Every You, Every Me - 4/? - Lying My Way From You
Title: Every You, Every Me - 4/?
Rating: 15 ish.
Characters: Ianto, Owen, Jack
Pairings: Ianto/Owen, Jack/Ianto
Series: Chapter four of “Lying My Way From You”.
Spoilers: If you’ve seen series one of Torchwood you’ll be fine.
Summary: What happens when you love someone for all the wrong reasons? Ianto Jones fears that is what he is doing, and even worse, he just seems to be slipping farther in love with Owen Harper at the same time….
Disclaimer: Regrettably I own nothing, none of the characters, zip. Wish I did though.
Author’s Notes: Right then, I actually have something to really add into here. It’s not a warning as such, but in this fic you will find a slightly different from canon look at Jack/Ianto, so you have been warned. I adore Jack/Ianto, but since I also adore the idea of exploring different dynamics of it, and so as this is not a Janto centred story I thought I would have a go at something a bit different. Anyway, as usual my ownto writing’s would not be posted without the brilliant help of my ownto beta thehubsitter , who I swear maintains my sanity when I’m writing! And by now, you know how much I adore your comments so much. I just hope you enjoy this. :)
Chapter One: It's Beginning To Get To Me
Chapter Two: Oblivious
Chapter Three: The Edge's Start To Blur
Dedicated to my completely awesome ownto girls. To thehubsitter for keeping my ownto muses alive, for being just a bit fabulous and rolling her eyes when I write at 4am. To naddypants for being a true writing buddy, and building my confidence with her thoughts! Thank you so much girls. :)
Ianto Jones was becoming tired of waking up alone.
He’d woken up gently, his mind slowly dragging itself from unconsciousness and bringing his thoughts back into reality. For those brief first few moments he had felt warm, comforted, his body still lavishing the attention it had received from Owen only hours before. His thoughts didn’t move any further back in time from that, they merely dwelled on, happy to sit and relish in the pure emotion that Owen seemed to bring out of him. He didn’t know what it was about loving the medic that felt satisfying, whether it was the challenge of it all, or the intense exhilaration he felt as they kissed. It was all just so new, so fresh, their minds completely lost to each other every time that they even touched. Ianto was convinced he had never felt anything like it since….well, for a long time.
The feeling he had had when he woke up was like no other. He was convinced that he had only slept a few hours and yet as he first became aware of his surroundings, Ianto felt comforted by the feeling of Owen still lying in his arms. After all, he was the one Ianto wanted to wake up to, the man who he wanted to see the second he opened his eyes. But in this case, Ianto did not. As when he did finally open his eyes, he simply found a pillow clasped tightly to his body and Owen nowhere to be found.
No note, nothing. Just a bitter silence that enveloped his world and shed very little light on the past events of that afternoon. Ianto sighed, sitting upright and running his hands through his hair. He didn’t need answers, not from Owen anyway. What he really needed was answers from himself. And that was the concept he was struggling with.
Shaking his head, Ianto stood up, pulling on a pair of clean boxers and heading into the lounge. He glanced at the clock, quickly calculating that he had managed to sleep for an hour and half, and that right about now back at the Hub Jack would be getting coffee cravings. In his mind he weighed up whether or not he should go back, put on a smile and pretend that suddenly he felt fine after some rest. But Ianto quickly decided against this. After all, Owen was back at the Hub too, and seeing him would stir all the emotions he was currently hiding from back up to the surface again.
Buzzing into life beside him, Ianto’s phone quickly announced that he had received a voicemail whilst he had been sleeping. He picked it up quickly, dialling the number and hoping against hope that he might hear Owen’s voice when he did so. It was perverse, Owen was the last person he wanted to hear from right then, but at the same time he was the only person who seemed to matter in Ianto’s world. And with this same thought, Ianto couldn’t hide the disappointment in his features when he heard Jack’s familiar tone instead.
“Yan? Owen told me you just needed some rest, so if we need you at the Hub I’ll let you know. Just get better ok? I’ll see you soon.”
The clear care in Jack’s tone made Ianto almost shudder. It made him feel dirty, a betrayer. Waves of disloyalty washed through him. He was being so ungrateful to Jack, someone who had rescued him, someone who had given his life meaning again after Lisa. And what was he doing in return? Lusting after the one man who he had always thought that he would despise. If Jack ever knew…it would be a bitter pill to swallow.
Six hours later, Ianto was back in his bed, lying on his back, a soft sheen of sweat dampening his chest. Around him, Jack’s bicep was a pillow behind his head, the soft sighing of his breathing the only sound resonating out into the room. It was surreal that such a languid embrace was usually so peaceful for him, and yet at that moment in time it couldn’t feel anymore wrong. Ianto had hoped that sex would be enough to remind him of his love for Jack, remind him of what he had convinced himself that they shared. But if anything, his momentary orgasm had only made Ianto feel more wrong.
As the body beside him quickly passed into an easy slumber, Ianto’s thoughts were only just awakening. With each passing second, Ianto found himself wondering more and more about his apparent love for Jack. More importantly, he found himself unable to stop thinking about how it had all started in the first place.
It was late, and Ianto was well aware that the hour hand on his clock had moved well past midnight. Yet he worked on, continuing to search through the files, re-ordering them in a new and much more logical system. After all, working kept his mind off everything else. There were no more thoughts of Lisa, no more thoughts of his betrayal or the fact that he had calculated that he was now standing exactly 50 metres from where she had been finally taken from him. He had barely been back at work for a week, his month long suspension finally served. The longest month of his life, where he spent all of his days sat thinking, unable to find a worthy distraction to strip his thoughts away from Lisa. But at least now he was back at work, all that could finally stop, and his mind became occupied enough for time to begin to move at a reasonable pace once more. Besides, his long hours made him feel useful again, made him feel like he was repaying torchwood, repaying Jack even, for all of his apparent “wrong doings”.
“You really need to go home.” The sudden sound of Jack’s voice made Ianto’s heart skip a beat, although he refused to turn around and face the Captain. Instead he just frowned slightly, concentrating harder on the particular section of archive in front of him, attempting to block out the other man completely.
“I’m fine.”
“And I don’t care.” Jack replied bluntly. “Fine or not, you’re going home.”
“Jack-”
“That’s an order Ianto.”
“There’s nothing at home for me anymore.” Ianto sighed softly, closing the archive with a loud bang and resting his right palm against the metal. His shoulders hunched slightly, his eyes closing as he tried to regain what little composure he had left. “It’s not a place I want to be.”
“And where do you want to be Ianto?” He hadn’t heard Jack approach him, but the warm hand on his back told him that his captain was there, and even more importantly he was listening.
“Anywhere but at home.”
“You might have to be more specific than that.” The other man laughed softly. “Tell me what you want Ianto.”
“I want….” The words weren’t there on his tongue as Ianto turned round, his bleary eyes finally meeting with Jack’s. The eyes before him no longer bore the harsh authority that he expected them to, but instead they carried with them a softer air of sympathy, maybe even empathy. “I want peace. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“You’re not alone.” Jack smiled. “Right here aren’t I?”
“But not all the time.” Ianto quickly shook his head. “You’re not always right behind me.”
“But I’d always be there when you wanted me to be.” Stepping forward, Jack curled his hands round Ianto’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He didn’t lean in any further, determined not to impose on the other man as he looked further into his eyes. “All you have to do is say, and I’ll be there.” He nodded, so softly that Ianto almost attributed the movement to his imagination in the gloom that surrounded them. “Now tell me again; what do you want?”
“I….I want to feel.” Sighing, Ianto gave into him. He half slumped forward in Jack’s arms, capturing his lips in a soft and tentative kiss. Jack kissed him back, although he made no move to deepen it, allowing Ianto to move at his own slow and steady pace. Their lips softly meshed together, Jack’s tongue so gentle that it almost moved to comfort Ianto’s when it in turn first moved to enter his mouth. Everything about that kiss had simply caught Ianto off guard, felt so completely and utterly alien to him, and at the same time so warm and compelling. He didn’t want to pull away, but his logic was screaming inside his brain, his mind suddenly so desperate to tell Jack exactly what he wanted. “I want you Jack. Just you…..just me….together.”
Jack’s reply had been too strong for words. As how could words ever have described the elation that spread through Ianto’s body when Jack touched him? The euphoria that roared through him when he gently pushed Ianto up against the archive wall, and his lips finally lavishing attention to the areas of his skin which had been lying ignored for what felt like so long? How could words describe the completeness that Ianto felt when Jack had finally filled him, when his world had faded into stars and all he could was hang on tightly and feel? It had been so long since he had felt anything positive, and now it seemed that Jack Harkness was intent on remedying that.
And now, re-living that night, re-living every night that they had shared, Ianto finally understood why he had convinced himself so fully that he loved Jack.
That night, Jack had saved him. However you wanted to phrase it, Jack had been the one to show him care when the rest of the team so rightly turned their backs. Jack had been the first to forgive and seemingly the first to forget. He had brought Ianto back to the land of the living, given him a purpose, made him feel as if yes, he did deserve to love and be loved again. How could Ianto not feel that he had to give something back after that? Even if it was completely sub conscious, Ianto was forever in Jack’s debt, and his loyal nature made that press more heavily on his thoughts than anything else. Was that why he had told himself to love Jack? Because he felt he should? Ianto couldn’t deny that he felt genuine emotion towards his captain, and in many respects, he did love him. He was proud to know him, proud to be his confidant and he did care for Jack more than many other people he had come to know through out his life. But still the fact remained. The love that Ianto had for Jack was not the soul burning, lust fuelling euphoric sensation that every touch from Owen Harper brought to him. And no matter how hard he tried, it never really would be.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning things in Ianto’s head weren’t much clearer. As Jack had driven them both to the Hub that morning he had tried desperately to connect with and listen to the story that Jack was telling him, but it was as if his mind wouldn’t let him. All he could think off were thoughts of Owen, of how screwed up their situation was and even more importantly ways in which he could rectify it. After all, if one thing was blatantly certain in his mind, it was that something would have to be done. And soon. Things are torchwood were hard enough without Ianto having to live in fear of his feelings on top of everything else.
But over the next few hours of that morning, it became obvious to Ianto that Owen wanted nothing to do with him. Yes he was being civil, nodding to him with a small smile as greeting, before collapsing down at his desk and burying himself in work. But that was all. No words, nothing. Just an awkward silence that seemed to almost quiver between them. Ianto was at a loss at what actually to do, what to say. He was desperate to get Owen on his own so that he could talk to him. But at the same time Ianto was so conflicted. What would he say? He had to say something; anything to try and convince Owen that the feelings he had for him could not be pushed aside, but what? The truth? Ianto’s gut was telling him that the truth was the only thing he could really rely on right then. It was simply a question of whether or not Owen would want to do anything about it once he had heard it….
His mind made up, Ianto waited impatiently for another hour until it was time for his 11am coffee round. Deliberately he went around the Hub in his usual methodical manner, taking Jack’s coffee into him separately before then handing out the rest of the mugs to Gwen, Toshiko and then finally Owen. But as he laid the mug down on the medic’s desk with an unusually loud clunk, he slipped a piece of paper underneath it, half exposed for Owen to read. Written across it in Ianto’s plain hand writing was simply:
‘Archives in ten minutes. I need to talk to you. Please.’
Ianto lingered on beside him for long enough, watching for a sign from Owen from which he could decipher an answer. Owen simply glanced up at him softly, those brown eyes reaching out and seemingly caressing his own for a moment. Neither of them spoke for that brief second of time, although they both opened their mouths as if they were about to say something, yet it seemed neither was sure of what to say. Owen then sighed, looking away quickly and running an absent hand through his hair. When his gaze met Ianto’s again, his face was wearing a soft smile. Ianto wasn’t sure how he knew, but the gesture alone was enough to tell him that the medic was at least going to agree to talk.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In amongst the dust, the cool air and dimmed lighting that made up the Torchwood archives, Ianto Jones prepared to make his own history. It was ironic, that a place that’s only purpose was to store history, the details and possessions of so many people long since dead, was now creating its own history. Ianto liked irony; it was something that felt second nature to him at Torchwood. In fact, ironic was something you could almost describe his relationship with Owen as….
“We need to be quick about this.” The Owen that was stood in front of him was not the man Ianto expected to see. His features were anxious, his eyes pools of frustration and nervous energy. He shifted slightly on the spot, biting his lip and watching Ianto carefully. “Before someone misses us upstairs I mean.” Ianto smiled inwardly, he knew that wasn’t really what Owen meant. By his body language it seemed obvious that the medic wanted the awkwardness between them to dissipate just as much as Ianto, but he seemed content to run away rather than face it all head on.
“We have to talk though Owen. What happened yesterday….that can’t have been the end of it.”
“Why not?”
“Because!” Ianto hissed, resting his hands on his hips. “I told you…I don’t want to stop this.”
“But we have to Yan.” The medic sighed, gripping the hair on his head with one hand. “Remember what this was doing to you yesterday?” He rolled his eyes, glancing up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers they needed. “I can’t screw you up like that. Not knowingly.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Well then!” Owen held back a yell, stepping closer to him so that Ianto was forced to look into his eyes. “What do you want from me Ianto? You have Jack don’t you?….Why are you messing around with me like this?”
“I’m not messing around with you.”
“You are Ianto. I’m trying to protect you here and-”
“Protect me from what?”
“Me!” In an instant, Owen completely fell apart, his shoulders hunching as he stared intently at the floor. Anything to stop him from looking at Ianto’s face. His feet shuffled on the spot, his head hanging loosely from his shoulders. “I’m going to hurt you Ianto. I don’t know how, but I always do. And…..I can’t do that to you alright?”
“Owen….” Taking a tentative step forward, Ianto reached out, resting his hand gently on the back of the medic’s neck. “Just say it….please. So I know.”
“Say what?”
“You know what.” Ianto smiled weakly, pulling him forward into a soft hug, Owen’s head resting on his shoulder. “Please….”
“I love you Yan…..I’m sorry…..but I do.”
“Don’t be sorry…” Smiling weakly, Ianto pulled back, tilting Owen’s head upwards, pulling him into a gentle kiss. “I don’t know what to do about any of this either.” Stroking his thumbs across Owen’s cheeks, he held his face close, his words chiming out into the silence that surrounded them. “I just know that we have to do something.”
“But what?”
“I don’t know….” Ianto laughed softly. “But I want to be with you. If you’ll have me?”
“And you said I was oblivious….” Owen grinned weakly, before leaning forward and kissing Ianto so much more deliberately than what they had shared before hand. “Bloody stupid you are sometimes Ianto Jones.” The laugh that left Owen’s mouth seemed to invite Ianto in, the two men almost folding into another kiss. Nothing else mattered between them, and for those few pure moments the archives was their sanctuary, shielding them away from the rest of the world. For the archives had given them both the space they needed to admit their feelings for each other in the first place. The dust filled air enveloped them, the soft hum of the Hub’s machinery above them the only noise. Their own world. For once they were far away from the prying eyes of Torchwood, from the curious eyes of their colleagues. Finally they were just alone. And right then, that was the only thing that either of them really wanted….
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The figures on the screen continued to kiss.
And yet Jack Harkness just couldn’t look away.
It was masochistic, he knew that. Watching Ianto there, his arms wrapped around Owen just like they always used to wrap around him. His head was spinning, a bitter swallow the only movement he made for a good few minutes as he continued to watch on, saw the passion and desire in their eyes grow deeper. At any other time, Jack would have found it a huge turn on. He couldn’t deny that he hadn’t imagined them together some nights, and the fantasy had made him so resolutely hard at the mere thought of it. But this…..this wasn’t his fantasy. For Jack hadn’t just seen what had happened in the archives barely moments ago, but he had heard it too.
It was funny really. He had convinced himself when Owen got back from Ianto’s flat the day before that something was wrong. He had just had that feeling, that niggling thought at the back of his head which told him that he was being kept out of the loop, that he wasn’t getting the whole truth. He’d tried to talk to him about it that night, but surprisingly Ianto had preferred to keep quiet on the subject. This had only made Jack more concerned, especially when he noticed how awkward things between Ianto and Owen had been that morning. It was then when fear had struck him right in the chest. The fear of losing Ianto, of him having some condition that Owen was too scared to tell Jack about. He realised then and there that he had to find out what was going on. But nothing could prepare him for what he would witness next….
Shaking his head quickly, Jack turned off the CCTV, the images of the couple fading into black instantly. He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back in his office chair, his hands reaching upwards to cradle his temples. He knew that he should have felt angry, but in reality the feeling that hit him the hardest was that betrayal. He felt lied to, and that was the worst of it all. After everything they had been through he had convinced himself that he and Ianto would always been honest with each other no matter what. And the fact that Ianto had been acting behind his back, at Torchwood of all places, that was the most difficult part to bear….
I would hide here, but I have been told not to. Either way, as usual I am awaiting those awesome comments of yours which keep me writing! That being said, if you are reading this then I am just grateful that you have read this far in the first place. So thank you! :)
Just Being Me a.k.a Siany
Click here chapter five, Easier To Lie
Rating: 15 ish.
Characters: Ianto, Owen, Jack
Pairings: Ianto/Owen, Jack/Ianto
Series: Chapter four of “Lying My Way From You”.
Spoilers: If you’ve seen series one of Torchwood you’ll be fine.
Summary: What happens when you love someone for all the wrong reasons? Ianto Jones fears that is what he is doing, and even worse, he just seems to be slipping farther in love with Owen Harper at the same time….
Disclaimer: Regrettably I own nothing, none of the characters, zip. Wish I did though.
Author’s Notes: Right then, I actually have something to really add into here. It’s not a warning as such, but in this fic you will find a slightly different from canon look at Jack/Ianto, so you have been warned. I adore Jack/Ianto, but since I also adore the idea of exploring different dynamics of it, and so as this is not a Janto centred story I thought I would have a go at something a bit different. Anyway, as usual my ownto writing’s would not be posted without the brilliant help of my ownto beta thehubsitter , who I swear maintains my sanity when I’m writing! And by now, you know how much I adore your comments so much. I just hope you enjoy this. :)
Chapter One: It's Beginning To Get To Me
Chapter Two: Oblivious
Chapter Three: The Edge's Start To Blur
Dedicated to my completely awesome ownto girls. To thehubsitter for keeping my ownto muses alive, for being just a bit fabulous and rolling her eyes when I write at 4am. To naddypants for being a true writing buddy, and building my confidence with her thoughts! Thank you so much girls. :)
Ianto Jones was becoming tired of waking up alone.
He’d woken up gently, his mind slowly dragging itself from unconsciousness and bringing his thoughts back into reality. For those brief first few moments he had felt warm, comforted, his body still lavishing the attention it had received from Owen only hours before. His thoughts didn’t move any further back in time from that, they merely dwelled on, happy to sit and relish in the pure emotion that Owen seemed to bring out of him. He didn’t know what it was about loving the medic that felt satisfying, whether it was the challenge of it all, or the intense exhilaration he felt as they kissed. It was all just so new, so fresh, their minds completely lost to each other every time that they even touched. Ianto was convinced he had never felt anything like it since….well, for a long time.
The feeling he had had when he woke up was like no other. He was convinced that he had only slept a few hours and yet as he first became aware of his surroundings, Ianto felt comforted by the feeling of Owen still lying in his arms. After all, he was the one Ianto wanted to wake up to, the man who he wanted to see the second he opened his eyes. But in this case, Ianto did not. As when he did finally open his eyes, he simply found a pillow clasped tightly to his body and Owen nowhere to be found.
No note, nothing. Just a bitter silence that enveloped his world and shed very little light on the past events of that afternoon. Ianto sighed, sitting upright and running his hands through his hair. He didn’t need answers, not from Owen anyway. What he really needed was answers from himself. And that was the concept he was struggling with.
Shaking his head, Ianto stood up, pulling on a pair of clean boxers and heading into the lounge. He glanced at the clock, quickly calculating that he had managed to sleep for an hour and half, and that right about now back at the Hub Jack would be getting coffee cravings. In his mind he weighed up whether or not he should go back, put on a smile and pretend that suddenly he felt fine after some rest. But Ianto quickly decided against this. After all, Owen was back at the Hub too, and seeing him would stir all the emotions he was currently hiding from back up to the surface again.
Buzzing into life beside him, Ianto’s phone quickly announced that he had received a voicemail whilst he had been sleeping. He picked it up quickly, dialling the number and hoping against hope that he might hear Owen’s voice when he did so. It was perverse, Owen was the last person he wanted to hear from right then, but at the same time he was the only person who seemed to matter in Ianto’s world. And with this same thought, Ianto couldn’t hide the disappointment in his features when he heard Jack’s familiar tone instead.
“Yan? Owen told me you just needed some rest, so if we need you at the Hub I’ll let you know. Just get better ok? I’ll see you soon.”
The clear care in Jack’s tone made Ianto almost shudder. It made him feel dirty, a betrayer. Waves of disloyalty washed through him. He was being so ungrateful to Jack, someone who had rescued him, someone who had given his life meaning again after Lisa. And what was he doing in return? Lusting after the one man who he had always thought that he would despise. If Jack ever knew…it would be a bitter pill to swallow.
Six hours later, Ianto was back in his bed, lying on his back, a soft sheen of sweat dampening his chest. Around him, Jack’s bicep was a pillow behind his head, the soft sighing of his breathing the only sound resonating out into the room. It was surreal that such a languid embrace was usually so peaceful for him, and yet at that moment in time it couldn’t feel anymore wrong. Ianto had hoped that sex would be enough to remind him of his love for Jack, remind him of what he had convinced himself that they shared. But if anything, his momentary orgasm had only made Ianto feel more wrong.
As the body beside him quickly passed into an easy slumber, Ianto’s thoughts were only just awakening. With each passing second, Ianto found himself wondering more and more about his apparent love for Jack. More importantly, he found himself unable to stop thinking about how it had all started in the first place.
It was late, and Ianto was well aware that the hour hand on his clock had moved well past midnight. Yet he worked on, continuing to search through the files, re-ordering them in a new and much more logical system. After all, working kept his mind off everything else. There were no more thoughts of Lisa, no more thoughts of his betrayal or the fact that he had calculated that he was now standing exactly 50 metres from where she had been finally taken from him. He had barely been back at work for a week, his month long suspension finally served. The longest month of his life, where he spent all of his days sat thinking, unable to find a worthy distraction to strip his thoughts away from Lisa. But at least now he was back at work, all that could finally stop, and his mind became occupied enough for time to begin to move at a reasonable pace once more. Besides, his long hours made him feel useful again, made him feel like he was repaying torchwood, repaying Jack even, for all of his apparent “wrong doings”.
“You really need to go home.” The sudden sound of Jack’s voice made Ianto’s heart skip a beat, although he refused to turn around and face the Captain. Instead he just frowned slightly, concentrating harder on the particular section of archive in front of him, attempting to block out the other man completely.
“I’m fine.”
“And I don’t care.” Jack replied bluntly. “Fine or not, you’re going home.”
“Jack-”
“That’s an order Ianto.”
“There’s nothing at home for me anymore.” Ianto sighed softly, closing the archive with a loud bang and resting his right palm against the metal. His shoulders hunched slightly, his eyes closing as he tried to regain what little composure he had left. “It’s not a place I want to be.”
“And where do you want to be Ianto?” He hadn’t heard Jack approach him, but the warm hand on his back told him that his captain was there, and even more importantly he was listening.
“Anywhere but at home.”
“You might have to be more specific than that.” The other man laughed softly. “Tell me what you want Ianto.”
“I want….” The words weren’t there on his tongue as Ianto turned round, his bleary eyes finally meeting with Jack’s. The eyes before him no longer bore the harsh authority that he expected them to, but instead they carried with them a softer air of sympathy, maybe even empathy. “I want peace. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“You’re not alone.” Jack smiled. “Right here aren’t I?”
“But not all the time.” Ianto quickly shook his head. “You’re not always right behind me.”
“But I’d always be there when you wanted me to be.” Stepping forward, Jack curled his hands round Ianto’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He didn’t lean in any further, determined not to impose on the other man as he looked further into his eyes. “All you have to do is say, and I’ll be there.” He nodded, so softly that Ianto almost attributed the movement to his imagination in the gloom that surrounded them. “Now tell me again; what do you want?”
“I….I want to feel.” Sighing, Ianto gave into him. He half slumped forward in Jack’s arms, capturing his lips in a soft and tentative kiss. Jack kissed him back, although he made no move to deepen it, allowing Ianto to move at his own slow and steady pace. Their lips softly meshed together, Jack’s tongue so gentle that it almost moved to comfort Ianto’s when it in turn first moved to enter his mouth. Everything about that kiss had simply caught Ianto off guard, felt so completely and utterly alien to him, and at the same time so warm and compelling. He didn’t want to pull away, but his logic was screaming inside his brain, his mind suddenly so desperate to tell Jack exactly what he wanted. “I want you Jack. Just you…..just me….together.”
Jack’s reply had been too strong for words. As how could words ever have described the elation that spread through Ianto’s body when Jack touched him? The euphoria that roared through him when he gently pushed Ianto up against the archive wall, and his lips finally lavishing attention to the areas of his skin which had been lying ignored for what felt like so long? How could words describe the completeness that Ianto felt when Jack had finally filled him, when his world had faded into stars and all he could was hang on tightly and feel? It had been so long since he had felt anything positive, and now it seemed that Jack Harkness was intent on remedying that.
And now, re-living that night, re-living every night that they had shared, Ianto finally understood why he had convinced himself so fully that he loved Jack.
That night, Jack had saved him. However you wanted to phrase it, Jack had been the one to show him care when the rest of the team so rightly turned their backs. Jack had been the first to forgive and seemingly the first to forget. He had brought Ianto back to the land of the living, given him a purpose, made him feel as if yes, he did deserve to love and be loved again. How could Ianto not feel that he had to give something back after that? Even if it was completely sub conscious, Ianto was forever in Jack’s debt, and his loyal nature made that press more heavily on his thoughts than anything else. Was that why he had told himself to love Jack? Because he felt he should? Ianto couldn’t deny that he felt genuine emotion towards his captain, and in many respects, he did love him. He was proud to know him, proud to be his confidant and he did care for Jack more than many other people he had come to know through out his life. But still the fact remained. The love that Ianto had for Jack was not the soul burning, lust fuelling euphoric sensation that every touch from Owen Harper brought to him. And no matter how hard he tried, it never really would be.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning things in Ianto’s head weren’t much clearer. As Jack had driven them both to the Hub that morning he had tried desperately to connect with and listen to the story that Jack was telling him, but it was as if his mind wouldn’t let him. All he could think off were thoughts of Owen, of how screwed up their situation was and even more importantly ways in which he could rectify it. After all, if one thing was blatantly certain in his mind, it was that something would have to be done. And soon. Things are torchwood were hard enough without Ianto having to live in fear of his feelings on top of everything else.
But over the next few hours of that morning, it became obvious to Ianto that Owen wanted nothing to do with him. Yes he was being civil, nodding to him with a small smile as greeting, before collapsing down at his desk and burying himself in work. But that was all. No words, nothing. Just an awkward silence that seemed to almost quiver between them. Ianto was at a loss at what actually to do, what to say. He was desperate to get Owen on his own so that he could talk to him. But at the same time Ianto was so conflicted. What would he say? He had to say something; anything to try and convince Owen that the feelings he had for him could not be pushed aside, but what? The truth? Ianto’s gut was telling him that the truth was the only thing he could really rely on right then. It was simply a question of whether or not Owen would want to do anything about it once he had heard it….
His mind made up, Ianto waited impatiently for another hour until it was time for his 11am coffee round. Deliberately he went around the Hub in his usual methodical manner, taking Jack’s coffee into him separately before then handing out the rest of the mugs to Gwen, Toshiko and then finally Owen. But as he laid the mug down on the medic’s desk with an unusually loud clunk, he slipped a piece of paper underneath it, half exposed for Owen to read. Written across it in Ianto’s plain hand writing was simply:
‘Archives in ten minutes. I need to talk to you. Please.’
Ianto lingered on beside him for long enough, watching for a sign from Owen from which he could decipher an answer. Owen simply glanced up at him softly, those brown eyes reaching out and seemingly caressing his own for a moment. Neither of them spoke for that brief second of time, although they both opened their mouths as if they were about to say something, yet it seemed neither was sure of what to say. Owen then sighed, looking away quickly and running an absent hand through his hair. When his gaze met Ianto’s again, his face was wearing a soft smile. Ianto wasn’t sure how he knew, but the gesture alone was enough to tell him that the medic was at least going to agree to talk.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In amongst the dust, the cool air and dimmed lighting that made up the Torchwood archives, Ianto Jones prepared to make his own history. It was ironic, that a place that’s only purpose was to store history, the details and possessions of so many people long since dead, was now creating its own history. Ianto liked irony; it was something that felt second nature to him at Torchwood. In fact, ironic was something you could almost describe his relationship with Owen as….
“We need to be quick about this.” The Owen that was stood in front of him was not the man Ianto expected to see. His features were anxious, his eyes pools of frustration and nervous energy. He shifted slightly on the spot, biting his lip and watching Ianto carefully. “Before someone misses us upstairs I mean.” Ianto smiled inwardly, he knew that wasn’t really what Owen meant. By his body language it seemed obvious that the medic wanted the awkwardness between them to dissipate just as much as Ianto, but he seemed content to run away rather than face it all head on.
“We have to talk though Owen. What happened yesterday….that can’t have been the end of it.”
“Why not?”
“Because!” Ianto hissed, resting his hands on his hips. “I told you…I don’t want to stop this.”
“But we have to Yan.” The medic sighed, gripping the hair on his head with one hand. “Remember what this was doing to you yesterday?” He rolled his eyes, glancing up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers they needed. “I can’t screw you up like that. Not knowingly.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Well then!” Owen held back a yell, stepping closer to him so that Ianto was forced to look into his eyes. “What do you want from me Ianto? You have Jack don’t you?….Why are you messing around with me like this?”
“I’m not messing around with you.”
“You are Ianto. I’m trying to protect you here and-”
“Protect me from what?”
“Me!” In an instant, Owen completely fell apart, his shoulders hunching as he stared intently at the floor. Anything to stop him from looking at Ianto’s face. His feet shuffled on the spot, his head hanging loosely from his shoulders. “I’m going to hurt you Ianto. I don’t know how, but I always do. And…..I can’t do that to you alright?”
“Owen….” Taking a tentative step forward, Ianto reached out, resting his hand gently on the back of the medic’s neck. “Just say it….please. So I know.”
“Say what?”
“You know what.” Ianto smiled weakly, pulling him forward into a soft hug, Owen’s head resting on his shoulder. “Please….”
“I love you Yan…..I’m sorry…..but I do.”
“Don’t be sorry…” Smiling weakly, Ianto pulled back, tilting Owen’s head upwards, pulling him into a gentle kiss. “I don’t know what to do about any of this either.” Stroking his thumbs across Owen’s cheeks, he held his face close, his words chiming out into the silence that surrounded them. “I just know that we have to do something.”
“But what?”
“I don’t know….” Ianto laughed softly. “But I want to be with you. If you’ll have me?”
“And you said I was oblivious….” Owen grinned weakly, before leaning forward and kissing Ianto so much more deliberately than what they had shared before hand. “Bloody stupid you are sometimes Ianto Jones.” The laugh that left Owen’s mouth seemed to invite Ianto in, the two men almost folding into another kiss. Nothing else mattered between them, and for those few pure moments the archives was their sanctuary, shielding them away from the rest of the world. For the archives had given them both the space they needed to admit their feelings for each other in the first place. The dust filled air enveloped them, the soft hum of the Hub’s machinery above them the only noise. Their own world. For once they were far away from the prying eyes of Torchwood, from the curious eyes of their colleagues. Finally they were just alone. And right then, that was the only thing that either of them really wanted….
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The figures on the screen continued to kiss.
And yet Jack Harkness just couldn’t look away.
It was masochistic, he knew that. Watching Ianto there, his arms wrapped around Owen just like they always used to wrap around him. His head was spinning, a bitter swallow the only movement he made for a good few minutes as he continued to watch on, saw the passion and desire in their eyes grow deeper. At any other time, Jack would have found it a huge turn on. He couldn’t deny that he hadn’t imagined them together some nights, and the fantasy had made him so resolutely hard at the mere thought of it. But this…..this wasn’t his fantasy. For Jack hadn’t just seen what had happened in the archives barely moments ago, but he had heard it too.
It was funny really. He had convinced himself when Owen got back from Ianto’s flat the day before that something was wrong. He had just had that feeling, that niggling thought at the back of his head which told him that he was being kept out of the loop, that he wasn’t getting the whole truth. He’d tried to talk to him about it that night, but surprisingly Ianto had preferred to keep quiet on the subject. This had only made Jack more concerned, especially when he noticed how awkward things between Ianto and Owen had been that morning. It was then when fear had struck him right in the chest. The fear of losing Ianto, of him having some condition that Owen was too scared to tell Jack about. He realised then and there that he had to find out what was going on. But nothing could prepare him for what he would witness next….
Shaking his head quickly, Jack turned off the CCTV, the images of the couple fading into black instantly. He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back in his office chair, his hands reaching upwards to cradle his temples. He knew that he should have felt angry, but in reality the feeling that hit him the hardest was that betrayal. He felt lied to, and that was the worst of it all. After everything they had been through he had convinced himself that he and Ianto would always been honest with each other no matter what. And the fact that Ianto had been acting behind his back, at Torchwood of all places, that was the most difficult part to bear….
I would hide here, but I have been told not to. Either way, as usual I am awaiting those awesome comments of yours which keep me writing! That being said, if you are reading this then I am just grateful that you have read this far in the first place. So thank you! :)
Just Being Me a.k.a Siany
Click here chapter five, Easier To Lie