Double Drabble: Test Of Strength
Aug. 28th, 2024 05:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knittedTitle: Test Of Strength
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto, Jack, Nosy.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 828: Drop at
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torchwood100.Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: When it comes to arm-wrestling, Jack isn’t as strong as he thinks he is.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto sat back on the sofa, smiling as he watched his husband. Jack was so focused and intent, but Ianto could already tell he wasn’t going to win this battle.
He’d been supremely confident at the start, because that was how he was, always certain that thanks to being from the fifty-first century, he had some kind of physical advantage over lesser beings. Ianto considered that attitude arrogant and condescending, but he loved Jack in spite of it, and anyway, he really did have better eyesight and hearing than most twenty-first century humans, not to mention faster reflexes.
The strain was starting to tell on Jack though; he was clenching his jaw, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Even as Ianto watched, one big drop trickled downwards and dripped from the end of his nose. Jack gritted his teeth and strained harder, giving the test of strength everything he’d got, breathing hard. His arm, elbow digging into the surface of the coffee table, was starting to shake.
“Give it up, Jack, before you burst a blood vessel.”
“No!” Jack ground out, but he couldn’t prevent his arm being pushed downwards.
Ianto sighed. “Told you not to try wrestling Nosy.”
The End
He’d been supremely confident at the start, because that was how he was, always certain that thanks to being from the fifty-first century, he had some kind of physical advantage over lesser beings. Ianto considered that attitude arrogant and condescending, but he loved Jack in spite of it, and anyway, he really did have better eyesight and hearing than most twenty-first century humans, not to mention faster reflexes.
The strain was starting to tell on Jack though; he was clenching his jaw, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Even as Ianto watched, one big drop trickled downwards and dripped from the end of his nose. Jack gritted his teeth and strained harder, giving the test of strength everything he’d got, breathing hard. His arm, elbow digging into the surface of the coffee table, was starting to shake.
“Give it up, Jack, before you burst a blood vessel.”
“No!” Jack ground out, but he couldn’t prevent his arm being pushed downwards.
Ianto sighed. “Told you not to try wrestling Nosy.”
The End
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