Chapter Fifteen

Jack banged sharply on the door, his frustration having driven him to what he suspected was an unwise course of action. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do or say, except that he needed to do something. He needed to find a way to make Ianto see sense.

It had been a hellish two days in London, and he was tired and stressed. Preoccupied as he'd been over the situation with Ianto, he'd had to deal with an especially difficult client and several vain, ego-crazed models, the worst of which had shamelessly flaunted himself at Jack at every opportunity, becoming more fractious and uncooperative as Jack turned down his repeated propositions. Jack was by no means a saint, but he'd always tried to keep his professional and personal lives separate. Admittedly, he hadn't always been entirely successful, and he'd had fun with some of his peers when it suited him, but he'd never used sex as a means to further his career. He took pride in the fact that his success had been entirely the result of his looks, professionalism and work-ethic. And, as a photographer, he never got involved with any of the models he worked with, no matter how willing or appealing they were.

He'd begun the drive back to Cardiff late in the afternoon, encountering roadworks not once but twice. When he'd finally arrived home, after pacing restlessly for half an hour and growing increasingly more agitated, he'd turned around and headed out again. The result was that he now stood at Ianto's front door, uninvited, at nine-thirty on a Sunday evening.

"It was just a couple of kisses, Jack. It didn't mean anything."

Ianto's words from their phone conversation the night before continued to taunt him. To his dismay, it had taken nothing more than those couple of impromptu kisses to send Ianto scurrying back into the safety of heterosexual mediocrity. Ianto was adamant that their exchange had been nothing more than an aberration, a moment of weakness after the encounter with Lisa and her new beau. It wasn't a surprise, and it was exactly what Jack had feared might happen, but he couldn't help feeling hurt and disappointed. However, he also knew denial when he saw it. Regardless of Ianto's words, the desire that the Welshman had demonstrated in those few brief moments had been every bit equal to his own.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him, and once again he couldn't help wondering if the universe was playing some sort of cruel, twisted joke. Ianto's words were exactly what he could imagine himself saying in a similar situation. After all, a kiss was just a kiss – even ones as fantastic as he'd shared with Ianto – and he'd never had a problem in the past with keeping emotions out of the equation when it came to sex and physical intimacy. Nor did he subscribe to the belief that kissing was too intimate for casual encounters. He'd often enjoyed kissing a stranger as much as he'd enjoyed kissing someone more familiar. But when it came to Ianto Jones, all bets were off. He practically worshipped the man and had been infatuated with him from the moment they'd met. He'd been emotionally invested long before their lips had even touched.

He raised his hand and was about to bang on the door again when it swung open to reveal a frowning, suspicious-looking Welshman. "Jack? What are you doing here?"

For once, Jack didn't spend any time on flattery or pleasantries. He pushed his way inside. "We need to talk."

"Come in, why don't you." Ianto closed the door and glared at him, looking none too happy. "Look, Jack, you can't just..."

Whatever Ianto had intended to say was cut off mid-sentence as Jack grabbed hold of him by his upper arms and shoved him back against the wall beside the door, causing the Welshman to let out a muffled grunt. Pressing their bodies together, Jack crashed his lips against Ianto's in a hard, almost brutal kiss.

Ianto was tense and unresponsive for several moments, but then he groaned, grabbed hold of Jack and began kissing him back with equal hunger. It was Jack's turn to groan, and he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into Ianto's unresisting mouth. This time there was no gentleness or finesse about their technique, just raw, unadulterated, desperate need. Heat flooded Jack's veins and he ground his hips against Ianto's, gratified to feel a hardness which matched his own.

Finally, he pulled away, breathing hard as he stared into Ianto's shocked, glazed eyes. He was still holding Ianto's arms in a vice-like grip. "Don't tell me that didn't mean anything. Because it sure as hell meant something to me. Just like it did the other night."

Ianto opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking confused and bewildered. Then anger darkened his features again. He shoved at Jack with surprising force, pushing him away. "Are you out of your bloody mind? You can't just barge in here and attack me like that." He took a step back, glaring furiously. "We talked about this. We agreed that what happened the other night was..."

Jack cut him off. "A mistake?" He didn't manage to hide the hurt from his voice.

Ianto stared at him, clearly taken aback. He sighed, shaking his head. "What do you want from me, Jack?"

Jack drew a deep breath, telling himself to remain calm. "I just want you to be honest, Ianto."

Ianto made a derisive noise. He glanced around, as if he was trying to find an escape route. He glanced back at Jack before sighing again. "I need a drink."

Jack watched as Ianto disappeared into the kitchen. Not sure what to do, he took off his shoes and moved into the living room. Looking around at the impeccably neat space for a moment, he sat down on the sofa, not getting too comfortable in case Ianto changed his mind and decided to toss him out.

He wasn't sure he'd blame Ianto if he did, given his behaviour. He hadn't meant to be aggressive and accost Ianto like that. Nevertheless, the way Ianto had given into it vindicated his belief that the other night hadn't been the one-off aberration that Ianto claimed it to be. He just needed Ianto to admit it, and then he hoped that they might have a chance to move forward and become more than friends.

He raked a hand through his hair and wondered, not for the first time, how it was that this quiet, unassuming, gorgeous, infuriating man had managed to turn his world upside-down.

Ianto reappeared after a minute or so, carrying a bottle of scotch and a pair of glasses. Jack took a moment to properly examine the Welshman's appearance. Ianto looked a little ragged around the edges, his hair not as neatly groomed as usual and dark smudges visible under his eyes. He was dressed down in faded jeans paired with a dark t-shirt and hooded top. It was a stark contrast to his prim and proper work persona.

Ianto eyed Jack warily as he sat down beside him, keeping some distance between them. He put a glass down in front of Jack and filled it with a generous splash of scotch, then did the same with his own, downing it without ceremony, then filling it again.

Deciding a little liquid courage couldn't hurt, Jack picked up his glass and swallowed its contents, savouring the burn as it hit the back of his throat. It was a very good scotch, but then he wouldn't have expected anything less. One of the many things he'd learnt about Ianto was that he was a man of impeccable and uncompromising standards.

Ianto held up the bottle, and Jack nodded, watching as Ianto poured him a refill. He held the glass in his hands as the silence became increasingly more awkward. Deciding that a drink and not being kicked out was as much as he could hope for under the circumstances, he took a sip, put the glass down and turned to face the younger man. He was aware that Ianto had been watching him, but Ianto quickly averted his gaze as their eyes met, turning his attention to where his hands were wrapped around his almost empty glass.

Jack stifled a frustrated sigh. "That's three times we've kissed now. You can't pretend that you weren't an active participant or that you didn't enjoy each one. I just want you to admit that you're attracted to me."

Ianto didn't look up. "I'm not."

"I don't believe you." Jack paused and took a breath, trying to keep his annoyance in check. "Come on, Ianto. Just tell me the truth. Is that really too much to ask?"

Ianto glanced up at him, his features tense, then looked away again. "All right, fine. I'm attracted to you. Are you happy now?" He swallowed the rest of the drink and slammed the glass down. "But I shouldn't be."

As relieved as he was to hear Ianto admit the truth, Jack would have preferred if it had sounded less like Ianto had just confessed his guilt to an unspeakable crime. He frowned. "Why not?"

Ianto finally looked up at him and held his gaze. "I've told you. I'm not gay. I've been straight my entire life. I'm not attracted to men."

"Does it matter?" This time Jack didn't manage to hide the annoyance from his voice. There was a lot to like about Ianto Jones, but one of the man's less appealing attributes was his apparent need to categorise and pigeon-hole. Shades of grey didn't seem to be a part of Ianto's world-view. "I don't care how you feel about men in general, and I don't care how you choose to label yourself. I only care about you and me."

"Of course it matters." With a heavy sigh, Ianto rubbed at the back of his neck. "It doesn't make any sense."

Jack moved closer and risked resting a hand gently on Ianto's knee. "Is it really so difficult to believe that your sexuality might not be as black and white as you thought?"

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know." Ianto winced and stared down at Jack's hand on his knee. He hadn't pulled away, which Jack took as a good sign. "It's a bit of a shock."

Jack almost laughed at that. Ianto had a way with words, and given the degree to which he had obviously been torturing himself over this, it was probably the understatement of the century.

He gave Ianto's knee a reassuring squeeze. "Okay, I can understand that. We're fortunate to live in more enlightened times, but heterosexual is still the default. And everyone is different. Some people accept their sexuality from an early age, others take longer. Sadly, some people spend their entire lives fighting against who they really are. For some, it might be that they're never in a situation which causes them to challenge their beliefs." He shrugged. "Maybe it just happens that meeting me has awakened a part of you that you didn't know existed until now. I can't pretend to be unhappy about that."

Ianto was silent for a long moment, seemingly considering his words. Some of the tension had eased from his face and posture, and Jack hoped that he might be getting past the fight or flight stage and beginning to look at the situation a little more objectively.

"All right, assuming that's true. Why, though?" Ianto looked at him with a puzzled frown. "Why are you even interested in me?"

Confused, Jack frowned in return. "Why wouldn't I be? Is there something wrong with you that I don't know about?"

"No, of course not." Ianto's tone was indignant, but his look of confusion remained. "But I'm just an ordinary bloke. I'm nothing special. You could have anyone you wanted." He paused. "Well, almost anyone."

Jack raised a challenging eyebrow, wondering if his hopes were about to get dashed all over again. "You mean anyone except you?"

Ianto answered with a non-committal shrug.

"Maybe I only want you. I like you, Ianto. I like you a hell of a lot. You're gorgeous and sexy and smart and funny. I want us to be more than friends. And now I know that the attraction isn't one-sided, I just want you to be open to the possibility." Jack looked into Ianto's eyes, willing him to want that too. "And for the record, you're far from ordinary. You're one of the most remarkable and fascinating people I've ever known."

Ianto stared at him, lips slightly parted and looking adorably lost for words. Then he huffed out a wry laugh. "Rhys thinks you've set your sights on me as your future husband."

Jack cringed, belatedly realising that he'd perhaps been a little too forthcoming with Ianto's best friend. He'd never exactly been known for his circumspect nature. "Yeah, well... about that..."

Ianto pulled back, Jack's hand slipping from his knee. He narrowed his eyes. "He's right, isn't he?"

Jack hastened to do some damage control. "You're a catch. Why wouldn't I consider the possibility? Anyway, forget about that. I won't be trying to drag you down the aisle anytime soon." He moved closer to Ianto again. "Come here."

Not giving Ianto a chance to resist or protest, Jack took him into his arms and set about kissing the hell out of him.

When he finally pulled back and admired his efforts in the form of Ianto's flushed cheeks, glazed eyes and moist, red lips, he unleashed his most devilish grin. "So, here's what I'm thinking. Every time you start freaking out, I'm going to kiss you. It seems to work very well."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "And what happens when I'm not freaking out?"

"Well, I'm still going to kiss you. I like kissing you." To prove his point, Jack kissed him again, although he kept it brief this time. "All you have to do is tell me to stop. But you haven't yet, and I don't think you will."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself." Despite the rebuke, Ianto's lips twitched in what seemed like something close to amusement.

Jack reached up and cupped Ianto's face. He traced Ianto's jawline, enjoying the light scratch of a day's growth of stubble against his fingertips. He swallowed, his mouth dry as he realised just how completely he was at this man's mercy. "Ianto, I've never been less sure of myself as I have since I met you."

This time it was Ianto who initiated the kiss, and Jack gave into it, allowing the Welshman to take the lead. Ianto didn't seem to have any intention of stopping, and Jack had no complaints about that whatsoever. He matched Ianto's enthusiasm with his own, thrilled by the hotbed of passion hidden beneath Ianto's placid, mild-mannered exterior. He was now convinced that Ianto simply needed some encouragement and guidance in order to push past his inhibitions and embrace this new aspect of his sexuality. Jack wanted nothing more than to be the person who helped him to do that, taking the journey with him every step of the way. Plus, he couldn't deny that the notion of being a kind of sexual sensei for Ianto appealed to his ego.

They ended up sprawled along the length of the sofa, limbs tangled around each other, their eager, exploratory kisses continuing unabated. Jack could feel the hardness of Ianto's erection against his thigh, and his own crotch was uncomfortably tight in the confines of his jeans and underwear. He resisted the desire to take things further, however, fearing that he might scare Ianto off if he tried to move things too fast.

Eventually they took a break to catch their breath, and Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto's shoulders, holding him close and smiling as Ianto rested against him with a soft sigh. Jack tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of Ianto's head and gently stroked back and forth, more than a little in awe of the fact that he could finally touch and hold Ianto in at least some of the ways he'd imagined so many times.

He was ready to get back to some more kissing when he was surprised to hear a soft, snuffling snore. He bit back an indignant laugh, but then his chest did something funny from the knowledge that, despite everything going on in Ianto's head, some part of him trusted Jack and felt safe enough with him to fall asleep in his arms. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes and let Ianto sleep, warm and content and unable to imagine any other place he'd rather be.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he felt Ianto shift against him. He'd been drifting in and out of a light doze, not asleep but not fully awake either. Opening his eyes, he found a pair of sleepy blue ones looking back at him. He gave Ianto a soft smile. "Hey."

"How long was I asleep?" Ianto raised a hand to his mouth and smothered a yawn. "Sorry."

Jack lifted his left arm and peered at his watch. At his best guess, only about an hour had passed. "Not long." He touched Ianto's cheek and stroked it tenderly with the pad of his thumb. "You look tired."

Ianto made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a huff, but he didn't pull away from Jack's touch. In fact, he seemed to welcome it, and Jack realised that, despite his reserved demeanour suggesting otherwise, Ianto liked to be touched. A hint of a wry, self-deprecating smile passed over Ianto's lips. "Yes, well... an existential crisis will do that to a bloke."

Jack supposed that he should feel guilty about his part in that. In all honesty, though, he couldn't. Not when it might mean that he had a chance with this beautiful, complicated, captivating man.

Still stroking gently, he brushed a kiss against Ianto's lips. "Look, I know this must be confusing, but we can take things slow. I can be patient... I can give you whatever time you need." He swallowed against the lump of emotion in his throat, frightened and hopeful and vulnerable in a way that he'd never been before. "Will you give me a chance?"

Ianto studied him, his expression frustratingly difficult to read. An eternity seemed to pass as Jack waited for him to respond. He didn't dare to breathe, anxiety clenching tighter in his chest with each passing moment.

Then, slowly, tentatively, Ianto nodded.