Author's Note: This fic has been bumping around inside my brain for weeks. If you are not familiar with the duo of 2Cellos, do yourself a HUGE favor and check them out on youtube. Everything they do is amazing. The song featured in his chapter is their version of Welcome to the Jungle. Yes, the one by Guns N' Roses, played on 2 cellos. F'ing amazing stuff!
Sorry this chapter is short but I have been struggling with a wee bit of lack of focus, jumping between this and the original novel I have endeavored to start. But I knew that if I posted it it would push me to get the 2nd chapter up sooner. This should be just a 2-chapter deal. Next chapter should be a bit longer and more feel-sy.
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW
On this particular weevil-hunting expedition, the weevils took care of things themselves. With Jack and Ianto in pursuit through the forgotten bowels beneath an ancient theatre space in Cardiff, the weevils escaped into an open hatch that lead to the storm sewers. It had rained for the last three days straight. Weevils cannot swim. Sorted.
The theatre director was thrilled to learn that the "violent street people" who had taken up residence in their basement storage space had been moved along. The theatre director offered the two men a cuppa in her office. They accepted. The two men left when the theatre director was suddenly feeling unfathomably knackered and thought it best that she lie down for a bit on her sofa for a quick kip.
Jack and Ianto exited the backstage area and were walking up the side aisle of the theatre itself when two dark-haired me took the stage with cello cases. There was no one else in the space, it was just a rehearsal. Ianto stopped at the top of the stairs, put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. Jack paused beside him, questioning expression in place.
"I almost bought tickets to this performance you know. But we're lucky if we can keep dinner reservations this time of year, so never mind investing in concert tickets. It's a shame really. You would have liked them." Ianto replied to the unspoken question.
"Yeah, Weevil mating season is always crazy. Yan you know that I don't care much for stuffy classical music, but I would be happy to stick around and listen to rehearsal if you want to." Jack responded, resting one hand on Ianto's back.
Ianto's face brightened in surprise. Jack would do anything to earn that smile. Ianto nodded toward the back row and Jack followed.
The two cellists, clad casually in black t-shirts and jeans, took out their instruments. In his keen side-vision, Ianto caught Jack's curious expression when the musicians set up. Their instruments were an unconventional open design. They resembled an abstract black inked brushstroke idea of a cello hovering around a stringed bridge.
Jack leaned over a little and whispered "Those don't look like regular cellos."
Ianto smiled knowingly and responded "This isn't your usual 'stuffy classical music' either. Now shush, they are about to start."
One man lifted his bow, then the next. They traded some melody, then things escalated quickly. The young man on the right launched himself, full-bodied, into a frenzied pace, transforming into a blur of bow strokes and dancing fingers and a a mop of shiny brown hair swaying to the music. The other musician made his cello sing the melody. Even though Jack didn't know the song he could tell that the one cello's part was replacing what would have been sung. He envisioned, quite accurately actually, that it would have been an undulating, long-haired rocker made of 50% sex and 50% raw talent mixed with a generous shot of booze-or-something-like-it and a dash of f-you for good measure. But these two young men took it to a whole other level.
Jack felt his heart beat quickening and a rush of adrenaline that was usually more likely to accompany drawing his gun or pinning his suited lover against the wall than simply watching a concert. Jack could swear he could smell the resin from their bows from the back row of an empty darkened theatre.
He leaned forward in his seat, aware of how the sound of the cellos rumbled through his chest and tickled the fine hairs on the surface of his skin. Jack immediately realized, with a fantastic flush, that it was the same effect as having Ianto laid bare underneath him. It's that time when pinstripes and great coats and pressed shirts and "sirs" are cast aside. All restraint is gone and all that is left is heat and shared air and the sounds that escape from Ianto's usually-controlled velvet baritone are deep and primal and yet still just barely resemble Jack's name.
Tearing his eyes away from the stage, Jack stole a glance at the handsome clever man that predicted he would like this particular brand of cello concert. Ianto wore a furtive smile. HIs light-blue eyes darted excitedly back and forth between the two men on stage. Jack went to extend an eager hand down to rest on Ianto's thigh when he stopped, suddenly noticing the subtle twitches of the younger man's hands. One lean, pale hand, with thumb and forefinger together, was jerking slightly side to side by the wrist, the motion timed perfectly of the one musician's bow. When Jack looked to his other hand, the fingers tapped out intricate patterns on the arm rest. Jack quickly glanced back and forth between Ianto's hands and the action on stage. Although he didn't catch every single note, he was pretty damn close. Jack chuckled quietly to himself at discovering yet another one of the hidden talents of Mr. Jones. With this young Welshman, Jack would never cease to be amazed.
While Jack was lost in revelry the song crescendoed then came to an end. The musicians were not the only ones left short of breath after the rigorous piece of music.
Jack did now stroke Ianto's thigh playfully as he leaned in and whispered "You never told me you played."
"Not for a long time, and nothing like these two. But I know enough about it to appreciate it that much more."
Ianto's hand covered Jack's now, which had been creeping up his thigh.
"Jack, what are you doing?"
"I was just wondering if this place has a coat room so maybe we could make some of our own music Mr. Jones."
"Hhmmmmm...tempting, but one more song first, yeah? I told you you would like them."
Jack gave the incredibly soft strip of skin between Ianto's sideburn and his ear a quick kiss and hummed something that sounded like agreement. He chuckled as Ianto, with an eye roll and smirk, removed Jack's hand from his thigh (which seemed to have been slowly migrating north again as if it had a mind of its own) and kept it held in his atop the arm rest between them.
TWTWTTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW
Thanks for reading! I LOVE to get alerts about reviews! Let me know what you think about this scene and what you think about 2Cellos. I hope to post the conclusion within 2 days or so.
