Jack Wakes - Chapter 14

by Gracefultree

A/N: Here we have the chapter that follows alongside 'Ianto Wakes, Chapter 4,' if you want to read them side by side and see what a difference a point of view is. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think.

.

Ianto wasn't in the kitchen when I got back to my flat, psych records in hand. Nor was he in the sitting room. I slid the folder under the cushions of the sofa. He wouldn't look there, and I'd finish reading them once he was asleep. The first half of the file was enough for now, and my insight into the mind of one Ianto Jones was much more complete, though I knew there was more yet to discover.

"Jack?" Ianto called, and I could tell he was in the bedroom. I smiled. No need to focus on his psychology when I could lose myself in his body.

Stepping into the bedroom, I stopped short. Ianto lay stretched out on burgundy sheets. The silk was draped across his body in such a way as to cover his groin, though I could tell he was excited to see me by the outline of his erection. Candles cast a gentle glow around the room.

"Red is your color," I said hoarsely, my own arousal building. His pale skin was accentuated by the color, and I itched to run my fingers along his body.

"Come to bed," he whispered, beckoning me forward. I shucked off my clothing and joined him. We kissed and caressed each other for a long time, both wanting to take things slowly. The silk felt wonderful against my skin, and I wondered where he'd gotten it. It wasn't in my linen closet, that's for sure. Not that I cared where he'd gotten it when he was sucking on my neck and my hands were massaging his back and arse. "I'd like to try something," he said softly in my ear. "Get on your hands and knees."

I shivered in anticipation. Ianto had shagged me twice more since the first time, but not from this position, and now that I felt comfortable with him taking me, I was ready for a good pounding. Face-to-face is excellent, but sometimes the classic poses are the way to go. He got on his knees behind me and stroked my arse. He parted my cheeks.

Suddenly his breath was hot on my opening and his tongue touched me hesitantly. I couldn't help the sigh that escaped my lips. Here was Ianto, rimming me for the first time. I groaned as he became more bold, though I resisted the urge to push back. He probably wasn't ready for that. Then his tongue breached me and we both groaned.

"Stretch me," I gasped after a few glorious minutes. "I need you inside me."

Soon he was entering me, and I couldn't think about anything as he gave me exactly what I wanted, hard and fast and deep.

"Why do I like this so much?" he asked himself afterwards, when we were curled up together catching our breath. "I mean, I liked rimming you!"

"Does it matter?" I answered, kissing his shoulder, his chest, too blissed out to concentrate on what we were saying.

"No, I suppose not," he murmured. I was almost asleep when he spoke again, my earlier resolve to stay up and read his psych file disintegrated under the onslaught of great sex. "When are you going to give me a job?" he asked.

"I'm not," I answered, yawning. I snuggled closer against him.

"I can't keep staying here, Jack. I need a place of my own. I need an income."

"I'll get you a flat. I'll give you a stipend," I offered without thinking, just wanting to take care of my beautiful Welshman, wanting to protect him. "As much as I'd pay you working for me."

"I'm not a whore," he growled angrily, and I realized how my offer must have sounded.

"Of course you're not a whore!" I shouted, getting out of bed, angry at myself for the misunderstanding. I remembered something from his file: Ianto has a lot of pride about being self-sufficient because of the lack of money in his house when he was growing up. He is intensely ashamed of his past as a teen pickpocket, and he works hard to dispel that guilt for those he hurt. Nameless crimes aren't without victims, he says.

I paced around the room, angry for his painful past, angry that I couldn't help him without making him feel dirty. All I wanted was for him to be healthy and happy and in my bed. Shit, I would fuck it all up if I mentioned anything about of his psychology. He'd know I read his files that he worked so hard to hide, and in the middle of an argument wasn't the time to have the conversation when I tell him I've been reading up on him. I defaulted to the most primary reason I didn't want him on staff, my lover or not.

"That's not what I – Damn it, Ianto! You'd get hurt working for me. I don't want you hurt."

"I know the risks. I've lived through them. I still want to work for you."

"Why?" I demanded, needing to understand, hoping he would use the opportunity I was giving him to come clean about what he was hiding. I thought of the horrors of Canary Wharf, and what he must have lived through. I thought of his nightmares, his lost friends and co-workers, all the blood and death he'd seen.

"Why what?"

"Why would you willingly want to work for me after all they've done? Why would you put yourself in that position again?"

"Because I need to, for Lisa, for the others that died."

There it was, Lisa. The elephant in the room, the dead girlfriend/fiance. We'd never talked about her. I didn't know anything about her, except from her Torchwood file. Well, that's not quite true. I read her school records, her psych records. She was a normal young woman. She went to counseling in Uni after a boyfriend dumped her. She didn't have any red flags about her of any kind, though not in the way Ianto didn't have any. His lack of red flags was a red flag in and of itself, while hers was about being average. She's not average to him, I reminded myself. She's very important to him. But I can't let either of us get sidetracked. I can't let him work for me.

"Survivor's guilt?" I finally asked, watching his reactions.

"I'm one of 27 survivors, Jack. They were my friends. Lisa was my girlfriend. I want to honor their memory by keeping up the work, by doing good in their names."

"I'm still getting you a flat," I decided, his pride be damned. "You can't stay here. It's too small, too cramped. I want you to have your things with you. Because you're not a whore, or a kept man, or anything like that. I respect you. You have choices in this."

"I don't want a flat. I want a job! That's my choice."

"I can't give you a job and keep this up, Ianto," I said, letting some of my sadness seep out in my voice. I wanted him to know how I thought of him, that I would miss our intimacy, our relationship. That it wasn't just about sex. I wanted him to know I cared about him, though I couldn't yet tell him that I loved him. As I decided the other day, it was too soon for that kind of declaration.

"So let me go and give me the damned job!" he shouted. "It's just sex, Jack," he added. I didn't believe he actually felt that way, but what was I supposed to do? He was still talking, but I was barely listening, feeling the dread creeping into my heart. "You can find someone else for that. You're more than beautiful enough to have someone else in your bed tomorrow if you want. Hell, you could have someone else here within an hour of me leaving. You won't find someone who can do my job even half as well as I can, who knows the protocols, who's part of it already."

"You think I'm beautiful?" I asked, a goofy smile on my face. Ianto thought I was beautiful! I couldn't help the smile.

"You know you're beautiful," he replied.

"But I didn't know you thought that," I answered. Sure, I'm vain, and yes, I'm aware of my physical attributes, but hearing it from him warmed me. He'd heard me last week on the phone when I thought he was leaving me because he was in London. He knew I had insecurities I kept hidden from everyone, even myself, most of the time. But I had opened myself up to him to let him see that, and here we were, fighting about the job I knew I'd have to give him to find out his secret, since he hadn't taken the chance to tell me just now. At least he thought I was beautiful.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I need the job. I'm not taking no for an answer anymore."

"You'd leave me, leave this thing we have, to work for me and never have this again? You'd willingly watch me with other people?" I asked, taunting him with the idea. Maybe that would knock some sense into his head, even if I had no intention of following through on my threat. I wouldn't be able to be with anyone for a long time, after him, and I knew it. "Because that's what would happen."

"It's only been two weeks," he pointed out, and I could hear the lies in his next words. "We haven't made any promises, and I'm not going to. Your sex life is your own business. Give me a month trial. If it works out, great. If not, we can come back to this."

Oh, Ianto, it's not that easy, I thought. Not by a long shot. It'll take a lot longer to heal this breach, let me tell you. We might jump back into bed, but the intimacy? The trust? That would take a lot of time and effort to rebuild.

"You could get a different job. Wouldn't that be all right?" I suggested.

"I'm going to work for you, Jack. I won't take any other offer."

Suddenly, my anger flared out of control. How dare he leave me? How dare he walk away from me? How dare he throw away what I was offering, especially when what I was offering was love?

"Get out," I snarled. "Your hours are seven in the morning until I decide you can go home. We'll discuss your job description in the morning." He scrambled for his clothes. "Leave the key," I told him, turning my back to him. I knew I wouldn't be back to the flat while he worked for me. Maybe never again, since it held so many memories of him. Maybe it was time to get the nice flat that I'd never thought important before now, the one I wished I'd had when Ianto was with me. If he came back to me, if his secret wasn't so horrible, maybe, just maybe, we'd get back together, then I'd want to be proud of the place I took him home to.

As soon as the front door closed, I stalked to the kitchen and grabbed his favorite mug. I smashed it against the counter, not caring that some of the shards cut me. I grabbed another mug as the anger and heartbreak and sorrow overcame me.

When I came back to myself, I was standing amid a pile of broken pottery, bleeding, with tears streaking down my cheeks. My kitchen was trashed. I swore to myself and went to take a shower. Yet another reason not to return to the flat: no plates or cups.

Once dressed, having studiously ignored Ianto's clothing in my closet, I dialed Tosh's mobile. "He's starting tomorrow," I told her, not bothering with a greeting, not caring it was the middle of the night and I might have woken her. "Seven. Can you get a profile ready for him and a program to monitor everything he does?"

"I take it he hasn't come clean?" she asked.

"He's willing to leave me to do whatever it is." I could hear the tightness of suppressed sobs in my voice.

"He left you?"

"He wouldn't take no for an answer. I suggested a different job. I offered him a flat. He didn't want any of it. He just wants to work for Torchwood, and even though I spelled it out that we couldn't continue as lovers, he still wouldn't budge. So I kicked him out. I can't risk sleeping with an employee. I just can't. I've seen Torchwood directors make too many mistakes that way, too many people died because of it. I won't let people die because of my sex life."

"Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered. "Tell the others to be at the Hub by six for a briefing."

With a heavy heart I grabbed the few personal belongings I wanted to keep, as well as Ianto's psych report, and left the flat.