Something Blue (3/3)
Title: Something Blue (3/3)
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: graphic dub-con, spoilers through 2x09
Summary: After Gwen’s wedding, Jack is hurt, Ianto is forgiving, and things go too far.
Notes: Thank you all for your reviews! :) I’m glad this has been coming along in-character and realistic up to this point. This chapter is a bit longer, but not long enough to be stretched into two more, I don’t think. As always, your feedback is fantastic!
part 1 || part 2
…
Jack woke with a headache.
It wasn’t unheard of, even for him-he’d built up too much of a resistance to get drunk, but somehow the hangover always managed to persist.
All the shit, none of the benefits, he thought sourly, rolling onto his back. Still, it could have been worse. He’d died of dehydration once. Up against that, he’d take a dry mouth and a sore head any day.
And that wasn’t all that was sore. He grinned lazily, recalling the night before. Sex with Ianto was always fantastic, and the fact that he trusted Jack enough-the fact that Jack trusted him enough-to let Jack lose his inhibitions…well, that said something. Weddings always brought up memories that he’d buried for a reason, and as angry and upset as he’d been last night, he’d gone to bed sated and calm, if alone. He felt his grin broaden, one hand drifting down his stomach to curl loosely around his cock. He pictured Ianto’s face, flushed and damp with lust and exertion, chanting in Welsh as Jack pounded into him-
His alarm clock went off, blaring, and Jack groaned, letting go of his cock and rolling to turn it off. So much for a leisurely morning wank-that was the problem with drinking. It made his head too heavy, and fucked up his sleep schedule.
Sighing, he spared the clock another glance. 6:30. He grinned. Ianto would be in to work in half an hour-maybe Jack could talk him into a morning blowjob before the others got to work…maybe even a shag in the Archives, if Ianto was in a particularly generous mood.
Feeling considerably brighter about the day, Jack rolled out of bed, dressing quickly and climbing up into his office. Everything was still where he’d abandoned it the night before. Odd, he mused. Ianto had an almost compulsive habit of straightening things up before leaving the Hub. Looking at the mess on his desk, though…Jack smirked. He must have tired the hell out of Ianto-the scattered paperwork and empty decanter were forgivable enough, but the still half-full coffee mug? “Slipping, Ianto,” Jack chided aloud, picking it up and carrying it over to the kitchenette. He rinsed the mug and set it aside to dry before heading back to his desk.
Much as he’d love to fantasize about Ianto all morning (or at least for the next fifteen minutes, until Ianto got to the Hub and turned fantasy into reality, and Jack really hoped he’d wear the grey pinstripes today), there was work to do. Jack replaced the decanter and glass into his desk drawer, making a mental note to wash both and refill the decanter, before pulling a stack of unfinished paperwork toward him.
An indignant shriek from Myfanwy startled him out of his concentration some time later, and he snapped his head up. The pteradon shrieked again and Jack sighed, pushing himself to his feet and making his way to the main area of the Hub. He craned his neck to lok up at Myfanwy’s perch. “Hey,” he yelled up to her. “Relax, will you? Ianto will be into feed you soon.” She made a faintly chagrined sound-idly, he wondered if pteradons could be chagrined-and fell quiet. Jack shook his head, turning back to his office and glancing at his watch.
8:17.
He frowned. Ianto was always in by seven, barring some emergency or Jack’s explicit orders. He’d been fine when he left the Hub last night, and Jack sure as hell hadn’t ordered him to stay home. So where was he?
His mobile was in his hand before he realized he’d reached for it, and he smiled wryly. That was the thing about Ianto-his uncanny ability to make Jack’s body do things without his mind’s permission.
Or at least, that was what Jack told himself.
Ianto picked up on the third ring, his voice sounding hoarse and exhausted. “Hello?”
“Good morning, sunshine,” Jack said cheerfully, forwarding the call to his earpiece and plopping down in his chair. “Where are you?”
“I’m-home.” The pause made Jack frown. “I don’t think I can come in today.”
If Jack hadn’t been frowning before, he was now. “Why?”
Ianto’s breathing hitched and Jack heard a faint creaking-bed springs? “Stomach bug,” Ianto said. “I’ve got a fever, and I’ve been throwing up all morning. I called Owen, he said I should stay home, just to be safe. No sense getting Tosh sick. Or you, if you can get sick.”
“I can,” Jack said absently, running the numbers in his head. Bad enough having Gwen gone, but with Ianto out and Owen barely functioning, that didn’t leave a lot of manpower if anything were to happen. “You’re sure you can’t come in?”
There was a pause on the other end. “If you really need me-”
Jack could hear the weariness in his voice and mentally slapped himself. Ianto never asked for days off-if he thought he couldn’t come in, there was a reason for it. “No, never mind. Dumb question, sorry.”
“Are you sure?”
The relief in Ianto’s voice was audible, and Jack felt a stab of guilt. “Absolutely. Stay home, get some slep. Take a hot shower.” He grinned. “Not too hot, though, or I might get jealous.”
Ianto laughed softly. “I’m sure you’ll cope.”
Jack chuckled. “A day without you? I’ll go into caffeine withdrawal.” He leaned back in his chair. “You left your tie here, by the way,” he said idly, feigning nonchalance. As if emerging from his shower to see Ianto’s tie still looped around his bed frame hadn’t made him need another shower.
Ianto’s response was decidedly less than kinky. “Did I?”
“Mmhm,” Jack purred into the phone.
“I’ll grab it tomorrow.” More creaking, and a soft gasp of pain. Jack felt his frown return.
“Ianto?”
“I’m fine.” Liar, Jack thought. “I think I’m going to take that shower. I’ll have my mobile on, if you need me.”
Something in his tone sounded…off. Jack bit the inside of his cheek, but didn’t press. “Feel better.”
“Thanks.”
Jack disconnected the call just as the inner alarm sounded, the cog door rolling back as Owen and Tosh came in, both looking a little worse for wear. Jack got to his feet, leaning against the doorway of his office. “Hey,” he called. “Just got off the phone with Ianto. He’s not coming in today, so we’re going to be stretched a little tighter than we thought.”
“Right,” Tosh said thinly, walking straight past him to her station without sparing him so much as a good morning smile.
Jack raised his eyebrows after her, then turned to Owen. “My office for a minute, if you could.”
He didn’t miss the sharp glance Tosh threw in their direction, but Owen’s face was carefully blank as he made his way into Jack’s office. “Yeah?”
“You talked to Ianto last night, right?” A quick flack of shock darted across Owen’s features. “How is he?”
Owen’s entire body was one straight line of tension. “What do you mean, how is he? He’s exhausted, and in pain, and not too happy with you, to be completely honest.”
Not exactly the answer he’d been expecting. “He’s-what?” Jack frowned. “How is Ianto being sick my fault, exactly?”
Owen opened his mouth, then closed it. Jack could practically hear the gears turning. “Too many late hours’ll fuck up your immune system,” he said finally. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t crashed before now. Is there anything else?”
His tone was faintly hostile. What the hell was it, bitch out the boss day? Jack shook his head. “Yeah, that’s it. Get started on the autopsy for that Nostrovite from yesterday. Team meeting at noon as usual.” Owen nodded curtly and left the office, and Jack sighed, reclining back in his chair and reaching for a coffee mug that wasn’t there.
He missed Ianto already.
Uncomfortably silent or not, the morning flew by all too quickly, Jack’s paperwork interrupted by a Weevil sighting-on the Plass of all places. Jack went after it alone, dragging it back to the cells by the shoulders and trying to figure out just which god he’d pissed off to be having this shitty of a day.
(All of them, probably, by this point, but that wasn’t the point.)
By the time he’d cleaned up and dragged himself into the boardroom, Tosh and Owen were already there, speaking in low, hushed voices, their heads close together. Jack cleared his throat and they looked up at him, almost guiltily, like schoolchildren caught gossiping. “Not plotting another mutiny, are you?” he asked, only half-joking. “I’m still sore from the last one.”
Neither of them returned his grin. “No,” Tosh said flatly. “Can we start?”
Jack shrugged, motioning for her to speak and trying to figure out what exactly he’d done. It was one thing for Owen to be angry at him-Owen was always angry at someone, just a matter of percentage that it would end up being Jack most of the time-but it took serious effort to get Tosh mad.
She and Owen finished their reports fairly quickly, and Jack forced himself to pay attention. However confused he was, it wouldn’t do any good to drift off and find himself short on information that might end up being important. “Great,” he said when they’d finished. “Good work, both of you. Hopefully things’ll stay quiet, and we’ll be able to make an early day of it.”
Tosh didn’t smile. “Are we done?”
“No, I don’t think we are.” Jack frowned at both of them. “What the hell’s going on with you two?”
“Why don’t you ask Ianto?” Tosh snapped.
“Tosh,” Owen said, tone warning. “Just-”
Jack cut him off. “What about Ianto? He was fine when he left here.”
“If you think that, then there’s no point in talking about it.” Tosh closed her laptop and swept out of the room.
Jack got to his feet. “Toshiko, I’m talking to you-”
Owen set a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll talk to her.” His voice was calm, but his face was just as angry as Tosh’s had been. Jack nodded curtly and Owen took a step after Tosh, then turned back to him. “Do you get CCTV in your quarters, Jack?”
The question caught him off guard. “Yes.”
“You might want to watch the footage from last night, then.”
He left the room, pausing only to speak quietly to Tosh before making his way down to the autopsy bay. Jack watched him go, torn halfway between anger and confusion.
CCTV it was, then.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
Alcohol didn’t make him drunk anymore, and he remembered every event he saw played out in front of him. He remembered tying Ianto down, the cool fear in Ianto’s voice when he’d demanded to be released. He remembered every searing kiss, every brush of Ianto’s fingers over his skin.
But-
He could have sworn he’d lubed his fingers. He never forgot to-he’d never-
“Jack, I’m not-don’t-”
Oh God.
Oh, God.
He made himself watch, fists clenched so tight he could feel blood welling under his nails. Every gasp of pain he’d mistaken for pleasure, every clench of Ianto’s fingers he’d been proud of earning…
When his onscreen self disappeared into the bathroom and Ianto cleaned himself off with a rapidly-reddening cloth, Jack turned off the tape, feeling sick.
How had he not noticed? How the hell had he not noticed?
Tosh and Owen were waiting for him when he emerged from his office. It took him three times to get his voice to work. “Where-” His voice caught in his throat and he swallowed hard. “Where is he?”
“Home,” Owen still looked fairly livid, but some of the anger had gone out of his eyes, and Jack wondered just how awful he looked. “We dropped him off on our way in.”
Jack nodded, taking a breath and picking up his greatcoat. “I’ll take Ianto’s car. The SUV is here if you need it. Call me if anything comes up.”
“Jack.”
Tosh’s voice was quiet, but brimming with enough emotion to stop Jack in his tracks. He turned back to her, half-fearing what he’d see on her face. Most of the blazing anger was gone, replaced by worry and fear, but firm resolve. “Don’t hurt him like this again, Jack,” she said. “Or you’ll get more than just the cold shoulder.’
He laughed shortly, humorlessly. “If I ever hurt him like this again, I’m giving you both permission to shoot me until I don’t come back anymore.”
A faint smile tugged Tosh’s lips up, and Jack did his best to return it before leaving the Hub.
Ianto opened the door before Jack could even knock, and Jack caught his breath at the sight of him. He was pale, dark circles under his eyes and lines of pain tight around his mouth. “Tosh called me,” he said quietly.
“I thought she might.” Jack did his best to smile, feeling hollow. “How-how are you?”
“I’ll live.” Ianto stepped back to let Jack in, hands coming up automatically to take Jack’s coat. Jack let him, moving on instinct, feeling a pang at the utter domesticity of the simple motion. “I’ve got coffee on. Do you want a cup?”
He was already moving away toward the kitchen. Jack caught his arm. “Ianto, we need to talk.”
“I know,” Ianto said quietly, his eyes falling to Jack’s grip on his arm. Immediately, Jack relaxed his grip, and Ianto’s expression softened. “But we don’t need to do that standing in the hallway.”
Something in his tone soothed Jack very slightly, and he followed Ianto into the kitchen. He sat down at the table, watching him make coffee, the slight stiffness marring his usual grace. It was his fault, he thought with a pang. God-how did he even begin to apologize for this?
Ianto sat down across from him-Jack caught the wince before Ianto’s blank expression slid back into place-and handed one mug to Jack, keeping the other. He took a long sip and then set his mug down. “So,” he said softly. “Where do you want to start?”
Jack swallowed. “Ianto, I’m-”
“I’m not interested in an apology, Jack,” Ianto said, effectively cutting him off. “There’s no point, and it’s not going to change anything. I just want to understand what happened.”
Jack stared at him. “What?”
“I’m not an idiot, Jack,” Ianto said, simple and quiet, and Jack felt a pang-he’d said the same thing last night. “Something was wrong last night. What you did-” he stopped, took a breath, and started again. “You never would have done what you did if you’d been okay.”
“I…” Jack closed his eyes, trying to comprehend. “I got lost,” he said finally. “Everything came together and I…I was married once.” Ianto said nothing, and Jack looked up sharply. “You know?” Ianto nodded, motioning for Jack to continue, and Jack swallowed, taking a sip of his coffee. “Seeing Gwen’s wedding…it just brought everything back. How she looked on our wedding day. Our honeymoon.” He laughed softly, feeling the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. “I looked her right in the eyes and said ‘til death do us part.’” Memories threatened to overwhelm him-a stifling hospital ward, her hand slackening in his, cold lips. “It did.”
Warm fingers curled around his and he looked up to meet Ianto’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” Ianto murmured, sincerity softening his accent.
Jack squeezed his hand, grateful for the contact, slight as it was. “It doesn’t excuse what I did. I shouldn’t have let my pain cloud-I shouldn’t have hurt you.”
“No,” Ianto agreed. He didn’t let go of Jack’s hand. “But I didn’t stop you, either.”
Jack shook his head. “It’s completely different. This isn’t your fault.” The words dried his mouth, but he made himself keep speaking. “Ianto, I forced-”
Ianto pulled his hand back. “Don’t, Jack.” Jack fell silent, chewing the inside of his cheek, and Ianto took a shaking breath. “Jack, if it had been anyone other than you, don’t you think I’d have had them unconscious if they’d even thought about doing what you did?” Jack opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Ianto offered him a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It was you. I let my feelings for you distract me. We both crossed a line, Jack.”
No, Jack wanted to say. I crossed a line, and pulled you over it. “Still, it doesn’t-”
“Jack.” Ianto cut him off. “It’s done.”
His tone left no room for argument, but Jack found room anyway. “So you’re just going to forgive me? Ianto, it can’t be that easy!”
“What do you want me to do, Jack?” Ianto spread his hands, looking almost helpless. “Cry? Break down? Flinch every time you touch me? We don’t have the liberty for that, and it won’t do either of us any good.”
Jack took a shaking breath. “Ianto, you can’t just let this go.”
“I didn’t say I would.” Ianto curled both hands around his coffee mug, and Jack had never envied a piece of ceramic so much in his life. “But that doesn’t mean I have to break in order to heal.”
“So…” Jack turned his own mug in his hand. “Where do we go from here?”
“Honestly?” Ianto shook his head. “I don’t know.”
They sat without speaking for several moments, the soft gurgling of Ianto’s dishwasher the only sound. Jack broke the silence. “I don’t want to lose this. Us.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow at him. “You say that like we’re a couple.”
“Aren’t we?”
Ianto was quiet. “I don’t know.” Unsure how to respond, Jack looked down at his coffee until Ianto took his hand again. “But I’d like us to try.”
Relief flooding his system like Boeshane wine, Jack lifted Ianto’s hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against his knuckles, trying to press all of his emotions into his lips. Ianto allowed the touch for a moment, then gently squeezed Jack’s fingers. Jack loosened his grip. “We’re going to need to set boundaries,” Ianto murmured, and Jack nearly laughed. Typical Ianto, setting up a game plan, all organization and lists. It was so beautifully normal that Jack wondered if maybe Ianto was okay after all. “Sex is out of the question, obviously.” Normally, Jack would make a joke; now, he simply nodded. He caught the spark of gratefulness in Ianto’s eyes before he kept speaking. “And I need-I need to know that you trust me, Jack. If something’s wrong, if you’re hurting-you need to tell me.”
“It has to go both ways,” Jack pointed out. Ianto looked confused, and Jack tightened his grip on Ianto’s hand as much as he dared. “If I do anything-anything-that hurts you, you tell me. I’ll stop.”
Ianto smiled faintly. “Will you?”
Jack winced. Okay, he’d earned that one. “If I don’t, then stop me.” He dared an attempt at humor. “And if I don’t stop, shoot me. I’ll come back.” Ianto’s smile turned a bit more genuine, and Jack grinned back at him.
They could get through this.
Jack stayed long enough to finish his coffee, keeping one hand curled loosely around Ianto’s the entire time, ready to let go at any sign of discomfort from Ianto. Despite Ianto’s insistence that he didn’t need a breakdown, Jack couldn’t help but worry that there was one coming. And in any case, Jack hadn’t earned his trust back yet, and wouldn’t be likely to, not for a long time.
Ianto walked with him to the door, moving slowly and carefully, and it took every ounce of Jack’s self-control not to slide an arm around his waist to support him. But Ianto shot him a warning glance when Jack made the slightest twitch to help him, and Jack didn’t press his luck.
When Ianto helped him into his coat, though, smoothing his hands over the shoulders to remove any traces of lint, Jack felt his self-control waver. “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, voice coming out far hoarser than he’d intended.
For half an instant, Jack thought he’d agree, and he felt a curl of worry-the last thing he wanted was Ianto pushing himself too quickly. But Ianto shook his head. “Not yet,” he murmured, and Jack breathed a soft sigh of relief even as he felt a twinge of regret. He reached up, laying one hand against Jack’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Jack turned his head into the touch, pressing a quick kiss to his palm. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
Ianto hesitated only slightly before nodding. “Of course.” He smiled. “I trust you one day without coffee, but two? I’d fear for Cardiff.”
Jack laughed, kissing Ianto’s hand again. “I should go,” he murmured against his skin.
“Yes.” Ianto drew his hand away. Jack smiled at him in farewell, slipping out the door.
He was halfway down the hall when Ianto’s voice stopped him. “Jack?”
Jack turned back to him. Framed in the open door, Ianto looked every inch his twenty-five years, and Jack was struck-not for the first time-by how young he was. “Yeah?”
“We’re…” Ianto swallowed visibly, his grip on the door frame tightening. “Are we going to be okay?”
It wasn’t intended as a loaded question, Jack was sure of that much. But every bit of Ianto’s fear and pain and uncertainty was poured into the words, and there was no right answer. Jack met his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I swear, Ianto-I’m going to try.”
Not a perfect answer, not by a long shot. But Ianto smiled, soft and genuine, and Jack returned it.
Not perfect.
But a start.
...
And that's the end! I know a lot of you were hoping for a crazy confrontation, but it just didn't seem right for the characters. The story isn't as resolved as I'd like it to be, though, so question for all of you--would you be interested in a sequel? It would deal with more of the fallout, set before (and possibly during) From Out of the Rain.
Thank you all for your support and wonderful feedback during this fic! It was hard to write, but I had a good time writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. :)
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: graphic dub-con, spoilers through 2x09
Summary: After Gwen’s wedding, Jack is hurt, Ianto is forgiving, and things go too far.
Notes: Thank you all for your reviews! :) I’m glad this has been coming along in-character and realistic up to this point. This chapter is a bit longer, but not long enough to be stretched into two more, I don’t think. As always, your feedback is fantastic!
part 1 || part 2
…
Jack woke with a headache.
It wasn’t unheard of, even for him-he’d built up too much of a resistance to get drunk, but somehow the hangover always managed to persist.
All the shit, none of the benefits, he thought sourly, rolling onto his back. Still, it could have been worse. He’d died of dehydration once. Up against that, he’d take a dry mouth and a sore head any day.
And that wasn’t all that was sore. He grinned lazily, recalling the night before. Sex with Ianto was always fantastic, and the fact that he trusted Jack enough-the fact that Jack trusted him enough-to let Jack lose his inhibitions…well, that said something. Weddings always brought up memories that he’d buried for a reason, and as angry and upset as he’d been last night, he’d gone to bed sated and calm, if alone. He felt his grin broaden, one hand drifting down his stomach to curl loosely around his cock. He pictured Ianto’s face, flushed and damp with lust and exertion, chanting in Welsh as Jack pounded into him-
His alarm clock went off, blaring, and Jack groaned, letting go of his cock and rolling to turn it off. So much for a leisurely morning wank-that was the problem with drinking. It made his head too heavy, and fucked up his sleep schedule.
Sighing, he spared the clock another glance. 6:30. He grinned. Ianto would be in to work in half an hour-maybe Jack could talk him into a morning blowjob before the others got to work…maybe even a shag in the Archives, if Ianto was in a particularly generous mood.
Feeling considerably brighter about the day, Jack rolled out of bed, dressing quickly and climbing up into his office. Everything was still where he’d abandoned it the night before. Odd, he mused. Ianto had an almost compulsive habit of straightening things up before leaving the Hub. Looking at the mess on his desk, though…Jack smirked. He must have tired the hell out of Ianto-the scattered paperwork and empty decanter were forgivable enough, but the still half-full coffee mug? “Slipping, Ianto,” Jack chided aloud, picking it up and carrying it over to the kitchenette. He rinsed the mug and set it aside to dry before heading back to his desk.
Much as he’d love to fantasize about Ianto all morning (or at least for the next fifteen minutes, until Ianto got to the Hub and turned fantasy into reality, and Jack really hoped he’d wear the grey pinstripes today), there was work to do. Jack replaced the decanter and glass into his desk drawer, making a mental note to wash both and refill the decanter, before pulling a stack of unfinished paperwork toward him.
An indignant shriek from Myfanwy startled him out of his concentration some time later, and he snapped his head up. The pteradon shrieked again and Jack sighed, pushing himself to his feet and making his way to the main area of the Hub. He craned his neck to lok up at Myfanwy’s perch. “Hey,” he yelled up to her. “Relax, will you? Ianto will be into feed you soon.” She made a faintly chagrined sound-idly, he wondered if pteradons could be chagrined-and fell quiet. Jack shook his head, turning back to his office and glancing at his watch.
8:17.
He frowned. Ianto was always in by seven, barring some emergency or Jack’s explicit orders. He’d been fine when he left the Hub last night, and Jack sure as hell hadn’t ordered him to stay home. So where was he?
His mobile was in his hand before he realized he’d reached for it, and he smiled wryly. That was the thing about Ianto-his uncanny ability to make Jack’s body do things without his mind’s permission.
Or at least, that was what Jack told himself.
Ianto picked up on the third ring, his voice sounding hoarse and exhausted. “Hello?”
“Good morning, sunshine,” Jack said cheerfully, forwarding the call to his earpiece and plopping down in his chair. “Where are you?”
“I’m-home.” The pause made Jack frown. “I don’t think I can come in today.”
If Jack hadn’t been frowning before, he was now. “Why?”
Ianto’s breathing hitched and Jack heard a faint creaking-bed springs? “Stomach bug,” Ianto said. “I’ve got a fever, and I’ve been throwing up all morning. I called Owen, he said I should stay home, just to be safe. No sense getting Tosh sick. Or you, if you can get sick.”
“I can,” Jack said absently, running the numbers in his head. Bad enough having Gwen gone, but with Ianto out and Owen barely functioning, that didn’t leave a lot of manpower if anything were to happen. “You’re sure you can’t come in?”
There was a pause on the other end. “If you really need me-”
Jack could hear the weariness in his voice and mentally slapped himself. Ianto never asked for days off-if he thought he couldn’t come in, there was a reason for it. “No, never mind. Dumb question, sorry.”
“Are you sure?”
The relief in Ianto’s voice was audible, and Jack felt a stab of guilt. “Absolutely. Stay home, get some slep. Take a hot shower.” He grinned. “Not too hot, though, or I might get jealous.”
Ianto laughed softly. “I’m sure you’ll cope.”
Jack chuckled. “A day without you? I’ll go into caffeine withdrawal.” He leaned back in his chair. “You left your tie here, by the way,” he said idly, feigning nonchalance. As if emerging from his shower to see Ianto’s tie still looped around his bed frame hadn’t made him need another shower.
Ianto’s response was decidedly less than kinky. “Did I?”
“Mmhm,” Jack purred into the phone.
“I’ll grab it tomorrow.” More creaking, and a soft gasp of pain. Jack felt his frown return.
“Ianto?”
“I’m fine.” Liar, Jack thought. “I think I’m going to take that shower. I’ll have my mobile on, if you need me.”
Something in his tone sounded…off. Jack bit the inside of his cheek, but didn’t press. “Feel better.”
“Thanks.”
Jack disconnected the call just as the inner alarm sounded, the cog door rolling back as Owen and Tosh came in, both looking a little worse for wear. Jack got to his feet, leaning against the doorway of his office. “Hey,” he called. “Just got off the phone with Ianto. He’s not coming in today, so we’re going to be stretched a little tighter than we thought.”
“Right,” Tosh said thinly, walking straight past him to her station without sparing him so much as a good morning smile.
Jack raised his eyebrows after her, then turned to Owen. “My office for a minute, if you could.”
He didn’t miss the sharp glance Tosh threw in their direction, but Owen’s face was carefully blank as he made his way into Jack’s office. “Yeah?”
“You talked to Ianto last night, right?” A quick flack of shock darted across Owen’s features. “How is he?”
Owen’s entire body was one straight line of tension. “What do you mean, how is he? He’s exhausted, and in pain, and not too happy with you, to be completely honest.”
Not exactly the answer he’d been expecting. “He’s-what?” Jack frowned. “How is Ianto being sick my fault, exactly?”
Owen opened his mouth, then closed it. Jack could practically hear the gears turning. “Too many late hours’ll fuck up your immune system,” he said finally. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t crashed before now. Is there anything else?”
His tone was faintly hostile. What the hell was it, bitch out the boss day? Jack shook his head. “Yeah, that’s it. Get started on the autopsy for that Nostrovite from yesterday. Team meeting at noon as usual.” Owen nodded curtly and left the office, and Jack sighed, reclining back in his chair and reaching for a coffee mug that wasn’t there.
He missed Ianto already.
Uncomfortably silent or not, the morning flew by all too quickly, Jack’s paperwork interrupted by a Weevil sighting-on the Plass of all places. Jack went after it alone, dragging it back to the cells by the shoulders and trying to figure out just which god he’d pissed off to be having this shitty of a day.
(All of them, probably, by this point, but that wasn’t the point.)
By the time he’d cleaned up and dragged himself into the boardroom, Tosh and Owen were already there, speaking in low, hushed voices, their heads close together. Jack cleared his throat and they looked up at him, almost guiltily, like schoolchildren caught gossiping. “Not plotting another mutiny, are you?” he asked, only half-joking. “I’m still sore from the last one.”
Neither of them returned his grin. “No,” Tosh said flatly. “Can we start?”
Jack shrugged, motioning for her to speak and trying to figure out what exactly he’d done. It was one thing for Owen to be angry at him-Owen was always angry at someone, just a matter of percentage that it would end up being Jack most of the time-but it took serious effort to get Tosh mad.
She and Owen finished their reports fairly quickly, and Jack forced himself to pay attention. However confused he was, it wouldn’t do any good to drift off and find himself short on information that might end up being important. “Great,” he said when they’d finished. “Good work, both of you. Hopefully things’ll stay quiet, and we’ll be able to make an early day of it.”
Tosh didn’t smile. “Are we done?”
“No, I don’t think we are.” Jack frowned at both of them. “What the hell’s going on with you two?”
“Why don’t you ask Ianto?” Tosh snapped.
“Tosh,” Owen said, tone warning. “Just-”
Jack cut him off. “What about Ianto? He was fine when he left here.”
“If you think that, then there’s no point in talking about it.” Tosh closed her laptop and swept out of the room.
Jack got to his feet. “Toshiko, I’m talking to you-”
Owen set a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll talk to her.” His voice was calm, but his face was just as angry as Tosh’s had been. Jack nodded curtly and Owen took a step after Tosh, then turned back to him. “Do you get CCTV in your quarters, Jack?”
The question caught him off guard. “Yes.”
“You might want to watch the footage from last night, then.”
He left the room, pausing only to speak quietly to Tosh before making his way down to the autopsy bay. Jack watched him go, torn halfway between anger and confusion.
CCTV it was, then.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
Alcohol didn’t make him drunk anymore, and he remembered every event he saw played out in front of him. He remembered tying Ianto down, the cool fear in Ianto’s voice when he’d demanded to be released. He remembered every searing kiss, every brush of Ianto’s fingers over his skin.
But-
He could have sworn he’d lubed his fingers. He never forgot to-he’d never-
“Jack, I’m not-don’t-”
Oh God.
Oh, God.
He made himself watch, fists clenched so tight he could feel blood welling under his nails. Every gasp of pain he’d mistaken for pleasure, every clench of Ianto’s fingers he’d been proud of earning…
When his onscreen self disappeared into the bathroom and Ianto cleaned himself off with a rapidly-reddening cloth, Jack turned off the tape, feeling sick.
How had he not noticed? How the hell had he not noticed?
Tosh and Owen were waiting for him when he emerged from his office. It took him three times to get his voice to work. “Where-” His voice caught in his throat and he swallowed hard. “Where is he?”
“Home,” Owen still looked fairly livid, but some of the anger had gone out of his eyes, and Jack wondered just how awful he looked. “We dropped him off on our way in.”
Jack nodded, taking a breath and picking up his greatcoat. “I’ll take Ianto’s car. The SUV is here if you need it. Call me if anything comes up.”
“Jack.”
Tosh’s voice was quiet, but brimming with enough emotion to stop Jack in his tracks. He turned back to her, half-fearing what he’d see on her face. Most of the blazing anger was gone, replaced by worry and fear, but firm resolve. “Don’t hurt him like this again, Jack,” she said. “Or you’ll get more than just the cold shoulder.’
He laughed shortly, humorlessly. “If I ever hurt him like this again, I’m giving you both permission to shoot me until I don’t come back anymore.”
A faint smile tugged Tosh’s lips up, and Jack did his best to return it before leaving the Hub.
Ianto opened the door before Jack could even knock, and Jack caught his breath at the sight of him. He was pale, dark circles under his eyes and lines of pain tight around his mouth. “Tosh called me,” he said quietly.
“I thought she might.” Jack did his best to smile, feeling hollow. “How-how are you?”
“I’ll live.” Ianto stepped back to let Jack in, hands coming up automatically to take Jack’s coat. Jack let him, moving on instinct, feeling a pang at the utter domesticity of the simple motion. “I’ve got coffee on. Do you want a cup?”
He was already moving away toward the kitchen. Jack caught his arm. “Ianto, we need to talk.”
“I know,” Ianto said quietly, his eyes falling to Jack’s grip on his arm. Immediately, Jack relaxed his grip, and Ianto’s expression softened. “But we don’t need to do that standing in the hallway.”
Something in his tone soothed Jack very slightly, and he followed Ianto into the kitchen. He sat down at the table, watching him make coffee, the slight stiffness marring his usual grace. It was his fault, he thought with a pang. God-how did he even begin to apologize for this?
Ianto sat down across from him-Jack caught the wince before Ianto’s blank expression slid back into place-and handed one mug to Jack, keeping the other. He took a long sip and then set his mug down. “So,” he said softly. “Where do you want to start?”
Jack swallowed. “Ianto, I’m-”
“I’m not interested in an apology, Jack,” Ianto said, effectively cutting him off. “There’s no point, and it’s not going to change anything. I just want to understand what happened.”
Jack stared at him. “What?”
“I’m not an idiot, Jack,” Ianto said, simple and quiet, and Jack felt a pang-he’d said the same thing last night. “Something was wrong last night. What you did-” he stopped, took a breath, and started again. “You never would have done what you did if you’d been okay.”
“I…” Jack closed his eyes, trying to comprehend. “I got lost,” he said finally. “Everything came together and I…I was married once.” Ianto said nothing, and Jack looked up sharply. “You know?” Ianto nodded, motioning for Jack to continue, and Jack swallowed, taking a sip of his coffee. “Seeing Gwen’s wedding…it just brought everything back. How she looked on our wedding day. Our honeymoon.” He laughed softly, feeling the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. “I looked her right in the eyes and said ‘til death do us part.’” Memories threatened to overwhelm him-a stifling hospital ward, her hand slackening in his, cold lips. “It did.”
Warm fingers curled around his and he looked up to meet Ianto’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” Ianto murmured, sincerity softening his accent.
Jack squeezed his hand, grateful for the contact, slight as it was. “It doesn’t excuse what I did. I shouldn’t have let my pain cloud-I shouldn’t have hurt you.”
“No,” Ianto agreed. He didn’t let go of Jack’s hand. “But I didn’t stop you, either.”
Jack shook his head. “It’s completely different. This isn’t your fault.” The words dried his mouth, but he made himself keep speaking. “Ianto, I forced-”
Ianto pulled his hand back. “Don’t, Jack.” Jack fell silent, chewing the inside of his cheek, and Ianto took a shaking breath. “Jack, if it had been anyone other than you, don’t you think I’d have had them unconscious if they’d even thought about doing what you did?” Jack opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Ianto offered him a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It was you. I let my feelings for you distract me. We both crossed a line, Jack.”
No, Jack wanted to say. I crossed a line, and pulled you over it. “Still, it doesn’t-”
“Jack.” Ianto cut him off. “It’s done.”
His tone left no room for argument, but Jack found room anyway. “So you’re just going to forgive me? Ianto, it can’t be that easy!”
“What do you want me to do, Jack?” Ianto spread his hands, looking almost helpless. “Cry? Break down? Flinch every time you touch me? We don’t have the liberty for that, and it won’t do either of us any good.”
Jack took a shaking breath. “Ianto, you can’t just let this go.”
“I didn’t say I would.” Ianto curled both hands around his coffee mug, and Jack had never envied a piece of ceramic so much in his life. “But that doesn’t mean I have to break in order to heal.”
“So…” Jack turned his own mug in his hand. “Where do we go from here?”
“Honestly?” Ianto shook his head. “I don’t know.”
They sat without speaking for several moments, the soft gurgling of Ianto’s dishwasher the only sound. Jack broke the silence. “I don’t want to lose this. Us.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow at him. “You say that like we’re a couple.”
“Aren’t we?”
Ianto was quiet. “I don’t know.” Unsure how to respond, Jack looked down at his coffee until Ianto took his hand again. “But I’d like us to try.”
Relief flooding his system like Boeshane wine, Jack lifted Ianto’s hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against his knuckles, trying to press all of his emotions into his lips. Ianto allowed the touch for a moment, then gently squeezed Jack’s fingers. Jack loosened his grip. “We’re going to need to set boundaries,” Ianto murmured, and Jack nearly laughed. Typical Ianto, setting up a game plan, all organization and lists. It was so beautifully normal that Jack wondered if maybe Ianto was okay after all. “Sex is out of the question, obviously.” Normally, Jack would make a joke; now, he simply nodded. He caught the spark of gratefulness in Ianto’s eyes before he kept speaking. “And I need-I need to know that you trust me, Jack. If something’s wrong, if you’re hurting-you need to tell me.”
“It has to go both ways,” Jack pointed out. Ianto looked confused, and Jack tightened his grip on Ianto’s hand as much as he dared. “If I do anything-anything-that hurts you, you tell me. I’ll stop.”
Ianto smiled faintly. “Will you?”
Jack winced. Okay, he’d earned that one. “If I don’t, then stop me.” He dared an attempt at humor. “And if I don’t stop, shoot me. I’ll come back.” Ianto’s smile turned a bit more genuine, and Jack grinned back at him.
They could get through this.
Jack stayed long enough to finish his coffee, keeping one hand curled loosely around Ianto’s the entire time, ready to let go at any sign of discomfort from Ianto. Despite Ianto’s insistence that he didn’t need a breakdown, Jack couldn’t help but worry that there was one coming. And in any case, Jack hadn’t earned his trust back yet, and wouldn’t be likely to, not for a long time.
Ianto walked with him to the door, moving slowly and carefully, and it took every ounce of Jack’s self-control not to slide an arm around his waist to support him. But Ianto shot him a warning glance when Jack made the slightest twitch to help him, and Jack didn’t press his luck.
When Ianto helped him into his coat, though, smoothing his hands over the shoulders to remove any traces of lint, Jack felt his self-control waver. “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, voice coming out far hoarser than he’d intended.
For half an instant, Jack thought he’d agree, and he felt a curl of worry-the last thing he wanted was Ianto pushing himself too quickly. But Ianto shook his head. “Not yet,” he murmured, and Jack breathed a soft sigh of relief even as he felt a twinge of regret. He reached up, laying one hand against Jack’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Jack turned his head into the touch, pressing a quick kiss to his palm. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
Ianto hesitated only slightly before nodding. “Of course.” He smiled. “I trust you one day without coffee, but two? I’d fear for Cardiff.”
Jack laughed, kissing Ianto’s hand again. “I should go,” he murmured against his skin.
“Yes.” Ianto drew his hand away. Jack smiled at him in farewell, slipping out the door.
He was halfway down the hall when Ianto’s voice stopped him. “Jack?”
Jack turned back to him. Framed in the open door, Ianto looked every inch his twenty-five years, and Jack was struck-not for the first time-by how young he was. “Yeah?”
“We’re…” Ianto swallowed visibly, his grip on the door frame tightening. “Are we going to be okay?”
It wasn’t intended as a loaded question, Jack was sure of that much. But every bit of Ianto’s fear and pain and uncertainty was poured into the words, and there was no right answer. Jack met his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I swear, Ianto-I’m going to try.”
Not a perfect answer, not by a long shot. But Ianto smiled, soft and genuine, and Jack returned it.
Not perfect.
But a start.
...
And that's the end! I know a lot of you were hoping for a crazy confrontation, but it just didn't seem right for the characters. The story isn't as resolved as I'd like it to be, though, so question for all of you--would you be interested in a sequel? It would deal with more of the fallout, set before (and possibly during) From Out of the Rain.
Thank you all for your support and wonderful feedback during this fic! It was hard to write, but I had a good time writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. :)