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d8rkmessngrAnd here, at long last, the mpreg fluff that became...not. LOL. Happy Smut Sunday, everyone. Divided into 2 parts due to length.
Title: Month 1: Pillow Talk
Author: d8rkmessngr
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Janto
Summary: There was bound to be questions. After "Month 1: Detours" but before "Month 2: Wednesday Evening".
Warning: Angst, H/C, language, past mpreg, past miscarriage, MPreg, SMUT!
Disclaimer: TW is owned by RTD and BBC. Just borrowing custody for a tick.
Author's Note: Direct quotes in italics are from: http://www.whattoexpect.com/. Many hugs to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
soullessminion for the beta and the help!
Master Fic List: here
Additional Note: As you may have noticed by now, some of the fics in this series will be written out of order, hence the Month 1, Month 2 designation. The timeline of this series' chapters are as follows:
1. Month 0: Sex Education
2. Month 0: The Key To Appropriate Proclaimations In A More Personal Matter
3. Month 1: Detours
4. Pillow Talk
5. Month 2: Wednesday Evening
6. Month 3: Name Calling
I. Start at the beginning…
The problem with sleeping with a man, especially a man like Jack Harkness, is that talking always ended up becoming…something else. Talk never came in the form of somber dinners, quiet moments or girlfriends with sobering "We need to talk" statements. No, men don't sit down and have deep discussions unless corralled into meeting rooms with promises of coffee and edibles. Men talked in fragments that would later on be stitched together into whole conversations.
Lisa always had a particular look to her whenever something bothered her. Her face would become pinched yet melancholy, her eyes faraway even when he talked to her. It told him she was thinking and that usually meant they were going to sit down soon on her favorite couch and start talking.
But that was Lisa.
Jack's mood was as fleeting as a thought and like most men, he would avoid conversation by ironically offering more talk: endless chatter about things that were often beyond anyone's comprehension or imagination.
After Jack's declaration about impending parenthood on a grassy knoll filled with belligerent sheep, they drove back to Torchwood. Owen then promptly sat Ianto down, had Jack lie gingerly across a gurney and switched on the scanner. Ianto, his insides still warm and his head lightheaded about this new stage in his life, gaped at the gray scan of a little dot in a mass of shadows that represented organs. He stared while Jack redressed, didn't blink while Owen prattled on about how many weeks—weeks?—Jack was along. Owen then told them both to just go home and digest.
Ianto lay on their bed, eyes on the ceiling.
Digesting.
…
Good lord.
They were going to have a baby.
His right side was warmed by the close proximity of Jack, lying on his stomach, resting lightly next to him. The covers were kicked off at some point during the night because Ianto had set the flat's thermostat higher when he noticed Jack still looked cold. Most of Jack's warmer clothing was still in cardboard boxes stacked in the office, in a sort of domestic limbo, waiting to be moved to Ianto's flat. Nevertheless, regardless of looking chilled, Jack seemed more than happy to remove Ianto's clothing and his own anyway before they curled around each other in bed. Neither one of them felt the inclination to untangle themselves from each other to pad across the bedroom to fix the temperature.
"I thought I'm the one usually up at nights," Jack mumbled just off his right ear. Jack fidgeted and skin brushing against skin distracting Ianto from whatever witty—least he hoped it would be—remark he was going to say.
Ianto turned his head and studied the sleek profile of Jack's back. There were moments when all Ianto wanted to do was trail a finger down that muscular torso and firm legs that vanished under a mound of blankets piled at the foot of the bed now.
"Ianto?" Jack lifted his head up and his body did an interesting move like a sleek cat stretching in the sun. The two keys hanging around his neck swayed and gleamed like jewels over the tender hollow of his throat. His buttocks clenched and heat pooled down Ianto's groin at the sight. Even unintentionally, Jack moved with riveting grace that beckoned.
"Sorry." Ianto realized his mouth was open and God knows how he must look gawping at Jack.
There was a throaty chuckle, a sly brush of a foot up along the inside of his leg that told him Jack didn't mind.
"Sorry for what?" Jack leaned over. He pressed open-mouthed kisses over Ianto's throat, his shoulder and then drifted down to a nipple.
Ianto swallowed convulsively and closed his eyes. The minute nips, teasing grazing of teeth, fingers curling around his cock with all the coyness of a cat creeping up on prey; Ianto could see Jack clearly in his mind, drawn with the brushstrokes of tactile touches on his skin.
"For…staring," Ianto managed and tried to sound like he was talking about the monthly operation budget of paper and coffee beans, not currently being devoured slowly by Jack's lapping tongue. The keys felt cool skimming across his skin. "I was…thinking…"
The tip of Jack's tongue nudged then kneaded the nipple until Ianto groaned and arched into Jack's mouth.
"Thinking's no fun." Jack's response was more a purr than voice. Jack looked up with darkened eyes but after a moment, he tilted his head in consideration. To Ianto's dismay, Jack stopped. He propped up higher on his elbows.
"Thinking about what exactly?" Jack studied Ianto before his mouth twitched. "Ah," he said before lowering back down onto the bed again, his head pillowed by his arms.
"You have questions. We didn't really have a chance to talk about this before, huh?" Jack turned his head to face Ianto. The smoky quality that swirled in Jack's eyes before faded to a bleak blue. "Go on," he invited. Legs straightened and closed, face expectant, the crooked smile Jack wore faded to a more serious expression that made Ianto squirm.
Ianto turned on his side and tentatively touched Jack's face, his thumb wiping across Jack's lower lip as his body wiggled close enough to feel the heat of Jack's body.
"What do you want to know?" Jack stared back with a blank face. Ianto wished Jack looked more…he wasn't sure what he wanted Jack to look like; anything was better than looking like he was just talking about the rift or the weather. Even after looking at the scans, it was hard to associate that with the man lying next to him.
Why did Jack choose to have the womb? Did it hurt all those months before? Will it hurt this time? Was he happy about the baby? Did Jack know this would happen? What will change? What will be different? Would anything stay the same?
Everything swirled around Ianto's head. They were all good, proper, responsible questions any man in his situation—the baby part, not the sleeping with a male time traveler part—would ask. But all that came out, in the soup of who, what, how and why was…
"Are you squishing the baby lying on your stomach like that?"
Jack blinked and something flashed across his face that Ianto couldn't decipher. He raised his head, leaned across and kissed Ianto hard in the mouth.
"No. I don't think you can really hurt the baby like that," Jack chuckled awkwardly. It sounded like he wasn't sure if it was all right to laugh or not. However, he did roll to his side, his back facing Ianto.
Ianto stared at the back. He rested his forehead between the shoulders and felt Jack flinch. Ianto frowned.
"Jack?"
There was a soft sigh.
"Get some sleep." Jack didn't flinch again when Ianto kissed his spine, lips mapping the ridged knobs on his back.
"Night," Ianto whispered. Jack didn't reply though. Remarkably, he was already asleep. Ianto wondered if it was because of the baby and made a mental note to ask Jack about that.
Ianto laid there, his hand caressing the rounded back, as he stared at the back of Jack's head. After a few minutes, Ianto sat up and grabbed the duvet bunched at the foot of the bed. Carefully, he pulled it up over their shoulders even though sweat clung to his forehead. Jack still looked cold.
Another thing he should ask Jack about.
II. If at first you don't succeed…
Ianto tried a question on their way to work. Together. That was new, too, because couples—it occurred to Ianto while making the toast they could be called that now—apparently go to work together. Even with Lisa, they'd gone to Torchwood One at separate times; a researcher's shift was far more regular than one from the labs and more prone to complaints about the recent congestion tax.
"Should we set something up in Torchwood?" Ianto asked, casually as he waited for the traffic light to go from red to green. Ianto drove because he thought he should from now on with Jack being pregnant and all. It was safer. That was the reason Ianto told his partner. Jack had looked at him funny before he tossed him the keys across the roof of the car and wordlessly went around to the other side of the car. Conversation was sparse between them during the drive. Then again, they were never much for chitchat, either.
"What? A casino?" Jack muttered as he held a triangle of buttered toast because he needed something if he wasn't driving.
Ianto slanted a look at him and Jack snickered.
"All right, all right. What were we really talking about?" Jack munched on the crunchy bread with a grin.
"For the…" Bollocks. Suddenly the words fumbled. "For er…you know…the baby." Ianto fidgeted and his thumbs rapped nervously on the steering wheel.
Jack stopped chewing and stared at him.
"The baby?" Jack repeated.
Ianto's right knee bounced as he laughed nervously. "You know, when the baby's born." Practical question, Ianto thought. Every father has to think about where a baby should be placed in an ultra-top secret international facility. "M-maybe a nanny, too?"
"A nanny?" Jack sounded like he couldn't move beyond repeating everything Ianto says. He made an odd sound. "You mean like…training Janet to baby-sit?"
"Ye—No! Of course not! I just thought we should consider opinions right now."
Jack sighed. "You know, male pregnancies take the same amount of time compared to your twenty first century pregnancies. Nine months, Ianto. Our kid is not coming out tomorrow."
"Well, yes, but I think there's a lot we have to prepare for and it's better to do it now before you…you know…become really pregnant?"
"Really pregnant?" Jack snorted. He stared out the window on his side. "Is that what you people call it these days?"
Ianto hated when Jack referred to him, to anyone as 'you people'. It was a none too subtle reminder that Jack was different compared to the rest of them, at least in Jack's eyes; two simple words that Jack placed between him and the rest of the world.
"I wouldn't know," Ianto said lightly, his eyes fixed to the front because he hated that faraway look Jack gets sometimes, "I don't know anyone pregnant these days."
"I thought you have a lot of nieces and nephews," Jack mumbled. He brushed idly for crumbs on his lap.
"Wasn't there when they were born. One day my family rang me up and said I was going to be an uncle and months later, I just was." Ianto's mouth twisted. He could feel Jack looking at him.
"Torchwood." Ianto shrugged, but there was a lump in his throat. Torchwood One, Lisa, Cybermen, Saxon; it was unbelievable how much time had past.
Ianto tried to soften the memories with a lopsided grin. "So, what would you call it in your time?"
Jack fell silent. He popped the remaining corner of the toast in his mouth.
Ianto flicked a gaze to his left. "Jack?"
Jack studied Ianto wordlessly. Then, his eyes faced forward.
"Your light's turned," he pointed out, mildly. A few horns resentfully blared behind them.
Jack lurched back into his seat as Ianto hastily pressed on the petrol.
"Pickles and…cheese?"
Ianto swallowed and gulped back the nausea that followed the thought of the unappetizing combination.
The girl behind the counter smiled brightly. Her auburn hair was up in damp curls that reminded Ianto of a bird's nest he once found when he was a boy; the barista was flushed because working in a café seven months pregnant surely can't be optimal.
"That sounds…interesting," Ianto said carefully. He kept his voice as neutral as possible. He had plenty of practice; there were far too many calls to soothe idiotic politicians' feathers. Jack made a good leader, but a horrible diplomat.
Ianto collected his tray of hot chocolates and an orange pineapple smoothie (Owen said Jack should have more folic acid). Out of guilt and for the fact the server had to waddle to the register, Ianto quietly stuffed a five-pound note into the tip jar.
Curls bounced as the barista laughed. She looked far too young to be a mother a second time around. She looked as young as Lisa had been, a comparison that made Ianto avert his gaze when she laughed again. Ianto absently wondered what her mate said when the barista declared for the first time she was pregnant.
"With Lily, I wanted squid and celery almost every night," she giggled as she totted up the drinks and the desserts Ianto thought the others might like; a consolation prize of sorts as they were all deprived of coffee now.
Ianto's Adam's apple bobbed. "N-not pickles and cheese?" he asked weakly. Ianto was trying to convince himself that getting Jack pickles and cheese wouldn't be terrible. He was tempted to tell her to keep the change and escape before he was told anything more.
Someone on the queue snorted behind him. A petite redhead who vaguely reminded him of a very young Jo Brand waved a hand.
"When I had my first," the woman directed her comment to Ianto and it was alarming how the other two women in the queue merely snickered, "it was those salt and vinegar potato crisps."
Ianto brightened. "That doesn't sound too ba—"
"With marmite," the woman finished.
The smile dropped.
The clerk chuckled. "That's a new one." She extended the change to Ianto, who grabbed it quickly because suddenly, the clerk placed a hand to her lower back and exhaled.
"Brat," the barista grumbled before she patted her frightfully large belly.
Ianto tried hard not to stare. "Uh…so…these cravings are…um…pretty common when you're…?" Ianto's throat worked at the knowing nods across the counter and behind him. "Ah…I see."
She smiled up at Ianto. "Price to pay, I suppose." Her hand softened to an affectionate rub on the top of her swollen stomach. Her apron's logo was distorted draped over her middle. The woman grimaced and Ianto wondered if he should ring up 999.
"Have a nice day," the barista bade and Ianto wasn't sure if he had returned it as he stumbled out the door. This was the last time he made small talk with anyone. It seemed like everyone these days was either pregnant or knew someone who was.
By the time Ianto returned to the Tourist center, he had nearly convinced himself that the frightening ordeal of a pregnant woman couldn't possibly happen to Jack. Jack has been most insistent that aside from the miniature biological lifeform growing in an artificial womb inside him, everything else was the same. And so far, for the past three days since Jack had told him, aside from some impressive temper flares directed thankfully at Whitehall and not Torchwood, Jack seemed like Jack.
But was it the same? As the lift carried him down to the lower levels, Ianto leaned against the wall and tried to think of any outward signs. He screwed up his face.
Did he even know what to look for?
"Moroccan chocolate," Ianto announced by way of greeting as he entered the Hub and distributed the treats. He paused at the sight of the open office door.
"Jack went out," Tosh explained. "Something about doing recon on the Mayor's office again and making sure history doesn't repeat itself."
Ianto's brow knitted. "Okay," he said slowly. Was it safe for Jack to be out there in his condition? Then again, Jack was active in the field for weeks before he told Ianto. He bit his lower lip to keep from frowning.
The urge to call Jack to see where he was—Jack wasn't a child, he was carrying one—was squelched. Ianto's fingers twitched, nevertheless, so he covered it by holding up the paper sack of treats. "Found some nice tea cakes I thought you all might like."
Gwen gave him a squishy hug—she'd been giving them a lot to him and Jack lately—and grabbed three cakes out of the bag before she pressed a plastic bag to his free hand.
"By the way, I was at the newsstand by Savoy this morning," Gwen mumbled around her bite of cake. "Oh God, this is good. Tosh, try one." She crammed the rest in and passed a covered cup to Tosh behind her. "There were a few magazines I thought you and Jack might want to look at."
Ianto bit back a groan as he opened the bag and peered inside. Big, bright eyes on mostly pink, glossy covers blinked up at him. They also looked very familiar; Ianto had driven to a Tesco this morning. They were still sitting in the boot of his car because he panicked when he stood there in the garage and realized the shopping bag was distressingly transparent.
"That's very sweet of you, but I don't think these apply to Jack," Ianto protested faintly because saying thank you for the maternity literature would feel too strange. He set the bag of teacakes down in front of Tosh.
"Jack's human," Gwen said as she dropped into her seat, her eyes glued to her screen. She scowled at whatever she read on her computer. "Might be good to know what to expect. I hear stories." Gwen shuddered. "Some were enough to make me swear off sex." Gwen paused. "Almost."
Ianto suddenly felt the need to sit down. He hugged the bag of magazines to his chest. "S-stories?"
"About the labor, the swollen ankles and ooh, when I first started in the force, there was this one woman on the M11 and she started having…" Gwen hesitated and glanced over her shoulder. The smile she gave Ianto was far too wide to be reassuring.
"Never mind." Gwen shooed him away. "Just thought they might make good reading."
"What will?" Owen yawned as he trudged over to Ianto with his eyes closed, yet still managing to avoid Tosh's chair. He stretched out a hand blindly, grabbed a cup and took a long gulp. His eyes popped open.
"Oi." Owen pulled the cup away from him, his face screwed up in disgust.
"You said no coffee for Jack," Tosh reminded him. She smiled at Ianto before reaching over for the plate of teacakes. She rolled her eyes when Owen stretched his arm over her shoulder to stick his hand in the sack. He grabbed a few cakes like a crane claw sinking down to snag a plush toy.
"I looked at some of the articles before," Tosh added. She missed Ianto's frantic look cast her way. "They could be useful. You never know."
"What articles?" Owen demanded, his mouth full of cake. He snatched the bag before Ianto could stop him and poked a nose into the bag. Owen blinked. He looked up at Ianto back at the bag, back at Ianto again.
"Go on," Ianto sighed and resigned himself to a few hours of ridicule. "I know you want to say it." He blinked at one magazine thrust at him, curled open to an article that read "What to Expect When You're Expecting".
"I would start with that one," Owen said gruffly with a finger jabbing at the title. He retrieved his cup before he reached over Tosh again.
And took the whole sack of teacakes.
"Owen!" Tosh yelped but Owen had already escaped to the medical bay.
Jack tasted of the sweet and sour pork they had eaten for dinner. Ianto wondered if Jack could taste in his mouth the red wine he'd imbibed before. He wondered if that violated Owen's warning against alcohol.
Ianto hummed as he felt Jack's cock brush against his, hot and throbbing. It was both hesitant and demanding as Jack ground his hips against Ianto's, rubbing along his length until it felt like their skins would simply fall away and they would shed into something new and unrecognizable.
Jack's fingers were inside him even as Ianto breached him with his cock. There was a half-laugh, breathless and almost triumphant as Ianto filled Jack inch after inch. Jack urged Ianto deeper with an occasional lift of his pelvis against him. Jack's fingers hitched then echoed the thrusts Ianto's hips made, digits twisting with a mix of vengeance and ecstasy each time Ianto's cock pushed and rubbed against that deep spot inside.
It was easy to forget things should be different now with Jack writhing underneath him, flushed and panting. Every so often, Jack ground back onto Ianto's cock even as his fingers massaged Ianto's insides, spurning him on.
Ianto dropped his head over Jack's chest, groaning as Jack clenched around him and something loosened and released deep in his gut. He felt Jack arch off the bed, his abdomen taut and white with strain as he rode out his own release with his eyes closed, his mouth open.
It was times like these, when all Ianto could feel, all he would ever want was Jack, when Ianto felt cowed and diminished by the enormity of Jack Harkness. Ianto braced his hands on Jack's sides—to hold him down, to hold him close, it never mattered anymore—and Ianto stared at Jack's look of concentration, his eyes shut. Whether Ianto was in Jack or vice versa, Jack's eyes were always shut.
"What do you see?" Ianto gasped as Jack's body embraced his cock and ignited blue light behind his eyes. Ianto groaned.
"You," Jack whispered before one last push from Ianto, deeper than the rest, dimming everything around Ianto then exploding in heightened color and light.
"Only you," Jack hissed out between clenched teeth, his head thrown back as his palms flexed and curled on Ianto's shoulders. No more words as Ianto slammed hard into Jack, hard enough they both gasped.
Ianto kept his eyes open when he finally came, his stare glued to Jack as intensely as when Jack closes his eyes. Ripples of pleasure, of JackJackJack washed over him. Jack surged off the bed when he came. Ianto gave a few more snaps of his hips, more to feel his own seed coating the heated insides of Jack's body before he slipped out. They both made a sound deep in their throats at the loss.
Ianto slumped halfway across Jack, his chest heaving and Ianto indulged in the strange sense of peace that Jack's weight gave breathing against him. He lightly touched Jack's ear by him, caressed the curve of an exposed throat.
The bedroom was dark, shrouded in shadow, yet oddly comforting as Ianto caressed, explored Jack with his hands and mouth.
"I think we need to move the rest of your stuff in here while we still can," Ianto murmured, his mouth grazing across Jack's brow with a light touch. They were still in the process of 'moving in'. They were now also in the process of being a family as well. Ianto's head spun once more, but it wasn't because of the stickiness he could feel on Jack's thighs. It seemed like time was stolen between them.
Jack was still a little breathless when he brushed a knuckle down Ianto's Adam's apple. It seemed to take him longer these days to recover and Ianto didn't know if he should worry about that or not.
"Sure I can't convince you to get a chandelier?" Jack chuckled at Ianto's glare. "Hey, babies like shiny things! We won't have to get one of those hanging mobile things."
Ianto stilled. That's right. Where would they put the baby? The one bedroom flat was perfect at a time when Ianto thought he could save Lisa, perfect later when he invited Jack to share his life, but one bedroom was one bedroom too small for a baby. The living room? The bedroom? Surely not the kitchen? Is it safer in the same room? And what about years later? Something knotted inside.
Jack reached up and cupped his face.
"Okay," Jack joked gently. "We could forget about the chandelier." His smile dimmed. "What?"
Both hands moved and Ianto cradled Jack's shoulders. He lowered his mouth to meet Jack's and sealed his lips over the slightly parted ones, tasting the dry exhales Jack made. Ianto twisted around and kept himself above Jack's body with his elbows.
"What are we doing, Jack?" Ianto asked quietly.
"Talking about redecorating. And having really good sex," Jack replied, his chest still heaving hard against Ianto. He grinned sloppily before he reached up and flicked at an unruly spike of hair.
"Make that fantastic sex," Jack amended. His smile dropped completely when he studied Ianto. "But that's not your question, is it?" Jack lowered his hands and folded them over his stomach.
Ianto lifted his shoulders once. "It's silly. I don't know what to ask really," he murmured. That was a lie. He didn't know which to ask. It seemed each question only invited more questions.
"But you still want to ask," Jack guessed. He stared intently at Ianto.
It felt like he should. Ianto nodded. Wasn't this what he should be doing while life grows inside Jack? Ianto wished someone could tell him. He felt like a fool, reading articles in the sheltered dark of the vaults, staring at pregnant women tongue-tied and awkward. This wasn't an alien or something from the Rift; this was his child. He should know what to do, an instinctual part deep inside reviving to guide him in all the proper ways of becoming a parent.
Ianto dipped his head and fitted his mouth over Jack's, his tongue light and teasing. Jack opened his mouth, his hands on Ianto's face.
"What more do you want to know besides this?" Jack asked softly when they parted. Unbidden, Ianto's eyes went to the hand on Jack's belly.
Ianto laughed strangely. "Everything?"
Jack carded a hand through Ianto's hair, brushing strands back. "That's a tall order."
"Can you blame me?" Ianto rocked gently against Jack's stomach. "The enormity of what you told me…I think it's only now starting to sink in."
"I'm having a baby," Jack murmured as he arched against Ianto, his hands loose fists on Ianto's hair. "It's not rocket science, not that it's ever that outdated. Rocket science evolved into—"
Someone spent too much time with attention deficit Time Lords. "Jack?"
Jack murmured an inquisitive note to him.
"Not helping."
Jack chuckled. "Sorry. Okay, so what do you want to ask me?"
It was at the tip of his tongue; everything he wanted to ask, issues the articles brought up. So much needed to be done. Ianto's hand floated over Jack's jaw. He swallowed.
"Ianto?"
"Am I…am I crushing you?" Ianto asked softly.
Jack heard the plural in the question. His mouth crinkled downward and he shook his head.
Ianto settled carefully next to Jack because no matter what Jack said, it didn't feel right to lay heavily on top of him now.
"I won't break," Jack sighed as he rolled over to face Ianto. "You know that, right? The womb is a genetically altered one, but with thicker lining, similar to a feline's." Jack waggled his eyebrows at Ianto and teeth flashed in a cheeky grin. "Because males are known to be more active."
It was hard not to flinch at the word 'womb'. Ianto tentatively rested his fingers on Jack's stomach and traced the ridges of muscle that expanded with breath. He blinked when Jack inhaled, deep into his belly and held it, giving Ianto a glimpse of roundness before he exhaled and Jack was just Jack again.
His mouth was suddenly dry. His fingers tingled where they contacted the gentle curve before. Jack studied him as he settled a flat palm on Jack's stomach.
"You are okay with this, right? Tell me you're okay with this," Jack said quietly. He took a deep breath again.
Ianto stared at his hand resting on Jack's expanded belly. "I-I'm okay with this."
"Yeah," Jack murmured. He exhaled long and low. "Yeah. All right."
"When," Ianto rasped as he stroked the flat planes of skin that would someday be swollen with life, "when will you start showing?"
A shoulder rose then dropped. "I'm thinking after six months…maybe seven. I'm not really sur—it's different with everyone." Jack's answer was subdued, matching the gloom of their bedroom.
It was hard to imagine Jack ever looking different from the way he is now. Jack was constant, a teardrop frozen in time, but here was Jack changing.
"Six months," Ianto breathed. He stroked Jack's abdomen again, his fingers played across Jack's chest and trailed down. "Hard to picture what you'll look like." Ianto kissed a subtle curve of a rib when Jack sucked in his stomach.
"Yeah." Jack studied Ianto. "Hey. You okay?"
Shouldn't that be a question he asks Jack? Ianto lay on his back and felt Jack do the same next to him, their arms barely touching. "I'm all right," Ianto murmured. "Just trying to…you know…six months from now."
"Still one hundred and eighty days away," Jack whispered.
Ianto didn't correct him; there would be less than that now and some months were shorter than others. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Should he feel glad? Anxious? Ianto rested his head on Jack's arm, felt Jack's chin on top of his head. Ianto stared out of their bedroom, tried to imagine the dresser gone and a wooden crib in its place. He fell asleep to the lullaby of Jack's breathing.
III. Try, try, try…
The next attempt in trying to talk to Jack was a graceless one.
"Should you be eating that?" Ianto blurted out.
Jack's right eyebrow rose and the fish froze just shy of being devoured.
"Is there something wrong with it?" Jack pulled the fried piece away from his mouth and searched for aliens. "I'm pretty sure it's fish."
"It is," Ianto exasperated, "but it's fish."
The eyebrow rose even higher and Jack was looking very…Spockish.
"I assumed when I ordered fish and chips for lunch that fish would come with the chips." Jack popped the crunchy seafood into his mouth. Jack sat back in his seat, his legs precariously balanced on his desk.
There was an urge to tell Jack to sit up. "Yes, but fish contains some traces of mercury." The article in one of Gwen's magazines tempted Ianto to override Jack's order before to a nice salad until he realized how ridiculous it sounded and didn't.
"Hm, mercury was still heavy this century until the oceans—" Jack shook his head. "Never mind. So, fish has mercury."
"Well," Ianto mumbled. He was suddenly feeling very foolish. He squirmed on the edge of the desk. "It's said that women should avoid eating seafood when they're pregnant so I thought…"
Jack lobbed a chip at him.
"When it's your turn to carry a baby, I'll remember not to order you any fish and chips." Jack abruptly rose to his feet and ignored the rest of his food. "Gwen wanted me to review something."
Ianto stared at Jack's departing back, aghast.
His turn?
Jack was joking, right?
An article in one magazine itemized the symptoms by weeks and offered a list that spanned thirty-six weeks that was by far, the most intimidating. Ianto had stuffed Gwen's bag of literature into the cabinets, behind the dishes because he still couldn't bring himself to take out the ones from the boot of his car. Post-its peppered the slick pages because the note-taking of particulars reduced the article to simple research and that calmed him. The sidebar comment from one mother about her eighteen hours of labor had left his insides in knots.
Ianto leaned against the counter by the kitchen area as he gaped at the photo of a rather sticky looking baby crying red-faced cradled in a pair of anonymous gloved hands. It was mind-boggling how they go from that to the bright, shining faces he sees with his or her mother on the Plass. Good lord, do they always look that…wrinkly? His nieces and nephews when he saw them were smooth-cheeked, pink and smiling nippers. Ianto tried to envision them like…that. Would Jack's baby be the same? The mother beaming at him from the other page, all huge and proud, didn't appear to be distressed or concerned about the list of symptoms printed besides her.
Ianto gulped and closed the publication. He ran a hand through his hair. He wished he'd never clapped eyes upon those blasted magazines. If anything, what he thought he knew has now simply disintegrated into more questions that no one else seem to be asking. Gwen and Tosh appeared more delighted and fascinated by it. Owen…well, Owen was Owen. And Jack…Ianto sighed. Aside from the daily check-ups Owen insisted on, no one would suspect anything different.
Owen said it would be done by Cesarean but would there still be labor then? What about Jack's healing abilities? Could they do a Cesarean? What about feeding the baby? Ianto tugged at his collar. Now there was a question he doubted anyone could answer except Jack and to his ire, Jack didn't appear compelled to reply anytime soon.
Of course, it would help if Ianto asked.
Ianto shot a look towards Jack's office around the antique, brass coffee maker that burbled and smoked. Jack was talking to Tosh by the doorway, one hand tucked in his trouser pocket, his braces off his shoulders as usual, looking perfectly at ease and grinning while Tosh's hands flew in the air with her words. Jack made some sort of gesture, pretended to waddle and Tosh giggled with an ease Ianto envied. It irked him when Tosh patted Jack's stomach and all Jack would do was puff out and grin. She snickered some sort of comment that made Jack snort. He tipped his head back and laughed and unlike the barista, Jack didn't put a hand on his belly or on his back and grimace.
Tentatively, Ianto peeled back a page to the article again. He tried to imagine Jack, large, hands on his stomach and that bubble of giggles Ianto suspected would come out shrill was pressing at his throat again. It'll probably burst the moment Jack does start showing or maybe at the eighteenth hour of labor, although if this was to be done by Caesarian, does that mean no—
"What are you reading?"
Ianto yelped, a little louder than necessary, and spun around to stare at Jack.
Jack winced, stuck a finger in his ear and opened his mouth to complain when his eyes fell onto the counter.
Jack's mouth snapped shut.
"Oh." Jack picked up the magazine, looked at the cover then quickly scanned the article. His blue eyes darted left to right as he skimmed; his fingers tentatively touched the Post-its as if to peel them off. He didn't. Done, Jack leveled a look at Ianto.
Ianto felt a twitch at the corner of his mouth. His fingers drummed nervously on the counter until he heard himself and stopped.
"I uh…had questions," Ianto stammered.
"I know. You may have mentioned that many times before," Jack said low and it seemed like the whole Hub has gone quiet behind them.
"Yes…well…you know me…" Ianto shrugged but it felt like his head was barely on his shoulders. "Need to know everything."
Jack's chuckle sounded like it hurt.
"Coffee?" Ianto offered without thinking, with a shaky smile and a mug. He blanched when Jack reached for it.
"No, no! No caffeine! I forgot!" Hot coffee sloshed, nearly scalding Jack's fingers when Ianto snatched the mug back.
"Tea, maybe—No, no, that has caffeine, too. Oh, damn, damn…" Ianto grinned—at least he hoped it was a grin—and twisted around to stick his head in the fridge. Yes! Ianto grabbed it like a lifeline.
"Smoothie?" Ianto straightened, the cool cup in his fist. He set it down on the counter. "Here you go."
Jack stared at the plastic cup then raised his eyes at Ianto.
"Let me guess?" Jack drawled. "Owen said no coffee."
"He also said you need more folic acid…like fruit and um…fruit." Ianto knew he was babbling, but it was all he could think of as he tracked the rolled up magazine going up and down like a club in Jack's grip. "If you don't like this one, I-I have other flavors."
"Flavors?" Jack repeated. He leaned forward over the counter to peer at their fridge until he caught Ianto staring worriedly at his stomach pressing on the edge. Jack straightened, backed a step and tapped the magazine on an open palm.
"Just how many smoothies did you get?"
Ianto tugged at his collar, straightened his tie then tugged at the neckline again. "F-five."
"Five?" Jack repeated, his voice a tad higher.
"It was six," Ianto offered, his words just short of a whisper. "But Gwen drank one."
Jack pursed his lips. His eyes flicked towards the fridge then to Ianto. A hand rested on his stomach just for a moment and dropped immediately.
A shadow crossed over Jack. "Folic acid, huh?" Jack murmured, more to himself.
"It's…it's good for the baby or-or so I've been told," Ianto stammered.
Jack looked down at the magazine he held. A flinch darted across, but his face smoothed out instantly. He set it back down on the counter and carefully smoothed it out with both hands.
"I think Owen wants me to eat more fruit, not drown in it," Jack said. He winked, but his eyes were dull when Jack grabbed the sweating cup of overly yellow, frothy smoothie and strode back to his office.
That night, Jack complained he was nauseous so all he had was toast and some chicken broth for dinner. His mouth tasted dry and salty when Ianto kissed him.
His hands traced Jack's jaw while Jack slid deep into Ianto's body, without pause because by now, he knew the way and even if he didn't, Ianto couldn't find it in him to deny Jack.
Ianto watched Jack, who watched him as he rocked into Ianto with solid strokes, powerful and single-minded like there was something Jack wanted to say.
"What?" Ianto panted. He threw his head back and groaned as he felt Jack fill him. Ianto curled his hands around Jack's thighs, making a sound rumble deep in his throat and he craned his head back to offer Jack his neck.
Jack's mouth clamped over the pulse beating frantically like a trapped bird and there was a second of concern that Jack might actually bite and mark, but his concern was replaced with a primal thirst of his own to mark and be marked. Baser of desires, Ianto thought absently as he reached for Jack's hip, his hands clawing apart cheeks, a finger searching for that puckered entrance.
There was an undeniable taste of mouth and sweat and life as Jack's hips did an odd jerk and pushed back on Ianto's fingers, rocking with the same purpose Ianto felt pistoning into him before.
"Easy," Ianto murmured as Jack all but fucked himself on Ianto's fingers. Fucked was the only way to describe the almost punishing pace Jack slammed down into Ianto's fingers.
"Jack, hold on, stop, wait!" Ianto pulled free, his hands on the bony ridges of Jack's hips, pushing him back when it looked like Jack's intent was to impale himself on Ianto's erection.
"What? What's wrong?" Jack gasped. His eyes cleared and he looked confused.
"What's wrong? What's wrong? I should be asking you that!" Ianto couldn't stop himself from shouting and the specks of drying blood he saw on the fingertips of his right hand merely made his insides ice over, his voice louder.
"Christ, Jack, what the bloody hell were you thinking? We never let it get to the point of bleeding!"
Jack's eyes widened. "Did I hurt—"
"No, you prat, you made me hurt you!" Ianto pushed up on his elbows. Jack's bewilderment only made the screaming inside worse. "What's wrong? You've never…"
Gray clouded over blue and Jack shifted off Ianto with an easy shrug.
"I got a little…" Jack shrugged again. "It's not like we've never been…rambunctious before." And for a second, Jack looked like Jack with that crooked, wicked grin that always worked like a siren's call.
Ianto flushed because yes, he could still feel the bite of the file cabinets, the archives' concrete walls, the coarse thread of the couch and all the places they had been…rambunctious.
"Yes," Ianto argued reluctantly, "but that was before you became pregnant." He stopped when Jack's smile shifted, never disappearing completely but dimming like a layer was peeled away.
"I haven't changed." Jack said low, his eyes hooded. "You said you were fine about this."
"And I am, I just…" Ianto slumped back on the mound of pillows behind. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the other. "God…" Ianto clenched his right hand into a fist, sealing the fingers away from sight. He levered off the bed. Ianto didn't bother to retrieve a robe or slippers and padded into the bathroom with his stained hand still in a fist. He only opened it when he turned on the faucet.
It wasn't a lot of blood, Ianto reasoned as he scrubbed his hand. He tried to even out his breathing as he rinsed suds off his fingers. There would be more blood from a paper cut. By the time the thin pink streaks swirled down the sink, Ianto was breathing more calmly and his fingers were steady again. Ianto braced himself on either side of his sink and he stared at the mirror. The steam dissolved back into his image.
Ianto closed his eyes and tore away from the mirror. He stepped back into the bedroom.
Jack lay on his back, his eyes on the ceiling. His gaze lowered towards Ianto by the door. He tracked Ianto as he climbed back in and settled down next to Jack, a breath away only, but far enough.
"You still want this?" Jack's question was deceptively casual. He folded his hands over his stomach.
"I do." Ianto didn't hesitate and he could sense Jack relaxing next to him. "I'm trying to…sort things out here. I don't know what we're supposed to be doing right now."
Jack sighed. "Why do we have to do anything?"
"Jack, you're a man and you're pregnant."
Jack snorted. He breathed out slowly and covered his eyes with an arm. "You know," Jack bit out, "in my time, this wasn't such a big issue. This—"
"This is happening in this century! With this century's archaic technology!" Ianto snapped. He sat up and rested on his side to look at Jack. "And you…you act like…I don't know…you don't act pregnant!"
Jack looked sharply at Ianto. "How is a pregnant man supposed to act?"
"I-I don't know! Don't you understand? I. Don't. Know. I have nothing to go on about this! Just…You can't expect us to be so blasé about this like you are, pretending you're not even pregnant!"
"I'm not…" Jack stared. "I'm not pretending anything! Nothing's changed! I'm just…" Jack set his jaw and faced the ceiling.
Ianto covered his eyes with a hand and breathed out harshly. "I…I'm not sure what we need to do here!"
"Why do you have to do anything?" Jack snapped. "We be careful, take a few scans and I have this baby in nine months."
"That's it?" Ianto moved both hands to cover his face. "Jack, it can't possibly…I-I have all these questions I know I should be asking but how to ask them is beyond me!" Ianto's shoulders slumped. "It seems like everyone else is dealing with this all right, except me."
Jack studied Ianto, his expression blank.
"So what do you want to know?"
Ianto punched the duvet between them.
"That's just it. I…I just don't know," Ianto admitted. It seemed like it was the only thing he could say these days. His head dropped to his chest. "I…I don't think I'm ready to ask."
Part 2
Title: Month 1: Pillow Talk
Author: d8rkmessngr
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Janto
Summary: There was bound to be questions. After "Month 1: Detours" but before "Month 2: Wednesday Evening".
Warning: Angst, H/C, language, past mpreg, past miscarriage, MPreg, SMUT!
Disclaimer: TW is owned by RTD and BBC. Just borrowing custody for a tick.
Author's Note: Direct quotes in italics are from: http://www.whattoexpect.com/. Many hugs to
soullessminion for the beta and the help!Master Fic List: here
Additional Note: As you may have noticed by now, some of the fics in this series will be written out of order, hence the Month 1, Month 2 designation. The timeline of this series' chapters are as follows:
1. Month 0: Sex Education
2. Month 0: The Key To Appropriate Proclaimations In A More Personal Matter
3. Month 1: Detours
4. Pillow Talk
5. Month 2: Wednesday Evening
6. Month 3: Name Calling
I. Start at the beginning…
The problem with sleeping with a man, especially a man like Jack Harkness, is that talking always ended up becoming…something else. Talk never came in the form of somber dinners, quiet moments or girlfriends with sobering "We need to talk" statements. No, men don't sit down and have deep discussions unless corralled into meeting rooms with promises of coffee and edibles. Men talked in fragments that would later on be stitched together into whole conversations.
Lisa always had a particular look to her whenever something bothered her. Her face would become pinched yet melancholy, her eyes faraway even when he talked to her. It told him she was thinking and that usually meant they were going to sit down soon on her favorite couch and start talking.
But that was Lisa.
Jack's mood was as fleeting as a thought and like most men, he would avoid conversation by ironically offering more talk: endless chatter about things that were often beyond anyone's comprehension or imagination.
After Jack's declaration about impending parenthood on a grassy knoll filled with belligerent sheep, they drove back to Torchwood. Owen then promptly sat Ianto down, had Jack lie gingerly across a gurney and switched on the scanner. Ianto, his insides still warm and his head lightheaded about this new stage in his life, gaped at the gray scan of a little dot in a mass of shadows that represented organs. He stared while Jack redressed, didn't blink while Owen prattled on about how many weeks—weeks?—Jack was along. Owen then told them both to just go home and digest.
Ianto lay on their bed, eyes on the ceiling.
Digesting.
…
Good lord.
They were going to have a baby.
His right side was warmed by the close proximity of Jack, lying on his stomach, resting lightly next to him. The covers were kicked off at some point during the night because Ianto had set the flat's thermostat higher when he noticed Jack still looked cold. Most of Jack's warmer clothing was still in cardboard boxes stacked in the office, in a sort of domestic limbo, waiting to be moved to Ianto's flat. Nevertheless, regardless of looking chilled, Jack seemed more than happy to remove Ianto's clothing and his own anyway before they curled around each other in bed. Neither one of them felt the inclination to untangle themselves from each other to pad across the bedroom to fix the temperature.
"I thought I'm the one usually up at nights," Jack mumbled just off his right ear. Jack fidgeted and skin brushing against skin distracting Ianto from whatever witty—least he hoped it would be—remark he was going to say.
Ianto turned his head and studied the sleek profile of Jack's back. There were moments when all Ianto wanted to do was trail a finger down that muscular torso and firm legs that vanished under a mound of blankets piled at the foot of the bed now.
"Ianto?" Jack lifted his head up and his body did an interesting move like a sleek cat stretching in the sun. The two keys hanging around his neck swayed and gleamed like jewels over the tender hollow of his throat. His buttocks clenched and heat pooled down Ianto's groin at the sight. Even unintentionally, Jack moved with riveting grace that beckoned.
"Sorry." Ianto realized his mouth was open and God knows how he must look gawping at Jack.
There was a throaty chuckle, a sly brush of a foot up along the inside of his leg that told him Jack didn't mind.
"Sorry for what?" Jack leaned over. He pressed open-mouthed kisses over Ianto's throat, his shoulder and then drifted down to a nipple.
Ianto swallowed convulsively and closed his eyes. The minute nips, teasing grazing of teeth, fingers curling around his cock with all the coyness of a cat creeping up on prey; Ianto could see Jack clearly in his mind, drawn with the brushstrokes of tactile touches on his skin.
"For…staring," Ianto managed and tried to sound like he was talking about the monthly operation budget of paper and coffee beans, not currently being devoured slowly by Jack's lapping tongue. The keys felt cool skimming across his skin. "I was…thinking…"
The tip of Jack's tongue nudged then kneaded the nipple until Ianto groaned and arched into Jack's mouth.
"Thinking's no fun." Jack's response was more a purr than voice. Jack looked up with darkened eyes but after a moment, he tilted his head in consideration. To Ianto's dismay, Jack stopped. He propped up higher on his elbows.
"Thinking about what exactly?" Jack studied Ianto before his mouth twitched. "Ah," he said before lowering back down onto the bed again, his head pillowed by his arms.
"You have questions. We didn't really have a chance to talk about this before, huh?" Jack turned his head to face Ianto. The smoky quality that swirled in Jack's eyes before faded to a bleak blue. "Go on," he invited. Legs straightened and closed, face expectant, the crooked smile Jack wore faded to a more serious expression that made Ianto squirm.
Ianto turned on his side and tentatively touched Jack's face, his thumb wiping across Jack's lower lip as his body wiggled close enough to feel the heat of Jack's body.
"What do you want to know?" Jack stared back with a blank face. Ianto wished Jack looked more…he wasn't sure what he wanted Jack to look like; anything was better than looking like he was just talking about the rift or the weather. Even after looking at the scans, it was hard to associate that with the man lying next to him.
Why did Jack choose to have the womb? Did it hurt all those months before? Will it hurt this time? Was he happy about the baby? Did Jack know this would happen? What will change? What will be different? Would anything stay the same?
Everything swirled around Ianto's head. They were all good, proper, responsible questions any man in his situation—the baby part, not the sleeping with a male time traveler part—would ask. But all that came out, in the soup of who, what, how and why was…
"Are you squishing the baby lying on your stomach like that?"
Jack blinked and something flashed across his face that Ianto couldn't decipher. He raised his head, leaned across and kissed Ianto hard in the mouth.
"No. I don't think you can really hurt the baby like that," Jack chuckled awkwardly. It sounded like he wasn't sure if it was all right to laugh or not. However, he did roll to his side, his back facing Ianto.
Ianto stared at the back. He rested his forehead between the shoulders and felt Jack flinch. Ianto frowned.
"Jack?"
There was a soft sigh.
"Get some sleep." Jack didn't flinch again when Ianto kissed his spine, lips mapping the ridged knobs on his back.
"Night," Ianto whispered. Jack didn't reply though. Remarkably, he was already asleep. Ianto wondered if it was because of the baby and made a mental note to ask Jack about that.
Ianto laid there, his hand caressing the rounded back, as he stared at the back of Jack's head. After a few minutes, Ianto sat up and grabbed the duvet bunched at the foot of the bed. Carefully, he pulled it up over their shoulders even though sweat clung to his forehead. Jack still looked cold.
Another thing he should ask Jack about.
II. If at first you don't succeed…
Ianto tried a question on their way to work. Together. That was new, too, because couples—it occurred to Ianto while making the toast they could be called that now—apparently go to work together. Even with Lisa, they'd gone to Torchwood One at separate times; a researcher's shift was far more regular than one from the labs and more prone to complaints about the recent congestion tax.
"Should we set something up in Torchwood?" Ianto asked, casually as he waited for the traffic light to go from red to green. Ianto drove because he thought he should from now on with Jack being pregnant and all. It was safer. That was the reason Ianto told his partner. Jack had looked at him funny before he tossed him the keys across the roof of the car and wordlessly went around to the other side of the car. Conversation was sparse between them during the drive. Then again, they were never much for chitchat, either.
"What? A casino?" Jack muttered as he held a triangle of buttered toast because he needed something if he wasn't driving.
Ianto slanted a look at him and Jack snickered.
"All right, all right. What were we really talking about?" Jack munched on the crunchy bread with a grin.
"For the…" Bollocks. Suddenly the words fumbled. "For er…you know…the baby." Ianto fidgeted and his thumbs rapped nervously on the steering wheel.
Jack stopped chewing and stared at him.
"The baby?" Jack repeated.
Ianto's right knee bounced as he laughed nervously. "You know, when the baby's born." Practical question, Ianto thought. Every father has to think about where a baby should be placed in an ultra-top secret international facility. "M-maybe a nanny, too?"
"A nanny?" Jack sounded like he couldn't move beyond repeating everything Ianto says. He made an odd sound. "You mean like…training Janet to baby-sit?"
"Ye—No! Of course not! I just thought we should consider opinions right now."
Jack sighed. "You know, male pregnancies take the same amount of time compared to your twenty first century pregnancies. Nine months, Ianto. Our kid is not coming out tomorrow."
"Well, yes, but I think there's a lot we have to prepare for and it's better to do it now before you…you know…become really pregnant?"
"Really pregnant?" Jack snorted. He stared out the window on his side. "Is that what you people call it these days?"
Ianto hated when Jack referred to him, to anyone as 'you people'. It was a none too subtle reminder that Jack was different compared to the rest of them, at least in Jack's eyes; two simple words that Jack placed between him and the rest of the world.
"I wouldn't know," Ianto said lightly, his eyes fixed to the front because he hated that faraway look Jack gets sometimes, "I don't know anyone pregnant these days."
"I thought you have a lot of nieces and nephews," Jack mumbled. He brushed idly for crumbs on his lap.
"Wasn't there when they were born. One day my family rang me up and said I was going to be an uncle and months later, I just was." Ianto's mouth twisted. He could feel Jack looking at him.
"Torchwood." Ianto shrugged, but there was a lump in his throat. Torchwood One, Lisa, Cybermen, Saxon; it was unbelievable how much time had past.
Ianto tried to soften the memories with a lopsided grin. "So, what would you call it in your time?"
Jack fell silent. He popped the remaining corner of the toast in his mouth.
Ianto flicked a gaze to his left. "Jack?"
Jack studied Ianto wordlessly. Then, his eyes faced forward.
"Your light's turned," he pointed out, mildly. A few horns resentfully blared behind them.
Jack lurched back into his seat as Ianto hastily pressed on the petrol.
"Pickles and…cheese?"
Ianto swallowed and gulped back the nausea that followed the thought of the unappetizing combination.
The girl behind the counter smiled brightly. Her auburn hair was up in damp curls that reminded Ianto of a bird's nest he once found when he was a boy; the barista was flushed because working in a café seven months pregnant surely can't be optimal.
"That sounds…interesting," Ianto said carefully. He kept his voice as neutral as possible. He had plenty of practice; there were far too many calls to soothe idiotic politicians' feathers. Jack made a good leader, but a horrible diplomat.
Ianto collected his tray of hot chocolates and an orange pineapple smoothie (Owen said Jack should have more folic acid). Out of guilt and for the fact the server had to waddle to the register, Ianto quietly stuffed a five-pound note into the tip jar.
Curls bounced as the barista laughed. She looked far too young to be a mother a second time around. She looked as young as Lisa had been, a comparison that made Ianto avert his gaze when she laughed again. Ianto absently wondered what her mate said when the barista declared for the first time she was pregnant.
"With Lily, I wanted squid and celery almost every night," she giggled as she totted up the drinks and the desserts Ianto thought the others might like; a consolation prize of sorts as they were all deprived of coffee now.
Ianto's Adam's apple bobbed. "N-not pickles and cheese?" he asked weakly. Ianto was trying to convince himself that getting Jack pickles and cheese wouldn't be terrible. He was tempted to tell her to keep the change and escape before he was told anything more.
Someone on the queue snorted behind him. A petite redhead who vaguely reminded him of a very young Jo Brand waved a hand.
"When I had my first," the woman directed her comment to Ianto and it was alarming how the other two women in the queue merely snickered, "it was those salt and vinegar potato crisps."
Ianto brightened. "That doesn't sound too ba—"
"With marmite," the woman finished.
The smile dropped.
The clerk chuckled. "That's a new one." She extended the change to Ianto, who grabbed it quickly because suddenly, the clerk placed a hand to her lower back and exhaled.
"Brat," the barista grumbled before she patted her frightfully large belly.
Ianto tried hard not to stare. "Uh…so…these cravings are…um…pretty common when you're…?" Ianto's throat worked at the knowing nods across the counter and behind him. "Ah…I see."
She smiled up at Ianto. "Price to pay, I suppose." Her hand softened to an affectionate rub on the top of her swollen stomach. Her apron's logo was distorted draped over her middle. The woman grimaced and Ianto wondered if he should ring up 999.
"Have a nice day," the barista bade and Ianto wasn't sure if he had returned it as he stumbled out the door. This was the last time he made small talk with anyone. It seemed like everyone these days was either pregnant or knew someone who was.
By the time Ianto returned to the Tourist center, he had nearly convinced himself that the frightening ordeal of a pregnant woman couldn't possibly happen to Jack. Jack has been most insistent that aside from the miniature biological lifeform growing in an artificial womb inside him, everything else was the same. And so far, for the past three days since Jack had told him, aside from some impressive temper flares directed thankfully at Whitehall and not Torchwood, Jack seemed like Jack.
But was it the same? As the lift carried him down to the lower levels, Ianto leaned against the wall and tried to think of any outward signs. He screwed up his face.
Did he even know what to look for?
"Moroccan chocolate," Ianto announced by way of greeting as he entered the Hub and distributed the treats. He paused at the sight of the open office door.
"Jack went out," Tosh explained. "Something about doing recon on the Mayor's office again and making sure history doesn't repeat itself."
Ianto's brow knitted. "Okay," he said slowly. Was it safe for Jack to be out there in his condition? Then again, Jack was active in the field for weeks before he told Ianto. He bit his lower lip to keep from frowning.
The urge to call Jack to see where he was—Jack wasn't a child, he was carrying one—was squelched. Ianto's fingers twitched, nevertheless, so he covered it by holding up the paper sack of treats. "Found some nice tea cakes I thought you all might like."
Gwen gave him a squishy hug—she'd been giving them a lot to him and Jack lately—and grabbed three cakes out of the bag before she pressed a plastic bag to his free hand.
"By the way, I was at the newsstand by Savoy this morning," Gwen mumbled around her bite of cake. "Oh God, this is good. Tosh, try one." She crammed the rest in and passed a covered cup to Tosh behind her. "There were a few magazines I thought you and Jack might want to look at."
Ianto bit back a groan as he opened the bag and peered inside. Big, bright eyes on mostly pink, glossy covers blinked up at him. They also looked very familiar; Ianto had driven to a Tesco this morning. They were still sitting in the boot of his car because he panicked when he stood there in the garage and realized the shopping bag was distressingly transparent.
"That's very sweet of you, but I don't think these apply to Jack," Ianto protested faintly because saying thank you for the maternity literature would feel too strange. He set the bag of teacakes down in front of Tosh.
"Jack's human," Gwen said as she dropped into her seat, her eyes glued to her screen. She scowled at whatever she read on her computer. "Might be good to know what to expect. I hear stories." Gwen shuddered. "Some were enough to make me swear off sex." Gwen paused. "Almost."
Ianto suddenly felt the need to sit down. He hugged the bag of magazines to his chest. "S-stories?"
"About the labor, the swollen ankles and ooh, when I first started in the force, there was this one woman on the M11 and she started having…" Gwen hesitated and glanced over her shoulder. The smile she gave Ianto was far too wide to be reassuring.
"Never mind." Gwen shooed him away. "Just thought they might make good reading."
"What will?" Owen yawned as he trudged over to Ianto with his eyes closed, yet still managing to avoid Tosh's chair. He stretched out a hand blindly, grabbed a cup and took a long gulp. His eyes popped open.
"Oi." Owen pulled the cup away from him, his face screwed up in disgust.
"You said no coffee for Jack," Tosh reminded him. She smiled at Ianto before reaching over for the plate of teacakes. She rolled her eyes when Owen stretched his arm over her shoulder to stick his hand in the sack. He grabbed a few cakes like a crane claw sinking down to snag a plush toy.
"I looked at some of the articles before," Tosh added. She missed Ianto's frantic look cast her way. "They could be useful. You never know."
"What articles?" Owen demanded, his mouth full of cake. He snatched the bag before Ianto could stop him and poked a nose into the bag. Owen blinked. He looked up at Ianto back at the bag, back at Ianto again.
"Go on," Ianto sighed and resigned himself to a few hours of ridicule. "I know you want to say it." He blinked at one magazine thrust at him, curled open to an article that read "What to Expect When You're Expecting".
"I would start with that one," Owen said gruffly with a finger jabbing at the title. He retrieved his cup before he reached over Tosh again.
And took the whole sack of teacakes.
"Owen!" Tosh yelped but Owen had already escaped to the medical bay.
Jack tasted of the sweet and sour pork they had eaten for dinner. Ianto wondered if Jack could taste in his mouth the red wine he'd imbibed before. He wondered if that violated Owen's warning against alcohol.
Ianto hummed as he felt Jack's cock brush against his, hot and throbbing. It was both hesitant and demanding as Jack ground his hips against Ianto's, rubbing along his length until it felt like their skins would simply fall away and they would shed into something new and unrecognizable.
Jack's fingers were inside him even as Ianto breached him with his cock. There was a half-laugh, breathless and almost triumphant as Ianto filled Jack inch after inch. Jack urged Ianto deeper with an occasional lift of his pelvis against him. Jack's fingers hitched then echoed the thrusts Ianto's hips made, digits twisting with a mix of vengeance and ecstasy each time Ianto's cock pushed and rubbed against that deep spot inside.
It was easy to forget things should be different now with Jack writhing underneath him, flushed and panting. Every so often, Jack ground back onto Ianto's cock even as his fingers massaged Ianto's insides, spurning him on.
Ianto dropped his head over Jack's chest, groaning as Jack clenched around him and something loosened and released deep in his gut. He felt Jack arch off the bed, his abdomen taut and white with strain as he rode out his own release with his eyes closed, his mouth open.
It was times like these, when all Ianto could feel, all he would ever want was Jack, when Ianto felt cowed and diminished by the enormity of Jack Harkness. Ianto braced his hands on Jack's sides—to hold him down, to hold him close, it never mattered anymore—and Ianto stared at Jack's look of concentration, his eyes shut. Whether Ianto was in Jack or vice versa, Jack's eyes were always shut.
"What do you see?" Ianto gasped as Jack's body embraced his cock and ignited blue light behind his eyes. Ianto groaned.
"You," Jack whispered before one last push from Ianto, deeper than the rest, dimming everything around Ianto then exploding in heightened color and light.
"Only you," Jack hissed out between clenched teeth, his head thrown back as his palms flexed and curled on Ianto's shoulders. No more words as Ianto slammed hard into Jack, hard enough they both gasped.
Ianto kept his eyes open when he finally came, his stare glued to Jack as intensely as when Jack closes his eyes. Ripples of pleasure, of JackJackJack washed over him. Jack surged off the bed when he came. Ianto gave a few more snaps of his hips, more to feel his own seed coating the heated insides of Jack's body before he slipped out. They both made a sound deep in their throats at the loss.
Ianto slumped halfway across Jack, his chest heaving and Ianto indulged in the strange sense of peace that Jack's weight gave breathing against him. He lightly touched Jack's ear by him, caressed the curve of an exposed throat.
The bedroom was dark, shrouded in shadow, yet oddly comforting as Ianto caressed, explored Jack with his hands and mouth.
"I think we need to move the rest of your stuff in here while we still can," Ianto murmured, his mouth grazing across Jack's brow with a light touch. They were still in the process of 'moving in'. They were now also in the process of being a family as well. Ianto's head spun once more, but it wasn't because of the stickiness he could feel on Jack's thighs. It seemed like time was stolen between them.
Jack was still a little breathless when he brushed a knuckle down Ianto's Adam's apple. It seemed to take him longer these days to recover and Ianto didn't know if he should worry about that or not.
"Sure I can't convince you to get a chandelier?" Jack chuckled at Ianto's glare. "Hey, babies like shiny things! We won't have to get one of those hanging mobile things."
Ianto stilled. That's right. Where would they put the baby? The one bedroom flat was perfect at a time when Ianto thought he could save Lisa, perfect later when he invited Jack to share his life, but one bedroom was one bedroom too small for a baby. The living room? The bedroom? Surely not the kitchen? Is it safer in the same room? And what about years later? Something knotted inside.
Jack reached up and cupped his face.
"Okay," Jack joked gently. "We could forget about the chandelier." His smile dimmed. "What?"
Both hands moved and Ianto cradled Jack's shoulders. He lowered his mouth to meet Jack's and sealed his lips over the slightly parted ones, tasting the dry exhales Jack made. Ianto twisted around and kept himself above Jack's body with his elbows.
"What are we doing, Jack?" Ianto asked quietly.
"Talking about redecorating. And having really good sex," Jack replied, his chest still heaving hard against Ianto. He grinned sloppily before he reached up and flicked at an unruly spike of hair.
"Make that fantastic sex," Jack amended. His smile dropped completely when he studied Ianto. "But that's not your question, is it?" Jack lowered his hands and folded them over his stomach.
Ianto lifted his shoulders once. "It's silly. I don't know what to ask really," he murmured. That was a lie. He didn't know which to ask. It seemed each question only invited more questions.
"But you still want to ask," Jack guessed. He stared intently at Ianto.
It felt like he should. Ianto nodded. Wasn't this what he should be doing while life grows inside Jack? Ianto wished someone could tell him. He felt like a fool, reading articles in the sheltered dark of the vaults, staring at pregnant women tongue-tied and awkward. This wasn't an alien or something from the Rift; this was his child. He should know what to do, an instinctual part deep inside reviving to guide him in all the proper ways of becoming a parent.
Ianto dipped his head and fitted his mouth over Jack's, his tongue light and teasing. Jack opened his mouth, his hands on Ianto's face.
"What more do you want to know besides this?" Jack asked softly when they parted. Unbidden, Ianto's eyes went to the hand on Jack's belly.
Ianto laughed strangely. "Everything?"
Jack carded a hand through Ianto's hair, brushing strands back. "That's a tall order."
"Can you blame me?" Ianto rocked gently against Jack's stomach. "The enormity of what you told me…I think it's only now starting to sink in."
"I'm having a baby," Jack murmured as he arched against Ianto, his hands loose fists on Ianto's hair. "It's not rocket science, not that it's ever that outdated. Rocket science evolved into—"
Someone spent too much time with attention deficit Time Lords. "Jack?"
Jack murmured an inquisitive note to him.
"Not helping."
Jack chuckled. "Sorry. Okay, so what do you want to ask me?"
It was at the tip of his tongue; everything he wanted to ask, issues the articles brought up. So much needed to be done. Ianto's hand floated over Jack's jaw. He swallowed.
"Ianto?"
"Am I…am I crushing you?" Ianto asked softly.
Jack heard the plural in the question. His mouth crinkled downward and he shook his head.
Ianto settled carefully next to Jack because no matter what Jack said, it didn't feel right to lay heavily on top of him now.
"I won't break," Jack sighed as he rolled over to face Ianto. "You know that, right? The womb is a genetically altered one, but with thicker lining, similar to a feline's." Jack waggled his eyebrows at Ianto and teeth flashed in a cheeky grin. "Because males are known to be more active."
It was hard not to flinch at the word 'womb'. Ianto tentatively rested his fingers on Jack's stomach and traced the ridges of muscle that expanded with breath. He blinked when Jack inhaled, deep into his belly and held it, giving Ianto a glimpse of roundness before he exhaled and Jack was just Jack again.
His mouth was suddenly dry. His fingers tingled where they contacted the gentle curve before. Jack studied him as he settled a flat palm on Jack's stomach.
"You are okay with this, right? Tell me you're okay with this," Jack said quietly. He took a deep breath again.
Ianto stared at his hand resting on Jack's expanded belly. "I-I'm okay with this."
"Yeah," Jack murmured. He exhaled long and low. "Yeah. All right."
"When," Ianto rasped as he stroked the flat planes of skin that would someday be swollen with life, "when will you start showing?"
A shoulder rose then dropped. "I'm thinking after six months…maybe seven. I'm not really sur—it's different with everyone." Jack's answer was subdued, matching the gloom of their bedroom.
It was hard to imagine Jack ever looking different from the way he is now. Jack was constant, a teardrop frozen in time, but here was Jack changing.
"Six months," Ianto breathed. He stroked Jack's abdomen again, his fingers played across Jack's chest and trailed down. "Hard to picture what you'll look like." Ianto kissed a subtle curve of a rib when Jack sucked in his stomach.
"Yeah." Jack studied Ianto. "Hey. You okay?"
Shouldn't that be a question he asks Jack? Ianto lay on his back and felt Jack do the same next to him, their arms barely touching. "I'm all right," Ianto murmured. "Just trying to…you know…six months from now."
"Still one hundred and eighty days away," Jack whispered.
Ianto didn't correct him; there would be less than that now and some months were shorter than others. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Should he feel glad? Anxious? Ianto rested his head on Jack's arm, felt Jack's chin on top of his head. Ianto stared out of their bedroom, tried to imagine the dresser gone and a wooden crib in its place. He fell asleep to the lullaby of Jack's breathing.
III. Try, try, try…
The next attempt in trying to talk to Jack was a graceless one.
"Should you be eating that?" Ianto blurted out.
Jack's right eyebrow rose and the fish froze just shy of being devoured.
"Is there something wrong with it?" Jack pulled the fried piece away from his mouth and searched for aliens. "I'm pretty sure it's fish."
"It is," Ianto exasperated, "but it's fish."
The eyebrow rose even higher and Jack was looking very…Spockish.
"I assumed when I ordered fish and chips for lunch that fish would come with the chips." Jack popped the crunchy seafood into his mouth. Jack sat back in his seat, his legs precariously balanced on his desk.
There was an urge to tell Jack to sit up. "Yes, but fish contains some traces of mercury." The article in one of Gwen's magazines tempted Ianto to override Jack's order before to a nice salad until he realized how ridiculous it sounded and didn't.
"Hm, mercury was still heavy this century until the oceans—" Jack shook his head. "Never mind. So, fish has mercury."
"Well," Ianto mumbled. He was suddenly feeling very foolish. He squirmed on the edge of the desk. "It's said that women should avoid eating seafood when they're pregnant so I thought…"
Jack lobbed a chip at him.
"When it's your turn to carry a baby, I'll remember not to order you any fish and chips." Jack abruptly rose to his feet and ignored the rest of his food. "Gwen wanted me to review something."
Ianto stared at Jack's departing back, aghast.
His turn?
Jack was joking, right?
An article in one magazine itemized the symptoms by weeks and offered a list that spanned thirty-six weeks that was by far, the most intimidating. Ianto had stuffed Gwen's bag of literature into the cabinets, behind the dishes because he still couldn't bring himself to take out the ones from the boot of his car. Post-its peppered the slick pages because the note-taking of particulars reduced the article to simple research and that calmed him. The sidebar comment from one mother about her eighteen hours of labor had left his insides in knots.
Ianto leaned against the counter by the kitchen area as he gaped at the photo of a rather sticky looking baby crying red-faced cradled in a pair of anonymous gloved hands. It was mind-boggling how they go from that to the bright, shining faces he sees with his or her mother on the Plass. Good lord, do they always look that…wrinkly? His nieces and nephews when he saw them were smooth-cheeked, pink and smiling nippers. Ianto tried to envision them like…that. Would Jack's baby be the same? The mother beaming at him from the other page, all huge and proud, didn't appear to be distressed or concerned about the list of symptoms printed besides her.
Ianto gulped and closed the publication. He ran a hand through his hair. He wished he'd never clapped eyes upon those blasted magazines. If anything, what he thought he knew has now simply disintegrated into more questions that no one else seem to be asking. Gwen and Tosh appeared more delighted and fascinated by it. Owen…well, Owen was Owen. And Jack…Ianto sighed. Aside from the daily check-ups Owen insisted on, no one would suspect anything different.
Owen said it would be done by Cesarean but would there still be labor then? What about Jack's healing abilities? Could they do a Cesarean? What about feeding the baby? Ianto tugged at his collar. Now there was a question he doubted anyone could answer except Jack and to his ire, Jack didn't appear compelled to reply anytime soon.
Of course, it would help if Ianto asked.
Ianto shot a look towards Jack's office around the antique, brass coffee maker that burbled and smoked. Jack was talking to Tosh by the doorway, one hand tucked in his trouser pocket, his braces off his shoulders as usual, looking perfectly at ease and grinning while Tosh's hands flew in the air with her words. Jack made some sort of gesture, pretended to waddle and Tosh giggled with an ease Ianto envied. It irked him when Tosh patted Jack's stomach and all Jack would do was puff out and grin. She snickered some sort of comment that made Jack snort. He tipped his head back and laughed and unlike the barista, Jack didn't put a hand on his belly or on his back and grimace.
Tentatively, Ianto peeled back a page to the article again. He tried to imagine Jack, large, hands on his stomach and that bubble of giggles Ianto suspected would come out shrill was pressing at his throat again. It'll probably burst the moment Jack does start showing or maybe at the eighteenth hour of labor, although if this was to be done by Caesarian, does that mean no—
"What are you reading?"
Ianto yelped, a little louder than necessary, and spun around to stare at Jack.
Jack winced, stuck a finger in his ear and opened his mouth to complain when his eyes fell onto the counter.
Jack's mouth snapped shut.
"Oh." Jack picked up the magazine, looked at the cover then quickly scanned the article. His blue eyes darted left to right as he skimmed; his fingers tentatively touched the Post-its as if to peel them off. He didn't. Done, Jack leveled a look at Ianto.
Ianto felt a twitch at the corner of his mouth. His fingers drummed nervously on the counter until he heard himself and stopped.
"I uh…had questions," Ianto stammered.
"I know. You may have mentioned that many times before," Jack said low and it seemed like the whole Hub has gone quiet behind them.
"Yes…well…you know me…" Ianto shrugged but it felt like his head was barely on his shoulders. "Need to know everything."
Jack's chuckle sounded like it hurt.
"Coffee?" Ianto offered without thinking, with a shaky smile and a mug. He blanched when Jack reached for it.
"No, no! No caffeine! I forgot!" Hot coffee sloshed, nearly scalding Jack's fingers when Ianto snatched the mug back.
"Tea, maybe—No, no, that has caffeine, too. Oh, damn, damn…" Ianto grinned—at least he hoped it was a grin—and twisted around to stick his head in the fridge. Yes! Ianto grabbed it like a lifeline.
"Smoothie?" Ianto straightened, the cool cup in his fist. He set it down on the counter. "Here you go."
Jack stared at the plastic cup then raised his eyes at Ianto.
"Let me guess?" Jack drawled. "Owen said no coffee."
"He also said you need more folic acid…like fruit and um…fruit." Ianto knew he was babbling, but it was all he could think of as he tracked the rolled up magazine going up and down like a club in Jack's grip. "If you don't like this one, I-I have other flavors."
"Flavors?" Jack repeated. He leaned forward over the counter to peer at their fridge until he caught Ianto staring worriedly at his stomach pressing on the edge. Jack straightened, backed a step and tapped the magazine on an open palm.
"Just how many smoothies did you get?"
Ianto tugged at his collar, straightened his tie then tugged at the neckline again. "F-five."
"Five?" Jack repeated, his voice a tad higher.
"It was six," Ianto offered, his words just short of a whisper. "But Gwen drank one."
Jack pursed his lips. His eyes flicked towards the fridge then to Ianto. A hand rested on his stomach just for a moment and dropped immediately.
A shadow crossed over Jack. "Folic acid, huh?" Jack murmured, more to himself.
"It's…it's good for the baby or-or so I've been told," Ianto stammered.
Jack looked down at the magazine he held. A flinch darted across, but his face smoothed out instantly. He set it back down on the counter and carefully smoothed it out with both hands.
"I think Owen wants me to eat more fruit, not drown in it," Jack said. He winked, but his eyes were dull when Jack grabbed the sweating cup of overly yellow, frothy smoothie and strode back to his office.
That night, Jack complained he was nauseous so all he had was toast and some chicken broth for dinner. His mouth tasted dry and salty when Ianto kissed him.
His hands traced Jack's jaw while Jack slid deep into Ianto's body, without pause because by now, he knew the way and even if he didn't, Ianto couldn't find it in him to deny Jack.
Ianto watched Jack, who watched him as he rocked into Ianto with solid strokes, powerful and single-minded like there was something Jack wanted to say.
"What?" Ianto panted. He threw his head back and groaned as he felt Jack fill him. Ianto curled his hands around Jack's thighs, making a sound rumble deep in his throat and he craned his head back to offer Jack his neck.
Jack's mouth clamped over the pulse beating frantically like a trapped bird and there was a second of concern that Jack might actually bite and mark, but his concern was replaced with a primal thirst of his own to mark and be marked. Baser of desires, Ianto thought absently as he reached for Jack's hip, his hands clawing apart cheeks, a finger searching for that puckered entrance.
There was an undeniable taste of mouth and sweat and life as Jack's hips did an odd jerk and pushed back on Ianto's fingers, rocking with the same purpose Ianto felt pistoning into him before.
"Easy," Ianto murmured as Jack all but fucked himself on Ianto's fingers. Fucked was the only way to describe the almost punishing pace Jack slammed down into Ianto's fingers.
"Jack, hold on, stop, wait!" Ianto pulled free, his hands on the bony ridges of Jack's hips, pushing him back when it looked like Jack's intent was to impale himself on Ianto's erection.
"What? What's wrong?" Jack gasped. His eyes cleared and he looked confused.
"What's wrong? What's wrong? I should be asking you that!" Ianto couldn't stop himself from shouting and the specks of drying blood he saw on the fingertips of his right hand merely made his insides ice over, his voice louder.
"Christ, Jack, what the bloody hell were you thinking? We never let it get to the point of bleeding!"
Jack's eyes widened. "Did I hurt—"
"No, you prat, you made me hurt you!" Ianto pushed up on his elbows. Jack's bewilderment only made the screaming inside worse. "What's wrong? You've never…"
Gray clouded over blue and Jack shifted off Ianto with an easy shrug.
"I got a little…" Jack shrugged again. "It's not like we've never been…rambunctious before." And for a second, Jack looked like Jack with that crooked, wicked grin that always worked like a siren's call.
Ianto flushed because yes, he could still feel the bite of the file cabinets, the archives' concrete walls, the coarse thread of the couch and all the places they had been…rambunctious.
"Yes," Ianto argued reluctantly, "but that was before you became pregnant." He stopped when Jack's smile shifted, never disappearing completely but dimming like a layer was peeled away.
"I haven't changed." Jack said low, his eyes hooded. "You said you were fine about this."
"And I am, I just…" Ianto slumped back on the mound of pillows behind. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the other. "God…" Ianto clenched his right hand into a fist, sealing the fingers away from sight. He levered off the bed. Ianto didn't bother to retrieve a robe or slippers and padded into the bathroom with his stained hand still in a fist. He only opened it when he turned on the faucet.
It wasn't a lot of blood, Ianto reasoned as he scrubbed his hand. He tried to even out his breathing as he rinsed suds off his fingers. There would be more blood from a paper cut. By the time the thin pink streaks swirled down the sink, Ianto was breathing more calmly and his fingers were steady again. Ianto braced himself on either side of his sink and he stared at the mirror. The steam dissolved back into his image.
Ianto closed his eyes and tore away from the mirror. He stepped back into the bedroom.
Jack lay on his back, his eyes on the ceiling. His gaze lowered towards Ianto by the door. He tracked Ianto as he climbed back in and settled down next to Jack, a breath away only, but far enough.
"You still want this?" Jack's question was deceptively casual. He folded his hands over his stomach.
"I do." Ianto didn't hesitate and he could sense Jack relaxing next to him. "I'm trying to…sort things out here. I don't know what we're supposed to be doing right now."
Jack sighed. "Why do we have to do anything?"
"Jack, you're a man and you're pregnant."
Jack snorted. He breathed out slowly and covered his eyes with an arm. "You know," Jack bit out, "in my time, this wasn't such a big issue. This—"
"This is happening in this century! With this century's archaic technology!" Ianto snapped. He sat up and rested on his side to look at Jack. "And you…you act like…I don't know…you don't act pregnant!"
Jack looked sharply at Ianto. "How is a pregnant man supposed to act?"
"I-I don't know! Don't you understand? I. Don't. Know. I have nothing to go on about this! Just…You can't expect us to be so blasé about this like you are, pretending you're not even pregnant!"
"I'm not…" Jack stared. "I'm not pretending anything! Nothing's changed! I'm just…" Jack set his jaw and faced the ceiling.
Ianto covered his eyes with a hand and breathed out harshly. "I…I'm not sure what we need to do here!"
"Why do you have to do anything?" Jack snapped. "We be careful, take a few scans and I have this baby in nine months."
"That's it?" Ianto moved both hands to cover his face. "Jack, it can't possibly…I-I have all these questions I know I should be asking but how to ask them is beyond me!" Ianto's shoulders slumped. "It seems like everyone else is dealing with this all right, except me."
Jack studied Ianto, his expression blank.
"So what do you want to know?"
Ianto punched the duvet between them.
"That's just it. I…I just don't know," Ianto admitted. It seemed like it was the only thing he could say these days. His head dropped to his chest. "I…I don't think I'm ready to ask."
Part 2
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Date: 2009-03-08 07:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 11:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 12:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 02:33 pm (UTC)You just made my weekend!
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Date: 2009-03-08 10:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 10:58 pm (UTC)I get to read fan fic tonight!
I have to cook dinner first, then I get desert!
woo hoo
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Date: 2009-03-08 06:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 10:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 08:51 pm (UTC)-snicker- Salt and Vinegar chips with Marmite? sounds disgusting. Perhaps with Vegemite though...
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Date: 2009-03-08 10:56 pm (UTC)