After the war and moving Vanya to the USA, Ianto joins NASA as an engineer. He’s offered the opportunity to fly on the Saturn V before the first men land on the moon. This is the story of his adventure and how Vanya handles becoming a NASA wife.
For you, @joasakura
This was supposed to be a drabble.
@joasakura, this is how it would happen on their first 4th, yes?
Vanya has been humming since he got up in the morning. Not tuneless enough to be annoying, but tuneless enough to not be recognizable. He decorates his frozen waffles at breakfast with whipped cream, blueberries, and strawberries, humming. He loads the dishwasher in the same way. Mows the lawn in the same way.
It’s not until lunch that Ianto perks up, actively listening to Vanya’s humming for a moment before saying, “that’s God Bless America. Is that what you’ve been singing all day?”
Vanya stops, a little surprised. Then he shrugs. “I think so?” His brow furrows then clears. “Yes, I think so.”
“Getting into the Fourth of July spirit, are you?” Ianto grins.
“I like the fireworks shows. Very cheery.”
“Did you want to go to the show downtown tomorrow? They have bands playing and everything. It’s pretty awesome.”
“Big crowds,” Vanya says, taking a large bite of his ham sandwich.
“Yeah, but it’s in the park.” Ianto shakes some potato chips onto his plate. “We can bring a blanket and make a picnic.”
“Or…” Vanya trails off.
Ianto sits back in his chair with an assessing look at the Russian. “Or?” he prompts.
There’s a long pause. Vanya stares at Ianto, eyes wide and guileless.
“I don’t have a permit to make fireworks,” Ianto reminds him. “Most of the ingredients would probably get me arrested.”
Vanya squirms. “I know. That’s why…” he trails off again and looks pained.
Ianto lets the silence go on for another minute and then says, “what, Ivan?”
Vanya leans as far over the table towards Ianto as he can. “Fireworks warehouse store,” he breathes reverently.
Ianto sighs. Of course. Several warehouses had popped up about a month ago in readiness for the upcoming holiday. It’s so dangerous for someone like Vanya. He’ll spend their entire savings for the month and fill the entire car with explosives.
But… despite Ianto’s misgivings about giving the Russian a lighter and free reign, Vanya would LOVE setting off fireworks. Just the idea of going to the store to buy them is making Vanya scowl almost as seriously as he’d done at Disney World.
Sometimes Ianto forgets that Vanya didn’t have much of a childhood. That the only person in the whole world who he feels safe asking for indulgence of, is Ianto.
There’s not really a choice.
“I’ll go get my wallet,” Ianto says, standing.
Vanya nods solemnly and also stands. “I will get my shoes.”
I figured that I could count on your for this!
PROS:
– Is completely, unerringly loyal. He will never even look at anyone else when he’s in a relationship.
– Is a fantastic cook. He doesn’t really tell anyone, but he adored home-ec in high school, and as a kid, hovered over his father to teach him how to make all of the traditional Japanese dishes. He also took cooking classes through college.
– He’s extremely indulgent. He always gives gifts, takes the vacations his partner wants, and will go out of his way to make his partner happy.
– He’s the best big spoon in the history of ever.
– When he falls in love, it’s for keeps. He has never been the one to dump a lover before.
– He’s easy-going. There’s not much he’s unwilling to do or try.
– His perfect smile will knock your fucking socks off.
– He is very good in bed. And very pliable to try almost anything once (see above about his easygoing personality.)
– He loves cats.
– He will gladly make you something for you to blow up just for funsies.
CONS:
– He’s pretty self-centered. He doesn’t have much in the way of empathy for anyone or anything that doesn’t affect him directly.
– He’s naive about how bad the world can actually be. He wasn’t sheltered, but he grew up in good neighborhoods and nothing truly awful has ever happened to him. He doesn’t fully appreciate how dangerous life can be, which leads him to taking unnecessary risks.
– He is petty. He goes tit-for-tat in an argument and sometimes just wants to “win.”
– He gives up on himself too easily. He’s used to being good at everything, and actively avoiding things he’s bad at. So, if he has to confront something he sucks at, it makes him upset and sometimes angry.
– He is meticulously clean and will lecture you about leaving your socks in the bathroom or a book in the wrong place.
– He snores a little.
– He doesn’t always know when he’s hurt his partner’s feelings, especially if he’s made them jealous for some reason. He’ll go on and on and on about someone he likes or admires until it’s horrible.
– He hates to apologize.
– If he doesn’t make the coffee, it will never be good enough for him, and he’ll say so.
joasakura
replied to your post “joasakura replied to your post:I’m beginning to suspect that my…”
“Does the memory foam really remember everything?” (He never says this to Ianto because he knows it sounds nuts but considering some of the things they do on that mattress, boy he hopes that’s just marketing.
For many years, Ianto wonders why Vanya sometimes acts weird and virginal when they’re having sex.
Singular? You’re asking me to pick just one?
How about, no.
But! I can give you the top 5:
1. He blushes super easy. I love me a badass who blushes at everything.
2. He shows his love of something by acting angry and awkward at it. When Ianto takes Vanya to Disney World, the Russian spends the entire time scowling about it, and Ianto goes, “I’ve never seen you this happy before. It’s amazing.”
3. He hates being violent. And he’s got an interesting mix of being proud and ashamed of how good he is at it.
4. When he trusts someone, he has absurd faith in them. He’s also loyal to the point of foolishness.
5. He’s the little spoon and he loves it.
I should also tag @joasakura in this since it’s her Shepard I’m bragging about here.
@joasakura is under the weather, so I made Ianto suffer with her. Have some Vanya doing his best to take care of Ianto while he’s got a cold. 😀
“Jesus Christ, I’m dying.”
“You aren’t dying, and Jesus was not the doctor. He can’t help.”
“I’m a doctor,” Ianto croaks. “But only the useless kind.”
Vanya rolls his eyes, perched on the edge of the bed and thrusting a cup of tea at the professor. “Sit up. Drink.” It’s the only thing he’s good at making, and he feels awfully guilty about that since he can’t do much else to help Ianto get well besides keeping the animals off the bed. Still, his tea is pretty kickass. And might make up for him scorching the pan a few minutes ago trying to heat up canned chicken noodle soup.
Ianto makes a huge production out of wiggling up out of the comforter to take the mug from the Russian. “Thank you.” His voice crackles and he coughs piteously, pressing a hand against his chest. “You should sleep in the guest room tonight. Don’t want you to catch this, too.”
Vanya stares at Ianto’s bloodshot eyes, half-hooded with cold medicine and fever. His horribly red nose. He wants to laugh even as his heart goes out to the guy. He’s a terrible sick person. “I won’t catch it. I never have been sick since childhood.”
Ianto sneezes five times before he can speak again, nearly sloshing some of the tea onto the bedspread. “You might. You don’t have to live in dumpsters anymore. Hurts the immune system when you’re not running for your life.”
Vanya chuckles. He should never have told Ianto that story about when he was first on the run and ate quite a few dinners outside the backs of swanky restaurants. “Please take medicine like a good doctor now,” he says.
Ianto moans and knocks his head against the stacked up pillows. “It’s just making me sleep forever. I hate it.”
“Big baby,” Vanya says. “I knew you will say that, so I drugged the tea.” He takes the empty mug primly.
“Asshole,” Ianto breathes, but he’s smiling, and then sneezing again.
Vanya leans forward and kisses his forehead. “But I am very good doctor.”
Everyone needs to know just how ridiculous @joasakura and I get about Ianto and Vanya. We were talking yesterday about what would happen if they met during WWII and came back to the USA during the Red Scare, and Ianto joined NASA.
We ended up with:
1) Werner Von Braun: unintentional homewrecker
2) Almost-divorce over tomatoes
3) All of Ianto’s shoes thrown over a power line
4) Vanya wondering why everyone is so interested in him being “a man who wears comfortable shoes.”
5) The absolute, unarguable, inevitable, irresponsible truth that Vanya and Ianto will always be together forever in any universe.
I fucking hate these two.
Tuesday, 4 September, 1945
Ianto will never understand why Vanya likes to hear him sing. He can’t carry a tune, and doesn’t know many songs these days that aren’t Sinatra. Vanya says it’s helping him learn English faster, but Ianto’s sort of under the impression that he likes embarrassing him.
Today is a warm, lazy Tuesday. It had taken nearly a year of letters and telegrams and yelling at people in the War Office for them to approve of his Honorable Discharge to include asylum for a scowling Russian with no papers and nothing but Ianto’s word that he deserved it for services rendered to the Allies during the war.
Now they’re at his childhood home, tucked away in the fields outside of Omaha, Nebraska. It’s quiet and they can see every star in the sky at night. Vanya’s still getting used to that.
He can see the Russian sunning himself in the acres of grass out the back window while Ianto washes the dishes from lunch and puts them in the rack to dry. The radio is on low, partially static out here in the middle of nowhere, but if the volume stays pretty low, it’s not as bothersome. He hopes they get an update on the war soon. It’s been weeks since the paper had even been delivered, and Ianto doesn’t go into town much except to buy groceries. He has trouble with the crowds and the noise. It makes his bones ache and heart pound. Vanya can’t help much since keeping a low profile is probably the only thing keeping the angry villagers with pitchforks away. The Russian doesn’t seemed bothered, though. Content enough to fix the long-abandoned family home up again and help with all the chores around the house.
Ianto’s still watching him out the window when a news report breaks in on the current song playing, freezing him in place. The announcer gives the special bulletin in a clipped, fast voice. The plate Ianto’s been holding slips from his fingers and clatters into the sink. He’s out the door and sprinting across the yard a second later.
Vanya hears him coming and props himself up on his elbows, squinting. After seeing the frantic expression on Ianto’s face, he jumps to his feet. “что случилось?” His hand spasms, reaching down for a gun he no longer wears in an aborted movement.
Ianto’s hands are on the Russian’s shoulders, dragging him forward to smash their mouths together. Vanya responds in kind, but confusion gets the better of him and he pushes Ianto back a little after taking his fill of those full, dry lips. “‘Yanto?”
Beaming, close to crying, closer to laughing, closest to screaming, Ianto says with a wavering voice, “it’s over. Last Sunday. We missed the first reports here, but I just heard on the radio… the war’s over.” He shakes the Russian’s shoulders. “It’s over, Vanya.”
The Russian looks stunned. Ianto stares at him. The late afternoon sunlight has nothing to get caught in before it reaches the ground out here on the farm, and he’s grateful for that as his eyes sweep over Vanya, red hair tinged with fiery gold in the coming twilight behind him. In that single moment as the Russian starts to react to the news, face softening and rusty smile tilting up the corner of his mouth, the happiness more obvious in the way the corners of his eyes crinkle, Ianto knows. He just knows.
“I love you,” he says. It’s the simplest thing in the world.
Vanya doesn’t answer because Ianto understands it in Russian now, thanks to all the times it’s been whispered against his temple in the middle of the night, followed by a kiss to his forehead when he thought Ianto was asleep. But it doesn’t matter that he won’t say it back out loud. He doesn’t have to. He already has. He’d saved Ianto’s life, trusted him, let himself be dragged to a country that doesn’t even want him, all for the sake of the feeling that he couldn’t put words to unless he thought Ianto was asleep. It didn’t matter. Not with the endless sunlight behind them and the fresh air cooling towards night.
A little something I wanted to do on my lunch break because I’ve been thinking about Vanya and Ianto a lot lately. For @joasakura, who I hope is having a wonderful day! 😀
“One day, I will find something you are bad at,“ Vanya muttered, laying his head back in the kitchen chair and shutting his eyes, but not before he caught Ianto’s broad grin.
The professor twirled the scissors in his hand with a flourish before putting them in his pocket. "Alas, today is not that day. Just relax. You’ll love this.”
Vanya was pretty ambivalent about that statement, to be honest. It was true when Ianto had convinced him to skinny dip in the ocean at midnight. Less true when he’d told him to try an Arnold Palmer. Completely false when they’d gone to one of his nerdy technical conventions. Sometimes he wished Ianto would just say what he really meant in these circumstances, which was I have no fucking clue how you’ll feel about this. Of course, it never occurred to Vanya to say no to any of it, since he’d very quickly learned that it was Ianto’s strange way of saying, I’ve never shared – or wanted to share – this with anyone but you. And whatever misgivings the Russian might have had, never amounted to anything because the request and love that went behind it were as warm and comfortable as a lazy summer day.
Which was pretty literal that day. It was hot as blazes outside, and they’d been out doing yardwork. Vanya had spent half the time swiping his sweat-soaked hair out of his face and off the back of his neck with increasingly creative Russian curses. That’s when Ianto had taken them inside and pulled out a very sharp pair of scissors with a glint in his green eyes.
But this experience, he admitted to himself a minute later, got entered in the you were right column. It had been two months since his last haircut after Ianto had forcibly removed the electric razor from the Russian’s hands with a look of horror that only someone with a pricey fancy haircut could manage. But going to a salon or barber shop was out of the question. Not because of the money, but because Vanya ended up with a tension headache for days trying to quell his instinct to not let strangers with sharp scissors or razors anywhere near his head.
However, Ianto’s hands were nothing short of blissful, and the professor was pulling out all the stops. He stood to the side of the chair, washing Vanya’s hair thoroughly in the sink with the detachable sprayer, massaging his scalp with the perfect amount of firm pressure, long fingers sifting through coarse strands of red. Vanya thought he could fall asleep like this. Then the scissors came out. The Russian tensed for a good minute, but allowed Ianto’s hand on the back of his neck to push his head down and start their work. He tried to remember that the professor’s hands were miraculous. They built bombs, threw deft punches, knitted scarves, stroked him to ecstasy, and never, never hurt him.
And now they were feather-light as they worked over his scalp, neck, forehead. Vanya felt himself relax at the sensations. It was almost erotic; there were echoes of how Ianto touched him when Vanya was pinned to the mattress, breathless and needy, and how he touched him now, gently and confidently. And as Ianto knelt down in front of him to check the evenness on both sides of his ears, Vanya’s eyes opened. He was treated to endless concentration in those green eyes, Ianto biting his bottom lip as he flicked his gaze from one ear to the other. His satisfied smile so close was like a quick jab to the chest, almost knocking the air out of Vanya’s lungs.
“Looks good,” Ianto said distractedly, putting the scissors down on the counter and ruffling up Vanya’s still-damp hair for a better assessment. He pulled the towel from around Vanya’s neck and then his fingers softly brushed away the stray cut hairs left on the Russian’s face.
There was so much innocence in the touching that Vanya couldn’t stand it anymore. His rough fingers closed around Ianto’s wrists and dragged him up into his lap. It was forceful, but nowhere that Ianto was unwilling to go.
“You also make everything sexy,” he said, squirming under Ianto’s weight and angling for a kiss.
Ianto acquiesced with a heated grin. “I always have an ulterior motive when I’m touching you.”
“Show me,” Vanya demanded.
“You bet I will, so just relax. You’ll love this.”
*sobs* I’m so sorry, Jo! I wish I could stay! Ianto and Vanya had so much more shit to blow up together.
but who’s going to pretend they’re not sniffing Mark Sheppard if you die????
Jo, that wouldn’t have been me anyway. What makes you think I was going to pretend to not sniff him? The second I got to the photo-op I was gonna flat out say, “forgive me, but can I please smell you, Mr. Sheppard? It’s the top of my bucket list.”
Jupiter Astrid James 