Ikaros Rising
Oct. 28th, 2010 06:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sariagrayTitle: Ikaros Rising
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sariagray
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 593
Spoilers: Post KKBB, but knowledge of COE makes it more...pertinent, I s'pose.
Warnings: Fluffy...at least, fluffy for me. Yeah, fluffy.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No monetary compensation is gained. This is purely for entertainment purposes (mainly, the entertainment of the author).
Beta: Thanks tothebuttonontop for looking it over last minute. And keeping me on track. And making sure I "shudder" rather than "shutter." :) Any mistakes in here are, of course, mine. MINE, I tell you.
Author's Note: I'd like to thank whoever wrote something that made me think of Ikaros. I don't remember who it was or what I read, but if you are that person, thank you! I hope you all enjoy. Criticisms, feedback, etc. is much appreciated, adored, and whatnot.
Puffs of air crystallized as he breathed, forming clouds that circled his head in a saintly white halo. He watched as the steel grey water ebbed and flowed within the bay, the brisk wind whipping it along like a lazing beast of burden. This had become Ianto’s rite while Jack was gone, standing sentry to the bustling boats and shrieking gulls. Since Jack had returned, his watch had become less frequent, though still cherished.
His cheeks were flushed red, his nose raw with cold. Dark wool was wrapped tightly around him and his stiff fingers were warmed by thick gloves and a mug of coffee that was once scalding, now threatening lukewarm. His black form stood out against the overcast sky and the churning water like a phantom.
A slight misty fog had been rising a few feet off of the water, as though it were breathing, too. It rolled forward to cast its eerie pallor over the Plass, gradually engulfing him in its wet chill. He let it ease over him, the frigid shock bolstering him awake. He took a sip of the cooling coffee and closed his watering eyes against the bitter sting of the wind. The liquid felt smooth in his mouth, though drinking it tepid caused him to shudder.
It was a testament to his unshakable nature that he didn't jump when he felt the press of a body against his back. Instead, he leaned back into the half-embrace as hands settled firmly above his hips. The warmth made him feel as though the chill had been leeched from his bones. His cold-tense muscles softened as he cloaked himself in Jack's heat. The light breath on the back of his neck sent shivers through his body, though these were hot, electric tingles rather than the icy tendrils he had been experiencing.
For a few moments the two men stood in silence, watching a lone boat puttering tenaciously across the bay. They existed in that perfect realm, partway between alone and together. After a while, there was an insistent tug on his hips and Ianto complied with Jack's hands as they guided him to turn around.
If Ianto's form was distinct for the stark contrast of black-on-grey, Jack was highlighted tenfold. He was golden, a pulsating glow of heat and power and life. When he smiled affectionately, Ianto had to beat back the instinct to shut his eyes against the light, so accustomed had they become to the surrounding dull monochrome.
"It's cold out," Jack observed, a note of protective reprimand lingering in his voice.
"Yep."
"Aren't you cold?"
Ianto nodded slightly and blinked once more against the dry, wintry air. Somewhere in the rapid open-shut of his eyes, Jack leaned closer. Ianto was drawn inescapably into his orbit, felt it pulling him in closer and closer still.
Their lips met in a quiet, languid way and Ianto felt a fervent elation akin to the release of gravity. Something soared within him, climbing higher and higher until it seemed that he could reach no greater altitude. Carelessly, it strained for loftier heights, pushing against its holds, trying to break free from whatever kept it back.
As his body thawed thoroughly from warm to the point of overheating, a small corner of his passion-addled brain reminded him to limit his flight and return to safer ground. Refusing to relent to such restraint, the rest of his consciousness rebelled. This, a sweet, assured voice whispered. This is your right. So instead he prayed that he was made of sterner stuff than wax and feathers.
End
Author:
sariagray Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 593
Spoilers: Post KKBB, but knowledge of COE makes it more...pertinent, I s'pose.
Warnings: Fluffy...at least, fluffy for me. Yeah, fluffy.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No monetary compensation is gained. This is purely for entertainment purposes (mainly, the entertainment of the author).
Beta: Thanks to
thebuttonontop for looking it over last minute. And keeping me on track. And making sure I "shudder" rather than "shutter." :) Any mistakes in here are, of course, mine. MINE, I tell you.Author's Note: I'd like to thank whoever wrote something that made me think of Ikaros. I don't remember who it was or what I read, but if you are that person, thank you! I hope you all enjoy. Criticisms, feedback, etc. is much appreciated, adored, and whatnot.
Ikaros Rising
Puffs of air crystallized as he breathed, forming clouds that circled his head in a saintly white halo. He watched as the steel grey water ebbed and flowed within the bay, the brisk wind whipping it along like a lazing beast of burden. This had become Ianto’s rite while Jack was gone, standing sentry to the bustling boats and shrieking gulls. Since Jack had returned, his watch had become less frequent, though still cherished.
His cheeks were flushed red, his nose raw with cold. Dark wool was wrapped tightly around him and his stiff fingers were warmed by thick gloves and a mug of coffee that was once scalding, now threatening lukewarm. His black form stood out against the overcast sky and the churning water like a phantom.
A slight misty fog had been rising a few feet off of the water, as though it were breathing, too. It rolled forward to cast its eerie pallor over the Plass, gradually engulfing him in its wet chill. He let it ease over him, the frigid shock bolstering him awake. He took a sip of the cooling coffee and closed his watering eyes against the bitter sting of the wind. The liquid felt smooth in his mouth, though drinking it tepid caused him to shudder.
It was a testament to his unshakable nature that he didn't jump when he felt the press of a body against his back. Instead, he leaned back into the half-embrace as hands settled firmly above his hips. The warmth made him feel as though the chill had been leeched from his bones. His cold-tense muscles softened as he cloaked himself in Jack's heat. The light breath on the back of his neck sent shivers through his body, though these were hot, electric tingles rather than the icy tendrils he had been experiencing.
For a few moments the two men stood in silence, watching a lone boat puttering tenaciously across the bay. They existed in that perfect realm, partway between alone and together. After a while, there was an insistent tug on his hips and Ianto complied with Jack's hands as they guided him to turn around.
If Ianto's form was distinct for the stark contrast of black-on-grey, Jack was highlighted tenfold. He was golden, a pulsating glow of heat and power and life. When he smiled affectionately, Ianto had to beat back the instinct to shut his eyes against the light, so accustomed had they become to the surrounding dull monochrome.
"It's cold out," Jack observed, a note of protective reprimand lingering in his voice.
"Yep."
"Aren't you cold?"
Ianto nodded slightly and blinked once more against the dry, wintry air. Somewhere in the rapid open-shut of his eyes, Jack leaned closer. Ianto was drawn inescapably into his orbit, felt it pulling him in closer and closer still.
Their lips met in a quiet, languid way and Ianto felt a fervent elation akin to the release of gravity. Something soared within him, climbing higher and higher until it seemed that he could reach no greater altitude. Carelessly, it strained for loftier heights, pushing against its holds, trying to break free from whatever kept it back.
As his body thawed thoroughly from warm to the point of overheating, a small corner of his passion-addled brain reminded him to limit his flight and return to safer ground. Refusing to relent to such restraint, the rest of his consciousness rebelled. This, a sweet, assured voice whispered. This is your right. So instead he prayed that he was made of sterner stuff than wax and feathers.
End
