Title: Mood Killer
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Summary: Jack and Ianto’s romantic morning suffers a fatal blow.
Word Count: 500
Written For: nurseshark’s prompt ‘Author's choice, author's choice, making love with the radio on when a song starts that completely destroys the mood,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
They’d been rushed off their feet for last few weeks; overwork and not enough sleep was starting to put a strain on their relationship. The occasional quick shag or blowjob had barely been enough to take the edge off, and frustration was reaching boiling point when Tosh announced that the Rift was heading into one of its periodic lulls. Jack called a team meeting to give everyone the good news.
“Keep your phones on and with you, but get some rest; according to Tosh’s readings, the Rift should be dormant for the next seventy-two hours or so. Make the most of it.”
There was a mad rush for the door and in less than a minute, the boardroom was empty of everyone but Jack and Ianto.
“What about us?” Ianto asked, half expecting to be told they were still on duty. After all, someone had to keep an eye on things.
“I’ve redirected alerts to my wrist strap. We’re going to head home, get some sleep, then make up for lost time,” Jack said firmly.
“Sounds like a plan.”
If eating a meal sitting down was a treat, then getting to sleep for a full night was bliss. Waking up was even better. Set to an oldies station, the radio was playing softly in the background, Jack had brought in a breakfast tray, but Ianto had decided he was more interested in his lover than the food. The fact that Jack hadn’t bothered to put anything on before fixing breakfast probably helped; a naked Jack was always tempting.
“Food can wait,” Ianto declared, “this won’t.” He grabbed Jack’s hand and guided it to his erection.
“You’re right,” Jack agreed, “that definitely takes priority; it’s been way too long. Rushed blowjobs don’t count.” Leaving the tray on the floor, out of the way, Jack crawled onto the bed, leaning in for a long, slow kiss.
Despite the urgency of their need for one another, they were determined not to rush. They explored each other’s bodies with hands and mouths, touching and tasting, caressing and licking, taking it in turns to lavish attention on parts long neglected.
Everything was progressing smoothly, passion building steadily. Heat radiated from bodies now flushed and glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Nibbling along Ianto’s clavicle, Jack slid one hand under the pillow, finding the lube. Their eyes locked, pupils blown, the slow, romantic ballad on the radio ended and…
The Tennessee Bird Walk came on.
Within seconds, Ianto was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, which might have been partly due to Jack having collapsed on top of him, shaking and making odd spluttering noises.
“Oh God,” Ianto finally managed to choke out, wiping the tears from his eyes. “What a mood killer!”
“The universe hates us!” Jack declared dramatically, still giggling and practically falling off the edge of the bed.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“To turn the bloody radio off! That’s the last time I try to set the mood with music.”