Ianto woke sometime later in the morning. He had no idea how much longer he'd slept after Jack had to run out, but it was much lighter in the room, even for a mainly grey day. The huge windows in both exterior walls of the corner loft made the place seem much brighter than it really was.
Ianto yawned and snuggled in for a moment more. After a minute, he realized there was an extra cover over him and remembered Jack tucking him in before he left. Sweet, Ianto thought. He tried telling himself not to think of that as an indicator of future potentialities. Pushing himself up, he found the cover was a dressing gown. Obviously Jack's as it smelled of his aftershave. That gave Ianto a smile as he pulled the dressing gown on and got up.
There was something Jack had said about tea, he was almost sure. Ambling round the partition that served to separate the 'bedroom' from the rest of the open floorplan, Ianto noted his phone, wallet, and keys were where he'd left them on Jack's coffee table. He vaguely wondered just why he'd trusted them there in the home of a veritable stranger, but then, Jack had gone out and trusted a veritable stranger with his entire home.
On the otherwise bare counter in the kitchen, Ianto found a mug, two packets of Taylor's of Harrogate Irish Breakfast tea and an electric kettle already filled. Ianto switched it on, dropped one tea bag into the blue-striped mug, and sat down at the pub-style table, gazing out at Jack's riverside view of the Taff and the new construction going on in what had once been all industrial warehouses. Progress, he thought, watching a rowing team make their way downstream.
Switching his attention inward, Ianto began to realize just how Spartan Jack's flat was. Upscale and very tidy, yes, but aside from the few relatively small antiques, some high-tech gizmos, and a handful of books, there was little in the way of actual personal possessions. If Jack ever decided to move town, he could be gone in an hour with everything fitting comfortably in the boot of a mid-size saloon.
There were no photos of family or mates, no cards displayed on the fridge from birthdays or congratulations or holidays, nothing to suggest permanent attachments of any sort. Ianto found himself saddened by that. Jack seemed so attentive, though, and with an astronomical charm-factor. How could there effectively be no other people in his life? Then again, he was an American ex-pat, and maybe things had been rough for him back home. Maybe his family were anti-gay and maybe he worked so much that he'd not really made lasting friendships here.
Or maybe he was one of those nightmarish people you hear about in tabloid stories – all personality and charisma at first, only to time out to be complete sociopaths that destroy the lives of everyone they come into contact with.
Ianto cast a wary glance back at the kettle that had just clicked itself off. What if he'd put something in the water, then left to watch Ianto on secreted webcams until he drank the tea and passed out?
Ianto shook his head at himself and got up to resolutely pour himself a cup. He needed to stop watching late-night telly. He spent a few minutes idly browsing Jack's books while waiting for his tea to cool to a drinkable temperature (not because he thought it might be contaminated…) then cautiously took a sip. It tasted perfectly normal, a very nice tea blend indeed. He told himself he wasn't checking himself for the faintest sign of disorientation as he went back to the coffee table to leaf through the volume on WWI fighter planes.
By the time he'd finished the first cup, he'd determined that he'd been paranoid even thinking Jack would put something in the kettle. He felt fine and the only thing bothering him was that Jack wasn't back yet from whatever he'd had to do at work. Ianto decided he'd fix himself the other cup of tea and then invite himself to use Jack's shower. If Jack hadn't returned by the time he was dressed again, he'd go and text Jack to let him know.
When Ianto walked into the bath, he found Jack had left a bath towel and flannel, disposable razor, unopened toothbrush, and his shaving cream and toothpaste on the sink. Yeah, Ianto thought, this guy was seriously thoughtful.
After showering and shaving, Ianto went back to the bedroom and found his clothes folded on Jack's bedroom chair. He noticed immediately that his shirt still held a trace of Jack's aftershave and he decided that it was one of the most addictive scents he'd ever encountered. Ianto was tempted to poke around in Jack's medicine cabinet to see what brand he used, but refrained. He could always ask next time they went out. Clean and dressed again, Ianto folded Jack's dressing gown and left it at the end of the bed.
Looking around, Ianto sighed as there wasn't much left that could justify his procrastination. He hung up his bath towel and folded the flannel over the edge of the sink, then washed out his mug and dried it with a tea towel. Officially out of excuses to wait around for Jack, Ianto collected up his phone, keys, and wallet and glanced around once more before heading to the door. He pulled it shut behind him and checked to make sure it had locked behind him as Jack said it would. Ianto couldn't help feeling that such a good night really shouldn't have such an anticlimactic ending and decided to treat himself to breakfast before going home.
He texted Jack over waffles and bacon to thank him for a 'good time' and let him know that he was really looking forward to the next time. He hoped Jack would call soon. Ianto knew he wasn't going to get Jack Harkness out of his head all day.