Gently Out of Time
Jack Harkness was a living contradiction.
Ianto watched him move around his office, sorting paperwork and carefully dusting the coral. Dim lighting played along the braces stretched over strong shoulders bunching under the cotton shirt, its collar brushing the spots Ianto enjoyed teasing.
Modern hairstyle, braces, technologically savvy, WWII greatcoat, 51st century pheromones, antique Webley, 51st century sensibilities…all these things characterized Jack. These things spoke to him. They spoke of him. Yet, none of them truly defined him.
Jack looked up and caught Ianto's eye, and smiled softly. Warmly.
Jack was a jumble of contradictions. Ianto treasured all of them.