Thankful
"So I spoke to UNIT a little while ago," said Ianto, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the door to Jack's office. He was obviously bursting with news, even though he appeared as calm and as in control as ever. Jack knew the telltale signs, though: the small smile, the sparkle in his eyes, the pitch to his voice. Even his overly casual stance gave it away: Ianto had talked to UNIT, and he was itching to tell.
"And they didn't want to talk to me?" Jack pretended to be surprised, then pulled a hurt face. In reality, he was always glad to avoid a phone call with UNIT. Ianto inclined his head as he edged into the office.
"Seems they have a more professional contact here now," he replied. Jack leaned back and grinned.
"And that would be you, I assume?" This time Ianto bowed his head in mock thanks.
"Something about how that Harkness bloke has a mouth that's barely bigger than his head." He paused for effect. "Or vice versa, I can't remember."
"They haven't seen my—" started Jack, but Ianto cut him off.
"And that's probably another reason why they missed me. I don't talk about my genitalia as much as someone else in this room."
"Maybe you should," said Jack. "They are quite nice, after all—"
"Jack," said Ianto, in that tone of voice.
"Though I can understand why they missed you," Jack continued, ignoring that tone of voice because it was too much fun riling up the Welshman. "We missed you, too."
"I know what you missed," Ianto snorted. And punctuated it with an eye roll.
Jack stood and offered Ianto a sincere smile. "No, we missed you. Your wit, your organization, your coffee." This time Jack paused as he moved closer to the other man, letting his gaze rake over the other man. "Your suits."
"I didn't realize Owen liked my suits so much," Ianto replied, voice dry as a desert. He didn't move a muscle as Jack come close enough to place his hands on Ianto's hips.
"I did," said Jack. "I missed you, and I missed this." He demonstrated by leaning forward and kissing Ianto as thoroughly as possible. He was rather impressed with himself, to be honest, and almost thought it might go further right then and there, until Ianto pulled back, slightly breathless. It was a moment before he spoke.
"Don't you want to know why UNIT called?" he murmured. Jack narrowed his eyes and began to nuzzle at Ianto's neck, determined to distract the man.
"Not really," he whispered. "I know they're not interested in me or my—"
"Jack." Jack had Ianto's ear between his lips, though he wasn't sure whether he was being reprimanded or encouraged.
"I was hoping you were interested, though," he finished. Ianto froze. Jack stepped back. "What? What did I say?"
"That was the most ridiculous pick up line I've ever heard," Ianto replied, completely deadpan. Then he grinned and reached down to grab the prominent bulge in Jack's pants. "Although you seem to be able to back it up."
"Oh, I'll back up for you any day," said Jack, grinning. He was rewarded when Ianto groaned, though not in the way he usually preferred.
"Stop, before I'm forced to go home and leave you with your right hand for company," Ianto replied.
Jack reached down toward Ianto's trousers and raised an eyebrow. "I'll help you if you help me," he whispered in Ianto's ear. Ianto stretched his neck and sighed.
"That might be an offer I can't refuse," he replied. He straightened and claimed Jack's lips in another fierce kiss that left Jack breathless this time and groping at the man's shirt and tie.
"Downstairs," he gasped. "Downstairs now, talk later."
Ianto groaned his agreement as they left a trail of clothing all the way down the ladder.
"So what did UNIT call about?" Jack asked an hour later as they were lying in his bed, tangled together. They'd cleaned up and got their breath back, but Jack was reluctant to let Ianto go this time. Usually the other man returned to his own flat rather than spend the night, but after several nights of great sex now, Jack wanted the rest of the experience—falling asleep together, waking up in the morning together…a half-asleep, middle-of-the-night-quick-one together…
Maybe if he got Ianto talking, he'd forget about going home and fall asleep right where he was.
"Hmm?" asked Ianto.
"What were you so keen to tell me about UNIT?" Jack repeated, wrapping his arms around Ianto's waist in yet another attempt to keep Ianto snug and warm in bed with him.
"Oh." To Jack's surprise, Ianto turned to face him rather than squirm out of his embrace. "There was an incident in New York City."
Jack frowned. "I hope it wasn't serious. Why were they calling us about it?" He grinned. "Do we get to take a trip?"
"If New York is someplace you've always wanted to go," Ianto replied with a grimace. "Personally, I'd rather be called to Paris or Rome, maybe even Sydney or Cairo."
Jack filed the information away, that Ianto had a bit of wanderlust. "New York's not so bad," he replied. He had good memories of the city, as well as dark and painful ones. "So what happened?" he prompted.
"Apparently today was the annual parade, you know the big one for Thanksgiving?" Ianto replied.
"The Macy's parade, yeah," said Jack. "I've seen it, back when it was—" He stopped himself; it wouldn't do to let slip that he'd seen the parade a few years after the tradition started in 1924. "When it was a bit less grand," he finished, hoping that covered it.
Ianto gave him a funny look. "Of course you have," he murmured, then shook his head. "Well, then perhaps you'll appreciate this. Apparently the incident involved one of their large balloons and…well, an overzealous alien spacecraft."
"What?" Jack exclaimed, then choked on a laugh as he tried to picture it. Ianto grinned with him.
"That's what General Grafton said. The Snoopy balloon attracted the attention of a lost Zirras scout ship. It tried to make contact."
"You have got to be joking," said Jack, propping himself up on one elbow and staring down at Ianto. "How is that even possible? Zirras is light-years from here."
Ianto shrugged, thankfully ignoring Jack's comment about the alien planet. "I have no idea. I almost wondered if they were making it up. The general called to let us know that a Zirras fleet was in the system searching for the scout ship, and that the cover story in New York was that it was a drone filming for an independent film on American traditions."
"That's…" Jack shook his head. "That's ridiculous, even by Cardiff standards. Wow."
"I think he just really wanted to gossip with someone who understands the peculiar sort of unusual we deal with," Ianto added. "Because he couldn't stop laughing about it."
"Sometimes that's all you can do," Jack replied, chuckling to himself. "I can't wait to read the news reports tomorrow."
"I'll be sure to pull up all the stories," Ianto replied. "Maybe we can have a video viewing party at lunch."
"Sounds good to me," Jack laughed. He lay back down and wrapped his arms around Ianto once more. They were silent for a long moment, and once again Jack half-hoped that Ianto had fallen asleep.
"Jack?" Ianto asked quietly, as if wondering if Jack were still awake.
"Yeah?"
"Do you celebrate Thanksgiving?"
Jack frowned to himself, thoroughly confused. "What?"
Ianto didn't answer right away. "Well, you're obviously not celebrating it today, but have you in the past? With your family?"
What family? Jack wanted to ask. Instead he asked, "Why would I celebrate Thanksgiving? This is Wales!"
It was Ianto's turn to lean on his elbow and gaze down at Jack. "You're American, aren't you? Your accent sounds American, after all, and you said you'd been to the parade. So I was wondering if you celebrated Thanksgiving, and what it was like."
Jack was slightly speechless. He could certainly come up a story, spin a tale about Thanksgiving feasts with his family back in the States when he was a boy, long before he came to Cardiff. It would probably be the safer thing to do, yet he didn't want to lie. He couldn't tell Ianto the truth—at least, not all of it—but for the first time in a long time he didn't want to deny who he really was, where he was actually from. Not with this man.
He was silent for so long that Ianto finally offered a nod that expressed both sadness and understanding. "I know, you don't like to talk about your past. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He sat up and ran a hand through his hair before throwing his legs over the side of the bed. "I should head home."
Jack grabbed Ianto's hand before he stood. "Don't," he blurted. "Don't go."
"Why?" asked Ianto. "It's late, and I'll be back in…" He glanced at his watch. "Less than eight hours."
"Then stay," said Jack. "Spend the night with me."
Ianto frowned, shaking his head in surprise. "Why?" he asked again, and somehow Jack knew that Ianto wasn't looking for a simple answer. He took a deep breath.
"Because I've never celebrated Thanksgiving. I'm not American."
Ianto nodded, as if Jack had confirmed something he'd already known, or at least suspected. "I didn't really think so," he said softly. "Your files are even more questionable than mine."
"I knew it!" Jack grinned at Ianto's confusion. "You changed your records, didn't you? When you came here."
"Of course I did," said Ianto. "And for good reason. I'm sure you had yours as well." He stood and looked down at Jack, reached toward Jack's face but let his hand fall before he connected. "We all have our secrets."
"I'm not from Earth," Jack blurted as Ianto moved to get dressed, and watched Ianto freeze, blue eyes wide.
"What?" he whispered.
"I'm not from Earth," Jack repeated. "I'm from a small colony planet, from a place called the Boeshane Peninsula. I grew up there with my family."
Ianto's mouth worked wordlessly until he sat back down on the bed with a hard bounce. "Are you…are you human?" he asked.
"Of course I am," Jack laughed, trying to hide his nervousness. "Just as human as you."
"But you're from another planet," Ianto pointed out. "So either we're not as unique as we think we are, or…" He trailed off, waiting for Jack to finish.
"I'm from another time," Jack said softly, then met Ianto's eyes with a desperate plea. "And I can't tell you anything more without affecting the timeline. Please believe me."
"So you're from the future," Ianto said. Jack shook his head with a dry laugh.
"And you're too smart for your own good," he said. Ianto shrugged.
"I work for Torchwood. Making those kinds of assumptions is part of the job. So…was it the Rift?" he asked. He had reached out to lay a hand on Jack's knee, and Jack took it, holding it tightly, both taking and offering support.
"Something like that, yeah," he said. "I was stranded here, a long time ago."
"And you started working for Torchwood?" Ianto asked skeptically. Yet before Jack could open his mouth to try and answer without giving too much away, Ianto shook his head again. "No, it makes sense. It's probably the only way you could find a way home."
Jack looked down at their entwined hands, unable to answer. Ianto was exactly right, in some ways. He'd been coerced into joining Torchwood, yes, but for over a hundred years Jack had hoped to find the Doctor, learn what had happened to him, and working for Torchwood had seemed the best way to do that. He found he couldn't speak over the lump in his throat.
Ianto's other hand came to Jack's chin and tipped it up so that Jack met his eyes. "Thank you for telling me," he said softly, punctuating it with a soft kiss.
"So will you stay?" asked Jack, hoping Ianto didn't hear the slight break in his voice. Ianto glanced around the room, eyeing his discarded clothing. Jack squeezed his hand to bring his attention back. "I'd like it if you did," he said. His heart was beating faster, waiting on Ianto's answer. He wondered why it mattered so much, but pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind.
"I'll stay," Ianto answered. "But what about—"
Jack placed a hand on his lips. "Don't think about it. Just stay. We'll get some sleep, have breakfast together in the morning. Okay?"
Ianto moved the hand away and leaned in to kiss Jack. "Okay. But I was going to ask about the lights upstairs. We should put the Hub in nighttime mode."
"Of course you'd think of that," Jack laughed, then grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him once again.
"I am general support," Ianto murmured. "And I usually shut things down when I leave."
"Only you're not leaving," Jack murmured right back, then grinned against Ianto's lips. "You're mine all night."
Ianto nipped hard at Jack's lower lip. "That's quite a long time," he said, then without warning pushed Jack down to the bed, straddled him, and pulled his arms over his head. "Think you can handle it?" he whispered into Jack's ear, before trailing his tongue along the rim and down along Jack's jaw.
"Can you?" Jack tossed back.
Ianto kept one hand pinned against Jack's arms, then let the other roam down Jack's chest and toward his groin. Jack couldn't help but buck up against him. "Definitely."
The one simple word almost drove Jack over the edge. He literally growled at the man above him as Ianto leaned down for a long, deep kiss. He kept the dominant edge, which Jack found incredibly intoxicating.
"Thank you for trusting me," Ianto said softly as he pulled away. He let go of both Jack's arms, but Jack left them right where they were as Ianto moved both his hands down Jack's chest, over his hips, and along his thighs.
"Thank you for…" Jack groaned as Ianto's fingers found a particularly erotic spot. "…for believing in me. For staying."
Ianto paused, and they gazed at one another for a long moment, something else exchanged in the look, though neither seemed exactly sure what it was that had passed between them.
And then the moment was over as Ianto claimed him for another kiss, and they were lost in a wave of passion tinged with understanding and something more. Jack wondered about the wisdom of revealing one of his secrets to Ianto, but the man was right: Jack trusted Ianto. In return, Ianto had accepted and believed in him, and had agreed to stay the night. Jack was relieved, and grateful, and more than anything, he was happy.
And for the first time in a long time, Jack slept the entire night, thankful to have Ianto by his side.
Author's Notes:
Don't you love it when American authors try to throw American traditions into strictly British fandoms? I usually try to stay as British as I can, but after watching the Thanksgiving parade yesterday, cooking a ton, eating too much, and cleaning up the mess, I couldn't help but settle down on my laptop with this plot bunny. I wrote it last night, but really needed to edit it, so I hope you enjoy it even if it is a day late, or if you don't watch the parade and eat too much turkey every fourth Thursday of November. Time to get started on some holiday stories next!
PS. Thank you to the guest who pointed out that Ianto's voice isn't as dry as a dessert, but a desert. LOL!