I wanna love you but I don't know if I can

Ianto stayed a long time on the roof. He saw Jack leaving with the Torchwood SUV into the early morning, and even though he knew he could come back to his flat, he didn't. He sat near the edge of the roof and put his head in his hands, cursing inwardly, fighting the panic attack from the fact that he was on a roof, and maybe for what had happened.

Things had been fine with Jack. Really fine. But Ianto had felt that stupid urge of telling Jack he loved him. He didn't mind Jack ignoring his love or not giving as much as Ianto gave, but he hadn't meant it to ruin everything they had. He already wanted Jack to come back, but he knew Jack probably wouldn't.

What does that even mean, "you don't know everything about me"? What did Ianto not know? And it wasn't as if Jack knew everything about him either.

Jack clearly was older than he looked and suggested, Ianto was sure of it. But not knowing his age didn't mean Ianto didn't know him. He knew how to read his face, he knew how Jack took his coffee, he knew he didn't like talking about his life but sometimes needed to, he knew he had lived and witnessed awful things, far more than what the Battle of Canary Wharf had been – which was saying something – he knew Jack wasn't the hero he would have wanted to be... Jack was flawed, he wasn't perfect, he wasn't always kind... and Ianto loved this. He loved everything about him. He wanted Jack to understand he didn't only love sex and good moments. He liked other moments, dark moments, he loved that Jack was coming to him when he felt bad. Ianto somehow felt special with Jack, and he especially didn't feel like a Canary Wharf's survivor.

Jack treated him like his equal, and Ianto needed this.

And now it seemed like he was gone. Ianto wasn't going to give up that easily, he wanted to talk with Jack, to explain that he understood, to explain that they could just forget everything and pretend Ianto had never said those damn stupid words, if that was what Jack wanted.

He didn't move until it was too cold for him to be able to stand on the roof. He went back inside and walked slowly back to his flat, searching for a lighter in a drawer when he arrived. He found one that didn't work any more, and sighed. He picked up his cigarettes from the kitchen table, threw the lighter in the bin, and went to his bedroom with a cigarette between his lips. He found a lighter there and breathed the smoke in, feeling his muscles relaxing a bit.

He paced in his bedroom for a while, then grabbed a new pack of cigarettes, lighting his third one already, and took his pacing to the living-room. He stopped to search for the TV remote control, but didn't find it, so he turned the TV on directly with the screen. He left it on the channel it was on, just to have a sound with him, and went back to his bedroom. He opened his night table's drawer, tried to ignore the presence of lube and condoms, which only were a reminder that Jack was supposed to be here. Not that he used the latter a lot, with Jack. He shook his head to put the thoughts away, and emptied the contents on his bed. He then took the bottom of the drawer off, which hid a small space, where he always kept drugs.

There, he stopped. He looked at the small amount of cocaine he had, and looked at his wardrobe, where he knew his needle was. But could he really do this? He looked at the crook of his elbow, where he still had bandages around the spot where the needle had broken into his skin. Owen had pulled it out, but it still could be painful.

Ianto felt tears prickling his eyes. It was easy. It was always so easy. He just had to reach out, take the drug, take the needle, prepare everything, and inject a small amount in his veins. He would feel better, so much better. But for how long? It was easy, but it was too easy.

He stared for a long time at the bottom of the drawer, and jumped when his phone buzzed. He had left it on his night table the day before. He sighed and took it, seeing he had a text from his sister.

"We love you – RJDM (yes, even J)"

He chuckled at the text, especially with the precision that even Johnny liked him, and didn't answer, locking the screen and throwing his phone on his bed. He ran his hands on his face and his hair, then let one on his neck, absently rubbing the skin.

Tears ran down his cheeks as he put the bottom of the drawer back to hide his drug and put everything back in it, then the drawer in its place. He breathed out and went back to the living-room, slamming the door behind him. He noticed he didn't have his phone with him, but he didn't want to go back to his bedroom, so he just went straight to his television to turn it off. He took another cigarette from a pack on the coffee table – he had a lot of packs just forgotten in some places and he sometimes took one cigarette from them – and turned on his stereo system.

He lay on his back on the sofa, eyes closed and his arm hiding half of his face. He let the music help him relax, as well as smoking, and soon dozed off on his couch, putting the cigarette he was currently smoking down so he could sleep a bit.

He felt like he slept a lot lately, but he was so tired of everything.

A bang on his door woke him up and he looked around, lost. He walked to the door and rubbed his eyes as the banging continued.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," he mumbled, probably not loud enough for the person on the other side to hear him.

Ianto looked at his watch as he opened the door, noticing that he had slept almost all night and that it was already 5 am. Which meant that only one person could be standing outside, banging at his door.

Jack stopped when Ianto appeared, hair dishevelled and an exhausted expression on. He might had just slept, but he hadn't really rested.

"Can I come in?" Jack asked.

Ianto didn't hesitate and let him come. They really needed to talk, so why not now. And at least Jack was the one coming, not Ianto.

Ianto walked up to his living-room and took the last cigarette from a pack. He tapped the butt on the pack then sighed and lit it up.

"Wow, can you breathe in there?" Jack tried to said casually, but it felt forced.

Ianto shrugged and opened a window, then sat on his couch again, smoking in silence. He rubbed his forehead and moved his leg nervously, but didn't say anything. When he put the cigarette in the ash tray, Jack took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry for coming so early," he said.

Ianto stood to shut his stereo system off, thinking it would be easier to talk, but regretted it instantly, the silence too heavy between them.

"I..." Jack said, then sighed in frustration.

"I understand, Jack," Ianto shook his head and turned to face Jack. And probably the words that would hurt him.

Jack looked miserable. Tired, exhausted, and nervous.

"No you don't," he said. "I'm sorry but no, you can't. I'm... fuck, Ianto, I want to but I don't know if I can allow myself this."

His hands were shaking while he waved them between them and he had trouble breathing calmly. Ianto scoffed, however.

"Stop your riddles, for fuck's sake!" Ianto snapped.

Sure, he wanted to set things right with Jack, but he really was tired of having to read between the lines, because he couldn't always do it with Jack.

"I'm immortal!" Jack spat.

It was something he hated and Ianto could feel it in the way he said it. Ianto blinked a few times. What? He surely had just misheard this.

"What?" He echoed his thought.

"I can't die," Jack repeated.

"Are you fucking serious? You didn't find better?" Ianto snorted. He didn't know if he really didn't believe Jack or just hoped it wasn't the truth.

"What, you just wanna hear me say it?" Jack asked, raising his voice. "Because I love you, Ianto Jones, but I don't think I fucking deserve you and I'm afraid of the day you'll die – and you will – because where does that leave me? What will I have left?! I'm fucking afraid of loving you because that means opening a wound and waiting for my immortality to throw salt at it."

Jack ran a shaking hand through his hair, tears forming in his eyes, and looked away. He sniffed then snorted.

"I better go," he said and turned to leave.

Ianto reached out instinctively and closed his hand on Jack's wrist.

"Stay," he whispered.

Time froze like this. Jack didn't turn around, he simply let his head fall to his chest. And Ianto just stood there, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say. Trying to understand what immortal meant. Well, of course, that Jack couldn't die. But at what extent? Did he grow old? Would he die one day?

Ianto stared, opened-mouth, at the back of Jack's head.

Jack eventually freed himself and slowly turned, looking right in his eyes, waiting for something.

"I die, but I come back," Jack said to break the silence. "Do you want this? Someone who can't die? Someone who will see you grow old and die?"

Ianto's heart broke in his chest and he tried to come up with something to say.

"It must hurt," he whispered thoughtfully.

Jack frowned, not expecting something like this. "Yeah," he shrugged as if it weren't a big deal.

"Do you feel it? Dying, I mean," Ianto asked.

He actually was curious about it, waiting for his brain to catch up with the information.

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "Not what you expected, right?"

"I don't know what to say," Ianto admitted as honestly as he could.

"I get it. Too much to take," Jack laughed bitterly.

Jack's reaction was hurting Ianto who shook his head.

"Don't be like this," Ianto said.

"Just..."

"It's not about you," Ianto interrupted him. "I don't mean that... huh... I don't care, Jack. It's about what I feel, what I want. So what? You can't die? Do you think I care? I do, but not for what you think – you not dying while I will, you being older than me... I care because that means you'll be alone, no matter how much time I want to spend with you, you'll end up... without me. But that's in a long time. Did you think I wouldn't want you because you're like this? Because you have tons of secrets? Because you have dark sides? I tried to fucking kill myself, Jack! This is... It's..."

Ianto stopped, because he didn't really know where his ideas were going, and he didn't find anything else to say. Jack was immortal, and it was overwhelming and... weird.

Jack stared at him.

"What?" Ianto asked, looking away.

"What?" Jack echoed.

"Already said it," Ianto smiled.

Jack shook his head.

"What do we do?" Jack asked, apparently lost.

"What do you want?" Ianto shrugged.

"You," Jack said, without hesitation. He then looked away. "If you-"

Ianto interrupted him by kissing him. They weren't used to talking that much, at least not about personal feelings, certainly not about the two of them, and Ianto had just missed him.

They stumbled backwards and Ianto managed to steady them by putting his hands against the wall, right before Jack bumped his head into it. They smiled against the other's mouth but didn't stop kissing. Ianto put his hands under Jack's coat and Jack followed his initiative, letting the coat slid from his shoulders. He reversed their positions so the cloth wouldn't bother him by not falling entirely, and pulled Ianto's shirt up. As they parted so Jack could entirely free Ianto from his shirt, they stopped for a moment, catching their breaths.

"You don't know how much that means to me," Jack said between their lips.

Ianto closed his eyes, his hands roaming Jack's body. He stopped at his chest and opened his eyes again, looking at Jack.

"We clearly are going to have a conversation about this," Ianto said.

"I know," Jack nodded.

He then tried to kiss Ianto again, but Ianto moved his head away.

"Really?" Ianto insisted, surprised he didn't have to convince Jack.

"Yeah," Jack smiled.

Ianto nodded, and kissed Jack briefly.

"Back to business then," Ianto chuckled.

Jack was about to reply, but Ianto kissed him again, gently biting his lower lip until he responded. Ianto unbuttoned Jack's shirt, pushing him against the opposite wall at the same time. They were now in the corridor. Jack rolled them over and they slowly made their way to Ianto's bedroom like this, bumping one or twice again a wall or a table, but laughing at it.

When Ianto opened his drawer to take the lube, he stopped briefly, knowing what was hidden beneath. Jack kissing his neck impatiently made him think of something else, and Ianto promised himself he would get rid of the drugs, some day. For now, he had more important things to do.

(Title from the song X and Y by Coldplay)

Okay so just when I thought nothing would slow me in posting this fic any more, I'm totally sick. Nice way to ruin my first week-end of the semester, ugh. But it's here! And only one chapter left, I don't think something will happen this time (God I hope nothing will happen!) so I should post by Wednesday or Thursday ;)

Jack's immortality (and especially Ianto's easy acceptance of it) was the one thing I absolutely wanted to mention but also really wished I had taken more time writing. I hope it's still good however; thanks a lot for your comments! The last chapter is more of an epilogue to conclude on some things.