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Title: Huddling – Follows ‘Seeking Shelter’
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 591: Refuge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Huddling together is fine, but Ianto draws the line at anything else.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Jack had pushed Ianto into the doorway first, before huddling in behind him, his back to the opening, figuring his Coat would handle the elements better that Ianto’s. The gale screamed and moaned past their meagre refuge, chasing squalls of rain, but because the alleyway was narrow and at right angles to the direction of the wind, they were spared the worst of the deluge.
Rain, mixed with stinging hail, was coming down in solid sheets, turning the streets into rivers. The hail piled up in gutters and at the bases of walls, pinged and rattled off windows, parked cars, dustbins and dumpsters, like a host of demons playing an endless demented drum roll, but even that cacophony could barely be heard over the ceaseless howl of the wind.
Peering past Jack’s shoulder into the eerie twilight, Ianto hoped anyone else who happened to be outside when the storm hit had managed to find shelter.
“We could be here a while,” he shouted in Jack’s ear. “Doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon!”
Jack leered, pressing closer. Ianto knew that look only too well.
“Oh no, we are not shagging in a doorway in the middle of a storm!”
The End
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 591: Refuge at
tw100.Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Huddling together is fine, but Ianto draws the line at anything else.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Jack had pushed Ianto into the doorway first, before huddling in behind him, his back to the opening, figuring his Coat would handle the elements better that Ianto’s. The gale screamed and moaned past their meagre refuge, chasing squalls of rain, but because the alleyway was narrow and at right angles to the direction of the wind, they were spared the worst of the deluge.
Rain, mixed with stinging hail, was coming down in solid sheets, turning the streets into rivers. The hail piled up in gutters and at the bases of walls, pinged and rattled off windows, parked cars, dustbins and dumpsters, like a host of demons playing an endless demented drum roll, but even that cacophony could barely be heard over the ceaseless howl of the wind.
Peering past Jack’s shoulder into the eerie twilight, Ianto hoped anyone else who happened to be outside when the storm hit had managed to find shelter.
“We could be here a while,” he shouted in Jack’s ear. “Doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon!”
Jack leered, pressing closer. Ianto knew that look only too well.
“Oh no, we are not shagging in a doorway in the middle of a storm!”
The End
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