Title : Refusal
Summary: Ianto knows Jack better than Jack knows himself.
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones
Pairings: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Word count: 1668
Rate: G, or PG (If you're old enough to watch torchwood this will look tame... it IS tame).
Disclaimer: Neither the song, nor Torchwood and certainly not the characters used belong to me. Torchwood belongs to BBC Wales & Russell T. Davies. Song lyrics belong to Marc Almond (I think…)
When we love
We love with a passion
That's dark with a sin
As deep as the sea
It's pure evil
When you're kissing me
The first time Jack was pushed against the wall with a determined Ianto warming his body, he just knew he had it all wrong. He pushed the thoughts away and kept kissing him.
Twenty first century is when everything changes. It was his favourite motto, even if he knew it was barely true. I didn’t matter after all. As long as his people believed him, they wouldn’t live until the end of the century to call him a liar. In the end, it didn’t matter.
Even he, born in a time when everything had indeed changed, even he, wasn’t all that different than 21st century males. He night not like labels, or so he said, but deep down he knew labels keep society organized, in a rude, unquestioning way. All in all, it wasn’t perfect, but he knew the opposite and the opposite was anarchy.
Ianto lies on the cold floor, blood spilling from his body. Jack’s mind in turmoil; he can’t think, just acts.
Save Ianto. Save Ianto.
Cold lips stay unyielding beneath his own.
It’s too early, damn it, too early! Jack can save him. Jack will save him. He pries Ianto’s lips open pushing beyond the teeth trying to breathe life into the body of a man he holds at gun point minutes later.
It seems ages before Ianto splatters and opens his eyes. Confusion, disorientation and mostly fear are shown in the blood rimmed eyes.
Jack, for one moment, wants to forget everything, wrap his arms around Ianto’s body and never let go of his fragile life. Ianto’s hostile and Jack has no time to think over emotions. Overrated things as they are.
His eyes search in the hub and stay in the rest of his team; Owen, Tosh, and especially Gwen.
Gwen, who would never bring a cyberman in the hub, who can make his heart sing with hope over humanity. Who is safe.
“What do you want?” Ianto opens the door of his apartment, a whole week after his official suspension to find Jack standing there, big in his coat, perfectly groomed.
He wants to close the door to his face and go back to his… whatever it is he is doing for the last seven days. Dealing with Jack is never easy.
“I came to see how you are.”
“Seizing the day, Captain. I’m seizing the day.”
Ianto tries to see the whole situation from Jack’s point of view. If he was Jack, he would have shot Ianto right after destroying Li… the cyberman.
He lost his love, he lost his purpose, he lost his future and right now he can’t even hold onto his hate either. Jack is innocent. He is the guilty part. For not seeing. For not wanting to see.
Jack can see Ianto has been doing anything but seizing the day. It is impressive how much weight a person can lose in one week. The bruises on the young face have turned into an ugly purplish yellow. He wishes he could check the rest of his body for bruises and hurts. Ianto hadn’t even let Owen examine him after the cyberman fiasco. Jack guesses if there was any serious damage it would be too late to check it. Instead he watches Ianto, dressed in a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt and an unbuttoned shirt standing by the door looking down at him defiant and frightened at the same time.
“Ianto…” Jack doesn’t know what he wants to say to his co worker; offer him absolution? Only Ianto can that for himself. Offer comfort? He sertainly does, but at the moment he isn’t sure how Ianto will respond to that.
Ianto is cleaning the kitchen bench with a white rag. He lets it on the sink and spins to see him. “Coffee?”
Jack nods and waits. Ianto is a strange combination of fragility and strength like the lightest of winds could tear him apart while he is absolutely capable of standing straight and proud against an army of fighters and take them all down without the tiniest of help from someone else.
Ianto is admired this moment. More than he would ever know.
They sit opposite each other on Ianto’s kitchen table, quiet, staring at their cups, sipping their coffee and just being. It is comfortable. It is something.
After they drink their coffee, Jack permits his hand to travel on top of Ianto’s. He lets it there, absorbing its coldness. He squeezes it and geta up leaving Ianto alone in his apartment.
The same impromptu meeting repeats itself every night for the next three weeks. Every time Jack leaves the Hub, he doesn’t know where he is going but every time he ends up in Ianto’s place. The younger man lets him in, makes him coffee and they sit quietly, together.
The night before the end of Ianto’s suspension, when Ianto understands Jack is ready to leave, he gets up, and helps him put on his coat. Jack leans over and kisses the young man’s temple.
“Thank you.” It is the first thing Ianto speaks to him since the first time Jack has found himself there. All the bruises are gone, the blank stare doesn’t stay in Ianto’s eyes for more than a couple of seconds anymore.
Healing has begun.
Gwen was his touch with reality; Gwen was there to keep them human. He could always have a rival in her and make him see the right.
Jack’s sense of right and wrong after centuries of living is shaky, at the very best. He knows that in Gwen he sees his Rose, young, fresh faced, beautiful, passionate, and ready to explore the secrets of the universe. This is what he needs. It is what he misses and wants. And he has convinced himself of the veracity of his delusions.
Gwen is there to shout his mistakes when he chooses to not see them.
And then the cannibals makes everything worse. Bruises are back, the faith in humanity lost once again. Jack knows without Ianto, he might have lost Toshiko. He knows Gwen has Owen and her boyfriend to pamper her at night and day, soothe her worries and bruises. Toshiko is among the lucky, or sad, ones who need no one other than their computer and a warm beverage, a keyboard and time at their disposal to create.
Ianto has stood far away, his presence supportive in a cold- matter of fact way when everyone puts the blame on Jack about letting Jasmine go with the fairies. Ianto knows though; Ianto iss like him.
Jack has made Ianto like him, distant from the human pain, ready to do his best or the most to survive. And Jack doesn’t know which one he despised the most for it; Ianto or himself. There are times he misses the fire he saw lit in Ianto’s eyes when he fought for the remains of the woman he loved; that moments he was wild, unbeatable, strong and so utterly human he took Jack’s breath away. These days, Ianto is good for following orders. Jack has made sure of that.
Ianto will never be like Gwen. So Jack can never have the same emotions for Ianto as he has for Gwen. And, inside the labyrinth of his mind, he has convinced himself that anything pure and innocent is given to and taken from Gwen. The only things left for the younger man are carnal, physical.
Jack is certain he receives the same in return.
Jack could never have been more wrong.
Because if Gwen was his Rose, it took him more than necessary time to realize Ianto was his Doctor; cynical, brilliant, knowledgeable and ready to shatter everything into pieces in order to build it again.
While Ianto was docile and ready to give into Jack’s whims, Jack thought he had the upper hand in a relationship that consisted of what he was willing to give. Namely, not much.
Ianto knew it from the very beginning. He was far more intelligent Jack had given him credit.
It crawled through the shadows, just as Jack had done, the night they returned from the Welsh countryside. Tenderness. Jack has given him tenderness. Ianto stood there while Jack helped him clean the blood, stayed by him while he vomited when memories came to prison him, seeped warmth through his frozen body when he laid on the bed, and soothed the nightmares away.
Ianto knew long before Jack could even start to suspect.
He pushed Jack against the wall, not demanding an explanation, not in envy of Jack’s eternal - but in no way threatening - love for Gwen.
“I sometimes feel so sorry for you”, Ianto murmured harshly by Jack’s ear. “You’re so dim for someone who has lived for so many years.”
Jack tried to push him away. “You can leave any time you want, you know. I won’t stop you.” Seeing Gwen leaving with Rhys was enough of emotion for one day, Jack told to himself. Strangely enough, instead of leaving, Ianto nodded at him. And then kissed him. The young man’s fingers massaged his scalp while his lips did the same to Jack’s mouth.
Jack was helpless against the tenderness shown to him, in a moment he wanted rough and quick. “Please, Ianto.” He begged, but what did he beg for?
“You’re so ignorant.” The same whispered voice that made Jack’s stomach clench and heart beat faster.
“You don’t know what you want.”
Of course he did. “I want…” to be cut to pieces and become whole again.
“I thought…” he wanted Gwen, or what he thought was, or what he thought Gwen represented.
“You thought? With what?” Ianto was amused, and protective, and sensual, and… tender. But sarcastic. As always
What was Ianto’s game? “I know what I want, Ianto.”
“And what’s that, Jack?”
And it was time for Jack to be honest to himself, if not to Ianto.
A/N: I wrote this last October, and it's one of the lucky stories I had saved in a usb. Yay! However, I did make some changes (present/past tense and more). Hope you'll like.