VIII.

When Jack started the car again, he put it in reverse; fortunately, there was no one behind him, or they might have been dealing with an embarrassing car accident as opposed to enjoying a long, hot shag. With a sheepish grin, he put the SUV in drive and continued toward Ianto's flat. Neither said much, and the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Just very quiet. Jack tried not to think about whether or not they were making a monumental mistake.

They walked up to the door, where Ianto patted his pockets, checked his suit coat, then let his head fall back with a curse.

"Lost my keys," he said. "Of all nights, tonight I lost my keys."

"Spare?" Jack asked. "You know, hidden in a rock or something?"

"Nope," Ianto replied. "Didn't think I'd be here long enough." He glanced away at the admission, shaking his head. "I bet they're on another planet right now. I lost my bloody keys in the Rift."

"Could be worse," Jack replied. He held up his wrist and began working with his vortex manipulator. "You could be standing out here alone, instead of with a gorgeous guy who can do this."

He pressed a button…and nothing happened. Ianto raised an eyebrow; Jack tried again. Still nothing.

"I suppose I could break a window," Ianto offered.

"No, hang on," Jack replied, refusing to give in to embarrassment or despair. "This usually works. What the hell kind of lock is this?"

"The one that came with the flat," Ianto shrugged. "Besides, how does your wrist strap break locks? I thought it worked with digital data."

"It uses sound waves to manipulate the lock into opening," Jack replied, tongue out as he tried yet again. "It's a question of finding the right frequency."

"Seriously?" Ianto asked, sounding extremely skeptical. With a loud click, the lock popped open.

"Seriously," said Jack with a relieved grin. He motioned Ianto inside. "After you."

He followed Ianto into the dark flat, swearing when he immediately walked into something large and tall. There was a crash followed by a hiss, and something shot out the door from between his legs.

"You have a cat?" Jack asked in surprise.

"My neighbor has a cat who likes to sneak into other people's flats." Ianto flicked on a light and sighed when he saw a broken vase on the floor next to the sofa table. "I don't know how he gets in, but I've actually woken up with him on my pillow."

"Creepy," said Jack and Ianto nodded.

"Very."

"I'm sorry about the vase," Jack said, feeling suddenly awkward. "Was it—"

"It's nothing," Ianto replied quickly, gazing around, equally uncomfortable. "Well, this is it. Er, would you like a drink?"

Jack nodded, opened his mouth to reply, and sneezed. Again, and again. Ianto frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Jack replied before another violent sneeze made him a liar.

"Are you allergic to cats?" Ianto asked.

"Never was before," Jack replied.

"It's a British longhair," Ianto replied. "Drags in the dirt and sheds like mad, so that could be it."

Jack shook his head, but he obviously couldn't tell Ianto that of course he wasn't allergic to cats, he'd been around them for decades and not had any problems, and besides allergies didn't even exist in his time. Plus, he tended toward obscenely healthy thanks to his unique situation. He sneezed again and asked for some tissue.

"Antihistamine?" Ianto offered, but Jack shook his head again. He blew his nose a few times and followed Ianto into the kitchen. He began to fix them some coffee, but stopped and frowned; searching through his cabinets, he swore when he found only a package of instant. With a sheepish look, he added a generous shot of whiskey to each. As he turned to hand Jack his mug, he knocked the other off the counter.

"Shit," Ianto breathed out on a long sigh. Nothing was going right; it was as if since the moment they'd kissed, they were cursed. Jack started to wonder if perhaps their tryst was not meant to be.

"Need help?" Jack asked, setting his drink down carefully.

"No, it's fine. I can get it quicker." He began cleaning up the mess, only to cut himself on a shard of ceramic. With another vehement curse, he rinsed his hand before heading to the bathroom to wrap it. Jack finished cleaning up, proving he was perfectly capable, then sat down to wait, wondering what else might go wrong. When Ianto returned, he poured himself a straight shot of whisky.

"Liquid courage?" Jack asked. Ianto took a sip of his drink and began coughing hard enough that Jack stood to thump him on the back. When he'd regained his breath, Ianto shook his head and started laughing, albeit rather weakly.

"This is not going at all like I thought it would," he said. "You're sneezing and I'm bleeding and we're drinking instant coffee in my kitchen."

"Could be kinky," Jack replied with a wag of his eyebrows. "Look, if you—"

He was interrupted by his phone going off. It was Gwen, and she wanted to know what she was doing going through missing persons information in the middle of the night and if she couldn't finish in the morning.

Checking his watch only to find that it had stopped, Jack was surprised to glance at the microwave and see that it was almost midnight. "Go home, Gwen. We've got it sorted."

He paused to listen, shook his head even though she couldn't see him. "No, Ianto and I checked it out. Everything's fine." He rolled his eyes at Ianto, who finished his drink with small smirk. "No, I'm not coming back right now. Go home to your boyfriend. We'll see you in the morning."

He hung up on her right before his phone died. With an exasperated sigh, he finished his coffee and held out his mug for a shot of whisky. Ianto poured one for them both.

"Hell of a night," Jack offered, thinking it was the understatement of the year. Ianto snorted.

"Believe it or not, I've had worse," he replied.

"Really?" Jack asked, surprised. "Because I would have thought this was right up there."

"Do you mean the alien slaver at the pub or the incredibly awkward aftermath?" Ianto asked dryly.

"Both?"

They shared a grin, Ianto poured them another shot, and they sat in silence for a long moment. Jack had stopped sneezing and Ianto wasn't coughing or bleeding; nothing had broken since the mug and no one else called. Perhaps it was time to move things forward, only sitting across from one another at the table made it hard.

Jack was saved from trying to figure out a way to bring it up when Ianto stood to rinse his glass. Jack immediately followed with his own, and when Ianto turned around, he leaned forward and kissed him. Ianto seemed surprised at first, but quickly deepened the kiss. They bumped noses several times as they tried to find the right angle, like teenagers in the back seat of a crowded car.

Jack wrapped one hand around the back of Ianto's head, letting his fingers run through the Welshman's short hair as he nibbled on Ianto's lower lip. He must have bit too hard, because Ianto inhaled sharply and pulled back, his hand going to his mouth and coming away with a spot of blood. He stared at it while Jack swore in his head.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping back, but Ianto shook his head, pressed him against the wall behind them, and kissed him with uninhibited passion. Jack groaned even as his head hit the wall.

Within moments they were grasping at clothing. Jack reached for Ianto's tie while the other man undid his braces, then his belt, then his zipper. Only the zipper didn't work; Ianto tugged, and tugged again, breaking the kiss to look down at the same moment Jack tried to raise the loose tie over his head. It caught on his nose instead, and Jack dropped it out of instinct, his hands going to his pants. Ianto's hands left Jack's fly to rub his nose, and for a moment they both stared at one another before they burst into laughter. Ianto stepped away, straightening his shirt.

"This isn't working, is it?" he asked, shaking his head with a rueful look.

"Not exactly," Jack replied, reaching down to tug at his zip, but it was stuck fast and going nowhere. Which was when he realized that he wasn't actually that hard, even though he was definitely turned on by the fiery kiss and wanted more. He wondered if Ianto was in a similar state and decided his ego didn't need to know.

"Best not force it then," Ianto said lightly, thought Jack thought he heard disappointment in the other man's voice. He was disappointed himself. Ianto was a hell of a kisser, and after setting aside his initial reluctance in the car, Jack had been looking forward to exploring more with the Welshman. Apparently, the universe felt otherwise. Perhaps it was karma, the complicated history between them refusing to let them move on.

"Who knows what might happen if we did," Jack laughed. Ianto cocked his head.

"Well, I know what I was hoping might happen," he replied in that dry way he had, "but at this rate, I suspect someone might lose a limb instead."

Jack sighed. "Definitely not my kink," he said. They stood there awkwardly for a moment or two until Jack cleared his throat and spoken again. "I should probably get going then."

"You don't have to," Ianto replied, though he sounded like he had no idea what they would do otherwise, and Jack felt likewise.

"It's late," Jack said. "And probably for the best, considering we work together." He didn't believe it for a second, but felt he had to say something to take the sting off their failed night together.

"And have tried to kill each other," Ianto murmured. Jack stepped forward and kissed him, wishing they could continue, but knowing that it wasn't meant to be, not that night.

"Water under the bridge," he said. "I'll see you in the morning, right?"

"I'll be there," Ianto said, stepping back. "Assuming nothing else goes wrong."

"No, I think it's just us," Jack replied with forced levity. "You know, being together."

"That's reassuring," Ianto said. "But disappointing." He held Jack's gaze, and Jack nodded in understanding.

"Me too," he said. "Good night, Ianto."

"Good night, sir."

Jack grabbed his coat and let himself out without incident. He wanted more than anything to turn around and make it work, but it was obvious that nothing was going to happen that night. Finally tugging his zip back up, Jack stepped into the SUV and let his head fall to the steering wheel. Despite his comment about working together, Jack found himself hoping that their bad luck changed someday. Then they could try again, and maybe they'd even get to finish what they started.

Author's Note:
It's a bit similar to the last one, only it's not Torchwood interrupting them, it's everything else going wrong that I could think of (actually, I cut a few things!) The next one is twice as long and quite a bit steamier.