Fic: Maybe
Title: Maybe
Author: CrabbyLioness
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Summary: The Courtship of Ianto Jones, Part 2, Sequel to Frustration
Warning: Angst. Far more than I intended, actually.
Spoilers through To the Last Man
Disclaimer: Uncle Rusty said I could play with his toys as long as I didn't charge money.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 485
He's driving me crazy.
Although it could be argued I'm already there.
It could also be argued he got there first.
I'm not good at talking about my feelings. There's usually something more important that needs doing. But ever since London my life has been -- well, hellish really. I was feeling bad enough that seducing Jack seemed like a good idea. Therapeutic, even. I should have realized I'd only end up getting hurt worse.
It was entirely my fault. Our relationship was supposed to be simply physical, a way for two damaged people to make it through the night. It was supposed to be about holding the nightmares at bay. It wasn't supposed to about holding him. Neither of us were supposed to get hurt.
Still, it hurts.
I doubt he really understands. He can't know how much it hurt to be left like that. He can't understand how torn apart I feel inside.
He thinks I'm just teasing him. I'll admit to a bit of that. Quite a lot of that, actually. Mostly though, I'm waiting for looking at him, hearing him, to stop being painful.
We'll take it proper, formal, and slow. Old-fashioned, even. He ought to appreciate that.
Da always said they knew a thing or two in the old days.
And it's working. It doesn't hurt as much to be around him anymore. I'm surprised at how quickly that's leaving. I can even joke around him now.
And doesn't that throw him off balance.
Of course if he were to whisper my name, pull me into his arms, cup my face in his hands and kiss me softly on the lips I would be his all over again. I would be comforted, ecstatic, overjoyed, enraptured, exhilarated...
...weeping inside because all I meant to him was a convenient piece of arse.
But he's letting me take it slow, letting me make all the moves. It's almost bizarre having his respect.
I could get used to it, though.
Since we thawed out poor Tommy it seems like everyone's hurting. We're all walking round with our bundles of pain.
Strange thing is, we're not holding it against each other. We're giving each other the space and the support that we can. Gwen told me to "Bloody cheer up, will you?", when I started brooding about Canary Wharf. I know, she doesn't have a clue, as usual. But she's trying to help. Even Owen of all people is trying to help Tosh. Owen!
It would all be very comforting if it weren't so unnerving.
Still, it's better than being at each other's throats.
So maybe -- maybe I don't have to wait for the hurt to completely stop. I don't know if I believe that can happen anymore. Maybe, if Jack will be considerate enough, open enough, caring enough, maybe it will be all right if we hurt together instead of hurting separately.
Maybe.