Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent (Jack/Ianto)
Title: Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent
Fandom: Torchwood.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Something unsaid always hangs in the air.
Author's Notes: Another prompt from tumblr. I hope you like it!
Jack had found out long ago - years ago, long before the Time Agency and the Doctor and Torchwood - that people were much more comfortable talking about their worries in the darkness. It was a strangely universal thing but humans were always the most affected ones - the night loosened their tongues and opened their hearts and Jack himself had felt it happen to him often enough.
“Would you leave me if I told you what I’ve done?”
Ianto had asked him this or some similar variation of it quite a few times and Jack had always replied the same way. “Would you?”
It always made his lover’s face darken and he always turned his back to Jack and fell asleep, and Jack kept hiding the hurt it induced. He’d never wanted to make Ianto close up; he actually wanted them to have a proper, nice discussion on the fact that they both kept secrets from one another and yes, that wasn’t good for a relationship, but they could surely work past it.
They’d never got that far, though. It weighed between them, invisible and overwhelming and smothering, and Ianto spent his days and evenings passionate and wonderful in Jack’s arms and hid his insecurities under the veil of night. Jack always wished he could see him in the moments when he asked that faithful question, but he only got to hear the tension in his voice and the tears he could never really get out.
It was, in one word, maddening.
It wasn’t like Jack didn’t have his moments of wanting to spill everything out. He did, and it drove him insane to know that he was inches away from having just that and that Ianto kept taking it away by chickening out right in the middle of it all. It was clear that his lover wanted to talk and yet couldn’t find the strength to do it and sometimes Jack felt like screaming because it left him powerless and disappointed and he hated that more than anything.
And yet, it just kept going. In the dead of night; sometimes when Ianto thought that Jack was asleep. It’s so easy to say it to a crowd, he’d said, but not to you. I just can’t say anything to you. I can’t afford imagining that you’d hate me for who I was.
Jack had never revealed himself to be awake, but he wished he could tell him that it’d never happen; that he could never hate him no matter what he had once done.
And, much to his own embarrassment, he never got the courage either. He just reached for Ianto and brought him closer in his arms, closing his eyes for another night of uneasy sleep as they both fell into it together.
Which was why one day, in bright daylight, he decided that it was time to take the initiative.
“For the sole reason that you don’t seem to have the guts to do it,” Jack started, cornering a rather startled Ianto in one of the sub-levels of the Archives, “I’m going to. Try to be delicate.” As Ianto kept staring at him, even more lost in his puzzlement, Jack leant closer. “Ianto, would you leave me if I told you what I’d done?”
“Never,” Ianto said, voice brisk and hoarse but certain, and stared down at his feet as soon as the admission leave his lips.
“Thank you. And please remember,” he added, dropping a small kiss on Ianto’s forehead, “that the very same thing goes to you, always.”
And as strange as it was, that was enough for them both.
Fandom: Torchwood.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Something unsaid always hangs in the air.
Author's Notes: Another prompt from tumblr. I hope you like it!
Jack had found out long ago - years ago, long before the Time Agency and the Doctor and Torchwood - that people were much more comfortable talking about their worries in the darkness. It was a strangely universal thing but humans were always the most affected ones - the night loosened their tongues and opened their hearts and Jack himself had felt it happen to him often enough.
“Would you leave me if I told you what I’ve done?”
Ianto had asked him this or some similar variation of it quite a few times and Jack had always replied the same way. “Would you?”
It always made his lover’s face darken and he always turned his back to Jack and fell asleep, and Jack kept hiding the hurt it induced. He’d never wanted to make Ianto close up; he actually wanted them to have a proper, nice discussion on the fact that they both kept secrets from one another and yes, that wasn’t good for a relationship, but they could surely work past it.
They’d never got that far, though. It weighed between them, invisible and overwhelming and smothering, and Ianto spent his days and evenings passionate and wonderful in Jack’s arms and hid his insecurities under the veil of night. Jack always wished he could see him in the moments when he asked that faithful question, but he only got to hear the tension in his voice and the tears he could never really get out.
It was, in one word, maddening.
It wasn’t like Jack didn’t have his moments of wanting to spill everything out. He did, and it drove him insane to know that he was inches away from having just that and that Ianto kept taking it away by chickening out right in the middle of it all. It was clear that his lover wanted to talk and yet couldn’t find the strength to do it and sometimes Jack felt like screaming because it left him powerless and disappointed and he hated that more than anything.
And yet, it just kept going. In the dead of night; sometimes when Ianto thought that Jack was asleep. It’s so easy to say it to a crowd, he’d said, but not to you. I just can’t say anything to you. I can’t afford imagining that you’d hate me for who I was.
Jack had never revealed himself to be awake, but he wished he could tell him that it’d never happen; that he could never hate him no matter what he had once done.
And, much to his own embarrassment, he never got the courage either. He just reached for Ianto and brought him closer in his arms, closing his eyes for another night of uneasy sleep as they both fell into it together.
Which was why one day, in bright daylight, he decided that it was time to take the initiative.
“For the sole reason that you don’t seem to have the guts to do it,” Jack started, cornering a rather startled Ianto in one of the sub-levels of the Archives, “I’m going to. Try to be delicate.” As Ianto kept staring at him, even more lost in his puzzlement, Jack leant closer. “Ianto, would you leave me if I told you what I’d done?”
“Never,” Ianto said, voice brisk and hoarse but certain, and stared down at his feet as soon as the admission leave his lips.
“Thank you. And please remember,” he added, dropping a small kiss on Ianto’s forehead, “that the very same thing goes to you, always.”
And as strange as it was, that was enough for them both.