Disclaimer: Okay, honestly. If I owned Jack, Ianto, or anyone from Torchwood, would I really have to write fanfiction to give them the bloody date I wanted them to have? No. So it's kind of obvious that I don't own, so don't sue. xoxo.
Rating: T. They get all macky in this chapter, so if you're offended by that, I guess I'm sorry, but..you had to have seen that coming.
Acknowledgements: As always, Robert has been my biggest help with this chapter, as he's my lovely beta. But this time around, I also had some help from two very lovely people on Tumblr. So many thanks go to Pearl and another lovely human I know only as remuslives23, who helped me figure out just how Ianto would taste. And I would like to thank Andrew for aiding in my pigmentally-challenged quest to figure out which gemstone to use to describe Jack's eyes.
Note: Okay, I honestly hate James Bond films, with the exception of Quantum of Solace. Or maybe it was Casino Royale. Whichever it was, I liked that one. That being said, I've got no idea about the accuracy of the movie's details, so please don't kill me (I honestly only know the title sequence because I looked it up on YouTube). Also, I'm not making excuses for this being so god-awfully late, but I'll just say that I hate my writing program and I want to kick it in the face because I had to rewrite this from the beginning at least six, maybe seven, times. Thank you all for putting up with my failure to be consistent in updating time, though! It makes me feel like you actually love me and this story.
The second bottle of wine was finished, the cups of coffee that paired with dessert were empty, and one garnet-coloured raspberry remained in a small puddle of decorative syrup. Jack picked it up gingerly, pressing it to Ianto's lips. A tiny ruby bead glided from the fruit and slipped down the contours and ridges that made up his fingers, finding a new place in the crevice between them.
Ianto took it meekly, watching Jack lick the drip of the berry's juice from his digits. It was sweet and a little bitter, and it seemed to melt on his tongue the instant they came in contact with one another. Ianto grinned, allowing himself to savour it, taste buds taking in every little detail of the fruit. The two held eye contact the entire time, Ianto's sapphires locked on Jack's blue diamonds. They spoke softly to each other, touching fingertips gently. It was an entirely chaste display of affection; something strange, but definitely welcome.
Jack heard nothing but the sound of Ianto's voice as he rambled about his love for James Bond. He poured His father had all the novels in awful condition. The spines were breaking, the pages were yellow, and some of them had been damaged in a flood of the basement. Nevertheless, his father kept them, perhaps for sentimental value.
Ianto explained that he had been a rather exuberant child. He was sociable, for the most part. But there were those times when he just wanted to be with himself and the imaginary, exciting worlds that thrived between the flaking covers. The books smelled like mildew, and every time he opened one, he gagged a little, but he let his eyes scan the tiny black print regardless of the odour.
James Bond had been his idol.
"A couple months before my sixth birthday, my dad took me to see License to Kill at the cinema," Ianto gushed. "My mum was mad at him for a week."
"Isn't that a bit of a dark movie for a kid to see?" Jack asked, taking a shot in the dark. He had never seen any of the Bond films. He'd read reviews and made plans to see them, but never got there.
"Yeah," Ianto admitted, "but I loved it. That was the first time I'd seen a James Bond movie on a really big screen. That was kind of all I cared about." He grinned.
"Which one's your favourite?"
"On Her Majesty's Secret Service."
Jack nodded, making a mental note, then attempted to remember if that was the title he'd picked for this evening. He looked down at his watch and stood, grabbing the bill. "We gotta go; we'll be late."
"For?" Ianto questioned, following Jack to the register.
"The movie."
Jack paid the bill, careful not to let Ianto see how much they'd spent. He slipped his coat on and placed one hand on the small of Ianto's back, guiding him out the door and into the cool Welsh crepuscule.
The cinema was only a few blocks away, and Jack had timed it so they had time to walk. However, they ended up talking through dinner and two bottles of wine and it had eaten into his walking plans. He pushed the helmet down on Ianto's head gently and grinned. "Think you can handle another ride on my motorbike?"
"Of course," Ianto agreed with a smile, flipping the visor down. He watched Jack get himself into place, then took his own spot behind him. He wasn't shy this time around. He leaned forward, his chest and stomach nestling close to Jack's body, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
Jack kicked the bike into gear, taking off down the street. Ianto straightened slightly when they had gotten up to speed, and stretched to look at the speedometer. He drew in a breath, brain interpreting that Jack was going dangerously fast. The operator only laughed, making a hard turn onto one of the side streets, zipping down a dark street.
They arrived within a few minutes. Jack let his arm snake around Ianto's waist, gently pulling the other man's body closer to his own, though not close enough to make the motion appear contrived or controlling. Ianto blushed, greeting the affectionate gesture with a small smile. Jack flashed a trademark grin as they walked through the entry to the corridor that held the screen rooms.
"Excuse me," came a female voice. Or perhaps it was male. Jack wasn't sure. He turned to see a short, kinky-haired, bespectacled woman dressed in cinema-worker's attire. It wasn't flattering on her stocky figure, but she couldn't help that, Jack realized. Blue polos with white ties and black slacks didn't look good on anyone.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry, I just need your tickets for a moment."
"Oh, right." Jack had forgotten about that. He pulled two slips out of his pocket and handed them to her.
"Good choice in movies," she mused, tearing the stubs. She handed the souvenir pieces back to the Captain, who returned them to their former place.
"Thanks," he responded with a smile.
"You're in screen room seven. Enjoy the film, guys."
Ianto nodded politely and thanked her softly while Jack patted her shoulder and told her to have a good night, a wish she returned with a cheery smile before she continued her work.
"Oh, miss?" he asked, stopping as he looked down the halls. "Which way do we go?"
"To the left, all the way at the end. You can't miss it."
Jack nodded and waved goodbye, guiding Ianto down the hall. "Close your eyes," he said.
"What? Jack, I won't be able to see."
"Do you trust me?"
"Well, yeah, but—"
"Just close your eyes, okay?"
Ianto did as he was told with a sigh. Jack placed his hand firmly over his face, leading him into the screen room. Once inside, he removed his hand. The cinema ads were still playing. Good.
They took their seats toward the back of the room. Within a few minutes, the lights went down. The previews for all sorts of new movies coming in the next year flashed on the screen. Each one, Ianto made a note in his head, deciding which movies to see when they came out.
After the obligatory ten minutes of new movie announcements, a beeping, science-fiction-esque noise emanated from the surrounding speakers. A white dot moved across a black screen smoothly, proudly displaying that this was a Harry Saltzman and Albert R. Brooks production.
Ianto knew exactly what it was. "Oh my God, Jack," he breathed, grin spreading on his face as James Bond's silhouette moved through a scope, turned, and fired a shot that made the screen run an aging, rusty hue."You actually got a showing to Dr. No. I can't believe it! This movie's ancient; how'd you do it?"
Jack smiled. He'd never seen Ianto that happy about anything—not even coffee."That's not important." He pressed a gentle kiss to Ianto's temple, then straightened and turned his attention to the screen. "Just enjoy it."
The first bit of dialogue hit and Ianto was already mouthing the words. His eyes twinkled in delight, almost as though he were reverted to his childhood, seeing the film for the first time. Jack couldn't help but glance and see that youthful enthralment on his face, smiling to himself as he watched Ianto's happy motions; his lips moving as he recited every word from memory.
Approximately twenty minutes into the movie, Ianto laid his head on Jack's shoulder. The wool of his coat scratched against his face slightly, but he really didn't mind. It was more than comfortable; like laying on a pillow. Jack's shoulders weren't pointed or bony, and that made for an excellent place to lay one's head. Ianto nuzzled his head slightly, finding its ideal position
Once Ianto had stopped moving, Jack lay his own head like a blanket over the younger man's. It was then he had really taken in the scents that created him.
It was hard to describe. He smelled of coffee, Jack thought, and a little like maple syrup and brown sugar. A very interesting scent indeed, but hard to place. Jack inhaled deeply, taking in every sweet scent he could detect over the smell of stale popcorn and spilled Coke. He had been doing this for quite some time, he realized, as the last thing he had actually paid attention to on screen was James Bond receiving his mission. Now, the screen played the secret agent with a woman, who Jack assumed Bond was going to have sex with.
It seemed like as appropriate a time as ever, he supposed.
Jack sat up, removing his head from the warmth caused by Ianto's hair. His arm had snaked around Ianto's shoulders and he moved his hand to play with the short brown hairs at the very base of the teaboy's neck. Ianto rolled his eyes up to look at him. Jack's head was cocked just slightly in Ianto's direction. Those diamonds were cast down at him. A content and peaceful smile cultivated on his lips. Jack's free hand found its way to Ianto's chin. He tipped it gently, just enough to be comfortable as he leaned in and touched his date's lips with his own.
The kiss was tender and sweet, and Jack could still taste the faint remnants of the wine, the pannacotta, the raspberries... And the flavours that were always there. Ianto had a distinctive taste, Jack found. He was permanently coffee-flavoured. But there were traces of mint and salt and something else that Jack couldn't place. It was mysterious and strictly Ianto; he'd never tasted anything like that element. And it kept him coming back for more.
Ianto moved closer, his lips moving to lock Jack's bottom lip between them. He felt fingers backcombing his hair, twisting a little in the threads. His held breath passed through his nose. Shortly after, he quickly inhaled Jack's scent, a mix of some of the strongest scents one could find on Earth, most prominently orange and cinnamon.
He still swore it was some sort of aftershave or cologne. No way were human pheromones that strong; that effective.
Jack moved to push the armrest up and pulled Ianto closer. One arm found its way to the small of his back. The opposite hand travelled from his lover's chin ever slightly, cupping Ianto's face, fingers brushing gingerly on his skin.
They stayed connected to each other, lips pressed together, tongues gently wrestling. No longer could either of them hear the movie, as all of their surroundings melted away into a blur; the only audible sounds were that of their breaths, the gentle detachments and reattachments of lips, and a tiny moan from Ianto, which had seemed to resonate significantly louder to them than it had to anyone else within an earshot. They couldn't see anything of their environment—not even the flickering of the bright light from the screen as the scenes changed—through lightly shut eyelids; it was absolute black.
There was nothing but the two of them, joined together in what Ianto had considered the best kiss he'd ever had, with Jack or anyone else. It was gentle and sweet and, dare he even think it, loving. But at the same time, it was lusty and firey and sultry. Just the taste of him kept Jack coming back for more, Jack's talents left him hot and bothered, wanting, wanting more.
After what felt to be forever, they pulled away from one another, chests rising and falling gently as the pair attempted to steady their breaths. Their bodies had twisted to face one another, and Jack allowed his eyes to shift along Ianto's features, carefully scanning each detail. He leaned in for one more kiss, this time soft and chaste. No lusting desire, no tongue...just an affectionate touch of the lips that ended as quickly as it had begun.
Ianto smiled and shifted his body back toward the screen. Jack followed suit and pulled the young man close, wrapping his arm tightly around his shoulders once more as Ianto allowed his head to fall against Jack's chest.
He could hear the steady thump, thump, thump of Jack's heart. In that moment, everything was right in the world.
Ianto pulled his legs closer to Jack's, their knees just barely touching, and turned his attention back to the movie, enjoying the constant stroking motion on his shoulder from Jack's thumb.