![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Author: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: Mentions suicide/ self harm themes. Gratuitous smut ahead.
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Out of Time" , "Fragments" and if you really squint, "Combat"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13,Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31 Act 1/5, Ch 31 Act 2/5,
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 31 "Combat"
Act III
Jack looked a little amused when Ianto brought out sandwiches and tarts piled high on a tray. Ianto made a note to thank his father later. There was enough food in one bag to last for days.
It felt comfortable, familiar, and harkened to the earlier days when they both sat on opposite ends of the couch, shoes off, quiet except for the chewing and sipping of chowder in mugs.
"My father is retired," Ianto explained when Jack's brow rose at the unusual mix of food that ranged from curry sandwiches to tiny paninis. "Always experimenting with cooking and my sister," Ianto raised a grilled red pepper sandwich, "is a vegetarian."
"Large family?" Jack poked at his plate experimentally.
"Jack, eat with your mouth not with your finger and no, not really. Just an older brother and sister. Lots of cousins, nieces, and nephews though." Ianto reached over with his foot and prodded the plate closer to Jack until the older man couldn't pretend it wasn't there.
Jack gave him a martyred sigh before picking up his sandwich and making an appreciative sound when he realized it was one of Sioned's eggplant paninis.
It gave him a fuzzy, wiggly feeling in his gut to see Jack there, eating, sitting cross-legged on his couch. Ianto couldn't understand it; this was so domestic, so un-Torchwood, no aliens, no Rifts, yet it felt like he could see himself, in the dim light, eating cold sandwiches with Jack for the rest of his life.
It felt natural to tell Jack about his brother and sister, complain how his great aunt always got his name wrong, how his father and uncle were both overly enthusiastic about the upcoming special elections.
Jack listened intently as he chewed. Sometimes there was a wistful look on his face, to which Ianto would distract him with an outstretched foot tickling his ankles. And sometimes, Jack would laugh along with Ianto; a clear baritone that filled the living room and lingered long after the sound had faded.
The shadows that had discolored Jack's eyes since Ellis' death faded, but some of it still lingered like an oily film over Jack. It slowed Jack's movements, his hands a bit sluggish to reach for the food, weaker when Ianto would reach over to squeeze his fingers, his smile duller. And despite Ianto putting triangle after triangle of what he knew were Jack's favorites, Jack took only a bite or two of each. Ianto doubted he tasted anything; more likely just to appease Ianto as he would offer him a wan smile before taking a bite.
When Jack started peeling the bread off each sandwich, Ianto couldn't keep silent any longer.
"Did it help?"
Jack raised his gaze to Ianto. He tilted his head.
Ianto gulped, but a lump remained in his throat that was hard to speak around.
"The gun, the scalpel, the p-pills…" Ianto dropped his eyes to his plate. He set it away, his appetite gone. He didn't want to see what was on Jack's face.
"Did it help?"
Ianto looked up at Jack's sigh.
"No," Jack rasped. "Not really."
Oddly enough, relief uncurled the knot in his gut. Ianto nodded.
"I'm glad…sort of," Ianto murmured. "I think it would be worse if you thought it did."
Jack said nothing. He just moved the plate onto the small coffee table and sat back into the couch.
"Could you answer a question for me?" Ianto asked, his voice thick and a little unsteady.
Jack made a questioning noise.
"Before…" Ianto paused. Already, he was regretting the question but plodded on. "You said everyone was dead." Ianto fidgeted. "I don't think you were just talking about Suzie or Estelle or…Rose.
At the mention of Rose's name, Jack sighed. He tilted his head up towards the ceiling, his face unreadable.
Ianto stirred, disgust rattling in his chest. He always did have rotten timing. "You know what? Forget I ask—"
"Daleks."
Ianto stiffened.
"We—I mean the Doctor, Rose and I—were on this space station. Turned out the Daleks were getting ready for an invasion of Earth."
"You already knew what they were. Back when we were in London," Ianto remembered, his eyes widening in horror. "God…when?"
Jack gave him an inscrutable look.
Ah. Ianto raised his hands. "Let me guess. Can't answer? Time traveler's prime directive of sorts?"
"Something like that." Jack shrugged.
"Could you tell me a bit of what happened though?" Ianto asked tentatively.
"I died," Jack answered bluntly.
The words sank in. Ianto choked. "You said that before. You had died once…You came back?"
"I came back," Jack confirmed. "Although, at the time, I didn’t know it was forever. I just…woke up and the fight was over. There I was, stranded, ankle deep in Dalek dust, and…" Jack made a harsh laugh. It sounded like it hurt. "He goes off without me."
Ianto shuffled closer, drawn to the odd lilt in his voice. "He…he left?"
Jack's head rolled towards him, his eyes dull with unspoken grief. "He left." Jack turned back towards the ceiling.
"I don't even know how he was able to defeat the Daleks." Jack's eyes clouded over. "I woke up and they were just gone."
"I was the only one left alive. I checked everywhere after he was gone. No one else survived. No one else woke up. Just me." There was a minute shiver Jack couldn't hide. He flinched when Ianto tried to touch him.
"You waited for him." It wasn't a question.
There was a pregnant pause. Jack pulled up his legs and picked at his socks.
"Did you know," Jack finally said in a faraway voice, "because space is sterile, it takes a long time for things to decay?"
"Jack," Ianto choked. "How long did you wait for him?"
"There was no one left to run the station," Jack continued as if he didn't hear Ianto. "The environmental systems were the first to go. It got really hot and the bodies…" Jack's Adam apple bobbed. Jack shut his eyes. He didn't react when Ianto sat close enough that their shoulders touched.
"I tried to move as many as I could into sealed chambers, but…" Jack gagged, remembering. "God, the smell…I couldn't stay there any longer." Jack tried to shrug, but Ianto could feel his shoulders shake next to him. Ianto, though, was too frozen to do anything. It wouldn't have matter; Jack didn't look like he realized Ianto was there.
"He just left you there? Never came back?" Ianto repeated, regretting his words when he felt Jack jerk next to him. "H-how…how did you get out of there?"
Jack raised his left arm like it was too heavy. He tapped at the wide, brown leather wrist strap Ianto always saw Jack wear.
"I had this." Jack smiled tightly at Ianto. "I used to be a time agent—don't ask—it's called a vortex manipulator."
Ianto was almost afraid to touch it but he held Jack's left wrist on his lap and stroked the worn leather.
Jack watched him, his smile brittle and crooked. "He's not the only one who can time travel."
"So it's like that police box?" Ianto asked, hushed.
Jack snorted. "Not really. The TARDIS is a bit more complicated than my wrist strap. It's like he has a sports car." He wearily tapped the wrist strap before flipping it open for Ianto to inspect. "Mine is a bit more like a space hopper, really."
Ianto studied the strange silvery buttons and tiny display. There was microscopic text along the buttons, probably describing the functions, whatever they were.
"Space hopper or not," Ianto murmured, impressed, "it got you out of there." Ianto hid a shudder. He felt ill imagining Jack alone in a floating tomb. Ianto paused, his hands pulling back from Jack's wrist. "So you can time travel too, then?"
Jack shook his head. "Not really. More like I bounce through time. I had aimed for the 21st century, the best place to find the Doctor, except I got it a little wrong." Jack gestured at his left wrist in disgust. "I arrived in 1869 and this thing had burnt out, so it was useless."
"Ah." Ianto carefully stroked the skin next to the strap and noted the tan line on Jack's arm.
"I thought I would have to live through the entire 20th century waiting for a version of the Doctor that would coincide with me." Jack paused. "But he came back before that ever happened."
Ianto looked up. He sandwiched Jack's hand between his. "You don't sound particularly happy about that," he observed.
Jack looked at him sharply. He lowered his eyes to the hand Ianto held.
"Thought it would help," Jack said quietly. "I knew the Doctor could fix me once I realized I can never die, at least not permanently."
Ianto boldly threaded his fingers with Jack's when he felt the other starting to pull back.
"Did it help?" Ianto asked as he squeezed Jack's hand.
Jack's hand was lax and cool in his grasp.
"No," Jack said quietly. "But he said he was close." Jack blinked rapidly. "But then he left again and I don't know how long I'll have to wait before…" Jack sucked in his breath.
Ianto kept Jack's hand in his lap, his free hand ghosting up and down Jack's arm, over goose bumps he could feel along his arm.
"I'm glad you were able to get out of there," Ianto murmured, not looking at Jack. "I'm glad you came to London." Ianto's fingers paused over his pulse point. "I never would have met you otherwise."
Jack studied him, his face giving nothing away. "Despite everything that happened there?"
Ianto met his stare squarely, his hand holding onto Jack. He had no intention of letting go. "Despite," Ianto said firmly.
Jack closed his eyes briefly. He took a shuddering breath before reopening his eyes again. As soon as he did, he pulled until Ianto practically tumbled into his lap.
Ianto felt Jack's chest heave against him. Fathomless, blue as the sky, the ocean and just as endless, Jack stared at him.
"Despite everything?" Jack repeated.
Ianto slipped a hand up Jack's jaw, around to card through the short hairs of dark silk until his palm curved flushed to the back of Jack's head. Jack watched him, saying nothing, doing nothing, as if waiting.
"Everything," Ianto whispered. Jack's eyes closed, his lips parting. Ianto craned up while pulling Jack closer and kissed him.
"…at least rescue me from tales about me and my stuffed tiger Wobby…Long story. Just…I hope everything's alright. Call me."
Beep.
Jack sat on the cold tile floor and listened to Ianto's stumbling voicemail. He had woken up from a dream he couldn't remember, Ianto's cum sticky on his stomach, and feeling pleasantly sore everywhere.
The couch was only large enough for one of them so Jack disengaged himself from Ianto's loose-limbed embrace, intending to head back to Torchwood.
His mobile sat by Ianto's side of his bed and upon checking it, Jack discovered two missed calls from Tosh and four voice messages from Ianto. Curious, Jack crept into the bathroom, locked the door and went through all of them.
"…toaster but I doubt they could blame me this time, I was four then. I suspect one of my little cousins stuck the sugar cookie in there to warm it up. Reminds me of when Owen tried to reheat his pizza by cramming it into the toaster, remember? I smelt the smoke all the way…"
Ianto spoke into his ear like he was in front of him. The first two messages were stuttered and awkward yet completely Ianto Jones as he talked about what was happening, what it reminded him of. There was nothing spectacular about the conversation, yet the casual musings washed over Jack like a balm and he sat there, his eyes closed, listening to Ianto talk about nothing in particular.
"God, you must be sick of hearing from me by now. I hope you're not Weevil hunting alone out there. I just remembered there was some Chinese in the fridge in case you didn't want to order out. Don't worry. It's not moo shu pork. I know you said it smells like feet and I have to agree. Don't know why Owen keeps insisting on ordering it. Sometimes I'm tempted to check if his breath now smells like feet, but how to do that without him thinking I want to snog him. Not that I ever would want to snog him…"
Jack listened to all of them over and over; Ianto's rolling Welsh accent was an exotic lilt in his ear. He listened until his legs tingled with needles from staying in one position for too long. He listened until that lump in his gut shrunk. He listened until his eyes blurred for some reason.
After a while, Jack lowered his aching arm from its position of holding up the mobile to his ear. Jack studied the mobile, programmed it to save every last message, and got up with a muffled groan.
Jack shed his jacket, slipped off his boots and carefully eased back onto the couch. Ianto stirred, his eyes opening briefly, the lazy smile he gave made Jack's heart stutter.
"Thought you had gone," Ianto yawned. "Thought maybe you had left." His eyes darkened with the thought. He wiggled onto his side, his arms opening in invitation.
Dropping back into Ianto's embrace felt like coming home. Jack breathed in deeply Ianto's musky scent, felt elegant fingers ghosting over his body, his trousers, and he lifted his hips so Ianto could ease them down his legs.
"Thought that dinner idea sounded nice." Jack hummed as he felt Ianto brush his semi-erect cock against his. It ignited a thousand sparks all along his spine. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stay."
Ianto stilled for a long moment and the fear that the younger man had come to his senses darted inside Jack, stabbing him like a knife. Then, Ianto roughly pulled Jack's head to his throat and fervently kissed his hair, his brow, his throat.
"Definitely." Ianto sounded choked for some reason. "Stay. Stay for as long as you like."
The words made Jack's eyes burn. He nodded against Ianto, feeling Ianto slip his hands under his shirt, his hips rubbing against him hungrily, legs parting in invitation.
"Thank you," Jack rasped and buried himself into Ianto because there was nowhere else he would rather be.
Act IV
Additional Notes: Many thanks to
soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And
trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: Mentions suicide/ self harm themes. Gratuitous smut ahead.
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Out of Time" , "Fragments" and if you really squint, "Combat"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13,Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31 Act 1/5, Ch 31 Act 2/5,
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 31 "Combat"
Act III
Jack looked a little amused when Ianto brought out sandwiches and tarts piled high on a tray. Ianto made a note to thank his father later. There was enough food in one bag to last for days.
It felt comfortable, familiar, and harkened to the earlier days when they both sat on opposite ends of the couch, shoes off, quiet except for the chewing and sipping of chowder in mugs.
"My father is retired," Ianto explained when Jack's brow rose at the unusual mix of food that ranged from curry sandwiches to tiny paninis. "Always experimenting with cooking and my sister," Ianto raised a grilled red pepper sandwich, "is a vegetarian."
"Large family?" Jack poked at his plate experimentally.
"Jack, eat with your mouth not with your finger and no, not really. Just an older brother and sister. Lots of cousins, nieces, and nephews though." Ianto reached over with his foot and prodded the plate closer to Jack until the older man couldn't pretend it wasn't there.
Jack gave him a martyred sigh before picking up his sandwich and making an appreciative sound when he realized it was one of Sioned's eggplant paninis.
It gave him a fuzzy, wiggly feeling in his gut to see Jack there, eating, sitting cross-legged on his couch. Ianto couldn't understand it; this was so domestic, so un-Torchwood, no aliens, no Rifts, yet it felt like he could see himself, in the dim light, eating cold sandwiches with Jack for the rest of his life.
It felt natural to tell Jack about his brother and sister, complain how his great aunt always got his name wrong, how his father and uncle were both overly enthusiastic about the upcoming special elections.
Jack listened intently as he chewed. Sometimes there was a wistful look on his face, to which Ianto would distract him with an outstretched foot tickling his ankles. And sometimes, Jack would laugh along with Ianto; a clear baritone that filled the living room and lingered long after the sound had faded.
The shadows that had discolored Jack's eyes since Ellis' death faded, but some of it still lingered like an oily film over Jack. It slowed Jack's movements, his hands a bit sluggish to reach for the food, weaker when Ianto would reach over to squeeze his fingers, his smile duller. And despite Ianto putting triangle after triangle of what he knew were Jack's favorites, Jack took only a bite or two of each. Ianto doubted he tasted anything; more likely just to appease Ianto as he would offer him a wan smile before taking a bite.
When Jack started peeling the bread off each sandwich, Ianto couldn't keep silent any longer.
"Did it help?"
Jack raised his gaze to Ianto. He tilted his head.
Ianto gulped, but a lump remained in his throat that was hard to speak around.
"The gun, the scalpel, the p-pills…" Ianto dropped his eyes to his plate. He set it away, his appetite gone. He didn't want to see what was on Jack's face.
"Did it help?"
Ianto looked up at Jack's sigh.
"No," Jack rasped. "Not really."
Oddly enough, relief uncurled the knot in his gut. Ianto nodded.
"I'm glad…sort of," Ianto murmured. "I think it would be worse if you thought it did."
Jack said nothing. He just moved the plate onto the small coffee table and sat back into the couch.
"Could you answer a question for me?" Ianto asked, his voice thick and a little unsteady.
Jack made a questioning noise.
"Before…" Ianto paused. Already, he was regretting the question but plodded on. "You said everyone was dead." Ianto fidgeted. "I don't think you were just talking about Suzie or Estelle or…Rose.
At the mention of Rose's name, Jack sighed. He tilted his head up towards the ceiling, his face unreadable.
Ianto stirred, disgust rattling in his chest. He always did have rotten timing. "You know what? Forget I ask—"
"Daleks."
Ianto stiffened.
"We—I mean the Doctor, Rose and I—were on this space station. Turned out the Daleks were getting ready for an invasion of Earth."
"You already knew what they were. Back when we were in London," Ianto remembered, his eyes widening in horror. "God…when?"
Jack gave him an inscrutable look.
Ah. Ianto raised his hands. "Let me guess. Can't answer? Time traveler's prime directive of sorts?"
"Something like that." Jack shrugged.
"Could you tell me a bit of what happened though?" Ianto asked tentatively.
"I died," Jack answered bluntly.
The words sank in. Ianto choked. "You said that before. You had died once…You came back?"
"I came back," Jack confirmed. "Although, at the time, I didn’t know it was forever. I just…woke up and the fight was over. There I was, stranded, ankle deep in Dalek dust, and…" Jack made a harsh laugh. It sounded like it hurt. "He goes off without me."
Ianto shuffled closer, drawn to the odd lilt in his voice. "He…he left?"
Jack's head rolled towards him, his eyes dull with unspoken grief. "He left." Jack turned back towards the ceiling.
"I don't even know how he was able to defeat the Daleks." Jack's eyes clouded over. "I woke up and they were just gone."
"I was the only one left alive. I checked everywhere after he was gone. No one else survived. No one else woke up. Just me." There was a minute shiver Jack couldn't hide. He flinched when Ianto tried to touch him.
"You waited for him." It wasn't a question.
There was a pregnant pause. Jack pulled up his legs and picked at his socks.
"Did you know," Jack finally said in a faraway voice, "because space is sterile, it takes a long time for things to decay?"
"Jack," Ianto choked. "How long did you wait for him?"
"There was no one left to run the station," Jack continued as if he didn't hear Ianto. "The environmental systems were the first to go. It got really hot and the bodies…" Jack's Adam apple bobbed. Jack shut his eyes. He didn't react when Ianto sat close enough that their shoulders touched.
"I tried to move as many as I could into sealed chambers, but…" Jack gagged, remembering. "God, the smell…I couldn't stay there any longer." Jack tried to shrug, but Ianto could feel his shoulders shake next to him. Ianto, though, was too frozen to do anything. It wouldn't have matter; Jack didn't look like he realized Ianto was there.
"He just left you there? Never came back?" Ianto repeated, regretting his words when he felt Jack jerk next to him. "H-how…how did you get out of there?"
Jack raised his left arm like it was too heavy. He tapped at the wide, brown leather wrist strap Ianto always saw Jack wear.
"I had this." Jack smiled tightly at Ianto. "I used to be a time agent—don't ask—it's called a vortex manipulator."
Ianto was almost afraid to touch it but he held Jack's left wrist on his lap and stroked the worn leather.
Jack watched him, his smile brittle and crooked. "He's not the only one who can time travel."
"So it's like that police box?" Ianto asked, hushed.
Jack snorted. "Not really. The TARDIS is a bit more complicated than my wrist strap. It's like he has a sports car." He wearily tapped the wrist strap before flipping it open for Ianto to inspect. "Mine is a bit more like a space hopper, really."
Ianto studied the strange silvery buttons and tiny display. There was microscopic text along the buttons, probably describing the functions, whatever they were.
"Space hopper or not," Ianto murmured, impressed, "it got you out of there." Ianto hid a shudder. He felt ill imagining Jack alone in a floating tomb. Ianto paused, his hands pulling back from Jack's wrist. "So you can time travel too, then?"
Jack shook his head. "Not really. More like I bounce through time. I had aimed for the 21st century, the best place to find the Doctor, except I got it a little wrong." Jack gestured at his left wrist in disgust. "I arrived in 1869 and this thing had burnt out, so it was useless."
"Ah." Ianto carefully stroked the skin next to the strap and noted the tan line on Jack's arm.
"I thought I would have to live through the entire 20th century waiting for a version of the Doctor that would coincide with me." Jack paused. "But he came back before that ever happened."
Ianto looked up. He sandwiched Jack's hand between his. "You don't sound particularly happy about that," he observed.
Jack looked at him sharply. He lowered his eyes to the hand Ianto held.
"Thought it would help," Jack said quietly. "I knew the Doctor could fix me once I realized I can never die, at least not permanently."
Ianto boldly threaded his fingers with Jack's when he felt the other starting to pull back.
"Did it help?" Ianto asked as he squeezed Jack's hand.
Jack's hand was lax and cool in his grasp.
"No," Jack said quietly. "But he said he was close." Jack blinked rapidly. "But then he left again and I don't know how long I'll have to wait before…" Jack sucked in his breath.
Ianto kept Jack's hand in his lap, his free hand ghosting up and down Jack's arm, over goose bumps he could feel along his arm.
"I'm glad you were able to get out of there," Ianto murmured, not looking at Jack. "I'm glad you came to London." Ianto's fingers paused over his pulse point. "I never would have met you otherwise."
Jack studied him, his face giving nothing away. "Despite everything that happened there?"
Ianto met his stare squarely, his hand holding onto Jack. He had no intention of letting go. "Despite," Ianto said firmly.
Jack closed his eyes briefly. He took a shuddering breath before reopening his eyes again. As soon as he did, he pulled until Ianto practically tumbled into his lap.
Ianto felt Jack's chest heave against him. Fathomless, blue as the sky, the ocean and just as endless, Jack stared at him.
"Despite everything?" Jack repeated.
Ianto slipped a hand up Jack's jaw, around to card through the short hairs of dark silk until his palm curved flushed to the back of Jack's head. Jack watched him, saying nothing, doing nothing, as if waiting.
"Everything," Ianto whispered. Jack's eyes closed, his lips parting. Ianto craned up while pulling Jack closer and kissed him.
"…at least rescue me from tales about me and my stuffed tiger Wobby…Long story. Just…I hope everything's alright. Call me."
Beep.
Jack sat on the cold tile floor and listened to Ianto's stumbling voicemail. He had woken up from a dream he couldn't remember, Ianto's cum sticky on his stomach, and feeling pleasantly sore everywhere.
The couch was only large enough for one of them so Jack disengaged himself from Ianto's loose-limbed embrace, intending to head back to Torchwood.
His mobile sat by Ianto's side of his bed and upon checking it, Jack discovered two missed calls from Tosh and four voice messages from Ianto. Curious, Jack crept into the bathroom, locked the door and went through all of them.
"…toaster but I doubt they could blame me this time, I was four then. I suspect one of my little cousins stuck the sugar cookie in there to warm it up. Reminds me of when Owen tried to reheat his pizza by cramming it into the toaster, remember? I smelt the smoke all the way…"
Ianto spoke into his ear like he was in front of him. The first two messages were stuttered and awkward yet completely Ianto Jones as he talked about what was happening, what it reminded him of. There was nothing spectacular about the conversation, yet the casual musings washed over Jack like a balm and he sat there, his eyes closed, listening to Ianto talk about nothing in particular.
"God, you must be sick of hearing from me by now. I hope you're not Weevil hunting alone out there. I just remembered there was some Chinese in the fridge in case you didn't want to order out. Don't worry. It's not moo shu pork. I know you said it smells like feet and I have to agree. Don't know why Owen keeps insisting on ordering it. Sometimes I'm tempted to check if his breath now smells like feet, but how to do that without him thinking I want to snog him. Not that I ever would want to snog him…"
Jack listened to all of them over and over; Ianto's rolling Welsh accent was an exotic lilt in his ear. He listened until his legs tingled with needles from staying in one position for too long. He listened until that lump in his gut shrunk. He listened until his eyes blurred for some reason.
After a while, Jack lowered his aching arm from its position of holding up the mobile to his ear. Jack studied the mobile, programmed it to save every last message, and got up with a muffled groan.
Jack shed his jacket, slipped off his boots and carefully eased back onto the couch. Ianto stirred, his eyes opening briefly, the lazy smile he gave made Jack's heart stutter.
"Thought you had gone," Ianto yawned. "Thought maybe you had left." His eyes darkened with the thought. He wiggled onto his side, his arms opening in invitation.
Dropping back into Ianto's embrace felt like coming home. Jack breathed in deeply Ianto's musky scent, felt elegant fingers ghosting over his body, his trousers, and he lifted his hips so Ianto could ease them down his legs.
"Thought that dinner idea sounded nice." Jack hummed as he felt Ianto brush his semi-erect cock against his. It ignited a thousand sparks all along his spine. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stay."
Ianto stilled for a long moment and the fear that the younger man had come to his senses darted inside Jack, stabbing him like a knife. Then, Ianto roughly pulled Jack's head to his throat and fervently kissed his hair, his brow, his throat.
"Definitely." Ianto sounded choked for some reason. "Stay. Stay for as long as you like."
The words made Jack's eyes burn. He nodded against Ianto, feeling Ianto slip his hands under his shirt, his hips rubbing against him hungrily, legs parting in invitation.
"Thank you," Jack rasped and buried himself into Ianto because there was nowhere else he would rather be.
Act IV
Additional Notes: Many thanks to
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Date: 2008-06-24 09:10 pm (UTC)Brilliant.
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Date: 2008-06-24 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-03-03 02:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-04 03:31 am (UTC)Thank you for the heads up! Now what are you doing here? I know you read this! LOL