donutsweeper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
donutsweeper) wrote2009-01-06 03:10 pm
donutsweeper) wrote2009-01-06 03:10 pm
Longing Looks
Title: Longing Looks
Pairing/Warning/Rating: Jack/Ianto in a pretty atypical and possibly squicky way, none, rated PG
Word Count: 477
Beta: mad_jaks
Summary: Ianto ages, Jack doesn't. Eventually, that becomes an issue, for at least one of them.
Author's Note: Karaokegal presented me with an evil plotbunny that ran rampant before I chased it down *glares*
35 was not old.
Ianto repeated that to himself several times as he looked in the mirror. Thirty-five really wasn’t all that old. By most standards it wasn’t even middle aged. Of course, for a Torchwood agent, even one who didn’t venture out of the office most of the time, it was practically ancient, but that was neither here nor there. He poked at the fine creases radiating out from his eyes. Laughter lines. Who ever thought he’d live long enough to have laughter lines? It wouldn’t be long before he had more wrinkles than Jack. Ianto cracked open the jar of cream he’d just spent half a week’s pay on,. It was supposed to be amazing stuff, restoring the skin’s luster and erasing wrinkles. So he bought a lot of it, just in case it worked. He figured a few months pay to look a few years younger was an excellent trade. He knew it wasn’t his looks that Jack loved him for, but keeping himself up couldn’t hurt.
45 wasn’t old either.
And it didn’t really matter that the scales lied to him as often as the mirror these days. Ianto was pretty sure that they were colluding with Jack, who insisted that sex was the best kind of exercise out there and that all good evenings should begin with whipped creme and strawberries. Jack, who still went out in the field and chased down weevils. Jack, who had barely aged in the twenty years they’d been together. Jack, who continued to flirt with everyone and everything he came in contact with. Jack, who didn’t know that Ianto used botox to keep the wrinkles at bay and had no clue that, while he was away in London next week, Ianto was scheduled to have a quick outpatient procedure that would take care of that expanding waistline problem of his. Ianto wasn’t going to risk those loving, sidelong looks of Jack’s fading.
55 was old.
It shouldn’t be. Not when the average human male lived to be ninety. But when you’d been with your lover for almost thirty years and he still looked thirty-five and while you were starting to look old enough to be his father? Then it was old. And it felt even older when said lover rarely slept and would go off and do who the hell knew what every night. Ianto poked the saggy skin under his chin. It was probably time to do something about that again. He’d heard good things about that new laser surgery all the celebrities on the telly were raving about. There would be time to make a few calls in the morning, maybe he should schedule another nip/tuck while he was at it too and erase as many years as he could. After all, looking younger, like he used to, was all that mattered, wasn’t it?
Pairing/Warning/Rating: Jack/Ianto in a pretty atypical and possibly squicky way, none, rated PG
Word Count: 477
Beta: mad_jaks
Summary: Ianto ages, Jack doesn't. Eventually, that becomes an issue, for at least one of them.
Author's Note: Karaokegal presented me with an evil plotbunny that ran rampant before I chased it down *glares*
35 was not old.
Ianto repeated that to himself several times as he looked in the mirror. Thirty-five really wasn’t all that old. By most standards it wasn’t even middle aged. Of course, for a Torchwood agent, even one who didn’t venture out of the office most of the time, it was practically ancient, but that was neither here nor there. He poked at the fine creases radiating out from his eyes. Laughter lines. Who ever thought he’d live long enough to have laughter lines? It wouldn’t be long before he had more wrinkles than Jack. Ianto cracked open the jar of cream he’d just spent half a week’s pay on,. It was supposed to be amazing stuff, restoring the skin’s luster and erasing wrinkles. So he bought a lot of it, just in case it worked. He figured a few months pay to look a few years younger was an excellent trade. He knew it wasn’t his looks that Jack loved him for, but keeping himself up couldn’t hurt.
45 wasn’t old either.
And it didn’t really matter that the scales lied to him as often as the mirror these days. Ianto was pretty sure that they were colluding with Jack, who insisted that sex was the best kind of exercise out there and that all good evenings should begin with whipped creme and strawberries. Jack, who still went out in the field and chased down weevils. Jack, who had barely aged in the twenty years they’d been together. Jack, who continued to flirt with everyone and everything he came in contact with. Jack, who didn’t know that Ianto used botox to keep the wrinkles at bay and had no clue that, while he was away in London next week, Ianto was scheduled to have a quick outpatient procedure that would take care of that expanding waistline problem of his. Ianto wasn’t going to risk those loving, sidelong looks of Jack’s fading.
55 was old.
It shouldn’t be. Not when the average human male lived to be ninety. But when you’d been with your lover for almost thirty years and he still looked thirty-five and while you were starting to look old enough to be his father? Then it was old. And it felt even older when said lover rarely slept and would go off and do who the hell knew what every night. Ianto poked the saggy skin under his chin. It was probably time to do something about that again. He’d heard good things about that new laser surgery all the celebrities on the telly were raving about. There would be time to make a few calls in the morning, maybe he should schedule another nip/tuck while he was at it too and erase as many years as he could. After all, looking younger, like he used to, was all that mattered, wasn’t it?