Fic: Twisted and Broken 1/1 PG-15 Torchwood
Title: Twisted and Broken
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Ianto/PC Andy (background Jack/Ianto)
Rating: PG-15
Warnings/Spoilers: None.
Summary: Ianto has a need that Torchwood can't provide.
Disclaimer: I have 2 Jack Harnknesses and a weevil, but I haven't got my hands on Ianto yet and somehow I doubt they'll ever do a PC Andy figure. Apart from that I own none of this stuff and am only playing.
Title from the song of the same name by Abney Park
A/N: Um, yeah. Don't know where this came from, but it kind of sneaked up on me. I've always carried a torch (ahem) for Ianto and Andy and I also think that though Andy is far too damn *nice* for his own good, he has a great deal more backbone than we see onscreen. As they say, it's always the quiet ones you need to worry about... which is why I find Ianto and Andy a near irresistible combination.
Twisted and Broken
He could almost feel the smouldering brown eyes burning a hole in his back, but Ianto still could not turn to face the man on the rumpled bed. Stupid really, seeing as it was Andy's house and bed and he had every right to lie in it looking sweaty and dishevelled; Ianto was the interloper, the discordant note in what should have been sweet music. He leaned against the window frame and buried his head into the crook of his elbow; unable to face Andy, and unable to face himself. He knew this was wrong for them both but Andy - stubborn, dependable, *passionate* Andy - did not seem to see the problem and Ianto couldn’t help himself. The silence drew out behind him, though it was strangely not an uncomfortable silence, and he could almost taste the anticipation in the air, the weight of waiting.
Eventually, Ianto found his voice.
“I’m broken Andy,” he mumbled into his arm. “I don’t want to break you, too.”
“You won’t. I’m stronger than I look.” Andy sounded so sure of that, and Ianto envied him but he realised he didn’t just need Andy’s strength, he needed his understanding, and that could well open a can of worms that was best left undisturbed. The sensible thing would be to say thank you, I’m sorry and goodbye but Ianto didn’t *want* to be sensible. Not here, not when he was naked in more ways than one.
“It’s not just that. It’s...” Ianto trailed off, at a loss for words. Andy offered his own explanation instead.
“Jack.”
“Not Jack. Not this time... it’s... just...” Ianto took a deep breath, wondering how he could find the words to explain. In the end, he didn’t bother to look, and just said what he felt. “You’re the piece of normalcy in my heart, the chain that anchors me to reality. Jack is...” Ianto’s chuckle sounded desperate even to his own ears. “Jack is so far beyond normal it’s laughable. And sometimes I think he’s even more broken than I am. He’s the fire, the adrenaline rush, the embodiment of Torchwood and I’m like a moth with a flame - I can’t keep away from him even though the closer I get, the more likely I am to burn. I *need* you, Andy, and I don’t think you realise how much, and that scares me.” He turned to rest against the wall, the curtains rough where they dug into his back, and still managed to avoid looking directly at Andy. From the corner of his eye he caught the undulation of Andy’s shoulders that wasn’t - quite - a shrug.
“Like I said, I’m stronger than I look. I can deal with being second best.”
“Second best? You’re not second best. Anything but.” Ianto fought the near-hysterical giggle that threatened to bubble out of his chest under its own volition, but he lost the battle against the lone tear that tricked down his cheek. He turned his head away, not wanting Andy to see. “I’m an addict, a sad fucking addict who can’t keep himself away from the drug that’s killing him. And you’re my lifeline... but I don’t want to drag you down with me.”
“You won’t.” Again that certainty that Ianto both resented and coveted. Andy turned back the sheets and patted the pillow beside him. “Now come back to bed,” he said. Ianto acquiesced; when Andy used that tone of voice there was no way he could refuse, whether it was the right thing to do or not. He pushed everything else to one side and lived, somewhat frantically, for the moment.
~*~
Later, Andy watches as Ianto disappears into the damp, orange-lit shadows of a Cardiff night, heading towards his own flat to shower and change before another day at Torchwood. He sighs. It’s true what he said to Ianto, he is stronger than he looks, but it isn’t always easy. For all that he realises he’s the piece of normalcy in Ianto’s heart it’s probably just as well if Ianto doesn’t know that he’s treasured as the broken piece of Andy’s own.
Author: A Lanart
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Ianto/PC Andy (background Jack/Ianto)
Rating: PG-15
Warnings/Spoilers: None.
Summary: Ianto has a need that Torchwood can't provide.
Disclaimer: I have 2 Jack Harnknesses and a weevil, but I haven't got my hands on Ianto yet and somehow I doubt they'll ever do a PC Andy figure. Apart from that I own none of this stuff and am only playing.
Title from the song of the same name by Abney Park
A/N: Um, yeah. Don't know where this came from, but it kind of sneaked up on me. I've always carried a torch (ahem) for Ianto and Andy and I also think that though Andy is far too damn *nice* for his own good, he has a great deal more backbone than we see onscreen. As they say, it's always the quiet ones you need to worry about... which is why I find Ianto and Andy a near irresistible combination.
Twisted and Broken
He could almost feel the smouldering brown eyes burning a hole in his back, but Ianto still could not turn to face the man on the rumpled bed. Stupid really, seeing as it was Andy's house and bed and he had every right to lie in it looking sweaty and dishevelled; Ianto was the interloper, the discordant note in what should have been sweet music. He leaned against the window frame and buried his head into the crook of his elbow; unable to face Andy, and unable to face himself. He knew this was wrong for them both but Andy - stubborn, dependable, *passionate* Andy - did not seem to see the problem and Ianto couldn’t help himself. The silence drew out behind him, though it was strangely not an uncomfortable silence, and he could almost taste the anticipation in the air, the weight of waiting.
Eventually, Ianto found his voice.
“I’m broken Andy,” he mumbled into his arm. “I don’t want to break you, too.”
“You won’t. I’m stronger than I look.” Andy sounded so sure of that, and Ianto envied him but he realised he didn’t just need Andy’s strength, he needed his understanding, and that could well open a can of worms that was best left undisturbed. The sensible thing would be to say thank you, I’m sorry and goodbye but Ianto didn’t *want* to be sensible. Not here, not when he was naked in more ways than one.
“It’s not just that. It’s...” Ianto trailed off, at a loss for words. Andy offered his own explanation instead.
“Jack.”
“Not Jack. Not this time... it’s... just...” Ianto took a deep breath, wondering how he could find the words to explain. In the end, he didn’t bother to look, and just said what he felt. “You’re the piece of normalcy in my heart, the chain that anchors me to reality. Jack is...” Ianto’s chuckle sounded desperate even to his own ears. “Jack is so far beyond normal it’s laughable. And sometimes I think he’s even more broken than I am. He’s the fire, the adrenaline rush, the embodiment of Torchwood and I’m like a moth with a flame - I can’t keep away from him even though the closer I get, the more likely I am to burn. I *need* you, Andy, and I don’t think you realise how much, and that scares me.” He turned to rest against the wall, the curtains rough where they dug into his back, and still managed to avoid looking directly at Andy. From the corner of his eye he caught the undulation of Andy’s shoulders that wasn’t - quite - a shrug.
“Like I said, I’m stronger than I look. I can deal with being second best.”
“Second best? You’re not second best. Anything but.” Ianto fought the near-hysterical giggle that threatened to bubble out of his chest under its own volition, but he lost the battle against the lone tear that tricked down his cheek. He turned his head away, not wanting Andy to see. “I’m an addict, a sad fucking addict who can’t keep himself away from the drug that’s killing him. And you’re my lifeline... but I don’t want to drag you down with me.”
“You won’t.” Again that certainty that Ianto both resented and coveted. Andy turned back the sheets and patted the pillow beside him. “Now come back to bed,” he said. Ianto acquiesced; when Andy used that tone of voice there was no way he could refuse, whether it was the right thing to do or not. He pushed everything else to one side and lived, somewhat frantically, for the moment.
~*~
Later, Andy watches as Ianto disappears into the damp, orange-lit shadows of a Cardiff night, heading towards his own flat to shower and change before another day at Torchwood. He sighs. It’s true what he said to Ianto, he is stronger than he looks, but it isn’t always easy. For all that he realises he’s the piece of normalcy in Ianto’s heart it’s probably just as well if Ianto doesn’t know that he’s treasured as the broken piece of Andy’s own.