Title: Drunkenness is an Excuse for Hurt/Comfort
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 1,423
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The Torchwood Team celebrates St. Patrick’s day in a bar, Ianto gets drunk, Jack has to take care of him.
Warnings: Drunk!Ianto, vomiting (not vomit-play or anything, just vomiting); fluff-tastic
A/N: Yeah, welcome my 21st birthday experience. Except I didn’t have a sexy Captain comforting me and making me breakfast. My equally hung over friend and I had to walk halfway across bloody Disney to get to breakfast (I threw up at least once on the way) and then hauled huge amounts of eggs, hash browns, and bacon back to the hotel room. Miserable thing, alcohol. Miserable, wonderful thing. Happy St. Pattie’s Day!

            “Come on, Ianto! Have another drink.” Ianto stared blurrily down at the pint that Jack had slid across the bar to him.

            “But I’m, uh…” What was he? Oh, right. “I’m drunk.”

            “Come on, Yan, keep drinking! Everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s day!” Owen cheered. He was apparently having a time of it: two very drunk women were wrapped around either arm, and his eyes blinked slightly out of sync.

            “Not uh, I'm Welsh...” Ianto hiccupped and blushed. He hated hiccupping when he was drunk. Made him feel like a teetotaler.

            Jack’s hot breath was on his neck, and heavy arm was pulling down on his shoulders. Ianto squinted up at Jack, one eye closed. Was he drunk, too? Jack never drank. But, huh, he looked drunk. At least, his cheeks were flushed, his hair was tousled, and his eyes were glittering. Actually, now that Ianto thought about it, Jack looked the same drunk as he did aroused. Ianto blinked. Well now he was horny.

            “Jack…” Ianto leaned closer to him, brushing his lips across his cheek. “Jack, are you-” hiccup “drunk or horny?”

            Jack’s breath huffed against Ianto’s cheek as he laughed. “Why are those my only two options?”

            Ianto blinked. What was he asking again? Oh, drunk and horny. “Because I’m both. Jack…” Ianto leaned forward and pressed his lips against the corner of Jack’s mouth. He meant to kiss him more properly, but his aim was a bit off at this point.

            “Okay, maybe you’ve had enough.” Ianto frowned. Jack was taking his pint away from him. But…he wanted his pint.

            Before Ianto could reach for his pint, he fell into Jack again. Jack’s chest was warm, and firm… “Jack, Jack…” Ianto clutched at Jack’s waist. “Hey, come on, let’s go back to the flat. I wanna…”

            Warm hands wrapped around him and pulled him upright. He felt Jack press a kiss to the top of his head as he dragged him bodily from the bar. “By Tosh! Bye Owen! Bye Gwen!” Ianto didn’t turn around, but waved vaguely over his shoulder in their general direction.

            He hummed happily as Jack dragged him to the SUV. As Jack tried to manhandle Ianto into the passenger seat and buckle him up, Ianto blinked at Jack. “Wait, you…can you drive?”

            Jack smiled reassuringly at Ianto. “I’m fine. Just sit there, I’ll get you home.”

            Ianto squinted and closed one eye again as he stared at Jack. “You promise?”

            Jack bent down and kissed Ianto gently on the forehead. “Promise.”

            Warmth flooded and Ianto’s body and he allowed himself to fall back into the seat. His door closed, and a moment later the driver’s side door opened and Jack slipped in next to him. “Jack, you’re so nice...” Ianto slipped his hand on Jack’s thigh, and was surprised when Jack quickly removed it.

            Ianto might have passed out once on the ride home, because when they pulled into his flat’s car park he couldn’t remember the drive over. His door opened and Jack was there, unbuckling his seatbelt and helping him down the steep step of the SUV. “Jack, stop it.” Ianto shoved ineffectually at Jack.

            “Come on, just get up your steps.” Jack’s voice tried to soothe him, wrapping him in warm cotton as they navigated the steps.

            Ianto fought his inebriation to try and form coherent sentences. “No, I mean, stop. I’m fine. Stop…” Ianto searched for the words, “stop mothering me.”

            Jack laughed again as they reached Ianto’s door. He felt himself being propped up against the door, supported by Jack’s weight leaning against him. Half-heartedly he reached for Jack, trying to get him interested. Jack calmly batted him away and opened the door, hauling Ianto in before shutting it behind them.

            Once inside his flat Ianto stumbled. Oh, he was drunk. This wasn’t fun anymore. Jack was talking somewhere behind him as they navigated their way further in. “Had a date once who couldn’t hold her liquor. She was this hotshot pilot, thought she could beat me in a drinking contest. Of course, hypervodka and water look exactly the same, and what she didn’t know was I had bribed the bartender.” Jack’s laugh, normally a warm, comforting noise, rumbled through Ianto. Definitely not fun. “She ended up so sick all over-”

            Ianto stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he vomited up (what felt like) everything he had drank that night. “Oh, Ianto.”

            Oh, that felt so much better. Ianto cringed at the terrible taste in his mouth and batted around for his washcloth. It appeared next to him and was pressed into his hands. He took it gratefully and wiped his mouth with it. “Poor thing…” A hand rubbed up and down his back soothingly. Who was…oh, right.

            “Jack, no…”

            “It’s okay, Ianto. I’m here.”

            Ianto clambered at the toilet bowl, attempt reach the flusher. Jack gathered what he was doing and pressed it down for him, heaving Ianto up and away from the toilet bowl at the same time. “No, go. Don’t want you to, see me like this…”

             If his face wasn’t already flushed from alcohol, Ianto was sure it would be turning red with embarrassment. There was a pause, then, “Oh, Ianto. You take care of me, let me take care of you. Just this once.”

            Under any other circumstances, Ianto would have put up more of a fight. But Jack’s hand on his back was so warm, and his head was so foggy and hurt and confused…Without a word, Jack led Ianto into his bedroom, stripping him out of his clothes and tucking him under the covers carefully. The last thing Ianto remembered before he drifted off was the bed dipping behind him, and Jack’s arms wrapping around him.

**

            The next morning, Ianto awoke with a terrible, nauseas feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Oh…” He rolled out of bed, slipping out from Jack’s arms carefully. Stumbling into the bathroom, Ianto held himself over the toilet, willing himself to vomit. Vomit. Vomit and you’ll feel better. “Uh...” Ianto’s body hated him. Or alcohol. Or both.

            He fumbled with the shower, flipping it on and wincing at the noise. Gingerly he slipped in once the water was hot enough, then sat on the floor of the shower and held his head in his hands, letting the water sluice off of him. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, letting the water wash away the feel of sick that clung to his skin from last night. Occasionally he would turn around and turn the water up hotter as it cooled.

            The curtain moved next to him, but Ianto kept his head down. A moment later, Jack’s legs were sliding around him, and he was settling his chest against Ianto’s back. Ianto leaned back into the touch. “Feeling better?” Jack’s lips brushed the shell of his ear, pausing to kiss it.

            Ianto stopped himself from shaking his head. “Not much.”

            When Jack’s chuckle vibrated through him, Ianto groaned. “Oh, no, don’t do that Jack.”

            “Sorry, sorry.” Jack’s hands slid over Ianto’s legs soothingly. “Not going to do that again, hm?”

            “No.” Ianto shivered. The water was turning cold. Jack felt it, and he patted Ianto’s thigh. “Come on, get back in bed. I’ll bring you some aspirin and water. You feel like eating yet?”

            Ianto’s stomach rumbled in response. “Starved.”

            Carefully Jack lifted Ianto out of the shower, turning the water off as they stepped out. He wrapped a towel around Ianto and scrubbed him gently. Ianto peered mournfully up from out of the towel. “I hate you taking care of me like this.”

            Jack grinned. “But you’re just so cute.” He pecked Ianto on the tip of his nose, and Ianto scrunched up his face.

            “Don’t, sir.”

            “Don’t what?”

            Ianto squirmed away from Jack, trying his best not to move too quickly. “Don’t take care of me. Uh,” Ianto held his head as it swam for a moment. “It’s my fault I’m in this way, and I’ll just have to deal with the consequences.”

            Jack’s arms wrapped around him, and Ianto sighed as he felt Jack’s cheek resting on his shoulder. “I know, Ianto.” Fingers ghosted across his stomach, and Ianto wished he felt well enough to respond appropriately. “But I’m here.” With a gentle pat, Jack released Ianto and padded off toward the kitchen. Ianto stared out after him, hair mussed and dripping, towel still wrapped round his shoulders. Jack kept managing to surprise him.