m_findlow

Title: Whipped into shape
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 245 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for mirrored_illusions’s prompt "any, any, trying out the whipped cream cliche" at fic_promptly
Summary: Something tasty is brewing in Ianto's kitchen

When Jack had offered to start cooking, Ianto wasn't going to complain. Who knew he had that talent hidden away under the outrageous, gunslinging hero facade. From pasta and noodles to cutlets and cakes, there didn't seem to be anything he couldn't whip up in Ianto's kitchen.

The only problem with Jack's cooking that Ianto could find was his choice of attire, or lack thereof.

Somewhere along the way, Jack had decided that the only way he could create in the kitchen was in the nude, dressed only in an apron.

Normally Ianto wouldn't have objected, but it turned out that it was incredibly distracting. For Ianto that is.

He couldn't remember the last time Jack had actually succeeded in putting food to plate.

Today's effort was pancakes, ostensibly for the very late breakfast they were having after a long night out tracking weevils.

Maybe it was the luscious smells floating around his kitchen that was turning him on. Maybe it was the irresistibly toned musculature of Jack's exposed back, the skin always a few shades darker than his own, though mysteriously never exposed to any more sunlight.

Or maybe it was the way he watched Jack's cheeks clench ever so slightly as he lifted the pan and flipped the pancakes over. Clench, flip. Clench, flip.

Whatever it was, Ianto was certain of just one thing. Something was about to get smothered in jam and whipped cream, and it wasn't going to be Jack's pancakes.