A/N: So I sat down during my break the other day and wrote... and wrote, and was almost late for World Regional Geography. Normally when I write I get about two pages at most, so this is a big thing for me! Hopefully I'll be able to keep it up.
Spoilers for most of season 1 and S2E1- Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. Blink and you'll miss it spoilers for S2E5- Adam, and CoE: Days 2 and 5.
Sorry Ianto is so weak and uke! I like my TW with extra angst and conflict, but whenever I write it like that Ianto typically ends up like this... I have a CoE fixit brewing that should make up for it though! Ianto is a total BAMF in it. Yup.
ConCrit would be awesome. I feel like I need more dialogue or something. Just feels like I'm missing some element. Anyway, enjoy!
The neon blue glow of the digital clock seemed, in Ianto's opinion, to be mocking him. He had woken some time ago in his small flat, equal parts surprise and relief flooding through him when he realized that it had been a dream. There were no Cybermen trying to kill him, he wasn't surrounded by flames and corpses; just a nightmare. Only it wasn't really a nightmare. It had happened, and some small part of him still felt shock and horror that such a thing could happen.
He was used to the nightmares by now. They had become a routine part of his life. Go to bed, wake up, check the closet for Cybermen (he knew it was silly, but it always made him feel better), make some coffee, and then flip through late night infomercials until either he fell asleep on his couch, or it was time to get ready for another day at Torchwood.
Always another day at Torchwood. He wasn't sure what kept him coming back sometimes. Most of the bad things in his life were the fault of Torchwood. Maybe he was just unlucky. Or maybe he had bad karma? Had he been a mass-murderer in a past life? A hysterical little laugh bubbled forth when he realized he had been seriously contemplating that reasoning. For some reason he felt like it was possible, even though he had no belief in other lives.
It was late. He really should be trying to get back to sleep, even if it was only on the couch. He glanced at the digital clock again, 1:58. It had only been seven minutes since he had last looked, but it felt like it had been at least an hour. Thinking definitely wasn't helping matters. It typically didn't when he was at all distressed. He just thought himself in circles. The circle he had been wearing into his mind the last few nights was no less prominent now.
Jack.
Where was he? Was he coming back? Did he care? Was Ianto really just a part-time shag to him?
Ianto was growing to hate Owen and all of his insidious comments. The medic just wouldn't let him be. Every time he came out of Jack's office (no one else ventured there much since the man's disappearance) Owen would be ready with a snide little comment that always managed to sting, no matter how many times Ianto told himself to ignore it.
Jack's office had become something of a refuge to him in the last few weeks. They had all been working over-time to keep up with the rift. It was harder without Jack. Gwen was doing a wonderful job leading them, but it just wasn't the same, and everyone knew it. Ianto would disappear up to Jack's office when he needed a rest from it all. The first few times it had been purely because he missed Jack rather desperately. The office still smelled like him, still had all his things in it. Ianto even took pains to insure that there was a fresh cup of coffee every day, even when he began to doubt Jack's return himself. After a while though, his despair began to wane, and he started coming up to the office because he was flat out exhausted and needed a rest.
He didn't have nightmares there. He didn't have nightmares when he was with Jack. God he hoped the man would be back soon.
Another glance at the clock. In an odd reverse of what had happened the last few times he looked at it, more time had passed than it seemed. 3:42. He could start getting ready in a couple more hours. And wasn't that just sad? Looking forward to the mundane tasks of getting ready for work. But then, when you worked for Torchwood, the mundane was a bit more difficult to come by.
Ianto tried to remember the last time he had done anything domestic. It had been a while, if you didn't count making coffee. He supposed… Jack had stayed at his flat. It was a rare occurrence. Typically Ianto ended up staying at the Hub. Jack had wanted to take him out that night, but there had been a weevil sighting and they had to go and catch it. It hadn't been a problem, and after unloading the creature into the holding cells Ianto had been ready to call it a day. Jack of course had been of a decidedly more devious mindset. They somehow reached the decision that going back to Ianto's was the best plan. Ianto was fairly certain he had made some comment about Jack's utilitarian quarters being too small (not that it had ever been a real problem in the past, though Ianto's muscles did protest that in the mornings after). The car ride was short; Ianto had made a point of getting a flat that wasn't far from the hub. As soon as the two men were through the door clothing began coming off.
Ianto's suit jacket was tossed carelessly on the floor, quickly joined by Jack's greatcoat as he shrugged it off. Ianto pushed the man's braces down as Jack worked at unbuttoning his vest. They were very good at undressing each other and by the time they stepped into the bedroom both were naked and pressed tightly against one another.
Jack grinned wolfishly as he pushed Ianto down onto the bed, and Ianto couldn't help laughing, earlier tiredness forgotten in the wake of passion.
He fumbled in the bedside table for lube, his search made all the more difficult as Jack licked and bit around his collar bone. He let out a low groan of pleasure as Jack moved lower to do the same to his nipples. After what seemed an eternity of grasping and blindly searching his hand closed around the little bottle he had been looking for and he tossed it to Jack.
The man let it lay unattended as he continued ravishing his lover. He absolutely loved the sounds Ianto made, and always endeavored to elicit the loudest noise he could from the younger man.
As much as Ianto was enjoying himself, and god was he ever enjoying himself, he rather wanted to get to the main event. It had been a while since he and Jack had had time for a proper shag.
Ianto groaned and arched up against jack as the other man stroked his cock. "Jack," he gasped, "Not that I'm not enjoying this but, mmmhhhh- i want-" he was cut off as jack kisssed him deeply.
When they broke apart Jack sat back and grabbed the lube, popping the top off as he admired the beautiful Welshman laid out beneath him. He made short work of preparing the younger man and when he had Ianto inarticulate and moaning with four fingers inside him, he pulled back. Ianto made a rather pitiful whine and Jack couldn't help but laugh a bit as he rubbed a generous amount of slick onto his cock.
Ianto glared at him in mock annoyance and then all rational thought fled his mind as Jack pushed in. Ianto grabbed a double fistful of sheets and let his head fall back as Jack slid in. He spread his legs a bit more, and lifted his hips slightly.
Jack groaned as his cock was enveloped in tight heat. When he was all the way in he stilled for a moment, enjoying the sensation, until Ianto let out a plaintive moaned and bucked his hips. Jack grinned and began to move. It didn't take them long to work up a quick rhythm, and Jack soon had Ianto crying out with every downward thrust.
Ianto was gasping for breath as Jack continued to move in him. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, not with Jack moving against his prostate like he was. Ianto shuddered as his pleasure built. No, he definitely wouldn't last much longer.
Jack was feeling quite the same, and with a few more thrusts both men were shouting the other's name. Jack collapsed next to Ianto, pulling out reluctantly. It felt so good to be indie the other man.
Ianto let out a satisfied sigh as Jack lay down next to him, and laid his head on the immortal's chest as he cuddled up next to him. Jack smiled and ran a hand through Ianto's hair as he wrapped an arm around his lover. He felt quite content.
Ianto felt himself drifting off to sleep, the steady sound of Jack's heartbeat soothing him into a peaceful lull. As his eyes drifted shut, he pressed closer to Jack. He hoped the man would still be there when morning came.
Ianto wasn't sure he had ever woken up quite so happy. He smiled to himself as he snuggled closer to Jack and the warmth he was providing. It was the first time the man had stayed the night. They had had sex at Ianto's before, but Jack always left at some point, normally while Ianto was asleep, to go back to the Hub. Ianto let out a contented sigh, he would be happy to spend the entire day laying there with Jack. After a few minutes though Ianto's stomach let out a loud grumble. He was rather hungry. He supposed he would get the chance for a lazy day some other time, or at least he hoped so.
Very carefully, so as not to wake Jack, Ianto squirmed out of the bed and pulled on a pair of pajama pants. He wondered what Jack would want for breakfast. It was rare that they ever ate breakfast at the Hub, and even then it was normally either donuts or cold leftovers from whatever take-away they had had the day before.
After a bit of thought and some rifling through his fridge Ianto decided on eggs and bacon. It was easy enough and he wouldn't have to dirty more than one pan to make it. As the frying pan heated up Ianto began making coffee.
The bacon cooked quickly and Ianto put it aside on a plate so he could start on the eggs. The coffee was done by this point and the whole flat smelled deliciously of bacon and Ianto's special blend of aromatic coffee. The scent was what got Jack up.
At first he was a bit confused by Ianto's absence from the bed, but after the scent registered he figured the man was up and making breakfast. It smelled sinfully good. Jack got up and, not bothering with pants, snuck quietly into the kitchen. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of Ianto, half-dressed and making breakfast for them. He came up behind the man and wrapped his arms around Ianto's waist. "Hello gorgeous," he said with a grin. "Any of this food for me by-chance?" he asked giving Ianto a quick kiss.
Ianto laughed. Why couldn't every morning be like this?
Ianto jumped slightly, startled from his memories by the sound of the alarm clock. 6:00. He sighed deeply, and let the memory go, getting up to take a shower. He slipped his pajama bottoms off and stepped into the pleasant warm spray of water, a sigh of contentment this time emanating from his lips. He had had sex with Jack in a shower once. It had been fantastic.
For some reason Ianto found himself crying quietly. He lied to himself at first as he washed his hair. He wasn't crying. The water was just in his eyes.
Another thought of Jack, lounging at his desk like a king (if kings also whined about UNIT reports). He had brought Jack coffee as he did every morning, and somehow been roped into helping with the bi-monthly report. As he leaned over Jack's shoulder pointing out things that needed correcting (also some rather crude doodles that would need to be erased), Jack had pulled him around into his lap and kissed him. It had seemed spur of the moment at first, and most likely was, but soon both men were kissing quite passionately. Ianto tried to convey all of the things he knew he would never say to Jack as they kissed. 'I love you,' he thought, hoping that in some way Jack would hear and reciprocate. But he knew better than to say such a thing aloud. That would change everything. And if he was being honest with himself Ianto wasn't sure if Jack was capable of the kind of love that he wanted. Certainly Jack loved his team, and Ianto knew that what Jack felt about him was different from that, but he also knew that wasn't the kind of love he was hoping for. Something grand and life altering. When you had lived that long, would continue living for the foreseeable future, was it possible to have that kind of love? Ianto wasn't sure he wanted an answer to that question. As long as there was no answer he could still hope in silence.
As they pulled away, both out of breath, Jack grinned. "What a way to start the morning!" he said laughing, "Maybe we can put off the UNIT report a bit longer?" he asked hopefully, giving Ianto a meaningful squeeze.
Ianto had laughed and pulled the report back over. Jack groaned. "Spoil sport," he grumbled good-naturedly, kissing Ianto lightly.
Ianto couldn't ignore it now. At some point he had started crying in earnest, and now he found he couldn't stop. He slid down the slick shower side, and pulled his knees toward himself, feeling marginally better now that he was smaller and in the corner.
He stayed like that for some time, thoughts of Jack running rapidly through his mind, and doing nothing to ease the pain he was feeling so acutely.
Finally he managed to calm himself somewhat. He got out of the shower, tears still falling, though less frequently now. He dried off and got ready for another day of Torchwood. What else could he do?
Even with the extra time he spent in the shower Ianto still arrived at the Hub before anyone else. He began making coffee in preparation for his teammate's arrival, but first he made a cup for Jack. It was silly, and he knew it wouldn't do anything to bring him back from wherever he was, but it made Ianto feel a bit better about the whole thing. He hoped Owen never noticed.
He finished adding whipped topping to Tosh's coffee just as the cog door rolled open. Gwen and Tosh made their way in chatting animatedly about something. Shopping, Ianto was fairly certain. Gwen was wearing a new jacket.
He smiled with false brightness as they came over, and handed them their coffee.
"Thanks Ianto!" Gwen said cheerily, making her way over to her desk.
Tosh smiled slightly and thanked him as well, before going to her station to check the program she had been working on lately.
It all seemed frighteningly… normal. Ianto realized that the sense of wrongness he was feeling, was because nothing seemed wrong. How could they act like nothing was different? Granted it had been a few weeks since Jack had disappeared on them, but still. On reflection though, wasn't he doing the same thing? Acting like nothing was wrong? He had always been good at acting though. When he'd been hiding Lisa in the basement. During the aftermath of Canary Warf when he'd said, with perfect sincerity, that he was alright. Even back when he was a kid and had told the nice woman from Social Services that, no, their Tad was always good to them. Ianto Jones was an expert at hiding himself in plain sight. He wondered silently if Gwen and Tosh were pretending as well, or if they really felt that everything was fine.
Ianto had to work hard to keep a hysterical laugh contained at that, and that was most likely a bad sign, laughing at oneself is never a good indicator. The idea that Torchwood had a 'normal' was absurd though. Ianto bit the side of his cheek. He knew if started laughing he wouldn't be able to stop until it turned into sobs, and maybe not even then. Definitely a bad sign.
Luckily Owen stepped through the rolling door, and provided a welcome distraction. Ianto busied himself with quickly finishing the man's coffee, as the medic said his hello's to the ladies, completely dismissing Ianto as he headed down to the autopsy bay.
Ianto hadn't really expected anything else. He and Owen hadn't ever really gotten along, and ever since he had shot the man they had been even more tense around each other than usual. It didn't help that Owen seemed to go out of his way to criticize and belittle Ianto, no matter how civil the other man tried to be.
With a deep breath, and some strengthening of resolve, Ianto picked up the mug and walked down into the autopsy bay. Owen ignored him at first, and Ianto couldn't tell if he was truly engrossed in his work or if he was just being an ass as per usual. Finally the smell of coffee seemed to get to the man and he turned from his work to regard Ianto as if he was even more distasteful than the dismembered alien corpse on the table.
"Finally," he grumbled, snatching the proffered cup.
Ianto dismissed the medic's rudeness. It was far preferred to anything else he could have said.
As Ianto made his way to Jack's office (for once purely with the intent of working. UNIT reports to write and forge Jack's signature on.) he heard Owen mutter something that sounded decidedly unpleasant. He really should continue ignoring the man, he told himself, but it was barely 8:00 and already he was having a trying day. Annoyance won out in the end. If Owen was going to ridicule him he could damn well do it to his face.
Turning stiffly back to the medic Ianto raised an eyebrow and did his best to appear as calm and unaffected as possible. "Sorry Owen, didn't quite catch that," he said archly.
Owen looked up from the alien's chest cavity (not really a chest cavity at all if you went by the contents) to glare at Ianto. Then with a smirk straightened and hissed "I said, he's not coming back, and even if he did it wouldn't be for you Teaboy. Maybe if the world was ending, but not for you."
Owen came around the autopsy table to face Ianto. Even though he was shorter he could tell the other man was intimidated. Good. He was finally getting to say everything he'd been wanting to say to Ianto, and it felt good. Sure he'd made off-hand comments before, but he'd never just let go and said it all. Truth be told he was a bit scared of what Tosh would have to say. She could be scary protective at times. Owen chalked that up to the incident with the cannibals.
"What are you anyway Ianto? Just a butler that thinks he's better than the rest of us because the boss is shagging him. Never should have let you start coming on field missions. Anyone that didn't know better might think you were supposed to be there. You aren't Ianto. You're just a fancy archivist that got promoted up because you give good head. At least that's what I'm assuming. I mean what else could you have done that would get in Jack's good graces so soon after you turned traitor on us? Must be one hell of a good shag," he laughed cynically to himself as he turned back to the corpse, having said his bit, and so didn't see it coming when Ianto punched him.
It was far too early, and Ianto was already far too rattled, to be dealing with this. It was bad enough hearing Owen's voice in his head when he sat up in his flat thinking himself into knots, but hearing it all coming straight from the man's mouth was too much. It had either been punch him, or breakdown in tears for fear that everything the medic said was true. Ianto had opted for the choice that would give Owen less ammo in the future. Plus it had felt damn good.
Of course all the other feelings were still there. The fear and insecurity that maybe Owen was right, maybe the only reason he still had a job at Torchwood and wasn't retcon'd was because Jack had thought he was a good shag. But that couldn't be true.
He played back memories in his head, of good times he and Jack had had with no sex involved. True such occurrences were somewhat rare, but with Jack being, well, Jack, what else was to be expected? It helped a bit. He knew there was something else there, but it wasn't nearly as reassuring as he had been hoping.
Owen had recovered from the hit and was prowling forward like a Weevil on the hunt. Ianto backed away slightly, unsure what the other man planned to do, but too caught up in his thoughts to make a proper plan.
His thoughts kept going back and forth. Maybe Owen was right, but then he was certain there was something more between Jack and himself. The little ribbon of doubt continued to thread itself through his mind, and by the time Owen hit him back it had tangled itself thoroughly in the skein of his thoughts.
Ianto retreated from the autopsy bay rubbing his jaw lightly. Owen had a good hit when he put his mind to it.
The medic glared at Ianto's retreating form. Well good. Hopefully he wouldn't have to deal with the Welsh bastard for the rest of the day. Though… Who would make his coffee?
So, should I continue? I have a general idea of where to take this if I do. It will get a good bit more angsty though. What do you fine people think?
Also, I feel like the sex is crap. I didn't put as much effort into it as I feel I should have. I just sort of got to a point where I was like, "You know, I just don't care anymore. I'll just bang something out and hope it doesn't completely suck." There were points where I considered just writing "Hurble-durble-durble, sex!" and being done with it. -_-
R&R, yes?