Boiler Room
Title: Boiler Room
Pairing: Jack/Ianto - All team featured
Rating/Warning: PG - MM inference
Summary: Things are getting hot in the Hub. Fluff and nonsense
Author's Notes: This was the first Torchwood fic I wrote. Hopefully I have continued to improve since then...
Disclaimer: Torchwood owned by the BBC, not me.
The Hub was hot. Impossibly hot. The Hub did cold very well, but never hot like this.
Tosh was frantically searching the rift monitor and weather sensors looking for an alien reason for the increasing temperature. Gwen offered to go and get some ice so Ianto could make them all iced coffee. Owen suggested that they all take off their clothes to cool down. Jack was about to agree with Owen when Ianto looked up from one of the monitors.
“It’s the boiler. In the boiler room? It’s broken. I’ll go and fix it. And you,” he pointed at Jack and Owen, face stern, “you keep your clothes on.”
Jack looked disappointed but let Ianto leave. If anyone could fix it, it was him. He was so very good with his hands.
After half an hour the temperature inside the hub was still climbing. Jack looked at the rift monitor and it was blessedly silent.
“You guys go home. Go to the pub. Whatever. I’ll stay here and help Ianto. If anything happens I’ll call you.”
Tosh, Owen and Gwen tried not to look too grateful as they fled the oppressive heat of the Hub.
Jack headed towards the lower levels in search of Ianto. Things were obviously not going as well as the younger man had hoped.
The boiler room was even hotter than the rest of the Hub. Jack walked in. Ianto stood in front of him, his hands on his hips, staring dejectedly at temperature gauge on the boiler which was refusing to go down. Ianto turned briefly to look at Jack.
“I have fixed the problem, but the temperature isn’t coming down yet. I don’t know why. It should be falling by now.”
Jack studied Ianto. He was looking uncharacteristically, and quite deliciously, dishevelled. He had shed his jacket and waistcoat. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and not only was his tie off, but Ianto had actually undone the top three buttons of his shirt.
Ianto’s hair was damp at the hairline and clung to his face and neck. When Ianto had turned to face him Jack had seen his flushed face and a trickle of sweat running down Ianto’s throat, coming to rest in the hollow between his collar bones.
Jack cleared his throat. “Don’t sweat the petty things,” he said grinning devilishly “but do pet the sweaty things.”
Ianto let out a surprised squeak as Jack launched himself at him.
Things were about to get even hotter in the Hub.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto - All team featured
Rating/Warning: PG - MM inference
Summary: Things are getting hot in the Hub. Fluff and nonsense
Author's Notes: This was the first Torchwood fic I wrote. Hopefully I have continued to improve since then...
Disclaimer: Torchwood owned by the BBC, not me.
The Hub was hot. Impossibly hot. The Hub did cold very well, but never hot like this.
Tosh was frantically searching the rift monitor and weather sensors looking for an alien reason for the increasing temperature. Gwen offered to go and get some ice so Ianto could make them all iced coffee. Owen suggested that they all take off their clothes to cool down. Jack was about to agree with Owen when Ianto looked up from one of the monitors.
“It’s the boiler. In the boiler room? It’s broken. I’ll go and fix it. And you,” he pointed at Jack and Owen, face stern, “you keep your clothes on.”
Jack looked disappointed but let Ianto leave. If anyone could fix it, it was him. He was so very good with his hands.
After half an hour the temperature inside the hub was still climbing. Jack looked at the rift monitor and it was blessedly silent.
“You guys go home. Go to the pub. Whatever. I’ll stay here and help Ianto. If anything happens I’ll call you.”
Tosh, Owen and Gwen tried not to look too grateful as they fled the oppressive heat of the Hub.
Jack headed towards the lower levels in search of Ianto. Things were obviously not going as well as the younger man had hoped.
The boiler room was even hotter than the rest of the Hub. Jack walked in. Ianto stood in front of him, his hands on his hips, staring dejectedly at temperature gauge on the boiler which was refusing to go down. Ianto turned briefly to look at Jack.
“I have fixed the problem, but the temperature isn’t coming down yet. I don’t know why. It should be falling by now.”
Jack studied Ianto. He was looking uncharacteristically, and quite deliciously, dishevelled. He had shed his jacket and waistcoat. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and not only was his tie off, but Ianto had actually undone the top three buttons of his shirt.
Ianto’s hair was damp at the hairline and clung to his face and neck. When Ianto had turned to face him Jack had seen his flushed face and a trickle of sweat running down Ianto’s throat, coming to rest in the hollow between his collar bones.
Jack cleared his throat. “Don’t sweat the petty things,” he said grinning devilishly “but do pet the sweaty things.”
Ianto let out a surprised squeak as Jack launched himself at him.
Things were about to get even hotter in the Hub.