Christmas Carol
Summary: Jack comes home for Christmas...
A/N- This is because I haven't updated other fics in ages due to writers block and a busy life, I wanted something lovely and cute, hope you enjoy...
It's Christmas Eve when the Tardis flickers into being onto the ice covered floor of the plass, the snow has just started to fall, gentle white flecks swirling towards the ground where it settles comfortably. The doors open silently and the Doctor steps out into the cold night air, his hands slip into his pockets as he drinks in the memory of the place, Jack steps out into the snow and breathes in the familiar air, he's been away for too long. He sees the ghost's of Christmas' past spread out before him, engrained in the very fibre of the city, atoms caught in time.
"Home sweet home," The Doctor smiles and watches his friend head off into the night, a few seconds later and the Tardis fades into the darkness as though it had never been there.
XxxxXxxxX
The Hub's dark when the cog door rolls back, the office light and the twinkling Christmas lights are the only ones left on, the soft humming from the computers and other machine's the only sound. His smile brightens because he's never felt more at home than when he's here, he slowly makes his way up the stairs to his office, wondering who it is that's stayed so late on Christmas Eve, Gwen would have gone home to Rhys long ago, Owen would be out drinking, Ianto or Tosh would be the only ones to stay in the silence of the hub rather than follow the masses in their celebration of Christmas. He opens the door quietly, the young man sat at the desk doesn't even notice as he slips into the room. Busily scribbling reports and glancing over accounts.
There's a mug on the desk, untouched and undoubtedly stone cold, there's a snowman on it, a festive treat left by one of the others no doubt. He closes the door with a gentle click and blue eyes glance up and fix on him.
"You shouldn't be here," the captain all but whispers, Ianto gives a wistful smile and releases his grip on the papers he had been working on for hours now.
"You're back then," The elder's not sure if he's just making conversation or if there are bitter undertones to it, he never knows with Ianto, the younger always keeps him guessing.
"Yeah, it's Christmas Eve you know," Ianto nods, offers a smile and glances down at the papers on the desk, "why aren't you at home Ianto?" The younger doesn't look at him to offer the explanation,
"Work to be done Sir, can't wait," Jack leans against the desk, gently guides Ianto's face so that they're looking at one another,
"The world won't fall apart Ianto; you can breathe once in a while," the cold skin of Jack's hand against the warm flesh of Ianto's face causes goosebumps to dance across the younger's skin. They're so close that Jack swears he can hear Ianto's heart beating in his chest, Jack's lips ghost against his own and Ianto tries to stop his eyes from fluttering closed.
"You'll leave again... you always do..." and Jack understands the younger's reservations, understands that one day he'll be yet another ghost of Christmas past, an imprint on the city's energy, caught in the life stream. He honestly can't bear the thought of a Christmas without him,
"I come back, back home, back to you," and Jack knows the thought that crosses the younger's mind, the 'why' the fleeting idea of the universe vs. Ianto Jones, Jack's seen the universe and he wants all the Ianto Jones that he can get, every little minute, every subtle innuendo, every wistful smile, every witty comment, every heartbreaking story, all the secret touches and the heated kisses, the frustration and the shimmering blue eyes. He's wants every inch of doubt, all that self belief, he wants the weakness and the overpowering strength, Ianto is so much more than he will ever know himself to be.
He kisses him then, just a gentle brush and he wants to give Ianto Jones the world, he wants to rip him away from Torchwood and its cold deathlike grip, he wants to wrap him in cotton wool and keep him safe. He tried, God didn't he try so hard to keep himself from falling this way again, but there wasn't enough self will or iron clad chains in the world to keep him from falling for Ianto Jones, and though he hadn't said it, though he wasn't sure he ever would, it was there.
"Come on," Jack whispers against the younger's lips, "there's no way you're spending Christmas Eve here, no way. Pack up; I'll grab your coat," Ianto thinks about arguing but he doesn't he simply nods and begins to file the papers into their original place. When he descends the steps Jack's stood there with the younger's coat, he helps him slip into it, and ushers him onto the lift, he kisses him quickly and then presses the button on his wrist strap that activates the lift which slowly begins to ascend.
The snow's like a blizzard when the lift finally reaches ground level, the plass sheer untouched white, Ianto fixes his coat against the cold as the wind whips at him, Jack grabs his hand leading him out into the snow,
"When was the last time you had snow on Christmas day Ianto?" the younger shrugs, he can remember perfectly well, the screaming from the kitchen, the slap that burned his cheek until new years, the slam of the door, the crying. Jack caresses the phantom wound without even realising the thoughts tumbling through the younger's mind. "Leave the ghosts in the past," the elder whispers against his ear, embracing him tightly,
"Is that what will happen to me Jack? Will I just be a phantom you've left buried in the snow?" and there's no hesitation in the answer,
"Never," he grips the younger's hands, blue eyes shimmering with what Ianto thinks could be tears, he knows it's not probable, that Jack will go on for millions of years clinging to some scrap of a memory of him, how can he contend with all the wonders the universe has to offer, he doesn't voice the concerns, he doesn't talk much, that's just how he is. "Ianto Jones," Jack smiles as the name rolls off his tongue, "I've never known someone as amazing as you, someone as strong and caring, as loving, Ianto Jones I idolise you, every single inch of you and I can't believe you don't have any idea how brilliant you really are."
Ianto's not entirely sure what to say to that, he's not sure if Jack's telling him this because he thinks it's what the younger wants to hear or because it's really how he feels, he never knows with Jack. Jack's always hot one minute and cold the next, Jack's every contradiction, everything that terrifies him and everything that makes him feel alive. He doesn't have a chance to say anything before the Captain's lips are on his, its forceful, heated, almost desperate Ianto thinks. Jack's hands are in his hair and for a minute he forgets everything he hates about the elder, all the things he does that make Ianto feel like nothing, all the other people, the eternity of Jack's life, the nothing he is as a result, it all slips away. He kisses back and clings to his Captain, clings to this moment out in the snow, thinks he'll cling to it until the day he dies.
The elder pulls away, stares into pale blue eyes and grips Ianto's arms tight enough to bruise because even though he's never said it, the thing he's the most scared of is losing the man in front of him; it's also the one thing he can't do anything about. He kisses him again, a quick brush of lips before his hands slip away and he turns his attention to stare out at the bay. Caught in a world of his own, in the belief that he won't forget Ianto, that this enigmatic man he's fallen in love with will never become a ghost of Christmas past, it's something cold hitting the back of his neck that breaks his silent reverie, the snow trickling down his back, he turns to see Ianto holding a snowball in a gloved hand.
"You should leave your ghosts in the past Jack," he smiles, all life and warmth, the second snowball hits him in the chest before he can think to say anything else. Blue meets blue for a heartbeat before the younger slips his hands into his pockets and starts walking away, Jack stays still for a moment before trailing after. He catches up with the younger, hand resting in the small of his back,
"Where to?" he asks, voice melodic, rich and creamy like melted chocolate, Ianto merely shrugs,
"I thought you were the one with the plan" Jack smiles and grabs hold of Ianto's hand, lacing their fingers together, "In that case; I know just the place," The winding streets of Cardiff blur together as they twist and turn their way through the snowy pavements, the lights of the city fade as they walk through housing estates, back alleys, houses shimmer with bright twinkling lights, Ianto can see the lies behind them, blinded by each flicker. Jacks grip tightens around his own and he thinks he can feel the warmth of Christmas nipping at his bones; he tries to shake it off.
They walk for a while, until the snow laces their clothes, then they stop and Ianto almost crashes into Jack's back, almost but doesn't, Ianto always tries to keep a little distance between them, a little more than necessary. He glances up to see why they've stopped, a house stands before them, dark and cold, empty, Ianto thinks it could do with a little tender loving care, a woman's touch, a few twinkling lights to match the rest of the street. There is stands though, bleak as the snow, Ianto notices that no windows are smashed, no one camping out who shouldn't be and he thinks maybe it's loved more than he first perceived, the window sills aren't peeling, newly varnished, the glass of the windows is clean, it's got timeless charm and doesn't seem to have aged too badly.
He vaguely registers the tugging on his hand, that Jack's drawing him across the snow covered path to the door of the house, and he knows then that it's Jack's, he wonders how many houses, apartments Jack might own scattered across the city, the country, the world, how many people have gone before him? How many lovers, how many marriages, how many have followed Jack here, which number is he? The door opens with a creek, Ianto glances at the hinges, tired and worn, they creek as it closes too and Jack pushes him against it, a passionate warming kiss, wandering hands. A fire crackles from the living room, Jack smiles at the look in the younger's eyes. There' a tree, there's blankets, a couch tucked away in the corner, Jack draws him into the small room.
"You... you... lived here?" Ianto asks, Jack stares at the walls with a smile, longing, familiarity, adoration, he watches as the emotions flicker in the other male's eyes.
"Yeah, I kept thinking about bringing you here, dinner maybe a film, just never seemed to fit," He smiles and steps closer to the younger, kisses him tenderly, slips the wet coat from his shoulders, it pools round his feet, gentle hands run through his hair, cup his face. Ianto remembers when Christmas was cold, dark, filled with dread and the fear of the unknown, when it was arguments and tears, running away and hiding in the snow, cold and broken. Ianto remembers cruel words and crueller fists, he remembers trying to be so strong, he remembers that it's in the past and it's time to let go.
Christmas now is surprise, its cheeky smiles and warm lips, it's comforting words and an accent to die for, its snow and it's still cold but it's warm arms to fall into afterwards, it's a fire crackling in the distance. Its Jack Harkness pure and simple and Ianto wouldn't want it any other way, soaking clothes fall silently to the wooden floor, the two men tumble to the ground before the fire seconds later, cold skin heats up quickly, they move like ghosts, quick and silent, their movements are fast paced and desperate, all their concerns, all the worries that niggle at them with every heartbeat seem to melt away. Ianto's not thinking about the next time Jack disappears or all of the things he doesn't know about the other man and Jack's not thinking about Ianto's mortality, it's just the two of them, the here and now, everything else fades to black around them and they just want it to be this way forever.
It's hushed gasps and shadows, it's desperate heated need at its purest, they're lost in each other, in kisses and flesh and when they tire, when the fire dies down until the embers are all that burn in the fireplace, when Ianto's eyes flutter closed Jack pulls the blanket over them and continues to stare at the younger male, mapping every inch of him and committing it to memory, he holds him close, tight, buries his face into the crook where Ianto's neck meets his shoulder and just breathes in the scent of the younger man. He places a tender kiss at the base of Ianto's neck, feels the younger stir slightly, he doesn't wake, slips back into sleep with ease, Jack places a tender kiss to the younger's temple before wrapping him up and slipping away into the darkness.
XxxxXxxxX
When Ianto stirs in the morning, the sun not even yet staining the horizon he realises that he's not in his apartment, the events of the night before unravel in his sleep hazed mind and he comes to realise that Jack Harkness has disappeared from his side. That sinking feeling boils in his stomach, the one born from doubt in Jack's ability to speak a word of truth. His hand knocks something from the pillow beside his own he grips the small colourful box in his hands, a note stuck to the top in a familiar sketchy scrawl, Ianto had always likened it to a spider dying across a piece of paper, he knew it well saw it day after day, almost undecipherable. It read simply 'Ianto, from Jack,' he wasn't sure if he'd expected anything grander, the bow fell away easily, a simple tug and it succumbed to his wishes, the paper proved a little trickier, Jack obviously didn't know how much tape was too much.
The box beneath the paper is simple, plain black with white writing, when he removes the lid he can't keep the smile from gracing his lips, a beautiful watch hidden beneath layers of tissue paper and he remembers when they'd gone weevil hunting before Jack had left and his old watch had been broken. It had been a gift from his mother years ago and it broke his heart to see it shatter under the force of the weevils grip, he hadn't thought Jack had noticed but he must have and he bit his lip to stop the trembling.
He removed it from the box, inspecting the item, the engraving on the back catching his eye; he runs his thumb over the imprinted words, stares at them as if the meaning eludes him, his heart crashes in his chest, Jack watches the younger from the doorway, watches the emotions flutter across his face. There are some things that Jack will never say to Ianto, that's just the way he is, but he doesn't have a problem with writing them down once in a while. It's at that moment that blue eyes meet blue and the look that crosses the younger's face confuses Jack somewhat. He moves across to where Ianto's still sat beside the fireplace, sits beside him and takes the watch into his own hands, slipping it onto the younger's arm and closing the catch.
"Perfect fit," Jack smiles and laces his fingers through Ianto's own,
"How did you know?" Jack smiles softly, wistfully,
"You looked like a kicked puppy when you came back from that mission, you kept looking at your wrist after that but nothing was there except the few scratches left by the glass. I know you Ianto, maybe not all the little details like your mother's maiden name or the age of your second cousin twice removed but I know you, I know the little curve to your lip that means you find something funny when you shouldn't, I know sadness in your eyes before it reaches your heart and I know how to make you smile." Ianto not sure what to say to that, he doesn't talk much it's just who he is and he definitely doesn't have the words to contend with that speech.
"I uh, well, that's good to know," he says and cringes as the words fall from his tongue, Jack just smirks to himself and kisses the younger man before standing and passing him a clean suit,
"Come on, we have dinner plans," Ianto raises an eyebrow at the elder male,
"We do?" Jack just nods and smirks, he points upstairs as he directs the younger to the shower.
XxxxXxxxX
As the water pounds into his skin, washing away sweat and time Ianto thinks about Christmas about Jack and how he appears every time Ianto's about to fall too far, Jack fixes him, but Jack breaks him more times than can be made up for. What Ianto feels for Jack is more than he's ever felt for anyone else and that's what keeps drawing him back time and time again even when all logic tells him to run. This Christmas with Jack has been the best he's ever had and though he knows Jack will leave again and his heart will shatter with betrayal he knows that the pieces that catch in his lungs will have enough trust to force some kind of hope.
For now as the snow starts up again outside, as they head out to dinner Ianto Jones is content to live in the moment and let all the familiar worries slip away.
Oooh fluffiest fic I've ever written I think, hope you enjoyed and will forgive me for not updating my other fics in forever, a merry Christmas to everyone and a happy new year,
Also I thought I'd leave the message unknown, make it personal, create your own, I know what I think it is but what about you?
xx