AN: A pointless piece really, but just a conversation in the wake of Adrift.
It made a pleasant change to have a day off. The day was made infinitely better by the warm spring sunshine and light, fresh breeze coming off the Bristol Channel. Ianto had woken up early as normal but decided to stay in bed, just for the sake of it but after ten minutes of trying to relax he gave up the idea of a lie-in as a bad job. There were things to do. His flat needed a clean-up and he really needed to do his laundry, visit the dry cleaners and do some grocery shopping for Hub and home. Okay not so much of a day off then. He got out of bed and immediately tripped over an abandoned pile of clothes on the floor. Not his clothes and cursing he gathered up Jacks things and bundled them into the laundry basket by his chest of drawers. It was then he realised he could hear the shower going in the en-suit bathroom and was puzzled by the fact that Jack was in his house, using his bathroom when he should be in at the Hub. It was then he noticed that his hands were covered in blood and the spot where Jack had dumped his clothes on the floor now sported a large dark red stain on his nearly new carpet. Ianto was torn between being annoyed and upset and decided on the latter.
Jack must've died last night and come back here to clean up and recover himself before going back into work. As it was things were a little strained between them and Ianto wasn't quite sure where he stood with Jack. The Flat Holm business of the previous week had caused many things to be said, not all of them nice between the two of them. Ianto was feeling a gut churning mix of guilt and anger. Somehow they were carrying on as before, but not. It was most unsettling and Ianto really didn't know what to do or what to say about it. Ianto decided to forget about worrying over things, wash his hands and make coffee. He needed coffee and there was no doubt Jack would want some too before heading back into the Hub. He padded through his house in bare feet, hitching up his loose pyjama bottoms as he stood at the kitchen bench deciding which blend to make.
He was fully engrossed in his preparations when Jack stepped into kitchen and stood in the doorway, towelling at wet hair. Jack drank in the sight of Ianto's smooth and pale naked back and firm curves of his arse which was covered in blue cotton pants. He looked very much like the young man he actually was instead of the super-efficient office boy come field agent of Torchwood Cardiff. He watched as Ianto carefully selected measures of coffee beans from three different bags and added them to the grinder with pinches of spices from a half dozen different pots. Jack loved this ritual, the sight of Ianto raw and beautiful made his chest tighten and he realised as he watched that the feeling inside him was one of regret.
"You died again, didn't you?" There was deadness to the tone that matched the subject of Ianto's words.
Jack could only manage a shrug, which Ianto did not see.
"You tear strips off me for doing what I believed was the right thing and then you come here and leave your blood all over my carpets and expect me to…. Expect me to anchor you back in the land of the living in my bed. You treat your relationships like trinkets in airports, sufficient to lead you astray for a few moments, but not worth keeping after the holiday is done."
Jack frowned at Ianto's back, taken by surprise at the venom behind what the younger man was saying.
"Is that what you really think of me?"
Ianto swung round not entirely sure why he was saying this now. "No, it's how I feel Jack. I know I fucked up last week because I had no idea that Gwen would do what she did and I am sorry for Nikki Bevan's sake, but I will not apologise for what I did. You've always told me to hold on to my principles. It made me realise that we'd never be able to hold this thing together between us. I will always be fighting with you and you will always assume that I will just do as you tell me, no matter what." The anger was pouring off Ianto in waves. Jack could feel it like the unbearable pressure of an oncoming thunderstorm.
He wanted to leave, just turn away and forget the whole damn thing, because it hurt. Ianto's words cut through him deeply. His fingers tightened around the fabric of the towel gripped in his hands. He wasn't used to arguments of this nature, not since Lucia and they had battled one another fiercely in decades gone by. Did he really want to go through this again? Jack looked at Ianto, stood there rigid with tension his fists balled at his side.
Ianto had never looked more beautiful.
Jack did not know what to do.
The silence was all consuming.
It was Ianto who broke the impasse turning back to the coffee making; his shoulders slumped in apparent defeat.
Jack sighed. "Do you want me to go?"
"No Jack, this is your home as much as it is mine."
Since when?
Jack balked in confusion, backing up a step unsure of an appropriate response. None came.
The silence was back, itching at Jack's skin like fleas on a stray dog. He felt like one. Something Ianto had taken pity on. He wasn't sure how he felt about it all, other than terrified. Everything was so much easier when they were in the Hub. Torchwood shielded him from too much attachment.
In theory at least.
Jack realised belatedly that he was dumbstruck.
A mug of coffee was pressed into his hands as the towel was taken away.
"You look like you need this."
Jack curled his fingers around the ceramic. "Thanks." His gaze went to the mug in his grasp. He listened as Ianto shuffled around his kitchen for a moment before coming still and Jack could just see his bare feet in his peripheral vision. There was a resigned sigh.
"Now I've done it. Are you going to run away from me now?"
Jack didn't know. He didn't want to, but knew that he should for both their sakes.
"Do you want me to?" He kept his gaze lowered. How was it that Ianto could do this to him?
"Do you really need to ask me that?"
"Do you always answer a question with a question?"
He heard Ianto huff in exasperation. "Do you?"
Jack shrugged, feeling like he was five years old again and standing before his father. Ianto deserved better from him. He felt Ianto approach, a shadow moving closer and the warmth of a hand on his arm.
"Jack, what's going on?"
The anger was gone, replaced with concerned compassion. Ianto was good at that, always knowing when not to push and always knowing when he should and somehow Jack realised that this was a very important conversation he shouldn't back down from. He wanted to flee.
"Talk to me, please."
Jack lifted his gaze and met blue. It took his breath for a moment. Pure Ianto, the sight of him, the smell of him and his warmth seeping through the point of contact like a balm.
Jack felt himself release something far deeper than his breath.
"God, this is so hard." It was a moment before he figured out that those words had left his own lips.
"I know." It was gentle.
Jack hitched a half-hearted smile but couldn't think of anything more to say. He was fixed in Ianto's searching gaze like an insect in amber.
"You know I would do anything for you, to give you better memories, to make your long life just a bit more bearable, but I will not blindly follow orders if I think they are wrong. But whatever happens at work Jack this is your home, I want you to be able to be Jack here, not Torchwood."
"And yet you moan about the mess."
Ianto smiled at that. "Think of me as being a domestic drama queen. You know I hate mess, I'm sorry."
Jack nodded. "I can't give you….."
Ianto's grasp on him tightened. "I'm not asking you to. Only you can make that decision. You know what I want. Just accept what I offer without feeling confined, I'll be content with that. I trust you Jack. I know how hard it is to care or to love. The best things are always the hardest won. We both want things we can't have; that's life. All I ask is that you don't use me as stress relief, if that is all you want then find a one night stand and get it out of your system…."
Jack stilled, what was that really how things were between them?
"Ianto, you are not stress relief."
"I don't know that Jack."
Jack pulled himself away and placed his untouched coffee on the bench. Ianto was about to follow him but Jack turned to face him again and Ianto stopped.
"I should go."
Ianto stepped aside to clear the doorway in defeat but Jack was stuck.
"You remember last week?"
Ianto nodded. "How could I forget?"
Jack shoved his hands into his pockets to hide them. "You held me. You held me for two hours while I vented my despair."
Ianto frowned, apparently unsure about where the conversation was going. "I'd do it again if I thought it would help you."
"But you're angry now."
"Yes, I suppose I am."
Jack edged a pace closer, pleading with his eyes for Ianto to understand and somehow he did.
"It's not you Jack, well not entirely. It's everything we face, it leaves nothing in its wake and always we lose just a little bit more of ourselves to it. One day there'll nothing left and I'll be dead before then anyway, but you won't be and I don't want to leave you with nothing."
Jack's heart ached under his ribs and Ianto continued on.
"If you have this place, me, and some shelter from all that crap out there then hopefully it means you can hold on to something of yourself for longer. It's all I have to give."
It was the most frightening thing and Jack swallowed down his fear and held out his hands.
Ianto didn't hesitate in taking them and Jack pulled Ianto to him and in releasing his hands enfolded him in a tight embrace. He cradled Ianto's head to his shoulder and buried his face in his hair, inhaling deeply.
"You are amazing."
He felt Ianto's arms around him like the shield that he so often tried to be and Jack realised he was home.
They stood there, as close to one another as they could possibly get and allowed the world to turn without them, if only for a little while.