Fic: Imperfect Promises

Jun 18, 2010 10:53

Title: Imperfect Promises
Author: remuslives23
Rating: PG15
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto; Gwen
Word Count: 6298
Summary: Jack is taken to task, and learns how to compromise.
Notes/Warnings: Some sexual content. Language. For lover100 prompt 073: dream. Thank you to dogsunderfoot for picking up everything my fuzzy, ill brain - intent on writing flangst - missed.
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies, BBC, and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.



Gwen glared daggers at Jack as he sank into the driver's seat, and he felt his balls pull up towards his body in anticipation of the least fun kind of ball-breaking.

'What?'

'What the hell was all that?'

'All what?' Jack frowned, glancing back at the young couple he'd just questioned about odd lights in the sky. The woman had a fantastic rack - tits you just wanted to bury your face in - and you could bounce coins off the guy's arse. He gave them another appreciative once over before turning back to Gwen. 'What have I done this time?'

'Would you have acted like that,' she waved her hand towards the couple in a generic gesture that could have meant anything, 'if Ianto were here?'

Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise. 'Yes?' he said, drawing the word out slowly and hoping that he'd given her the answer that would stop the imminent bollocking in its tracks.

Fury flashed sharp and bright in her eyes and Jack sighed. Wrong answer. 'Gwen, I don't...'

'You'd act like that in front of your boyfriend?' she screeched, her voice hitting a pitch that would have dogs howling in pain. Jack winced and held up a hand.

'First, call Ianto my boyfriend in front of him and see how long you're on decaf for,' he said, twisting the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled into life, and Jack quickly pulled out of the car park. 'Second, Ianto doesn't own me anymore than I own him. We're free to do whatever or whomever we please.'

He swerved around a corner, the tyres squealing just a little, and Gwen slapped a hand down on the dashboard to stop herself slamming into Jack. 'But...' she said, clearly not going to take Jack's answer as the end of the conversation, 'why? Isn't Ianto enough?'

Jack turned his head sharply to throw an annoyed look at her before shifting his attention back to the road. 'What the hell kind of question is that?' he asked angrily, pressing his foot down a little harder on the accelerator. God, he hated this. It was bad enough that this century's inhabitants insisted on talking relationships to death instead of going with the flow, but to have to have this discussion with someone he wasn't even in a relationship with...

'I just mean, if you have to go out looking for someone else...'

Jack sighed heavily, his head already beginning to ache at the thought of explaining this to Gwen, bastion of hearts and flowers and happy endings. 'Gwen, I'm not looking for someone else. That was flirting. Harmless flirting.'

'So you never shag them?' she said, sticking her chin out in challenge. 'You never follow through?'

'Why do you need to know?' he retorted, annoyance making his voice rise. 'Why do you care about what arrangement Ianto and I might have made?'

She flushed, but the stubborn set of her jaw told him that she wasn't giving up. 'Because I see his face, Jack,' she snapped, scowling at him.

Jack's head twisted so fast he felt a pinch in his neck. He stared at her until she slapped his arm and yelled at him to watch where he was going. With an abrupt jerk of the steering wheel, he pulled into the underground car park near the Hub, slamming his foot down on the brake when they reached their usual spot. He switched the car off then shifted in his seat so he was facing her.

'What do you mean, "you see his face". What does that mean?' he demanded, and for the first time, Gwen's courage wavered.

'I... I've seen Ianto,' she said, eyeing him warily. 'When you flirt, when you talk about someone you saw on the street or in the pub and let us believe that it went further than just a drink or a quick wink. He always smiles and rolls his eyes, but it's never real.' She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him, bravery returning in her eagerness to defend the perceived slight to her friend. 'It hurts him, Jack. You hurt him.'

Jack conscience prickled, and he frowned at an unforgiving Gwen. When he and Ianto started their... thing, they'd agreed to keep it casual, no strings, no expectations. But things had changed since then. Jack had asked Ianto out, they were dating. Well, dating Torchwood style which was more like takeaway eaten by the Bay, the opening credits of a DVD when they had time, then fucking wherever they landed when their trousers came off. But Ianto spent nights curled around Jack in his bed at the Hub, and Jack kept a toothbrush at Ianto's for the nights they ended up crashing there, and they had found a comfortable niche in each others lives and fitted themselves into it perfectly. But they'd never talked about changing the rules because Jack was happy with the arrangement, and Ianto wasn't the kind to ask for a change if he wasn't.

Shit.

'Ianto... Ianto doesn't care about all that talk,' he said, opening the door so he wouldn't have to look her in the eye. 'He knows his place in my life.'

He swung himself out of the SUV and shut the door, heading around to the boot. A slam of Gwen's door that rocked the whole vehicle warned him that he'd somehow made things worse before a steaming Gwen shoved him up against the side of the car.

'He knows his place?' she hissed, her face contorted in anger as her fist clenched in his coat. 'So what's his place? Chief bed warmer until something new and shiny comes along?'

'We don't label what we have,' Jack snapped back, pushing her grasping hands off him. 'He understands that I'm not going to conform to this primitive idea you lot have about limiting yourselves...'

'Primitive?' Gwen whispered, taking a step back in shock. 'You think pledging to spend your life with someone you love is primitive?'

'It's unreasonable,' Jack insisted, hardening his heart against the rush of feeling, of memories the conversation was provoking. 'Do you really think you're capable of staying faithful to one person for the rest of your life? Just because you said some pretty words and kissed in front of your family and friends? It means nothing, Gwen. Empty promises.'

Gwen was looking at him like he'd suddenly sprouted an extra head. 'Yes,' she said as if it should have been obvious. 'I've made mistakes in the past, Jack, but yes, I do think I can spend what's left of my life with Rhys. And we're not talking about decades, are we? Because if there's one thing I've learned about Torchwood, it's that we don't have forever. That's why I said yes to Rhys when he asked me to marry him.'

Pink coloured her cheeks prettily as she dipped her head and averted her eyes. She twisted the rings on her finger - a habit Jack had recently noticed. 'That's why I...' She huffed out a self-conscious breath, and shrugged. 'I didn't want to waste what might be a very short life chasing someone who was just a fantasy.'

Jack closed his eyes for a long moment, mourning a lost opportunity, but not regretting the way things had turned out, knowing they'd both made the correct decision. He watched her pull herself together again - his strong, fierce Gwen. Her eyes met his unwaveringly, and her face hardened once again.

'You may think we're archaic, but you choose to live here, Jack,' she said. 'You could have kept running with your Doctor, but you came back: to us, to this century and its primitive traditions and beliefs. And you need to respect that, respect us for what we put our faith in because we didn't choose to be right here, right now, Jack. You did.'

'So I throw aside everything I believe to suit some old-fashioned ideal that even the people raised amongst it don't always believe in?' he questioned indignantly. 'Those vows you say, the promises you make... They aren't real, Gwen. They're broken all the time. You people have no idea what true commitment is.'

'They're real to us,' she said quietly. 'And no, I don't expect you to throw aside your own beliefs, and neither does Ianto, but a little compromise isn't an unreasonable expectation. Particularly as you have plenty of time for 'not limiting yourself' once Ianto is...' she bit her lip, the wounds from Owen's recent 'death' still too raw to talk about mortality so casually, '... once he's gone. You're living in our century for the moment, Jack. Would it really be so hard for you to try out some of our traditions and ideals for a while instead of expecting anyone you're with to adjust to your beliefs? After all, it won't be forever.'

Jack sank back against the SUV as she spun on her heel, striding towards the door that would take her through to the Hub. Was he really expecting too much from Ianto? Was he asking for something Ianto wasn't happy about giving? He pushed off the car and jogged across the vacant car park, catching the door as it swung open and holding it for Gwen to pass through.

'Do you really think I'm hurting him?' he asked softly as she brushed past him, and she stopped, putting her hand on his chest and giving him a little smile.

'You know what Ianto's like,' she murmured. 'He takes what you're willing to give, Jack, and thanks you for it. He'd never admit to wanting something for himself, but... yes. I think the thought of sharing when he's only got you for such a short time hurts.'

She gave him a pat then continued on down the stairs. Jack frowned then whirled around with a flourish of his coattails, heading for the other door and the stairs that led to the roof.

He needed to think.

*

When Jack got back to the Hub, Ianto was slouched in his chair behind his desk, his head nodding as he dozed. Jack smiled fondly at the other man's unusual dishevelment: his jacket and tie hanging haphazardly over Gwen's desk, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, five o'clock shadow darkening his jaw. It would have been a good look on him if it weren't for the dark shadows under his eyes, the lines around his mouth and eyes that even sleep didn't smooth these days. Jack put a bag of takeaway carefully on the unusually overcrowded desk then leaned against the edge, arms crossed as he resisted the urge to run his fingers through that ruffled hair, and watched Ianto snooze.

It had been a rough few weeks as they all worked to fill the gap in the field left by their suddenly fragile doctor, but Ianto's workload had increased the most. No one trusted Owen in the archives, or with the accounting, and he frightened the tourists, so Ianto had been continuing with most of his old tasks, as well as coping admirably with his promotion to field agent. Jack had been ensuring Tosh found her way home at a decent hour, and that Gwen got to see her fiance as much as possible. Owen didn't need sleep now, but Jack shooed him out of the Hub for a few hours a night as well. He had tried to convince Ianto to leave, to get some rest in his own bed, but was pathetically, selfishly, grateful when the other man completely ignored him.

I wouldn't still be here if Ianto didn't stay. I'd have run after what I did to Owen.

Gwen's earlier admonishments echoed inside his mind once more and Jack frowned. He hadn't been looking for this, for Ianto. Even after they'd stopped resisting the pull of their attraction and started shagging, he'd never thought they'd end up here, that he'd need Ianto so much.

Losing the battle not to touch, Jack stroked the backs of his fingers over Ianto's rough jaw, the rasp of stubble against his fingers making Jack's blood run hotter, faster. Ianto's hair was curling as it lay against his collar - longer than he usually kept it, but no one had time for hair cuts - and Jack threaded a finger through a spiral, twisting the digit so the strands tightened around it. Ianto stirred, raising his head from where it had been lolling against his chest and stared sleepily at Jack.

'Hey,' he croaked out, voice hoarse. He rubbed a hand across his red-rimmed eyes. 'Whasatime?'

'Late,' Jack admitted, having lost track of time while he was contemplating (not brooding) on the roof of the Millennium Centre. His hand fell from Ianto's nape. 'Gwen gone?'

'Mm,' Ianto hummed, and the slight inflection that no one else would hear made Jack curse bloody nosy ex-coppers and their big mouths. 'Rhys picked her up about an hour after you both got back, and Tosh forced Owen out just after. Something about a 'Monty Python' marathon.'

He stretched, the graceful arch of his back sending another fresh burst of blood searing through Jack's veins, and glanced at Jack. 'Did you eat yet, or have you been on the roof all this time?'

'I haven't eaten,' Jack said, twisting to snatch up the bag of food then holding it up triumphantly. 'I went to that noodle bar you've been talking about trying for the last couple of weeks. Vegetarian for you - I'm watching to make sure you eat the celery - and chicken for me. I also called into the bakery just as they were closing and begged them for some of those triple-chocolate biscuits that you like...'

'Gwen had no right to speak for me.'

Jack's rambling came to an abrupt halt with Ianto's softly spoken words. They stared at each other, Jack's mouth open as he searched for something to say, then Ianto snatched the bag out of his hands and pushed himself to his feet with a groan. 'So there was no need for all this fuss, although I do thank you for the effort,' he said with a gentle smile, pressing a kiss to the corner of Jack's mouth before he brushed past, heading for Jack's office.

Jack followed him, watching the fabric of Ianto's trousers tighten over his arse with each step then made a detour to the kitchen to fetch a couple of beers. He twisted off the lids and, as he tossed them into the bin, he thought about how automatic his actions had become. He knew Ianto liked a beer rather than coffee with dinner, and he'd begun to drink it as well. Ianto organised the food, while Jack collected their drinks. The way they moved around each other now was domestic and familiar, and a frown creased his brow. He took a few gulps of his beer for fortification as he made his way to his office.

Ianto looked up as he entered, taking his beer with a nod of thanks then he rolled his eyes. 'Stop thinking,' he ordered, digging a plastic fork into the tangle of noodles and vegetables in his cardboard box and twirling it. 'You'll get wrinkles, and Botox won't take with you.'

Jack blew a raspberry as he flopped into his seat then he picked up his fork and speared a chunk of chicken. 'What's the rift predictor say?' he asked, popping the chicken into his mouth and chewing with his mouth open, getting a filthy look from Ianto.

'Quiet tonight,' Ianto replied, pursing his lips when Jack defiantly shoved a lump of noodles into his mouth and chewed loudly. 'Small surge predicted tomorrow afternoon.'

Jack swallowed then sighed in relief. 'Maybe it's finally settling down?' he mused, leaning back in his chair.

The rift had been relentless over the last week, spitting out some of the worst the universe had to offer and, suddenly, the reminder of all the horrors out there took Jack back to the Valiant. For a moment, he was lost inside jumbled memories of blood and pain and cruel laughter, struggling to find his way out of the vivid memory. He shuddered, his muscles convulsing in tiny spasms, then Ianto was calling his name sharply, and he was brought back to now.

He smiled weakly at Ianto then quickly took a long drink of his beer. Ianto looked away, making an attempt at nonchalance that Jack loved him for. Gwen would have been all over him with hugs and questions and advice; Ianto didn't make a production out of his concern, simply drawing Jack back to the present and accepting that he still had the occasional, unexplained lapse.

Just like he's always accepted me. Unconditionally.

Jack tapped the fork against his lips, staring at the remaining food in his carton. Gwen was right about one thing: Ianto would never tell him he needed something Jack hadn't offered. And, while Jack didn't like the thought that he wasn't meeting all of Ianto's needs, he wasn't sure he was able to give him what he needed this time. Compromise... would cost Jack too much.

'You are an idiot.'

Jack blinked, frowning up at an annoyed-looking Ianto. 'Pardon?' he said, confused.

'You're still thinking about what Gwen said,' he said shortly. 'Look, I've never asked you for any of that, have I? I've never asked you to stop fucking around, for any kind of commitment?'

'No.' Jack looked at him warily, wondering how much of their discussion Gwen had passed along and taking a moment to appreciate how hot Ianto was when he was pissed off. 'What exactly did Gwen...?'

'You know why I've never asked you for it?' Ianto interrupted, clearly not in the mood to talk about Gwen.

'Um...'

'Because I don't want you like that, that's why. It needs to be offered freely.' Ianto pouted as he savagely poked his fork into his noodle box. 'Yes, I was brought up believing that you meet someone, you fall in love and you commit to a life together, but nothing - nothing - about my life is the way I thought it would turn out. And I've accepted that.'

'Are you sure?' Jack asked, catching the tiniest flicker of - something - in Ianto's face. 'We haven't talked about this recently, not since I came back and things... changed.'

I'm a twenty-first century man, Jack,' Ianto said, acerbically. 'Of course I want you to be mine and mine alone. Caveman, remember?'

Jack, chastened by the reminder of one of his frequent invectives, managed to get half a protest out, but Ianto just shook his head and spoke over him. 'But I don't want it because Gwen told you that's what you should be doing.' He shook his head and scowled, his nose wrinkling. 'Fuck. I know her heart's in the right place, but I could strangle her with her own damn tongue sometimes.'

Jack hid his smirk, not wanting to risk Ianto's wrath being directed at him when his cock was becoming increasingly interested in what he might be able to convince Ianto to do with his own tongue. There was a long minute of silence in which Ianto stabbed pieces of celery and pointedly took vicious bites out of them, and Jack pretended he wasn't watching.

It wasn't until Ianto had finished his dinner and wiped his mouth that he looked Jack right in the eye. 'Look, for future reference, if you are going to offer monogamy, or any kind of... less casual relationship, make sure it's what you really want. I mean it,' he said, raising his voice a little when Jack made an 'of course' face. 'You've made me no promises so far so I expect nothing from you, ask for nothing from you - not monogamy, not commitment, nothing except that you have enough common sense to not bring some kind of disease back with you. I like my bits how they are, thank you.'

Jack snorted into his beer bottle and Ianto rolled his eyes and called him a child before continuing. 'But if you make me a promise, Jack, there are no second chances for "oops, my dick just fell into her mouth or his arse",' he said, his steady, sober tone capturing Jack's attention. 'You fuck up, we're through. Because you making that kind of promise means something to me so just make sure it means the same thing to you.'

They held each others gaze, neither hiding behind the walls that were looking more and more fragile every day. Jack studied Ianto's face, looking for the tics and tells (of which there were ridiculously few, but if you knew where to look...), searched behind the crumbling shields for any sign that Ianto was foregoing his own needs for Jack's comfort (takes a conman to trap a conman, but Ianto's a much better conman than I ever was), but saw nothing but honesty reflected in the beautiful blue depths. So he inclined his head once, and Ianto blinked, breaking their connection as he looked away. He drained his bottle then put it, and his carton of food, on Jack's desk.

'Now, if you think I hung around waiting for mediocre noodles and, admittedly, fantastic cookies, you'd be mistaken,' he said, standing and circling around Jack's desk. He sat on the edge and pushed Jack's chair back with one foot, his hands unbuckling his own belt.

'We have what could possibly be an uninterrupted night and I'm going to start making the most of it - just in case some kind of invading force manages to slip under the radar,' he murmured, unzipping his fly then gazing meaningfully at Jack's ever-tightening pants that were still most inconveniently fastened.

'Of course, if you're not in the mood, you could just watch me,' he said slyly, bracing himself on one hand as he leaned back, the other dipping between skin and cotton. Jack licked his lips as he watched the knuckles of Ianto's fist push against the fabric of his white briefs, sliding back and forth as Ianto lazily stroked himself. He kneaded the bulge in his own trousers, expertly unfastening the fly with one hand as he shrugged out of his braces.

Ianto made an approving noise then sank carefully to his knees in the space between Jack's legs, shoving them further apart. Jack slid lower in his chair to give Ianto better access to his rapidly hardening cock then raised his hips to help Ianto shuffle his trousers down to his thighs. Ianto grinned, shoving Jack's double layer of shirts up his chest then dipping his head to bite a ring of bruises around Jack's navel. Jack slapped at his head playfully, giving a little hint in the way of a push towards his cock, now standing at full attention.

'Get to work, Jones,' he growled, and Ianto gave his cock a lick from root to tip, making Jack shudder.

'Sir, yes, sir,' he barked out before swallowing Jack's cock in its entirety.

*

Two months later, Jack revived alone in a filthy alleyway, a desperate, rasping gasp filling his lungs with oxygen as the ripping, tearing sensation of being dragged over jagged rocks faded away. He panted out his first few breaths, letting his head fall to the side as messages sparked from his brain to his muscles, making them twitch. A disgruntled cat glared angrily at him from under an overflowing dumpster, backing away with a bit of unidentifiable rubbish in its mouth. Jack sat up, wiping slimy saliva (feline? alien?) off his face with a disgusted grimace then looking around, he realised his team - now consisting of an exhausted Ianto and Gwen - were nowhere in sight.

'Where the hell are they?' he muttered, scrambling unsteadily to his feet, taking a moment to register the fact that this was the first time in a while that he'd come back from death without Ianto nearby. He'd forgotten how lonely it felt. He swayed on the spot until he regained his equilibrium then took off towards the mouth of the alley.

It was easier to hear the sizzle of laser guns from here, the pop of the Glocks Gwen and Ianto preferred, the shouts of pain and frustration as Gwen and Ianto battled the combative Hundri soldiers the rift had spat out in Splott just before sundown.

It's always fucking Splott.

He ran as fast as his still awakening legs could carry him and swore effusively when he saw a leather-clad figure huddled on the ground. No, please, no. I can't lose them too.

'Gwen!' he hissed desperately as he approached. Her head snapped around and Jack felt weak as relief flooded through him.

'Jack,' she whispered, her strained face making her look older than her years. 'Thank God.'

'Are you hurt?' he asked, scanning her body quickly for any obvious injury then whirling around when a familiar shout sent a chill down his spine. 'Ianto...?'

'I'm fine,' she said with a grimace, gesturing to her foot. 'I can't put any weight on it, though. Go and help Ianto. He's alone, and there's three of them.'

Jack cursed in his first language, shrugging off his coat and tossing it over Gwen. 'Keep your gun out,' he ordered, rising to his feet.

'Just bring Ianto back in one piece,' she said shakily, and he waved a hand in acknowledgment as he ran to the intersection and threw himself behind an abandoned station wagon.

He peeked over the hood, Webley cocked and ready. One soldier was down, purple blood flooding from a gaping chest wound, and Ianto was dodging behind parked cars as he tried to get closer to the remaining two.

'Ianto!' he called, standing and getting off three shots before one of the Hundri soldiers swung his weapon towards him, the burning red beam it emitted only just missing Jack's head.

As he ducked, he caught sight of Ianto taking advantage of the distraction to move out from behind his car, gun up and firing as he ran out into the open. Jack let out a stream of filth that would have made Owen blush (God, did it still hurt that he was gone) before he leaped to his feet again, bringing up his gun. He hesitated when he realised Ianto was in his line of fire, and let out a primal growl of frustration. He swiftly moved to the trunk end of a closer car just in time to see Ianto throw himself on the ground, rolling then shooting one of the Hundri right between the eyes.

Jack stepped out, getting off one shot before he had to take cover again, the car window near his head exploding in a cascade of glass splinters over his shoulders. He heard the whine of a fortieth century weapon just before it fired and the poppoppop of a twenty-first century handgun before two screams rent the air then there was a deafening silence.

*

Jack kicked the tangled sheets off his legs and stared up at the ceiling, his heart banging impossibly fast against his ribs. He took a deep breath then let it out slowly, the sweat from his thrashing about starting to dry on his skin. He frowned, dragging his hand over his crotch then letting out a disbelieving exhale. He was hard. His nightmare had been bad enough to wake him, and he was hard.

I am a sick, sick man.

He turned his head on his pillow, staring at Ianto's shoulders and the stark white bandage that covered the burn on his upper arm. Reaching out, Jack ghosted a hand over the injured area, fresh worry about the quality of his first aid niggling at him. We need a new doctor, a new technician.

Jack laid a hand lightly between Ianto's shoulder blades; the skin warm, but not feverish. He left it there, concentrating on the even rise and fall, until Ianto stirred, mumbling something into his pillow before he settled again.

Jack palmed his cock again; it was softening now. He closed his eyes as his dream - his nightmare - played through his mind once again: the sound of harsh breathing and strangled screams, the scent of cordite, and the bright red of Ianto's blood assaulting his senses once more. But then he'd seen Ianto - standing proud in his torn and filthy suit, gun held high and eyes fierce and focused as he defended his friends, his town, his planet - and Jack's body couldn't help but respond to the image now as strongly as it had at the time. Arousal and adrenalin were a potent mix and, when combined with the fear that had coursed through their veins at the near-miss, it was nothing short of a miracle that he and Ianto had made it to his bunk before falling on each other.

His fingers moved of their own accord across Ianto's back, finding the scars Jack had spent so many hours mapping with hands and lips, and caressing them, as if he could soothe any lingering hurt. The burn from today would heal and the forever marked skin would be yet another stop for Jack on future explorations. As would the next, and the next until one day, one of the wounds wouldn't heal, and he'd never get to do this again.

Jack heaved a sigh, the ever present, bone deep ache in his chest blooming at the thought of how close they'd come today and he was torn between wanting to push Ianto as far away from his heart as possible, and holding him so close that nothing would ever tear them apart. His next exhale juddered from his lips and he squeezed his burning eyes shut. Fuck, he'd hoped this wouldn't happen. He'd given up on his dreams a long time ago, had given up everything he'd ever wanted for himself when he was growing up after his last trip with the Doctor, after he finally accepted that this - he - was forever. So why was fate or the Gods or whoever the hell ran things around here still fucking with him? It wasn't fair that he be taunted with the one thing he wanted more than anything, but could no longer have.

"... a little compromise isn't an unreasonable expectation. After all, it won't be forever."

Jack glanced back at Ianto then rolled over onto his side, curling his arm carefully around Ianto's waist as he plastered himself to his back. Ianto shifted a little then murmured, 'Jack?' questioningly.

Jack splayed his fingers wide over Ianto's soft stomach, scratching his nails through the sprinkling of hair below his navel. 'Hey,' he whispered. 'You awake?'

'Hmm, yeah.' Ianto cleared his throat and wriggled back so he was pressed firmly against Jack from shoulder to toe. 'Can't sleep?'

'I had a little,' Jack said evasively then he bit the bullet. 'Do you remember when I got home after traveling with the Doctor how I told you about growing up on the Boeshane Peninsula? How it was different to here - relationship-wise?

He felt Ianto tense, the sleepy languor gone. Ianto nodded but didn't say anything, just waiting for Jack to tell him whatever he was going to tell him in his own time. Jack felt a surge of affection, and kissed Ianto's shoulder lightly.

'I didn't tell you everything.' He shifted, burying his nose in the hair at Ianto's nape, still slightly damp from their shower and curling. Had he ever gotten that hair cut? 'We did have a much more open view to relationships - lots of triads, multiple partners. We were encouraged to experiment, to experience everything the universe had to offer...'

He breathed deep then took the plunge. 'There was a tradition, an old one, but one my parents chose. A ymuno. A joining.'

Ianto turned in Jack's embrace, rolling onto his back and shoving an arm under his head as he stared up at Jack's face, cast in shadows. 'Like a civil partnership?'

Jack shook his head. 'No, it's... more. Religion had - will - evolve into something completely different by my time. It's all about worshiping the body, the heart, and soul, the natural and spiritual elements of life rather than some kind of incorporeal being. Ymuno - joining - is only similar to marriage or CP in the most basic ways. It's the only ceremony performed in my time where monogamy is promised, where it is expected. It's a joining - a literal joining - of souls as well as lives. A physical and empathic connection is formed between hearts and minds, and both parties vow that they will spend eternity as one, both in this mortal coil and in the after.'

Ianto made a little noise in his throat and Jack saw that he'd closed his eyes, a tiny smile of understanding curling the corners of his lips. 'Ah,' he said softly, and when he opened his eyes, Jack smiled ruefully.

'A promise means something to me as well, Ianto,' he said quietly, crossing his arms over Ianto's chest and resting his chin on them. He stared up at Ianto's face, eyes roaming over the angles and curves, memorising the way the glow from the street light outside played across the skin. 'To me, that kind of promise means forever.' He shook his head. 'I can't give anyone that. No matter how much I want to.'

Ianto nodded and lifted his hand, scratching his nails over Jack's scalp as he combed his fingers through his hair. 'Every time I think I understand what immortality has cost you...' he whispered sadly, cupping the back of Jack's head.

Jack sighed, soothed by the circles Ianto was absently rubbing into his neck. 'I have tried marriage,' he admitted. 'And it was nice, and made her happy, but it just reminded me of what I'd lost, what I'd never have. And as much as I made the most of the freedom and lack of inhibitions of my time, I did want it. I would look at my parents and be so envious of what they'd found together, and look forward to the day that I'd take those vows with someone.'

'Oh, Jack,' Ianto sighed, stroking his hand down Jack's spine. 'I'm so sorry.'

He lifted his head and brushed his lips over Jack's forehead. Jack unfolded his arms, sliding them under Ianto's shoulders as he laid his head on his chest. The steady thump of Ianto's heart fluttered against his cheek and Jack closed his eyes, letting the regular beat ground him, surround him, protect him from the gaping chasm of pain and hurt sharing those memories of Boeshane had unlocked.

He'd just begun to drift off when a question rumbled through Ianto's chest. He raised his head and blinked at Ianto. 'What?'

'I said, what made you mention it now? It's been weeks since Gwen last took it upon herself to try and sort our love lives.'

Jack chuckled, nuzzling his nose into Ianto's chest, the fine hair tickling his skin deliciously. 'She might have learned her lesson after you refused to give her anything but tar in her coffee cup for days. Perhaps she'll mind her business from now on?'

'Nah,' Ianto said, his lips upturned in a smug little smile. 'But it did dampen her enthusiasm for poking her nose into other people's lives for a little while.'

Jack grinned, lashing his tongue over Ianto's nipple then watching in interest as it peaked into a hard little nub. He blew gently, laughing quietly when goose bumps prickled Ianto's skin, then Ianto flicked his nose in mock annoyance.

'Enough of that unless you're offering your arse this time,' he admonished as Jack rubbed his nose petulantly. 'Mine's had enough for tonight.'

Jack quirked an eyebrow and smirked suggestively. 'Maybe,' he drawled, dropping a trail of soft kisses from Ianto's sternum to the hollow at the base of his throat. He slowly dragged his tongue over the indentation, swallowing the reverberations from Ianto's moan. Despite his teasing and his cock's growing enthusiasm, Jack had no intention of taking their sleepy foreplay any further. He was sated from earlier, and Ianto needed some sleep, but first...

'Today,' Jack mumbled into Ianto's throat. 'You were facing down those Hundri all by yourself and God, Ianto, you were fucking magnificent and all I could think when I looked at you was... mine.'

He felt Ianto's throat undulate as he swallowed then a huffed exhale swayed his hair. 'You just worked that out now?' he joked, a little tremulously.

Jack sighed, and pressed his nose into the skin over Ianto's pulse point, breathing in deep. 'Yes,' he whispered, and Ianto's heart skipped in its rhythm. Jack's hand searched for Ianto's, finding it and threading their fingers tightly. 'And I'm yours.'

A hitching breath then, 'Jack...'

Jack's lips skimmed Ianto's skin as they searched for his mouth, silently reciting the vows he'd memorised in his childhood as he pressed a kiss against the soft flesh. I invite you to into my soul. He rose to brush his mouth over Ianto's forehead. I invite you into my mind. Then he trailed tiny kisses over the slope of Ianto's nose before burying his face in Ianto's chest. I invite you into my heart.

Jack raised his head, hand over Ianto's heart as he held his gaze. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't what he'd dreamed of, but it was everything - everything - he had to offer.

'I promise.'

fin.

jack/ianto, gwen cooper, fandom: torchwood

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