Title: Appetite
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 3, 50ficlets
Prompt: 39, Breakfast
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor glanced over at Ianto as the two of them moved around the Tardis' kitchen, making breakfast after a leisurely morning spent in bed. His eyes swept admiringly over his young lover's body, not wanting to pull his gaze away.

Really, Jack had been a fool to give this man up, he thought as he set the plates down on the table and began to arrange the cutlery. But then, Jack had never had mornings like this with Ianto -- at least not from what the young man had told him.

Jack had never shared a morning lying in bed with Ianto, talking in whispered words and intimate caresses about how much they loved each other. He'd never known what it was like to be wrapped in that love, to feel safe and secure.

But of course, Jack had never wanted the kind of love and security Ianto represented to the Time Lord. They were two different men; their needs and desires were vastly different. Which was why the two of them didn't work as a couple and never would have.

He and Ianto not only worked, they thrived. He'd never been as happy and contented in his life as he was with this man by his side.

Turning back towards Ianto, he leaned against the table and watched as the other man began to scramble eggs for breakfast, admiring his graceful movements. Only Ianto could make something as simple as cooking look almost like a dance ....

Moving forward, he slipped his arms around Ianto's waist from behind, resting his chin on his lover's shoulder. Ianto let out a soft gasp, then turned his head to look at the Time Lord, a soft smile on his mouth, his blue-grey eyes sparkling.

"I'm glad you like your eggs scrambled," he said, lifting the pan slightly and indicating the eggs. "That's the only way I know how to make them. I really should learn a bit more about cooking so we won't be eating the same thing all the time."

The Doctor shook his head, returning Ianto's smile. "Nonsense, love. You don't have to learn how to cook -- the Tardis does that for us, you know. Still, it's nice to see you in the kitchen like this. I actually find it rather sexy to watch you cooking half-naked."

Ianto laughed softly, taking the pan from the stove and carrying it to the table. "Well, I could take off all my clothes, but that might pose a problem."

"Oh? And what would that be?" the Doctor asked, following Ianto to the table and sitting down. He reached for the coffeepot, pouring some of the dark liquid into Ianto's mug as well as his own before looking up at his lover with his brows raised in question.

"It would be far too easy for me to have a slight mishap at the stove and burn something that you .... errr .... might need," Ianto told him, sitting down across from him. "Besides, burns to that part of my anatomy wouldn't be pleasant."

The Doctor had to laugh, nodding and agreeing with his lover's words. "You're certainly right about that," he said, reaching for a slice of toast and the strawberry jam. "I'd prefer to keep you whole and intact, love. I couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt."

"That's not a kind of hurt I'd get over easily," Ianto said, wincing and placing a hand over his crotch. "Ouch! I don't even want to think about it. Though I have survived a kick to the balls before. Not something I want to experience again."

The Doctor shivered, one hand instinctively moving between his legs. "Let's not talk about that at the breakfast table, love! I don't want to lose my appetite."

Ianto laughed again, reaching across the table to brush gentle fingertips over the Doctor's cheek. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to make you feel queasy at breakfast. Forget I said anything." He looked chagrined, returning his gaze to his plate.

"No worries, Ianto." The Doctor's voice was soft, soothing. "I don't get upset that easily, you know. I was just joking." He picked up his fork, looking over at his lover with a small smile on his lips. "I do that once in a while. Though sometimes my sense of humor can leave something to be desired."

Ianto shook his head, his good humor restored by the Doctor's words. "I think your sense of humor is just fine, sweetheart." He leaned across the table, reaching for the jar of strawberry jam. "Here, let me do that. I should be waiting on you, since I'm the cook."

He began to spread strawberry jam over the toast that the Doctor had picked up, handing it to the Time Lord when he was done and spilling a bit of the sticky substance onto the other man's smooth chest in the process. He couldn't take his eyes off that bit of jam clinging to his lover's skin.

Slowly, Ianto got up from his chair and moved to kneel in front of the Doctor, looking up at the other man with a smirk on his face. Somehow, he had the feeling that the food was going to be ignored in favor of satisfying an appetite of a different kind -- and he would start by licking that jam away.

***