Ianto slipped back into the workplace almost unnoticed.
Upon entering the laboratory on the thirteenth floor, Tosh beamed, walked towards him, raised her arms and hugged all the parts of him that she could reach. Then it was business as usual. If anyone else had missed him in his absence, they didn't mention it.
This made Ianto feel anonymous. It was a feeling he liked.
Picking up the threads of his work sampler again Ianto felt at home.
Sort of.
Something was nibbling at the corners of his biscuit brain.
Something was leaving a knot in his hormonal handkerchief.
He felt a compulsion to be nice.
To whom?
Why?
-O-
Over the course of the coming weeks Ianto varied his routine. He still had a lunch date, everyday with Tosh.
He still looked forward to hometime; but he had stopped avoiding his boss Jack Harkness. In fact he was inexplicably, actively seeking him out.
Sort of.
If there were any errands to run, Ianto ran them; especially if they involved taking samples to the basement, coincidentally passing Jack's office on the way.
His door was always open.
Ianto always peeked in.
Surreptitiously of course.
Jack's head was always down, working hard, (but his sensors sensed a certain Welshman).
Within a matter of days, Ianto came baring gifts, well coffee. The seductive aroma filled the room as he entered, corner to corner, carpet to ceiling. The shelves moved closer.
This time Jack raised his head. Knowing that Ianto had a low startle point, he let him take the lead.
"It's about that time again sir."
"Date time?"
"Break time."
"Oh" Jack tried wholly unsuccessfully to hide his teasing grin. He took the blue stripy mug being offered to him. "At last my lips get to touch something of yours Ianto."
Ianto changed colour.
"Be careful sir, it's hot."
"I'll say."
Ianto rolled his eyes and walked away, but not before turning his head to watch Jack take his first sip of his ebony coloured elixir. His response was more than Ianto had expected. Jack grinned broadly and slowly raised his chin to the sky, whilst tilting his head back; he puffed his chest out. Ianto could practically see the waves of peristalses transporting the beverage, down his throat to his stomach.
Ianto's chest blushed.
The sound Jack made, reminded him of a sound that belonged to another room.
He left quickly.
-O-
Ianto increased his visitations.
He made sure that he saw Jack's door at least twice a day. The excuses he made were elaborate and flimsy.
He didn't care.
He'd lost his head.
On a day that Jack was working extra hard, (papers everywhere, files everywhere, swear box full). Ianto silently slid into the room. Without disturbing the ever encroaching mess, he reached out and took Jack's overused leaking fountain pen from his hand. Retrieving a small bottle of white spirit and a cloth from his pocket, Ianto proceeded to delicately wipe Jack's inky fingers clean.
Jack watched this wordless operation, with something akin to awe.
All his hearts synchronised to sigh in unison.
-O-
Seeing Jack wasn't always Ianto's major priority. On the last day of the month, Ianto arrived with the dawn,
(he had been fighting it, but he could stand it no more); armed with every portable cleaning product he could find, and a multipack of dusters, Ianto set to work, (and yes he whistled).
As he finished bringing Jack's bunker up to an acceptable standard of cleanliness, Ianto thought he heard the walls chuckle. He could only conclude, the chemical fumes had gone to his head.
He must open a window.
When Jack arrived several hours later, before he could take off his greatcoat, he only had one thing to say.
"Ianto."
-OOO-
Being a nicely brought up boy, Jack knew it was only polite to return the kind gesture that Ianto had displayed towards him. Being the weekend Jack hoped that he could wing it to his advantage, and mix politeness with pleasure.
Here goes nothing.
Armed with two bottles of Tempranillo and a winning smile, Jack made his way to Ianto's. He had memorised the address before he had finished reading it a month ago.
Casting his mind back to that time, Jack surmised that the electrical activity around Ianto could still be volatile, so he threw a negative ionised force field around Ianto's townhouse.
For Ianto's protection.
For Jack's peace of mind.
-O-
To say that Ianto was surprised to see Jack at his door was an understatement. However widened eyes and a hint of tongue poking out through his lips, did not detract from his appeal.
Not expecting any guests, Ianto was in mufti. A tight fitting navy blue t-shirt gripped his chest and unusually muscular arms, while a loose fitting pair of jeans, fit where they touched around his waist and hips.
Jack forced himself not to show his appreciation.
"Hey Ianto, I hope I'm not disturbing you?"
"No of course not sir, come in."
Ianto led the way down his extensive hallway to his living room. In the daylight Ianto's home looked even more sparsely furnished, than the last time Jack had seen it. It really did look as though he had yet to move in properly. As though he was waiting for the rest of his belongings to arrive.
His living room was a perfect case in point; it held a large black Chesterfield sofa, a single chair and a small slightly charred coffee-table. That was all. No personal effects. Nothing that gave a clue about the person who actually lived there.
Strange.
Ianto made a bee line for the chair. Jack sunk into the sofa. He remembered when this style was new.
"Would you like a drink?" Ianto seemed slightly nervous.
Jack wiggled his bottles at him. "Came locked and loaded."
Ianto relieved his guest of his gifts and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned he was holding one wine glass filled with wine, and one water glass filled with water. He handed the wine to Jack.
"You not drinking Ianto?"
"This is wine. I've just changed its appearance that's all." Ianto's deadpan delivery was convincing.
"Transmogrification? On a Saturday? Impressive."
Ianto's eyes smiled briefly. "Actually I'm off the sauce for a while; I can get a bit …carried away."
"I know." The words slipped out before Jack could stop them.
"Pardon?"
"I know what you mean, is what I meant to say."
"Hmmm." Ianto took a second or two to fully accept this answer. Jack sought to move the conversation on quickly.
"Ianto, regardless of your drinking habits, I'd like to raise a toast." He held his glass aloft. "To you."
"To me?"
"Thank you for all your kindness', over these last few weeks. I appreciate it."
"I was just doing my job sir."
"No you've been going above and beyond Ianto, don't think I haven't noticed."
"'Twas nothing sir." Ianto bashfully hung his head as he clinked his glassware with his guest. Jack could see that the back of his neck, was the same colour as salmon.
"Would you like to stay for dinner?"
"Loved to, what are we having?"
"I'll see."
-O-
Ianto rose and re-entered the kitchen. Jack took this opportunity to do a quick life-audit of the house. Touching all four edges of the room, he discovered that this dwelling had stood since 1890. A well-to-do doctor had originally inhabited it, with his six children. The eldest son had inherited it, but unfortunately he had died in the Great War. The house then passed to the youngest son who had turned the basement into a speakeasy in the 1920's. Wracking up huge debts meant the youngest son was forced to sell the house. It changed hands several times during the 1930's, eventually becoming a recruiting office for the Army in the Second World War. The 1950's saw the building being reclaimed as a home again. Homes in fact, as the place was subdivided into three flats. Young couples started their lives together here. The 60's saw a period of decline which lasted most of the decade. Many nameless, faceless people called this address home; temporarily. In the 70's, Jack sensed freedom and free love under his fingertips, remnants from the townhouse's commune days. The gentrification of the 80's, restored the abode to a family home once more, and the 90's saw the arrival of a strained but civil family. A tyrant of a father strictly regulated the actions of an outgoing daughter and a near silent son. A fractious relationship led to the separation of father and son. The grown up son only returning after the death of the father. This is where things became hazy for Jack, he knew something turbulent had happened recently; but he was unable to see clearly what exactly this was.
The home stopped talking.
When Ianto came into the room, he could've sworn he saw Jack listening to his walls. He crept up behind him.
"Will fish pie do you?"
Jack jumped at the sudden interruption. "Lovely."
"It'll take a while." Ianto was still within his personal space, seemingly unable to move. Jack breathed in his heat.
"Not a problemo, it'll give us a chance to talk. Tell me a bit more about yourself, we've got time after all."
Jack made sure he sat on the chair now, forcing his host to take the more comfortable sofa. Ianto circled his chair, trailing his fingers across the top of it, before he sat down.
Ianto pulled a face, small talk, what fun. He was reluctant to start.
"Well some would say I'm a touch OCD."
"Don't you mean CDO?"
"Huh?"
"Well surely someone with OCD would put the letters in the correct order?"
The face Ianto pulled this time contained a smirk.
He relaxed slightly in spite of himself.
Jack held out his glass, angling for a top-up. Ianto obliged.
"Tell me something else that no-one else knows."
"I also make cheese."
"Make cheese?"
"Yes."
"Make cheese?!"
"I think I said yes."
"As in, there once was nothing and now there is cheese?"
"YES." Ianto was mildly puzzled that this was such a wild notion to grasp.
"I always knew you had a scent like no other. How was I to know it was Gorgonzola?"
It was safe to say Ianto did not share Jack's sense of humour.
Jack still couldn't resist, he sang out.
"The hills are alive, with the sound of Caerphilly."
"You do know my front door has a handle on both sides, don't you?"
"Alright I'll be good. For now. What else constitutes the wonder of Ianto?"
As Ianto's lips moved Jack tried to read his mind.
No luck.
He tried to separate his chakras.
No luck.
He tried to run his hands around his aura, to see which emotion it was currently radiating.
Luck there was none.
Damn, I'll have to rely on what he is actually saying then - how very twenty-first century.
Ianto's lips stopped moving, he stared at Jack.
"You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying have you?"
Jack was indignant. "That's so not tru… ok you got me." He suddenly perked up. "Is there a forfeit? Will I be punished?"
Ianto rolled his eyes extra slowly; but then a thought struck him.
"Actually there is a forfeit, why don't we play truth or dare?"
"Followed by spin the bottle?"
"No."
"Oh."
"Truth or dare."
"Dare."
"Sorry your forfeit is that you have to tell the truth."
"So why ask?"
"Politeness."
"Truth then."
"Are you bi-curious?" Even at this stage Ianto still hedged his bets.
"No. No I'm not bi-curious, I'm bisexual. My curiosity has been satisfied. Thanks for asking."
Jack promptly turned the tables.
"Are you bi-curious?"
Ianto shook his head.
"Bi-sexual?"
A second shake.
"Gay then?"
Ianto paused. He took a sip of fortifying water. His left eyebrow began to twitch.
"Um er, theoretically, on paper, using the Kinsey scale, some might say …." his voice trailed off, barely a whisper; "but in reality my hands are empty. Always have been. Does that count?"
Some might say.
"Truth or dare."
"Dare." Jack moved himself and his wine glass over to the sofa. He caught his toe on its heavily upholstered edge, stumbled, but managed to regain his balance, without spilling a drop. He was now next to Ianto.
"I dare you to show me any embarrassing or crazy tattoos you may have about your person."
Jack's face lit up. He separated his numerous bracelets to reveal Ianto dymuniad fy nghalon etched into the underside of his right wrist.
Ianto took a sharp intake of breath. Completely caught off-guard.
Jack knew it was a risk to reveal this particular tatt, rather than the dragon he had embedded in his inner thigh; but something was pushing him to this point.
He was willing to be pushed.
Ianto was mesmerised. He traced the outline of the calligraphy, while his brain was stuck on mute.
"What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking of you."
Ianto blinked hard at this news. "Have you ever thought of becoming shy?"
"Why be shy? It just wastes time. You know you're gonna like me in the end."
Ianto turned his face away, trying to hide his amusement from Jack.
"So Ianto, what's it to be, a truthful dare or the daring truth?"
The young Welshman took his time to consider his options.
"Th th the truth please."
Jack cleared his throat; he wanted to pitch this just right. He edged slightly closer to Ianto on the sofa.
"What are you truly afraid of?"
Ianto sat back in shock.
"Wh what d d do you mean?"
Jack elaborated. "What keeps you awake at night? Makes your palms sweat and your head spin?"
Ianto's lips mouthed the word you before telling his brain.
Jack nodded with his eyes.
Ianto then reached out and took a cheeky sip from Jack's wineglass before shedding his first layer.
"I have this coat, a waistcoat actually, that I've also wanted to try on. It's vibrant and eye-catching, not at all like my others. It's made from the finest silk, interlaced with steel. I keep it at the back of my closet and once in a while I look at it.
It doesn't fit me...yet. Maybe one day I'll grow into it."
"I'd like to be there when you do."
Ianto purposely avoided Jack's eye line, as he took another taste of his wine.
-O-
Jack couldn't be sure, but he thought that Ianto had just touched him. On the waist, subtly.
In fact Ianto had been touching him all night.
Briefly.
Lightly.
Teasingly.
A hand on his shoulder. Another placed in the centre of his back. A finger that brushed briefly against his pulse point on his wrist. If Ianto had been more definite in his inclination, Jack would have come to the conclusion that he was being love bombed.
There, it had happened again; there was no mistaking that. Ianto had placed his hand on Jack's knee and had held it there for at least three seconds. Longer than the requisite timeframe for casual contact.
Ianto was flirting.
Emboldened, Jack leant forward and placed his hand behind Ianto's head. He stopped to gauge his possible reaction. Ianto licked his lips, whilst he stared at Jack's.
Taking that as a green light, Jack placed the sweetest of kisses on Ianto's plump youthful mouth.
The whole room changed colour.
Before Jack could savour the delights of Ianto's nubile nirvana however, Ianto had grabbed Jack by the lapels and was pulling, pushing and dragging his guest towards the front door.
Jack was confused.
Ianto had managed to unlock, open and hurl Jack through the portal before Jack's fifty-first century brain had managed to recalibrate itself.
The gateway slammed shut.
In Jack's face.
He was left alone. Standing on the other side. Bewildered….but not for long.
Less than a semi-breve later the door opened and Ianto's hands reached out and pulled Jack inside again.
Jack took a step backwards, unsure now.
Ianto took a step towards him, determined.
This time he was the one who reached behind Jack's neckline to bring their mouths together. He flipped Jack and pressed him up against the barrier that had been between them.
Ianto was in control now.
-OOO-
A/N Ianto dymuniad fy nghalon = Ianto my heart's desire.
Comments are always appreciated