Summary: what usual nights in with your boyfriend, Jack Harkness, are like.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Since Jack doesn't have a place of his own, expect for the Hub itself, crashing at your apartment has become normal. Not that you mind, the company of your boyfriend is better than the quietness of your flat.
Every other night, you wake up to the sound of the sound of someone breaking into your apartment. But as soon as you hear the shout of "Honey, I'm home!" from Jack you lower the gun you hide under your pillow. And then all the other nights, you're both tumbling into your flat, laughing at something stupid one of you did on the mission you were just set on.
If you're lucky Jack will bring back a bottle of wine to share, he'll say something like "ah, 1923, great year, well not for me..." then go down a rambling tangent about his past in early history.
You have no idea how Jack manages to forget that mortal humans get absolutely shit faced off alcohol every time you both share a bottle of something. He'll only remember when he's laughing at one of his jokes and notices that you haven't joined in on the giggling, then he looks to his side and find you slumped agaisnt his shoulder, glass nearly slipping out of your grasp, face nuzzled into his military coat. He'll either pick you up bridal style and carry you to be, or lay you both down onto the sofa to cuddle. It's nice while it lasts, because as soon as you wake up, you have a pounding headache and it takes you ten minutes to figure out where you are. Meanwhile, your knight in shiny armour has no signs of a hangover thanks to his immortality voodoo. But hey atleast he gives you the morning off.
