Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Summary: Jack has taken to knitting like a duck to water, but Ianto thinks he might be overdoing it a bit.
Word Count: 587
Written For: m_findlow’s prompt ‘Any, any, “Winter will be over soon. You can stop knitting”,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
The man in question didn’t bother to look up from what he was doing, just offered up a distracted, “Hm?” in response.
Ianto shook his head in fond exasperation. “You can stop knitting now, you know.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Winter will be over soon and I think we’ve already got more than enough woollies to last us through the next ice age.”
“You can never have enough woollies,” Jack replied firmly, turning his knitting and starting on a reverse row.
“We’re fast running out of room for what you’ve already made, never mind adding more.” Then because he absolutely had to know, “What’re you working on now?”
“A cosy muff for Tosh. It’ll match the hat, scarf, and mittens I made for her. There was yarn left over, and it seemed a shame to let it go to waste, so I thought why not? Do you think she’ll like it?”
“I’m sure she will, she just won’t have a chance to use it until next winter.”
“That’s okay, because when the weather turns cold again she’ll already have it. It’s important to be prepared; these things take time, it’s no use waiting to make cold weather gear until you need it.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“You like all the things I’ve made for you, don’t you?” Jack asked, a trace of anxiety in his voice.
“Or course I do, Cariad,” Ianto assured him. “They’re wonderful and very cosy.” He wasn’t lying. Every pair of socks and gloves, every scarf and woolly hat, every sweater, and the enormous blanket on his bed had been knitted with love in colours and styles that suited him perfectly. It was just that he was getting to a point where he could barely close his wardrobe and he was seriously considering buying another one just to house all the woollies Jack had knitted for him.
“That’s good. I know exactly what I’m going to make for you next.”
“You do?” Ianto wasn’t entirely sure whether he should be delighted or terrified at the prospect of yet another lovingly crafted hand-knit.
“A tea cosy!” Jack announced, turning his knitting again for the next row. “I noticed you don’t have a really nice one and I found a pattern online that you’re going to love! I’m not going to tell you what it is though. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“I’ll look forward to being surprised then.” At least Jack wasn’t planning something else for him to wear. “Are you going to sit there knitting all night?”
Jack finally looked up. “Huh?”
“You do know what time it is, don’t you?”
“Well, not precisely. About nine isn’t it?”
“It’s after midnight.”
Jack frowned at that. “Are you sure?”
“That just proves the old adage; time flies when you’re having fun.”
“There are other ways of having fun than knitting,” Ianto reminded him. “And there’s a nice big woolly blanket on my bed for us to snuggle under.”
That got Jack’s attention. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Finishing his row, Jack set his knitting aside, finally noticing that Ianto was barefoot and in his bathrobe. “Aren’t your feet cold?”
“A bit, but I’m sure you can warm them up for me, and I don’t mean with woolly socks.” With a wink, Ianto headed for the stairs with Jack hard on his heels. As much as Jack enjoyed knitting, Ianto was still his first love, and always would be, and he’d keep him warm any way he could.