Title: Hunger
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 25fluffyfics
Prompt: 7, 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.

***

"You know, it's marvelous how the Tardis is so much bigger than she looks on the outside," Ianto told the Doctor as they lay in bed together. "And that she has all these .... things. I'd never have expected a fully equipped kitchen."

"Ianto, I may not be human, but I do have to eat," the Doctor laughed, snuggling closer to his boyfriend. "And you know that I don't carry money around with me to go out to places, so of course the Tardis would have a way for me to eat."

"I've never quite understood the whole money thing," Ianto mused, then shook his head as the Doctor opened his mouth to explain. "No, love, it doesn't matter. We don't need money. It's just a strange experience for me to do without it."

"Not a bad one, I hope?" the Doctor asked, his voice a little anxious. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable being here with me, Ianto."

Ianto laughed, pulling the other man close against the warmth of his body. "No worries, sweetheart. Of course I don't feel uncomfortable; it's just taking me a while to get to not basing so much of my life around money. It's one of the bad things humans do."

The Doctor nodded, the worried frown clearing from his face at Ianto's words. "I've never thought the reliance on money was a good thing," he murmured, his tone thoughtful. "Humans worry about how much money they have -- or don't have -- far too much."

"Well, you and I don't have to think about things like that," Ianto told him, raising a hand to ruffle the Time Lord's hair. "I think our biggest worry right now might be what we're going to do for breakfast. I don't think either of us wants to get out of bed to cook."

"It's your turn to get up first!" the Doctor told him, looking up at him with a mock pout on his handsome features. "I did it yesterday."

"No you didn't!" Ianto couldn't help laughing, both at the Time Lord's expression and at his words. "I've been making breakfast every day for the last few days. It's your turn! Now get into that kitchen and make me something to eat!"

He didn't really expect the Doctor to do so, of course. The two of them usually made breakfast as a team, bumping into each other and generally having a good time while they were cooking. And he'd been surprised to find that the Doctor was rather a good cook.

It was actually rather hard for Ianto to concentrate on cooking when the Doctor was usually wearing very little clothing during their morning forays into the Tardis' kitchen -- the temptation to strip his lover of whatever he might be wearing and take him back to bed was nearly impossible to resist.

And this morning, he didn't particularly feel like getting out of this wonderfully warm bed and going into the kitchen to think about preparing food. Not today.

Who would want to get out of bed? he told himself, tightening his arm around the Doctor's waist. He had a beautiful man in his arms, he was warm and comfortable, and the two of them had nowhere special to go and nothing planned to do.

Wasn't that the way they generally spent every day? Ianto couldn't help but smile as that thought crossed his mind; it wasn't a way of life that he was used to, but he was growing to like it. Spending time with the Doctor, with no interruptions -- that was his idea of a perfect life.

Of course, there would be interruptions sooner or later, even if there were none now. Given that his lover seemed to have a talent for attracting trouble -- or for jumping right into it without looking first -- their quiet time wouldn't last for long.

But they had it now -- and Ianto didn't intend to spoil it by getting out of bed. And he had no intention of letting the Doctor get up, either.

As the Time Lord threw back the covers, Ianto pulled the other man close against him, moving one hand down the Doctor's back. The Gallifreyan looked at him in surprise, brows raised in mute question. Ianto grinned and shook his head.

"You don't think I'm going to let you get out of bed when we're perfectly comfortable right here, do you?" he asked softly, his tone a little breathless. "I've got you naked in my arms -- the last thing I'm thinking about at the moment is breakfast."

"Aren't you hungry?" the Doctor asked, the innocence of his tone belied by the twinkle in those dark eyes. The look on his lover's face drew a smirk from Ianto; if his guess was correct, the Doctor wasn't really thinking about breakfast, either.

"Not at all," Ianto told him, his voice sinking to a lower husky note. "Well, maybe a little -- but it's not food that I'm hungry for."

"Oh? Would you mind telling me what you are hungry for?" The Time Lord looked up at him with a roguish smile curving his lips, his voice on the verge of laughter. "Just to be sure that I can accommodate you, that's all."

"I think you can guess," Ianto breathed into the Doctor's ear, his hands moving lower to cup the Time Lord's ass and pull the other man's body flush against his own. The Doctor let out a soft moan, his thin arms encircling Ianto's neck.

"You're not leaving much to my imagination," he managed to gasp out before Ianto's lips met his. By the time both men broke away from the kiss, Ianto was absolutely positive that the Time Lord wasn't thinking about breakfast any more.

And neither was he, the young Welshman thought as he rolled the Doctor over onto his back and bent down to kiss the other man again. At this rate, it was going to be a while before either of them saw the kitchen -- but he was sure that at least one type of their hunger would be completely sated.

***