(Open to Jack.)

[youwiththeears]

The chilly sunlight of late autumn lays pale across the patchwork quilt of the bed in Ears' room, and across his long, bare legs. Hair still wet from the shower, he srawls with one arm folded behind his head, turning the blue lump over and over in long fingers. The surface seems almost to iridesce, reflecting soft motes of morning light around

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[capnhotness]

Combating his own excess of tired these days, Jack has been up and having coffee for several hours. Not coffeetea, he can't bring himself to try, but just something like the industrial strength coffee Ianto used to brew for him about a lifetime ago. It's a lot worse than anything Ianto ever made, granted, because Jack just can't seem to coerce flavor from coffee beans like his former lover, but it seems to do the trick for the time being. Whatever is causing the massive energy drain - and has been causing it for nearly a week now - is sated by the three cups of coffee he manages to get down while puttering around the kitchen. He hears the pipes of the Edwardian house creak and, somewhere upstairs, a shower turn on, leaving him to correctly estimate that Ears is awake. The device the Doctor's seventh self cooked up seems to be working

[youwiththeears]

Jack's reputation has preceeded him, or rather, the scent of breakfast has, and the door swings open almost before he's lifted his hand from it. Ears has shadows under his eyes, but his eyes are clear and awake, and he's smiling.

"Jack, perfect timing. I was about to come down and get dressed." He doesn't even keep his clothes up here anymore.

[capnhotness]

Surprised by the abrupt way the door opens, Jack takes a step back and returns the smile. "That's me," he answers the charge of perfect timing, not even attempting to hold back the flirtatious wink to gives. "Oh. I'm treating you to some breakfast in bed, clothing optional. When you weren't downstairs, I decided to check up here."

[youwiththeears]

He tucks the tape-deck-sized alphawave thinger in the crook of his elbow, leads running ridiculously up. "Let's go down to the bedroom, then." His glance back at the bedside table gets cut short by the towel, as he has to grab it before it slithers off his skinny hips.