Title: At first
Author: godsdaisiechain
Fandom: Torchwood
Type: Fic
Characters/Pairing: Ianto and Jack, Ianto and Lisa
Challenges: Flavor, Sweet and Sour, Spicy
Word Count: ~350
Rating: PG
Summary: Ianto and Jack consider the meaning of pork.


*-*-*-*
A date.

Ianto nearly wriggled; he felt tingly all over in a way that Lisa had never made him feel.  Even though he didn’t like men that way.  It was Jack. Not "men." Just Jack.

At first, Ianto told himself, he just wanted the job, to prove himself, because he had to hide his now only semi-human semi-cyborg—and if he knew it, all-dangerous—girlfriend before she tried to exterminate (or, as she put it, "upgrade") the human population.

Jack was just a man in a coat standing in his way.  He hadn’t meant to say anything, but Jack had been so infuriatingly smug, so determined to keep him out of Torchwood.  Even thogh Ianto was from Torchwood One.  The Real Torchwood, not some flimsy backwater.

“Like the coat,” Ianto had said, nearly feeling the flavor of boiled wool over his tongue.  It took even him by surprise.

Then it had become something else, a secret between them, even though Ianto hadn’t seen Jack’s fond smiles. It was almost as if he had felt them.

Just as he had felt that Jack did, indeed, love him.  Even though he never said so.  Not even in that final moment.

*-*-*-*

Sweet and sour or spicy?  Jack found himself wondering what kind of Chinese takeaway to order.  He and Ianto had had a very successful first date, even though there had not been any kissing. Or anything more.  Ianto was not the sort for public displays of affection with a man. Not yet, at least.

Jack wanted to stay in for some private displays of affection.  Or sex.  He wasn’t quite sure which, precisely, because he tended to grow overly attached when he shouldn’t.

Inspiration struck. “Sweet and sour pork,” he ordered, “Spicy pork.  And pork egg rolls," he paused because the woman seemed confused by the monolithic (or in fact mono-fleshic) ordering. "And wonton soup. With pork. Yes. All pork. Pork, pork, pork and pork.”

Ianto came in just as Jack made up his mind. “I didn’t realize you liked pork so much.”

“I prefer something more sensual at first,” Jack replied evenly, thinking back to a night many decades before, whispering in the ear of a red-eyed Italian.  Ianto flushed, suddenly understanding what he had said, and Jack felt his heart soften.  “Rather more sensual.”

He let his fingers brush Ianto’s hand.  “Ah,” Ianto gasped.

“Do we need the food?”

“We will later,” said Ianto.