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Entry tags:
Snowball Effect
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 850
Summary: Jack always sets a bad example...
Prompt: Jantolution Challenge #15, December, Traditions
Snowball Effect
Ianto hit the snow on his back, and heard Jack yell as he was flung aside as well. He threw himself over the top of the hill, rolling and sliding down the slope as Jack landed just where he had been and tumbled after him. Snow plumed around Ianto, blinding him in a flurry of white as the world turned over and over and over and the breath was knocked out of him with each bump. He reached the bottom of the hill with a sudden jolt, blinked up at the sky, dragged a gasp of cold air into his lungs – and had Jack land sprawling on top of him.
“Sorry,” Jack panted, and scrambled to his feet, giving Ianto a hand up. Jack dusted his coat down and turned to scramble back up the slope. Following, Ianto shivered as a handful of snow that had ended up under his collar now worked its way down his back.
“You okay?” Jack asked, as they crested the hill and he waved to Gwen to let her know they were in one piece.
“Bruised, wet and cold,” Ianto said succinctly, and Jack gave him a sheepishly apologetic look. “And yes, it is your fault.”
“Snowball fights are traditional,” Jack protested. “I wasn’t to know they’d get the wrong idea.”
Ianto snorted and shook his head, and looked down at the half-dozen aliens playing in the snow below them. Gwen had four of them making giant snow angels, while the one who’d got carried away and hurled him and Jack to the top of the hill was being soundly told off beyond them, over by the family’s ship.
“I hate tourists,” he decided. “Why did we ever get involved with them?”
“If we didn’t direct them out to the Beacons they’d turn up in a city centre somewhere,” Jack pointed out.
“And when did directing them into the countryside become joining them to play in the snow?” asked Ianto.
“When I realised this was way more fun,” Jack grinned. “You know you love it.”
Ianto shuddered as melting snow slid further down his spine, but Jack was looking thoughtfully at the perfect expanse of snow down this side of the hill.
“Did you bring a sledge?”
Ianto rubbed his gloved hands together, shifting awkwardly in an effort to get the snow on his back to finish melting and warm up. He shook his head.
“Didn’t expect you to revert to being ten years old,” he said flatly, and Jack blinked at him.
“Fourteen, at least,” he corrected, and pulled Ianto into a kiss.
Ianto was just considering forgiving him when Jack toppled them both into the snow and sent them rolling down the hill. When they stopped, Jack was laughing, even when Ianto shoved him onto his back and frantically scooped snow out of his coat sleeves and collar, cursing.
“What the hell –”
“It’s tradition,” Jack promised him. “It’s what you do with snow, everybody knows that. I’ll warm you up later.”
Ianto paused, staring intently at him for a second. When Jack’s laughter became tinged with a hint of nerves, he smiled slowly. That had Jack sitting up and looking very worried.
“What?” he asked Ianto warily. “Did you change your mind?”
“I remembered another traditional snow game,” Ianto told him, rolling to his knees and putting one hand against Jack’s cheek to hold his gaze.
Jack raised both eyebrows quizzically.
“Revenge,” Ianto said, and shoved a handful of snow down the back of Jack’s neck. Jack yelped and automatically tried to dig it out, giving Ianto time to leap to his feet and run for the warmth of the SUV.
A snowball hit his back before he’d made it twenty paces. He ducked to grab another handful and fling it back, and turned just as Jack was knocked flat by a five-foot wide snowball. Ianto winced as another fight sprang up among the Treeth children and Gwen went running for cover, then snuck to the SUV while everyone was distracted.
After a minute or so, Jack joined him, soaked from head to foot and shivering as he slammed the door.
“That was your own fault,” Ianto told him seriously.
At the pitiful look Jack gave him, he relented slightly and poured Jack a cup of hot coffee from the thermos he’d packed. Jack clutched at it like the Holy Grail and sank back with a sigh as he drank.
“Snow is all very well,” Ianto said, “but only for so long.”
Jack hummed agreement and drained the cup. He handed it back to Ianto, then pulled him in for another kiss.
“Good thing I’ve got you to keep me warm.”
“That’s very sweet,” Ianto conceded, packing the thermos away again, “but I think you missed your quota of innuendo in that one. Would you like to try –”
A snowball the size of a large van landed with pinpoint accuracy on the SUV, plunging them into darkness.
“Now that you mention it,” Jack said, and Ianto could hear the grin in his voice, “maybe I should try that again…”
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 850
Summary: Jack always sets a bad example...
Prompt: Jantolution Challenge #15, December, Traditions
Snowball Effect
Ianto hit the snow on his back, and heard Jack yell as he was flung aside as well. He threw himself over the top of the hill, rolling and sliding down the slope as Jack landed just where he had been and tumbled after him. Snow plumed around Ianto, blinding him in a flurry of white as the world turned over and over and over and the breath was knocked out of him with each bump. He reached the bottom of the hill with a sudden jolt, blinked up at the sky, dragged a gasp of cold air into his lungs – and had Jack land sprawling on top of him.
“Sorry,” Jack panted, and scrambled to his feet, giving Ianto a hand up. Jack dusted his coat down and turned to scramble back up the slope. Following, Ianto shivered as a handful of snow that had ended up under his collar now worked its way down his back.
“You okay?” Jack asked, as they crested the hill and he waved to Gwen to let her know they were in one piece.
“Bruised, wet and cold,” Ianto said succinctly, and Jack gave him a sheepishly apologetic look. “And yes, it is your fault.”
“Snowball fights are traditional,” Jack protested. “I wasn’t to know they’d get the wrong idea.”
Ianto snorted and shook his head, and looked down at the half-dozen aliens playing in the snow below them. Gwen had four of them making giant snow angels, while the one who’d got carried away and hurled him and Jack to the top of the hill was being soundly told off beyond them, over by the family’s ship.
“I hate tourists,” he decided. “Why did we ever get involved with them?”
“If we didn’t direct them out to the Beacons they’d turn up in a city centre somewhere,” Jack pointed out.
“And when did directing them into the countryside become joining them to play in the snow?” asked Ianto.
“When I realised this was way more fun,” Jack grinned. “You know you love it.”
Ianto shuddered as melting snow slid further down his spine, but Jack was looking thoughtfully at the perfect expanse of snow down this side of the hill.
“Did you bring a sledge?”
Ianto rubbed his gloved hands together, shifting awkwardly in an effort to get the snow on his back to finish melting and warm up. He shook his head.
“Didn’t expect you to revert to being ten years old,” he said flatly, and Jack blinked at him.
“Fourteen, at least,” he corrected, and pulled Ianto into a kiss.
Ianto was just considering forgiving him when Jack toppled them both into the snow and sent them rolling down the hill. When they stopped, Jack was laughing, even when Ianto shoved him onto his back and frantically scooped snow out of his coat sleeves and collar, cursing.
“What the hell –”
“It’s tradition,” Jack promised him. “It’s what you do with snow, everybody knows that. I’ll warm you up later.”
Ianto paused, staring intently at him for a second. When Jack’s laughter became tinged with a hint of nerves, he smiled slowly. That had Jack sitting up and looking very worried.
“What?” he asked Ianto warily. “Did you change your mind?”
“I remembered another traditional snow game,” Ianto told him, rolling to his knees and putting one hand against Jack’s cheek to hold his gaze.
Jack raised both eyebrows quizzically.
“Revenge,” Ianto said, and shoved a handful of snow down the back of Jack’s neck. Jack yelped and automatically tried to dig it out, giving Ianto time to leap to his feet and run for the warmth of the SUV.
A snowball hit his back before he’d made it twenty paces. He ducked to grab another handful and fling it back, and turned just as Jack was knocked flat by a five-foot wide snowball. Ianto winced as another fight sprang up among the Treeth children and Gwen went running for cover, then snuck to the SUV while everyone was distracted.
After a minute or so, Jack joined him, soaked from head to foot and shivering as he slammed the door.
“That was your own fault,” Ianto told him seriously.
At the pitiful look Jack gave him, he relented slightly and poured Jack a cup of hot coffee from the thermos he’d packed. Jack clutched at it like the Holy Grail and sank back with a sigh as he drank.
“Snow is all very well,” Ianto said, “but only for so long.”
Jack hummed agreement and drained the cup. He handed it back to Ianto, then pulled him in for another kiss.
“Good thing I’ve got you to keep me warm.”
“That’s very sweet,” Ianto conceded, packing the thermos away again, “but I think you missed your quota of innuendo in that one. Would you like to try –”
A snowball the size of a large van landed with pinpoint accuracy on the SUV, plunging them into darkness.
“Now that you mention it,” Jack said, and Ianto could hear the grin in his voice, “maybe I should try that again…”
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Ahem.
Thanke, glad you liked! ^_^
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Never was much of a fan of the snowball fight myself... snowmen yes, skiing on it yes, but throwing it around and getting covered in it, no...
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Aheh. Thanke for reading, though, glad you liked. ^_^
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(I bought the stamps from failblog.org. I am SO looking forward to wandering around town stamping stuff with WIN or FAIL!)
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The van-sized snowball made me laugh out loud. Snowball fights FTW.
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To pieces.
Ahem. Thank you very kindly. ;) Glad you liked!
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