Warning: Rated M for adult themes, trigger warning for abuse.

This story is already complete, I just have to finish editing it. It's about 39k words. I'll try to post a chapter every day, but I don't know how many chapters there will be, as I've not separated them yet. I will post the whole thing in a timely manner. Thanks for reading!

Okay, that conversation had not gone how he'd expected. First of all, he had no idea some of his clients were this bothered with him. 'Who does this bloody American think he is, coming here with his arrogance and smugness that he dares call charm, trying to take over, thinking he can tell uswhat's best for our National Sites. I don't want any dealings with him any more,' one of the clients had said, and apparently there were a few others who had the same opinions, just presented with different words.

Second, and worst, of all, he would not expect his boss to think that this would be a good solution. Apparently he thought this would make him fit in better, help the clients see him as one of their own, and therefore accept him. He'd always hated studying, and now he had to go back to school. To learn Welsh. So ridiculous. So useless. Such a waste of time. But the 'Boss' had made it quite clear that Jack was to do exactly that, or they might have to reconsider his moving here, which would mean moving back home, something he really didn't want to consider. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Jack had moved to Cardiff from Illinois a year before. His company needed an agent to deal with the clients, to oversee the renovation work (he was responsible for recuperating heritage sites, which would obviously make the clients more annoyed that it was being handled by a non-native), and he seemed like the right guy for the job. So much so, that the company was willing to help him with the whole process of moving, helping with expenses, offering him a house, and all the support he might need. Considering that at that point he wasn't particularly pleased with his life back home (a huge understatement, in fact), a move overseas felt like just what he needed. Which made the conversation he'd just had with his boss all the more unexpected (and worrisome).

After brooding about it a whole night, over a few too many pints and shots of whisky, he finally accepted that there was nothing he could do, and he'd better get a move on, so he could get it over with as soon as possible. At least the company was going to pay for the lessons (for the first few months at least, but the offer could be withdrawn at any time if he didn't show any improvement), and they'd suggested a private tutor, which would most likely help him learn faster. So the next morning he asked his assistant to find him private Welsh tutors in Cardiff, and give him a list of names and as much information on them as she could gather.

When he came back from lunch, his assistant told him she had sent a list to him, with the links for the ones who had websites. Jack sat in his office, thinking, with a very deep sigh, that there was no point in postponing it. So he started looking at the list. The third one he saw caught his attention. He was not the only one to put a picture of himself on the website, but he was the only one to actually make an impression with said picture. He was wearing an impeccable suit, the face of professionalism, inspiring confidence and trust. Of course, that would be what Jack would say to anyone who asked why he'd chosen him. The real reason would be kept to himself. 'Hm, he's cute.' he thought, looking at the picture of the tutor on his website. 'Good qualifications, impressive reviews, and his looks might actually make this whole fiasco quite enjoyable.' He decided not to bother his assistant, and made the call himself. Just because he thought it'd be easier, not because he wanted to hear the man's voice or anything. Five minutes later he was hanging up the phone, with an appointment for the next Saturday, and the lilt of beautiful Welsh vowels still flowing in his ears. 'Quite enjoyable indeed.'

xXxXx

Saturday morning found Jack actually tidying his house, so he could receive his tutor, and hopefully make a good impression. It was almost ten, and he'd be there any moment. He could hardly wait. 'Oh, this is going to be good.'

'Hi, you must be Ianto Jones."

"Yep. Jack Harkness, I presume?"

"That's me." He said, offering his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You, too." Ianto took the offered hand, and stood by the door. After a short while, Jack moved sideways.

"Please come in." Jack gestured towards the living room. "I cleaned up this table for us. Will that work?"

"Yes, it's perfect."

"Please, take a seat." Jack said while sitting. "So, how does this work?"

"As far as I understood, you've never studied Welsh before, is that correct?"

"Yeah, I only know the few odd words."

"Okay, then we'll start from the basics. Simple conversation, useful words, basic grammar. When you get comfortable with that, we'll move on to more complicated things."

"Great, sounds good."

Ianto started rummaging through his bag, and produced a thin stack of papers. He put them in front of Jack, and started explaining what they were. Jack would love to know what he was saying, but he couldn't, because he'd already gotten lost, distracted by Ianto's delicate features, his rosy lips, sharp cheekbones, pale skin, delicious accent. All Jack could think about was what it would be like to kiss those lips, feel that skin, smell that hair. And then he realised that Ianto had stopped speaking and was staring at him. He snapped out of his trance and finally looked down at the papers in front of him. He noticed they were filled with simple phrases and dialogues, a few translated into English, others not. He tried to catch up, but he really had no idea what Ianto wanted him to do, so he looked up and just stared back. Ianto sighed (although to his credit he tried to hide it), and started explaining everything again. 'God, he must think I'm an idiot.' Jack tried to pay extra attention this time. It wouldn't do if the tutor gave up on him on the very first class.

He quickly realised that Welsh was a very complicated language, with way too many consonants (well, at least he thought they were all consonants. Turns out there were actually a few extra vowels), and structures that didn't make any sense. Or maybe he just wasn't trying hard enough. So he tried to pay extra, extra attention. Ianto was very patient, he had to give him that. If Jack didn't understand something, he had no problem repeating it as many times as necessary. He was very stoic, too, and almost overly polite. Jack was torn between being put off by that, or even more interested, wondering what it would take to break his contrived exterior. And that thought distracted him again, and he was brought out of his reverie by Ianto clearing his throat.

"Sorry, it's just a lot to take in at once."

"No problem, it's normal to be a little overwhelmed when you've just started. Take it slow, you'll get there."

"I have no problem taking it slow, if that's what you want me to do." Jack said leaning forward, leering at Ianto, voice full of innuendo. Ianto blushed slightly and sat even straighter in his chair, if that was possible. He coughed, and tried to bring Jack's attention back to the papers. Jack looked back down, grinning. He'd have a lot of fun with this, trying to figure out a way to make the younger man yield to his advances. He'd always liked a challenge. It took another cough from Ianto to remind Jack that that wasn't the primary reason for him being there. To be honest, Jack was actually surprised with how easy it was to flirt again. He hadn't behaved like this in a while, and he was quite intrigued to realise that Ianto made him forget, if only for a moment, why he'd stopped in the first place.

The rest of the lesson went okay, Jack thought. Of course he couldn't help derailing the focus of the lesson every now and then with his exuberant tales, trying to impress Ianto. Jack couldn't tell if it was working or not, because the other man wouldn't show any reaction whatsoever. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. By the end of the lesson, Jack had gotten quite frustrated, noticing how hard it would be to accomplish what his boss expected of him. Ianto was very understanding of that, telling Jack that it was normal to get overwhelmed at first, but he would get the hang of it eventually. He followed by saying that Jack had potential, and he could see him learning what he needed in no time. Which made Jack feel pretty good about himself. All in all, when the lesson ended, Jack was satisfied. Every thing seemed to have run smoothly, and he felt hopeful. About his progress, but most of all, of getting into Ianto's good graces. It seemed like Jack had made a good first impression – the other man certainly had – and Jack was looking forward to the next Saturday.

xXxXx

"God, Tosh, he's insufferable!" Ianto moaned. He'd gone to Tosh's right after the lesson, for their usual Saturday lunch.

"Oh, come on, Ianto, it can't have been that bad." Tosh tried soothing him.

"No, it wasn't. It was worse. A lot worse." He finished downing his beer, and reached for another. He was practically fuming.

"What was so bad about him?"

"He's just so arrogant. Thinks he's better than everybody else. Always acting so smug, as if he's out there to save the world, expecting people to worship him, as if he's the only one who knows what's best for everyone." He blurted out. "But apparently he can't see that he's thick as a brick. He had the worst difficulties in grasping even the most simple concepts, almost as if he was trying my patience on purpose. I think that was one of the few times when my speech of 'you have potential and things will get better eventually' felt like an outright lie."

"Wow, Ianto, tell me what you really think." Tosh replied sarcastically.

He didn't even hear her. "And the flirting! My god, the flirting. Every second sentence had to carry some sort of innuendo, and he kept flashing that grin of his, thinking that he could charm his way out of everything. As if making me fall for his charms would make him learn any faster. Or at all, for that matter."

"Well, you can always stop teaching him..."

"No, Tosh, I can't." He flopped down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands, sighing deeply. "It's a company contract, which means I get paid double what I usually charge. And I'm already behind on the rent. I really need the money. Not only I can't quit, I have to be extremely nice to him to make sure he doesn't quit."

"Oh, honey. I'm sorry it's so bad." Tosh sat beside him, sliding her arm around his shoulders, hugging him tight. "At least you'll always have me afterwards to vent. And we can drown all the frustration with a few beers and a couple of films." She gave him a comforting smile.

"Thanks, Tosh. That's a consolation." He smiled weakly. "I just wish I could have that without having to pay penance for two hours before coming here."