skidmo_fic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skidmo_fic) wrote2008-07-22 09:37 pm
skidmo_fic) wrote2008-07-22 09:37 pm
Cures for Homesickness (G)
Title: Cures for Homesickness
Rating: G
Pairing: Jack Harkness (1941)/Evan Lorne (crossover/RP![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
milliways_bar Torchwood/SGA)
Word Count: 141
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: There’s more than one way to cure homesickness
A/N: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
misslucyjane, prompt: Jack and Lorne (Milliways versions), eating pie.
“If ace shomay,” Lorne mumbles around his mouthful.
Jack laughs, eyes twinkling. “What was that, dearest?”
Lorne swallows. Hard. “I said,” he tries again, once his mouth is empty, “it tastes homemade.”
“It is.”
“How did you get homemade pie in the bar?”
Jack ducks his head, blushing and murmurs, “I made it.”
Confused/flattered/pleased. There should be a name for that look. If Lorne named it, he’d call it Jack.
“You made pie? For me? Why?”
“Because you were homesick,” Jack says, and there’s a hint of because I want you to be homesick for me when you’re away in his smile.
Lorne grins and takes another bite, and Jack leans over to brush some stray crumbs from his chin once he’s swallowed.
Lorne catches his hand first, then his chin, then his lips.
“I’m never homesick when I’m with you.”
fin
Rating: G
Pairing: Jack Harkness (1941)/Evan Lorne (crossover/RP
milliways_bar Torchwood/SGA)Word Count: 141
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: There’s more than one way to cure homesickness
A/N: For
misslucyjane, prompt: Jack and Lorne (Milliways versions), eating pie.“If ace shomay,” Lorne mumbles around his mouthful.
Jack laughs, eyes twinkling. “What was that, dearest?”
Lorne swallows. Hard. “I said,” he tries again, once his mouth is empty, “it tastes homemade.”
“It is.”
“How did you get homemade pie in the bar?”
Jack ducks his head, blushing and murmurs, “I made it.”
Confused/flattered/pleased. There should be a name for that look. If Lorne named it, he’d call it Jack.
“You made pie? For me? Why?”
“Because you were homesick,” Jack says, and there’s a hint of because I want you to be homesick for me when you’re away in his smile.
Lorne grins and takes another bite, and Jack leans over to brush some stray crumbs from his chin once he’s swallowed.
Lorne catches his hand first, then his chin, then his lips.
“I’m never homesick when I’m with you.”
fin