Who He Wants To Be

By Gracefultree

Chapter 11: Can This Day Get Any Worse?

Posted: October 13, 2014

A/N: I seem to be updating more than once a week. Don't think you mind, do you? Enjoy!

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"Fridays suck," Ianto declared to no one in particular.

He blinked blearily at his pint glass and wondered how it got empty so quickly. He motioned to the bartender for another. Today had been one disaster after another, between forgetting his lunch on the underground, spilling his third coffee of the day all over himself in the break room when someone bumped into him, right in front of half a dozen colleagues, misfiling an artifact and having to file and refile all the associated paperwork to recall the item, correctly file it, and double-check his work before his supervisor-of-the-day noticed the delay, getting practically mauled by a large woman and her six small, yippy dogs on his lunch break because of the mediocre sandwich he had to buy at the lunch truck outdoors because the canteen was closed by the time he got there thanks to the extra paperwork, and then missing his stop on the way home and getting off at an unfamiliar place only to be splashed by a lorry driving through a huge puddle at the side of the road. Not to mention the interview with Catherine of HR that lasted two hours and was what required the third coffee in the first place.

"Interviews suck," Ianto added, though no one was paying attention to him. He frowned, thinking about how he'd walked into the interview prepared for a meeting with Catherine, whom he'd met once and thought was nice, to be confronted by Catherine, Yvonne Hartman, herself, and two of the resident 'psych corps,' men and women gifted with telepathy, among other psychic powers. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and decided he had to beat them at their own game. He pictured Jax, James's fictional hero, and thought about what Jax would do in this situation.

In Ianto's mind, Jax was a tall bond man with perfect teeth and green eyes. He looked sort of like James, with the dimples and cleft chin, but his hair was slightly longer, swept back. He wore a space suit that came from Ianto's memory of old sci-fi shows, and had a personal shield belt and sonic blaster.

Ianto imagined having the personal shield, protecting his thoughts and mind. Whenever he felt them rummaging in his head, he imagined shooting them with the blaster. It was hard work, but he got through the interview, and Yvonne, who had spent the entire meeting sitting in the corner filing her nails, seemed to be paying attention to some of his answers. The psychics sat on either side of Catherine, and every so often one of them would pass her a note. The question that followed the note always surprised him, and usually required one him to use his blaster technique.

By the end of it all he was so exhausted that he stumbled to the break room in need of coffee, and started the chain of events that had him standing on the street corner dripping wet, his best suit ruined, or at least in need of a trip to the dry cleaner's.

He did the only sensible thing. He took a long, hot shower, changed into his most comfortable jeans, and took off for his local after complaining to his roommates about it. Now, fours hours and at least seven pints later, he was quite drunk and enjoying the warmth of his buzz and the people all around him. The only thing he needed right now was James, he decided. James would make the day better.

James would take him home and fuck him senseless so he wouldn't have to think about the disaster of the day. James would cuddle with him afterwards and make him breakfast in the morning. James would have more sex with him, take him out to dinner, and then he'd take him to see that new thriller, Red Eye, which just opened at the theaters. It involved airplanes, a favorite thing of James's, and suspense, a favorite of Ianto's. Then they'd go back to Ianto's for more sex. It would be a perfect date.

But James wasn't due until tomorrow afternoon, a good 12-14 hours away…

"Contractors suck, too," Ianto declared, still upset that he wouldn't get to go to James's flat until some unspecified future date, though they'd hoped it would be this weekend. James said on the phone that the new ones he hired seemed to be working out so far, but they had a ways to go to repair the damage the last ones caused. 'Be patient, darling, you'll still get to fuck me in my bed,' he'd reassured Ianto. It wasn't about the sex, though, Ianto muttered to himself. He just wanted to see the place, to know what it looked like, so he could imagine James there when they spoke on the phone.

And to reassure himself that James didn't have a wife and/or child he didn't want Ianto to know about. He didn't think James would keep him in the dark about something that important, but he'd seen far too many movies where the mistress and wife found out about each other and had all kinds of drama. Ianto didn't want the drama. Besides, he wasn't a mistress. He was a man. A friend. There wasn't a reason for a mythical wife to be jealous of him.

Not that he was jealous of a woman he didn't think existed, or anything. He didn't get jealous. Not about James. They weren't in a relationship. No need to get jealous.

"I hate to sound cliché, but is this seat taken?" a silky, familiar, American-accented voice purred in Ianto's ear just as a warm hand pressed against the middle of his back. Ianto swung around, a little too quickly for his drink-muddled brain. He felt slightly dizzy, and he wasn't sure he didn't start swaying. "Hey, gorgeous, I heard you had a bad day," James said, smiling encouragingly, his hand moving up and down along Ianto's back.

"What? How did —"

"Gary called me. Is it ok that I came?"

Instead of answering, Ianto grabbed the lapels of James's greatcoat and pulled him into a deep kiss. "Take me home," he growled when he broke away for air. "I want you."

"Thought you'd say that," James murmured, tossing a pile of notes on the bar next to Ianto's place after glancing at the bill. He put an arm around Ianto's waist to support him off the bar stool. "Car's out front," he explained. Ianto caught himself wondering why James always had cash on him. He never used a credit card, as far as Ianto saw, except to pay for hotel rooms. And he must have used one to get the theatre tickets, but he always used cash to pay for dinner or drinks or anything else. Strange. Also, not important. He weaved on his feet as he stood and James held on to him, holding him up.

Ianto made it safely to James's car, and up the stairs to his flat, and into the sitting room, where he shoved James onto the sofa and climbed onto his lap.

"Ianto! Bedroom!" James gasped through Ianto's kisses. Ianto ignored him, his fingers already fumbling with the buttons of James's shirt. "Fuck, Ianto!"

"That's the point," Ianto declared, crowing triumphantly as he pulled James's shirt free of his trousers. He leaned closer and started sucking on James's neck in that spot that always excited him. "I want you to fuck me, James," Ianto slurred, his hands continuing to move, slipping under James's t-shirt so he could caress his skin. "I want your cock deep inside me. I want to feel your balls slapping against my arse." He twisted James's nipples, eliciting a strangled gasp. "I'll ride you, and you'll love every single moment of it."

"God, yes," James moaned. His settled his hands on Ianto's hips, shifting him so that he could thrust his erection against Ianto's clothed arse, before capturing his lips for more kisses. "But let's go to the bedroom, yeah?"

"I think about you all the time," Ianto babbled, breaking away so he could pull his jumper off over his head. "I jerk off every night thinking of you." He started biting James's jaw.

"That's — wow!" James jerked when Ianto's hands found their way down the front of his trousers. "But we've gotta go to the bedroom. We can't do this here."

"No, you don't get it. I was thinking of you tonight, too. I was thinking, wouldn't it be great if you were here so you could fuck me on the sofa? Wouldn't that be hot?"

"Yeah, but what about your roommates?"

"Steve would love to watch," Ianto said. He stopped groping James to get the other man out of his shirt and t-shirt. "You know he's always wanted me. You saw it yourself when we met. And then again at that club. He kissed you! And you're fucking beautiful! Who wouldn't want you?"

"Well, I still can't let us do this here," James said, reaching to do up his fly.

"Come on," Ianto whined.

In the background, the front door to the flat opened, and moments later, Steve walked in. He did a double-take, staring at the half-naked men on the sofa.

"Um, guys…" he started to say, shifting awkwardly.

"Sorry!" James exclaimed. "He's totally pissed. I've been trying to — "

"Shut up and fuck me already!" Ianto demanded. He grabbed James's head and tried to pull it so James could suck on his nipple.

"Not here!" James barked, his patience snapping in the face of Ianto's onslaught and Steve's presence.

With a show of strength that astounded both Ianto and Steve, James surged to his feet, tossing Ianto over his shoulder in the process, and proceeded to carry him down the hall to Ianto's bedroom. He had an arm around Ianto's knees, and a firm grip on Ianto's arm to keep him in place.

"What the fuck are you doing? Put me down!" Ianto shouted, squirming against James's hold, forcing him to stop moving or risk dropping them both. "You're supposed to be fucking me!"

James glanced over at Steve, and then at Gary and his girlfriend Lorraine who came into the hall from Gary's room. "I'm not having sex with you on the sofa!" he replied in as calm a voice as he could muster.

"Then what the fuck are you doing here?" Ianto demanded angrily.

"You need me," James said, starting to walk towards Ianto's room again now that he'd gotten Ianto to stop flailing.

"I need you to fuck me, you bloody git!"

"And we'll do that, just not in the middle of the flat! You'd hate me if I let us do that." James kicked open Ianto's door.

"I hate you now!" Ianto shouted at the top of his lungs.

His own anger flaring, James threw Ianto onto the bed. "Shut it down!" he snarled, a finger pointed threateningly at Ianto's face. "I'm getting you water, and if you're not back to yourself by the time I get back, I'm turning around and going home. I did not spend three and a half hours in rush hour traffic for this bullshit!" He turned on his heel and stalked out of the bedroom.

Ianto, dazed by landing so suddenly on the bed and the height of James's anger, lay back, wondering what trouble he'd just gotten himself into. His head was spinning, partly due to the beer, partly due to being horny and angry, though he imagined James carrying him upside down over his shoulder didn't help, either. In the distance, he heard the murmur of voices.

"You ok?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," James answered with a huff. "Fine."

"Try not to let it get to you. He's had a shit of a day."

"That doesn't make it ok to —"

"He doesn't hate you," Gary interrupted.

James sighed loudly. Ianto pictured him running his fingers through his hair. "I know. I know. I just — it's just hard to hear, even though I know he doesn't mean it."

"Take him the water. Get him to sleep. You'll both feel better in the morning."

"I might, but he'll be hung over," James muttered. Ianto heard the tap running.

"You'll deal with it tomorrow, then."

"He wants to go see that new movie," Gary's girlfriend said. "Red something. He was saying he'd like to go with you. You know, before he went out and got so drunk."

"Red Eye," James supplied. "He's mentioned it."

"That's it! Honestly, he was really excited." There was a pause. "James? You don't have to worry, you know. He's totally smitten with you. I don't know you well, but even I can tell."

"Thanks, Lorraine, Steve. And Gary? Thanks for calling me."

"No problem, mate. You take care of him," Gary said.

The room had stopped spinning by the time James made it back into the room, and Ianto accepted his help drinking the water. Ianto lay back and closed his eyes. "Everything's spinning again," he said with a groan. James pulled off Ianto's jeans and tucked him under the covers. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Ianto's hair before bending over and kissing his forehead.

"Sleep, Ianto. Get it out of your system."

"I don't think I'll get to work with Billy," Ianto confessed. "I was supposed to keep it from them, but I ended up telling them in the end. I don't know how it happened."

"Billy? The ginger tea guy?"

"Yeah, there's like, over a dozen Williams, so he goes by Billy. But there's two more Billys. There's a bunch of Jennifers and Rebeccas and Sarahs and Michaels and Johns. A few Scotts, too, and there's even a few Jameses."

"How many people work there?" James asked, sounding amused at Ianto's rambling. "I don't think you ever said."

"A lot."

"Uh huh, and are there any other Iantos?"

"Nope," Ianto said, popping the p in a way he learned from James. "I'm the only one!"

"You certainly are unique," James commented.

"Are you married?" Ianto blurted.

James's eyes widened in shock and he burst into laughter. "Of course not!" he exclaimed, wiping his eyes.

"But I've never been to Cardiff with you. Why would you keep me from Cardiff unless you had a wife?"

James shifted on the edge of the bed so he was closer. He leaned down and gave Ianto a tender kiss. "I'm not married, darling. I don't have a wife or a lover or a boyfriend. I'm only with you right now."

"But I've never seen your flat!"

"My flat's full of sawdust and there's no kitchen. I promise I'll bring you by as soon as it's done, ok? As soon as it's done."

"I don't want you to have a wife," Ianto said.

"I don't have a wife," James answered. "I work too much for anyone to want to live with me."

"If I were gay, I'd live with you," Ianto mumbled. "Those women are stupid. They should be begging to live with you!"

James's smile became slightly sad, though Ianto didn't notice.

"Ianto, there are no women."

"But don't you want one?" Ianto blinked, confused. Why wouldn't James want a woman in his life? Everyone wanted a woman in their life!

"I'm content with what I have. I'm happy being with you."

"But I want a woman. I want to marry one someday."

"I know you do," James whispered, wiping his eyes for an entirely different reason, any hint of a smile gone from his lips. "I'm sorry I'm not enough."

"You're more than I could ever hope for. You're too good for me."

"If only you knew who I really was, you'd take that back," James muttered. "You'd hate me."

"I could never hate you," Ianto declared firmly. "If I were gay, I'd want to be with you forever. I bet you'd make a brilliant boyfriend, if you're this good as just a friend."

James's lips twitched, but he didn't smile.

"Sing to me?" Ianto asked, his question punctuated by a yawn. James sighed and started singing softly. Ianto couldn't understand the words, but it sounded like a lullaby. Either that or a love song, and he wasn't ready to think about that kind of thing, even when falling-down drunk.

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Ianto woke up alone in bed. His stomach felt like there were a pack of dinosaurs racing around inside, and his head pounded. He groaned and looked around, sure he could remember kneeling in the bathroom in the middle of the night vomiting, James's soothing voice in his ear and his warm hand on his back. But James wasn't in his room, and there was no usual evidence indicating he'd come, like the hastily discarded clothing, used condoms in the rubbish bin or bottle of lube blocking the view of his alarm clock. Had it been a drink-induced dream? A fantasy?

Though why a fantasy would include vomiting and not sex was beyond him.

He yawned, trying to remember. He had a shitty day. He went out drinking. Somehow, he made it home and into bed. At least he made it home safely. That was always a plus.

Shuffling into the main room, he found his fantasy come to life. James sat on the sofa, leaning forward to work on his laptop while he balanced a mobile between his ear and shoulder. There was a pillow on one end of the sofa and a spare blanket still around his waist. Ianto paused in the doorway to take in the scene. Dressed in boxers and a plain white t-shirt that outlined his well-defined upper body, James had to be the most handsome man alive.

"— I'm not going to apologize!" James said in a harsh whisper. "I'm the boss, and if I need to take off a day early…" He listened for a moment. "Fuck the bloody Rift!" he exclaimed. "You and the others can handle it for a day, Suzie… No, I'm not coming back on Sunday… I'm coming back Monday, just like always… Because I'm in charge! Put Tosh on the phone."

"Coffee?" Ianto asked, bending to kiss James's cheek.

James slammed the lid of his laptop down so quickly Ianto feared that it would break, but the smile on James's face was so warm that he decided he must have imagined the startled, fearful look that flashed briefly across it. "That would be lovely. How are you?"

"Hung over. And, yes, I know coffee's not the thing for that, but…" he trailed off.

"I'll take you to breakfast once I finish here," James offered. He gave Ianto a quick kiss on the lips, then turned away, his call connecting. "Tosh? Yeah, I'm at Ianto's… No, he's fine. I don't know what happened yet, but I'm sure he'll tell me over breakfast…"

Ianto walked away to the kitchen, half an ear out to listen to what James was saying about him. He was disappointed when he realized he'd heard all there was to hear and James was talking about work again, fingers tapping away at his computer. He wondered why James closed his computer so quickly. All Ianto saw was a spreadsheet of data, his inbox containing emails with his team, and a window with a moving graph of some kind. Nothing that made sense to him, at any rate.

"…Did you finish that coding? Uh huh, and that thing we picked up yesterday? Check downstairs. It looked familiar, so I think we have another one down there somewhere. Maybe came through three years ago?" James paused, listening. When he started talking again, he sounded defensive. "I don't know! Just go poke around down there. Do it long enough and you're bound to find something good. You might even find that thing I was looking for last month… Yes, we need an archivist, but I'm not hiring him and that's final… Because I've done office romances before and they always end badly, especially in our line of work… And do I need to remind you that we're not dating?"

Ianto let the bubbling of the coffee machine drown out James's voice. Would he want to work with James, if the opportunity arose, if James asked him? It would be difficult, having sex with the boss. It would mean moving to Cardiff. It would mean —

Ianto shook his head to clear it. No. No, he would pretend he hadn't overheard James and stop thinking about wild possibilities, like getting to see James every day, or at least getting to see him more often. If they lived in the same city… If they lived together…

No, that wasn't possible. He had a good job here. He had friends. He had a life in London. He didn't want to give it up for Cardiff and a man he'd only met a few months ago.

Though, if he admitted it, it felt like he'd known and been sleeping with James for a lot longer than the three months it really was. God, was it only three months? Today was September third. Tomorrow would be three months since their first date.

Shit! Was he expected to do anything? Did one do something for a fuck buddy on an anniversary like this? Was this an anniversary?

No! No, it's not an anniversary, and no, they don't do anything for it. They're not in a relationship, damn it! It's just sex, and one doesn't buy presents, anniversary or otherwise, for one's fuck buddy. One's friend. One's friend one has sex with?

God, the whole thing was confusing!

Though he had picked up that little thing on the spur of the moment the other night at the corner store… maybe he could give it to James tomorrow…

But it didn't mean anything.

Just a friend buying a random trinket for another friend.

No relationship, no dating, no meaning.

Just sex.

Good sex.

Great sex.

But still, it was just sex… Wasn't it?

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