it up, Owen." Ianto is still not sure why, though.

"And I'm not done. You flirt and joke, but Jack does that with dead trees. You don't hold hands, don't dance or kiss or make googly eyes—"

"I'm not sure Jack knows how to make googly eyes," Ianto said, holding back a grin at the thought of Jack with some sort of vapid love-sick look on his face. "He is well over a hundred and fifty years old."

"Wow, only six times older than you," Owen drawled. "Way to bag 'em, grave robber."

"He's immortal, Owen," Ianto replied, and this time he did turn around and grin. "Age is a meaningless number to him. But experience—experience makes all the difference in the world." He let his gaze go distant as he thought about some of the experiences Jack had shared with him. “And Jack has experience.”

"I am so done with this conversation," Owen grumbled.

"What, the one you started?"

"I'm finishing it. Go file some paperwork or something."

"But I didn't answer your question," Ianto said. He had to admit, he was having too much fun with Owen to stop now. Plus, he did have some gossip, of a sort.

"I don't want to know if you scored anymore, unless you both picked up a bird and—"

"Nope, not that," Ianto interrupted quickly. "But the rest of the night was interesting. And not in a tawdry way," he added.

Owen was quiet. He threw his pen in the air a few times, spun around in his chair, blew out a breath, and turned back to Ianto. "Now it's my turn to regret asking, but how so? Something happen after I left?"

"Jack got pissed," Ianto told him, lowering his voice as he glanced back at Jack's office. "Completely shit-faced blitzed."

Owen looked confused. "What?"

"He was loud and laughing, extremely handsy, and stumbling around. I even had to help him," Ianto cleared his throat, "with his trousers. In the loo."

"I bet you did," Owens smirked. "And I bet he loved that."

"Actually, I'm not sure he remembers," Ianto replied thoughtfully. "He practically passed out on the way home. I half carried him up to my flat—it was like wrangling an octopus—and put him to bed only for him to jump up and run for the bathroom. Ten minutes later and the octopus was back. He slept straight through 'till morning."

Owen was giving him a very strange look, both amused and disgusted. "And let me guess, you made him toast and brought him some paracetamol with your best coffee in the morning?"

"Well, yes," said Ianto, feeling defensive. "He's actually done the same thing for me."

Owen shook his head and started laughing. "Ianto, you do know that Jack can't get drunk, right?"

"Of course he can," Ianto replied. "I've seen him drink many times."

"And have you ever seen him stumbling drunk?" Owen asked.

"Well, no, not since we've been….you know," Ianto answered. "Why do you think he can't get drunk?"

"Because he told me," Owen replied smugly. "After my first really bad case, we went out to some skivvy bar to put it behind us, and although I don’t remember everything from that night, I do remember Jack being perfectly fine to drive my arse home because, as he put it, 'I can't get drunk.'"

"That's ridiculous." And yet, Ianto had a bad feeling that Owen was right. He couldn't actually remember seeing Jack drunk before, or hungover, and he'd definitely seen Jack drink before. And Jack had been dramatically over the top last night, as well exceptionally quick to recover that morning.

"That's what I thought,” Owen said. “He told me then, and he'd probably tell me now, that he metabolizes alcohol too fast for it to affect him that much. He's never been a big drinker, but I've seen him put down a fair few. He might get a little loose, but that's not hard for Jack." He sniggered and continued. "My guess is it has something to do with his immortality. He literally burns up the alcohol before the rest of us have finished our first pint. Sort of like how he never gets sick either."

"He told me last weekend that his allergies were bothering him!" Ianto exclaimed. "I made us soup for dinner." He stood up, took a step toward Jack's office, then turned back, staring at Owen. "Are you serious? He really wasn't drunk last night?"

"I think you've been had, mate," Owen told him, and he actually sounded like he felt bad for Ianto.

"I can't believe he'd do that," Ianto muttered. "What the hell was the point?"

"Who knows how his warped brain works," Owen told him, then motioned him closer. "But may I suggest not getting mad, but getting even?"

Ianto glanced back at Jack's office, still tempted to storm in and give Jack a piece of his mind before cutting him off from coffee and sex for the rest of the week. It was only Thursday; Ianto could survive, but he knew it would be rough punishment for Jack. Then he glanced back at Owen.

"Any ideas?" he asked.

"Not yet, but between the two of us, we should be able to come up with something good." Owen grinned as he stood up. "Come on. A pint on me to ease your sorrows while we plot."

Ianto couldn't help but grin back with a nod. "I think we can come up with something not just good, but brilliant," he said. He grabbed his coat from nearby and headed out the cog door with Owen, a dozen different ideas already plotting through his head.

Jack might not be able to get drunk, but he wouldn't know what hit him when Ianto was done with him.

* * *

[universe-on-her-shoulders]

Janto having soft domestic moments in the hub after a draining case (can be one in an episode or made up) and the team noticing the various little things they're doing for each other (especially if it's Jack because we didn't get enough of Jack doing things for Ianto in the series)

“Got you a coffee,” Jack said quietly, setting the mug down beside Ianto with a nervous expression and turning it so that the handle faced the Welshman. Gwen watched from her own desk as Ianto seemed to slowly register the words, tearing himself away from the spreadsheet he was staring fixedly at without seeing it, and she half expected him to give Jack a lecture on how he’d not mastered the precise art of roasting the beans or frothed the milk entirely right, but instead Ianto offered Jack a small, almost shy smile, wrapping his hands around the mug and letting his shoulders slump. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Ianto said, but Gwen could tell that the words were hollow; his tone was too casual, his manner too insistent. “Fine.”

The shredded remains of his suit jacket were spread over the back of his chair, dripping steadily onto the floor; his tie was wrapped around his desk drawer handle, where it would leave a muddy mark, and his shirt was ripped from elbow to sleeve on one side, and from collar to shoulder on the other. If nothing else, Gwen knew that the damage to what she termed Ianto’s armour, his uniform, would unsettle him; he was so dedicated to presenting himself as put-together and professional that seeing him like this was almost worse than seeing him naked. He was still entirely clothed, except for his shoes, which were on the drying rack beside the sink, and yet he seemed entirely exposed.

“No, you’re not,” Jack said quietly, resting a hand on Ianto’s shoulder, on the side that his shirt hadn’t been torn asunder by an alien. “You don’t have to pretend to be.”

Ianto bowed his head, some of his bravado leaving him as Jack spread his fingers, gently massaging where his neck met his shoulder, and she recognised the gesture; Rhys did it to her sometimes, standing behind her as she sat in the kitchen in the small hours, shovelling down last night’s dinner from a Tupperware container. It appeared to have the same effect on Ianto as it did on her; grounding him, reassuring him, steadying him.

“I’ll be fine,” Ianto managed, and Jack shook his head. “I will.”

“Let me get you a clean shirt,” Jack murmured. “Alright? And some dry socks. Has Owen checked you over?”

“Yeah. Just grazes and bruises. Nothing worse.”

“I’m glad,” Jack leaned down and brushed his lips to Ianto’s temple, so fleetingly that Gwen wondered if she’d imagined it. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, yeah?”

The last few words were what surprised Gwen the most; there was none of Jack’s usual flirtatiousness in them. This wasn’t a proposition, it wasn’t an invitation to climb into bed with him; it was just a request, a suggestion, to make Ianto more comfortable. Smiling to herself, she watched Ianto take a sip of his coffee as Jack headed back into his office to the cupboard where he kept his own clothes, and she felt a pang of gladness that Ianto had found his own version of Rhys; someone to centre him, and someone to care.

[mydearestdarlingdead]

Janto Drabble

Because someone ( @coffee4harper ) told me to and that's really all I need Two very short pieces of writing, neither are edited. I'm trying to work out the characters so if anything is off, I apologise. They'll be separated by a line of dashes because I'm not bothered for anything more proper

“Ianto.” Jack leaned against the guardrail in a way which left no doubt to his lack of caution, “Everyone else has gone home. It’s your turn.”

Purposely avoiding his gaze, Ianto replied, “Teach your employees to clean up after themselves then.”

This, Jack had to concede. For a doctor, Owen seemed to lack much of the required hygiene. This could be gathered by glancing at his workspace at the end of any given day. Though mid-morning wasn’t much better, in all honesty.

Ianto sighed, “They seem to think the clean-up fairy will come after them no matter what.”

“That might be because you do come after them no matter what.”

Now Ianto spun to face him, “I have to! You definitely won’t-” “Definitely.”

“-And Tosh, bless her, tries but she’s got her own work and- and so, it’s my job.” His words held neither the expected bitterness or bite. It was obvious that he simply detested his own home. Obvious, that is, to Jack’s eye.

Turning his back to Ianto, Jack conceded for the second time, “Carry on then.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The flight is at twenty-five past six.” Ianto confirmed, placing a boarding pass before each of the team, “Boarding is at five to the hour. It is now-” He fumbled with his sleeve briefly in search of a wristwatch which he swiftly realised was still on his dressing table, “-Almost five. Probably.”

“Ten to.” Tosh supplied.

“Thank you,” Ianto muttered, and continued, “It is now ten minutes to five. I recommend eating now, as food will be both overpriced and have the nutritional value of cardboard on the plane.”

Gwen thanked him and, taking hold of Tosh’s arm, expressed a desire to take a look around the duty-free. Owen hurried after them, considering the prices of duty free alcohol carefully,

Jack flipped through the papers laid before him, “Don’t these come digital these days?”

“Yes,” Came Ianto’s reply, “I thought physical copies would be easier for everyone.” He took a seat across from Jack, “I have two copies of all of them. Just in case.”

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Ianto is drunk and calls Jack. Pure Janto Fluff. Drabble/Oneshot.

Author: inusagi

[princess-of-the-worlds]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Torchwood Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness Additional Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Immortal Ianto Jones, Reunions, Boeshane Peninsula, Slice of Life, (kinda), Hot Weather, Alien Cultural Differences Series: Part 12 of fool me once, fool me twice

Summary:

Jack and Ianto spend their first day together on the Boeshane Peninsula.

For Torchwood Bingo Fest 2022 @torchwoodfanfests​

Bingo card under the cut.

[bookwermthings]

A torchwood drabble!

[this-is-quite-homoerotic]

Another Janto AU idea I’ll probably never write

Okay, this one’s a bit weird. TRUST ME THOUGH, I WON’T LET YOU DOWN!

(Warning: there is no underage, I swear. In case it looks like that’s where I’m heading, I promise I’m not.)

I’ve been thinking about the Jack&Owen father/son dynamic and the Owen&Ianto brothers dynamic and.

No-aliens Modern day AU where a young Jack marries Owen’s mum after a short and tumultuous love affair when Owen’s a kid. The marriage doesn’t last, Jack starts growing out of love with her when he sees how she treats little Owen, who at this point would be 7 or so, and soon other flaws he’d been too enamoured to notice start becoming more and bigger issues until the couple breaks up.

Jack is in his early 20s, and if you’d ask him before he married he’d have told you he wasn’t anywhere near ready to be a father. That doesn’t stop him from imprinting on Owen within minutes of meeting him, however, and with the way Owen’s mother treats him, he actually ends up taking him in the divorce, after many rows and a few teary discussions, because he loves the kid, and he can see that she was not actually in the position to raise anyone, for a variety of reasons that I won’t elaborate on here. She does visit him, Jack is always happy to facilitate her visits with Owen, but not terribly often.

It takes a few years, but Jack eventually adopts him legally, with his mother’s blessings. He talks to Owen every step of the way, always listens to what he has to say, always respecting (within reason) what he wants. Through mutual agreement, they never change Owen’s last name.

Jack isn’t the best father ever, by any stretch. It’s a learning curve, and there’s a few big stumbles. But he loves that kid so much, and for the first time in his life Owen has an adult and parental figure who listens attentively to what he has to say, who always asks for his opinion before making any choices that affect him, who would kill and die for him, who loves him, unconditionally, and it makes a difference.

So Owen grows up with love and support, and once he hits puberty he’s only a tiny bit nervous to tell his father he’s bi since Jack has been dating people of all genders on and off since he divorced his mother. Owen was consistently suspicious of all of them, and privately thought none of them was good enough for his father, but he never said it. He did want Jack to be happy, after all. None of them last too long, and in the end it’s always just the two of them. Jack seems happy enough with it, so Owen doesn’t worry.

Anyway, his coming out goes great; Jack is so proud he cries a little and he insists on hugging him even longer than usual. (Jack is a hugger, Owen has resigned himself to it.) Owen huffs and doles out the eye-rolls and the ‘it’s-not-a-big-deal’s and ‘oh my god, dad, you’re so embarrassing’ but he’s secretly very pleased. Jack takes him to pride for the first time that very year, and it becomes a yearly tradition.

Owen befriends Ianto Jones by proxy at first: Ianto was in his group of friends and they ended up hanging out together a lot, first in a group and later more one-on-one. He’s alright, even if he is two whole years younger than him and a bit of a nerd. There is one (1) instance when Owen almost got mad at him, when Ianto asked if he’d been adopted (after another mate of his mentioned something about it). But after he’d replied defensively, he realised Ianto wasn’t trying to be mean about it. At all. 

“That must be great, though. You know for sure that your dad wanted you, was willing to fight to keep you.” That’s how Owen found out about Ianto’s not so great home situation.

So they became mates, and soon Owen starts inviting Ianto over.

Now, the problem with being raised by a young, stunningly attractive single parent, of course, is that all his friends are more likely to have a crush on his father than they are to like him that way. Not that Owen fancies Ianto or anything. But it’s weird, Jack is old.

Ianto, like most of Owen’s female friends and some of his guy friends, develops a crush on his father. Fucking hell. The little shit keeps sneaking furtive little glances Jack’s way, and whenever Jack actually addresses him, he smiles beatifically and pretends he’s not the acerbic juvenile delinquent he really is (as if Owen would hang out with him if he was that boring). He perks up whenever Jack is around; smiles all the time. It’s bizarre.

Jack doesn’t notice. Once the initial weirdness wears off, Owen thinks it’s hilarious that his father can’t see through Ianto’s polite, helpful little boy facade. So he doesn’t say anything. He just enjoys the show. It goes like this: Ianto comes over, they hang out for a while. Jack gets home from work, Ianto gets starry eyed and promptly becomes this alien perfectly-behaved A-student right in front of Owen’s very amused eyes. Ianto’s crush goes right over Jack’s head the entire time. Owen gets to laugh at Ianto being flustered and/or pretending to have perfect manners, and Ianto gets whatever dopamine rush he gets from staring at Jack. Win-win.

They keep in touch when Owen goes to uni and later when Ianto goes to a different one, but they don’t see each other very often and eventually grow distant. Yadda yadda, life happens and eventually they re-connect.

Ianto introduces Owen to a friend of his, Katie, obnoxiously telling her that while he isn’t as hot as his father, he’ll do. (Katie fully believes he’s joking until Owen brings her home to meet Jack. She still thinks Owen is hotter, but she can see what Ianto meant, certainly. “That’s love for you,” Ianto laments. “It blinds you.” Owen pretends to be offended.)

The thing is, Owen falls head-over-heels with Katie. He’s absolutely gone on her, and after discussing it a little to make sure she’s on the same page as him, he pops the question. Ianto is, of course, invited to the wedding.

So that’s how we get to 25-year-old Ianto seeing early-to-mid 40s Jack again for the first time in almost a decade. For the first time ever, Jack sees him right back.

Understandably, Jack feels a little guilty about noticing how nicely his son’s younger friend looks in a suit, but there’s no harm in looking, right? The ceremony is lovely, Jack cries (and so does Owen, though he glares when anyone mentions it), after which they swiftly move on to the party.

Deep into the night, late enough that the bride and groom have retired to start their honeymoon, Jack is having one more drink as he watches the mostly drunk guests dance and toast to the happy couple. He’s feeling old and maudlin and so happy for his son that his chest could burst, when Ianto makes his move.

Talking leads to snogging leads Ianto pushing Jack up against an out-of the-way wall and whispering all the dirty things he’d like to do to him in that sinful Welsh accent leads to them falling in bed together at Jack’s hotel room and staying there for the next several hours (not all of them spent awake).

Jack, having had no clue that Ianto had harbored an intense teenage crush on him and had been dreaming about this for literal years, figured it was just a one-night-thing brought about by loneliness or boredom.

The morning after, however, Ianto formally asks him out.

Jack protests (only a little, and with no real force behind it) that he’s almost twice Ianto’s age, surely he can’t mean to actually date him. Ianto assures him that he does.

They go out to have a very late brunch. It’s their first official date, and Jack has more fun than he’s had in years. Ianto, who’d only thought of Jack infrequently if still fondly during the years he hadn’t seen him, is positively giddy. Turns out seeing Jack again was all it took for the attraction to come roaring back. But now he can really get to know Jack as an adult, beyond the fantasies he made up as a hormonal teen. The real man holds up surprisingly well against the fantasy. 

Ianto confesses his teenage crush, confesses that he wondered what Jack might look like after all these years when he realised he’d be seeing him again at the wedding, but he never in a million years had expected Jack to somehow look even more delectable than he had back then. (Jack doesn’t blush, but he wants to. They end up right back in his hotel bed once they’re done with brunch.)

Truth is, Jack hadn’t expected it to last, not really. He’d hoped to have some fun with a gorgeous young man before said man got bored and moved on without him. He didn’t expect to fall in love. He certainly didn’t expect, wouldn’t have believed that sleepy morning when he’d woken up in the arms of a warm, sleep-soft Welshman who asked to take him out on a proper date, that a man young enough to be his son and handsome enough to have his choice of partner would be falling in love with him.

Owen choked on his own laughter when Jack told him Ianto had taken him out on that first date. “I cannot believe it. He did it. He actually did it. The absolute mad lad. It only took him a decade, but he did it. That crazy motherfucker. Fatherfucker. Oh my god, fatherfucker.” Then he started cackling again. Jack was too relieved he wasn’t upset about it to be offended. Despite Ianto’s reassurances that there had never been anything other than strictly platonic friendship between him and Owen, Jack still had the tiniest of worries that Owen might have harbored a crush on Ianto back in his teens. He’d invited Ianto more often than any of his other friends, and the atmosphere had always been different with him, though Jack had never managed to put his finger on how, back then.

Owen laughed even harder when Jack carefully broached the subject. “Are you kidding me? He was too busy ogling you to ever notice me, thank Christ. Would have been awkward if he did, I always saw him more as a little brother, really.” Well, didn’t that make Jack feel supremely awkward. His son saw his latest lover as a little brother. Weird, even by Jack’s standards. At least Ianto’s teenage crush confession was true. Still a bit weird, but flattering, now that that kid had grown into a gorgeous young man who still found Jack 'disarmingly attractive’ (his words).

“Of course you have my blessings,” Owen griped good-naturedly when Ianto called to ask. In retrospect, calling him during his honeymoon with the woman he loved who he’d only met because Ianto had introduced them had been a good tactical decision. He was feeling charitable towards him, and he was too high on love and sex to begrudge Ianto this.

“Thank you. You can call me ‘Tad’ if you want,” Ianto countered, because he was still a little shit with a sarcastic streak a mile wide and a penchant for annoying Owen even when he was technically begging for his blessing to date Owen’s father.

“Fuck off,” Owen told him, but there was no bite to it, he sounded amused if anything, and Ianto knew then that Owen had meant it.

“Of course. I won’t rush you. I can wait until it feels organic, son.”

Owen hung up on him. Less than a minute later, Ianto got a text message that said. ‘If you break his heart, I’ll kick your arse xoxo’. He sent back a string of heart emojis.

A year and a half later, Ianto called Owen to tell him he was planning to propose. Owen demanded to be his best man.

The year Owen turned thirty-one, Jack and Ianto adopted two siblings (a little boy and a baby girl). They named Owen their godfather (yes, both of them).

That day, as Owen was asked to sign the papers that would legally make him the children’s guardian in case anything happened to their fathers, he remembered the day he met Jack, when his mother had brought him over for the first time. He remembered, a bit blurry due to time, the talks Jack and his mother had had with him when they were in the process of splitting up, how Jack had fought to convince them both that he should be the one to raise Owen. He recalled, like a much-beloved photograph he took out to stare at when he needed it, the well-worn memory of walking into their new house for the first time, and realising that it was real, that Jack really did mean to adopt him, that he’d really be living with him from then on; that Jack really wanted him. He remembered all the times Jack had told him that family wasn’t blood, family was love, and trust, and commitment. And he remembered, with perfect, stunning clarity, a 15-year-old Ianto telling him he’d like to adopt when he was older, even if he ended up with someone who could get pregnant.

He also remembered a 15-year-old Ianto making heart eyes at his father in their living-room while Owen struggled not to laugh at him, and really, one had to respect a man who stuck to his convictions. Ianto certainly knew what he wanted and put in the work to get it.

At least he was pretty sure he could trust Ianto with Jack’s heart.

(Epilogue:

Because Ianto has a terrible sense of humour, he spends an entire summer calling Owen ‘son’ and ‘kid’ and ‘sport’. Owen makes a face the first couple of times, but he’s brought around pretty quickly between 1) the way Katie laughs whenever Ianto does this, and 2) the bewildered looks it gets them whenever someone hears it, because not only is Ianto younger than Owen, he also looks it. It makes for interesting situations.

So rather than be annoyed, Owen starts to enjoy it. He decides to lean into it, starts calling Ianto ‘tad’ and ‘dad’ and ‘father’, and one memorable time ‘the man who literally birthed me’. Katie chokes on her drink and laughs so hard her abdomen hurts for the next day. Jack actually falls off his chair laughing. Ianto looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, the little shit.

And they were a loving family who were disgustingly happy for the rest of their lives and never had tragedy befall them, not even once, the end.)

[spookylostboy]

I think the writing gods just possessed me.

I wrote a super short little drabble like thing for Janto after not writing for like two months. The idea just popped into my head and then BOOM! A fic.

[gmariam321]

But what if Jack and Ianto had one of those wonderfully cliche shouting matches that ended in a big “Well, I love you, that’s why!” and “Fine, I love you too, now what?” kind of things? Because they kind of are exactly the kind of characters to do this, in the right situation. Only thanks to Retcon or maybe a time reset, they naturally don’t remember this ever happening. But we do.

[universe-on-her-shoulders]

I don't have a prompt, just Ianto being a BAMF and Jack realizing he is horny for it

"Right, so once we've dealt with the remains of that Ferrovite, I'll take the SUV in for a service - Dave's offered me a great discount this year, which might be altruism or it might be all the Retcon - and get it valeted as well after. It's not been quite right ever since Owen spilled that curry in the back seat, and the smell is getting... a lot. Does your coat need cleaning? I can drop it in on the way back from the garage; I've got to take some things in."

Jack just stared at Ianto without saying anything, lost in his own thoughts. He was thinking about Ianto, yes, just not about the conversation at hand; instead he was remembering the previous evening, and the words they'd whispered to each other in the darkness afterwards, and he was idly wondering whether he could suggest the two of them slipping off somewhere together...

"Jack?"

Perhaps the stationery cupboard... nobody ever went in there except Ianto himself, so it wouldn't even look suspicious. Was it unprofessional, fooling around at work? Probably, but he found he didn't much care; he was the boss, after all, so as long as he was involved then he couldn't exactly discipline himself, could he? Maybe he could discipline Ianto instead; the thought of that was interesting, and his imaginings changed, becoming darker, more desperate, more frenzied...

"Jack?" Ianto said more loudly, and he jumped, abandoning thoughts of leather and focusing on the besuited man in front of him with some difficulty. "Earth to Jack?"

"Sorry," Jack cleared his throat, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat. "Miles away."

"Anywhere nice?"

"Thinking about you."

"Oh, good," Ianto raised his eyebrows with a bemused expression. "So do you want your coat dry cleaned? I've got to take my suit in from last week."

"I wasn't thinking about laundry."

"Of course you weren't," Ianto rolled his eyes impatiently. "Because you're not the one who has to deal with it. How do you get through so many pairs of socks?"

Jack blinked hard, disconcerted by the change in subject, and he felt himself returning to earth with a bump. "I like my feet to feel clean."

"Right," Ianto deadpanned. "Well, you owe me big time for washing your socks..."

"I could make it up to you..." Jack noted, his mouth quirking up into a smirk as he realised that this might be just the opportunity he needed. "In the stationery cupboard..."

[mydearestdarlingdead]

Should I post the janto drabble I've been writing??

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Superwho Masterlist

Finding Oneself in Happiness [I]

Drabbles [8] [Sam Winchester]

Dat Kink [Ianto Jones] [Jack Harkness] [Owen Harper]

First Kiss [11] [Gabriel]

Had Ianto Survived

Had Owen and Tosh Lived

Ianto Jones Headcanons

Jack Harkness Headcanons

Jack + 9

Janto

Jonathan Lethbridge-Steward

Normal AU Sabriel

Owen Harper Headcanons

Sabriel Winchester

Scott Meadows

Thomas Jordan

[x] [x]

[princess-of-the-worlds]

Title: left you with both of the rings

Written by: @princess-of-the-worlds

Beta’d by: @thirteeninafez

Art by: @icantleave

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 21,188

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon Relationships, Suspense, Existential Crisis, Angst, Science Fiction

Summary: Ianto and Jack are the dream couple—working side-by-side at Torchwood, protecting the world from alien threats alongside the rest of their team, living in domestic wedded bliss during their off hours. But when cracks begin to appear in the surface of Ianto’s perfect world, he’s forced to confront what he knows is real.

fic here | art here 

for the @torchwoodfanfests big bang!

[fafsernir]

No 69. from the Drabble Challange for Janto maybe? (:

Hi Anon!! Thanks a lot for your ask, I did my best! The original idea was from @fabricati-diem-punc so, erhm, thank you ;D because I had trouble finding something that wasn’t completely out of character with that sentence.

Hope you enjoy!

From this Drabble Challenge! , 69 “We need to talk.” My ask box is still opened for this post or for other requests :D

“We needto talk.”

It alwayssounded awfully serious in anyone's mouth, but even more so comingfrom Ianto's, especially when they were alone in the Hub, early inthe morning. Ianto had his usual professional mask on which probablymeant that he was pretty pissed off inside, if Jack believed hisinstinct.

But why wasIanto angry? Jack thought about anything he could have done wrong.Had he said something wrong? Had he done something wrong? He tried toanalyse the last three days in a couple of seconds, then thought thatmaybe it was something from even before, because Ianto was like this.He said nothing until a breaking point when he said things that hadhappened months before to Jack's face. It had been unsettling thefirst time, first because of the sudden outburst, then because Jackbarely remembered some things Ianto had reproached him, and he hadn'tthought Ianto had cared for them. The second time had been even worsebecause Ianto had been exhausted, on drugs – because of a gunshotwhich was entirely Jack's fault – and crying through his wholespeech, which was more heartbreaking than unsettling in the end,because Jack had realised he couldn't know what hurt Ianto becauseIanto could keep his feelings inside better than anybody Jack hadever met.

“Huh...sure,” Jack said after a moment, unable to find what was wrong byhimself. “Erhm... do you want to sit?”

Ianto shookhis head and stood. It was awful. Jack was still trying to thinkabout something he had done wrong. Had he mentioned one of his ex?Ianto didn't like it that much. Had he used the coffee machine? No,not the one at the Hub, but he was allowed to use the one in Ianto'sflat because there was nothing alien about it and he just had to putthe thing and press a button to have a coffee. Nothing complicatedthat involved breaking the machine. Maybe he had flirted too muchwith an alien? Did Ianto have a breaking point for that? Jack onlyknew he got jealous because Gwen had accidentally told him, but Jackfound that funny, he didn't think Ianto could really grow jealousenough to tell him bluntly.

“I...”Ianto started and as Jack was holding his breath, he turned towardsthe Hub where an alarm had set off. “Fuck, it's the Rift alarm,”he said and jogged to Tosh's former workstation, her computer rarelycompletely turned off as it was the one running most of the programs,that asked for a computer to be turned on almost all the time.

Jack blinkeda few times before following him.

“It seemsto be a simple artefact. We should go and secure it anyway,” Iantosaid and grabbed his coat and ran to the armoury to take his gun.“I'll text Gwen to tell her to pick up breakfast.”

Jackfollowed professionally, although he still was wondering what Iantowanted to talk about.

He didn'tget to ask him before the trip back to the hub. They had found theartefact, which wasn't as harmless as it looked because two littlealiens had gotten out of it and Jack had been shocked by the rareviolence Ianto had shown when he had yelled at him to learn how toshoot and had smashed one of the aliens with a brick. They had caughtthe other alive as it had taken advantage of Jack gaping at Ianto togo into his shirt, but hadn't found the way out. At least, they hadthe little creature secured in a box.

Jack threw alook quite frequently at Ianto while driving, wondering if Ianto wasnot talking to him any more. He had his head against the cold windowand his eyes closed, scratching a spot on his thigh that Jack knewwas covered with a bruise, as he had been the one to leave it beforethey had left Ianto's bed this morning.

He put hishand on Ianto's after a moment and tapped his fingers on the back ofhis hand, hesitating.

“Are youokay?” he chose to ask after a while.

“Fine,just tired,” Ianto whispered, opening his eyes to look at Jack,then at the road.

“What didyou want to te--”

“Watchout!” Ianto screamed and Jack braked suddenly, avoiding a fastcoming car at the last second. “Jesus, Jack! Watch the road, notme!”

Jack decidedthat talking right now was probably a bad idea, considering Ianto'sreaction. He kept his hands for himself and his stare on the roadwhile Ianto fell asleep in silence.

Jack had todrive back to the Hub in an awkward silence with himself, stillwondering and stressing about what Ianto wanted to say.

His deepestfear, he realised, was that Ianto would tell him he wanted to stopwhatever they were sharing. It felt more and more like the rightthing and Jack accepted it more and more, and it was the first timein a long time that he allowed himself to fall for someone, slowlybut surely. So the idea of Ianto... breaking up with him was awfullypainful, because he knew that he would let him go, if that was whatIanto truly wanted. Because Ianto deserved a shot at a normal life ifhe wanted to, and Jack was anything but normality. But he didn't wantto have to let him go. He tried not to think about it and wrote amental list of everything he had done wrong, surprised by how manythings he could find himself.

When theyarrived, he woke Ianto up who sleepily muttered something and got outof the SUV, taking the box and directly going to the Hub. Jack staredagain but followed anyway. Their day wasn't done, and it wasn't timefor a serious talk. Maybe he wasn't in a rush to know what Ianto hadto say, deep down.

He had noidea how right he had been when thinking their day wasn't donebecause they hadn't even sat that Gwen stormed in with a new case,from Andy.

Jack didn'teven see Ianto much as they had to go separate ways to solve amysterious alien apparition, but he couldn't think of anything elsethan Ianto. By the end of the day, not without having to run afterthe alien – “the little bitch”, as Ianto had so delicatelycalled it – that they had caught in the morning but had escaped,Jack had barely been able to talk to Ianto, and certainly not aboutanything remotely personal. He had stressed all day, but besidesthat, he hadn't been able to accomplish a lot.

And as hewas driving Ianto's car, this time, he was still anxious about theirupcoming discussion, gripping the steering wheel a bit too tightly.And Ianto was sleeping again. Or pretending to, Jack didn't know anymore. At least, Ianto hadn't said anything when Jack had offered todrive him home, that was a start.

When heparked in front of Ianto's building, Ianto got out instantly, andJack's stress came rushing in. He hadn't been really asleep, andJack's guts told him to run away from the conversation. But hedidn't, and he followed Ianto in silence, and Ianto didn't reallyacknowledge him, starting to undress as soon as he was in the flat,leaving his shoes around the door, then his tie, jacket and shirt onthe way to the bedroom, and his trousers inside his bedroom,whimpering as he bent to take his socks off. He then cuddled hispillow under the warm blankets, and closed his eyes, apparently readyto sleep.

“Turn offthe light,” he mumbled to Jack who was staring at him from thedoor-frame.

He obeyedmechanically and turned everything off.

“And getin there,” Ianto added sleepily.

Jackundressed quickly, but was unsure. He still slipped behind Ianto, notdaring to lie too close from him. Ianto turned and used Jack's arm asa pillow, rubbing his cold hand against Jack's chest to warm it up.

When hestopped, Jack tried to look at him in the dark but sighed.

“Ianto,”he said, shaking him awake.

“I'llbrush my teeth tomorrow,” Ianto murmured, his eyes still closed.

“If youwant,” Jack shook his head. “But what did you want to tell me?”

“What?Jack I'm knackered, can't it wait tomorrow?”

“But Ineed to know,” Jack whispered back.

“Knowwhat?”

“Thismorning,” Jack said, then continued because Ianto wasn't answering,“when you said we needed to talk...”

“Wha--”Ianto started, but gave up and turned his back on Jack. “Let mesleep.”

A momentpassed, then Jack turned, putting his hand on Ianto's shoulder. “ButI need to know, I can't sleep.”

Iantosnored, but Jack could tell it was fake. When Jack asked again, Iantoturned, finding himself way too close to Jack.

“You usedNespresso capsules on the coffee machine,” he nevertheless said.

“What?”Jack asked.

Ianto made anoise of exasperation. “I have a Senseo machine and I use coffeepods. Wasn't your coffee transparent?”

“Well,”Jack said, but Ianto interrupted him.

“So you'rejust stupid. Good night.”

Jack staredat Ianto going back to sleep, or what he could see of him, andfrowned. “What, that's all?”

“Mmh-mh,”Ianto mumbled.

“But whydo you have capsules if you don't use them?”

“Huh, theneighbour misread the thing and bought the wrong ones, I told her Icould use them.”

“Why,though?”

“Mysister's got one,” Ianto answered in the hope of sleeping.

There was asilence, then Jack chuckled and looked at the ceiling with a sillysmile on his face, thinking how dumb he had been to worry all daylong.

“Somethingfunny?” Ianto asked, yawning.

“I thoughtyou wanted to... I don't know, end things. But it was just yourstupid coffee machine, so I--”

Ianto turnedso quickly that Jack stopped talking and instinctively tried to backoff.

“My what?”

“Your...coffee machine,” Jack said, putting a hand on Ianto's shoulder,trying to keep him at a safe distance.

“You saidstupid.”

“Ididn't!” Jack lied, smiling despite himself.

“So youthink it's stupid? Who's the one who put a capsule in a non-capsulecoffee machine?” Ianto replied, almost childishly, too tired tosound genuinely angry.

“Hey, Iwas trying to do something nice,” Jack justified. “And you stillscared me for a whole day.”

“Good,”Ianto answered, then closed his eyes again.

“How dareyou?” Jack joked.

“Shush,”Ianto grumbled. “You're still stupid,” he added, reaching blindlyfor Jack's face.

“Ouch,”Jack said as Ianto hit him in the nose, then purposely on the cheek.

“I hopeyou suffer for your stupidity,” Ianto mumbled, but put his arm onJack's chest as well as his face.

“You'remean tonight.”

“Hey,”Ianto started, but didn't finish, snoring slightly a few secondslater.

Jack almostlaughed, but didn't want to wake Ianto up, so he just grinned and puthis arm around Ianto, bringing him a bit closer. He closed his eyes,tired as well, and shook his head when he thought back of the day hehad just spent worrying that Ianto was going to leave him whenreally, what he reproached Jack was a very domestic thing.

Jackwondered if he would easily move on from Ianto, but he already knewthe answer to that. He already knew it would hurt when Ianto wouldleave, or die, like it had hurt when Tosh and Owen had died – onlyeven worse. But he wasn't ready to think about it, and he certainlywasn't ready for it, so he shook the thought off and maybe held onIanto a little tighter, trying to find sleep.

[thexdemonxinsidexme]

Remember Me: A Janto Drabble (Re-written)

Hello! So about last year or so when I didn't really have any writing skills (still don't, but better ones) I based a drabble off of Tempus Temporis' sentence that sparked the writer in me. So, here it is, re-written, guaranteed to bring tears to your eyes.

Under the cut because it's a bit long

It had all started out as a normal day for Ianto. He came in early, turned on the lights, and started the coffee for everyone. Jack was up in his office, sleeping most likely. He was always sure to be quiet. He sat in the hub, watching the pterodactyl fly around. He smiled softly, remembering the first time he and Jack met. He heard a small buzz, and checked his mobile.

  Number: Unknown.

 Ianto-

Meet me outside now.

D

  Curious, Ianto stepped outside. He looked around, the hush of morning surrounding him. He fidgeted with his tie, when he heard something. Something Jack had told him about many times. Then he saw it. The TARDIS he had heard so much about, materializing right in front of his eyes. After it had materialized, he stepped forward, and the Doctor popped his head out, his brown suit perfect. It was just like he had seen him before, when the Daleks stole earth. He hadn’t changed a bit; but then again, Jack said he never did.

  “Ianto Jones, nice to meet you again. Come with me for a little trip,” He opened the door, allowing Ianto to step in. After a moment, he stepped in, wide eyed. He looked round the TARDIS in amazement. “Well, aren’t you going to say it? It’s my favorite part,” The Doctor grinned, watching Ianto as he shut the door and walked to the console.

  He was speechless. “I-It’s bigger on the inside!” He finally stuttered. He looked at the Doctor, “Jack told me about this, but I never imagined…” He stopped, watching. “Where are we going?” He asked, walking up next to him.

  “Somewhere very special. Promised an old friend I would take you out for a trip. I owe him one,” He looked at Ianto and smiled, his eyes looking almost sad. “You mustn’t tell anyone, super secret trip. Gotcha?” The sadness in his eyes disappeared, and Ianto thought he had imagined it.

  The man nodded “Right. Won’t tell anyone. Not even Jack,” He wondered why he couldn’t tell anyone, but he figured the Doctor had his reasons. He listened to the sound of the center make its whirling noise, and then it stopped. “Are we here?” Ianto asked.

  The Doctor nodded, grabbing his trench coat and throwing it on. He opened the TARDIS door again, letting Ianto go through first. “This is the year 5 Billion. Right now we are in the hospital of New New York, but New New York is just through this window. You can see it right over there,” He pointed, smiling.

  Ianto walked eagerly towards the window, staring in awe at the outside. Everything was almost the same, but so much better.

  Ianto watched the flying cars and the busyness of New New York for a while until the Doctor said quietly, “Come on Ianto, more to see here,” And he followed the Doctor down the hall into an upper level. He still wasn’t sure what he was doing here, until the Doctor stopped in front of what looked like a glass tank. The Doctor brought Ianto up, and he saw… a huge face? Wasn’t the strangest thing he had seen in all of his time at Torchwood.  “Ianto, this is the Face of Boe,” He introduced.

  Ianto said a polite hello to the Face of Boe, and the Doctor walked away, leaving just them to talk. He stood there for a moment, unsure what he was doing there standing in front of a giant face. “Hello, Ianto Jones. I think the Doctor already said that though,” He said, slightly nervous.

  The Face of Boe, if he could, looked happy, almost ecstatic. Like the light finally came in through the smoke in his jar.

  Ianto. I asked the Doctor to bring you here for me. He was kind enough to allow it. He heard inside his head.  As weird as it was, Ianto wasn’t afraid of him, he felt almost comfortable.

  “The Doctor does seem like a nice person,” Ianto agreed.

  I would like to tell you something, Ianto Jones. Something I would like for you to remember.

  Ianto nodded, stepping closer to the Face of Boe.

  You were never forgotten. In all this time, you were never forgotten. Thank you Ianto Jones.

  Ianto looked confused, but nodded. “I won’t forget,” He put his hand on the glass jar, eyes locked with the Face of Boe. He felt a connection, but couldn’t figure out why. They were silent for several moments before the Doctor walked back over.

  “Are we ready?” The Doctor asked quietly, watching them. Ianto nodded, reluctantly pulling his hand away from the glass.

  Goodbye Doctor. And goodbye Ianto Jones. The Face of Boe said, looking almost sad.

  “Goodbye,” Ianto said, reluctantly following the Doctor. What Ianto didn’t know was that the Face of Bow kept watching, keeping his eyes on him till the last possible moment. The Face of Boe then shut his eyes, reminiscing.

  Back in the TARDIS, Ianto was quiet, thinking about what had just happened. He watched the Doctor drive, and he too was silent.

  Finally the Doctor landed the TARDIS, “Right, we should be 5 minutes after I picked you up,” He looked over at Ianto and smiled, knowing what was to come. “Nice to finally meet you in person Ianto Jones,” He held his hand out.

  Ianto shook it, smiling back at the Doctor, “It’s been a real pleasure. I hope we get to meet again,” He replied, opening the door after letting go of the Doctor’s hand. As he stepped out, he waved once more at the Doctor. He waved back, eyes seeming sad again. The door shut, and the Doctor was gone.

  Ianto came back into the hub, everything just like he left it. Jack wasn’t up yet, so no one knew where he had just been. He checked the scanner, and called for Jack. There were kids, and apparently they just all shouted in unison. Just another case, Ianto thought, getting to work.

  ~~

  It was the fourth day of this. Four days since the children started shouting in unison. And now he only had minutes to live. The 456 union let out a gas, and everyone was going to die, but not for Jack. The immortal Jack. Jack held him in his arms, both of them shedding tears. Ianto let out a choked ‘I love you’, knowing he didn’t have much time.

  “Don’t,” Jack replied, stroking Ianto’s head. Ianto was swimming in and out of consciousness, trying to concentrate on Jack, on the love of his life. “Ianto, stay with me. Stay with me. Please! Stay with me, please, please,” He cried, shaking.

  “Hey,” Ianto said weakly, “It was good, yeah?” Another tear went down his eye. He wished that he could hold him, but he felt paralyzed. Jack agreed with him, staring at him with longing. “Don’t forget me,” Ianto cried weakly, afraid.

  “Never could,” Jack replied, getting weaker. He was dying too, but he would wake up. Ianto couldn’t.

  “A thousand years’ time? You won’t remember me,” Ianto said in disbelief. He was scared now. He was going to be forgotten by the love of his life.

  “Yes I will. I promise I will,” Jack said, voice breaking.

  Then Ianto remembered something. The Face of Boe.

  You were never forgotten. In all this time, you were never forgotten. Thank you Ianto Jones.

  Could Jack? He could. He could survive. Jack could be the Face of Boe. He wouldn’t forget him. After all that time, he still didn’t forget him. Jack loved him till the day he died. That was his last thought as Ianto Jones died.

  Jack cried as Ianto died. The love of his life was gone. Dead. There would forever be a whole in his heart. The 456 said something, but it didn’t matter. Jack was slowly starting to lose consciousness, about to die. But it didn’t matter for Jack, because he would come back to life like he always did. But Ianto, his forever love, wouldn’t. He gave Ianto one last kiss, and he fell to the ground next to him. And at that moment, Jack Harkness really wished that he could die.

[mydearestdarlingdead]

Writing Janto drabble because I haven't a concept for a full fic