Fic: The Sandwich
Dec. 6th, 2019 06:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bk_forever
Title: The Sandwich
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack’s eating habits seem to have grown even worse now he’s eating for three.
Word Count: 743
Written For: Challenge 155: Triple at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
beattheblackdog.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
When Jack wasn’t in his office, Ianto decided the next best place to look for his husband was probably the Hub’s new and improved kitchen area. He was right. There his husband stood, putting the finishing touches to a massive triple-decker sandwich crammed with ham, cheese, watercress, mustard pickle and the contents of a packet of smoky bacon crisps, judging by the fragments scattered across the worktop. The monstrosity was at least five inches tall, and how Jack expected to get his mouth around it was anybody’s guess.
“Jack, what on earth is that?” A stupid question, perhaps, but it was the first thing that popped into Ianto’s mind.
“Lunch?” Jack suggested, not looking guilty in the slightest.
“It’s barely eleven!”
“Elevenses then.” Jack cut the sandwich in quarters diagonally, scattering more crisp crumbs and several blobs of mustard pickle.
“You’re not seriously going to eat that, are you?”
“Yep!” Jack picked up a quarter, squashed it as flat as he could, reducing its thickness by maybe an inch, and took a huge bite, dripping pickle down his shirt and shedding crumbs all over the floor.
Ianto groaned in despair and covered his face with both hands.
“What?” Jack muffled through his mouthful.
“Have you seen the mess you’re making? A mess that I will no doubt be expected to clear up.”
“Sorry, but I’m hungry. I’m eating for three, remember.” Five months pregnant with twins, at least meat was still on the menu this time, as long as it was cold and Jack didn’t have to smell it cooking.
“If you keep eating like that you’ll end up the size of a house.” Ianto was genuinely worried; when Jack had been pregnant with Meriel he’d got so big he couldn’t reach his feet and even just getting into or out of a chair had been a struggle. It had made him depressed until Ianto had assigned Nosy to the task of looking after him. With twins he was bound to get even bigger, and eating as much as he was would only make it worse. He was already almost as big as he’d been at seven months with Meriel.
“But I have to eat when I get hungry!” Jack wailed, his lower lip wobbling a bit. “If I don’t I get all weak and light-headed.”
“Well perhaps if you just eat half your sandwich now and the other half in an hour or two… Did it have to be a triple-decker?”
Jack looked sheepish. “I couldn’t decide whether I wanted ham and pickle, cheese and pickle, or ham and cheese,” he mumbled.
“And the crisps?”
“They make it all crunchy.”
Ianto supposed it wasn’t as bad as last time, when Jack had spent most of his pregnancy constantly craving Mars Bars with marmalade, although his husband had recently developed a habit of munching on raw onions at night, which made him a bit whiffy to sleep beside. He reminded himself again that their babies would be worth it.
“Celery and carrot sticks are crunchy too. So are apples, and they’re a lot better for you than crisps.”
“But they don’t taste as good, and celery gives me gas. Can we have baked beans for dinner tonight?” Jack shoved the rest of his first quarter of sandwich in his mouth, a hopeful expression on his face.
“If that’s what you want. On their own or with baked potatoes?”
“Um…” Jack considered the question. “With cauliflower cheese?”
It sounded a bit disgusting to Ianto, but… “Fine.”
Four more months, or possibly only three and a half, and the babies would be here, Ianto told himself. That wasn’t so long, just a matter of a few weeks. Surely he could cope with Jack’s huge appetite, the triple helpings of everything on the grounds of feeding three, his peculiar and endlessly varied cravings, and the smell of onions for that long
“Why don’t you take your sandwich over to the sofa while I clean up here, then I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
“You are the best husband ever!” Jack declared, giving Ianto a pickle-flavoured kiss.
“I must be,” Ianto muttered to himself as soon as Jack was out of earshot. He made a mental note to pick up some more onions and another loaf of bread when he went to get a cauliflower for dinner. Jack might claim to be eating for three, but he was getting though food enough to feed an army.
The End
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack’s eating habits seem to have grown even worse now he’s eating for three.
Word Count: 743
Written For: Challenge 155: Triple at
beattheblackdog. Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
When Jack wasn’t in his office, Ianto decided the next best place to look for his husband was probably the Hub’s new and improved kitchen area. He was right. There his husband stood, putting the finishing touches to a massive triple-decker sandwich crammed with ham, cheese, watercress, mustard pickle and the contents of a packet of smoky bacon crisps, judging by the fragments scattered across the worktop. The monstrosity was at least five inches tall, and how Jack expected to get his mouth around it was anybody’s guess.
“Jack, what on earth is that?” A stupid question, perhaps, but it was the first thing that popped into Ianto’s mind.
“Lunch?” Jack suggested, not looking guilty in the slightest.
“It’s barely eleven!”
“Elevenses then.” Jack cut the sandwich in quarters diagonally, scattering more crisp crumbs and several blobs of mustard pickle.
“You’re not seriously going to eat that, are you?”
“Yep!” Jack picked up a quarter, squashed it as flat as he could, reducing its thickness by maybe an inch, and took a huge bite, dripping pickle down his shirt and shedding crumbs all over the floor.
Ianto groaned in despair and covered his face with both hands.
“What?” Jack muffled through his mouthful.
“Have you seen the mess you’re making? A mess that I will no doubt be expected to clear up.”
“Sorry, but I’m hungry. I’m eating for three, remember.” Five months pregnant with twins, at least meat was still on the menu this time, as long as it was cold and Jack didn’t have to smell it cooking.
“If you keep eating like that you’ll end up the size of a house.” Ianto was genuinely worried; when Jack had been pregnant with Meriel he’d got so big he couldn’t reach his feet and even just getting into or out of a chair had been a struggle. It had made him depressed until Ianto had assigned Nosy to the task of looking after him. With twins he was bound to get even bigger, and eating as much as he was would only make it worse. He was already almost as big as he’d been at seven months with Meriel.
“But I have to eat when I get hungry!” Jack wailed, his lower lip wobbling a bit. “If I don’t I get all weak and light-headed.”
“Well perhaps if you just eat half your sandwich now and the other half in an hour or two… Did it have to be a triple-decker?”
Jack looked sheepish. “I couldn’t decide whether I wanted ham and pickle, cheese and pickle, or ham and cheese,” he mumbled.
“And the crisps?”
“They make it all crunchy.”
Ianto supposed it wasn’t as bad as last time, when Jack had spent most of his pregnancy constantly craving Mars Bars with marmalade, although his husband had recently developed a habit of munching on raw onions at night, which made him a bit whiffy to sleep beside. He reminded himself again that their babies would be worth it.
“Celery and carrot sticks are crunchy too. So are apples, and they’re a lot better for you than crisps.”
“But they don’t taste as good, and celery gives me gas. Can we have baked beans for dinner tonight?” Jack shoved the rest of his first quarter of sandwich in his mouth, a hopeful expression on his face.
“If that’s what you want. On their own or with baked potatoes?”
“Um…” Jack considered the question. “With cauliflower cheese?”
It sounded a bit disgusting to Ianto, but… “Fine.”
Four more months, or possibly only three and a half, and the babies would be here, Ianto told himself. That wasn’t so long, just a matter of a few weeks. Surely he could cope with Jack’s huge appetite, the triple helpings of everything on the grounds of feeding three, his peculiar and endlessly varied cravings, and the smell of onions for that long
“Why don’t you take your sandwich over to the sofa while I clean up here, then I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
“You are the best husband ever!” Jack declared, giving Ianto a pickle-flavoured kiss.
“I must be,” Ianto muttered to himself as soon as Jack was out of earshot. He made a mental note to pick up some more onions and another loaf of bread when he went to get a cauliflower for dinner. Jack might claim to be eating for three, but he was getting though food enough to feed an army.
The End
