Fic: The Oncoming Storm (Slash, AU, Janto 32/40 Act 2/3)
Author: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: period racial prejudice, strong language, mentions past non-con
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Combat", "Captain Jack Harkness""
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32 Act 1/3
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 32 "Captain Jack Harkness"
Act II
Ianto watched Jack watch the box like it was that damn jar. It sat inches from Jack's nose and if Ianto didn't know any better, Jack examined it warily like it was going to pounce. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or miffed that Jack would look at it with what almost looked like a mix of apprehension and fascination.
It was just a bloody box.
Ianto stood there with a tray of cooling coffee and wondered if he should speak up.
The night before, on Ianto's bed, Jack had slept curled against Ianto, his even breathing against his throat indicating that there weren't any nightmares.
For Jack, at least.
This time, it was Ianto who had lain awake, his heart hammering against his ribs. Jack's pained groans and mumbled protests had echoed in his ear each time he tried to touch Jack. They had evolved to sickening full color clips of that bastard on top of Jack. Hurting Jack. Taking something Jack was so willing to give. His damn imagination made his fingers quiver each time he reached out to Jack. He'd rather have Jack in him than take his captain and drown in the images of someone else doing the same without permission. With Jack fully sheathed in him, Ianto could at least pretend he was able to pull Jack in completely, away from those who would ever want to hurt him.
Except now, Jack was staring at his box like it was a disembodied hand.
"If I knew you were going to be so fascinated by geometric shapes …," Ianto announced when he couldn't stand it anymore. Jack started, his face guilty. He'd never even noticed Ianto standing inside his office for five minutes. Ianto nudged the door shut behind him with an elbow.
"I would have just given you the block set I bought for my cousin's baby instead." The coffee mugs rattled when he set the tray down harder than he intended. Ianto winced.
Jack smiled faintly and sat up. "It's been so busy with the Rift," Jack offered. It was a lame excuse and by the look in his eyes, they both knew it.
"It's not going to blow up," Ianto pointed out. He tried hard to hide the hurt in his voice. "I've grown out of the habit of making volatile presents ages ago."
Jack gave a nervous chuckle in return. "I'm afraid I'm a little intimidated by it," he admitted, a faint smile twisting his lips. "You did a really good job wrapping it."
Rolling his eyes, Ianto set out the coffees as he retorted, "It's just paper and tape, Jack. It's not alien technology."
"I don't know. That sticky tape really had it out with me when I tried."
Ianto hid a smirk behind his hand. "It would explain Tosh's gift."
"Oi!" Jack huffed before he reached over for his coffee. His pout disappeared completely behind the mug as he guzzled the beverage with the glee of an addict.
"Good Lord, slow down Harkness or you'll be the first man ever to drown in coffee!"
One final slurp, a wipe across his mouth with the back of his hand, and Jack looked up, interest piqued. "CPR?"
Ianto grunted. "I'll get Owen. He's the professional." He chuckled when Jack gagged.
"Don't do me any favors. Just let me die instead."
Ianto's smile faded.
Jack flinched. "Too early to joke?"
"It was never humorous to begin with," Ianto said in a stiff voice.
Jack grimaced in apology. He turned back towards his desk.
"Seriously, why won't you open it?" Ianto asked quietly as he set down his coffee.
"Would you believe I'm afraid to know what's inside?" Jack made an odd sort of laugh that Ianto didn't find funny. Ianto drank his coffee and studied Jack for a long moment.
"Would it make you feel better to know it's just some lewd trinket from the sex shop down the end of the Plass?"
Jack snorted. He then turned sharply to Ianto. "Is it?" Jack chuckled at Ianto's glower. "Okay, okay, and the answer is yes, I think it would have made this less…biblical."
Ianto wrinkled his nose. "I didn't splurge on anything that generous, Harkness. You don't pay me enough."
"If that's a hint for a pay raise, you're out of luck," Jack drawled.
"Points for trying." Ianto shrugged. He softened. "It's just a gift, Jack. No reason for it."
"Exactly." Jack stared at it glumly. Jack shrugged, or tried. "Rose used to do that a lot. God, she loved shopping. She used to give the Doctor and me things for no reason at all." He snorted. "I think it was just so she could have a reason to shop."
Ianto smiled sadly. "Sounds like she was nice."
Jack's eyes clouded over. "She was. I think she was the one who convinced the Doctor to come back for me the first time."
"The first time?"
"Sort of got myself stuck with a German bomb in my ship," Jack quipped. "I was sitting around having a hypervodka, the bomb counting down, when his police box shows up in my ship."
Somehow, it was easy to imagine Jack sitting in some futuristic ship, having a drink with a bomb. It seemed like the sort of thing Jack would do.
"I thought you don't drink," Ianto commented.
Jack craned his neck and looked up at him. "I don't," was his succinct answer. Jack didn't offer anything more. He picked up the box with three fingers and rotated it all around.
"I just wish-" Ianto stopped. He clamped his mouth shut.
Jack looked at him questioningly.
Ianto shrugged. He suddenly wished he had never said anything.
"You just wish what?" Jack's chair spun around to face him. "Ianto?"
His shoulders lifted then dropped again. "I just wish you at least wouldn't look at the box like that," Ianto mumbled.
Baffled, Jack's brow furrowed. "Like what?"
"Like…like…" Ianto waved towards the box, frustrated. "I would never hurt you, Jack!" he blurted out. "I-I mean, I know I already did with Lis-I would never deliberately…what I'm trying to say…" Bollocks. He didn't want to have this conversation. He never thought there would be a need.
Jack cocked his head. "Okay," he said slowly, trying to catch up. "Let's say, for argument's sake, I have no idea where this came from." Jack smiled gently up at Ianto. He reached over, his arms loosely around Ianto's middle and pulled him closer.
Ianto sighed. He felt both foolish and angry at the same time and he couldn't explain either. How could he explain to Jack the driving need in him to want to keep Jack safe, a mortal wanting to shelter an immortal. Christ, how mad is that? He bowed over Jack, his arms wrapped around Jack's head, suddenly feeling like the captain felt very small.
"What is it?" Jack muffled, sounding a little startled inside Ianto's hold. "Is it your gift? I-"
"Nightmares," Ianto was finding his head too full of things he wanted to say. It felt like the time to say it was shrinking far too fast to stop it. "I…there are these nightmares…"
The arms around him tightened in comfort.
"Tell me about them," Jack encouraged. He parted his legs, settling Ianto between them, in his arms. His hands rubbed Ianto's lower back. "Tell me about the nightmares, Ianto,"
He suddenly felt so old. How odd when the man he held was a century old and yet Ianto felt older. "I can't," Ianto sighed and Jack pressed closer reassuringly. "These nightmares…they're yours."
Jack stiffened.
Ianto held him tighter, refusing to let go. "I…you talk during these nightmares sometimes…"
Jack, rigid and still, said nothing. He suddenly felt like a caught animal in Ianto's embrace; any minute Jack could bolt.
Something screamed at him to shut up but Ianto took a deep breath and pushed on. "Jack, what he did…" The words swelled in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Ianto couldn't finish. Then, Jack didn't give him a chance. He shrugged off Ianto's arms.
"They were just nightmares, Ianto." Jack patted his hip, his hand lingering briefly before he swiveled around in his chair and rolled back under his desk. "Don't worry about them."
Ianto stared at Jack, at his hands busying themselves on paper Jack wasn't even looking at, wasn't even aware that some were upside down. Papers crinkled noisily.
"They're not just nightmares. Jack…he r-" God, he couldn't say it. It didn't sound like something a man would ever have to say to another; it didn't look like a word that belonged in Jack Harkness' vocabulary.
"He hurt you," Ianto ended up hissing.
The paper rustling stopped. Jack sighed, looked at the papers wrinkling in his hands and dropped them.
"It wasn't like that."
"You kept telling him to stop. You kept telling him you can't, that it hu-Christ, Jack. I don't understand how you can still be so loyal to him!"
Jack looked up when Ianto's voice rose. Jack gave the Hub beyond his office door a quick check before glancing back to Ianto. His eyes were dull, his mouth unsmiling.
"He wasn't always like that." Jack sat back on his seat, his face giving nothing away. "It…it wasn't always like that."
"Why won't you look at me when you say that then?"
Jack's eyes flew to his face then averted. "They're just nightmares, Ianto. The mind blows things out of proportion."
Ianto reached out a hand, but the ridged back warned him off. Ianto perched on the edge of the desk. He stared at the exposed wall and the rusty ladder bolted there that led to Jack's quarters.
"I'm not him," Ianto said quietly. "I would never…ever deliberately…" Ianto stared hard at the ladder. There was a bolt missing behind the third rung. Nothing crucial, everything else was in place, yet its rusting, torn hole mocked him.
"Just," Ianto closed his eyes and swallowed. "I'm not him, Jack. I promise, I'm not him."
Ianto felt Jack's hand curve around his right thigh. Jack was staring out past his desk, but he rubbed a slow circle into his leg.
"I know," Jack said, low.
Ianto's eyes flew open. He stared hard at Jack. "Do you?" Ianto hated how his voice cracked but it took everything he possessed not to shake Jack into his senses, not to go out there and dismantle that jar with his bare hands. "Do you trust me that I would never-" Ianto choked. Bloody coward, he thought to himself. Can't even say the words.
Ianto covered the hand on his thigh and gave the cool hand a squeeze. "Never," Ianto said hoarsely.
Jack nodded. He inhaled deeply into the ironed shirt as he buried his face in Ianto's torso, face pressed to his belly.
Ianto sniffed loudly. "Then please, please, stop looking at that box like it's his hand. It's just a gift. Nothing more. I just wanted to…"
"Okay, okay…" Jack soothed. He kissed the shirt over Ianto's ribs. His hand massaged slow circles on Ianto's thighs.
Ianto exhaled. He felt foolish, felt like a hysterical git, and his eyes were too hot and gritty to be fit for company. He lowered his head to briefly rest his chin on top of Jack's head.
They sat there; all the quiet blips and chirps of Torchwood bleeding away to a quiet duet of soft breathing in Jack's office. Ianto inhaled every scent that encompassed Jack, his hands settled lightly on Jack's shoulders. He could feel Jack's measured exhales against his stomach, warm even through his shirt. If it weren't for Jack's hands kneading his upper thighs, Ianto would have thought Jack had fallen asleep.
"Sorry," Ianto croaked. He felt Jack rub his jaw against him. "Didn't mean to…you know."
"It's okay," Jack muffled.
"I just…" There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wished Jack would say to him. Ianto sighed. He moved up his hands to cradle Jack's head. He took a steadying breath before pulling back and offering Jack a sheepish smirk.
Jack smiled in return but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Should I open it now?" Jack offered gently.
Ianto shrugged and tried to pretend it didn't matter. He averted his gaze towards the coat rack. "You waited this long," Ianto mumbled. He watched surreptitiously as Jack sat back in his leather chair, rolling it back against the radiator. He couldn't help but smile faintly when Jack ran a hand around the paper, his brow knitted.
"Would you like me to get Owen? You look like you're about to perform surgery on it."
"I can't find the seams," Jack huffed as he squinted. He brightened when he found one edge perfectly hidden along the corner of the cube. Jack shot him an exasperated look, to which Ianto responded with a weak snicker.
Ianto kept telling Jack it was just a gift, a frivolous thing, yet when the brown paper parted like a blossom to reveal the worn wooden box, Ianto began to sweat. Maybe it was too frivolous? It wasn't like buying something for Lisa, where a shiny bauble might have been impressive. He tried to imagine it like buying something for Bryce but Jack never dressed in a suit-although the idea held some appeal-and he never really went anywhere that wasn't Torchwood related. Ianto never recalled seeing even a DVD player anywhere in Jack's quarters.
Ianto gulped when Jack pulled out the antique oak box shaped like a miniature treasure chest. He turned it in his hands, inspecting the inlays of mahogany and ash.
"It's a snuff box," Ianto offered. "Um, from the early nineteenth century, Chinese." He bit back a smile. "It was owned once by a Captain of the British navy. They uh…once called him Captain Jack."
It made Jack smile, but the puzzlement was clear in Jack's eyes. "Snuff box?" he said doubtfully, still turning and admiring the craftsmanship. "But I don't smoke." Jack looked up guiltily. "I'm not saying I don't like it-"
Ianto nodded towards the box.
Jack shook it carefully, cautious because of its antique origins. He offered Ianto a raised eyebrow.
"Fossilized tobacco?" Jack drawled with a crooked smirk.
Ianto rolled his eyes. "Hardly." His smile faded a little when Jack gingerly pulled the top off and paused.
"Buttons." Jack sounded a little strange.
Ianto swallowed. "I uh…you were always losing buttons for that coat and…well, thought you might do well with some spares." Ianto started to reach for it when Jack poked through the modest contents with a finger. "It was just a silly idea. I mean-"
"These are the exact same ones." Jack sounded, looked, a little awed. "How did…" He swiveled towards Ianto, his eyes widened. He looked back down at the box cupped in his hands.
Something uncoiled in Ianto’s gut and there was a warm glow infused throughout his body as he watched Jack sort through the hand-carved wooden and polished metal buttons.
"There were some places," Ianto murmured. "I just made a few calls." A few calls to vintage shops, estates, museums and even to Tosh's favorite site, Ebay. He might not go back to Ebay, however, as they seem to charge him an exorbitant amount to ship a few buttons.
Jack spilled a few into his palm and touched each one with his pointer finger. He looked up at Ianto and offered him a sheepish grin.
"I guess I'm a little attached to that coat."
Ianto lifted one shoulder. "Really? I haven't noticed."
There was a little impolite snort in response.
"I uh…assumed there was some significance to it," Ianto offered.
Jack gestured towards it with what looked like embarrassment.
"The Doctor?" Ianto guessed right when Jack's head shot up. Ianto gave his shoulders a modest lift. "You said the Doctor came back in 1941. It fits the period."
Jack gave a strained laugh. "Actually, that was the second time around." When Ianto arched an eyebrow, Jack nodded towards his coat. "First time I met Rose and the Doctor, it was that year, too."
Ianto's stomach churned. "You wanted to remember them somehow."
Jack shrugged again. He poked through the buttons on his palm.
"I can't believe you found…I looked everywhere." Jack still looked a little stunned when he tilted his face up at him.
Ianto scratched his jaw with a small smile. "They're just buttons." The coats were unsalvageable except as scraps for repairs.
After a minute, Jack set down the box with reverence in the center of his desk. He stood in front of Ianto, his hands resting on Ianto's forearms. His eyes were dark and Ianto could see himself in them. He sat there on the desk, pinned under Jack's gaze.
"Thank you." Jack's earnest face was inches from his.
Ianto, relieved, smiled back. "You're welc-Oh."
Jack pulled Ianto to his chest, his breath moist and heady on Ianto's face before Ianto's mouth was engulfed. Jack's hands snaked around to his rear, slipping between the curve of his buttocks and the desk, lifting Ianto just enough so Jack could squeeze-Christ-and press him higher and closer to the solid feel of Jack's body-a wall of life bracing, tasting, devouring him. Ianto fumbled, he'd forgotten what his hands were for, until he could slap his hands over that pert, round arse he coveted. Jack made a muffled squeak into Ianto's mouth when Ianto ground his groin against Jack, his hands on the captain's rear, bringing him closer.
Papers fell to the side-Jack mumbled they weren't important-a mug shattered-Jack said it wasn't his favorite-and Ianto yanked Jack to him and they both fell onto the desk.
Fingers through hair, a hand gripping-oh God, yes, right there-mouths battling, Ianto was dizzy trying to keep track of his hands and Jack's. Jack arched his head back, offering his throat and Ianto groaned at the pale skin, the cords and tendons of a vulnerable pulse displayed to him. Ianto dove to it, suckling on the pulse until Jack moaned.
A clang outside, hollow metal on tile, registered through the fuzzy haze and the two parted with a gasp.
Ianto, bent awkwardly over the desk, had his hands on Jack's front, his fingers twisted around both braces because he was seconds from yanking them down and-
"Well…" Ianto stammered; wheezed really, because Jack's body was still on top of him. The captain's face was flushed, his hair in a messy disarray that Ianto couldn't help comb back into place with his fingers. Ianto let Jack pull him up and sat there as Jack fixed his tie back into some order. Ianto was sure he looked as thoroughly debauched as Jack. "I take it you like the gift?"
Jack leaned into Ianto's throat, kissed him just above his collarbone and nodded.
"You're welcome," Ianto murmured, his throat tight. He wasn't sure if he was glad or not.
Act III
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: period racial prejudice, strong language, mentions past non-con
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Combat", "Captain Jack Harkness""
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32 Act 1/3
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 32 "Captain Jack Harkness"
Act II
Ianto watched Jack watch the box like it was that damn jar. It sat inches from Jack's nose and if Ianto didn't know any better, Jack examined it warily like it was going to pounce. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or miffed that Jack would look at it with what almost looked like a mix of apprehension and fascination.
It was just a bloody box.
Ianto stood there with a tray of cooling coffee and wondered if he should speak up.
The night before, on Ianto's bed, Jack had slept curled against Ianto, his even breathing against his throat indicating that there weren't any nightmares.
For Jack, at least.
This time, it was Ianto who had lain awake, his heart hammering against his ribs. Jack's pained groans and mumbled protests had echoed in his ear each time he tried to touch Jack. They had evolved to sickening full color clips of that bastard on top of Jack. Hurting Jack. Taking something Jack was so willing to give. His damn imagination made his fingers quiver each time he reached out to Jack. He'd rather have Jack in him than take his captain and drown in the images of someone else doing the same without permission. With Jack fully sheathed in him, Ianto could at least pretend he was able to pull Jack in completely, away from those who would ever want to hurt him.
Except now, Jack was staring at his box like it was a disembodied hand.
"If I knew you were going to be so fascinated by geometric shapes …," Ianto announced when he couldn't stand it anymore. Jack started, his face guilty. He'd never even noticed Ianto standing inside his office for five minutes. Ianto nudged the door shut behind him with an elbow.
"I would have just given you the block set I bought for my cousin's baby instead." The coffee mugs rattled when he set the tray down harder than he intended. Ianto winced.
Jack smiled faintly and sat up. "It's been so busy with the Rift," Jack offered. It was a lame excuse and by the look in his eyes, they both knew it.
"It's not going to blow up," Ianto pointed out. He tried hard to hide the hurt in his voice. "I've grown out of the habit of making volatile presents ages ago."
Jack gave a nervous chuckle in return. "I'm afraid I'm a little intimidated by it," he admitted, a faint smile twisting his lips. "You did a really good job wrapping it."
Rolling his eyes, Ianto set out the coffees as he retorted, "It's just paper and tape, Jack. It's not alien technology."
"I don't know. That sticky tape really had it out with me when I tried."
Ianto hid a smirk behind his hand. "It would explain Tosh's gift."
"Oi!" Jack huffed before he reached over for his coffee. His pout disappeared completely behind the mug as he guzzled the beverage with the glee of an addict.
"Good Lord, slow down Harkness or you'll be the first man ever to drown in coffee!"
One final slurp, a wipe across his mouth with the back of his hand, and Jack looked up, interest piqued. "CPR?"
Ianto grunted. "I'll get Owen. He's the professional." He chuckled when Jack gagged.
"Don't do me any favors. Just let me die instead."
Ianto's smile faded.
Jack flinched. "Too early to joke?"
"It was never humorous to begin with," Ianto said in a stiff voice.
Jack grimaced in apology. He turned back towards his desk.
"Seriously, why won't you open it?" Ianto asked quietly as he set down his coffee.
"Would you believe I'm afraid to know what's inside?" Jack made an odd sort of laugh that Ianto didn't find funny. Ianto drank his coffee and studied Jack for a long moment.
"Would it make you feel better to know it's just some lewd trinket from the sex shop down the end of the Plass?"
Jack snorted. He then turned sharply to Ianto. "Is it?" Jack chuckled at Ianto's glower. "Okay, okay, and the answer is yes, I think it would have made this less…biblical."
Ianto wrinkled his nose. "I didn't splurge on anything that generous, Harkness. You don't pay me enough."
"If that's a hint for a pay raise, you're out of luck," Jack drawled.
"Points for trying." Ianto shrugged. He softened. "It's just a gift, Jack. No reason for it."
"Exactly." Jack stared at it glumly. Jack shrugged, or tried. "Rose used to do that a lot. God, she loved shopping. She used to give the Doctor and me things for no reason at all." He snorted. "I think it was just so she could have a reason to shop."
Ianto smiled sadly. "Sounds like she was nice."
Jack's eyes clouded over. "She was. I think she was the one who convinced the Doctor to come back for me the first time."
"The first time?"
"Sort of got myself stuck with a German bomb in my ship," Jack quipped. "I was sitting around having a hypervodka, the bomb counting down, when his police box shows up in my ship."
Somehow, it was easy to imagine Jack sitting in some futuristic ship, having a drink with a bomb. It seemed like the sort of thing Jack would do.
"I thought you don't drink," Ianto commented.
Jack craned his neck and looked up at him. "I don't," was his succinct answer. Jack didn't offer anything more. He picked up the box with three fingers and rotated it all around.
"I just wish-" Ianto stopped. He clamped his mouth shut.
Jack looked at him questioningly.
Ianto shrugged. He suddenly wished he had never said anything.
"You just wish what?" Jack's chair spun around to face him. "Ianto?"
His shoulders lifted then dropped again. "I just wish you at least wouldn't look at the box like that," Ianto mumbled.
Baffled, Jack's brow furrowed. "Like what?"
"Like…like…" Ianto waved towards the box, frustrated. "I would never hurt you, Jack!" he blurted out. "I-I mean, I know I already did with Lis-I would never deliberately…what I'm trying to say…" Bollocks. He didn't want to have this conversation. He never thought there would be a need.
Jack cocked his head. "Okay," he said slowly, trying to catch up. "Let's say, for argument's sake, I have no idea where this came from." Jack smiled gently up at Ianto. He reached over, his arms loosely around Ianto's middle and pulled him closer.
Ianto sighed. He felt both foolish and angry at the same time and he couldn't explain either. How could he explain to Jack the driving need in him to want to keep Jack safe, a mortal wanting to shelter an immortal. Christ, how mad is that? He bowed over Jack, his arms wrapped around Jack's head, suddenly feeling like the captain felt very small.
"What is it?" Jack muffled, sounding a little startled inside Ianto's hold. "Is it your gift? I-"
"Nightmares," Ianto was finding his head too full of things he wanted to say. It felt like the time to say it was shrinking far too fast to stop it. "I…there are these nightmares…"
The arms around him tightened in comfort.
"Tell me about them," Jack encouraged. He parted his legs, settling Ianto between them, in his arms. His hands rubbed Ianto's lower back. "Tell me about the nightmares, Ianto,"
He suddenly felt so old. How odd when the man he held was a century old and yet Ianto felt older. "I can't," Ianto sighed and Jack pressed closer reassuringly. "These nightmares…they're yours."
Jack stiffened.
Ianto held him tighter, refusing to let go. "I…you talk during these nightmares sometimes…"
Jack, rigid and still, said nothing. He suddenly felt like a caught animal in Ianto's embrace; any minute Jack could bolt.
Something screamed at him to shut up but Ianto took a deep breath and pushed on. "Jack, what he did…" The words swelled in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Ianto couldn't finish. Then, Jack didn't give him a chance. He shrugged off Ianto's arms.
"They were just nightmares, Ianto." Jack patted his hip, his hand lingering briefly before he swiveled around in his chair and rolled back under his desk. "Don't worry about them."
Ianto stared at Jack, at his hands busying themselves on paper Jack wasn't even looking at, wasn't even aware that some were upside down. Papers crinkled noisily.
"They're not just nightmares. Jack…he r-" God, he couldn't say it. It didn't sound like something a man would ever have to say to another; it didn't look like a word that belonged in Jack Harkness' vocabulary.
"He hurt you," Ianto ended up hissing.
The paper rustling stopped. Jack sighed, looked at the papers wrinkling in his hands and dropped them.
"It wasn't like that."
"You kept telling him to stop. You kept telling him you can't, that it hu-Christ, Jack. I don't understand how you can still be so loyal to him!"
Jack looked up when Ianto's voice rose. Jack gave the Hub beyond his office door a quick check before glancing back to Ianto. His eyes were dull, his mouth unsmiling.
"He wasn't always like that." Jack sat back on his seat, his face giving nothing away. "It…it wasn't always like that."
"Why won't you look at me when you say that then?"
Jack's eyes flew to his face then averted. "They're just nightmares, Ianto. The mind blows things out of proportion."
Ianto reached out a hand, but the ridged back warned him off. Ianto perched on the edge of the desk. He stared at the exposed wall and the rusty ladder bolted there that led to Jack's quarters.
"I'm not him," Ianto said quietly. "I would never…ever deliberately…" Ianto stared hard at the ladder. There was a bolt missing behind the third rung. Nothing crucial, everything else was in place, yet its rusting, torn hole mocked him.
"Just," Ianto closed his eyes and swallowed. "I'm not him, Jack. I promise, I'm not him."
Ianto felt Jack's hand curve around his right thigh. Jack was staring out past his desk, but he rubbed a slow circle into his leg.
"I know," Jack said, low.
Ianto's eyes flew open. He stared hard at Jack. "Do you?" Ianto hated how his voice cracked but it took everything he possessed not to shake Jack into his senses, not to go out there and dismantle that jar with his bare hands. "Do you trust me that I would never-" Ianto choked. Bloody coward, he thought to himself. Can't even say the words.
Ianto covered the hand on his thigh and gave the cool hand a squeeze. "Never," Ianto said hoarsely.
Jack nodded. He inhaled deeply into the ironed shirt as he buried his face in Ianto's torso, face pressed to his belly.
Ianto sniffed loudly. "Then please, please, stop looking at that box like it's his hand. It's just a gift. Nothing more. I just wanted to…"
"Okay, okay…" Jack soothed. He kissed the shirt over Ianto's ribs. His hand massaged slow circles on Ianto's thighs.
Ianto exhaled. He felt foolish, felt like a hysterical git, and his eyes were too hot and gritty to be fit for company. He lowered his head to briefly rest his chin on top of Jack's head.
They sat there; all the quiet blips and chirps of Torchwood bleeding away to a quiet duet of soft breathing in Jack's office. Ianto inhaled every scent that encompassed Jack, his hands settled lightly on Jack's shoulders. He could feel Jack's measured exhales against his stomach, warm even through his shirt. If it weren't for Jack's hands kneading his upper thighs, Ianto would have thought Jack had fallen asleep.
"Sorry," Ianto croaked. He felt Jack rub his jaw against him. "Didn't mean to…you know."
"It's okay," Jack muffled.
"I just…" There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wished Jack would say to him. Ianto sighed. He moved up his hands to cradle Jack's head. He took a steadying breath before pulling back and offering Jack a sheepish smirk.
Jack smiled in return but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Should I open it now?" Jack offered gently.
Ianto shrugged and tried to pretend it didn't matter. He averted his gaze towards the coat rack. "You waited this long," Ianto mumbled. He watched surreptitiously as Jack sat back in his leather chair, rolling it back against the radiator. He couldn't help but smile faintly when Jack ran a hand around the paper, his brow knitted.
"Would you like me to get Owen? You look like you're about to perform surgery on it."
"I can't find the seams," Jack huffed as he squinted. He brightened when he found one edge perfectly hidden along the corner of the cube. Jack shot him an exasperated look, to which Ianto responded with a weak snicker.
Ianto kept telling Jack it was just a gift, a frivolous thing, yet when the brown paper parted like a blossom to reveal the worn wooden box, Ianto began to sweat. Maybe it was too frivolous? It wasn't like buying something for Lisa, where a shiny bauble might have been impressive. He tried to imagine it like buying something for Bryce but Jack never dressed in a suit-although the idea held some appeal-and he never really went anywhere that wasn't Torchwood related. Ianto never recalled seeing even a DVD player anywhere in Jack's quarters.
Ianto gulped when Jack pulled out the antique oak box shaped like a miniature treasure chest. He turned it in his hands, inspecting the inlays of mahogany and ash.
"It's a snuff box," Ianto offered. "Um, from the early nineteenth century, Chinese." He bit back a smile. "It was owned once by a Captain of the British navy. They uh…once called him Captain Jack."
It made Jack smile, but the puzzlement was clear in Jack's eyes. "Snuff box?" he said doubtfully, still turning and admiring the craftsmanship. "But I don't smoke." Jack looked up guiltily. "I'm not saying I don't like it-"
Ianto nodded towards the box.
Jack shook it carefully, cautious because of its antique origins. He offered Ianto a raised eyebrow.
"Fossilized tobacco?" Jack drawled with a crooked smirk.
Ianto rolled his eyes. "Hardly." His smile faded a little when Jack gingerly pulled the top off and paused.
"Buttons." Jack sounded a little strange.
Ianto swallowed. "I uh…you were always losing buttons for that coat and…well, thought you might do well with some spares." Ianto started to reach for it when Jack poked through the modest contents with a finger. "It was just a silly idea. I mean-"
"These are the exact same ones." Jack sounded, looked, a little awed. "How did…" He swiveled towards Ianto, his eyes widened. He looked back down at the box cupped in his hands.
Something uncoiled in Ianto’s gut and there was a warm glow infused throughout his body as he watched Jack sort through the hand-carved wooden and polished metal buttons.
"There were some places," Ianto murmured. "I just made a few calls." A few calls to vintage shops, estates, museums and even to Tosh's favorite site, Ebay. He might not go back to Ebay, however, as they seem to charge him an exorbitant amount to ship a few buttons.
Jack spilled a few into his palm and touched each one with his pointer finger. He looked up at Ianto and offered him a sheepish grin.
"I guess I'm a little attached to that coat."
Ianto lifted one shoulder. "Really? I haven't noticed."
There was a little impolite snort in response.
"I uh…assumed there was some significance to it," Ianto offered.
Jack gestured towards it with what looked like embarrassment.
"The Doctor?" Ianto guessed right when Jack's head shot up. Ianto gave his shoulders a modest lift. "You said the Doctor came back in 1941. It fits the period."
Jack gave a strained laugh. "Actually, that was the second time around." When Ianto arched an eyebrow, Jack nodded towards his coat. "First time I met Rose and the Doctor, it was that year, too."
Ianto's stomach churned. "You wanted to remember them somehow."
Jack shrugged again. He poked through the buttons on his palm.
"I can't believe you found…I looked everywhere." Jack still looked a little stunned when he tilted his face up at him.
Ianto scratched his jaw with a small smile. "They're just buttons." The coats were unsalvageable except as scraps for repairs.
After a minute, Jack set down the box with reverence in the center of his desk. He stood in front of Ianto, his hands resting on Ianto's forearms. His eyes were dark and Ianto could see himself in them. He sat there on the desk, pinned under Jack's gaze.
"Thank you." Jack's earnest face was inches from his.
Ianto, relieved, smiled back. "You're welc-Oh."
Jack pulled Ianto to his chest, his breath moist and heady on Ianto's face before Ianto's mouth was engulfed. Jack's hands snaked around to his rear, slipping between the curve of his buttocks and the desk, lifting Ianto just enough so Jack could squeeze-Christ-and press him higher and closer to the solid feel of Jack's body-a wall of life bracing, tasting, devouring him. Ianto fumbled, he'd forgotten what his hands were for, until he could slap his hands over that pert, round arse he coveted. Jack made a muffled squeak into Ianto's mouth when Ianto ground his groin against Jack, his hands on the captain's rear, bringing him closer.
Papers fell to the side-Jack mumbled they weren't important-a mug shattered-Jack said it wasn't his favorite-and Ianto yanked Jack to him and they both fell onto the desk.
Fingers through hair, a hand gripping-oh God, yes, right there-mouths battling, Ianto was dizzy trying to keep track of his hands and Jack's. Jack arched his head back, offering his throat and Ianto groaned at the pale skin, the cords and tendons of a vulnerable pulse displayed to him. Ianto dove to it, suckling on the pulse until Jack moaned.
A clang outside, hollow metal on tile, registered through the fuzzy haze and the two parted with a gasp.
Ianto, bent awkwardly over the desk, had his hands on Jack's front, his fingers twisted around both braces because he was seconds from yanking them down and-
"Well…" Ianto stammered; wheezed really, because Jack's body was still on top of him. The captain's face was flushed, his hair in a messy disarray that Ianto couldn't help comb back into place with his fingers. Ianto let Jack pull him up and sat there as Jack fixed his tie back into some order. Ianto was sure he looked as thoroughly debauched as Jack. "I take it you like the gift?"
Jack leaned into Ianto's throat, kissed him just above his collarbone and nodded.
"You're welcome," Ianto murmured, his throat tight. He wasn't sure if he was glad or not.
Act III
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.