A/N: This is my first attempt at fan fiction, so please bear that in mind. This story is basically a smut filled one-shot, but also deals with Ianto struggling with self-harm, which is why I listed it as slightly AU. It's not my intention to shame or disrespect anyone who deals with issues like this, as I have my self, which is where some of my inspiration comes from. Please review, even if it's a critique, since the only way for me to get better is for people to be honest! Hope you enjoy!
Again, you've been warned.
Note: The point of view may change as the story progresses, but for now it's 3rd person with 1st person thoughts in italics.
"Oh, god Jack, Jack!"
Ianto was lying in his bed, naked with and handful of cum and sticky sheets. He lay there panting after just coming down from a wonderful orgasm. In private, in the dark, he could fantasize freely although the shame and the guilt over the feelings that he had were enough to bring him back to reality fairly quickly.
"Fuck Ianto, what are you doing? Wanking while thinking about a bloke? What is wrong with you?" he muttered out loud to himself. He quickly got out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower. As he stood there in the hot water he let the tears flow freely down his cheeks, while feeling disgusted and ashamed. He couldn't understand why he thought about this man so much, and even worse, why most of those thought involved removing pieces of clothing from him and imagining what he looked like naked. Or what it would feel like to run his fingers over that chiselled torso. Would it be hard or soft? Speaking of hard or soft….well speaking of hard….
"Shit!" he exclaimed and turned off the water. He grabbed a towel and went into his living room. He poured himself a shot of Jack (pun fully intended) and downed it fast. He still couldn't seem to shut his mind off, the images and feelings still racing in his mind. He sat down of the sofa, contemplating. He knew what would help stop it, but he hated himself for doing it. He felt like a stupid teenage girl when he did it. Grown men should be able to deal, not resort to this. He reached over to a side table and opened the drawer on it. He pulled out a blackened, bent fork and a lighter. He lit the lighter, and held the fork over it for several seconds. Then, he quickly proceeded to hold the fork over the skin of his bicep, and pressed down.
Ianto cried out in pain and quickly removed the fork before it stuck to his skin. He looked down to see four red lines standing out against his pale skin, amongst dozens of identical scars, since this wasn't the first time. Feeling temporary, but not quite full relief, he repeated the process. After twelve of these lines had made their way onto his skin, he quickly got dressed-jeans and a sweater, nothing fancy and went out for a walk. He walked until he was exhausted, went home and collapsed on his bed in sleep. These breakdowns of his were becoming more and more common, and he was running out of ways to cope.
"Ianto where's my coffee?" shouted Jack. "What are you doing down there"?
Ianto snapped out of his daydream and quickly finished making Jack's coffee. He hurried up the stairs and into Jack's office. "Sorry sir" he replied, "the machine didn't wanted to cooperate today".
"Uh-huh" muttered Jack. He knew Ianto was lying. Ianto never had problems with the coffee machine. Or problems with anything actually. Ianto always seemed so calm and composed, never getting flustered. So why now? Come to think of it, Jack had noticed some odd changes in Ianto over the past few months. While he still did he job wonderfully, he always seemed exhausted and even more closed off than normal. He also noticed that Ianto wouldn't stand close to him, almost as if he was shying away and even avoiding him. Jack was determined to get to the bottom of things. It was fine for his employees to have secrets, so long as he knew about them.
"Hey Ianto, what would you say to getting a drink after work?"
"I'd say what's the occasion sir? And who all is coming?"
"Just us. I have some things to discuss and you look like you could use a night out" said Jack.
"Fine sir. Where should I meet you?"
They agreed on a place and time and Ianto left Jack's office. He proceeded to the restroom and locked himself in a stall. He sat down on the toilet seat and tried to calm his breathing and the choked sobs breaking through. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small chuck of leather. He pulled out the razor blade that was concealed within it. He pulled up his leg and slid the leg of his trousers up, exposing the skin of his calf. God, the boss looked great today. Cut. And he smelled so good. Cut. I wonder what he looks like with his shirt off. Cut. Maybe after drinks we can go back to my place. Cut.
Ianto looked down and realized some blood was trailing down towards his sock. Not wanting to make a mess, and more importantly not wanting to get caught, he quickly removed his shoe and sock and tied it around the bleeding skin. He had extras in his desk, and ruining one was better than staining his trousers and having Owen or Jack notice the blood. That would raise too many questions he just wasn't ready for. He sat there for a few minutes, trying to regain composure and both dreading and anticipating the night to come.
After ordering their drinks, Ianto (who had since gone home and changed into jeans and a sweater) and Jack (who looked the same as ever) sat across from each other in the dimly lit pub. It was full of blokes watching football and shouting over one another, so they went mostly unnoticed. Ianto was absent mindedly fiddling with a coaster, and Jack watched him intently. He was sad he'd changed, he looked so hot in that suit. Their drinks arrived, and Jack began.
"So Ianto, how've you been?" Jack asked.
"Fine sir" replied Ianto, taking a noticeably large swig of his beer.
"You don't look fine. Talk to me Ianto. You look exhausted. When was the last time you had a good night sleep?"
"Last night sir. I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine, really" Ianto pushed. He didn't want Jack prying like this. What if he found out? About the cutting? Even worse, what if he found out Ianto had a crush on him? He would probably laugh in his face, or fire him, or be repulsed by him. Ianto couldn't let that happen. God he smells good…and those eyes….Ianto swallowed hard and took another swig of his beer.
"Cut the crap Ianto. I've been around a lot longer than you. I notice when my employees start acting strangely. Why won't you just talk to me?" Jack was almost pleading for the younger man to let him in. He looked so lost, so lonely and so….sad. But also hot. He was definitely hot.
"Be right back sir, gotta piss" Ianto said. He stood up from the table and made a beeline to the restroom. He quickly looked around and realized the only stall was occupied. Shit! He pulled the razor blade from his pocket and rolled up his sleeve. He usually avoided his lower arms, but he was in a hurry. Just as he was making the first cut, Jack walked in.
"Jesus Christ Ianto! What the hell are you doing?" Jack exclaimed.
"Nothing sir" Ianto mumbled and rushed past Jack out the door, dropping the razor blade on the floor as he went.
"Ianto wait!" Jack called as he ran after Ianto, following him outside.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ianto thought to himself as he ran. He didn't really know where he was going, he just had to get away. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he ran. Great, now I'll have to quit. Why was I so stupid? Why did it have to be him? It could have been Gwen or Tosh by why did it have to be him? Him, with his stupid braces and button-up shirts and that stupid military coat. Oh, god the coat. If he wasn't so angry and embarrassed he might have been aroused. His breath was catching in his throat, and his legs were burning. He slowed his pace and ran into an alley, collapsing, sobbing against the wall, burrowing his head into his hands and pulling his knees up against him.
He was so broken down and upset that he didn't hear the footsteps approaching. Jack paused about five feet from Ianto and studied him for a moment. He hadn't realized how thin he was. And Jack was angry. Angry that he was so ignorant that the chipper, sassy young man had been reduced to a frail, fragile weeping mess on the pavement. Why, Ianto? What could be so bad? He finally sat down next to him, and put an arm around his shoulders. Ianto leaned against Jack but continued to sob. Jack just sat there and waited. After several minutes, Ianto's sobs began to slow. Eventually, he was just shaking, but no tears were coming out. Once his breathing began to slow, he finally spoke.
"I think I'd like to go home now" he whispered.
Jack, without saying anything, helped the young man to his feet. After walking back to the bar, Jack motioned for Ianto to get into his car. Jack got into the driver's side and proceeded to take the young man home.