Hot Chocolate (Series 1)

"You look like you could use this." Jack held out a steaming green mug covered in a hideous holly and ivy print. Ianto raised a curious eyebrow as he glanced up and took the offered drink.

"Where in the world did you find this?" he asked, warming his hands on the hot mug.

"I made it myself, actually," said Jack, sitting down with his own mug, an unsightly combination of mixed plaids, candy canes, and wreaths.

"You made it?" asked Ianto, holding up the mug with a decidedly dubious look.

Jack frowned. "What's wrong? Too hot? Too cold? Too much?"

"I was talking about the mug, Jack," Ianto replied dryly. "It's appalling."

"It's a mug," said Jack, rolling his eyes. "It holds liquid. It's not like the taste of the drink is directly proportional to the appearance of the cup it's in. Einstein proved it."

"He did no such thing." Ianto raised another skeptical eyebrow before taking a sip. He closed his eyes and smiled. "But I've been proved wrong. This is delicious."

"Thank you," said Jack, leaning back and sipping contentedly at his own. "I can't make coffee worth a damn, but I can do hot chocolate like few others."

"You certainly can," Ianto murmured. "It's perfect." They sat side by side on the sofa in silence, enjoying a rare moment of companionship unmarred by Rift alerts, Weevils, or squabbling coworkers.

Ianto was the first to set his empty mug down. "What did you add to it?" he asked, leaning back again, though slightly closer to Jack this time.

"What do you mean?"

"It has a kick," said Ianto. "A nice one." He folded his hands over his stomach and let his head fall back. "What did you add?"

"I used whole milk, chocolate, sugar, vanilla, a shot of coffee, and a pinch of cinnamon." Jack took a long drink and pretended to moan. "Not bad if I do say so myself."

"And what else?" pressed Ianto.

"Chocolate liquor," Jack replied with a wink. "Makes it extra chocolaty."

"Is that even a word?" asked Ianto, a relaxed smile on his face.

"Of course it is." Jack finished his drink, set it down, and leaned back next to Ianto, turning his head so that they were almost nose-to-nose. "And I'll tell you a secret. It was dark chocolate, too."

"Oh really?" asked Ianto. "Didn't know we had any of that."

"Good for your serotonin levels," Jack replied with a wink. Ianto groaned in response and turned away.

"Why do you bring that up every time we have chocolate?" he said. "No one likes having bad pick up lines tossed back in their face."

"So it was a pick up line!" crowed Jack. "I knew it!"

"It was for the dinosaur," murmured Ianto, though he was smiling. "And it was terrible."

"I don't know," said Jack, grinning as he bumped shoulders with Ianto. "I think you have some good lines."

Ianto let his eyes slip closed and shook his head. "Not really."

"Oh, come on," Jack teased. "There was the one about my coat, the one about catching the pterodactyl together, and my favorite—the one about the stopwatch."

Ianto's eyes flew open. "That was the worst one of all, Jack. I still can't believe I said that."

Jack patted his knee in mock understanding. "I know, but it had been a long day."

"And I can't believe you took me up on it." Ianto paused with a smirk. "After I explained it, of course."

Jack laughed. "Why wouldn't I have taken you up on it?"

Ianto remained silent, letting his eyes slip shut again, ruminations of a more serious nature obviously over for the moment.

"Do you want some more?" Jack asked, motioning at their empty mugs.

Ianto opened his eyes, gazed at Jack with a tired, bleary look, and then nodded before closing them again. "Thank you. And maybe a few biscuits, too."

Jack laughed as he stood and gathered their mugs. "Would you like me to cook dinner for you, too, dear?"

"I'd love it," Ianto replied, obviously without thinking. His eyes flew open. "I mean, I am a bit hungry, but I didn't mean that you…that we…" He stuttered to a stop, frowning. "Never mind. Just some biscuits, please."

"Biscuits and hot chocolate, coming up," said Jack. He disappeared for a few minutes and appeared with two new mugs and a plate of cookies. Ianto struggled to sit up, exhaustion obvious in his slow movements and the deep lines of his face.

"Jack, these mugs are even more hideous than the others," he pointed out, frowning at a rather inebriated Father Christmas dancing around a fireplace in green and red pants. "Where did you find them?"

Jack winked. "I hid them weeks ago. I didn't want you to get rid of them."

"Seriously?" asked Ianto. "We have a collection of ghastly Christmas mugs and you actually hid them from me so I wouldn't toss them in the rubbish bin?"

"Would you?" countered Jack.

"Of course I would," said Ianto. "They're scandalous. We are representatives of the Queen, after all." He took a deep sip of the dark liquid. "Oh, but that's even better. What did you put in this time?"

"Bit more chocolate liquor with a hint of peppermint schnapps."

"I didn't realize we had a fully stocked liquor cabinet as well as a collection of hideous holiday kitsch."

Jack shrugged. "We do now. I picked it up last week. It's festive, plus it's good for times like this—hot chocolate with a kick."

"Be good in coffee, too," Ianto murmured. "Not first thing in the morning, perhaps, but the afternoon maybe."

"Or after a late night search for alien tech in the cold rain?" suggested Jack, to which Ianto nodded.

"That too. So what was that thing we dug out of the bushes?"

"No idea," said Jack. "We'll let Tosh have a go tomorrow. Give her something to do since she hasn't had anything new come by her desk in almost a week. I think she's getting twitchy. The Rift has been quiet."

"That's because it's getting ready," Ianto murmured.

"For what?" asked Jack. He sipped at his mug, grinning at the image of nine reindeer doing a kick line.

"For something big," said Ianto. Jack raised an eyebrow. "You know I'm right. You've been here far longer than I have, and I can already sense the Rift acts in cycles."

Jack nodded, impressed at the man's acute perception of both Jack's past and the Rift's quirks. "You are right, I'll admit. That's been the pattern for several years now. So yes, I suspect something big as well."

"Hopefully not on Christmas," said Ianto. "London can deal with it." He polished off the last of his mug and set it down with a thump. Jack noticed a slightly pink tint to Ianto's cheeks, a softness about his eyes, and looseness in his body.

"Do you have plans for Christmas?" Jack asked casually.

Ianto shook his head. "Nope. Just trying to avoid any familial entanglements."

Jack didn't reply for a bit, hoping Ianto might volunteer more information. Yet when Jack finished his second drink and sat back, Ianto almost appeared asleep. Jack sighed, wishing Ianto was awake now that they had a chance to relax and talk.

"I'm awake," said Ianto without opening his eyes. "Just thinking."

"About how to avoid your family on Christmas?" teased Jack.

"Yep." Again, nothing more was offered, but this time Jack asked. He was feeling comfortable and curious and content.

"Why?"

"Why what?" asked Ianto.

"Why don't you want to see your family on Christmas? It's Christmas, it's family. It's what you're supposed to do." He waited while Ianto took a deep breath and sat up, turning to face Jack. It sent a slight thrill of warmth through him, this casual companionship and open conversation. Too often their interactions were still tainted with the memory of betrayal, or lost in a haze of lust. At that moment, Jack felt more at ease than he had in years.

"Too many questions," Ianto said softly. "They don't know what I do, so how do I even begin to explain the last eight months? I can't." He sighed. "It's better to avoid them, at least in large groups. I might be good at creating stories for what we do here, but I don't like creating my own stories for an audience."

"You're good at it." Jack laughed, but Ianto hung his head, misinterpreting Jack's comment.

"I know," he whispered. "And I'm sorry."

Jack's hand flew to Ianto's leg. "No, that's not what I meant at all. I just meant…well, damn."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry, too," said Jack, meaning it.

"I know."

More silence descended, accompanied by the awkwardness Jack had been thinking was pleasantly absent. He blew out a breath. "Another drink?" he asked.

"Trying to get me drunk?" asked Ianto, forced lightness in his voice.

"Just trying to relax. We deserve it. The Rift has been quiet, but the Weevils haven't."

Which was true. Weevil calls had kept them all out in some combination for several nights in a row. Everyone was taking turns, and that night just happened to be Jack and Ianto's turn. They had ended up chasing down half a dozen of the creatures before heading out for a small retrieval, and given that it was well past midnight, Jack was hoping there wouldn't be any more issues. He was tired, and Ianto looked knackered. He probably shouldn't be offering a third drink, but he wanted to reclaim the easy, open conversation from earlier. So he made them each a double.

Ianto's eyes went wide at the first sip. "You really are trying to get me pissed!" he exclaimed.

Jack shook his head with a grin. "I'm not," he said. "Although I bet you're a fascinating drunk."

"Fascinating?" Ianto rolled his eyes. "Not quite."

"So what are you, then?" asked Jack. "Fun, flirty, angry, depressed?" In spite of himself, Ianto apparently couldn't help grinning into his drink.

"I tend to get a bit…ah, affectionate, for one," he said, then shook his head. "No, that's night right. Horny and uninhibited is more like it," he laughed. "And a bit vulgar," he added.

"Then why in the world haven't we gone to the pub together?" teased Jack. "I would love to see a horny, uninhibited, and vulgar Ianto Jones."

"No, you don't." Ianto took a deep sip of his drink. "Which is why I should stop, but it's too good, and I'm too tired."

Jack made a sound of agreement. After a long silence, he chanced conversation again.

"So if you don't want to spend the holiday with family, why not the end of the world? It would give you a reason to get away."

Ianto rolled his neck, and Jack thought he heard it crack. "Right, because 'Sorry, mum, but I have to go and save the world from the green skinned lizard aliens of Alpha Centauri who just landed on the Plass' would go over well at a traditional Welsh Christmas dinner."

"They're not green," said Jack, grinning in reflection as he sipped his drink. It was strong, and he was starting to feel the effects. "And they're not lizards, either."

He pictured the look on Ianto's face: skeptical eyebrow, small frown, perhaps slightly wider eyes, and a shake of the head.

"I really don't know whether to believe you or not, you know."

"I know," said Jack. "But most of the time you can. Look it up in the archives sometime."

Ianto stood, but apparently too fast, because he fell right back down to the sofa, jostling Jack enough to send them both into a fit of giggles.

"I will. But not right now, apparently."

"Ooh, feeling horny, uninhibited, or vulgar yet?" asked Jack. He took another large gulp of his drink, finally starting to feel the pleasant warmth of the alcohol course through him and begin to relax limbs tired and sore from chasing Weevils so many nights. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. When Ianto didn't answer, he opened one eye and found the other man watching him with a grin.

"What?" asked Jack.

"Nothing," said Ianto. "Just wondering what you're like after a few drinks. Horny, uninhibited, and vulgar too?"

"Ianto, I am always horny, uninhibited, and vulgar."

"Point."

Silence. Jack turned sideways on the sofa and propped himself up on the palm of his hand.

"I get talkative when I drink. So if you're not crazy about spending the holiday with your family and don't want a major catastrophe as distraction, what are you planning to do?"

"Don't know," said Ianto. He was staring into the Hub, his eyes distant. "Might have proposed to Lisa, she once said she thought Christmas proposals were romantic." He shrugged. "Then again, I'm not very romantic, so I'm sure I would have mucked it up somehow."

Jack wasn't sure what to say, but he didn't want his lack of a response to answer for him. He let his hand reach toward Ianto's face, gently brushed his fingers down the man's cheek.

"You probably shouldn't be alone," he said softly, then wondered where that had come from, since it sounded a bit suggestive. And he was hardly one to talk, after all; he'd spent dozens of Christmases alone.

"Or it might be for the best," Ianto replied with a shrug. "I don't know what sort of company I'd be. I honestly haven't thought about it much. When I do, the idea of spending a quiet night in my flat, tucked away from the world, sitting in front of the fire watching bad holiday movies with a bottle of wine and a plate of fresh pasta sounds rather appealing."

Jack smiled. "Yeah, it does. I hope the Rift is quiet, then. You deserve it." He wondered if Ianto was thinking about asking Jack to join him, or if Jack should ask Ianto if he wanted to go out to dinner, since he couldn't very well invite himself over to the other man's flat, no matter how appealing Ianto's vision of Christmas sounded. Ianto said nothing, although he leaned in toward Jack's touch a bit more.

"Feeling affectionate?" teased Jack. Ianto glanced at him through thick eyelashes, that crooked half-smile on his face that made him look so damn sexy when they were alone.

"Might be," Ianto replied.

"Horny?" continued Jack, edging closer. "Uninhibited?"

"Oh, it doesn't take much for that lately."

"Really?" asked Jack. Yes, the alcohol had loosened Ianto's tongue if he was talking about sex.

"Yep." Ianto tilted his head to the side and Jack ran his fingers along the man's neck. "You and your secret magic sex powers."

"Magic sex powers?" Jack laughed. "I didn't think it was that big a secret, though."

Ianto shook his head. "I suppose not, the way you flirt and tell stories."

"But you like it," Jack murmured, leaning closer.

Ianto rolled his eyes, but they were heavy lidded with desire, and he licked his lips as he set down his mug, returning to the sofa and moving even closer.

"The stories or the powers?" he murmured. "Because I like one much more than the other."

"Oh, are we getting to the uninhibited part now?" asked Jack. He tossed back the rest of his drink and set it down, moving back to wrap an arm around Ianto's shoulder.

"Not quite," Ianto replied. His eyes slipped closed before he shifted away from Jack, neatly falling to the side and pulling Jack with him so that Ianto's hands were now firmly wrapped around Jack's waist and laying on his arse. Jack was rather impressed with the move. It must have shown on his face because Ianto grinned and raised one hand to the back of Jack's head, pulling him down.

"Uninhibited would be me asking you to come over for Christmas," Ianto replied. "Which I'm not." He brushed his lips against Jack's, moving his hips at the same time and pulling a low groan from Jack that had him grinning. "At least, not yet."

"Need another drink?" murmured Jack, teasing kisses along Ianto's jaw.

"Not if I want to shag you properly," Ianto murmured, then let his head fall back as he laughed. "Okay, maybe a bit uninhibited," he amended.

"Does that mean I get an invitation?" asked Jack. He sat up and undid Ianto's tie, then began unbuttoning his waistcoat, then his deep blue shirt. Ianto massaged Jack's upper thighs; it was rather distracting, especially as he was finding it hard to balance and not rub himself against Ianto's obvious erection.

"To what?" asked Ianto, his brow knitting together slightly. "To shag or be shagged?"

Jack laughed, running his hands up and down Ianto's bare chest. He slipped Ianto's tie off as he kissed the Welshman deeply, leaving them both slightly breathless. Tossing the tie on the table beside them, Jack started to lick a mark into Ianto's neck, right at the spot he knew drove the other man crazy.

"Do I need an invitation?" Jack murmured against Ianto's warm skin. Sure enough, the man bucked beneath him, groaning his name.

"Not when you do that," he managed to gasp out.

"Oh, I can do even better than that," said Jack, and proceeded to show him until Ianto begged him to stop.

"Bed," he murmured, even though his hands were fumbling with Jack's trousers. "Yours. Blankets. Pillows. Lube."

"Flavored?" murmured Jack, still kissing him.

"God, yes," said Ianto. "And candles and music and sex and more sex…" He trailed off, looking slightly surprised. "I am drunk."

"Going to talk dirty to me now?" asked Jack, and god, he wanted it. He might not be able to control himself for long if Ianto Jones talked dirty for him.

Ianto glanced down, clearly eyeing Jack's erection, then met his eyes before leaning up to whisper something deliciously filthy in Jack's ear, punctuating it with a lick, a suck, and a bite. Jack shivered and twitched and jumped up, pulling Ianto with him.

"Bed," he panted. "Now."

"Now," Ianto agreed, though they couldn't keep their hands off one another and literally stumbled toward Jack's office before Ianto once again stopped them.

"Bring the chocolate," he murmured against Jack's lips, then abruptly straightened with a sudden grin. "And the rest of the pudding from lunch."

Jack groaned and took Ianto for another long kiss. When he turned toward the kitchen, Ianto tugged on his hand.

"You should come over for Christmas," he said. Jack stopped in his tracks.

"What?" he asked.

"Come over Christmas," Ianto repeated slowly. "To mine. We can watch bad Christmas movies in front of the fire—"

"And drink wine with a plate of pasta?" asked Jack, trying to sound light when in reality his heart was thumping. It had been years since he had spent Christmas with anyone, let alone someone he liked, and he definitely liked Ianto Jones.

"Can you cook?" asked Ianto.

"Yes, and I'll bring wine," said Jack. He squeezed Ianto's hand. "But first, I've been ordered to get the chocolate and pudding."

"Right," said Ianto, nodding as if he had forgotten. "Chocolate and pudding. And towels. Bring towels."

Jack burst out laughing. "I have towels downstairs," he said. "But I love the way you think, Mr. Jones."

"And I love the way you…" Ianto glanced around as if someone might hear them, then leaned closer and whispered something almost shocking in Jack's ear. Tempted to shag him right there, Jack hobbled over to the kitchen, grabbed the required supplies plus the bottle of chocolate liquor, and hurried back to his office, where Ianto was halfway down the ladder.

"Oh, this could be interesting," he said, glancing up Jack's leg with a dirty little smirk that left no doubt as to what he was thinking.

"Bed," Jack reminded him. "Pillows. Blankets."

"Flavored lube."

"Candles and music."

"Pasta and wine," Ianto continued.

"That's for another night," Jack murmured, following him down.

"For Christmas," Ianto clarified.

"For Christmas," said Jack. "If you'll still have me when you wake up."

"If you still want to come by when you wake up," Ianto tossed back, before practically attacking Jack's shirt. Jack helped him along and quickly divested the other man of his shirt as well, letting his hands settle on Ianto's hips.

"I would really like to," said Jack, smiling against Ianto's mouth. "Thank you for asking."

"Thank you for accepting," murmured Ianto. "And thank you for the drinks, even if they were served in ugly mugs as a way to get into my pants on Christmas."

"It's not Christmas," said Jack, not following Ianto's reasoning. "And I'm not in your pants yet."

"And you don't think that sitting around watching bad Christmas movies in front of the fire with a bottle of wine and a plate of pasta is going to end up that way?"

"Point," said Jack.

"Now we're tied," said Ianto, wiggling his eyebrows. He stopped as another idea came to him. "Oh." He glanced around. "Where's my tie?"

"It's upstairs, so maybe later," laughed Jack, leaning in for another kiss. "I thought you had something else in mind."

"I do," said Ianto. "Let's see how this works." Ianto grabbed the bottle of liquor, took a deep sip, then leaned over and kissed Jack deeply. Jack groaned out loud at the taste of rich chocolate on his mouth, then did the same.

"If what works?" he asked when he was finished. Ianto picked up the pudding, tossed the lid on the nearby dresser, and dipped one slim finger into the sticky mess. Then he held it up, popped it into his mouth, and slowly sucked it clean. Jack almost came in his pants.

"There's quite a list," Ianto murmured.

"See, your lines are brilliant," Jack replied. He did the same with the pudding, completely taken by following Ianto's lead and utterly satisfied to see Ianto's eyes darken with lust at being followed.

"Trousers off," said Ianto. "Don't want to get anything on them."

"Just on me?" suggested Jack.

"If you want to go first," Ianto replied.

"It was your idea," said Jack. He stepped out of his trousers and then his pants before lying down in his bed, arms behind his head. "Candles?" he asked.

"Save them for Christmas," said Ianto, staring unabashedly at Jack's naked body spread out before him.

"More romantic?" asked Jack. Ianto stared at him, shook himself, and glanced away with a bittersweet grin.

"If we were the romantic type."

"What are we, then?" asked Jack. He wouldn't mind the romance, although he sensed they were treading in dangerous waters. It was a bit of a loaded question, but fortunately, Ianto rescued them.

"We…" Ianto began, then grinned. "We are about to get dirty."

The double meaning was clear.

Ianto slowly unzipped his trousers, effortlessly slipping them off but leaving his boxers on. He picked up the bowl of pudding and straddled Jack.

"You look like you could use this," he whispered, dipping his finger into the pudding once more. Jack gave in to Ianto's expert hands and warm lips. The pudding was a bonus; even better was the lazy, hot shower they took to clean up.

They fell asleep tangled together, the scent of chocolate and pudding filling the air around them. Jack idly wondered if Ianto had meant what he'd said about Christmas, or if he'd regret offering the invitation in the morning. Even as the effects of the hot chocolate and amazing sex wore off and sleep began to claim him, Jack hoped he was still welcome at Ianto's flat for Christmas. He couldn't imagine a better way to spend the holiday than with the man beside him. In front of the fire, with wine and pasta and bad Christmas movies.

Especially if it ended with pudding and chocolate.

Or maybe a tie.

Author's Notes:

If you are interested, I wrote twelve short holiday stories last year, called Winter Wonderwood. I thought about calling this Winter Wonderwood 2, but I really hate the name Winter Wonderwood. What was I thinking? I'm hoping that this second collection will have about six stories by Christmas. Updates every few days, and I hope you enjoy!