Title: Occupied
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,400 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 474 - Animal
Summary: All the boys want is a quiet night at home to soak away the day’s aches and grime.


‘All I want when I get home is a nice hot bath,’ Ianto said. Jack spared a sideways glance at him and smiled as he watched Ianto sink down into the passenger seat as if he were already imagining himself sinking into the water. After their night's adventures they were both sweaty, damp and more than a little grimy.

Jack chuckled. ‘Ianto, your flat doesn't have a bath tub,’ Jack reminded him.

‘Then I'm putting it on my wish list of things I want next time I have to move. I suppose a very long, very hot shower will have to suffice.’

‘Need someone to help scrub your back and those hard to reach places?’ Jack asked, looking for an invitation. He couldn't deny that a long hot shower would be absolute heaven, cleaning away the filth and soothing aching muscles. Sharing it with a handsome Welshman would be pretty good too.

‘Of course,’ Ianto replied. It's important to be thorough, he added with a contented smile. There was no such thing as a quick shower when they shared it, Jack knew. Still, it didn't hurt to ask in advance. He didn't want to mess up any plans Ianto might have for a quick clean and then crashing into bed. A grumpy, sleep deprived Ianto was a scary creature indeed.

‘Next time you need someone to take a dip in the Butetown Docks, please call Owen,’ Ianto said, squirming in his seat as the dampness of his clothes reminded him of the slightly unconventional alien capture. Neither of them had intended on getting wet, but neither did their alien intend on being captured.

Jack felt every inch of weight from his sodden greatcoat pulling down on his shoulders as he made the turn into Ianto’s street. ‘Duly noted.’ He’d volunteer Gwen while he was at it. He and Ianto were overdue for a night off.

By the time they’d reached the apartment door, Jack was well and truly ready for the shower, and not in the way that he might usually be. Even he was itching to dispense with wet socks and an uncomfortably clingy undershirt in exchange for an oppressively steamy confined space and a large bar of soap. Thoughts of that relaxing shower were however quickly erased from his mind as he saw the state of the apartment interior.

He was completely taken aback by what he saw. Everywhere he looked, the place was in disarray. Chairs at the table were sitting askew or pulled out from under the table and abandoned, sofa cushions were lumpy and strewn haphazardly, one lying on the coffee table like a makeshift footstool and another on the floor. The open plan kitchen was just as much a mess with the sink piled full of used crockery, and extra mugs amassing as a small herd on the counter beside the overflowing sink. Droplets, and sometimes small pools, of orange and white liquid dotted the benchtop along with a healthy dose of crumbs and a scrunched up ball of cling film. It was as far from the immaculately maintained place of abode Jack was used to seeing as could be.

‘Ianto, I think you’ve been burgled!’ Jack exclaimed, though confused by Ianto's expression of calm.

Ianto sighed. ‘Nope.’

Jack found his tone disconcerting. ‘Okay, so when did you get a dog and not tell me?’ Jack had been trying to convince Ianto for ages that they should get a dog and Ianto had persisted with explaining to him all the reasons why that was totally impractical given what they did and where they lived, which for the most part, was at the hub. Jack could now see for himself just how destructive a pet could be if left alone to amuse itself and was seriously reconsidering pestering Ianto about the idea any further.

Ianto toed off his wet shoes and moved across the room to pick up the fallen cushion, tossing it tiredly back onto the squashed looking sofa. ‘The only animal here is Johnny,’ he said, pausing to push one of the chairs back under the dining table.

‘Johnny? As in your brother in law?’

‘Yup.’ He pulled open the dishwasher door, saw it was crammed to overflowing with dirty dishes and closed it again with an air of resignation. ‘He and Rhiannon are going through one of their rough patches.’

Jack frowned at this news. He hadn't heard anything about their relationship being on the rocks. ‘And your sister is okay with him staying here with you?’

‘Of course,’ Ianto said matter-of-factly. ‘That’s how it always works. They have a barney, Johnny stays with me for a week and Rhi knows that he’ll be fed and looked after – not out on a bender with the boys, eating nothing but chips on Caroline Street – and then they go back to how things always are.’

‘But…’ Jack gesticulated around the apartment. He didn’t want to use the word house proud because that always got up Ianto’s nose, but Ianto was very particular about things being neat and tidy, right down to which towels Jack should or shouldn’t use and rinsing out his mug and putting it away rather then just shoving it in the dishwasher to hide it. Johnny, it seemed, was a far worse houseguest than Jack ever was, and it was alarming at just how calm Ianto was about the state of his beloved little apartment. Either he was being well medicated or two seconds from having a complete meltdown, either of which didn’t bode well.

‘I know,’ Ianto said. ‘But he's family and it's only for a week. Well, a week and a bit now,’ he admitted, ‘but they’ll be okay. It's not usually this bad, but, you know, with the week we’ve had I've scarcely been home at all. Thank god the freezer is well stocked with microwave meals. Or at least it was.’

Jack forced a sympathetic smile onto his face. Bless Ianto his kind heart and infinite patience.

Ianto turned around and took in the whole of the space before frowning. Jack read the expression perfectly. Where was Johnny now? If he was a smart man, which Jack held reservations about, he’d be out, and not come back until Ianto was gone again the next morning. He followed Ianto down the hallway, pausing to remove his damp socks before making footprints along the polished boards.

Ianto stopped in the bedroom doorway and Jack had to peer over his shoulder. He'd recently acquired a very large wall mounted television for his bedroom after a long and unpleasant period of being bedridden whilst recuperating from an alien virus. He might have gone mad without the external stimulus, Jack having arranged for it to be delivered and set up for him, even footing the bill for the whole thing.

Now the bedroom hosted not only a massive fifty five inch television flickering through some rubbishy soap rerun, but a pudgy, beer bellied man sprawled asleep amongst crumpled duvet. At least he was wearing underpants, if nothing else, but tighty whities were not an attractive look, Jack thought.

‘Ah, the middle aged Welshman in its natural habitat,’ Ianto said, taking on a mock David Attenborough tone.

Jack cringed at the ungainly sight, taking up residence in Ianto's otherwise very comfortable bed. ‘Should we move him on?’

‘Good luck with that,’ Ianto said, pawing through the folds of duvet, searching for the remote to at least turn off the television. ‘That man can sleep through a nuclear holocaust.’ Then he sighed. ‘Looks like it’ll be the sofa for us tonight now.’

‘No way,’ Jack said, putting his foot down. They hadn’t trudged through filthy docks to be rewarded with a cramped night twisted on Ianto's nice, but not nearly big enough sofa. ‘There’s a suite at the St David’s Hotel with our name on it,’ he said, not caring how much it would cost, or if they had to book the penthouse suite because every other room was full. ‘I hear they even have bathtubs.’ Nice big ones with infinite amounts of hot water, fluffy towels and more than enough sachets of expensive bubble bath and mineral salts to soak away even the worst kinds of filth.

Ianto pulled the duvet over Johnny, sparing them any more of his pasty undressed complexion. ‘Sold. I could do with a night away from the zoo.’