IX.
Warning for angst, light smut, and some language ahead. It's Jack and Ianto, it was inevitable!
Ianto let his head fall hard against the window as he realized what he had done. He had made good on his promise to stand by and watch Jack suffer, and for a brief moment it had been glorious. And then his mum had called, and with a sense of devastating shock and disbelief he had understood his mistake. So he'd gone back. He'd saved Mandy, saved Jack, stranded the Savior, and destroyed the portal. And then, of all things, when Jack had asked him why, all Ianto could say was, 'Kiss me."
He knocked his head against the window, hating himself. What the hell had he been thinking? 'Kiss me'? It was worse than some pathetic Mills and Boon bodice ripper, and he regretted not only saying it, but then leaning forward to kiss Jack before he could even answer. The look on Jack's face had not been one of lust and desire, but shock and wariness. He'd put off Ianto's offer, claiming work relationships were never a good thing. Knowing from experience that a working relationship was the last thing he ever wanted again, Ianto had very calmly told him he wasn't looking for a relationship. He only wanted sex.
Wasn't that what Jack Harkness was all about, after all? Casual sex without the complications? Jack had reluctantly agreed—just this once. And yet now Ianto wanted nothing more than to take it all back, to flee upstairs to his flat and have a right good tantrum before drinking himself into oblivion. He couldn't do this, not with Jack. He hated Jack. Yes, he'd gone back to save him, but that was because he'd realized what he'd done was wrong. It was beyond wrong, it was despicable. Jack was his boss, sometimes even his friend, and Ianto had knowingly sent him into slavery on an alien planet. What kind of person did that, even to someone they hated, someone who had killed their girlfriend?
Shaking his head, Ianto reminded himself that Jack had not killed Lisa. Jack had killed the Cyber-being who had taken over Lisa. In some ways, he had saved Lisa when Ianto couldn't. Ianto had failed to save the woman he loved, and Jack had. And he hated Jack all over again for that, even while he hated himself even more for failing. Saving Jack or Mandy or his mum didn't make up for it; he was beyond redemption.
He saw his building ahead and motioned at Jack to stop. "You can pull over here and let me out," he said. "I need to go, get out, get away…I'm sorry…" He practically threw himself out of the car, slamming the door behind him and ignoring Jack's calls. Striding single-mindedly to the door, he fumbled for his keys, swearing when he couldn't find them, wondering if he'd left them in SUV, or lost them at the pub. He glanced up and saw that Jack had somehow found a place to park and was striding toward him, looking both angry and concerned.
"What the hell was that about?" Jack demanded, hands on his hips. "Because if you're thinking about running now, you missed your chance."
Ianto stared at him, until he abruptly remembered that his keys were in an inside jacket pocket. Turning without a word, he let himself into the building, panic and anger and fear building within his chest, his heart racing and his chest tight. He wished Jack would leave so he could break down in private, but the man stuck his foot in the door and followed him inside. Ianto felt something within him begin to break again.
"Leave me alone," he snarled, pushing Jack away from him. To his surprise, Jack pushed him back, though more in self-defense than to hurt.
"No," Jack snapped back. "Not after what happened back there…at the pub, in the car. What's going on, Ianto? Talk to me!"
Ianto turned on him once more, knowing it was useless to resist, but he wasn't going to fight Jack in the hall. He stormed up to his flat, ignoring the man behind him, and hurried inside, tossing his keys on a table and his coat on a nearby chair. Striding straight into the kitchen, he grabbed a glass and bottle of vodka and poured himself a double, not bothering to offer Jack anything. He was too rattled—angry, upset, terrified—to speak.
"Not going to share?" Jack asked, his tone somewhere between light teasing and bitter sarcasm. Ianto slid the bottle across the counter to him. Jack glanced around as if looking for a glass, then picked it up and took a sip straight from the bottle. Ianto bit back a snort and let his head fall against the cabinets, his eyes closed.
"What's wrong?" Jack finally asked. Ianto opened his eyes to find Jack watching him, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against Ianto's table. At some point he'd removed his great coat, as if he were staying. As if they were actually going to—
Ianto laughed. "What isn't wrong? My life is a disaster, and it only keeps getting worse. You killed my girlfriend, I try to kill you, and the next thing I know I'm kissing you in the SUV. What kind of sick, twisted person am I, Jack? To do the things I've done these last months? Tonight?"
He finished his drink and poured another. Jack watched him warily, as if keeping an eye out for his well-being. Ianto wished he'd leave so he could finish the bottle. It might not be enough to kill him, but he still had some of those pills from the beating he'd had in the Beacons…maybe if he took enough of those, he'd manage it right this time…
"You're a human being," Jack replied carefully. "A man who's been through too much, who's trying to find his way."
"I'm not wandering in the dark, Jack," Ianto snapped. "I'm lost in hell, and there's no way out."
Jack frowned as Ianto finished half his drink. "Ianto, I know it seems bad right now, but—"
"But what? But it will get better? When? When will it get better, Jack? You keep saying these…these mindless platitudes, but it never happens!"
Jack set his jaw to speak, but Ianto stopped him. "It doesn't get any better than this, it gets worse. Look at my life. I've spent weeks going to that pub, only to find the woman running it wants to sell me into slavery! How does that happen? Why?"
"It's like you said," Jack replied. "The world is broken, just like us. All we can do is try to survive."
"Survive?" Ianto finished his drink and laughed bitterly. "Maybe I don't want to survive anymore then. I used to have a life, before I came here. Now I have nothing."
Jack stepped forward, shaking his head. "Don't talk like that," he said sharply. "You have more than you think. You have your family, and us, the team, and me—"
"You?" Ianto asked incredulously. "Jack, I have no idea why you're even here after what I did tonight. And not only at the pub, but in the SUV. What kind of man tries to kill their boss and sleep with them after?"
"A surprisingly kinky one?" Jack suggested. Ianto rolled his eyes and poured himself another drink. Jack frowned. "Don't you think you've had enough?"
Ianto eyed the bottle. "No, there's still some left."
"Is that what you did when we came back from the Beacons?" Jack asked, crossing his arms over his chest again. "Tried to drink yourself to death at the pub?"
"No," Ianto replied. "I tried it with the pills Owen gave me. Didn't work, obviously. Sorry about that."
"Mandy?"
He nodded and left the kitchen, not wanting to talk about that particular night. Jack followed him and sat on the sofa, arms sprawled across the back. "So what happened?"
"I shouldn't have called her," said Ianto. "Maybe I wouldn't be in this mess if I'd been able to do it right that night. Or tonight." He frowned as his anger and self-loathing found a new direction. "Why did you come back? I told you I was going to handle it."
"By throwing yourself through the Rift?" Jack asked. "It's a good thing I did, or you'd be on the other side of the galaxy right now, sold to the highest bidder."
"At least I wouldn't be here, living this life," Ianto hissed, his eyes slipping closed. "You should have let me die. You should have killed me."
"Killed you when?" Jack asked, his voice suddenly sharp. "Tonight? Or the night your girlfriend killed two people? There was enough death that night."
"Yet you still killed her," Ianto pointed out, feeling surprisingly rational as he stopped pacing. "You told me to go in and execute her, and when I couldn't, you did."
"I had to," Jack said. "She was dangerous."
"I know that," Ianto replied wearily, and Jack's face showed surprise. "But you didn't even try to save her. You didn't listen, you didn't give her a chance, you didn't care." He felt the anger returning and continued walking back and forth. "I tried to save her, and I failed. And I will have to live with that forever. But you didn't even try."
"There was nothing I could do," Jack started, but Ianto cut him off with a savage jerk of his arm.
"I don't care. I went back for you tonight," Ianto said. "I tried to save you, even after you killed her. And you know what? I have no idea why."
Jack stood, his own anger now evident. "Look, I don't expect you to thank me for stopping you from walking through that portal, but you can stop with the rest of this bullshit. Just because you came back for me doesn't make you some sort of saint."
Ianto sneered and turned away. "Of course it doesn't. I'm no saint. I have no idea why I went back, other than I knew it was wrong, and I couldn't live with that. I couldn't leave you there, knowing I'd done that to you and not tried…. and yet you forgave me…again…" He fisted his hands over his eyes. "God, I hate you for that, for all of it."
"Hit me," Jack said, an ugly echo of Ianto's words in the SUV. "You could hit me, if you wanted. I know you've got a hell of a right hook, but I can take it."
Ianto threw his head back and laughed. "I don't need to hit you. I watched you suffer and die, like I promised that night, when Lisa died."
"And yet you came back," Jack murmured. "Because you hated it."
"I loved it," Ianto snapped back.
"So punch me," Jack said. "Look, we need to work this out. You're obviously still holding on to a lot resentment about that night."
"You think?" Ianto asked bitterly.
"Let it out. You hate me, I get it. Torchwood ruined your life, and I'm Torchwood. Go ahead and blame me."
Ianto stared at him. "What?"
"Why not?" Jack asked. Ianto wasn't sure if Jack was genuinely wound up or trying to provoke him into a bigger confrontation. "It's my fault, isn't it? My fault that Lisa died, my fault that we got captured by cannibals, my fault that Tosh got conned by an alien. My fault that you were about to walk into the Rift. It's all my fault."
"You're right." Ianto nodded slowly. "It's your fault. You're the problem. I should have left you there!"
Jack laughed. "You should have. I'm the captain, and you know what? I don't know what the hell I'm doing most of the time! It's always my fault. I ruin lives every week, and I have to live with that. And my own?" He shook his head. "You don't even want to know what my life is really like. Because like I said in the car—we're all broken. We're all wandering through the darkness, lost and alone. You've suffered for a few months, while I—" He cut himself off, breathing heavily. "You're not the only one who wants it to end, Ianto."
Ianto knew his anger was righteous and perhaps even wrong, that he should at least try to give Jack the benefit of the doubt, find that place within him that empathized and understood, but he couldn't. Not then. It wasn't about Jack at that moment, yet as usual the man made it about him.
"You're pathetic," Ianto said, his voice remarkably even. "You stand there and complain about being in charge, about your poor, sorry life, but it's not about you, Jack, not this time. You always think it is. I lost everything in London, and you took the last thing I had of my old life away from me, and there is nothing here for me anymore, no matter what you say."
"Now who's pathetic?" Jack asked. "You think you're the only one who's lost someone, who's suffering, but you're not. So gain a little perspective and get off your fucking high horse because—"
He never finished, because Ianto pulled his arm back and hit him, just like Jack had invited him to minutes earlier. Which was probably why Jack didn't seem all that surprised and moved with the punch, so that it didn't have quite the same effect as when Ianto had hit him the night Lisa had died. But unlike that night, there was no one else there to stop them, and after rubbing his jaw, Jack stood up straight and hit him back.
In spite of all the alcohol he'd had that night, Ianto's reflexes were still working, though not as quick as usual. He swerved to the side, Jack's fist catching him in a glancing blow on his chin, enough to rattle him but not draw blood. They stood for a moment facing one another, breathing heavily as they began to circle like predators fighting for control. Ianto felt his blood rushing in his ears, and sensed Jack was waiting for him to make the next move, so he did.
He rushed at Jack, ramming his shoulder into his chest and slamming him against the wall behind them. His arm came up, elbow pressed against Jack's neck, though not hard enough to choke him yet. Ianto felt his lips curl into a sneer of both anger and pain as he hissed in Jack's face.
"Don't tell me what to think, what to do, what to feel. I'm done with being told how to deal with my life."
Jack grinned wolfishly at him. "Because then you couldn't use sex, or alcohol, or even violence to take away the pain." Ianto felt like he'd been kicked in the gut; he dropped his arm and stepped away.
"Fuck you," he said, shaking his head. "And get out."
Jack stalked him, moving closer, but Ianto stood his ground and met Jack's gaze. He couldn't read what he saw there, but thought there was pain, and desire, and the same sort of emptiness Ianto felt. "If that's what you really want," he said. "But I'm not leaving if you're going to top yourself instead."
Ianto frowned. "What?"
Jack pressed his chest again Ianto's, his face inches from Ianto's lips. He could feel the heat of Jack against him and almost groaned with the unexpected wave of desire that washed over him. What was wrong with him? He'd shouted at Jack, pushed him, punched him, choked him, and now all he could think about was grabbing him and kissing him, ofrunning his hands all over that same body he'd just abused. Maybe that was what Jack wanted too.
"I'm not going to lose you," Jack murmured. "You are worth saving."
"I'm not," Ianto whispered. "Not anymore." He was still staring at Jack's lips when Jack's hand came up to his cheek.
"You are," he insisted.
"You can't save me," Ianto said.
"I can try."
He leaned forward and kissed Ianto, strong and insistent, both searching for and promising more. Ianto gasped once and gave himself over to it—to the attraction they'd danced around from the moment they'd met, to the desire that had simmered beneath the surface since that night. It was hot and messy, but it was connection and comfort. It felt both completely right and utterly wrong, but for once in his life Ianto refused to label it, to pick a side. Kissing Jack was what he wanted, what he needed, for good or ill.
They fell back against the wall, pushing and pulling for dominance as their hands roamed those places they'd longed to go for so long. Buttons were undone and shirts tossed aside; they pressed bare chests together, still kissing hungrily, with no thought of taking it elsewhere, of getting more comfortable. No, this was too immediate, too intense, and neither wanted to waste time with niceties like a bed or other horizontal surface.
Which was fine with Ianto. It was ridiculous, standing in the middle of his flat against the wall, but he didn't care. Too quickly they began to lose their rhythm, hips snapping forward almost of their own accord as their need for release grew.
Jack came first, filling Ianto's hand with warmth as he groaned loud and low. Ianto felt a strong sense of satisfaction, knowing he could do that to a man like Jack, but his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp burst of pain Jack as began sucking a love bite into a sensitive spot behind his ear, and Ianto swore as he cried out Jack's name and emptied himself into Jack's hand. He was breathing quick and let his head fall back against the wall behind him as he tried to slow his racing heart. Apparently at some point they'd switched places, and Ianto was glad for the support as his legs were shaky and weak.
Ianto knew it wasn't over, not by a long shot: he wanted more. Catching his breath, he stepped forward, plundering Jack's mouth with his tongue. Jack grinned against him and returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm. But they gradually slowed down, taking their time to enjoy something as simple as a kiss, relaxing and discovering what the other enjoyed as opposed to frantically chasing their own gratification.
It wasn't long before Ianto felt Jack's renewed arousal against his thigh, but he didn't want a second quick shag against the wall. He wanted a bed, cool sheets against his bare skin, dim lights masking their passion in shadows, hour after hour, until they collapsed from spent exhaustion.
Placing his hands against Jack's chest, he pulled away with a gentle nip to the man's lower lip. Jack's eyes were closed and he subconsciously leaned forward and followed Ianto, trying to continue the kiss. Ianto smiled to himself and began to step out of his remaining clothing; he wasn't about to ruin such a highly-charged moment by tripping over himself.
Jack's eyes opened slowly, first dazed, then confused, then sad. He stepped away, inhaling deeply as if to settle his own racing heart. "Time's up, then," he said. "Feel better?"
Ianto felt his lip curl into a smirk. "Yes," he replied. "But not enough." He raised an eyebrow, the suggestion obvious.
"Not enough?" Jack asked, a grin beginning to spread across his face. "Normally I'd be offended, but right now I like the sound of that."
"How about somewhere more comfortable," Ianto suggested, nodding behind Jack toward his bedroom. "More conducive to…additional activities." He stepped around Jack and held out his hand, knowing an invitation was the only way Jack would follow.
"You're sure you want this?" Jack asked.
"I'm more sure of this than of anything else that's happened tonight," Ianto replied. Jack nodded and stepped out of his clothing, taking Ianto's hand and following him to the bedroom, where they fell to the bed in a grappling, gasping tangle of greedy fingers and hungry lips, desperate to experience all they could before morning.
Ianto discovered as much about himself as he did about Jack that night, but most importantly, he realized he'd finally crossed that proverbial line between love and hate. He didn't love Jack—he never would—but he didn't hate him either, not anymore. It seemed passionate emotions could be directed toward far more enjoyable outlets, and if there was one thing he regretted about their long and fiery night together, it was that he'd agreed it was only just this once.
Because once wasn't enough.
Author's Note:
I hope you enjoyed this one! I think it might be one of the more likely ones, because I still wonder how Ianto can go from condemning Jack to sleeping with him. And I think there must have been some serious self-reflection about it, if not self-loathing as well. I cut quite a bit of the smut for this site's rating, so if you'd like to read a bit more ahem detailed version, you can find it at AO3. Enjoy! There are three more chapters to go, but they'll be a bit more spread out as I'm still working on them and these all popped out pretty much at once. Thank you for reading!