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Fic: "Feature Film Starring"
Title:Feature Film Starring
Characters/Pairing: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness
Type/Setting: Gen with slash references
Rating: R
Length: 770
Summary: It had sounded like 'please'
Notes: experimenting,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
horizonssing summer challenge, day four prompt, pre-Cyberwoman
(SITTIN' ON) THE DOCK OF THE BAY
- written by Otis Redding and Steve Cropper
[...]
I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the 'Frisco bay
'Cause I've had nothing to live for
And look like nothin's gonna come my way
[...]
There were France, Africa, America past this place, but mostly there was water. As Ianto turned in shuffling half-steps and attempted to peer past the horizon there was mostly silence, too, except for the group of teenagers closing in. A glass bottle rolled off the steps behind him and burst. Teenagers laughed. He could stand by the Bay or walk up to the Castle. Kicked glass slid past him and into the waves. He turned to look over his shoulder as one of the kids ran into him, a shove, a prod, and he stumbled. They looked at him and he looked at them, like they had drugs and like he was a lunatic, and like both were true and they knew it.
They pointed at him and he just took it, with his chapped lips and his dry mouth, like they had every right and like he was someone different.
They were sixteen and he wasn't much older, or any better. He kicked at the remainder of the bottle they'd left for someone to clean. He bent down, laughed as he cut himself on the glass, like it was funny and like he cared. He tossed the shard into the sea, feeling the teenager with an urge for death and gloom and Dylan Thomas minus the drugs.
"Thought I'd find you out here."
Glass crunched under his feet as he turned, half-stumbled and caught himself with a hand on the step, glass sinking under the skin (and into his bloodstream and into his heart, so much for the symbolism).
"I was walking up to the Castle." The explanation to end it all. He tugged at his tie and knew he ruined every effect and wouldn't clean the stains off his knees or his crotch or the knowledge off his mind or Harkness's.
"Ah." Jack regarded him with eyebrows raised and hands safely stowed. "Really." He laughed, like it was funny.
"Yes." Ianto joined into the laughter and then he was the only one laughing. He stopped and shrugged again.
"That bad?" Harkness smirked, but underneath the concern for the lamb. After the act.
It grated like the fuck on the stairs that had sent the metal railing jarring along his hipbone, like the floors under his knees and his mouth open wide, like that last damned word on his lips (It had sounded like 'please', oh really). Like Lisa's eyes when he'd told her and her fucking touch on his fucking skin like an apology to him when it was an apology he was giving her.
He shook his head, let out a laugh and, barely contained like the splinters of glass under his skin, he set one foot in front of the other. "I was just- walking up there." He nodded along the Plass and past it like he meant it, toward the Castle or anywhere, really. He'd screamed like he'd meant it, too, and Lisa had listened through pipes and brick walls.
I had been a look, it had been a touch, it had been like glass on stone, leaving sand in its wake, steadily working away at defences he thought would have been higher. They had crumbled with the kiss and the press of knuckles to his face, and fallen when the flesh under his hands had been skin and not metal.
"Not bad." He forced out, shaking his head, for an answer. "I'm not fifteen." It hung in the air like it didn't quite know what it wanted to mean and Ianto shook his head again, forgetting every clarification or thought past the function of lips and legs. "I was walking up there."
It had sounded like 'please'. It echoed through the Plass now.
He'd have to be back in a few hours, unlock the room and tell her 'sorry'. Like the night before. And the night before that. And her fingers would be so fucking alive on his skin like she existed somewhere in it. And at night, he'd go to his knees for Harkness's cock and he'd say 'please' before he'd come, like he meant it. And he would.
It was like a film made in America. He didn't like those.
"I was walking up there." Ianto said it again, like a promise, like a warning and turned to walk towards the Castle.
Harkness didn't follow. Maybe not an American film after all.
Characters/Pairing: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness
Type/Setting: Gen with slash references
Rating: R
Length: 770
Summary: It had sounded like 'please'
Notes: experimenting,
horizonssing summer challenge, day four prompt, pre-Cyberwoman- written by Otis Redding and Steve Cropper
[...]
I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the 'Frisco bay
'Cause I've had nothing to live for
And look like nothin's gonna come my way
[...]
There were France, Africa, America past this place, but mostly there was water. As Ianto turned in shuffling half-steps and attempted to peer past the horizon there was mostly silence, too, except for the group of teenagers closing in. A glass bottle rolled off the steps behind him and burst. Teenagers laughed. He could stand by the Bay or walk up to the Castle. Kicked glass slid past him and into the waves. He turned to look over his shoulder as one of the kids ran into him, a shove, a prod, and he stumbled. They looked at him and he looked at them, like they had drugs and like he was a lunatic, and like both were true and they knew it.
They pointed at him and he just took it, with his chapped lips and his dry mouth, like they had every right and like he was someone different.
They were sixteen and he wasn't much older, or any better. He kicked at the remainder of the bottle they'd left for someone to clean. He bent down, laughed as he cut himself on the glass, like it was funny and like he cared. He tossed the shard into the sea, feeling the teenager with an urge for death and gloom and Dylan Thomas minus the drugs.
"Thought I'd find you out here."
Glass crunched under his feet as he turned, half-stumbled and caught himself with a hand on the step, glass sinking under the skin (and into his bloodstream and into his heart, so much for the symbolism).
"I was walking up to the Castle." The explanation to end it all. He tugged at his tie and knew he ruined every effect and wouldn't clean the stains off his knees or his crotch or the knowledge off his mind or Harkness's.
"Ah." Jack regarded him with eyebrows raised and hands safely stowed. "Really." He laughed, like it was funny.
"Yes." Ianto joined into the laughter and then he was the only one laughing. He stopped and shrugged again.
"That bad?" Harkness smirked, but underneath the concern for the lamb. After the act.
It grated like the fuck on the stairs that had sent the metal railing jarring along his hipbone, like the floors under his knees and his mouth open wide, like that last damned word on his lips (It had sounded like 'please', oh really). Like Lisa's eyes when he'd told her and her fucking touch on his fucking skin like an apology to him when it was an apology he was giving her.
He shook his head, let out a laugh and, barely contained like the splinters of glass under his skin, he set one foot in front of the other. "I was just- walking up there." He nodded along the Plass and past it like he meant it, toward the Castle or anywhere, really. He'd screamed like he'd meant it, too, and Lisa had listened through pipes and brick walls.
I had been a look, it had been a touch, it had been like glass on stone, leaving sand in its wake, steadily working away at defences he thought would have been higher. They had crumbled with the kiss and the press of knuckles to his face, and fallen when the flesh under his hands had been skin and not metal.
"Not bad." He forced out, shaking his head, for an answer. "I'm not fifteen." It hung in the air like it didn't quite know what it wanted to mean and Ianto shook his head again, forgetting every clarification or thought past the function of lips and legs. "I was walking up there."
It had sounded like 'please'. It echoed through the Plass now.
He'd have to be back in a few hours, unlock the room and tell her 'sorry'. Like the night before. And the night before that. And her fingers would be so fucking alive on his skin like she existed somewhere in it. And at night, he'd go to his knees for Harkness's cock and he'd say 'please' before he'd come, like he meant it. And he would.
It was like a film made in America. He didn't like those.
"I was walking up there." Ianto said it again, like a promise, like a warning and turned to walk towards the Castle.
Harkness didn't follow. Maybe not an American film after all.