The Man Behind the Suit (2/2)
Title: The Man Behind the Suit (2/2)
Author: iantojjackh
Summary: Set a week after Countrycide, Jack finally has a long overdue talk with Ianto to clear the air
Rating: M - It's Jack and Ianto, what else is expected of them
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto
Total Word Count: ~6k
Warnings: Angst, past childhood trauma
Spoilers: Cyberwoman & Countrycide
Disclaimer: See profile
Notes: I reworked an older story of mine that was a bit rough and made it pretty. There are some bits added or made clearer than before. And now it's split into two parts.
The Man Behind the Suit
"Ianto! Ianto! Wake up," Jack held Ianto's wrists to stop them from flailing and from him hurting either of them. When calling out did not wake the sleeping Ianto, Jack started to shake him. First gently, and then harder until the Welshman finally snapped out of the violent slumber.
Ianto woke up with a start, his blue eyes darting around wildly, trying to figure out the unfamiliar surroundings. Sweat soaked him and the sheets as he gasped for air. Still unaware of where he was, Ianto felt the hands confining him and pushed back. "Get off me." His breathing was still out of control.
The nightmare was always the same: reliving the Battle of Canary Wharf. One of twenty-seven survivors out of eight hundred and twenty three people. The only sound he heard was a crash followed by some cursing. It took a minute for the disoriented man to gather his wits and realise what happened. It only made the sick feeling in his stomach worse. It was as if there was a series of knots from Ianto's stomach to the back of his throat. "Shit, Jack. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Ianto leapt forward to see how seriously he had injured Jack.
Jack groaned and held the back of his head which was sticky with blood and hurt worse than getting shot. He had hit one of the metal ladder rungs very hard and if he were a normal person Jack would have needed several stitches to close the wound. "I should be the one asking you that." Ignoring the pain and blood oozing from his head, Jack returned to the bed and tried to comfort Ianto.
"I'm fine," Ianto said gruffly. "I forgot where I was for a moment. That's all." Then he saw the blood on the wall and panicked. "How bad is it?" Ianto knelt behind Jack and examined the his head and saw the blood but no wound. Confused did not begin to explain it. It was just like the first time they met with the wound from the Weevil. "How is that possible?" Ianto picked Jack's hair apart, looking for any signs that his head had been split open and nothing could be found.
"I'm a fast healer," Jack knew what Ianto was trying to do and he was not going to have any of it. "About that nightmare..." Jack steered the conversation back onto Ianto's dream.
"I don't know what you mean." The stubborn side of Ianto put the walls back up, trying desperately to hide the truth. He had already divulged his most painful childhood memory, but he was not ready to recount the gruesome details of what exactly happened to him that horrible day in London. "Fast healing? Not buying it," Ianto replied, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"Stop changing the subject. You were flailing and screaming and you're drenched too. That says nightmare to me. Is this something that happens often?" Jack was very concerned and then noticed the slight tremor in Ianto's hands that he tried to hide. Jack covered Ianto's hands with his and pretended he did not see them shaking.
"I shouldn't have tried to hide it from you. The last couple nights I've been having dreams about that village. Evan and Helen cut me up and start to cook me in this huge cauldron. Then they fed me to you... to all of you." The story was dark creepy, made up on the fly, but he figured it would satisfy Jack's curiosity. The truth was much darker and maybe one day he would open up to Jack about it. Another secret he kept; a darker side to his personality created the day his mother walked out and one that had been allowed to flourish with all the horrendous events he had been a part of.
Jack frowned, knowing something like this would happen. Ianto was not used to going out in the field and he had been only seconds away from having his head cut off if Jack had not stopped them. Even the most season field agents would have nightmares after that. "Come here," Jack tried to comfort him.
"I should be going," Ianto headed toward the ladder. "There is quite a mess up there that needs cleaning."
"Not so fast," Jack enjoyed the view of Ianto's backside with that wild grin of his. "The view is much better without clothes." He grabbed Ianto's hips and pulled him off the ladder. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."
Ianto was taken aback by the comment. "I'm fine. What will the others think if they find out I stayed the night?"
Jack cocked his head, not seeing why it was anybody's business. "That you fell asleep in the archives again."
The Welshman rolled his blue eyes, "And what about the state of your office?"
"It's none of their business," Jack shrugged indifferently.
Ianto sighed heavily as he tried to extract himself from his boss' grasp, but the man's lips against his neck made all thoughts foggy. "You might not care, but I don't need to give the others more of a reason to hate me than they already do."
"They don't hate you, Ianto. They just need time. You haven't exactly made an effort with them either. You keep to the archives or visitor's center until meal time and then you don't eat with the rest of us anymore." Jack rested his chin on the other man's shoulder and ran his hands up and down the stressed Ianto's arms. "Everyone misses you."
Ianto snorted in disbelief, "Did you see the mess Owen left me to clean? And I think Gwen purposely spilled her lunch over her desk for me to clean. They are worse than small children throwing tantrums." Ianto's heart pounded as he felt himself slipping further under Jack's spell of fifty-first century pheromones. It felt nice to be wanted by and worried for by someone even if it was someone he had conflicting emotions about.
"Leave it for them to clean in the morning. If they complain I will tell them you were acting on my orders not to clean up after them. Maybe they will think twice about purposely making messes. I think I’ll make them clean topless in cold temperatures. It will be great character building."
"Sir, now that is harassment. Plus, I think Gwen will get the wrong idea. I cannot in good conscious leave the mess we made up there."
Jack smirked as Ianto's OCD tendencies rose to the surface. "If you clean it, it's only going to get messy again. Though the idea of watching you clean naked, maybe with one of those feather dusters. Oh, the things I can do to you."
The lecherous grin made Ianto groan and grow hard again. "You are a twisted man." This time there was no menace or hatred behind the words. "I should go home." The idea of leaving the hub a mess was gnawing at him, but with Jack around he knew the man would not let him clean. Though the idea having sex with Jack on Gwen's and Owen's desks and leaving a mess was oddly appealing.
"I'll join you." Jack did not care if there was an invitation hidden in Ianto's statement or not. He was inviting himself over.
Ianto just rolled his eyes, knowing Jack would do as he pleased. "But you are not making a mess of my flat or you will be the one cleaning naked with a feather duster and apron."
"I can't tell. Are you encouraging bad behaviour or not?"
"Oi," Ianto rolled his eyes and climbed the ladder, ignoring the cat calls from below. Now the small twinges of regret were seeping in as he was free from the effect of the pheromones or at least that was the excuse Ianto used to lessen the guilt gnawing at him. The fine line between love and hate had never been more blurred than it was at this moment.
"Great. Just great." Ianto picked up his clothes that were in no shape to be put on in their ripped state. How was he going to explain the damage to his tailor? The Welshman refused to go home naked. What would his neighbours think of their quiet, unassuming neighbour coming home in the middle of the night starkers? Not to mention trying to explain it to the police. Then again, it was easy to run down to the lockers to get a change of clothes, even if the only outfit he had there at the moment was the one that Ianto worked out in: a red zippered hoodie and black track suit bottoms. Why was going home naked even a thought that crossed his mind? The answer was simple: Jack Harkness and Ianto knew Jack would join in that game without hesitation. Ianto made it halfway across the main hub floor when the cog door began to roll back.
"Shit," Ianto tried to dive behind one of the desks before who ever was returning saw him and would have to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why he was streaking through the hub.
It rained in the hub and my clothes got wet. This is Torchwood after all.
I like to clean the hub naked. No.
My clothes are invisible. No.
Weevil guts got on my suit. Not quite.
Naked hide and seek with Jack. Might give him ideas.
Jack spanked me over his desk. Now I'm getting ideas.
"Ianto, are you okay down there?" Tosh turned a bright shade of red, seeing the naked man try to hide. This was behaviour she expected out of Jack or Owen, but not Ianto. She tried to avoid her eyes when Ianto stood up and everything came into full view, bit she could not look away.
"I...um...I can explain," Ianto stuttered, but was still in a state of shock to cover up.
"I...I...left my mobile," Tosh quickly swiped the small device from her desk. "Have a good evening, Ianto." The friends could not look at each other in the eye and the woman made a hasty retreat, the image forever burned in her mind.
Once the cog doors closed, Ianto glared at a laughing Jack who looked too amused by what had unfolded. "Oi, stop staring." Now he ran full speed to the lockers to put some clothes on.
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Ianto was surprised that Jack behaved on the drive to his place. There was a part of the Welshman that hoped the older would have tried to get frisky, but he had no such luck.
Ianto opened the door to his flat and let Jack in. "Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?" His face was still flushed from his encounter with Tosh.
"You look good in red," Jack flirted as he played with the zipper to Ianto's hoodie. "I could go for some coffee. I bet you keep the best stuff here."
"Very well. Just don't make a mess while I'm gone," Ianto teasingly warned before heading into the kitchen.
Once the delicious aroma of brewing coffee started waft in from the kitchen, Jack made himself comfortable on the couch. He looked around, taking in sparse decor. It was very bachelor pad looking, something he had not expected from Ianto. The only sort of decoration was a bronze picture frame with about ten people in the picture. "Torchwood outing?" Jack mused to himself. Everyone seemed so happy in the picture. It did not take long for him to pick Ianto and Lisa out, who both looked very happy. "Mickey?" Jack scrunched his forehead up in confusion as he noticed the man at the edge of the picture.
"Excuse me?" Ianto returned holding two mugs of steaming coffee. He paled when he saw the frame in Jack's hand. It wasn't as of the picture was hidden, but with the events of the evening looking at the picture made the guilt become renewed with a vengeance.
"I used to know Mickey. We traveled together for a while." Jack took one of the cups from Ianto and offered a flirty smile.
"His name wasn't Mickey. It was Samuel." Ianto growled and grabbed the frame hastily from Jack and placed it picture side down. "Just leave it be," the now angry man yelled, displacing his anger onto an innocent Jack.
"I'm sorry," Jack said sincerely. He had no intention of angering Ianto. Whatever warmth and good feelings there had been between the two earlier was long gone and it was colder than the coldest night on Antarctica.
Ianto knew he should not be mad, but he was and pretty mad at that. A deep scowl set on his face and Ianto sat in a chair far from Jack, pulling his knees to his chest. "I think you should leave after you are done." Ianto's voice cracked and his mug slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor. "This was wrong. All wrong. I'm just as bad as you now, aren't I? I fucked my boss because I wanted to feel needed. I'm a whore. God, what am I doing to my life?"
"Ianto?" Jack for once was at a loss for words.
Ianto either did not hear Jack or chose to ignore him before he continued his rant, "Is this what Torchwood does to people? Destroy them so they have no choice but to stay until it kills you? You killed my killed my girlfriend and yet I have these feelings for you. How fucked up am I? Why am I so bloody attracted to you? It disgusts me. It excites me. I can't make up my mind. I lied to you to give me this job. How can you not hate me? Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? I don't want to have these memories anymore. Make them go away, please." Ianto begged as tears streaked down his face.
"The painful screams, crying out for death's release. The smell of burning flesh. Climbing over dead bodies. I had to push several dead bodies off of me so I could get to Lisa. Why did I survive that? How did I survive that? I should have just stayed there and let the flames overtake me. They were so close I could feel the heat starting to burn my skin. Every time I close my eyes I'm back at Canary Wharf, trying to escape. Why didn't you shoot me when you had the gun pointed at my head? They should should have let them make me their next meal. Why did you have to save the day like you always do? There were so many chances for me to die. Why couldn't it just happen?" By the end, Ianto had tears streaming down his face which was bright red. "When will the pain stop?" Sobbing wracked his fragile body and soon Ianto began to hyperventilate. His chest felt like someone was squeezing and would not let go and with each gasp less air made its way to Ianto's lungs until everything began to spin and blacking out was imminent.
Jack did not realise Ianto had been in this much pain and he forgot that he was still only a kid at times. Everything the twenty-four year old had been through in the last eight months was more than most go through in a lifetime and as he learned earlier Ianto had a rough childhood too. It was as if the fates had it out for Ianto since birth, but Jack wanted to change that for him.
"The pain never really stops," Jack offered the truth. Most people would offer fake promises that it will eventually pass because in the long run lying would do more harm. "Ianto, look at me," he knelt in front of the hysterical man. "You need to calm down and get your breathing under control. Breathe like this." Jack demonstrated how Ianto should breathe like he was blowing out a candle.
Ianto looked at Jack like he was insane, but he followed the suggestion. Between Jack's encouragement and the breathing technique, Ianto eventually got his breathing under control. The exhausted man sighed and hid his face in his hands, embarrassed to have fallen apart in front of Jack of all people.
"Let me get that." Jack picked up the shattered mug. "Why don't you get into bed and I'll bring you some warm milk. You have milk, right?"
Ianto nodded, "You don't need to do this. I'll be fine." The whispered words betrayed the truth on his face.
"I don't think so." Jack countered. He doubted Ianto received any counselling after Canary Wharf, which was a big mistake. He should have seen it months ago, the second time they met when Ianto asked what he was supposed to do with the memories of the horrors he had seen, but he was too wrapped up in his disgust with One to think of toll it had on the survivors. "Just get into bed, okay. I can make that an order. I know I don't need to, but I want to help." Jack pressed his lips to Ianto's forehead.
Ianto was too exhausted to argue and deep down he was glad someone was finally offering a helping hand after all this time. "Thank you, Jack," he said with complete honesty and a weary smile.
"Anything for you, Ianto." Jack watched as the other man disappeared into the bedroom.
By the time Jack warmed up the milk and bought two mugs of the warm drink to the bedroom, Ianto was already fast asleep. A fond smile graced Jack's face as he watched the peaceful slumber. No matter what deception there was in the past there was no more anger to be felt toward the young Welshman. There was only warm feelings now. Jack returned the mugs to the kitchen, shut off the lights and stripped down to his pants and undershirt.
The immortal quietly climbed into bed and pulled the covers up around both of them. "I'll be here whenever you need me," Jack whispered, taking the sleeping Ianto into his arms. The grin grew on the Captain's face as Ianto instinctively snuggled in closer.
This became a ritual for the two. After everyone else left for the night, Jack and Ianto would head to Ianto's flat. Sometimes they would have dinner; take away or one of them cooking. Some nights they shagged to the sun came up, but every night they talked. Opening up to each other. It was great medicine for both their battered souls and it only deepened the bond they shared. The rest of the team was none the wiser about the relationship, even if Tosh almost caught the duo making out in the archives on several occasions. All they saw was Ianto finally opening up, becoming more social with the team and that his sarcasm beat out Owen's any day.
Then, Jack disappeared, and Ianto's life was shattered once more. He came back to life, kissed him in front of the team and then was gone. No note. No call. No explanation. Just pain and countless questions. As Ianto learned early in life; nothing good lasts forever and Jack Harkness was just another reminder of that lesson.
The End
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