A few months ago, when I had a really really bad night (my Dad was rushed into hospital), the wonderful cindergirlgrimm wrote me five short stories, based on a music-meme that was going around. Almost as soon as I finished reading Of All The Gin Joints this popped into my head. It is one of the few stories I wrote by hand, and it was almost unchanged from that first version.
Please note - if you read Of All The Gin Joints it is rated M! The relevant passage is included so you don't have to read it to understand this. However, if you are of age, I suggest you read it anyway because it is brilliant! Again, I would read her summary and authors notes first but I loved it, it really made my night!
Title: Of All The Gin Joints - Ianto's POV
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: Teen
Genre: I'm gonna go out on a limb and say angst!
Characters: Jack/Ianto, Doctor/Rose, Jack/Rose - Yep, you read that right.
Word Count: 950
Summary: The Doctor and Ianto understood but that doesn't mean they liked it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, though I wouldn't say no to a pet pterodactyl.
Rose and Jack had one frantic but perfect night because they just had to and the Doctor and Ianto understood and it was so beautiful and so perfect. (And the Doctor and Ianto understood but that doesn't mean they liked it or the smeared mascara or the kiss marks.) - Of All The Gin Joints by cindergirlgrimm
Ianto's POV.
Ianto and the Doctor sat in complete silence. The only sound was the clink of glass on metal as they raised their bottles before setting them back on their metal coasters.
They didn't speculate on what they thought was happening- their imaginations were already supplying them with more erotic images than they could handle.
There was no need to add fuel to the already raging fire.
Ianto didn't need to ask the Doctor if he wanted another drink, he just retrieved two bottles from the fridge every time he finished his own. The Doctor didn't say anything about the small pink tablet Ianto handed to him at the beginning of the night- no lectures about what it was and what it did, no reprimands about this particular hangover prevention not being perfected for another two hundred years, or that its origin was not from this galaxy.
He just swallowed it along with his first mouthful of beer.
*
Several hours later, and Ianto's beer supply exhausted, they still had not spoken. The Doctor was lying on his back on a large red rug in front of the fire, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the ceiling.
Ianto tried, and failed, not to think about the last time he was in that position, or of the carpet burns that remained on his back.
Silently, Ianto rose from his position on his sofa and headed towards his liquor cabinet. It was almost empty; there was one bottle of merlot and an already open bottle of scotch. Jack only drank when he was coming to terms with another loss, or he had bad news to impart.
Ianto had seen too much of the scotch recently.
The only other bottle in the cabinet was an unopened bottle of gin, a birthday present from some colleagues at Torchwood One. Lisa had laughed when he had brought it home- Ianto had vowed never to drink gin again after a night out with Lisa's brothers. Most of the night was a blur; all he remembered was a pounding headache and the taste of stale gin on his tongue days later.
Wordlessly, Ianto reached for the bottle and two glass tumblers before heading back to his sofa.
*
When Jack spoke about his final encounter with Grey, he spoke about penance. This was Ianto's penance. For Lisa, for Abaddon, for all the times he went behind Jack's back- the little betrayals.
Jack had forgiven them all for opening the Rift, just as they had forgiven him for leaving. This did not do much to eradicate Ianto's guilt. Ianto had hurt Jack more than most, but he was the one Jack had chosen. Jack could have anybody he wanted man, woman or alien, yet more nights than not, it was into Ianto's arms he fell.
*
Ianto had known this was going to happen. He could see it in Jack's eyes when he looked at Rose. Jack never looked at anyone else like that- not himself, or Gwen, not even the man lying on his floor, also nursing a tumbler and a broken heart.
Ianto could see love in Jack's eyes when he looked at them, but Rose- she was different.
Still, Ianto had been surprised when Jack had asked his permission. Jack had actually asked for this one night. Perhaps Jack already knew that Ianto would not refuse, when had he ever said no to something that would make Jack happy? Perhaps Jack would have gone and done it anyway.
Ianto hadn't wanted to find out.
*
The first rays of sunlight were just starting to creep through Ianto's window when he finally gave into the temptation to sleep, hoping that the alcohol would diminish the nightmares rather than add to them.
Ianto stayed awake just long enough to put his tumbler back on the glass coffee table.
The Doctor was still lying on the floor, the regular rising and replacing of his glass the only indication he was still awake.
The last thing Ianto registered before burying his head in his arms was that the bottle of gin was still about one quarter full.
It was empty when he awoke a few hours later.
*
With time Ianto knew the images and visions that had plagued his mind for the last twelve hours would fade. He also knew that this moment would be permanently burned in his memory – and there was nothing he could do about it.
Jack's shirt was open at the top showing Jack's pale skin, Rose's markings mingling with Ianto's own. Ianto did not want to know far the pink lipstick mark was smeared, the one that started on his collarbone.
Ianto felt his own heart break just a little more when Rose gave Jack one final kiss goodbye. It was quick and tender and over in an instant.
The Doctor and Ianto did not say goodbye. The Doctor just followed Rose into the TARDIS with a brief nod of his head. Ianto wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it.
Once the TARDIS had vanished, the Hub was eerily silent. Ianto was glad. He did not want to have to face Gwen yet, inquiring if he'd had a good night since Jack had sent her home early. He would just nod, smile, and make an outlandish comment about Jack's manners in bed. Anything was better than admitting the truth.
Jack and Ianto both turned and went in opposite directions: Jack to his room below his office, Ianto to make himself a cup of coffee. Jack could make his own.
Ianto understood why Jack needed that one night – but it didn't mean he was happy about it.