Quick Fic

Jul 30, 2008 01:07

Title: Like Moths to a Flame
Challenge: Obsession
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Ianto Jack/Doctor
Warnings: over-complicated sentence structure.  I’m feeling wordy, sorry.
Summary: He will always come between them.


It was quite a while before Jack realized he was addicted, although other adjectives came to mind as well: Intoxicated, fixated, infatuated, possessed.

When the sheer magnitude of his obsession finally impressed itself on Jack’s consciousness, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t recognized the signs.  Had it not been for Ianto, he would probably have continued his pathetic adulation in ignorance for centuries.  But, thankfully, Ianto was observant (although in this case, he didn’t particularly need to be) and rather healthfully obsessed with Jack, and so in due course, the addiction was addressed.

Reflecting on the incident later, Jack realized that he could have handled it better.  In fact, he could have handled it, period.  A simple argument that should have been no more than a blip on the radar escalated to the point where neither lover was willing to continue the intimate activities in which he had previously been engaged.  Ianto stormed out of Jack’s bed screaming, “If you can’t focus on me long enough to shove your cock up my arse, I don’t want you. Go have sex with it!”

As the door slammed and Jack heard his own voice echo, “He has a gender you worthless Welsh tea-totaler!” he abruptly realized that something was very, very wrong.

Old habits, however, die hard, as the saying goes, and unfortunately for Jack, merely realizing he was completely, hopelessly obsessed with him did absolutely nothing to remedy the problem.  His relationship with Ianto splintered and cracked.  It didn’t shatter outright; the break was slow and agonizing.  Their fragile lust-love limped along as Jack found himself spending more and more time with him.  When Jack was alone with Ianto, his thoughts constantly strayed to his wellbeing, and (even more sinful),  Jack’s fantasies focused only on his form when he and Ianto were having sex.  Ianto was just as guilty, clinging to Jack like a barnacle to the underside of a boat long after he should have slammed the door and never come back.  But Ianto couldn’t give Jack up, and Jack couldn’t give him up, and so they found themselves caught in an angry, destructive cycle.  At least, Jack thought as he lay in bed and half-heartedly snuggled with Ianto, our angry sex is good.   Of course, the next thought was, I wonder what angry sex with him would be like…  Ianto, with the instinct of a spurned lover, groaned and slapped the nearest portion of Jack’s skin he could reach (his thigh.  It felt rather nice actually.)

It was Ianto who mustered the good grace to back out first.  Even as he watched Ianto fade into the distance, Jack admired his one-time lover’s courage.  Jack was addicted to him, it was true, but he was equally addicted to sex and his willpower had proved unequal to the task.  Jack quickly came to the painful conclusion that he had treated Ianto badly.  In fact, he had treated him horribly, atrociously, unspeakably, even disgustingly. Jack thought of Ianto wistfully sometimes when he was alone at night: Good, dependable Ianto, gifted where it mattered- at his job, in bed, in the kitchen, in a crisis.  Finding a fuck buddy like him wasn’t easy.  Emotions were nasty, treacherous things.  They ruined everything.

And so, in the dark semi-silence of the hub, Jack clung to his one true obsession, watching with wonder as the Doctor’s hand gurgled and glowed with a faint, eerie and disturbingly beautiful blue light, and prayed it was worth it.

a/n: Do you like the larger font? Or is it annoying?  Maybe I should just switch to a layout that's easier to read...

jack/ianto, jack/doctor (10), doctor who

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