Ianto - Chapter Three
With a sort of sick fascination, Ianto watched the luridly blond man saunter up to the host stand, hips swaying, piercing eyes taking in his surroundings. He was dressed in tight white trousers and a garish red shirt adored with gold buttons and trim, with far too many accessories to consider decent. Ianto wasn't sure whether to laugh out loud or start a case study of one of the most flamboyant customers to come into the Hub since he'd started. He decided on neither, hoping he could turn the man out quickly, and straightened his black jacket along with his host smile. He greeted the man as politely as he greeted everyone, trying not to judge even though he was rolling his eyes inside.
"Good afternoon, sir," he said. "I'm afraid we're not yet open for dinner. Can I make you a reservation for later this evening?"
The man leered as he leaned over the host stand, licking his lips and running his eyes up and down Ianto's body in an explicitly lewd manner. "That depends," the man replied, his accent as smarmy as his looks. "Are you on the menu, eye candy?"
"No sir," Ianto replied dryly. "Perhaps you should try the clubs on Charles Street?"
The man laughed, a loud throaty sound that made Ianto cringe. "I like you already, and I bet Jack does too, doesn't he? He'd never overlook a nice piece of eye candy like you. Is he around? Jack Harkness?"
Ianto couldn't help but stare at the man in surprise. He was looking for Jack? Jack knew this questionable man? Shaking his head, Ianto drew himself up to his full height, projecting confidence against the shorter man's attempt to belittle him. "I'm sorry, but who might I say is asking?"
"John Hart, his partner," the man replied. He winked at Ianto with a knowing grin when Ianto's mouth literally fell open in shock. Before Ianto could say anything, Jack stepped out front, hands tucked into his pockets and a dark look on his face.
"Ex-partner," he corrected the man, his voice flat. "What are you doing here, John?"
"Visiting an old friend and colleague, of course!" John exclaimed. He opened his arms and moved to embrace Jack, who stepped out of the way, refusing to be touched, his eyes cold and distant. He was clearly uninterested, and John Hart offered a pout that Jack stared down. Whatever relationship Jack may have had with John in the past was obviously over, and Ianto found himself unexpectedly relieved.
"It's been ten years, John," said Jack. "What are you doing in Cardiff?"
"Sight-seeing?" John suggested, turning to wag an eyebrow at Ianto. Ianto rolled his eyes at the man's vulgar attempt at flirting.
"I'd be happy to point you toward the castle, if you'd like to see the sights," he said. John cocked his head.
"Do you come with the tour package?" John asked.
"I can offer you a blow-up dragon," replied Ianto. "Miniature, of course, for the…smaller patrons."
"I prefer poodles," John drawled, either ignoring the implied insult or missing it completely. "Though I like your curls even better, eye candy."
Before Ianto could reply—and really, he had nothing, the comment about was poodles and curls was far too repulsive to even think about parrying back—Jack stepped between them.
"All right, enough is enough," he said. He stood next to Ianto, his hand resting loosely on Ianto's lower back as if staking his claim, or perhaps drawing strength; either was fine with Ianto. "John, why are you really here? I'm working, this is my job. You could have just called."
"Would you have answered?" asked John Hart, and Jack shook his head.
"No, I wouldn't. But frankly, showing up here unannounced doesn't make me want to talk to you either. You should leave, John. And don't look back." Ianto was surprised at the vehemence in Jack's words and could feel the other man's tremors as Jack held tighter to his back. He wondered what the story was, that Jack wanted this man from his past gone so badly. What had John Hart done?
"So no happy reunion, then?" asked John. "A drink after work for old time's sake?"
"I have plans after work," said Jack.
"Tomorrow?"
"Every night."
"Lunch?"
"I'm not interested, John. Go before you embarrass yourself."
John Hart turned to Ianto. "Looks like you've got him wrapped around your little finger. Which probably means you're not interested either?"
Ianto felt Jack's hold on him tighten and simply shook his head, not bothering to hide his disgust; he might have imagined it, but he thought Jack let out a breath, as if relieved.
"All right, all right," John said, holding up his hands. "I know when I'm not wanted. Too bad, I'm a hell of lay, eye candy."
Ianto shrugged. "No loss. I have plans after work." The implication was clear.
John grinned at them. "Sure you two don't fancy an orgy?"
Jack dropped his hand from its place on Ianto's back, grabbed John by the arm, and dragged him roughly to the door. "Goodbye, John."
John turned and offered Jack the first honest look he'd had since he'd arrived, then kissed Jack on the cheek, quick and chaste. "Take care of each other," he murmured, then tipped two fingers in a mock salute to Ianto, and left the restaurant.
Jack stood at the door and watched the man leave, and Ianto watched Jack. He sensed many things from the way Jack held himself, stiff and insecure. He seemed irritated and upset and even a bit sad. Not angry, not anymore, and when he turned around, Ianto saw embarrassment and fear written clearly across Jack's face.
"Are you all right?" Ianto asked, concerned for Jack's well-being. Was he really that rattled by the appearance of someone from his past?
"Are you?" Jack returned, reaching toward Ianto's face but dropping his hand before making contact. Ianto glanced around, saw no one, then reached for Jack's hand, squeezing it between them as unobtrusively as possible before letting go.
"I'm fine, Jack," he assured the other man. "I'm not the one who just kicked my crazy ex-boyfriend out the door." Jack laughed nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "Am I right about the crazy ex-boyfriend part?"
"Oh, you're dead on," said Jack. "Long story short: we served together, slept together, and imploded together. I got help, got into school, made a good life for myself. He didn't. I wrote him out of my life a decade ago and haven't seen him since."
"And then he shows up at your restaurant." Ianto nodded in understanding. "Awkward."
"Like you wouldn't believe," Jack muttered. He tossed up his hands. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."
"What for?" Ianto asked. "It's not your fault, and it's not like I didn't know you had a bit of a colorful past." Everyone knew, given Jack's proclivity to telling tales. Ianto let his voice slip to teasing at the end, but Jack waved it away.
"I'm sorry he showed up here, gave you a hard time—"
Ianto wanted to stop him with a kiss, but he couldn't, not in front where anyone could see them get lost in it like they always did. He did, however, place a finger to Jack's lips. "Stop it, Jack. I'm fine. I can handle obnoxious customers. Not too many men hit on me, but I'm perfectly capable of defending myself against unwanted advances from either sex."
Whatever he'd said must have been the wrong thing, because Jack's eyes went wide, and he abruptly took Ianto's arm and pulled him into the cloakroom across from the host stand. Once more he glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then claimed Ianto's lips with a bruising kiss that left Ianto weak at the knees.
When they needed to stop for air, Jack leaned his forehead against Ianto's, one hand holding him tight at the waist, the other behind his head. "Go out with me," he growled. Ianto took a moment to process what Jack had said and what he meant.
"What?" he asked, unable to figure out either. They went out all the time, on their own and with the staff.
"Dinner…a movie," Jack continued. "You and me, together and alone."
"Are you…are you asking me on a date?" Ianto whispered, and Jack nodded vigorously.
"Interested?"
Ianto stared at him, then nodded, unable to find his voice. He had no idea what he was actually agreeing to and didn't really want to think about why he was agreeing. But he didn't want to say no, because he didn't want to lose Jack and whatever it was they had. "As long as there are no more crazy-exes. Some flings are best kept to yourself."
Jack grinned crookedly in agreement and kissed him again. "Consider yourself taken then, Mr. Jones."
That surprised him, and Ianto stepped back. "Wait, is that what this is about?"
"I don't want other men hitting on my boyfriend," Jack replied, his chin jutting forward stubbornly.
Ianto rolled his eyes, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed. He'd been claimed, not unlike when Ianto had claimed Jack in the broom closet two weeks earlier. Only this was much more formal. Defined. Boyfriend.
Ianto wasn't sure he was ready, but he knew himself well enough to admit that he was interested. Yes, he was interested in dating Jack. Not just sex, but something more. With a man. That he worked with.
And cared about a lot more than he would admit.
"Is that a yes?" asked Jack.
"Yes…yes," Ianto finally replied, and the look of relief and desire and something else Ianto wasn't ready to even contemplate on Jack's face sent warm shivers through his core. They kissed again, hands beginning to roam until Ianto felt Jack's fingers at his belt and realized, however reluctantly, that they had to stop. The cloakroom was not an appropriate place to shag, no matter how badly they wanted it at that moment.
So he stepped away, rebuckling his trousers and finger combing his hair. There probably wasn't anything he could do about the rest of his mussed-up look, or the raging hard on tenting his trousers, and Jack looked the same. They'd have to exit the cloakroom separately, that much was certain.
"You and me, my place, tonight," he told Jack, punctuating it with one last lingering kiss.
"You and me, a date, this weekend," Jack replied. His smile was infectious and Ianto felt happier than he thought was possible after all he'd been through.
Their first official date was exactly what Jack had proposed: dinner at an new, upscale pub and a movie at the local Cineplex. And it was exactly like going out with Jack every other time, except for the knowledge that this was a date and not two friends getting dinner before shagging late into the night. At first they'd struggled with the conversation, both of them feeling awkward and unsure as they floundered through new territory. Yet slowly but surely, amidst several joking comments about their discomfort, they each began to relax, until they were laughing over coffee and dessert. Ianto even found himself wiping chocolate from Jack's chin, which got him a quick kiss that left them both grinning.
When Jack took Ianto's hand in the movie theater, Ianto froze and almost pulled away. The only time they ever held hands was when they were having sex. Yet this was nice too; it was what couples did, wasn't it? Held hands. So before Jack could pull away in embarrassment, Ianto leaned over, kissed Jack's cheek in apology, and they finished the movie with their fingers entwined together, albeit with a fair amount of groping and a few more good snogs. Like a normal date.
The most awkward part of the evening was the end of their date. Jack had insisted on driving because he had been the one to ask Ianto to dinner and the movie, and felt it didn't make sense to go separately. When they'd gone out after work before they'd both had their cars, and had always decided whose flat they would end up at so one could follow the other home. When the inevitable end of the date kiss loomed before them, Jack stood on Ianto's stoop with his hands in his pocket and leaned close for a ridiculously chaste kiss, as if trying to play the gentleman. Ianto decided the hell with it, grabbed him, and dragged him upstairs and straight to his bedroom, first date etiquette be damned.
So what if they'd shagged first and dated second. Over the next few weeks, they figured it out. Ianto took Jack to his favorite Asian café, which Jack had never been to before, and Jack took Ianto out to Pennarth for a picnic and a walk along the beach. Ianto casually asked Jack if he'd be interested in going to the theater, and when Jack's eyes lit up, he quickly snapped up two tickets to the latest show at the Millenium Center.
It was surprisingly comfortable and easy, being together as more than casual lovers. Ianto found himself thinking about Jack constantly, looking forward more and more to their time alone and away from the restaurant. The sex had been amazing from the beginning, but Ianto was starting to cherish the little things now: holding hands with someone again, finding a new restaurant or seeing a new movie, laying together on the sofa watching telly, even reading the paper over coffee in the morning after waking up next to one another.
It was hard at work, though. They'd agreed early on that whatever they were doing was no one else's business, and dating hadn't changed their thoughts. Jack may have been a flirt and a storyteller, but he didn't like people telling stories about him, and he was still keen on protecting Ianto from gossip among their coworkers. So they continued to keep it to themselves even though it was more official than before and there were times they both hated not being able to offer a touch or a kiss during a much needed-or wanted- moment at work. Sometimes Ianto wondered about their decision, but then Gwen would start gossiping with Donna about one of the other servers, or the washers nattered on about their latest hookups, and he was glad that he and Jack were not the topic of conversation around the proverbial water cooler.
He knew that their secret wouldn't last forever, but for now, Ianto enjoyed every minute of his time with Jack and didn't worry about the rest of the world at all.
Author's Note:
Thank you so much for all of the amazing reviews! And to Tamaar, and maybe even to John Hart for making the first part of this chapter rather fun to write.