Songfic: Human Touch (1/1)
Rating: PG-13 to 15
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Ianto, Team (briefly) ; Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: 1x04, 1x06
Warnings: M/M kissing; Suggested M/M sex; Angst
Summary: "You and me we were the pretenders
We let it all slip away.
In the end what you don't surrender,
Well the world just strips away." - Human Touch, Bruce Springsteen
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the song, they belong to RTD and The Boss respectively
Author's Note: I figured I'd post this over here as I'm currently having a Boss moment... I also just like this as a healing/relationship fic - I heard the lyrics and decided this was a perfect way to explain our boys' relationship. I know some of you won't like the way I've written Ianto, but I hope you can understand where I'm coming from. Jack's POV mostly, something which I don't do that much, but I really should!
Also, thankyou to everyone who read and commented on my 'Have You Come For Confession?' fic, all your comments were amazing and you really helped. Basically, the brother of a friend of mine overdosed after a tough time with family losses. I wrote it over the day of not hearing anything about him and I left the ending open until I found out that he was moved from ICU. He's now at home and on the road to recovery.
I just didn't know how to deal with it and I hit a complete rock bottom, considering all sorts of things to move past it and stuff, including something drastic/permanent - so your comments really helped me keep my head above the water. Thankyou all so much x
---
Human Touch by Bruce Springsteen
You and me we were the pretenders,
We let it all slip away.
In the end what you don’t surrender,
Well the world just strips away.
Jack had never felt as used as he had in the beginning of his relationship with Ianto. The occasional shag without any promise of a repeat, with absolutely no emotional attachment.
Of course, he didn’t realise why until later, and by the time he did, he didn’t begrudge Ianto because of it. The young man had been in emotional turmoil - every second of the day that he was alive and sane was a blessing. His mind tore him in two and his heart just made the fight worse.
The first time Ianto had turned up in Jack’s office, at almost midnight - long after the rest of the team had left - Jack hadn’t questioned it at all. He’d been glad that the man was there, of his free will no less, and he’d taken advantage of the situation to have some of the best sex he could remember.
Almost as soon as both of them had collapsed from the exertion, Ianto had pulled himself out of bed and gotten dressed, Jack lying on his back with a half smile on his face, eyes closed as he regained his composure. When he opened them again, Ianto was fully dressed, pulling his tie into place and tightening it, flicking his shirt collar down. Without a word, he’d climbed up to Jack’s office and left.
At work the next day, he’d been the same as ever; polite and genial, arguing lightly with Owen and assisting Tosh with her latest computer program. Gwen was still a little stiff with the young man since the episode with Lisa and the almost-slaughtering of the entire team.
Jack hadn’t been particularly surprised at the distant look on his face, or the stiffness of his demeanour, taking it as the continuing after effects of the disaster with his girlfriend.
The Welshman still didn’t talk to him for anything other than work business and Jack wasn’t vain enough to think that the night before had changed anything between them. Ianto still despised Jack for killing Lisa and Jack still found the threat of cyber invasion a sore topic to talk about.
In the lulls between workloads, Jack found himself taking the time to consider the young man, to realise just what he’d lost. He’d refused to give up on Lisa, refused to believe she was beyond help, but he was rewarded with all he had fought for over the past year of his life being ripped away from him.
He thought about the time before Lisa had been discovered, the tentative flirting, the beginning of something that could’ve been an amazing romance… But that had all changed, and Jack doubted it would return anytime soon. It was better to just forget about it.
Girl, ain’t no kindness in the face of strangers,
Ain’t gonna find no miracles here.
Well you can wait on your blessings, my darlin',
But I got a deal for you right here.
Ianto hadn’t returned to Jack’s office in the middle of the night again and that first visit was never mentioned.
Jack had felt the itch to remind him of it once or twice, especially in Brecon Beacons, when he lied to Gwen’s ‘last kiss’ question. It had bothered him deeply, but he couldn’t have explained why. He had, however, remained slightly broody throughout the rest of the day.
That had changed when he heard about what the young man had done for Tosh, when he heard about the butcher’s knife to his throat. This boy - for that was all he really was; young and innocent, despite his horrific personal history - had risked his life to save someone who knew nothing more personal about him than his date of birth.
Jack marvelled at that and felt an unusual feeling inside himself, something he’d buried away months before. Again, he pushed it to one side, at least until the fiasco with the cannibals had been taken care of.
On the quiet drive from the hub, where he’d dropped Owen and the two women, to Ianto’s inner city apartment, Jack speculated. The young man had been reluctant to be alone with the Captain, but considering he had a handful of broken ribs and could barely walk straight, he’d resigned himself to being dropped home.
Why was he so weary of him? Was this still because of Lisa? Jack glanced over at the hunched figure again and found him looking out of the window, breathing in quick, shallow gasps, shivering violently. He felt a sudden need to comfort the young man, but had no idea how.
In silence, he pulled up outside Ianto’s building.
“Ianto?” was all he came up with after a minute or so of deliberation. He was met with the glassy stare of the Welshman and slightly raised eyebrows as an affirmation. “I just wanted to say that you did yourself proud today… You did me proud.”
Jack turned his eyes back to the road, painfully aware of Ianto’s confused expression as he tried to keep his eyes focussed on the Captain. He must have believed he was dreaming.
“Not everyone’s like that, you know?” Jack’s mouth blurted out his thoughts before he could stop himself. He couldn’t stand the distant look in Ianto’s eyes. “Not everyone is a mass murdering, cannibalistic psychopath.”
He turned to look at Ianto and found the young man’s eyes full of hopelessness. As if seeking more tangible proof of Jack’s words, Ianto leant forwards and kissed Jack roughly, desperation evident. When he pulled away, he didn’t look at Jack, he just opened his door and swung his legs out. He turned his head stiffly to look at his boss again, whispering,
“I know,” before climbing out and slamming the door behind him, limping awkwardly towards his building and disappearing inside.
I ain’t looking for prayers or pity,
I ain’t coming round searchin' for a crutch,
I just want someone to talk to,
And a little of that human touch,
Just a little of that human touch.
The next day, Ianto had called in sick, explaining monotonously that his ribs were too painful for him to do anymore than walk from his bedroom to his kitchen. Jack made a mental note to go visit the young man that evening, worried about his state of mind, as well as his physical wounds.
Something inside him was hinting at other motives, but he didn’t even humour it. His visit was strictly work related.
When he turned up at the young man’s flat, he made sure he had his copy of the front door key with him. After five minutes of knocking and waiting, he twisted the key in the lock and stepped into the small flat, scanning the open plan kitchen and living area.
On the sofa, huddled awkwardly in a nest of duvet and sheets, was Ianto. As Jack stepped closer, something tugged at his insides at the sight of several empty sleeves of paracetamol and a variety of half drunk glasses of water scattered across the coffee table. He immediately put his fingers to the side of Ianto’s throat, feeling a weak and slightly thready pulse.
Alarm made him shake the young man awake. Ianto groaned loudly and screwed his eyes up, gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest. He was about to lash out at whoever had disturbed him when he realised that someone was there, why was there someone in his flat?
He cracked his eyes open and looked out to find Jack kneeling by the side of the sofa, looking at him with dark concern.
Ianto’s eyes flickered between Jack’s face and the empty pill packets, groaning inwardly at the conclusions Jack must be leaping to. As he tried to push himself up off the sofa, Jack placed a hand on his shoulder and forced him back down, now standing over him.
“Knock it off, Jack.” He pushed the hand away and stood up, shaking a little at the cold air that swirled around his legs. He’d forgotten that he’d been sleeping in pyjama shorts instead of trousers. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, or try to support me through this. There’s no ‘this’ in the first place.”
“Ianto, I’m worried about you.” Ianto was in the kitchen by now, filling the kettle and putting it on. He didn’t need to look up to see the genuine worry in Jack’s eyes. The last thing he needed was for things to get emotionally complicated with the man.
“Don’t be.” He snapped his mouth shut as soon as the words were free, the bitterness in the syllables unintended. He could feel Jack’s eyes boring into him.
The silence yawned between them, Ianto knowing exactly what Jack was thinking and Jack extremely reluctant to admit it. He sighed heavily and walked away, leaving the kettle to cool down, suddenly not interested in the caffeine. He walked past the motionless Jack, scooped up his duvet and padded through the flat and into another room.
After a moment, Jack followed, walking in to find Ianto struggling to spread the thick blanket out over his bed. He quickly moved up beside him and firmly replaced the young man’s grip with his own, shaking the cover out and folding the side over, stepping back to allow Ianto to climb in. He watched to make sure that the young man was as comfortable as he could get before heading towards the door.
“Jack?” The voice was quiet, timid in contrast to the confident words of earlier. It made Jack turn around straight away.
“Is there something you need, Ianto?” The two men looked at each other for a long time, both trying to gauge the other’s thoughts.
“Could you… Could you stay tonight?” His voice was even quieter, but Jack recognised the look in his eyes. His world had been shattered once, tentatively rebuilt on false hope only to be shattered again.
Just when he’d started to piece it back together for a second time, he’d almost been killed. He wanted confirmation that this was real, that he was still alive and that the human race hadn’t deserted him.
It was for that reason that Jack nodded, shrugging his coat off and kicking his boots into a corner of the room. He flicked the light off and lay down on top of the covers, a respectful distance from Ianto. He felt the warm body next to him shift a little, move closer so that all that separated them was the duvet. Jack turned onto his side and wrapped Ianto in his arms, wondering just what he was doing there.
Ain’t no mercy on the streets of this town,
Ain’t no bread from heavenly skies.
Ain’t nobody drawin' wine from this blood,
It’s just you and me tonight.
It was another two weeks before Ianto turned up to work again, and Jack had spent another two nights lying next to him. Neither man acknowledged the visits and their subtly evolving relationship remained undiscovered, even by them.
On the first day back at work, Ianto had simply carried on as if nothing had happened in Brecon Beacons, as if the past three weeks of his life hadn’t occurred.
At least, to Tosh, Owen and Gwen he seemed like he was fine. Jack was starting to notice the differences in him.
It had been a tough day and the team, minus Ianto on Owen’s orders, had a call out to retrieve several loose weevils. Their usually carnivorous nature was intensified by the vicious snarls of hunger that day, and unfortunately, none of the team had reminded Ianto when he went to do bio scans and feed the new inmates before they’d gone out for a final sighting..
They’d returned to find Ianto looking distinctly unimpressed with several long scrapes along his left arm, bleeding profusely. He was simply sitting on the sofa by the workstations, surrounded by numerous pieces of blood soaked gauze, a fresh one clamped tightly over the worst area. It was a testament to Owen’s skill that he managed to repair the damage as quickly as he did.
Despite Ianto’s growled refusals that evening, Jack had driven him home considering that his arm was still numb from the anaesthetic. He’d climbed out of the car and headed to the front door, turning back to look at Jack, who’d been watching him carefully again.
“You coming in or not?” Ianto face remained passively amused as Jack frowned slightly before climbing out of the car, locking it and heading towards the waiting man.
Tell me in a world without pity,
Do you think that what I’m askin's too much?
I just want something to hold on to,
And a little of that human touch,
Just a little of that human touch.
“Why do you keep coming back here, Jack?” Ianto was sitting on the edge of his bed, back to the other man. He linked his fingers together and wrapped his hands over the back of his neck, elbows on knees, eyes to the floor.
Inside his mind was swirling with thoughts and emotions. For so long he’d fought off the rising desire to be with Jack, knowing that it would mean he had let go of Lisa, that he’d moved on. It would also mean acknowledging his dependence on the other man. It would mean owning up to his true feelings.
All he wanted at that current moment in time was someone to be with him physically, who wouldn’t expect more than that. As callous as it sounded, he wanted someone to make him feel human, not to connect with him.
“I keep coming back because you need me to keep coming back.” Jack was pulling his boxers and trousers back on, standing up to grab his undershirt and button down. He didn’t look back at Ianto, he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d felt something new for the young man and he was scared of it. He didn’t want it to be there because it would make everything that much more uncomfortable if the feeling wasn’t reciprocated.
“Jack…” He turned around at that, hearing the pain in the young man’s voice, hearing the confusion and the fear. He looked into his eyes and he saw a little boy, lost and alone.
“What do you want me to do, Ianto?” His voice was quiet and Ianto simply lifted a hand and held it out for him.
He took it in his and sat back down on the bed, pulling the young man towards him and holding him securely. They were both dangerously close to crossing the boundary of physical companionship to emotional closeness.
Neither of them gave it a second thought as they crossed it.
Oh girl that feelin' of safety you prize,
Well it comes with a hard price.
You can’t shut off the risk and the pain,
Without losin' the love that remains.
We're all riders on this train.
It was about two in the morning when Jack woke up from his doze to the sound of someone sobbing. He pulled himself up off the bed, smoothly pulling his boxers and undershirt back on before padding across the now empty bedroom to the source of the disturbance.
As he looked around the door, he saw Ianto, kneeling down by the window, illuminated by the half light pooling from the street lamp outside the window. The young man was dressed in his pyjama trousers and a baggy t-shirt, rocking slowly back and forwards, his hands clamped over his mouth to try and stifle the heart wrenching sobs.
The rocking slowly stopped until his forehead was leaning on the floor, eyes closed so that the tears spilled out and dropped to the carpet, soaking in.
The sobbing eventually stopped as well, taking an excruciatingly long time to subdue. Jack knew he couldn’t interfere. Something told him that this was a battle Ianto needed to fight on his own. All he could do was wait and comfort him when he came through the other side.
“It hurts…”
Jack jumped slightly at the faint, half choked voice, thinking for a moment that it was directed at him, before he realised that Ianto was just thinking out loud, his hands having moved to grip fiercely onto his hair, white knuckled.
“It hurts and I can’t stop it…”
He stopped and gulped at the air, eyes still screwed shut, trying to block out some intruding image. It was then that Jack noticed the picture frame lying on the floor next to him, the glass cracked into a spider web of shards, somehow managing to stay in their metal confines. He could just make out the picture beneath; two people, kissing each other, so in love that some of the emotion had been captured with the light.
But now the glass over it was broken, smashed directly above where the lips would be meeting. Jack had no doubt that it was Ianto and Lisa. How long had he been cornering off the pain of losing her? Did he think it was safer to pretend she’d never existed? At the cost of losing everything he remembered about her?
It almost made Jack feel angry with the young man, but then he remembered a time when he’d reacted in the same fashion. It was only his extensive experience that had taught him to never forget a lover when they meant enough to cry over.
The safe, comforting nothingness that accompanied forgetting the one you’d loved so completely was almost worth forgetting the exact colour of their eyes.
Almost.
So you been broken and you been hurt,
Show me somebody who ain’t.
Yeah, I know I ain’t nobody's bargain,
And a little paint.
He stepped forwards then, sensing that an intervention was needed. He stepped gently across the room and knelt down next to Ianto, on the opposite side to the broken picture frame. Neither one of them spoke. After a few moments, Ianto started to cry again, his body instinctively rocking itself to try and sooth the turmoil inside.
Gently, Jack placed a hand on his back and rubbed slow circles over it.
As the crying continued, deepened, Jack moved his hand round Ianto’s waist and pulled him to his chest, his free hand coming up around his shoulders to hold him close. Ianto’s hands moved down to grip Jack’s undershirt and his crying intensified, desperation and raw pain dripping from every jagged breath.
All Jack could do was hold him, rocking him gently and kissing the top of his head every so often, waiting. Waiting for the pain to die down enough for him to speak or sleep - anything to stop the sobbing.
Eventually, after half an hour, Ianto seemed to have cried himself out. His eyes were raw and painful, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
Some part of his brain had become disconnected and he couldn’t work out who the strong arms around him belonged to, at first. Then he smelt the warm, familiar scent that came so naturally to Jack and the tension in his shoulders instantly left. Apparently, the part of his mind that was loose was also the part that gave him rationale.
“Ianto, you need to get some sleep.” Jack’s voice was a quiet murmur, echoing deep in his chest. Ianto just shook his head. “Yes. You need to sleep, you’re worn out, you’re hurting. You need to rest.”
"No, Jack. I can’t.” His voice sounded hoarse and his throat burned a little as he attempted to speak.
“Yes, Ianto, you can.” Ianto felt the pain rise in his chest again, restricting his breathing. Jack heard the subtle change to the young man’s breathing and stroked his hair gently.
This was going to be a tough one. How many times had Ianto been like this, all alone with no one to comfort him? The thought was painful for Jack to entertain. Ianto hated the world to see him for who he really was, he hated people to know he had human weaknesses.
Every so often, someone or something would chip the pristine paintwork and he’d try to cover it up, but never repair it. How many chips and cracks in the façade were there?
You might need something to hold on to,
When all the answers, they don’t amount to much.
Somebody that you just can talk to,
And a little of that human touch.
After a few moments, Ianto pushed himself up, pulling Jack along with him. He headed slowly, reluctantly into the bedroom and curled up on the bed, pulling the covers around him as a warm protection. Then he turned to Jack, who was now lying on the opposite side of the large double bed, propped up on one elbow and watching him carefully.
The young man moved closer, enveloping him in his makeshift fortress and resting his head on Jack’s chest, gripping on tightly to the front of his shirt again. After a few moments of deliberation, Jack wrapped his arms around the young man and held him firmly to his body as the young man drifted off to sleep.
The remaining few hours of night passed and the morning broke, sunlight falling faintly through the crack in the deep brown curtains hanging at Ianto’s bedroom window. Jack knew that when he awoke, Ianto wouldn’t talk about what had happened.
He knew that the young man would pull on his broken and damaged armour and he would go about his business as if that night had never happened.
He also knew that the world was unrelenting and dangerous to someone vulnerable, and Ianto was about as vulnerable as they came right now. He needed his armour to survive, living day by day in the hope that it would be enough.
Jack could offer Ianto everything, but he could only give as much as the young man wanted to take.
When Jack walked into the hub, mid morning the next day to check on his team, the small smile Ianto gave him was enough to assure Jack that something had changed during the night.
He was ready to repair his armour.
Baby, in a world without pity,
Do you think what I’m askin's too much?
I just want to feel you in my arms,
And share a little of that human touch...
---
FIN - hope you enjoyed it =]
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Ianto, Team (briefly) ; Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: 1x04, 1x06
Warnings: M/M kissing; Suggested M/M sex; Angst
Summary: "You and me we were the pretenders
We let it all slip away.
In the end what you don't surrender,
Well the world just strips away." - Human Touch, Bruce Springsteen
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the song, they belong to RTD and The Boss respectively
Author's Note: I figured I'd post this over here as I'm currently having a Boss moment... I also just like this as a healing/relationship fic - I heard the lyrics and decided this was a perfect way to explain our boys' relationship. I know some of you won't like the way I've written Ianto, but I hope you can understand where I'm coming from. Jack's POV mostly, something which I don't do that much, but I really should!
Also, thankyou to everyone who read and commented on my 'Have You Come For Confession?' fic, all your comments were amazing and you really helped. Basically, the brother of a friend of mine overdosed after a tough time with family losses. I wrote it over the day of not hearing anything about him and I left the ending open until I found out that he was moved from ICU. He's now at home and on the road to recovery.
I just didn't know how to deal with it and I hit a complete rock bottom, considering all sorts of things to move past it and stuff, including something drastic/permanent - so your comments really helped me keep my head above the water. Thankyou all so much x
---
Human Touch by Bruce Springsteen
You and me we were the pretenders,
We let it all slip away.
In the end what you don’t surrender,
Well the world just strips away.
Jack had never felt as used as he had in the beginning of his relationship with Ianto. The occasional shag without any promise of a repeat, with absolutely no emotional attachment.
Of course, he didn’t realise why until later, and by the time he did, he didn’t begrudge Ianto because of it. The young man had been in emotional turmoil - every second of the day that he was alive and sane was a blessing. His mind tore him in two and his heart just made the fight worse.
The first time Ianto had turned up in Jack’s office, at almost midnight - long after the rest of the team had left - Jack hadn’t questioned it at all. He’d been glad that the man was there, of his free will no less, and he’d taken advantage of the situation to have some of the best sex he could remember.
Almost as soon as both of them had collapsed from the exertion, Ianto had pulled himself out of bed and gotten dressed, Jack lying on his back with a half smile on his face, eyes closed as he regained his composure. When he opened them again, Ianto was fully dressed, pulling his tie into place and tightening it, flicking his shirt collar down. Without a word, he’d climbed up to Jack’s office and left.
At work the next day, he’d been the same as ever; polite and genial, arguing lightly with Owen and assisting Tosh with her latest computer program. Gwen was still a little stiff with the young man since the episode with Lisa and the almost-slaughtering of the entire team.
Jack hadn’t been particularly surprised at the distant look on his face, or the stiffness of his demeanour, taking it as the continuing after effects of the disaster with his girlfriend.
The Welshman still didn’t talk to him for anything other than work business and Jack wasn’t vain enough to think that the night before had changed anything between them. Ianto still despised Jack for killing Lisa and Jack still found the threat of cyber invasion a sore topic to talk about.
In the lulls between workloads, Jack found himself taking the time to consider the young man, to realise just what he’d lost. He’d refused to give up on Lisa, refused to believe she was beyond help, but he was rewarded with all he had fought for over the past year of his life being ripped away from him.
He thought about the time before Lisa had been discovered, the tentative flirting, the beginning of something that could’ve been an amazing romance… But that had all changed, and Jack doubted it would return anytime soon. It was better to just forget about it.
Girl, ain’t no kindness in the face of strangers,
Ain’t gonna find no miracles here.
Well you can wait on your blessings, my darlin',
But I got a deal for you right here.
Ianto hadn’t returned to Jack’s office in the middle of the night again and that first visit was never mentioned.
Jack had felt the itch to remind him of it once or twice, especially in Brecon Beacons, when he lied to Gwen’s ‘last kiss’ question. It had bothered him deeply, but he couldn’t have explained why. He had, however, remained slightly broody throughout the rest of the day.
That had changed when he heard about what the young man had done for Tosh, when he heard about the butcher’s knife to his throat. This boy - for that was all he really was; young and innocent, despite his horrific personal history - had risked his life to save someone who knew nothing more personal about him than his date of birth.
Jack marvelled at that and felt an unusual feeling inside himself, something he’d buried away months before. Again, he pushed it to one side, at least until the fiasco with the cannibals had been taken care of.
On the quiet drive from the hub, where he’d dropped Owen and the two women, to Ianto’s inner city apartment, Jack speculated. The young man had been reluctant to be alone with the Captain, but considering he had a handful of broken ribs and could barely walk straight, he’d resigned himself to being dropped home.
Why was he so weary of him? Was this still because of Lisa? Jack glanced over at the hunched figure again and found him looking out of the window, breathing in quick, shallow gasps, shivering violently. He felt a sudden need to comfort the young man, but had no idea how.
In silence, he pulled up outside Ianto’s building.
“Ianto?” was all he came up with after a minute or so of deliberation. He was met with the glassy stare of the Welshman and slightly raised eyebrows as an affirmation. “I just wanted to say that you did yourself proud today… You did me proud.”
Jack turned his eyes back to the road, painfully aware of Ianto’s confused expression as he tried to keep his eyes focussed on the Captain. He must have believed he was dreaming.
“Not everyone’s like that, you know?” Jack’s mouth blurted out his thoughts before he could stop himself. He couldn’t stand the distant look in Ianto’s eyes. “Not everyone is a mass murdering, cannibalistic psychopath.”
He turned to look at Ianto and found the young man’s eyes full of hopelessness. As if seeking more tangible proof of Jack’s words, Ianto leant forwards and kissed Jack roughly, desperation evident. When he pulled away, he didn’t look at Jack, he just opened his door and swung his legs out. He turned his head stiffly to look at his boss again, whispering,
“I know,” before climbing out and slamming the door behind him, limping awkwardly towards his building and disappearing inside.
I ain’t looking for prayers or pity,
I ain’t coming round searchin' for a crutch,
I just want someone to talk to,
And a little of that human touch,
Just a little of that human touch.
The next day, Ianto had called in sick, explaining monotonously that his ribs were too painful for him to do anymore than walk from his bedroom to his kitchen. Jack made a mental note to go visit the young man that evening, worried about his state of mind, as well as his physical wounds.
Something inside him was hinting at other motives, but he didn’t even humour it. His visit was strictly work related.
When he turned up at the young man’s flat, he made sure he had his copy of the front door key with him. After five minutes of knocking and waiting, he twisted the key in the lock and stepped into the small flat, scanning the open plan kitchen and living area.
On the sofa, huddled awkwardly in a nest of duvet and sheets, was Ianto. As Jack stepped closer, something tugged at his insides at the sight of several empty sleeves of paracetamol and a variety of half drunk glasses of water scattered across the coffee table. He immediately put his fingers to the side of Ianto’s throat, feeling a weak and slightly thready pulse.
Alarm made him shake the young man awake. Ianto groaned loudly and screwed his eyes up, gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest. He was about to lash out at whoever had disturbed him when he realised that someone was there, why was there someone in his flat?
He cracked his eyes open and looked out to find Jack kneeling by the side of the sofa, looking at him with dark concern.
Ianto’s eyes flickered between Jack’s face and the empty pill packets, groaning inwardly at the conclusions Jack must be leaping to. As he tried to push himself up off the sofa, Jack placed a hand on his shoulder and forced him back down, now standing over him.
“Knock it off, Jack.” He pushed the hand away and stood up, shaking a little at the cold air that swirled around his legs. He’d forgotten that he’d been sleeping in pyjama shorts instead of trousers. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, or try to support me through this. There’s no ‘this’ in the first place.”
“Ianto, I’m worried about you.” Ianto was in the kitchen by now, filling the kettle and putting it on. He didn’t need to look up to see the genuine worry in Jack’s eyes. The last thing he needed was for things to get emotionally complicated with the man.
“Don’t be.” He snapped his mouth shut as soon as the words were free, the bitterness in the syllables unintended. He could feel Jack’s eyes boring into him.
The silence yawned between them, Ianto knowing exactly what Jack was thinking and Jack extremely reluctant to admit it. He sighed heavily and walked away, leaving the kettle to cool down, suddenly not interested in the caffeine. He walked past the motionless Jack, scooped up his duvet and padded through the flat and into another room.
After a moment, Jack followed, walking in to find Ianto struggling to spread the thick blanket out over his bed. He quickly moved up beside him and firmly replaced the young man’s grip with his own, shaking the cover out and folding the side over, stepping back to allow Ianto to climb in. He watched to make sure that the young man was as comfortable as he could get before heading towards the door.
“Jack?” The voice was quiet, timid in contrast to the confident words of earlier. It made Jack turn around straight away.
“Is there something you need, Ianto?” The two men looked at each other for a long time, both trying to gauge the other’s thoughts.
“Could you… Could you stay tonight?” His voice was even quieter, but Jack recognised the look in his eyes. His world had been shattered once, tentatively rebuilt on false hope only to be shattered again.
Just when he’d started to piece it back together for a second time, he’d almost been killed. He wanted confirmation that this was real, that he was still alive and that the human race hadn’t deserted him.
It was for that reason that Jack nodded, shrugging his coat off and kicking his boots into a corner of the room. He flicked the light off and lay down on top of the covers, a respectful distance from Ianto. He felt the warm body next to him shift a little, move closer so that all that separated them was the duvet. Jack turned onto his side and wrapped Ianto in his arms, wondering just what he was doing there.
Ain’t no mercy on the streets of this town,
Ain’t no bread from heavenly skies.
Ain’t nobody drawin' wine from this blood,
It’s just you and me tonight.
It was another two weeks before Ianto turned up to work again, and Jack had spent another two nights lying next to him. Neither man acknowledged the visits and their subtly evolving relationship remained undiscovered, even by them.
On the first day back at work, Ianto had simply carried on as if nothing had happened in Brecon Beacons, as if the past three weeks of his life hadn’t occurred.
At least, to Tosh, Owen and Gwen he seemed like he was fine. Jack was starting to notice the differences in him.
It had been a tough day and the team, minus Ianto on Owen’s orders, had a call out to retrieve several loose weevils. Their usually carnivorous nature was intensified by the vicious snarls of hunger that day, and unfortunately, none of the team had reminded Ianto when he went to do bio scans and feed the new inmates before they’d gone out for a final sighting..
They’d returned to find Ianto looking distinctly unimpressed with several long scrapes along his left arm, bleeding profusely. He was simply sitting on the sofa by the workstations, surrounded by numerous pieces of blood soaked gauze, a fresh one clamped tightly over the worst area. It was a testament to Owen’s skill that he managed to repair the damage as quickly as he did.
Despite Ianto’s growled refusals that evening, Jack had driven him home considering that his arm was still numb from the anaesthetic. He’d climbed out of the car and headed to the front door, turning back to look at Jack, who’d been watching him carefully again.
“You coming in or not?” Ianto face remained passively amused as Jack frowned slightly before climbing out of the car, locking it and heading towards the waiting man.
Tell me in a world without pity,
Do you think that what I’m askin's too much?
I just want something to hold on to,
And a little of that human touch,
Just a little of that human touch.
“Why do you keep coming back here, Jack?” Ianto was sitting on the edge of his bed, back to the other man. He linked his fingers together and wrapped his hands over the back of his neck, elbows on knees, eyes to the floor.
Inside his mind was swirling with thoughts and emotions. For so long he’d fought off the rising desire to be with Jack, knowing that it would mean he had let go of Lisa, that he’d moved on. It would also mean acknowledging his dependence on the other man. It would mean owning up to his true feelings.
All he wanted at that current moment in time was someone to be with him physically, who wouldn’t expect more than that. As callous as it sounded, he wanted someone to make him feel human, not to connect with him.
“I keep coming back because you need me to keep coming back.” Jack was pulling his boxers and trousers back on, standing up to grab his undershirt and button down. He didn’t look back at Ianto, he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d felt something new for the young man and he was scared of it. He didn’t want it to be there because it would make everything that much more uncomfortable if the feeling wasn’t reciprocated.
“Jack…” He turned around at that, hearing the pain in the young man’s voice, hearing the confusion and the fear. He looked into his eyes and he saw a little boy, lost and alone.
“What do you want me to do, Ianto?” His voice was quiet and Ianto simply lifted a hand and held it out for him.
He took it in his and sat back down on the bed, pulling the young man towards him and holding him securely. They were both dangerously close to crossing the boundary of physical companionship to emotional closeness.
Neither of them gave it a second thought as they crossed it.
Oh girl that feelin' of safety you prize,
Well it comes with a hard price.
You can’t shut off the risk and the pain,
Without losin' the love that remains.
We're all riders on this train.
It was about two in the morning when Jack woke up from his doze to the sound of someone sobbing. He pulled himself up off the bed, smoothly pulling his boxers and undershirt back on before padding across the now empty bedroom to the source of the disturbance.
As he looked around the door, he saw Ianto, kneeling down by the window, illuminated by the half light pooling from the street lamp outside the window. The young man was dressed in his pyjama trousers and a baggy t-shirt, rocking slowly back and forwards, his hands clamped over his mouth to try and stifle the heart wrenching sobs.
The rocking slowly stopped until his forehead was leaning on the floor, eyes closed so that the tears spilled out and dropped to the carpet, soaking in.
The sobbing eventually stopped as well, taking an excruciatingly long time to subdue. Jack knew he couldn’t interfere. Something told him that this was a battle Ianto needed to fight on his own. All he could do was wait and comfort him when he came through the other side.
“It hurts…”
Jack jumped slightly at the faint, half choked voice, thinking for a moment that it was directed at him, before he realised that Ianto was just thinking out loud, his hands having moved to grip fiercely onto his hair, white knuckled.
“It hurts and I can’t stop it…”
He stopped and gulped at the air, eyes still screwed shut, trying to block out some intruding image. It was then that Jack noticed the picture frame lying on the floor next to him, the glass cracked into a spider web of shards, somehow managing to stay in their metal confines. He could just make out the picture beneath; two people, kissing each other, so in love that some of the emotion had been captured with the light.
But now the glass over it was broken, smashed directly above where the lips would be meeting. Jack had no doubt that it was Ianto and Lisa. How long had he been cornering off the pain of losing her? Did he think it was safer to pretend she’d never existed? At the cost of losing everything he remembered about her?
It almost made Jack feel angry with the young man, but then he remembered a time when he’d reacted in the same fashion. It was only his extensive experience that had taught him to never forget a lover when they meant enough to cry over.
The safe, comforting nothingness that accompanied forgetting the one you’d loved so completely was almost worth forgetting the exact colour of their eyes.
Almost.
So you been broken and you been hurt,
Show me somebody who ain’t.
Yeah, I know I ain’t nobody's bargain,
And a little paint.
He stepped forwards then, sensing that an intervention was needed. He stepped gently across the room and knelt down next to Ianto, on the opposite side to the broken picture frame. Neither one of them spoke. After a few moments, Ianto started to cry again, his body instinctively rocking itself to try and sooth the turmoil inside.
Gently, Jack placed a hand on his back and rubbed slow circles over it.
As the crying continued, deepened, Jack moved his hand round Ianto’s waist and pulled him to his chest, his free hand coming up around his shoulders to hold him close. Ianto’s hands moved down to grip Jack’s undershirt and his crying intensified, desperation and raw pain dripping from every jagged breath.
All Jack could do was hold him, rocking him gently and kissing the top of his head every so often, waiting. Waiting for the pain to die down enough for him to speak or sleep - anything to stop the sobbing.
Eventually, after half an hour, Ianto seemed to have cried himself out. His eyes were raw and painful, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
Some part of his brain had become disconnected and he couldn’t work out who the strong arms around him belonged to, at first. Then he smelt the warm, familiar scent that came so naturally to Jack and the tension in his shoulders instantly left. Apparently, the part of his mind that was loose was also the part that gave him rationale.
“Ianto, you need to get some sleep.” Jack’s voice was a quiet murmur, echoing deep in his chest. Ianto just shook his head. “Yes. You need to sleep, you’re worn out, you’re hurting. You need to rest.”
"No, Jack. I can’t.” His voice sounded hoarse and his throat burned a little as he attempted to speak.
“Yes, Ianto, you can.” Ianto felt the pain rise in his chest again, restricting his breathing. Jack heard the subtle change to the young man’s breathing and stroked his hair gently.
This was going to be a tough one. How many times had Ianto been like this, all alone with no one to comfort him? The thought was painful for Jack to entertain. Ianto hated the world to see him for who he really was, he hated people to know he had human weaknesses.
Every so often, someone or something would chip the pristine paintwork and he’d try to cover it up, but never repair it. How many chips and cracks in the façade were there?
You might need something to hold on to,
When all the answers, they don’t amount to much.
Somebody that you just can talk to,
And a little of that human touch.
After a few moments, Ianto pushed himself up, pulling Jack along with him. He headed slowly, reluctantly into the bedroom and curled up on the bed, pulling the covers around him as a warm protection. Then he turned to Jack, who was now lying on the opposite side of the large double bed, propped up on one elbow and watching him carefully.
The young man moved closer, enveloping him in his makeshift fortress and resting his head on Jack’s chest, gripping on tightly to the front of his shirt again. After a few moments of deliberation, Jack wrapped his arms around the young man and held him firmly to his body as the young man drifted off to sleep.
The remaining few hours of night passed and the morning broke, sunlight falling faintly through the crack in the deep brown curtains hanging at Ianto’s bedroom window. Jack knew that when he awoke, Ianto wouldn’t talk about what had happened.
He knew that the young man would pull on his broken and damaged armour and he would go about his business as if that night had never happened.
He also knew that the world was unrelenting and dangerous to someone vulnerable, and Ianto was about as vulnerable as they came right now. He needed his armour to survive, living day by day in the hope that it would be enough.
Jack could offer Ianto everything, but he could only give as much as the young man wanted to take.
When Jack walked into the hub, mid morning the next day to check on his team, the small smile Ianto gave him was enough to assure Jack that something had changed during the night.
He was ready to repair his armour.
Baby, in a world without pity,
Do you think what I’m askin's too much?
I just want to feel you in my arms,
And share a little of that human touch...
---
FIN - hope you enjoyed it =]