Hands speak volumes about their owners, thought Ianto Jones, looking surreptitiously at his co-workers.
He always watched peoples' hands very carefully and reality had rarely disappointed him.
Owen's hands were clinical. They were small with short nails, dry and cold. They were quick and efficient. They never beat about the bush and could even be blunt, sometimes. But they never inflicted unnecessary pain either.
Tosh's hands were slim and well-cared-for. Her fingers were nimble on her keyboard as if they acted of their own will. He remembered her handshake was firm and frank.
Gwen's hands were smooth and flexible. Always on the move, especially whilst she was speaking. Sometimes clumsy, they knew how to become gentle and comforting.
Jack's hands were large, tanned and slightly calloused. They were made for fighting and making love. They were strong, but could also be careful and tender. They made him feel safe.
Ianto didn't like his own hands. They were pale and too thin. They looked weak and were as insignificant as he was.
Jack sipped his coffee and glanced at Ianto working on his coffee machine. For a moment, he watched his hands thoughtfully whilst they worked their magic.
Undoubtedly, Ianto's hands were Jack's favorite part of him. Aside from his fantastic butt, of course, but that was another story.
They were lithe and soft. He liked their warmness and the way they made his skin prickle. Clenched in a fist, they were as hard as iron, but they also felt as light as a feather when they stayed on his shoulders.
Jack smiled, took another sip of coffee and leant back on his chair, wondering if Ianto knew how much they revealed of the real Ianto hidden behind the facade of the perfect butler.