Set after Adam and before Reset, not that it really matters …
Helping Hand
"I wish you'd let me help."
"I can manage."
Jack Harkness stood and watched for a minute or two then shrugged and turned away. "Have it your own way." He left the room.
Left to his own devices, Ianto Jones struggled on for a while then sank onto the bed and groaned silently. Every time he moved a spasm of pain shot across his shoulder and down his right arm in addition to the general, dull ache. He had no idea a pulled muscle would hurt this much. Or restrict what he could do. He had managed to remove his suit jacket and tie but the waistcoat was a step too far and he daren't even contemplate removing his shoes and trousers. Closing his eyes, he counted to ten then stood up, wincing with the stab of pain even that movement caused.
At the bedroom door he surveyed the living room and saw Jack sitting in a chair flicking through the TV channels with the remote. "Would you help me please?" he asked wearily.
Jack looked across at him. "Thought you could manage?"
"All right, I apologise." He leant against the doorframe, on his good side. "I'm ungrateful and stubborn and all the other names you want to call me. Would you just help me get my clothes off?"
"Now that," said Jack with a smirk, putting the TV on standby and standing, "is something I will always help you with." He crossed to Ianto and gently turned him round and pushed him back into the bedroom. "Why are you so obstinate, Ianto Jones? You knew you wouldn't be able to do it on your own."
"I don't like relying on other people." He allowed himself to be positioned near the bed and stood as Jack started on the waistcoat.
Jack's hands stilled. "I am not 'other people'." He went back to the buttons and then carefully slipped the garment from Ianto's shoulders. "I am .. I'm .. I'm the damned fool who promised to help shift the cupboard and then forgot. And then didn't see you were hurt." That wasn't what he had been going to say so to cover his confusion he knelt and unlaced Ianto's shoes.
"I'm the fool who wouldn't wait and didn't say I hurt. Jack, this is not your fault." The Welshman obediently lifted first one leg then the other as Jack removed the shoes and socks. He put his left hand on Jack's shoulder for balance but removed it as soon as he was back standing on both feet again; he didn't want to appear too needy. Ianto knew Jack had been going to say something else but there was no point forcing the issue, it would only be worth hearing if it was said voluntarily.
Jack stayed crouched at Ianto's feet, looking at the floor. He should have carried on and said what he was going to; he was such a coward sometimes. Also, he hadn't missed the resigned tone in Ianto's voice. They were closer than ever now and Jack spent a lot of time here in Ianto's flat, yet the Welshman had never pressed for a commitment. He deserved to know how Jack felt about him yet he, Jack, couldn't say the words.
"Gone to sleep down there?" asked Ianto, lightly brushing a hand through the other man's hair.
"No." He stood up and faced Ianto. "I was thinking." He paused and wondered if he should say it then chickened out. "Should it be the shirt next or the trousers? I think shirt." He smiled brightly and began work on the buttons.
Ianto returned the smile but inside he was disappointed. He had really thought Jack might have opened up but no, he had shied away yet again. He stood still as Jack removed the shirt and then the trousers. Standing in his boxers, he shivered in the cold air; he was so rarely at home this early in the evening the central heating was set too low. They'd turned it up but it hadn't had time to heat the place yet.
"Where are your pyjamas?" asked Jack, looking around. They never wore them usually, only got in the way, but he was sure Ianto would have a pair somewhere. He needed them if he was shivering.
"Second drawer of the chest behind you. In the bottom drawer there's an old cardigan, can you get that too?"
"Okay." Jack opened the drawers and found the required items. He slipped the pyjama jacket on Ianto straight away and draped the cardigan, made of thick but light wool, over the top. He saw Ianto wince even at this slight weight. "Sorry." Next he removed the boxers and helped Ianto step into the pyjama bottoms and pulled them up, securing them at his waist. "Bed for you, I think," he announced looking at Ianto's drawn face.
"Not yet. I'm hungry."
"It is possible to eat in bed, as we've proved many times."
"I know," Ianto smiled. "But then I was able to clean up afterwards, now I won't be able to."
"True. Okay, you can stay up to eat but then it's bed. Got any slippers?"
"Bottom of the wardrobe." Jack found them and held them while Ianto slipped his feet inside.
"Come on then, my little wounded soldier," said Jack, rising to his feet.
Together they went to the kitchen and Ianto gratefully sank into a chair at the table. After a brief discussion they settled on soup and sandwiches, both of which were within Jack's capabilities and which Ianto considered he could eat left handed without making too much mess. Ianto sat and watched as Jack moved around the space, at home in the room.
They often came here to the flat, either for a whole night or just for a few hours' relaxation, when there weren't any alerts. It had been strange at first but gradually Ianto had got used to Jack's ways and vice versa. The Welshman liked the company and contrary to popular belief the two men did not spend all their time in the bedroom dabbling. Jack had owned up to a passion for board games and they had fun playing these, especially as Jack had his own rules for most of them. Monopoly would never be the same again! Looking through to the living room, Ianto saw the chess set on the side. He had bought it for Jack as it was one game neither of them had mastered. They were learning together, from a 'how to' book, and were part way through a game, playing by conventional rules for once. A quiet evening often ended at the board with a mug of coffee in hand puzzling over an opening gambit.
Jack was rummaging in cupboards and Ianto watched, a smile on his face. He liked seeing his lover in a domestic setting. Far from diminishing his heroic, larger than life personality domesticity complemented it in some indefinable way. Ianto had hoped that spending time together would make Jack more comfortable in their relationship, enough to open up and talk about it, but so far Jack was reluctant to commit himself. While that disappointed Ianto, he was too happy enjoying having Jack around to mind too much about knowing exactly where he stood. He knew that Jack wanted to be with him, that was enough for now.
"Have you moved the croutons again?" asked Jack, looking over his shoulder. "They were in here last week."
"I've never kept them there. They're with the tins in .. Oww!" Foolishly, Ianto had attempted to point to the correct cupboard.
"Hey." Jack was by his side. He wanted to hug Ianto but knew this would hurt him more so settled for brushing a hand over his back and kissing the top of his head. "More painkillers?"
"Yeah." Ianto disliked taking pills but he needed them now. Jack went to the bottles of anti-inflammatories and painkillers Owen had given them and held out two of the latter. A bottle of water was already on the table and Ianto took a swig to wash them down.
"You warm enough?" asked Jack. Ianto looked cold so Jack got a throw from the living room and put it over the Welshman's knees. "How's the swelling?"
"Better." Ianto had sat with an icepack on his shoulder for ages once Owen had noticed him not using his right arm and forced him to confess to being in pain. That and the pills had helped a lot but the constant ache and the sudden spasms when he moved were make him feel very tired. "Watch the soup, Jack."
The other man went to the stove and removed the pan from the heat, stirring the vegetable soup inside. He had got there in time to prevent disaster and replaced it, turning the heat down and finished making the chicken salad sandwiches. Jack enjoyed pottering about in a kitchen after so many years living in the Hub when he'd existed on takeaways or eaten out. His repertoire was limited but if time allowed he wanted to learn a few more dishes. Of course, it wasn't just the kitchen that he liked about being here. Ianto was a remarkable man and he … even to himself Jack couldn't say it. If he did, he would have to face the problems of mortality versus immortality and he didn't want to go there again, not yet. He put the sandwiches on plates and took them to the table.
"Want coffee?" he asked.
"No, thanks. This will do." Ianto indicated the bottle of water, being careful not to jar his shoulder.
"Right, soup's ready." He went back to the stove and turned off the heat.
"What about the croutons?"
"Damn, forgot about those. This cupboard?" he asked, moving to his right.
"Yeah. Second shelf, I think." Ianto watched and saw Jack find them. "And could I have the salt?" He worded the request carefully. Jack could get touchy if Ianto reminded him too obviously that he had forgotten something.
"Sure." He put the container of croutons on the table along with the salt. Pouring the soup into bowls, he brought these to the table and sat down. Taking some bread, which he broke into pieces and added to the bowl, he asked, "You okay there?"
"Think so." Ianto used his left hand to spoon soup to his mouth; it was awkward but he could manage.
They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the simple meal. It took Ianto longer than usual to finish but he did manage not to spill anything which pleased him. Jack watched and surreptitiously helped by moving things closer when he thought Ianto wasn't looking; Ianto let him. After a while they started to talk about current issues at Torchwood. The whole team was still attempting to work out what had happened during the two days missing from their memories. Some fanciful ideas were being bandied about, mostly by Owen who seemed very concerned he may have done something embarrassing.
"Time for bed," said Jack. "I'll clear up later." He moved round the table and pulled the chair out of the way as Ianto stood.
"Thanks." Ianto was ready for some rest, although he was not sure the ache would go away long enough for him to go to sleep. They walked to the bedroom. "What are you doing?"
"Thought you could do with a hand," was Jack's innocent reply. They were now in the living room en route to the bedroom
"On my arse?"
"But it's such a lovely arse," Jack whispered, leaning close.
Ianto laughed wearily. "Do you never stop?"
They made it to the bedroom and Jack pulled back the duvet and plumped up the pillows, forming a support for the injured shoulder. Ianto sank back and sighed; his shoulder still ached but not quite as much. Jack fussed around and tweaked the pillows until Ianto was entirely comfortable then settled the duvet around the injured man.
"Want to try the heat pad? Owen did say it would help."
"I suppose." It seemed odd to Ianto that ice and heat could both be beneficial but he'd try anything that gave him some relief and allowed him to drop off. He craved sleep all of a sudden.
"Don't be so enthusiastic! Won't be a tick."
Jack disappeared to the kitchen and put the pad Owen had supplied into the microwave. As he waited, he thought back and berated himself again for not helping move the cupboard as Ianto had requested, and for missing the signs that Ianto was injured. Thank goodness Owen had been on the ball. The microwave pinged and Jack reached in for the pad. It was very hot and he let it go immediately, reminded that he was supposed to wrap it in a towel before putting it on Ianto's shoulder. He found a clean fluffy tea towel in a drawer and wrapped the pad in it.
"Here we are," Jack announced as he entered the bedroom then stopped.
Ianto was asleep, eyes closed and head leaning to one side. He must have been exhausted. Once more, Jack marvelled at how young the man looked when sleeping, all the worries of the world that he carried on his shoulders when awake fell away and he was just the twenty something man again. Deciding to use the heat pad anyway, Jack placed it gently on the injured shoulder over the pyjamas and cardigan and still within the tea towel. He brushed back a lock of hair and smiled. Maybe be would tell Ianto how he felt when he woke up. Maybe. Leaving the man to sleep, Jack turned out the light and part closed the door. He intended to steal a march on Ianto by studying the chess board.
Just a little piece of fluffiness.