m_findlow

Title: Long soak
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 954 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for juliet316’s prompt "any, any, a nice hot bath" at fic_promptly
Summary: Ianto finds a way to cure Jack's ills

It had been a bad day, and all of the team had returned in pretty bad shape. Owen had patched them up as best he could, and Jack had sent them home, telling them not to come back for several days, pending any major crisis.

Ianto hadn't yet gone home. This place had practically become his home.

'Coffee?' he offered Jack.

'Sure, just give me fifteen minutes.'

He headed into his office, and down the ladder to his tiny bunker. The others could have a few days off to rest and recuperate. He owed them that much. But that meant he had to cover for them, and had to be fighting fit.

Nothing was broken, Owen had confirmed that much at least, but the rest would take a while to heal. There was one simple solution for that.

He pulled out his webley and rested the cool metal against his temple. It felt nice. Just as his finger was about to pull tightly on the trigger, he felt a warm hand wrap around his own on the gun.

'No,' came the gentle voice behind him.

Jack shut his eyes. 'Please let me do this. I don't want to feel the pain.'

'And what about my pain? Watching you die. Praying you'll come back.'

Jack felt his hand loosen its grip on the gun and the other hand carefully prising it from his own. His hand dropped to his side and once again the warm hand found his, wrapping itself around.

'Cuts and bruises will heal. Broken souls are much harder.'

Jack risked turning to meet his gaze, expecting to see hurt and sorrow, but instead only seeing love.

He let himself be lead towards the bathroom.

Even though Jack's gun was now safely out of the way, Ianto wasn't going to let Jack out of his sight for even a moment.

He began running the taps on the large bath, the hissing sound of the gushing water masking all other sounds.

Ianto stood in front of him, eyes focused on Jack's as he began undressing him, careful not to touch any wounds or sore spots. He stretched Jack's braces up and away from his body, before sliding them off. Then he undid each button on his shirt one by one, never losing eye contact, as fingers expertly worked their way down, unbuckling his belt and trousers, softly tugging the shirt tails free and slipping his shirt off his shoulders.

Jack could smell something issuing from the steaming bath behind him, what was that, lavender? He inhaled it deeply and it made him feel more relaxed than he could remember. He hardly noticed the pain as he raised his arms upwards, allowing Ianto to pull off his undershirt.

He watched as piece after piece of clothing was dropped unceremoniously into a pile on the floor. Ianto usually took such care to fold his clothes, but perhaps he'd already decided they were beyond salvaging. His own jacket had joined the pile, and he'd rolled up his sleeves, leaning across Jack to check the temperature of the water. Satisfied, he quickly removed the remaining shoes and socks as Jack sat on the bath's edge, before helping Jack climb into the deep hot water.

Jack sank low into the water, letting it rise all the way to the tops of his shoulders. The scalding heat set his body afire and specific cuts and grazes stopped their protesting for a few minutes as he adjusted.

A soft rolled up towel found its way underneath his head and neck, sparing it from the hard edge of the bathtub.

Whilst the rest of Jack's body soaked in the soothing water, he felt Ianto's fingertips begin gently massaging the base of his neck and then rose into his scalp prodding and rubbing, easing away the tension Jack hadn't even known was there. He moaned in response to the sensation.

As soon as he felt Jack relax sufficiently, he moved to the side of the bath and soaked a flannel, beginning to work at the gashes covering his body. He touch was light, so as not to aggravate or reopen any wounds, but just enough to cleanse the areas of the blood and dirt caked onto his skin. Jack was almost sedated by the soothing circles of the flannel against his skin.

When Ianto was satisfied, he reached in and let out the now rust coloured water, filling it afresh with more scalding hot water, lavender and a tiny amount of antiseptic.

He folded his arms and rested his head on the edge of the bath, watching the easy expression on Jack's face, almost asleep, and all signs of his earlier anxiety gone. Just when he thought Jack truly had fallen asleep he heard him utter the words 'Stay with me?'

'I'm not going anywhere,' he replied.

Jack opened his eyes and reached out a wet hand to his face, thumb tracing over the nasty cut just above his eyebrow.

'I want to hold you.'

Ianto slowly stood up, gingerly undressing himself. As he rose and stepped into the bath, Jack could see for the first time his own damaged body, covered in shades of deep red wine and midnight from the bruises that covered it.

When the explosion had gone off he'd been buried under an enormous pile and packing crates. It had taken the others over an hour to shift enough debris to get to him, unconscious, but alive.

Jack was ever so careful as he pulled Ianto against his own body, wrapping arms around him, their heads leant against one another's.

They'd been lucky. But Jack could help but wonder how long it would be until their luck ran out.