there's gonna be an accident ;; capnhotness, in_absolutio

[coffee_cult]

Late night at the Hub and unexpected Weevil activity send Ianto Jones to bed alone. He conscientiously - and perhaps with unrealistic hope - leaves Jack's side of the bed empty, and curls up with half the pillows and most of the blankets, and a dog on his feet, to sleep. It's blissful and warm and lasts naught-point-two minutes before Ianto

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[capnhotness]

Right now is not precisely when Jack comes home, but close enough for government work. Finding the door to Ianto's bedroom - across the hall from the master bedroom, chosen for the bed that Jack hasn't slept with anyone else in - door closed and locked, Jack assumes that his foray into overtime, despite a necessity of the job, had not gone over well with his husband. Appropriately, if not unfairly, put into the doghouse, he therefore treks over to his much disused bedroom and leaves the door wide open (maybe in protest of the treatment, maybe in a show of absolute immodesty) while he strips out of dirty, torn clothes that he leaves in a trail from the bedroom door to the adjoining bathroom

[in_absolutio]

While the captain may have been disappointed in the lack of actually being able to get into the bedroom the night before, he's running incorrectly on several counts. He might have been locked out, yes, but not for any of the reasons he might think; and there is not an absence of coffee downstairs ... but not because Ianto made him any. (Though, if Jack had gone and tried the handle, he would've found it unlocked this morning

[capnhotness]

Downstairs, Jack stops short of entering the kitchen at the threshold and finds himself staring at the back of Ianto's dressing gown, as worn by an utter stranger. There's a sick, familiar-but-foreign twist in his gut, aching all the way up to lodge painfully in his chest, as he watches the man prowl about his kitchen. Clearly, since he's all about jumping to several sorts of conclusions this morning, this man is the reason why Ianto's bedroom door had been locked last night and, though he's associating the odd twist of his insides to the mere idea of it, Jack can't say he's entirely surprised. Why not? Turn about is fair play, as he's said all along, and maybe it was only a matter of time until Ianto decided that he was done playing the role of the noble sacrifice.

"Morning," Jack greets evenly, lingering in the doorway still, perhaps without the intent of actually entering the kitchen. His tone, somehow, remains unaffected by the dread and fear and hurt burrowing into his heart to settle in and remain.

[in_absolutio]

Of course, the man - the Doctor - should have expected Jack to come home. He knew when he turned up here that this was not just Mr. Jones's house, but Jack's as well. The house that the two humans live in together. The Doctor is perfectly fine with that - rather thrilled by it, actually, being back in this pocket of time where Jack is alive and happy - but actually encountering the man complicates things a bit. He's been recklessly careful, dancing around the potential and the reality of meeting Jack in this timeline, a Jack who doesn't know him - at least not in this regeneration - yet.

Turning around sets a pang to the Doctor's hearts, as he regards familiar eyes and posture and mannerisms that are just slightly enough off to actually take reconciling with the man he most recently knew. He pastes on a smile two seconds after letting it falter, making the situation seem awkward - a bad thing to do, considering what Jack is thinking, unbeknownst to him - and gestures with his plate. "Morning. Toast?"