m_findlow

Title: Origin unknown
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Greg Bishop
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 500 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 555 - Runaway at slashthedrabble
Summary: Greg can't help but be intensely curious about the man he shares his bed with.

Greg leaned over and propped himself on his elbow in bed. From this angle he had a much better view of his companion, although Jack from any angle was a study in perfection, not that he'd ever admit it to the man.

Jack's head drifted sideways to meet his gaze, resting casually as he had his arms folded behind it. 'Like what you see?'

Greg smirked at Jack's inflated opinions of himself. 'That's a loaded question.' If he didn't like what he'd seen, he never would have been here. Even then, he'd resisted as long as he could.

He'd been warned about Jack when he'd joined Torchwood. Trouble with a capital T, bold, underlined and circled for emphasis. Of course, he wasn't exactly Brennan's favourite around here, so Greg took her advice with a grain of salt. He couldn't help it though. Jack had worn him down with his endless plays for Greg's affections. He was clearly besotted by Greg and it had been years since Greg had been in anything that might be considered a proper relationship, hidden as they were on account of the times they lived it. Slowly though, he was beginning to find it difficult to imagine a life that didn't have Jack in it.

Jack turned on his side, so close to Greg that it forced him onto his back as Jack reached up a hand, carding his fingers through Greg's jet black hair. 'Well, I like what I see,' Jack replied, leaning down to begin a trail of feathery kisses along Greg's jawline. The way Jack moaned as he did it was almost shameful so Greg made little noises of his own, letting Jack continue on.

'Where are you from, Jack?' Greg asked whilst Jack's lips worked their way down his neck and across his shoulder.

He paused briefly. 'Brennan didn't read you in?'

Greg reached down and began running his fingers through Jack's own hair. 'I don't want the lies you fed to her and everyone else. I want to know the real story. How does a man who can't die end up here?'

Jack ceased his ministrations, blues eyes coming up to meet Greg's. There was an unusual hesitancy in that expression that Greg had rarely seen. He expected a grin and a sparkle in those eyes as Jack began some outlandish tale. Greg didn't believe half the things Jack told him, but now Jack looked worried.

'You don't have to,' Greg quickly added. 'Just me being curious again.' He stroked Jack's face as those eyes continued to bore into him until he finally managed to pull Jack down on top of him, letting Jack's head rest in the crook of his shoulder, the sandy brown hairs tickling his nose and he buried it down inside them, breathing in Jack's scent.

'I'm nobody,' he heard Jack murmur. 'Just a boy who ran away from home looking for adventure.'

Greg pressed his lips to Jack's forehead. 'Well, you'll always be somebody to me.'