Wrong Again
It had been some while since Ianto had tracked Jack's comms to 100 feet above Cardiff in the middle of the night. He'd rather got the impression that Jack didn't need that so much now that had Ianto to talk to about the things that weighed impossibly on his shoulders.
When he emerged from the archives after his third revision of his report on the "space whale" incident, the Hub was empty. He'd been hoping that once Tosh and Owen left, he and Jack could talk. It had been clear to Ianto that the whole thing had rattled Jack from the beginning of the investigation. He wasn't sure whether it was more the suffering of the latest Rift victim or the fact that Gwen's fiancé was involved, or that either situation could be ranked over the other on the scale of 'Things That Upset Jack'.
Jack's response to Gwen's fit of selfishness didn't entirely surprise him, but he knew Tosh and Owen were livid. Likely as much because Jack had said nothing about Gwen's tone and uncalled for insult to the rest of the team's personal lives. Ianto hadn't felt up to addressing it at the moment, but had decided that he would be having a word with her at the earliest opportunity and recommending that she apologize to Owen and Tosh.
He didn't feel the need for an apology himself because he had the satisfaction of knowing exactly how wrong Gwen was, but he was angry on Jack's behalf. Gwen's childishness was bad enough, but her disregard for Jack's feelings (you bet he'd opened his comms the second he was out of the meeting room, keeping an ear peeled while there was a non-Torchwood civilian inside the Hub! Gwen's snide remark on Jack's lack of compassion had been nearly enough to make Ianto turn back and read her the riot act.)
Ianto did his best to put Gwen out of his mind for the time being. Jack needed him, wherever he was. Ianto typed in Jack's ID into the tracker and a blinking blue dot showed up not far away, directly up on top of the Millennium Centre. Ianto fetched his coat and took the invisible lift up, then applied his Torchwood acumen for the nefarious purposes of gaining access to the rooftop. It wasn't remotely a challenge armed with advanced tech like an alarm disabler and lock opener.
The vacuum of wind that high up made it a bit of a challenge to open the access door to the roof, something Torchwood tech couldn't do much to help… yet. Jack stood there at the furthest point possible, looking imposing and confident, in-control, coat billowing like a caped crusader. Ianto knew the little signs, though. Jack's hands stuffed in his pockets. His shoulders just a bit slumped. So many times Ianto had seen Jack standing at the edge of a roof like that and wondered if he wasn't watching over the city, but trying to work up the nerve to jump. Temporary as any 'respite' would be for Jack.
Ianto took a step forward and saw how Jack's shoulders straightened, stiffened. Ianto didn't go any further. Jack bowed his head and took a long breath. After a moment he turned, looking tired, gloomy, and contrite. He didn't look up.
"I'm sorry, Ianto. I was wrong. Again."
What Jack needed was immediately clear to Ianto, but getting to him to that point wouldn't be so simple. Ianto walked over to Jack and wrapped him in his arms. "Come on, Captain. Let's go home where we can talk, yeah? I'm freezing up here in this wind."
Jack nodded silently against Ianto's shoulder and followed compliantly.
All the way back to the pavement, to Ianto's car, and on the drive home, Jack said nothing. His uncharacteristic muteness was distinctly guilt-ridden as opposed to the sulking or scowling spells Jack occasionally indulged in. Ianto gave him his space, using the time to think of how he could possibly approach this in a way that would work for Jack but not be awkward for him.
Jack still hadn't said anything by the time Ianto closed his apartment door behind them. He took off his coat and draped it on Ianto's coat rack, taking an extra few seconds before turning to Ianto again. He barely met Ianto's eyes. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Ianto stepped close and pressed a finger to Jack's lips.
"Not just yet. Come on, sit."
Again, Jack nodded and complied. Ianto sat beside him on the couch and put a hand on Jack's knee. "Listen, Jack. First off, it's going to be alright. Second, what happened in that warehouse was not your fault." Jack lowered his head sadly at that and it seemed to Ianto that while that loss hurt Jack deeply, he at least accepted that he didn't cause the outcome – though Ianto wasn't convinced that Jack didn't still feel to blame for the whale's death. "And as for the rest… well, that's something we can work on."
Jack nodded, his head still bowed.
Ianto moved a little closer and put his hand on Jack's arm. "Can you tell me what you need?" he asked softly.
Jack swallowed a couple times and took a couple short breaths. "I need you to punish me. Please, sir."
Ianto's hand stroked up from Jack's arm, over his shoulder, and up his neck to lift Jack's chin and cup his cheek. Ianto leaned in and softly kissed Jack. "Alright. Go into the bedroom and get undressed. Then sit and wait for me."
"Yes, sir," Jack whispered.
Creating a little space would allow them both to prepare, Ianto moreso than Jack. He did not consider himself a natural dominant and was sure he'd never manage that sort of thing full-time, but he did find that the times Jack needed to submit, he was rather instinctively able to provide that domination – with more than a little assistance from some thorough research into the matter, naturally.
Once Ianto felt fully ready, he went to the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Jack sat still on his side of the bed, undressed as told, with his clothes neatly folded on the bedroom chair. Ianto took off his jacket and sat beside Jack again, rubbing Jack's back soothingly. "It is going to be alright, Jack," he repeated.
Jack nodded briefly.
"Ok, then. You ready?"
Jack nodded again.
"Good. Go into the closet and bring me what you need tonight."
Jack got up and went to the box in Ianto's closet that contained an ever-growing collection of toys and implements. He selected one immediately and returned to hand Ianto the red leather paddle.
Ianto took it and set it beside him. "Right. Over my knees."
"Yes, sir," Jack said, and situated himself in place as ordered.
Ianto stroked Jack's back for a while, knowing it helped him relax and focus. "Safe word?" he checked.
"Hedgehog," Jack responded.
"Alright. How many and how hard?"
"50, very hard, please," Jack requested.
Ianto closed his eyes and briefly considered negotiating. Deep down, all he wanted to do was hold Jack and convince him, some way, that the state of the galaxy-at-large was not his own personal fault. Jack had asked, though, and even if Ianto didn't think he deserved it and didn't always really understand Jack's need for this, he did acknowledge that need and was unwilling to see Jack go somewhere else to fulfill it.
"Ok," Ianto said, and stroked Jack's hair. Ianto picked up the paddle and let Jack kiss it the way he liked to before a punishment, then he rested it for a moment on Jack's bottom. "You'll count them for me, nice and loud. If you need to safeword, that comes before any counting, and that includes color code, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good," Ianto said, resting one hand on Jack's back while he drew the other back and gave Jack what he sought. Ianto felt the tension increasing throughout Jack's body, his muscles tightening, stiffening, and jumping with each strike. He felt Jack anticipating the next hit and instinctively tensing. Ianto delivered the next few hits a little harder and quicker than he'd intended, realizing as he did so that he wanted to push through this part as much as Jack did. Jack had an incredible pain tolerance but that didn't stop him bracing against each slap of the paddle.
By the twenty-second hit, Ianto was beginning to question his staying power. Jack was holding so much back, the only sound he made being the counts and the occasional barely-heard grunt when a sting caught a particularly sensitive spot. Then on the twenty-seventh strike, Jack suddenly let out a strangled half-gasp, half-sob. He panted, trying to rein it back in as he forced out the words, "Twenty-seven. Thank you, sir," but he was already taking a shuddering breath in the second before the next hit fell. All at once, the tears rushed up and there was no stopping Jack's outpouring.
Ianto sat the paddle down for a moment. "Are you alright?" he asked seriously.
Jack nodded, his face buried in the duvet.
"I need to hear it, Jack," Ianto reminded.
Jack let out another short sob. "Yes. I'm ok, sir. Green, sir," he breathed.
"Alright," Ianto assented, picking up the paddle again. This was what Jack had been begging for, this release.
The remaining half of Jack's paddling was accomplished relatively quickly, with Jack sobbing freely but not jumping half as much at the hits. As soon as Jack counted "fifty", Ianto dropped the paddle and started gently stroking Jack's back again.
"You took that so well," Ianto murmured. "You're so very good." It wasn't quite what he wanted to say, but he knew it would help Jack to hear.
Jack was still trembling and sobbing quietly.
"Alright, it's alright. Come on, lie down," Ianto encouraged, moving to get Jack settled in bed before getting in beside him and wrapping his arms tightly around Jack like he'd wanted to all night. Jack held onto Ianto like an anchor in a tempest.
"Please forgive me," Jack whispered shakily.
"Of course I forgive you," Ianto murmured.
"I'm sorry I'm always so wrong, Ianto."
"You are not wrong, Jack. The world is wrong, not you."
Jack was quiet for a long while then, just holding on to Ianto. Exhaustion began overtaking Jack and Ianto could feel him relaxing in his arms. Just before Jack slipped into sleep, he mumbled, "Thank you, Ianto. You fix me."
Ianto only wished he could.