Title: An Angel For Jack 2/?
Rating: Teen probably for now, but that may change later
Pairing(s): just Jack/Ianto for now
Summary: Jack has never really been alone, even if he hasn't known it himself.
Notes: Title and basic concept shamelessly borrowed from Jude Deveraux.This is my first ever attempt at Jack/Ianto or even slash fanfiction, so please be gentle. No beta I'm afraid, but I hope you'll give it a go anyway.
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or An Angel For Emily either, everything belongs to the BBC and Jude Deveraux respectively.
Previous part: Prologue
Jack was having the mother of all bad days. It wasn’t as if life hadn’t already made each day a trial to get through with the whole immortal thing hanging over his head every day of his long, unending existence. No, to top it all off fate, fickle dame that she was, had decided to bombard them with a Weevil infestation so severe that he was having to take off after the little sewer dwellers, on his own, in the small hours of the morning. So here he was, driving the SUV in what the little voice in the back of his mind (as out of place as it was) would call ‘a most erratic fashion,’ whilst attempting to avoid hitting obstacles of the human variety.
Everything else was fair game as far as he was concerned.
Of course trying to avoid hitting pedestrians and actually succeeding weren’t necessarily one and the same.
As the vehicle careened along the roads at a speed that could only be described as over the limit, a flash of white in the near distance caught Jack’s eyes. He slammed on the brakes in a panic, but not before the sound of a dull thump reached his ears.
‘Shit!’ It really wasn’t his day, damn it! I mean was it really wasn’t too much to ask for the roads to be empty at three am?
Heart pounding in his throat, Jack cautiously made his way out of the SUV. It would be just his luck, killing a total innocent just because they had the misfortune of being in the road whilst Jack was on them. Another person honoured with the privilege of being inadvertently (which made it so much worse) killed by Jack Harkness. A Captain at that. Impressive. It seemed this day was destined to get worse before it got better.
Jack eyebrows rose as he took in the man sprawled on the tarmac before him, seemingly scathe free. The very naked man sprawled on the tarmac blinking up at him from eyes the colour of a cloudless sky, if Wales were to ever be blessed with good weather. And without even realising it himself he was hooked. Maybe it was time to let Captain Jack Senior Senior TM out to play. Things really might be looking up.
In more ways than one.
But never let it be said that Jack was a foolish fellow. He may have been called a great many things in his time but that definitely wasn’t one of them. Even as his gaze lingered on those tempting lips it occurred to him to err on the side of caution. It wasn’t everyday a naked man fell from the heavens. Well, not in the 21st century at least. As easy as Jack found him on the eyes, now was not the time to act on his attraction.
He took a step closer, his hand on the butt of his Webley just in case, the epitome of hard ass, card carrying, dinosaur net in the back seat (huh? Where had that come from?) member of Torchwood. A real tough cookie.
Still, despite his better instincts he could feel his mouth twisting into a smirk that heralded the arrival of ‘Captain Jack Harkness and who might you be?’ and it felt good after all that had happened over the last few weeks. What with Suzie going berserk and then training the new girl, he really hadn’t had much to smile about lately, much less get horny.
It was definitely the nakedness, he decided. How the hell was he supposed to ignore a man in his birthday suit? Those eyes. That alabaster skin. And that mouth. Woah. Perfect and pursed just like that, as if waiting for a kiss. Absolutely mind-blowingly perfect.
Already leaning inappropriately close to this beautiful man, Jack found himself leaning even closer. A waft of warm air across his face drew him in further until their lips were only a scant few inches away from each other. And those lips were still pursed, still seeking his own and Jack was sure going to give it to him. The first contact as their lips brushed was exquisite, as it always was the first time. That unique essence of someone new and unknown. The mystery.
His eyes shot up, his eyebrows flew up in an involuntary dance of their own. Things had just become even more mysterious.
A/N: If you catch any errors let me know! I am so lazy - I never actually proof read.