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fan_flashworks2023-09-19 12:17 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fan_flashworks2023-09-19 12:17 pm
Entry tags:
Torchwood: Fanfic: Hard lessons
Title: Hard lessons
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 666 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 419 - The Last Word
Summary: Jack has to learn life’s lessons the hard way.
‘Why is it still bleeding?’ Jack complained, squirming more than Ianto would have liked as he tried to keep Jack’s nose pinched and his head tilted forward. Jack had long ago given up holding his own nose, moaning that he was getting a cramp in his hand from doing so.
‘What can I say? You must have weak blood vessels up there.’
‘It’s been over an hour!’
Ianto nodded. It was true that it was unusual for a nosebleed to last this long. Owen assured him that there was nothing to be concerned about yet. It should have coagulated after about twenty minutes, but until they reached the two hour mark, he'd suggested they not go anywhere. If it needs cauterising we can do that later, Owen told him, but it should eventually stop on its own.
‘Ah, ha, ha!’ Jack whimpered as Ianto switched out the old, now tepid ice pack from around Jack's neck, replacing it with a fresh, frozen one. ‘That’s cold!’
‘It's meant to be cold, you pillock,’ Ianto said. ‘And stick a few more of these in your mouth while you're at it,’ he said, proffering the plastic cup full of ice chips. Not only were they supposed to help constrict the blood vessels in Jack's face, slowing the bleeding, but they’d also keep his mouth occupied by something other than complaining.
‘It doesn't usually bleed this much,’ Jack said, before plucking a few chips of ice out of the cup and begrudgingly sticking them in his mouth, slowly sucking on them and pressing them against the roof of his mouth.
‘Been punched in the nose more than a few times, I’m guessing,’ Ianto quipped, unsurprised by the fact. He’d socked Jack himself once before, though he’d taken out Jack’s lip more than his nose. That was the trouble with throwing a fist in anger. It didn’t always quite hit its mark, though it had done a reasonable amount of damage regardless. ‘I don't care how much you say you heal quickly, you're guaranteed to have a swollen schnoz in the morning.’
Jack mumbled a sulking noise through closed mouth and clogged nose.
Ianto patted his cheek. ‘Yes, only a face a mother could love, I'm afraid,’ he said teasingly. ‘Or your long suffering boyfriend. You certainly won’t be posing for any calendar pictures.’
He loosened his grip on Jack's nose for a moment to check its progress and then a fresh wave of bright red blood immediately spilled out of it, soaking the tissue underneath in seconds. It hadn’t even begun to look like slowing and clotting.
Ianto gripped it tightly once more and tossed the saturated tissue in a small plastic tray next to him on the desk, plucking another wad of clear tissues from the box and clutching them in his spare fingers, nestling them underneath Jack's nose to catch any more wayward drops.
He sighed at the state of his lover. ‘You'd think that with all your many years of life experience and wisdom you'd have developed a better sense of when to hold your tongue,’ he said conversationally, knowing that Jack couldn't reply until the ice chips were fully melted. ‘But, no. You always have to have the last word in any argument, don't you? Even when you know you’re wasting your breath.’
Jack swallowed back his mouthful of cool melted ice, struggling to do so given the position Ianto was trying to keep his head, forced to swallow backwards and at an upward angle. ‘You know I was right,’ he said, sounding ridiculous with his nasal undertones.
‘Being right isn't the be all and end all.’
‘Says the man who claims to know everything.’
Ianto rolled his eyes. ‘And yet you don't see me sporting a broken nose and the nosebleed from hell. I’ve also never felt the need to correct someone who is seven foot tall and plays as a prop for the national rugby team. That’s not wisdom, that’s just bloody common sense.’
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 666 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 419 - The Last Word
Summary: Jack has to learn life’s lessons the hard way.
‘Why is it still bleeding?’ Jack complained, squirming more than Ianto would have liked as he tried to keep Jack’s nose pinched and his head tilted forward. Jack had long ago given up holding his own nose, moaning that he was getting a cramp in his hand from doing so.
‘What can I say? You must have weak blood vessels up there.’
‘It’s been over an hour!’
Ianto nodded. It was true that it was unusual for a nosebleed to last this long. Owen assured him that there was nothing to be concerned about yet. It should have coagulated after about twenty minutes, but until they reached the two hour mark, he'd suggested they not go anywhere. If it needs cauterising we can do that later, Owen told him, but it should eventually stop on its own.
‘Ah, ha, ha!’ Jack whimpered as Ianto switched out the old, now tepid ice pack from around Jack's neck, replacing it with a fresh, frozen one. ‘That’s cold!’
‘It's meant to be cold, you pillock,’ Ianto said. ‘And stick a few more of these in your mouth while you're at it,’ he said, proffering the plastic cup full of ice chips. Not only were they supposed to help constrict the blood vessels in Jack's face, slowing the bleeding, but they’d also keep his mouth occupied by something other than complaining.
‘It doesn't usually bleed this much,’ Jack said, before plucking a few chips of ice out of the cup and begrudgingly sticking them in his mouth, slowly sucking on them and pressing them against the roof of his mouth.
‘Been punched in the nose more than a few times, I’m guessing,’ Ianto quipped, unsurprised by the fact. He’d socked Jack himself once before, though he’d taken out Jack’s lip more than his nose. That was the trouble with throwing a fist in anger. It didn’t always quite hit its mark, though it had done a reasonable amount of damage regardless. ‘I don't care how much you say you heal quickly, you're guaranteed to have a swollen schnoz in the morning.’
Jack mumbled a sulking noise through closed mouth and clogged nose.
Ianto patted his cheek. ‘Yes, only a face a mother could love, I'm afraid,’ he said teasingly. ‘Or your long suffering boyfriend. You certainly won’t be posing for any calendar pictures.’
He loosened his grip on Jack's nose for a moment to check its progress and then a fresh wave of bright red blood immediately spilled out of it, soaking the tissue underneath in seconds. It hadn’t even begun to look like slowing and clotting.
Ianto gripped it tightly once more and tossed the saturated tissue in a small plastic tray next to him on the desk, plucking another wad of clear tissues from the box and clutching them in his spare fingers, nestling them underneath Jack's nose to catch any more wayward drops.
He sighed at the state of his lover. ‘You'd think that with all your many years of life experience and wisdom you'd have developed a better sense of when to hold your tongue,’ he said conversationally, knowing that Jack couldn't reply until the ice chips were fully melted. ‘But, no. You always have to have the last word in any argument, don't you? Even when you know you’re wasting your breath.’
Jack swallowed back his mouthful of cool melted ice, struggling to do so given the position Ianto was trying to keep his head, forced to swallow backwards and at an upward angle. ‘You know I was right,’ he said, sounding ridiculous with his nasal undertones.
‘Being right isn't the be all and end all.’
‘Says the man who claims to know everything.’
Ianto rolled his eyes. ‘And yet you don't see me sporting a broken nose and the nosebleed from hell. I’ve also never felt the need to correct someone who is seven foot tall and plays as a prop for the national rugby team. That’s not wisdom, that’s just bloody common sense.’
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