There's something about the stability of coffee that Ianto Jones likes. It's brewed precisely at eight in the morning, every morning, and as long he's the one making it, every cup comes out perfectly. Every latte with the right balance of espresso and milk, and every iced drink- a rare choice for the Torchwood members, but there are those days- is always cold enough to please, but not cold enough to hurt. It's become a ritual for him, and he can expect, no matter how stressful or adrenaline filled the day is, that a good cup of coffee will help anything.
Ianto knows some people would think that's a bit strange- after all, a cup of coffee can't change what's happened or tell someone how sorry you are-, but there's no reason for him not to believe it. Coffee has helped him before. Before Torchwood, offering someone a cup of coffee cut off a conversation that he would rather not have- when his mother was pestering him again about setting him up with a neighbor or when his sister started asking him to call more-. Now, coffee has become a constant lifeline. After what happened with Lisa- when everyone started looking at him differently, or rather not looking at all-, he made himself a macchiato with just a pinch of cocoa and everything felt just a bit like it was before. Suddenly, he was just the tea boy again, making coffee for everyone. Of course, it's not just for himself. Right after John Hart tried to basically murder off the team, he made Jack an Americano. There were so many things he wanted to say- "It's alright", "You left me", "I'm sorry"-, but Ianto never could say exactly what he felt. So, he made Jack his usual coffee and hoped that that would at least convey that it wasn't Jack's fault that he had a murderously jealous ex.
Ianto has started to realize that he's not the only one in Jack's bed. Of course, he's always known that he and Jack were never properly in a relationship- it was only a couple dates and a lot of shagging-, and he knew that Jack wasn't the monogamous type under most circumstances. But Ianto hadn't realized it until now that Jack sometimes has a different smell on him. Some days, it's a sharp aftershave, nothing like the fifty-first century pheromones that he usually smells of. Others, it's a light, musky perfume that couldn't possibly be from Tosh or Gwen accidentally falling on him-as if that would ever happen-. The minute he noticed it, though, he made himself his usual, if only to calm his nerves. But his heart didn't stop racing, his hands didn't stop shaking, and his stomach still felt like it was trying to claw itself out.
Every day since then, he's tried something new every day to see if the coffee would help. It always did before, he reasons, maybe I just need a change. Not a big enough change to notice but enough to feel different. Nothing helps. Today, he tries Jack's Americano. It's not that he's ever liked it- in fact, it's the one coffee Ianto hates because of the caffeine crash afterwards-, but the fact is that it's the last resort. Ianto doesn't want to think about the other reason- It's Jack's- because he doesn't want to depend on Jack. He really doesn't. He knows that depending on Jack for anything but being alive or shagging will only lead to heartache. But why can't his heart understand his head, for once in his life?
At the end of the day though, the coffee helps because it's everything that Jack isn't. It's routine and calm and Ianto knows it will never hurt him. One day, he knows the coffee will stop working. But for now, he takes comfort in the stability of coffee.