Title: exalt the Soul to solemn Thought
Rating: G
Genre: Romangst
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Summary: They are seasonal.
Disclaimer: I don't even have job. I do NOT own these people/characters/internets.
Notes: Title from James Thomson's "The Seasons: Winter"


His mouth is like

Summer

Hot and

Safe and

Bright

Like melting

Like sunburn

Like skinny-dipping

Like sweat

Salty

In a warm breeze

Like heat

(Jack could drown in this, in his taste, he really could, and it almost didn't hurt)

The curve of his spine

Jut of his scapulae

Pale softness of his breadth

Is a barrier like

Autumn

Cooling and

Mercurial and

Dimmer

Like rain

Like deciduousness

Dripping gold and bronze

To escape being crushed

By the snow

(how he turned from him at night, when everything was too close to the surface, and)

Of my eyes like

Winter

Cold and

Wretched and

Dark

Like dead sheep

Like shivering

Like frostbite

Like the wind biting through

Frail skin

To

The trembling insides

Like desolation

(it was alright, it was okay, he was just protecting himself and really, he didn't mind)

His hand is like

Spring

In mine

Warm and

Loving and

Light

Like the thaw

Like drizzle

Like lambs that will

Almost certainly

Live

To see

Summer

(as long as Ianto kept holding his hand in the sunlight)