Chapter Text
“Just this once,” Ianto agreed, repeating Jack’s words, heart skipping against the inside of his chest.
“Tomorrow we go back to whatever passes as normal in our lives,” Jack continued, almost a hint of warning in his tone.
“Tomorrow,” he replied with a nod.
Jack stared at him for a long silent moment, expression inscrutable, as though maybe he was debating whether this was really a good idea or not.
Ianto’s pulse thrummed, desperately hoping Jack wouldn’t change his mind. So much had happened between them—tonight and in all the months since he’d started with Torchwood Three. After Lisa, he’d blamed Jack, thought he’d hated Jack. But tonight, after sending Jack through the rift and then getting the call from his mum, it had hit him that he didn’t hate Jack at all. In fact, the complete opposite had been true.
From the first moment he’d met Jack, helped him with the weevil to get himself into Torchwood Three, there’d been a little something extra between them. It’d been especially apparent when they’d ended up on the floor of that warehouse together the night they’d captured Myfawny. At the time, he’d still been blinded by his love for Lisa, and simply told himself it made it easier to keep Jack distracted from the truth he was hiding in the bowels of the hub.
He’d enjoyed their increasingly suggestive flirtation, but hadn’t allowed himself to think too closely about it. Truthfully, it’d made his own working hours easier, taken his mind of Lisa, until it’d gotten to the point he’d eagerly looked forward to starting each day, making Jack his first coffee for the morning and wondering what kind of comment he could expect to set the day’s mood. How many times Jack would casually touch him or brush close to him over the day. And then he’d started dreading the evening when everyone else would leave, and he’d pretend to go home, only to sneak down to Lisa. Then the pain would start again. Some nights it’d been all he could do not to go back up into the hub and beg Jack to help him.
The thought had crossed his mind several times in the weeks leading up to the disaster of Lisa’s final day. But he’d known in his guts that Jack would be just as likely to condemn Lisa as help her. And he’d been right.
“You’ve gone quiet,” Jack commented, having pulled the SUV back onto the road. “Having second thoughts?”
“No,” he replied. “I was thinking about Lisa.”
The admission came out of its own accord. He didn’t know if it was simply his wrung-out emotions, or all those pints he’d drunk before Jack had turned up at the pub. But he found he didn’t want to hide from Jack any more. He’d done that once before, and look how that’d turned out for him.
“Ianto—” There was an odd tone to Jack’s words. “I’ve never—I tried, probably not hard enough, to talk to you. And I know we’ve been over this, but that wasn’t Lisa.”
“I know that now. And I don’t blame you. The Lisa I knew died at Canary Warf. I realised tonight I wasn’t angry at you for killing her, I was angry at you for not—” He took a breath, emotion welling in his chest. “I was angry at you for not saving me.”
Jack had pulled up in front of his flat and turned to stare at him, brow creasing. “You wanted me to save you?”
“I don’t think I realised at the time that’s what I wanted, but it hit me tonight. I wanted you to help me. To save her like you save everyone else. I needed you, and instead you sent me back in to kill her myself.”
Jack glanced away from him, regret chasing across his features before he schooled them into his usual impassive mask.
“I shouldn’t have done that, Ianto. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight. All I knew was that you’d betrayed me. I’d trusted you in a way I’ve trusted very few people. You’ve got all the passwords to the hub and archives. I’d given you access the others didn’t have and you used it against me.”
Ianto clenched his fists, looking down into his lap as the guilt and shame at what he’d done to Jack returned.
“I’m not proud to admit it, but I think part of me wanted to punish you, to hurt you the way I was hurting,” Jack continued in a low voice. “Once you went down into the hub and I started to cool down, I realised what I’d done, not to mention Gwen gave me more than a small piece of her mind. That’s why we came down after you. I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it, and you shouldn’t have had to.”
Ianto took an unsteady breath. This hadn’t been his intention, to rehash it all. He just wanted to put it all behind him. But he could understand it. After Jack had set Myfawny on Lisa and forced him up the lift, he’d vowed to one day watch Jack suffer instead of saving his life. And tonight he’d followed through on it. But, like Jack, a few minutes of rational thought and he’d recognised the mistake he’d made. His volatile emotions toward Jack hadn’t just been the loathing and fury he'd told himself they were. Underneath that, he felt something else entirely for Jack, and it had exploded messily to the surface the second he’d realised on that alien world that Jack wasn’t breathing
“I’m sorry that I didn’t save you,” Jack murmured quietly.
“You don’t need to apologise. I’m not your responsibility.” He stared blindly out the windscreen at the darkened street beyond.
“But you are,” Jack insisted heatedly, drawing his attention. “As my employee, as my friend. And I haven’t been doing a very good job at looking out for you.”
Jack took a breath, making his shoulders expand. He ran a hand through his hair, obviously debating something in his mind.
“Ianto, I needed to know. Mandy said she saved your life. Her exact words were I know what he tried to do the night you came back from… She was talking about the Brecon Beacons, wasn’t she?”
He shifted uncomfortably, not able to look at Jack.
“You’ve already guessed, do you need to hear me say it?”
Jack reached over a took his hand. “Ianto, please.”
He sighed and shoved his free hand through his hair. “I considered it. I had the pills Owen had given me, and a bottle of vodka. I took one pill and drank most of the vodka. I was thinking about taking the rest when I called Mandy. Luckily the vodka chose that moment to kick in and I passed out before I could decide.”
Jack’s hand tightened around his. “Would you really have done it?”
“I don’t know.” His stomach had started churning uncomfortably. “I honestly don’t. I’d thought about it. After Canary Warf. After Lisa. But those people in the Brecon Beacons—”
He shuddered as the memory of the knife against his throat, and the stench of blood and meat returned to his nostrils like it’d never left, making his stomach lurch.
“I can’t talk about this anymore.” He shoved open the SUV door and lurched out into the chilly night air, breathing sharply through his nose, trying to clear the smell he knew wasn’t even there. As he hurried up the footpath to his flat, he heard the other door of the SUV slam behind him, then Jack’s footfalls catching up to him.
When he reached his door, he pulled out his keys, but his hands were shaking too much to get them into the lock.
“Here, let me.” Jack gently slipped the keys from his grasp and then opened the door for him, pushing it wide to let him go through first. He silently led Jack up to the second floor where his small flat was located. Jack was still holding his keys and let them both in.
Ianto let out a small breath of relief as he stepped across the threshold. This place didn’t feel like home, not like the flat in London he’d shared with Lisa. But it’d become a refuge on the nights he selfishly couldn’t stand to stay with Lisa, or had simply been too exhausted from dealing with Jack and everything that Torchwood entailed.
He threw off his coat and suit jacket before heading into the kitchen, immediately pulling out a bottle of scotch. Automatically he grabbed out two glasses, even though he hadn’t asked Jack if he wanted any. After the night they’d both had, he doubted Jack would refuse.
Turning, he found Jack leaning against the kitchen bench, arms crossed, watching him closely. He murmured a thanks when Ianto handed over the glass.
Ianto tossed his back in one long gulp and then turned to pour himself a second, this time sipping it more slowly.
“Ianto,” Jack said into the heavy silence. “Next time things get that bad, please, call me first. I know I haven’t exactly proven otherwise, but I’ll try to be here for you, if you need me.”
“And if I need you now, tonight?” It had to be the liquid courage talking, because he’d never before had the daring to voice his confusion of feelings for Jack out loud.
Jack inclined his head. “Then I’ll stay. We can have another drink or two. Talk or not talk, whatever you want.”
Ianto set his glass down on the counter before looking back up at Jack, keeping his expression open. “I thought I made it clear in the SUV that talking isn’t what I’m interested in.”
Jack quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. It was clear he was leaving this up to Ianto. If he really wanted this to happen, he had to make the first move. He supposed that way, Jack was making sure the day after, he couldn’t claim Jack had taken advantage of him or overwhelmed his senses.
He shifted closer, plucking Jack’s half-drunk scotch out of his hand and setting it on the bench, the slight clink it made loud in the silence. Returning his gaze to Jack, he found the other man staring at him in anticipation, but still not moving.
Ianto slowly reached up and slid his hand around Jack’s neck, fingers slipping into his hair at the base of his neck. Jack’s eyes darkened slightly, clearly enjoying it, but keeping himself frustratingly locked down.
Leaning in, Ianto brushed his lips lightly over Jack’s, teasing him, wondering what it’d take to break his resolve and get some reaction. Jack exhaled, breath swirling between them, something about it intimate and sending a flush of pleasure through him. Ianto tightened his hold in Jack’s hair and deepened the kiss, unable to resist the urge to sweep his tongue across Jack’s lower lip and then into his mouth.
Jack groaned and suddenly exploded into action, spinning them around and pinning Ianto against the bench, kissing him back with a passion that bordered on desperate. But Ianto was right there with him, overcome with the fervent desire that’d erupted in his veins. Jack was pressed against him from thighs to chest, their hips shifting restlessly against one other, the evidence of their desire obvious between them.
Ianto pushed at Jack's coat, shoving it off his shoulders and letting it pool on the floor of his kitchen, not even bothering to take care with the garment like he normally would.
Except Jack pulled back slightly, panting as he stared at him.
“Ianto, I need to know, and I’m sorry if this makes things awkward for you, but have you ever been with a man before?”
Ianto felt a flush rising in him that had nothing to do with the way Jack had been kissing him. “Does it matter?”
Jack gave a kind of half shrug. “It might. But only that I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. If you want to stop at any time, no matter what we’re doing, just tell me, okay? I don’t want you to regret anything that happens tonight. I think between the two of us, we already have enough of those.”
“I’m not going to regret this, Jack.” It was probably a stupid thing to say. Who knew what he was going to think in the morning. But right now, he needed Jack in a way he’d never needed anyone else.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Jack murmured, leaning in to trail kisses along his jaw, leaving him moaning.
“No,” he replied in a low voice.
Jack leaned back to stare at him. “No you haven’t answered, or no you haven’t been with a man before?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Now shut up and kiss me.”
A smile flitted over Jack’s lips before he closed the distance between them and caught him up in another enthusiastic kiss.
Jack tugged him away from the kitchen bench, and they started making their way toward the bedroom leaving a trail of shoes and clothes and belts and his tie and Jack’s suspenders. By the time they fell in a heap of twining limbs on the bed, they were both completely undressed and breathlessly groaning at the sensation of naked, heated skin pressing together.
Ianto couldn’t catch his breath as Jack’s hands roamed over him. It was so different from being with a woman—Jack’s hands were large and slightly roughened, his touch firm and unhesitant, finding places on Ianto’s body he hadn’t even known were pleasurable. It felt so right, never once awkward, never once causing him to question what the hell he was doing in bed with a man when once upon a time he would have sworn he was straight.
With their hands all over each other, it didn’t last long, both of them so wound up with the adrenaline from dealing with the rift and the alien earlier in the night. As Jack collapsed next to him on the bed, Ianto almost felt a stirring of disappointment that that’d been it. But he was definitely feeling undone, the edge taken off the constant stress he’d been dealing with for what seemed like months.
He'd almost drifted off when Jack got up and went to the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a damp cloth. Ianto was too sated and sleepy to even move as Jack tidied him up and then pulled the blankets over him. He closed his eyes, expecting Jack would no doubt get dressed and head back to the hub. However, the mattress dipped again, cool air swirling over his skin as Jack slid under the blankets next to him.
Ianto rolled onto his side, facing away from Jack, but subtly snuggled backwards, gratified when Jack dropped an arm around his middle and pulled him closer, Jack’s chest pressed up against his back. This was probably a bad idea. They’d agreed just this once, and for some reason he didn’t think snuggling after and Jack staying the night constituted just this once.
He definitely wasn’t complaining a few hours later, however, when he woke to feel Jack pressed hard and heavy against him. He sleepily glanced over his shoulder to find Jack’s eyes closed, sleeping, but stirring slightly. Ianto reached up a hand, threading into Jack’s hair and kissing him on the jaw, enjoying the slightly abrasive feel of Jack’s stubble against his lips and tongue.
Jack made a noise of pleasure, before searching out his lips. This time, their kiss was languid and unhurried, the same pace Jack ended up taking him a few minutes later. It was nothing like Ianto had imagined, but in the best way possible.
As he drifted off to sleep for the second time, he couldn't fight the small wave of sadness that pinched in his chest. Jack had said that tomorrow, they’d go back to whatever passed for normal in their lives. Except for him normal had been pain and wretchedness and desperation for the slightest hint of light in the darkness.
He’d found the light. And the last thing he wanted to do was go back to the darkness tomorrow.