Fic: To The Pain (15/41)
Title: To The Pain, Chapter 15
Rating: R
Warnings: None really, just don’t feel like changing the rating :)
Spoilers: Season One thru End of Days (1x13)
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to Russell T. Davies and the Mighty Beeb. Just goofin' around!
Summary: In which Ianto and Brendan hang out before heading to Bristol…
Notes: Happy Friday, everyone!! Sequel to Vizzini’s Rule; previous chapters of To The Pain can be found here. Thanks to my wonderful beta
thrace_adams for all the support - any mistakes are mine!
To The Pain: Chapter Fifteen
After the movie, which Ianto had to admit was quite enjoyable if not remotely historically accurate, Brendan drove them back towards Ianto’s flat. They still had a couple of hours before they were to meet the rest of the team so Ianto directed Brendan to the little market in his neighborhood where they picked up some supper, a few snacks and something for breakfast.
“First things first,” Ianto said as they walked into the shop. “I’m not facing tomorrow morning without coffee. Hell, I’m not facing tonight without coffee.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Brendan agreed. “Cup of coffee and a shower and I’ll be ready to go all night.”
Ianto bit back the flirty, suggestive response that was on the tip of his tongue. Had Jack uttered such a sentence, it would have snowballed into the best kind of verbal foreplay, but Ianto didn’t want to tease Brendan like that. He didn’t want Brendan to misinterpret a playful comeback as a serious come-on. Especially since I’m not so sure he’d be misinterpreting, Ianto thought ruefully. He ran a hand through his hair and cursed Jack for leaving one more time.
“Okay, so coffee’s this way and they have some good pastries over in the bakery. What do you want for dinner?” Ianto asked as he steered the cart through the store.
Brendan didn’t have any specific desires, so Ianto just gathered up his usual shopping items and they were back at his place in no time at all. Ianto put the groceries away and then set about making a fresh pot of coffee while he and Brendan chatted about nothing in particular. Ianto was constantly amazed at how easy he was to be around, how quickly they’d become friends.
Ianto had never connected to people easily. He always kept himself rather guarded, had since childhood. He had lots of acquaintances and he could get along with just about anyone, but people he considered friends were few and far between. He thought guiltily of Jamie and swore he’d call him back soon.
He poured two cups of coffee and offered one to Brendan. They settled on the sofa, each taking an end and propping their feet up on the coffee table.
“Mmm…” Brendan moaned as he took his first sip. “You make the best coffee.”
Ianto flushed a little, surprised at the rush of arousal that shot through him at the decadent noise from Brendan. “Thanks,” he said roughly and took a drink from his own mug.
They sat in comfortable silence as they drank their coffee. Ianto felt his eyelids start to droop as the stillness and the warmth from the coffee and the softness of the sofa all conspired to send him to sleep. He heard Brendan chuckle and then felt the cushions shift as Brendan moved towards him. Warm hands covered his for a moment and then he felt his mug being taken and heard the faint tap of it being set on the coffee table. He felt Brendan move over him again as the other man shifted his legs to the sofa and covered him with the throw from a nearby chair.
Brendan murmured something that Ianto didn’t quite understand. He nodded and made an agreeable sound, hoping more wasn’t required of him. He heard Brendan chuckle again and thought he felt a gentle hand stroke over his hair. Or maybe I imagined that, he considered sleepily. He decided he didn’t really care as he drifted off, feeling warm and cozy and happier than he’d been in a long time…
. . .
The dream started the same as it had the night before. Ianto was running down a long corridor. The walls and floor and ceiling were all metal, as if he were on a submarine. Jack was here, he could feel it in his bones. Jack was trapped here and he had to find him.
“Jack,” he called out quietly, remembering the soldiers from before.
He rounded a corner and found himself face to face with a large group of armed men dressed in black from head to toe. He didn’t have time to react before they were walking toward him… walking through him. He shuddered and the walls of the corridor seemed to buckle and sway. He closed his eyes and focused on Jack. When he opened them again, the walls were solid again and he was alone.
Ianto took a deep breath and followed along the hallway, searching for Jack. He stopped for a moment, convinced he’d heard something - someone laughing? He listened carefully and followed the sound. He rounded a corner and stopped short. Jack! His cry caught in his throat as he realized Jack wasn’t alone. He was chained, as Ianto had seen him before, stretched painfully between two large pipes. He was filthy and ragged, but his smile was so beautiful it almost broke Ianto’s heart. He whimpered as a man in a black suit with a gun shining in his grip stepped in front of Jack and raised the weapon.
“No!” Ianto yelled and tried to push through the wall of soldiers that separated him from Jack and the man in black, but he couldn’t move his arms or legs and the soldiers converged on him, pushing him down, falling on him, piling on top of him until he couldn’t breathe, they were crushing him as he called out to Jack, his last breath a gasp of horror as he heard the retort of the gun -
“Jack!”
“Ianto! Ianto, wake up!”
That’s not Jack, Ianto thought fuzzily. He tried to move but his arms and legs were trapped. He started to panic, struggling against his bonds.
“Here, let me -” Strong hands were on his body, pulling at him. He fought for a moment until he was suddenly able to move again. “You okay?”
“Brendan?” Ianto asked, still half asleep and very confused.
“Yeah, you were falling asleep so I covered you up.” Brendan tossed the blanket he’d just pulled off of Ianto to the end of the sofa and sat on the coffee table. “You okay?”
“I… I had a… a dream.” Ianto sat up and scrubbed his face with his hands.
“Bad one?”
Ianto shuddered. “Guess so, I can’t really remember it,” he lied.
“You were calling for Jack,” Brendan said carefully.
Ianto flushed as he glanced up for the first time and caught his breath. Brendan had apparently just gotten out of the shower. He was sitting inches away in nothing more than a towel, water still clinging to his chest and dripping from his hair onto his shoulders. Ianto swallowed hard.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to - I mean, that is I… what?” he finished helplessly, having completely lost his train of thought. He let his eyes wander over Brendan’s fit body, broad shoulders tapering down into toned abs and narrow hips. Brendan shifted a bit under the scrutiny and the towel wrapped around his waist slipped a little, revealing one long thigh. Ianto felt the flush in his cheeks spread, suffusing his entire body with heat. His mouth felt dry and he darted his tongue out to lick his lips. Brendan made a small noise in the back of his throat and leaned forward.
Ianto swayed towards Brendan, reaching out to steady himself. His hand fell on Brendan’s knee and the warmth of the bare flesh felt like fire under his palm. So warm, haven’t been warm since Jack left.
Ianto stood up suddenly. He banged his knee on the coffee table and hobbled away from the sofa and Brendan and temptation as quickly as he could.
“Ianto? You okay?” Brendan asked.
“Yeah, I just - leg cramp, need to stretch it, sorry.” He wasn’t actually lying. His muscles were cramped and sore, almost as if he’d been practicing telepathy instead of just napping. “If you’re done in the shower, I’ll just pop in there. Stretch it out, hot water, you know.”
Brendan stood up and anchored his towel more securely around his waist. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I’ll get dressed.”
“Good -” Ianto swallowed again. “Good idea,” he muttered as he banged the door to the bath closed. He leaned on the counter for a long minute, breathing hard, trying to get his body under control. He hadn’t been aroused like this for months. Not since… Jack. He cursed at himself and reached in to turn the water on in the shower. He undressed quickly and stepped under the still chilly water. Cold shower, classic remedy for… God, what am I doing?
Ianto grabbed the shampoo and started to scrub his hair. He almost moaned as he remembered the same scent on Brendan’s hair. Get a grip, Jones, he told himself firmly. You’re with Jack... who left you… Doesn’t matter! I’m in love with him… I think. Ianto groaned again and hurried through his ablutions, drying himself quickly and pulling on his dressing gown before leaving the bath. A quick glance told him Brendan was in the kitchen, probably putting together the dinner they’d bought. He shut the door to his room and sagged against it.
He wanted nothing more to curl up in bed and shut out everything - his feelings for Brendan, his anger at Jack, the hurt that seemed to grow harder to bear every day he was missing. But they had work to do and he had made a promise. He pushed off the door with a sigh and crossed the room.
Ianto stared at his dressing table for a long moment. Owen's laughter and Brendan's fond teasing about his suits were still fresh in his mind. He smiled and dug deep into one of his rarely used drawers hoping he still had... yes! These should shut them up, he thought as he shook out an ancient pair of jeans which were faded to a pale blue, more the texture of suede than denim. He dropped his dressing gown and pulled on the jeans, hoping they still fit.
Not bad, he thought as he buttoned the fly. They're actually looser than I remember. I really do need to eat more, I guess. He opened his closet to check out his reflection in the full length mirror on the door. The jeans hung a little lower on his hips than they had at Uni, but they were still snug in all the right places. There was a rip across one knee and a worn area on the opposite thigh that was almost white. He turned around and breathed a sigh of relief that the thin patch below his back pocket hadn’t turned into a hole just yet. If he wore his usual boxer briefs, the fabric would show through the threadbare denim, but since he was going commando nothing drew attention to the spot.
He opened another drawer. This one held his running attire and various t-shirts that were good for layering. He grabbed a long-sleeved black v-neck tee that had shrunk on its first washing, rendering it useless for everyday wear. He usually wore it underneath a sweatshirt and as he pulled it over his head he wondered if he could really wear it out on its own.
He tugged up the too-short sleeves until they were halfway to his elbow and then tried to tuck in the shirt. Unfortunately there was a good half-an-inch gap between the bottom of the shirt and the top of his jeans. He groaned and tried unsuccessfully to pull it down further. He finally gave up and reached for a wide black leather belt, hoping it would hold his jeans up enough to keep him covered. He dug in the back of his closet for a moment and came out with a pair of scuffed black Doc Martens to wear instead of his usual dress shoes. He decided to forgo his watch and snapped a plain, black leather strap around his wrist in its place. As he moved to close the drawer, a long black pencil caught his eye. He rolled it between his fingers for a moment, considering. He grinned and shrugged. In for penny, in for a pound, he thought as he lightly lined his lower lids with the Kohl. He smudged it expertly and then stepped back to view the complete effect.
“Ianto?” Brendan’s voice was accompanied by a knock on his bedroom door.
“Come on in,” Ianto called.
“I’ve got dinner - whoa.”
Ianto chuckled. “Rough enough for you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Brendan replied. He closed his mouth, which had been hanging open since he walked in the room. “Yeah,” he said again, this time drawing the word out as a slow smile spread across his face. “You’ll do.”
Ianto grinned.
TBC in Chapter Sixteen
Rating: R
Warnings: None really, just don’t feel like changing the rating :)
Spoilers: Season One thru End of Days (1x13)
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to Russell T. Davies and the Mighty Beeb. Just goofin' around!
Summary: In which Ianto and Brendan hang out before heading to Bristol…
Notes: Happy Friday, everyone!! Sequel to Vizzini’s Rule; previous chapters of To The Pain can be found here. Thanks to my wonderful beta
thrace_adams for all the support - any mistakes are mine!
To The Pain: Chapter Fifteen
After the movie, which Ianto had to admit was quite enjoyable if not remotely historically accurate, Brendan drove them back towards Ianto’s flat. They still had a couple of hours before they were to meet the rest of the team so Ianto directed Brendan to the little market in his neighborhood where they picked up some supper, a few snacks and something for breakfast.
“First things first,” Ianto said as they walked into the shop. “I’m not facing tomorrow morning without coffee. Hell, I’m not facing tonight without coffee.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Brendan agreed. “Cup of coffee and a shower and I’ll be ready to go all night.”
Ianto bit back the flirty, suggestive response that was on the tip of his tongue. Had Jack uttered such a sentence, it would have snowballed into the best kind of verbal foreplay, but Ianto didn’t want to tease Brendan like that. He didn’t want Brendan to misinterpret a playful comeback as a serious come-on. Especially since I’m not so sure he’d be misinterpreting, Ianto thought ruefully. He ran a hand through his hair and cursed Jack for leaving one more time.
“Okay, so coffee’s this way and they have some good pastries over in the bakery. What do you want for dinner?” Ianto asked as he steered the cart through the store.
Brendan didn’t have any specific desires, so Ianto just gathered up his usual shopping items and they were back at his place in no time at all. Ianto put the groceries away and then set about making a fresh pot of coffee while he and Brendan chatted about nothing in particular. Ianto was constantly amazed at how easy he was to be around, how quickly they’d become friends.
Ianto had never connected to people easily. He always kept himself rather guarded, had since childhood. He had lots of acquaintances and he could get along with just about anyone, but people he considered friends were few and far between. He thought guiltily of Jamie and swore he’d call him back soon.
He poured two cups of coffee and offered one to Brendan. They settled on the sofa, each taking an end and propping their feet up on the coffee table.
“Mmm…” Brendan moaned as he took his first sip. “You make the best coffee.”
Ianto flushed a little, surprised at the rush of arousal that shot through him at the decadent noise from Brendan. “Thanks,” he said roughly and took a drink from his own mug.
They sat in comfortable silence as they drank their coffee. Ianto felt his eyelids start to droop as the stillness and the warmth from the coffee and the softness of the sofa all conspired to send him to sleep. He heard Brendan chuckle and then felt the cushions shift as Brendan moved towards him. Warm hands covered his for a moment and then he felt his mug being taken and heard the faint tap of it being set on the coffee table. He felt Brendan move over him again as the other man shifted his legs to the sofa and covered him with the throw from a nearby chair.
Brendan murmured something that Ianto didn’t quite understand. He nodded and made an agreeable sound, hoping more wasn’t required of him. He heard Brendan chuckle again and thought he felt a gentle hand stroke over his hair. Or maybe I imagined that, he considered sleepily. He decided he didn’t really care as he drifted off, feeling warm and cozy and happier than he’d been in a long time…
. . .
The dream started the same as it had the night before. Ianto was running down a long corridor. The walls and floor and ceiling were all metal, as if he were on a submarine. Jack was here, he could feel it in his bones. Jack was trapped here and he had to find him.
“Jack,” he called out quietly, remembering the soldiers from before.
He rounded a corner and found himself face to face with a large group of armed men dressed in black from head to toe. He didn’t have time to react before they were walking toward him… walking through him. He shuddered and the walls of the corridor seemed to buckle and sway. He closed his eyes and focused on Jack. When he opened them again, the walls were solid again and he was alone.
Ianto took a deep breath and followed along the hallway, searching for Jack. He stopped for a moment, convinced he’d heard something - someone laughing? He listened carefully and followed the sound. He rounded a corner and stopped short. Jack! His cry caught in his throat as he realized Jack wasn’t alone. He was chained, as Ianto had seen him before, stretched painfully between two large pipes. He was filthy and ragged, but his smile was so beautiful it almost broke Ianto’s heart. He whimpered as a man in a black suit with a gun shining in his grip stepped in front of Jack and raised the weapon.
“No!” Ianto yelled and tried to push through the wall of soldiers that separated him from Jack and the man in black, but he couldn’t move his arms or legs and the soldiers converged on him, pushing him down, falling on him, piling on top of him until he couldn’t breathe, they were crushing him as he called out to Jack, his last breath a gasp of horror as he heard the retort of the gun -
“Jack!”
“Ianto! Ianto, wake up!”
That’s not Jack, Ianto thought fuzzily. He tried to move but his arms and legs were trapped. He started to panic, struggling against his bonds.
“Here, let me -” Strong hands were on his body, pulling at him. He fought for a moment until he was suddenly able to move again. “You okay?”
“Brendan?” Ianto asked, still half asleep and very confused.
“Yeah, you were falling asleep so I covered you up.” Brendan tossed the blanket he’d just pulled off of Ianto to the end of the sofa and sat on the coffee table. “You okay?”
“I… I had a… a dream.” Ianto sat up and scrubbed his face with his hands.
“Bad one?”
Ianto shuddered. “Guess so, I can’t really remember it,” he lied.
“You were calling for Jack,” Brendan said carefully.
Ianto flushed as he glanced up for the first time and caught his breath. Brendan had apparently just gotten out of the shower. He was sitting inches away in nothing more than a towel, water still clinging to his chest and dripping from his hair onto his shoulders. Ianto swallowed hard.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to - I mean, that is I… what?” he finished helplessly, having completely lost his train of thought. He let his eyes wander over Brendan’s fit body, broad shoulders tapering down into toned abs and narrow hips. Brendan shifted a bit under the scrutiny and the towel wrapped around his waist slipped a little, revealing one long thigh. Ianto felt the flush in his cheeks spread, suffusing his entire body with heat. His mouth felt dry and he darted his tongue out to lick his lips. Brendan made a small noise in the back of his throat and leaned forward.
Ianto swayed towards Brendan, reaching out to steady himself. His hand fell on Brendan’s knee and the warmth of the bare flesh felt like fire under his palm. So warm, haven’t been warm since Jack left.
Ianto stood up suddenly. He banged his knee on the coffee table and hobbled away from the sofa and Brendan and temptation as quickly as he could.
“Ianto? You okay?” Brendan asked.
“Yeah, I just - leg cramp, need to stretch it, sorry.” He wasn’t actually lying. His muscles were cramped and sore, almost as if he’d been practicing telepathy instead of just napping. “If you’re done in the shower, I’ll just pop in there. Stretch it out, hot water, you know.”
Brendan stood up and anchored his towel more securely around his waist. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I’ll get dressed.”
“Good -” Ianto swallowed again. “Good idea,” he muttered as he banged the door to the bath closed. He leaned on the counter for a long minute, breathing hard, trying to get his body under control. He hadn’t been aroused like this for months. Not since… Jack. He cursed at himself and reached in to turn the water on in the shower. He undressed quickly and stepped under the still chilly water. Cold shower, classic remedy for… God, what am I doing?
Ianto grabbed the shampoo and started to scrub his hair. He almost moaned as he remembered the same scent on Brendan’s hair. Get a grip, Jones, he told himself firmly. You’re with Jack... who left you… Doesn’t matter! I’m in love with him… I think. Ianto groaned again and hurried through his ablutions, drying himself quickly and pulling on his dressing gown before leaving the bath. A quick glance told him Brendan was in the kitchen, probably putting together the dinner they’d bought. He shut the door to his room and sagged against it.
He wanted nothing more to curl up in bed and shut out everything - his feelings for Brendan, his anger at Jack, the hurt that seemed to grow harder to bear every day he was missing. But they had work to do and he had made a promise. He pushed off the door with a sigh and crossed the room.
Ianto stared at his dressing table for a long moment. Owen's laughter and Brendan's fond teasing about his suits were still fresh in his mind. He smiled and dug deep into one of his rarely used drawers hoping he still had... yes! These should shut them up, he thought as he shook out an ancient pair of jeans which were faded to a pale blue, more the texture of suede than denim. He dropped his dressing gown and pulled on the jeans, hoping they still fit.
Not bad, he thought as he buttoned the fly. They're actually looser than I remember. I really do need to eat more, I guess. He opened his closet to check out his reflection in the full length mirror on the door. The jeans hung a little lower on his hips than they had at Uni, but they were still snug in all the right places. There was a rip across one knee and a worn area on the opposite thigh that was almost white. He turned around and breathed a sigh of relief that the thin patch below his back pocket hadn’t turned into a hole just yet. If he wore his usual boxer briefs, the fabric would show through the threadbare denim, but since he was going commando nothing drew attention to the spot.
He opened another drawer. This one held his running attire and various t-shirts that were good for layering. He grabbed a long-sleeved black v-neck tee that had shrunk on its first washing, rendering it useless for everyday wear. He usually wore it underneath a sweatshirt and as he pulled it over his head he wondered if he could really wear it out on its own.
He tugged up the too-short sleeves until they were halfway to his elbow and then tried to tuck in the shirt. Unfortunately there was a good half-an-inch gap between the bottom of the shirt and the top of his jeans. He groaned and tried unsuccessfully to pull it down further. He finally gave up and reached for a wide black leather belt, hoping it would hold his jeans up enough to keep him covered. He dug in the back of his closet for a moment and came out with a pair of scuffed black Doc Martens to wear instead of his usual dress shoes. He decided to forgo his watch and snapped a plain, black leather strap around his wrist in its place. As he moved to close the drawer, a long black pencil caught his eye. He rolled it between his fingers for a moment, considering. He grinned and shrugged. In for penny, in for a pound, he thought as he lightly lined his lower lids with the Kohl. He smudged it expertly and then stepped back to view the complete effect.
“Ianto?” Brendan’s voice was accompanied by a knock on his bedroom door.
“Come on in,” Ianto called.
“I’ve got dinner - whoa.”
Ianto chuckled. “Rough enough for you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Brendan replied. He closed his mouth, which had been hanging open since he walked in the room. “Yeah,” he said again, this time drawing the word out as a slow smile spread across his face. “You’ll do.”
Ianto grinned.
TBC in Chapter Sixteen