(no subject)
Title: Do I Dissapoint You? - part 4.
Characters: Ianto, Dylan (OC), Jack, Matthew (OC)
Rating: PG
Thanks go to vvaltmouse becuase I didn't know where to take this, without him I probably wouldn't have carried the fic on *many hugs for you * :)
Three hours later Dylan switched off his office light and left. The campus was quieter this time in the evening. It wasn’t yet late enough for many people to be heading to the bars, but lectures were over and most of the staff had left.
It wasn’t far from the campus to Ianto’s flat and as he walked down the busy streets he wondered about Jack, this seemingly mysterious, handsome boss of Torchwood. Ianto seemed to have a connection with Jack that he didn’t begin to understand. What he did know though was that Ianto needed Jack, the gradual deterioration of their relationship had been visibly noticeable to him in every aspect of his friends demeanour. The loss of weight, black rings under his eyes, and a shortness of temper even to his friend.
Maybe this would have started to change this evening, he hoped so. He cared for the other man more than anyone ever realised, more than he even did at times, they were more than brothers, closer than lovers; it was simply inexplicable.
He stopped in front of a familiar door and let himself in with the key he’d been given soon after Ianto moved in. Continuing up the brightly lit staircase, he stopped in front of a door and pressed the bell.
He listened for the soft pad of familiar footsteps, and the unlocking of the door.
“I thought it would be you,” a soft smile took the sting out of the words.
“He found you then,” Dylan’s voice a combination of concern and curiosity.
"Yes," Ianto looked away, leaving the other man to shut the door and follow him. "We talked for a while, he explained some things. I asked him to leave because I needed to think."
"Well," the blonde said slowly, thinking. "I want to go out. Let's go to the Club again. We've not been nearly enough recently." He grinned, white teeth flashing at Ianto, hazel eyes looking puppyish at his best friend.
"Why. . . , you know I can't refuse you when you look like that," he whined in reply.
"I know," Dylan giggled; he wandered off towards the bedroom to find some clothes. He’d always kept some here, and at times like this it proved very useful.
“Going to grab a shower,” he called.
“Allright, you win. I already showered, so I’ll go change.”
Dylan smiled to himself. Standing under the shower he sighed contentedly, wondering if his Dom from last week would be there.
Ianto mused over the events of the afternoon, as he searched through his wardrobe for the outfit he was going to wear to the club.
He and Jack had had a relatively short, but intense conversation. Jack had been surprised at what he knew, but he wondered what his boss expected of someone whose responsibilities included the archives; he had also spotted some relief in the older mans’ demeanour. Relief that there were some things he wouldn’t have to explain, and Ianto had made clear his strong feelings, how thoughts of Jack would invade everything he did, with an intensity that he’d never felt for anyone in the past.
Jack had told him about his worry and apprehension regarding the fact that he was, as far as he knew, immortal. Those he’d cared about aged and died and he was left behind again and again.
Ianto asked him one simple question; ‘was he worth it, was what they could have worth it.’ He had left Jack on his own at that point; he felt those intense eyes following him as he left the room, but he was determined not to look back. He’d played his hand; now it was up to Jack.
Jack had given him his answer. He was worth it, he had to admit that he was surprised, he had honestly not known what was going to happen.
Then Jack had left, said he needed to think. Which was why Ianto had agreed to Dylan’s suggestion of the club. He needed to relax and Ianto knew that Clarion was the one place he would be able to do that successfully and safely.
“Hey dreamer,” Dylan’s voice invaded his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.
Ianto turned to his friend, smiling.
“Was miles away,”
The two men, dressed with swiftness born of experience. Dylan picked up the collar he’d removed before he showered. It was an unusual one that he could also wear twisted round his wrist, a fine silver chain connected it at the back so that it would lie flat as a double wristband, and work as a collar as well.
He looked at it, and passed it to Ianto.
“Would you put it on for me,”
Ianto looked up, slightly startled by the request. Their collars were personal,, and although he’d put Dylan’s on a few times each of those times was symbolic of a change in their relationship. He wondered whether his friend had seen the chat with Jack as something that would significantly impact the unique connection between the two of them.
He smiled, and ran a fingertip softly over pale eyebrows.
“I will,” he said, recognising that there was an entire unspoken conversation going on between them. Reassurances that they were still, and would always be essential, and important to each other.
He put the collar around the slim pale neck, securing the fine silver chain. Then, he placed a soft kiss on Dylan’s forehead, put on his own collar and grabbed his jacket.
“Come on then cutie, let’s go,” he grinned.
“Hey, you’re the cutie,” the blonde giggled, “but ok, let the two cuties go hit the club.”
“Agreed,” he said, thoughtfully, but with a smile on his face.
The two men grabbed jackets and their wallets and phones and headed to the waiting taxi. They never noticed the looks of admiration from the passers-by on the street whose eyes were drawn to the two men, one small, very slender, blonde and almost girlish, the other taller, dark haired, slim, but more well built than the other. They’d never realised the looks they’d drawn, consequently surrounding themselves with an air of innocence and naivety.
It wasn’t long before they were walking into the club. People didn’t talk to Ianto, the air of thoughtfulness putting them off. He was still considering Jack, wondering what would happen next, and Dylan chatted to a couple of other members, as they made their way to the bar.
Soon they had their drinks and had sat down at a table.
“He here?” Ianto asked, as he watched his friend methodically scanning the crowd, he presumed for the Dom he’d played with the last time they were here.
“Not that I can see,” the blonde replied slowly.
They both sat back and let the contented atmosphere wash over them. Dylan took in his friends face, watching as the tightness around his eyes reduced and a small smile lingered on his lips.
His eyes flicked back to the people by the bar and the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” he asked Ianto, seductively.
“Such a tart Dylan Willliams,” Ianto laughed quietly. “I’d love to dance.”
Taking his friends larger hand in his own, he led Ianto to the dance floor. Wrapped in each others, eyes closed, they lost track of time, moving to the music.
Dylan felt a firm tap on his shoulder, turning his head he saw Matthew, Ianto Dom from their previous visit. He really did you quite startlingly like Jack he realised.
Matthew bent down and whispered in the smaller man’s ear.
“I’d like to cut in.”
Bigger than both of them, he wrapped his arms’ around them, allowing Dylan to slip out without Ianto noticing, he headed to the bar, to find a big strong Dom to take him under his wing for the remainder of the evening. The Dom bent his head and nipped sharply at Ianto’s ear.
A pair of pale blue grey eyes looked up at him.
“Matthew,” the welsh accent flowed. Ianto looked at the Dom and smiled, he snuggled deeper into the strong arms.
“I want to dance some more,” he said, quietly.
“That’s fine little one, I was just pleased to find you again,” cut glass vowels contrasted with Ianto’s welsh accent.
The music and contentment continued to flow.
Sometime later Matthew felt a hand on his shoulder; he looked up into a bright pair of eyes so like his own, hair artfully mussed and shining white teeth.
“He’s mine,” the American drawled, softly.
At that, Matthew realised that this was the man Ianto had been visualising in his place during their scene last week.
Matthew gave a sigh, and a small nod. The two men swapped positions as efficiently he had with Dylan earlier.
He put his mouth by the American’s ear and whispered.
“You take damned good care of him,” before he vanished into the crowd.
Ianto was floating in a sea of peace and calm, when he felt two firm hands placed either side of his face, and heard a familiar voice.
“Ianto, I had a chance to think. Took too long about it, but I’m here now. I want you for as long as I can have you.”
Ianto opened his eyes and looked at Jack, he smiled.
“That’s good to know Sir,” he replied, grinning.
Characters: Ianto, Dylan (OC), Jack, Matthew (OC)
Rating: PG
Thanks go to vvaltmouse becuase I didn't know where to take this, without him I probably wouldn't have carried the fic on *many hugs for you * :)
Three hours later Dylan switched off his office light and left. The campus was quieter this time in the evening. It wasn’t yet late enough for many people to be heading to the bars, but lectures were over and most of the staff had left.
It wasn’t far from the campus to Ianto’s flat and as he walked down the busy streets he wondered about Jack, this seemingly mysterious, handsome boss of Torchwood. Ianto seemed to have a connection with Jack that he didn’t begin to understand. What he did know though was that Ianto needed Jack, the gradual deterioration of their relationship had been visibly noticeable to him in every aspect of his friends demeanour. The loss of weight, black rings under his eyes, and a shortness of temper even to his friend.
Maybe this would have started to change this evening, he hoped so. He cared for the other man more than anyone ever realised, more than he even did at times, they were more than brothers, closer than lovers; it was simply inexplicable.
He stopped in front of a familiar door and let himself in with the key he’d been given soon after Ianto moved in. Continuing up the brightly lit staircase, he stopped in front of a door and pressed the bell.
He listened for the soft pad of familiar footsteps, and the unlocking of the door.
“I thought it would be you,” a soft smile took the sting out of the words.
“He found you then,” Dylan’s voice a combination of concern and curiosity.
"Yes," Ianto looked away, leaving the other man to shut the door and follow him. "We talked for a while, he explained some things. I asked him to leave because I needed to think."
"Well," the blonde said slowly, thinking. "I want to go out. Let's go to the Club again. We've not been nearly enough recently." He grinned, white teeth flashing at Ianto, hazel eyes looking puppyish at his best friend.
"Why. . . , you know I can't refuse you when you look like that," he whined in reply.
"I know," Dylan giggled; he wandered off towards the bedroom to find some clothes. He’d always kept some here, and at times like this it proved very useful.
“Going to grab a shower,” he called.
“Allright, you win. I already showered, so I’ll go change.”
Dylan smiled to himself. Standing under the shower he sighed contentedly, wondering if his Dom from last week would be there.
Ianto mused over the events of the afternoon, as he searched through his wardrobe for the outfit he was going to wear to the club.
He and Jack had had a relatively short, but intense conversation. Jack had been surprised at what he knew, but he wondered what his boss expected of someone whose responsibilities included the archives; he had also spotted some relief in the older mans’ demeanour. Relief that there were some things he wouldn’t have to explain, and Ianto had made clear his strong feelings, how thoughts of Jack would invade everything he did, with an intensity that he’d never felt for anyone in the past.
Jack had told him about his worry and apprehension regarding the fact that he was, as far as he knew, immortal. Those he’d cared about aged and died and he was left behind again and again.
Ianto asked him one simple question; ‘was he worth it, was what they could have worth it.’ He had left Jack on his own at that point; he felt those intense eyes following him as he left the room, but he was determined not to look back. He’d played his hand; now it was up to Jack.
Jack had given him his answer. He was worth it, he had to admit that he was surprised, he had honestly not known what was going to happen.
Then Jack had left, said he needed to think. Which was why Ianto had agreed to Dylan’s suggestion of the club. He needed to relax and Ianto knew that Clarion was the one place he would be able to do that successfully and safely.
“Hey dreamer,” Dylan’s voice invaded his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.
Ianto turned to his friend, smiling.
“Was miles away,”
The two men, dressed with swiftness born of experience. Dylan picked up the collar he’d removed before he showered. It was an unusual one that he could also wear twisted round his wrist, a fine silver chain connected it at the back so that it would lie flat as a double wristband, and work as a collar as well.
He looked at it, and passed it to Ianto.
“Would you put it on for me,”
Ianto looked up, slightly startled by the request. Their collars were personal,, and although he’d put Dylan’s on a few times each of those times was symbolic of a change in their relationship. He wondered whether his friend had seen the chat with Jack as something that would significantly impact the unique connection between the two of them.
He smiled, and ran a fingertip softly over pale eyebrows.
“I will,” he said, recognising that there was an entire unspoken conversation going on between them. Reassurances that they were still, and would always be essential, and important to each other.
He put the collar around the slim pale neck, securing the fine silver chain. Then, he placed a soft kiss on Dylan’s forehead, put on his own collar and grabbed his jacket.
“Come on then cutie, let’s go,” he grinned.
“Hey, you’re the cutie,” the blonde giggled, “but ok, let the two cuties go hit the club.”
“Agreed,” he said, thoughtfully, but with a smile on his face.
The two men grabbed jackets and their wallets and phones and headed to the waiting taxi. They never noticed the looks of admiration from the passers-by on the street whose eyes were drawn to the two men, one small, very slender, blonde and almost girlish, the other taller, dark haired, slim, but more well built than the other. They’d never realised the looks they’d drawn, consequently surrounding themselves with an air of innocence and naivety.
It wasn’t long before they were walking into the club. People didn’t talk to Ianto, the air of thoughtfulness putting them off. He was still considering Jack, wondering what would happen next, and Dylan chatted to a couple of other members, as they made their way to the bar.
Soon they had their drinks and had sat down at a table.
“He here?” Ianto asked, as he watched his friend methodically scanning the crowd, he presumed for the Dom he’d played with the last time they were here.
“Not that I can see,” the blonde replied slowly.
They both sat back and let the contented atmosphere wash over them. Dylan took in his friends face, watching as the tightness around his eyes reduced and a small smile lingered on his lips.
His eyes flicked back to the people by the bar and the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” he asked Ianto, seductively.
“Such a tart Dylan Willliams,” Ianto laughed quietly. “I’d love to dance.”
Taking his friends larger hand in his own, he led Ianto to the dance floor. Wrapped in each others, eyes closed, they lost track of time, moving to the music.
Dylan felt a firm tap on his shoulder, turning his head he saw Matthew, Ianto Dom from their previous visit. He really did you quite startlingly like Jack he realised.
Matthew bent down and whispered in the smaller man’s ear.
“I’d like to cut in.”
Bigger than both of them, he wrapped his arms’ around them, allowing Dylan to slip out without Ianto noticing, he headed to the bar, to find a big strong Dom to take him under his wing for the remainder of the evening. The Dom bent his head and nipped sharply at Ianto’s ear.
A pair of pale blue grey eyes looked up at him.
“Matthew,” the welsh accent flowed. Ianto looked at the Dom and smiled, he snuggled deeper into the strong arms.
“I want to dance some more,” he said, quietly.
“That’s fine little one, I was just pleased to find you again,” cut glass vowels contrasted with Ianto’s welsh accent.
The music and contentment continued to flow.
Sometime later Matthew felt a hand on his shoulder; he looked up into a bright pair of eyes so like his own, hair artfully mussed and shining white teeth.
“He’s mine,” the American drawled, softly.
At that, Matthew realised that this was the man Ianto had been visualising in his place during their scene last week.
Matthew gave a sigh, and a small nod. The two men swapped positions as efficiently he had with Dylan earlier.
He put his mouth by the American’s ear and whispered.
“You take damned good care of him,” before he vanished into the crowd.
Ianto was floating in a sea of peace and calm, when he felt two firm hands placed either side of his face, and heard a familiar voice.
“Ianto, I had a chance to think. Took too long about it, but I’m here now. I want you for as long as I can have you.”
Ianto opened his eyes and looked at Jack, he smiled.
“That’s good to know Sir,” he replied, grinning.