omfg_yaoi_squee (omfg_yaoi_squee) wrote,
omfg_yaoi_squee
omfg_yaoi_squee

Fic - These Lives We Lead (2/?)


Title: These Lives We Lead

Author: omfg_yaoi_squee / ello luv / Mimi

Fandom: Torchwood

Characters/Pairings: eventual Jack/Ianto, mention of one-sided Gwen/Jack, Gwen/Rhys, one-sided Tosh/Owen (perhaps more in later chapters), John Hart/OFC, past Ianto/Lisa

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Jack Harkness is the most popular boy in year 13 – if not the entire school. When a new boy is transferred there, things start to get a little more complicated…

Thanks to my LJ betas:

eriinxx aranellaurelote , and butterflycell . Thank you also to my artist draw_yourworld . You’ll be seeing stuff from her late ^__^

Previous chapters:
Prologue - http://omfg-yaoi-squee.livejournal.com/87255.html

 

 

Chapter 1 – New Life

 

Ianto Jones stared blankly out the airplane window, dimly registering the scenery flying past as they slowed down. Just a few hours ago, Ianto had been back home in Cardiff. But now he was in London, his legs cramped from the seemingly interminable flight. 

 

As the plane pulled into an empty gate, Ianto unbuckled his seat belt.

 

‘You have to keep it on, dear,’ the kindly old woman sitting beside him said in a wavering voice.

 

Ianto ignored her, reaching instead to pick up his bag from the floor

 

When the plane pulled to a complete stop, the fasten seatbelt sign dinged off. The woman and her even older husband in the next seat slowly began to gather their things. Ianto grumbled to himself quietly, despite the fact that he knew it to be rude. The old couple made one last careful sweep of the area before finally beginning to shuffle towards the exit.

 

When he finally managed to get off the plane and into the airport, Ianto let out a sigh of relief to be out of the cramped space. Though his legs still ached, Ianto pressed onward, using his lithe frame as an advantage for slipping through the dense crowd, the messenger bag draped over his shoulder bouncing with every step.

 

Ianto made his way to the baggage claim where a gaggle of people waited with hand-made signs bearing names. Ianto paused, glancing around the crowd, the cheers and laughs of family and friends reunited loud in his ears. Finally, he spotted his father, Ifan, standing off to the side of the loud group of people. Ianto strode over and his father smiled.

 

‘Hello, Ianto. It’s been a while.’

 

Ianto regarded his father for a moment.

 

‘I have a couple of bags,’ he said finally, walking past the brunette man to the baggage claim carousel. He was being rude, and Ianto knew it.

 

Judging by the sigh from behind him, Ianto’s mother had given fair warning about Ianto’s’ foul mood. Ianto wasn’t always like this. True, his sense of humour could be fairly sarcastic, but most of the time he was a rather nice guy. It was just that today was exactly a month after “the incident”, as Ianto’s mother called it. Actually, it was a month after the revelation that led to the incident in question. Exactly a month since Lisa…Ianto stopped the thought in its tracks. Thinking about it would open his wounds afresh.

 

Ianto tugged his second bag from the baggage claim, placing it on the floor beside the first.

 

‘Let me get one of those.’ Ifan’s voice startled Ianto from his reverie, but he covered up his surprise quickly, murmuring thanks under his breath. Ianto followed his father to the car, loading his bag in the trunk and climbing in the passenger seat.

 

Soon enough, they were on the road, Ianto watching the scenery whiz by. It was so much more gray and gloomy here, Ianto thought, so unlike Wales.

 

‘Would you like to talk about it?’ Ifan’s voice once again startled Ianto from his daydreaming.

 

‘No.’

 

‘Are you sure? Rowan, er, your mother didn’t tell me much.’

 

‘No.’

 

They once again lapsed into silence. The openness of the airport area soon melted into gloomy buildings and the hoi polloi of a city teeming with life. Ifan finally pulled the car into a dark parking garage, taking a spot by a pair of steel lift doors.

 

‘Here we are,’ Ifan said finally, trying to keep a cheery face despite his son’s sullenness.

 

Ianto stepped silently from the car and walked into the building, heading straight over to the lift, Ifan close behind with the two bags. He pressed the up arrow and the doors slid open with a ding.

 

‘Fifth floor,’ Ifan said as they stepped inside. A tense silence fell once again as the lift rumbled and began to move.

 

A few moments later, Ianto was following his father down a narrow hallway to a door marked 502. Ifan unlocked the flat and allowed Ianto to step inside.

 

‘It isn’t much,’ Ifan said self-consciously, ‘but it’s home.’

 

Ianto stepped further into the flat. Directly across from the front door was a small kitchen connected to an eating niche. Turning left from the front door brought Ianto to a small, but cozy, living room with a worn blue sofa, an old leather armchair and an even older television.

 

The eating niche and living room both connected to a hallway that then turned at a right angle to a longer hallway. There were two doors off the side, across from each other, and one door at the far end.

 

‘That’s my room,’ Ifan said, indicating the far door, ‘yours is on the left and the bathroom is on the right.’

 

Ianto went to his room silently and opened the door cautiously. Contrary to the rest of the flat, the bedroom was rather large. A double bed was clad in clean white sheets and pushed up against the far wall. A bedside table stood at the head of the bed, and the walls were almost covered in full bookshelves.

 

‘Rowan said you liked to read, so I pulled all my books out of storage,’ Ifan explained as Ianto went to run his hands lovingly over the spines of the books.

 

There were so many different kinds of texts. From fiction to nonfiction, from sci fi to romance, from novels to collections of short stories to plays; the bookshelves held them all.

 

Ianto finally turned to face his father, suddenly embarrassed by his previous rude aloofness. It had been ten years since they had last seen each other, ten years since Ifan and Rowan’s divorce.

 

‘Thank you,’ Ianto said. And he meant it.

 

Chapter 2: http://omfg-yaoi-squee.livejournal.com/91856.html
Tags: fandom: torchwood, title: these lives we lead
Subscribe

  • These Lives We Lead (21/21)

    Title: These Lives We Lead Author: omfg_yaoi_squee / ello luv / Mimi Fandom: Torchwood Characters/Pairings: eventual Jack/Ianto, mention…

  • These Lives We Lead (20/21)

    Title: These Lives We Lead Author: omfg_yaoi_squee / ello luv / Mimi Fandom: Torchwood Characters/Pairings: eventual Jack/Ianto, mention of…

  • These Lives We Lead (19/21)

    Title: These Lives We Lead Author: omfg_yaoi_squee / ello luv / Mimi Fandom: Torchwood Characters/Pairings: eventual Jack/Ianto, mention of…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 4 comments