Title: Odd Behaviour
Characters: Ianto, Jack
Summary: This is odd behaviour even for Jack; Ianto really needs to do something about it. Or possibly with it…
Word Count: 500
Written For: My own prompt ‘Torchwood, Jack, (501): Pants are for mortals,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Jack appears to be drunk, which is odd. Because of his rapid regeneration and healing abilities, actually drinking enough alcohol to get properly drunk, and at a pace that outstrips his body’s ability to metabolise it, is practically impossible. The best he can usually manage is to get momentarily tipsy.
He’s also stark naked, but that’s less unusual, although the fact that he’s stripped off in the middle of the Plas is perhaps cause for concern. Jack is an exhibitionist, true, and he does enjoy shocking people just to see their reactions, but he generally behaves in a more or less socially acceptable manner. He does when he’s in public, anyway.
Thankfully, it’s four in the morning and nobody else is around, so the chances of him getting arrested for public indecency and disturbing the peace before Ianto can drag him inside are relatively low.
“Jack? What are you doing?” Ianto approaches the naked, prancing man with a certain degree of caution.
Torchwood’s leader whirls towards him, a manic grin on his face. “I’m dancing for the man in the moon!” He bellows enthusiastically, doing a pretty neat pirouette. Pausing for a moment, he lowers his voice fractionally, and adds in what is probably meant to be a conspiratorial whisper but is actually loud enough to be heard from the other side of the Plas, “It’s a fertility dance.”
“Of course it is.” Ianto’s starting to suspect alien influence of some sort; there’s no moon visible tonight for a start. “Isn’t it about time you put your pants back on?” He offers said garment to Jack in the vain hope of getting him to cover certain parts that he’d rather were kept for his eyes only. It doesn’t work.
Pulling a face, Jack declares, “I’m immortal; pants are for mortals,” and frolics away again, letting it all hang out.
In private, Ianto admits to himself, Jack would be an appealing sight like this, in all his uninhibited, naked glory. Truth to tell, even under these circumstances he can’t quite control his automatic physical response to what he’s seeing; his trousers are starting to feel suspiciously snug. He needs to get on top of the situation though, and that’s probably a poor choice of words because it conjures up all sorts of delicious images.
Skipping and shimmying, Jack bounds back across the Plas towards Ianto, wiggling his arse temptingly. There’s only so much Ianto can take, and he’s approaching the limits of his endurance. As Jack approaches, Ianto smiles seductively at his lover and slowly removes his tie, then button by button, unfastens his shirt. Jack is watching avidly so Ianto backs away, leading the naked man across the open space and towards one particular paving stone by the water tower.
Coaxing Jack onto the invisible lift is almost too easy, but at least now they’re hidden from view. Ianto decides he can figure out what caused Jack’s odd behaviour later; right now he intends to make the most of it.