Fic: Interlunation
Title: Interlunation
Author: fides
Pairing: Krycek/Ianto, (reference to Jack/Ianto & Mulder/Krycek)
Fandom: X-Files/Torchwood (and special cookies to anyone who can id the other fandom that gets hinted at)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Spoilers for End of Days
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine no matter what the little voices in my head might say ;-)
Sequal to 1. Plus Ça Change, 2. Hobson's Choice
Summary: After the events in End of Days, Ianto recalls Alex back from secondment in the US
Notes: I know that the timelines don't quite fit so I decided to fudge things a little because it was too tempting to compare Torchwood and the Consortium. This is set after the Movie (X-Files) and season 1 (Torchwood). In depth knowledge of both fandoms isn't required. Thanks to moth2fic for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are own.
"What happened, Ianto?" Alex felt the words leap from his throat before he had consciously formed them in his mind. He wasn't sure what it was about the people of Torchwood Three that they seemed able to surprise reactions out of him when no one else did. Alex had a strong suspicion that the answer lay in the rift putting out some sort of radiation that Tosh had yet to identify. It would explain a lot.
"Jack left." Ianto's voice was flat and he didn't bother to look up from the files he was staring at.
Alex felt the urge to slap the man just to force a reaction from him. He recognised the feeling from hundreds of times with Mulder and repressed it as he always did. There was enough violence in his job without adding to it just from frustration. Especially when there were other more effective responses.
"What happened?" Alex repeated carefully. It had been a long damn flight and he was tired. Even with the weight of the British Embassy behind him it had taken him the best part of two days to tie up the minimum loose ends and get from DC to Cardiff. He'd been greeted at Heathrow with a rather garbled message from Ianto that, Ianto's previous belief to the contrary, Jack had defied the odds and revived yet again, albeit belatedly. Alex's relief had been cut short by a second message that Jack had vanished. The grief that had weighed on Alex since Ianto had called him back from the States had been all Alex needed to realise that he had completely come to terms with the fact that Jack had lied to him. When it came down to it, Alex admitted to himself, he actually enjoyed working at Torchwood and, if that was what it took, he could live with Jack hiding information from him if Jack could live with him trying to find it out.
Ianto shrugged. "Short version: the rift was unstable. We thought tens of thousands of people were going to die if we didn't do something and Jack was just letting it happen. We all argued with him. Owen shot him."
Alex blinked. That was more brutal than he expected. The Consortium went in for promotion by merit of assassination but he hadn't thought that Torchwood would follow a similar policy, Gwen's recruitment aside. Of course given Jack was the boss any promotion prospects by those means would be temporary at best. Owen was hardly the first to shoot Jack, Alex had done it himself after all, and it caused more problems for the shooter than it did for Jack.
"But..?" Alex looked at Ianto's hunched back in confusion.
"Oh yes, he recovered, they all know about him now of course," Ianto continued dismissively, "but before he came back we had set the rift to open, briefly, so it could stabilise. We were wrong and he was right." Ianto's voice cracked slightly, the first indication Alex had had that Ianto's pose was more fragile than Ianto might have liked. "We released a monster and Jack stopped it... at the cost to his own life." Ianto turned towards him finally and he seemed little more than a cardboard cut out, the type of doll Alex's sisters had made to play with when they could not afford anything else. "We thought he had finally found something that could kill him permanently." That was when Ianto had phoned him Alex realised. He wondered how long it had been, hours stretching into days before Ianto gave up and called. Ianto met Alex's gaze squarely. "Only Gwen wouldn't accept it."
Judging by the way Ianto was acting, Alex thought he believed that that lack of patience was his greatest treachery. It was a stupid conceit but Alex knew Ianto wouldn't believe him if he told him so. Jack had taught his team to accept their losses, to understand that not everyone could be saved. It didn't surprise Alex that only Gwen, the newest recruit and the one who had suffered the least while part of the team, hadn't fully learnt that lesson yet and, therefore, had been the only one to hold on past hope and common sense. Alex could see the ghost of that time hiding in the glassiness of Ianto's eyes. It wasn't the first betrayal that damned you; it was when the first tiny hope for redemption was dashed, because it was only then that you realised that you had betrayed yourself. Alex had double-crossed many people many times and had done it without qualm or guilt, but in his own mind he had truly betrayed very few.
"But he did." Alex made a rising gesture with one hand.
Ianto nodded. That had been their chance to make amends, Alex thought, Jack back and forgiving them, because Alex knew Jack would forgive them. At least for their actions with the rift. That Owen wasn't dead was proof of that. Alex was at least fairly sure that Ianto would have mentioned if Owen wasn't in the picture any more.
"Your last message said he had vanished?" Alex prompted.
And that was the problem wasn't it? Back just long enough to give them hope that they could make up for their lack of faith and then gone before they could.
"Gone," Ianto agreed. "Don't know where."
"But he's coming back?" Alex could understand Jack's needing a little time away after what had happened. Alex might have to shoot him a little, now he knew it wouldn't be permanently fatal, as a gentle reminder about good management technique and why you should use it when dealing with an paramilitary group of oddballs. Or just about the advisability of leaving a note.
Ianto shook his head slowly. "I doubt it - he found his Doctor. That was all he was staying here for."
Ianto's surety struck Alex like a punch to the gut. He wanted to believe that that wasn't true. That all of Jack's talk about the importance of the work they were doing was more than a smokescreen to cover his true goal. Alex felt the bitter laugh well inside him and forced it down. What was he always telling Mulder? That there was no one truth. Jack might have had his own reasons, but he had taught Torchwood Three as he led and had given them the tools with which they could continue the fight without him. Maybe with the team's mutiny Jack had thought they were ready, or maybe the opportunity had just been too good to miss, but if Alex looked at the situation dispassionately it was clear that Jack had prepared them to continue without him. He'd had a lot of practice but he had never really got the hang of dispassion.
"But you two..?" Alex began, still not wanting to believe Jack had abandoned everything.
Ianto shrugged. "A bit of fun, for both of us, while he waited. He made that clear at the beginning and I wasn't looking for another commitment."
Alex looked at Ianto carefully. If that was how the two men wanted to live their lives then Alex certainly had no objections. He had, after all, benefited from the openness of their arrangement, but something in Ianto's voice wasn't quite ringing true. "You were okay with that?" he asked.
"Like you and Mulder," Ianto pointed out, "some things are what they are". Alex wasn't exactly happy about the situation with Mulder, but it didn't seem like the time to argue the point. Ianto looked away from whatever slipped through into Alex's expression. "Jack needed me for this place," he insisted quietly "but he needed the Doctor for everything else and he had to take his chance".
So that was the problem. Alex considered what Jack had told him of Ianto's devotion to the thing Ianto had believed was his girlfriend. After that experience Alex could definitely understand why something lighter and with little commitment would appeal. Alex had to wonder how long Ianto had managed to fool himself into thinking that that was all that he felt for Jack, probably right up until the moment Ianto had realised what he had lost. Alex was willing to accept that Ianto was right in his analysis of Jack's needs but he'd hadn't counted on his own. Jack had needed him in his own way and Ianto was used to being needed; the result should have been obvious. When Jack had found what he was looking for and had left, unknowingly or not, he had left behind someone who had needed him in return. Not that Ianto was likely to admit as such, not when it was still true enough to sting. Now it was too late and Ianto was having to face the triple burden of his own feelings and Jack's departure without either a goodbye or an opportunity for Ianto to make things right between them in Ianto's mind. Alex knew only too well how that felt.
"Is there anything I can do?"
A flicker of a real smile appeared on Ianto's face. "I once promised Jack I wouldn't drink alone."
That wasn't a promise that Alex would ever have made himself, but if Ianto wanted a drinking buddy then Alex was there for him. He looked Ianto over; the man didn't look like he had been eating properly. Alex estimated he could drink Ianto under the desk and then get him home without any difficultly. The alcohol would probably put up more of a fight than Ianto would.
"What's your poison?" Alex asked. He knew Jack had some good Scotch in his office and Owen had a bottle of something best used for drain cleaner in his bottom drawer. Alex figured it would be a good sign if Ianto was willing to raid Jack's supply, although Alex didn't think it likely yet. He was more worried that Ianto had gone for Owen's rotgut which was tantamount to a suicide attempt on a good day. Alex had drunk worse, but only just, and that had been more for its anaesthetic properties than by choice.
Ianto reached down beside the desk he had been working at. He held up a bottle and shrugged. It was clearly unopened and Alex was struck by the uncomfortable feeling that Ianto had just been waiting for him to arrive before climbing into it. The snap as Ianto broke the seal was the crack of a neck breaking rather than the pop of a cork. Ianto took a long pull at the bottle, pulling a slight face as the alcohol hit, and passed the bottle to Alex. Alex peered at the label. "Mount Gay rum?"
Ianto looked faintly embarrassed but just shrugged again and Alex didn't ask. He took his own swig and passed the bottle back. It was good rum, Alex had to admit, but that didn't stop it trying to rip his throat out on the way down. For years he hadn't drunk neat spirits but somewhere along the way he had come to appreciate drinks that had a bit of attitude. If nothing else, you certainly knew you were alive when you drank them.
They swapped the bottle between them a few times, Ianto sitting at his desk and Alex leaning against it. Thinking he might as well cut to the chase, Alex noted a suitable spot nearby and wandered over; sinking down to the floor with his back to one of the shelves of boxes he made himself comfortable. If he could get Ianto to join him then it would be less far for the other man to fall later and, judging by the dent that Ianto was making in the rum, Alex didn't think he was going to stop until he physically had to. Really Alex was doing him a favour drinking his own share.
From his position in the stacks, Alex looked up at Ianto.
"Thanks for arranging to have my gun sent over," he broke the silence that was threatening to descend on them.
Ianto walked over to sit down beside him, nodding acknowledgment of the thanks. "What are you doing about bringing it back?"
Alex patted his side where his holster nestled, full but concealed under his jacket.
"Nicholas arranged for it to go back with me through diplomatic channels." Alex took the bottle, idly noticing that between them they were making the level drop faster than he had expected before he passed it back. Ianto was beginning to relax, the alcohol slowly softening the steel bar he had been using as a backbone and causing a slight flush that brought colour back into his pale cheeks. The result was that he looked younger and more human.
As Alex watched, Ianto took two deep swallows from the bottle, shaking his head slightly to clear the taste, before offering it across. Another couple of shots with those measures and he would probably be feeling more human as well. Human and drunk, but definitely human.
"What did you think of Nicholas?" Ianto asked. Alex wasn't sure if it was simple curiosity or professional interest. It would be the first time that he had been debriefed while half-cut and sitting on the floor but he was back at Torchwood and if it was ever going to happen, then that would be the place.
"Efficient." Alex said taking a swig. He stared at the warm brown liquid for a moment, remembering. "Dangerous. Intelligent." He paused deliberately, weighing up Ianto's response to his comments, and handed the rum over. "Fucking hot," he finished.
Ianto toasted Alex's characterisation. "Did you?" He grinned in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Jack.
"Did I what?" Alex asked, a little disconcerted by the evidence of Jack's influence when they were drinking to his departure. Even in the archives, which were indisputably Ianto's domain, Jack's presence seemed noticeable in its absence. Jack had made it very easy to believe he was a permanent part of the Hub, something reliable and unchanging against which the madness of their job could be put into perspective. Alex had recognised 'The Captain' as another player as soon as they met but he had allowed himself to be conned by Jack because he needed a better lie to cling to. And all the while Jack had just been waiting to leave.
"Fuck him," Ianto enunciated carefully and for a moment Alex wondered if Ianto was somehow reading his thoughts. Then Ianto giggled slightly and Alex realised what, and who, he meant. The memory of the secret agent grinned crookedly in his mind. Alex shifted slightly, finding a more comfortable position as a few other thoughts joined the first: the thrill of fighting side by side with a competent partner, the down times when they had worked out together, the power in that lithe figure, the way his sweat pants hung on his hips as if they didn't want to surrender contact with the fine body they concealed. But in DC Mulder was always present and Alex hadn't felt like a threesome.
"No." Alex looked over at Ianto, curious. "You?"
"No."
They looked at each other for a moment. It was the rum, Alex knew, the rum and too much emotion on not enough sleep, but all of a sudden the fact that both of them had been well-behaved on their respective trips to Washington was the funniest thing in the world. It wasn't funny at all really. If Alex's reckoning was correct then Ianto would have been more likely to suck off a gun than seduce a secret agent on his visit and Alex had had his own damn trouble and strife in the form of Mulder and cohorts getting in his face, one way or another, for most of the trip. Still, that they could have had they wanted to was a nice fantasy that they could tell themselves and each other.
"So we're both idiots then." Alex concluded. Ianto drank to the sentiment and then passed the bottle over so Alex could do the same.
"I think Jack had a thing with him back when Nicholas was in the army," Ianto said idly after a few minutes' thought and a few more exchanges of the bottle.
Alex considered that. He wasn't sure how Ianto was feeling, but his brain was feeling slightly disconnected from the rest of him and even shallow thoughts were having to fight their way upstream again the prevailing tide of Barbados' finest. Alex snickered. A commissioned Nicholas would certainly fit in with Jack's military fetish and gave a whole new meaning to inter-service cooperation. It was harder to imagine Nicholas going for Jack but Alex refused to believe that anyone really was that contained 24-7. Behind closed doors...
Alex grinned. "I think he is having a thing with the Ambassador."
"What, Jack?" Ianto looked at him confused and a little blearily.
"No, Nicholas." Alex stole the rum.
"Really?" Ianto looked at his hand where the rum wasn't as if he was trying to work out what was missing. Obviously deciding it wasn't important he looked back at Alex. "He and the Merkin Undersecretary of Defence..." Ianto winked, tapping one finger against his nose. At least in Alex's opinion, that was probably what he was trying to do. No one in Alex's experience tried to screw up their face and just miss poking themselves in the eye on purpose.
Alex took a swig in celebration. Not only was he less drunk the Ianto, even if it was a matter of degrees, but he had called it about Nicholas. He had no idea who the secretary was about whom Ianto was talking, but that didn't matter, he wasn't completely convinced Ianto knew at that exact second either. The conversation had become a little confused somewhere along the way. Or possibly it was just him. Alex wasn't even sure Ianto wasn't back to talking about Jack, who would definitely go for a secretary if one was available and attractive, rather than about Nicholas. Nicholas: all well behaved in public but in private it was backroom assignations and something. Alex couldn't quite remember what the something was but it was definitely something. It always was. As far as he could tell, old Smokey had been a randy son of a bitch in his day and Alex had his own private suspicions about Skinner's off-the-clock activities even if he hadn't managed to get the photos to prove it yet. He told Ianto that.
Ianto looked at him guilelessly. "What about your Mr Mulder? Bet you've got pictures of that."
"Nooo," Alex said mournfully. "Unless you took stills from the security footage when he came visiting here."
"Wiped it." Ianto was either too drunk or too brazen to bother trying to pretend he didn't know what Alex was talking about. Jack's influence again, Alex thought, although he had no proof of that. For all he knew Ianto could have been the school slut and than shagged his way though university while keeping all around him entertained with stories of his liaisons. It didn't really seem likely though. Ianto wasn't a choirboy but he wasn't Jack either. If he was, then Ianto wouldn't be sitting on a cold floor getting shitfaced with a spy, assassin and general rat-bastard - although Alex was working on the last part slowly. He missed Mulder. Why did the idiot have to be so determined to expose everything? Jack might have been persuaded not to retcon him if he had been willing to go along with the way things had to be.
"S'shame," Alex mused aloud. And it was. It would have been so nice to throw the pictures in Mulder's face next time he decided to have a go. "Be interesting to see what he made of evidence of that kind of close encounter."
Mulder'd probably conclude they were faked, Alex decided glumly. Or that he had been drugged and Alex was taking advantage of him. Alex wondered if Mulder would buy that they had both been drugged, both acting against their will. Alex was sure he could come up with some plausible sob story about his memory returning and his confusion and had Mulder meant what he said because that was the only way Alex could deal with what had happened... It had definite possibilities. He would have to make an effort to get pictorial evidence next time. Nothing too Adult Channel, it wouldn't do to frighten the poor boy, but enough to make it very clear what was happening. And Mulder on top like the sweet, shiny cherry on the sundae. Alex smiled and reached down to adjust himself. Obviously he wasn't that drunk and they were nearly out of rum.
"Did you see Mulder at all?" Ianto wondered "While you were in C.D., I mean."
"Not productively." Alex sighed. "I did discover that I screwed up his life even more than even I had realised - so the trip wasn't a total waste of time. You can call off the search for his sister by the way."
"So no happy reunions?" Ianto sounded mournful. Desperate for a counter-example to his own screwed up relationships, Alex supposed. And you would have to be desperate to look towards him and Mulder as setting any sort of example except for a bad, avoid at all cost, don't-do-it-like-this one. They were both getting much too maudlin; if they got much further down that route they would be crying on each other's shoulders. Alex might be willing to concede he wasn't entirely sober but he definitely wasn't that drunk.
"No happy anything," Alex admitted. "I was disgustingly well behaved. You need to send me right back so I can screw a senator or two. Nicholas can use the pictures for blackmail or just for his own private use. What do you think?"
"You want Torchwood to pay for you to fly to America just so you can get laid with a political figure?" Ianto frowned slightly as he thought this through carefully. "Wouldn't it be cheaper to hop over to Geneva and corrupt a few generals? Much more useful next time we need UNIT cooperation."
There was something scary about the way Ianto's mind worked. It wasn't that he seemed to be seriously considering the idea, it was that he was still thinking about the job. Not that Alex was going to object if there was even a small chance of a paid-for dirty weekend in a nice hotel.
"Sounds like a plan! Let's both go."
Ianto laughed, the action causing him to slumped further down the wall and slightly against Alex. He was warm through the fine material of his suit and Alex, after a few tries, slung his arm over Ianto's shoulder in a companionly way. Alex wasn't sure he had seen Ianto so... undone. Even the time on the roof, Ianto had remained perfectly composed. Alex wondered how many people got to see this Ianto, softer and almost as young as his years suggested he should be.
"Last one to fuck a field marshal files the expense reports," Alex coaxed.
"It's what Jack would have wanted," Ianto agreed solemnly before bursting out laughing again. He stopped suddenly, hearing what he had said. Alex worried for a second but then Ianto grinned. "He always used to say captains gave the best head though."
Alex rocked his free hand from side to side. "Top ten," he conceded, "maybe top five."
"Definitely top five," Ianto defended.
Alex pulled a face "At this point I'd probably acknowledge Owen sex-god of the universe if he put out. You know what they say about hunger being the best flavouring."
"It can't have been that long," Ianto disagreed.
Alex laughed. "I did have this assignation just before I went to the States." Ianto's eyes grew larger as he did the maths. "Didn't put out though. All I got was one lousy hand job and then he sent me out of town. Story of my life. Still at least he called..." Alex continued remorselessly, "eventually."
"No, no, no," Ianto chuckled, shaking his head in denial.
"Yes," Alex insisted.
Ianto mock-glared at him. "My hand jobs are not lousy."
The words 'prove it' hovered on the tip of Alex's tongue which was silly because Ianto had proved it, and quite conclusively. The frown on Ianto's face became one of thought rather than annoyance as if he had heard the words that Alex hadn't said. Even drunk, Ianto was too observant by half and Alex tried to think of something to say to divert him. His normal cryptic hints about aliens or conspiracies wouldn't work nearly so well on Ianto as they did on Mulder and, as they were half foreplay anyway, would be no help whatsoever.
Alex didn't even think about resisting as Ianto reached over to cradle his head and pull him down for a kiss. It started off gently, a tease and a question, and Alex answered both in the only way he could think of. Ianto's mouth still held the burn of the rum they had been drinking and the warmth of it flowed through him to pool in his groin. The arm he had around Ianto's shoulders suddenly became a means to pull Ianto closer, Ianto's fingers brushing through his short hair as Ianto fought to do the same. Something fierce had been conjured between them, whether from shared anger, sorrow, frustration or simple inebriation Alex didn't know or care. Alex suspected Ianto hadn't intended more than a light kiss, a physical reaffirmation after Jack's desertion that Ianto Jones was still present, desirable and everything he had presumably been before Jack. Like all plans that notion had not survived first contact.
They pulled apart reluctantly, breathing hard and looking at each other for some clue as to what had just happened. Ianto's eyes seemed wide within a shocked expression that Alex was more used to seeing on Mulder's face. There was something very appealing in the look: hair mussed and cheeks flushed as much, Alex liked to think, from the kiss as from the alcohol. Ianto's mouth hung slightly open, lips plump and slick from the kiss and inviting more. Alex doubted he looked any less debauched from the way Ianto's gaze kept flicking down and over his own mouth.
"I'll cancel those tickets to Geneva, shall I?" Ianto asked.
"Send Tosh and Owen; they need them more," Alex agreed.
That was all it took before the were kissing again; the deep, gulping kisses with which a drowning man greets the air. Ianto's hands shaped Alex's body, caressing leather, denim and skin with equal fervour. Alex returned the rough caresses, enjoying the tempting feel of the strong body beneath the layers of office formality.
"Fuck me," Ianto managed between kisses, sounding more sober than he had since they started drinking.
Alex pulled back enough to look at Ianto properly. The suit he wore like a second skin looked wrong on him, the trappings of civilisation a mockery of the wild creature they contained. It wasn't the Ianto that Alex was used to and Alex didn't think it was just the alcohol. Alex recognised the mood; reckless, freeing and cathartic. Afterwards, you never knew which you regretted more, what you did or that you had stopped.
Alex didn't know why he was asking, because he had no doubt Ianto knew what he wanted. "You sure?"
"Very." There was a time for finesse, but there was also a time for hard, mindless sex. Alex found he had been completely convinced by the case for the latter that Ianto was making with every touch.
The next few minutes were a disorganised scrabble on their knees as Ianto fought to shove his trousers and boxers down while barely having released his fly and Alex tried to push the tails of Ianto's shirt and jacket out of the way with one hand while working at his own jeans with the other. The heavier material of the Ianto's jacket resisted his attempts with contrary stubbornness.
"Jacket off." Alex panted. Ianto froze for a moment, looking at him with a confused expression. "Jacket," Alex repeated, tugging the offending garment, "off."
Ianto hastily complied, pulling it off quickly and dropping next to him where it could offer a little extra padding between his arms and the floor as he turned parallel to the shelves and bent over.
Freed of the constraining jacket, Alex was able to push Ianto's shirt up above his waist. It bunched untidily in the small of his back and under his arms but they were past any aesthetic considerations. Alex ran his hands over the body revealed. Cardiff weather and a job spent mostly underground did not allow much opportunity for nude sunbathing so Alex figured that, even with his America jaunt, his arse was probably nearly as pale as Ianto's, but in comparison to his Washington sun-tanned hands Ianto's skin looked positively creamy. Alex checked himself as his thoughts started drifting towards English roses - Ianto was neither English nor a delicate flower, thorns excepted. He did, however, give in to the impulse to set his lips and tongue to the tempting flesh. Alex caught Ianto's hips, fingers curving forwards following the curve of the bone and pulled the other man up towards him. The hobble of Ianto's trousers prevented Alex from doing much more than showing intent and giving Ianto stubble-burn but Alex wasn't going to let minor details like that stop him from licking, nipping and sucking every part of Ianto that he could conceivably get his mouth to.
Ianto growled encouragement and tried to both keep still and get his trousers down past his knees so he could spread his legs further but was thwarted by the position in which he was kneeling.
"Damn it," Ianto muttered, "this is the problem with spontaneity."
Alex chuckled against one cheek. Both hearing and feeling him, Ianto looked around and aimed a light cuff with the back of his hand at Alex's shoulder. "Not funny," he said.
"Aww," Alex sympathised, straightening up and sliding his hands up, under the bunched front of Ianto's shirt to pull Ianto up and back against him. His erection was caught between their bodies, sending a delicious frisson through him; so close to what they both wanted but not there yet. Alex cautioned himself that it could be all too easily as he savoured the slide and pressure of the spit-slicked skin. Ianto moved against him, teasing and encouraging, while Alex took advantage of their new position to explore the man in front of him.
Wherever Alex touched, Ianto's skin radiated heat as if the alcohol he had drunk was burning its way from his body. Ianto turned his head and Alex couldn't resist the offered kiss as he ran his hands down Ianto's chest, pinching his nipples when the rough brush of palms evoked an instant response. Alex's fingers carded through the hair on Ianto's chest, enjoying the way it brushed and curled around his fingers. It wasn't that he had a particular thing for chest hair, it was just that, of the last two men he had slept with, Mulder had a grand total of five hairs on his chest, total, and he suspected that Jack waxed. None of the women, he was pleased to recall, had any.
Not that he and Jack had managed to shed enough clothes for him to confirm that at the time, but Jack wasn't exactly body-shy and Alex hadn't been at Torchwood long before an incident involving some unpleasantly fragrant alien excretion had had all of them running for the showers and shedding clothes as fast as their own senses of decency had allowed. None of them had been wearing much more than socks by the time they hit the corridor leading to the bathrooms. Only Ianto hadn't been there and so hadn't been afflicted, although cleaning up after them all was perhaps a worse fate.
Alex let his right hand sweep lower in its caress, over the slightly rounded stomach that spoke of long hours in the archive rather than out in the field and further, thumb running down the trail of hair that led from navel to groin. Alex deliberately ignored the hard cock that stretched up as if towards his touch, only the thumb hooking around the root as he lightly cupped Ianto's balls, rolling them gently with his fingers. Ianto growled against his mouth, breaking the kiss, and pushing back against Alex's erection.
"I know you were 'hungry'," Ianto objected, "but when did this go from being a quick snack to a bloody banquet?
Alex smiled, nipping the side of Ianto's neck. "When I saw the menu."
"Well," Ianto said drily, "it's time for the main course. Unless you'd prefer to call for take out."
Alex decided that any comments about really going for some balls would probably result in him not only losing the first guaranteed fuck he'd been offered since Ianto had retconned Mulder but also the body parts in question.
"Are you always this demanding?" Alex asked.
Ianto grinned and Alex had a sudden suspicion that he hadn't even began to see demanding. Saying nothing, Ianto leant backwards against him, head resting on Alex' shoulder and body arched slightly so the Alex had a perfect view down the line of his body to the subtly jutting hips. Ignoring the hand that Alex had wrapped around his testicles, Ianto reached for his own erection and drew his hand up it slowly from base to tip. His breathy moan echoed in Alex's ear. Equally slowly, Ianto brought his hand back down until it rested on Alex's. Alex watched fascinated as he repeated the gesture. He'd spent enough time in Europe and Asia that the presence of the foreskin sliding over the head of Ianto's cock as Ianto's action pulled on the skin was unremarkable; it was the sheer abandoned delight that Ianto was taking in that action that gripped him. Alex was absolutely positive that Ianto was just as aware of him as he was of Ianto, but the man acted as if there was nobody there but his own desires and the indulgent way he entertained those desires was breathtaking. .
"Were you planning on joining in?" Ianto whispered.
Alex blinked, half-mesmerised by the rhythmic movement of Ianto's fist. "How the hell did Jack leave this?" he asked without thinking.
Ianto laughed throatily. "Not everything is about sex." As his hand reached the bottom of the stroke he let go and let it thread over Alex's, drawing their joined hands down to tug on his balls. "This is, however."
Alex had no answer for that except to free his hand and bring both up to Ianto's head to draw him back into a long kiss.
"So are you going to fuck me now?" Ianto asked as the kiss finally broke. "Or should I just keep going?"
Alex mentally patted himself down; he had condoms in his wallet, more in tradition than in hope of use, but nothing that could be used as slick.
"Stuff?" Alex gasped. Spit and rum might work, but Ianto wasn't Mulder and Alex still had just enough rational thought left to realise that it probably wasn't a good idea for their first time. And that Ianto would probably go for it if given the suggestion which was why he wasn't mentioning it. Ianto might not care if he could sit comfortably in the morning but Alex didn't want to be holding his dick gingerly the next time he needed a piss. Their respective heads when the hangover kicked in were going to be enough for them to deal with.
Ianto muttered something uncomplimentary that Alex chose not to hear. Raising his voice, Ianto directed, "Lower desk draw. Look in the kit."
Alex raised an eyebrow and forbore from asking. There probably was a totally reasonable explanation as to why Ianto had lubricant in his desk drawer but Alex didn't want to know what it was - the unreasonable explanations were so much more fun to imagine. His cock bobbed stupidly from his open trousers as he hurried to the desk and he thanked providence that he was wearing button rather than zip flies. The sensation of cold air after the welcoming warmth of Ianto's body pushed him to hurry almost as much as the thoughts of what awaited him upon success. He turned back to check with Ianto he had the right drawer only to find that Ianto was watching him closely, an appreciative smirk on his face as he idly played with himself. That was enough to send Alex diving into the drawer with renewed haste. The field kit was easy enough to find, for which Alex was duly grateful, and it did not take him long to locate a tube marked as lubricant and confirm it was latex-safe.
Alex crossed back to where Ianto waited and collected a rough but swift kiss in reward. His cock jumped as, with a wink, Ianto settled back onto knees and elbows. Alex rolled the condom on quickly, knowing he wouldn't want to take the time later. The lube was cold on his fingers and he considered warming it for a moment before deciding that he owed Ianto for the little display he had put on. Ianto swore as Alex pushed the first finger into him but Alex didn't miss the way he also pushed back into the touch.
"More?" Alex asked unnecessarily.
He took Ianto's eloquent glare over his shoulder as a 'yes' and continued, adding another finger and more lube. There was something powerful and magical in the way that the living body reacted to stimulation, the way muscles tightened and released in response to touch, the little sounds of pleasure that broke free, the squirming demands, threats and pleas... Alex had never actively enjoyed torture, except in the purely consensual sense, but there had always been something darkly satisfying in making your partner beg. Or at least that had been true with Mulder. He had thought that Ianto would be the same but seeing Ianto so uninhibited and wanting, Alex found it wasn't within him to deny that need any longer than physically necessary. Or possibly, Alex had to concede, it was his own need that he couldn't deny.
"Ianto," he warned.
"Do it," Ianto pleaded.
Alex positioned himself and pushed forward carefully, feeling Ianto brace his body against Alex's thrust. Alex stroked his hands over Ianto's back, enjoying the sweet moment as Ianto's body accepted his within it. Ianto arched into first stroke with a soft sigh which Alex echoed.
Hand jobs (his own or other people's) aside, the last time had been the Monday morning with Mulder in Cardiff. He and Mulder hadn't discussed their past, or their present, for the whole weekend which had made it easy for Alex to put out of his mind the future betrayal he knew was planned. It was Jack's mercy that they had had the weekend and Alex was thankful for it. He had received the discreet text from Ianto when he woke up - Jack was giving him the morning off and they would meet up for coffee after Mulder had checked out. Alex had spent the morning doing his damnedest to give Mulder a goodbye he couldn't forget, knowing all the while that Mulder wouldn't remember it for more than a few hours.
Then it had been sweat-slick skin, warm and soft under his hands, a comfy bed and a bottle of good wine rather than rumpled clothes, a hard floor and rum. At least it wouldn't be wiped from Ianto's mind. Would it have been better if Mulder had been able to remember, to have something good to add pain to their parting, and then had the option of finding solace, as Ianto was doing, rather the twilight feeling that memory alteration brought?
They moved together, Alex letting Ianto set the pace. This was what they both needed, Alex realised, thrusting harder at Ianto's silent prompting. Ianto wanted to get Jack out of his system and he needed to exorcize his own Mulder-shaped demons, at least until the next time he and Mulder crossed paths. Alex wondered who they were both fucking in their respective minds and decided it didn't matter.
Ianto fisted his cock in time with Alex's thrusts. Alex could see the movement of his right arm as it vanished under his body and it didn't take much thought to imagine what it must look like; hard flesh gripped firmly, the head slicked with pre-come as it slid between long, capable fingers. Alex increased his grip on Ianto's hips, making sure that balance wouldn't be a problem as tempo and force increased. It was easy to lose himself in the rhythm, in the tight heat of Ianto's body, in the feel of the silky skin under his hands and the scent of sex, sweat and drink that hung in a miasma around them. Ianto grunted as Alex pushed harder and deeper but drove back into each stroke, urging Alex on. There was no need or desire for sweet kisses now, even if they had been anatomically feasible; each of them was caught in their own web of sensation. Alex could feel the desire burn deep in his gut, a consuming thing that wanted everything that Ianto could give and more. It was not the frisson of conquest, not when the gift was so freely given, but the joy of the moment. It was messy, it was probably stupid and it was what it meant to be alive.
Ianto froze for a second mid-stroke, muscles clamping tight, before shoving back hard as something that was almost more a sob than an orgasm ripped from him. Release and reaffirmation; it was the most that they could hope for and Alex let himself welcome it as well, changing his thrusts as Ianto clenched around him to those that would speed his own completion. Ianto let his hand drop to the floor and Alex caught the white flash of material within it as, sides heaving, Ianto let his weight fall on to both arms and his head droop between them. When he had caught his breath, Alex withdrew carefully, sliding the condom off and knotting it before throwing it towards the wastepaper basket. It landed within a foot of his target which, at any other time, Alex would have deplored but no one had good aim immediately after coming.
"Fucking bastard," Ianto spat quietly but with feeling and Alex knew Ianto wasn't talking about him. Ianto looked a strangely pitiful sight now that both their passions were spent, still on all fours with his clothes rucked up and his head hanging down. Used, Alex thought, used and suddenly alone where only moments before he had been part of something more. Alex leant forward, bending over Ianto, and wrapped his arms around Ianto's chest, blanketing him as Ianto shook slightly. Alex wanted to say something comforting but that had never really been his style and he had no idea what to say or how Ianto would receive any platitudes that Alex could make. There were no words of wisdom, no magic spell to remake the world how either of them would have liked. That was the way things were, and Alex knew that Ianto understood that just as well as he did. It was just that sometimes, half way down a bottle, it caught you by the balls and squeezed hard and you either had to face it or drown the knowledge in the other half. Alex rested his forehead against the back of Ianto's neck and hoped Ianto heard what he couldn't say.
They stayed together for a moment, Alex draped over Ianto's back in a deniable embrace, until Ianto shifted slightly and Alex pulled himself back up so that Ianto could move. They separated reluctantly, reality bringing its rituals of clothing rearrangement and understanding re-negotiation. They performed the necessary physical manoeuvres in silence but moving as little as possible from their spots before slumping back down. The bottle of rum had been knocked over in their frenzy but it had been so empty that nothing had spilt. Alex picked it up and took a last mouthful before offering the remaining dribble to Ianto to finish. Ianto took it gratefully and downed it swiftly. An act of camaraderie to offset the awkwardness of the moment.
Ianto set the empty bottle on the floor besides them and spun it idly. It pointed off into the dark of the archives.
"I think that means you have to kiss Myfanwy," Alex told him.
Ianto smiled and Alex knew that what had happened would not change anything between them. He found himself glad that the measure of peace that they had found had not been at the expense of the slowly growing friendship between them. He held out his arm so that Ianto could lean against him if he chose. Ianto raised an eyebrow at the gesture but consented to let Alex put an arm around his shoulders with the obvious reservation that Alex shouldn't read too much into his acceptance projecting clearly from his body language.
"I'll get right on that when I can remember how to walk," Ianto agreed, a solid weight against Alex's side but much lighter and more welcome than the weight that was gone from his shoulders.
Alex hugged him closer, grateful that Ianto let him. As much as he would never admit it to certain FBI agents, the feel of someone warm and close against you in those minutes of post-coital bonhomie were special. More so when compared with the various alternatives that Alex was more used to. The floor might be cold and hard and his feelings for the man in his arms might be no more than a jumbled mix of friendship and sympathy, with just a little respect thrown in, but it was better than zipping up and legging it down the ally or slipping out of the threadbare motel room before respective bosses, partners and assorted others, who had way too much interest in your whereabouts, noticed that either of you had slipped the leash.
Ianto was someone Alex trusted not to shoot him in the back and, without Jack to give the order, not to retcon him without warning. He was attractive, fucked like a dream and Mulder was an ocean away.
"You want to go again some time?" The words 'when we are sober' did not need to be added aloud.
Ianto pulled a face. "It's a nice thought, but I think I've had enough of simple for a little while; it's too complicated."
Alex thought of Ianto's relationship with Jack.
"It doesn't have to be." After all, Alex wasn't a time-travelling con man with a military fetish. Although he was, admittedly, both a colleague and an assassin who was on at least one death list, which probably wasn't much of an improvement. Ianto rolled his eyes in disbelief but was mellow enough, thanks to either the sex or the rum, not to point out what they both knew.
"Maybe not - but it is with us," was all Ianto said. He looked over at Alex, a serious expression on his face. "If your Mulder turned up at the door and asked you to go with him then you would be out that door in a second."
Alex shrugged defeat at the challenge in Ianto's words and the raised eyebrow. Ianto was right and Alex wasn't going do him the discredit of pretending otherwise. If there was any saving grace in Jack's sudden departure it was that he had never lied to Ianto about what they had. At least, not intentionally. Alex thought of the strange man that he had bumped into in America and what he had said.
"He'll come back," Alex said softly, putting the pieces together and knowing it to be true.
"How do you know?" Ianto asked curiously. He looked at Alex with a cynical expression and Alex was reminded how much Ianto had seen over his years with Torchwood.
"I think I met that Doctor you mentioned." Ianto pulled away, staring at him in shock and something that Alex thought might be fear. "It didn't mean anything at the time, but he said a few things about Jack..."
"Was Jack..?" Ianto's voice sounded small, all that was left of his hope.
Alex shook his head "I didn't see him. The guy said he wasn't Jack's Doctor, not like Jack was your Jack, and that he hadn't seen him for a while."
Ianto laughed "My Jack?"
Alex shrugged.
"Did he say anything else?" Ianto was watching Alex closely as he spoke, suddenly sounding like the normal, efficient Ianto Jones that Alex was used to. Alex did not doubt that anything he said would become part of the official report but he wondered how much of Ianto's demeanour was habit and how much was a defence mechanism. He preferred it to the slightly lost note that had been in Ianto's voice not a minute before even if he did keep expecting Ianto to try and get up to retrieve paper and pen to take notes.
"He asked about Torchwood," Alex admitted. "Said maybe he would drop by one day." Alex found himself reluctant to talk about his own little side trip and what he and the Doctor had done. It wasn't like Torchwood didn't keep secrets from him, he reasoned. And it wasn't like it was any of Torchwood's business. "He said to tell you not to worry."
Ianto rolled his eyes. Alex could understand the sentiment.
"So, he'll be back. Sometime. Probably in my lifetime." Ianto thought about that. "Something to look forward to then," he said fliply.
"What will you do until then?"
"We keep going."
"I didn't mean the team."
Ianto shrugged. "Doesn't matter, really, does it? He'll come back when he's good and ready." His right hand fiddled randomly with the bottle, rolling it restlessly from one finger to another.
"That's it?" Alex asked, not entirely believing the professional dispassion that Ianto was displaying. Ianto couldn't be as sober and as unaffected as he was pretending, Alex certainly wasn't and no drunken shag was that good.
"The important thing is making sure he has something to come back to. Will you stay? I can handle the logistics, Tosh can do the same with the tech and Gwen can handle the general running of the place because, Lord knows, none of the rest of us want to, but when it comes to fieldwork...Owen has the most experience but he is going to need a little help."
Whatever had been bothering Ianto was gone. Alex was slightly taken aback by the shift. He had expected to be helping Ianto stagger home not planning the continuation of Torchwood in Jack's absence. Still, Ianto had found a purpose and Alex wasn't about to get in the way.
"I'll stay," he agreed.
"It will be all hands without Jack to help us, even with you here. I'll be needed in the field, won't I?"
"Probably." Alex ran through a few strategies in his mind. "Are you okay with that?"
Ianto was silent. "Did Jack tell you what happened at Torchwood One?" he said finally. Alex shook his head but he doubted that Ianto noted the gesture or anything else in the room. "When I wouldn't make the kill shot they tricked me, gave me false information about where the fatal spots were on some of the aliens. They thought when I had killed once I would get over my squeamishness. As it turned out, they were wrong."
"Shit," Alex muttered. His first kill had been easier than he liked to contemplate. Afterwards he had told himself it had been a life or death situation and he had chosen to go for life and pass the death option over to the other poor sap. It hadn't stopped his fears about why he had felt practically nothing over the fact he had taken a human life. He hoped it was shock because it was something he felt you should care about. However, while his hands weren't quite as bloody as Mulder liked to think, after the first five or six it had become even easier. Ianto wasn't like him though. He wasn't an adrenaline junky, wasn't a field agent and, most of all, wouldn't pull the trigger without remorse.
Ianto blinked and the blank look was replaced by one of determination. Alex felt a unpleasant suspicion begin to form in the back of his mind. Despite all the things that Ianto wasn't, Ianto wouldn't let his team mates down. "Can you to teach me to kill?"
Alex looked into Ianto's clear blue eyes and acknowledged that Ianto knew exactly what he was asking. Alex wanted to object but the objections sounded patronising and stupid even in his own head.
I'm sorry, Jack. Alex nodded once.
Author: fides
Pairing: Krycek/Ianto, (reference to Jack/Ianto & Mulder/Krycek)
Fandom: X-Files/Torchwood (and special cookies to anyone who can id the other fandom that gets hinted at)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Spoilers for End of Days
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine no matter what the little voices in my head might say ;-)
Sequal to 1. Plus Ça Change, 2. Hobson's Choice
Summary: After the events in End of Days, Ianto recalls Alex back from secondment in the US
Notes: I know that the timelines don't quite fit so I decided to fudge things a little because it was too tempting to compare Torchwood and the Consortium. This is set after the Movie (X-Files) and season 1 (Torchwood). In depth knowledge of both fandoms isn't required. Thanks to moth2fic for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are own.
"What happened, Ianto?" Alex felt the words leap from his throat before he had consciously formed them in his mind. He wasn't sure what it was about the people of Torchwood Three that they seemed able to surprise reactions out of him when no one else did. Alex had a strong suspicion that the answer lay in the rift putting out some sort of radiation that Tosh had yet to identify. It would explain a lot.
"Jack left." Ianto's voice was flat and he didn't bother to look up from the files he was staring at.
Alex felt the urge to slap the man just to force a reaction from him. He recognised the feeling from hundreds of times with Mulder and repressed it as he always did. There was enough violence in his job without adding to it just from frustration. Especially when there were other more effective responses.
"What happened?" Alex repeated carefully. It had been a long damn flight and he was tired. Even with the weight of the British Embassy behind him it had taken him the best part of two days to tie up the minimum loose ends and get from DC to Cardiff. He'd been greeted at Heathrow with a rather garbled message from Ianto that, Ianto's previous belief to the contrary, Jack had defied the odds and revived yet again, albeit belatedly. Alex's relief had been cut short by a second message that Jack had vanished. The grief that had weighed on Alex since Ianto had called him back from the States had been all Alex needed to realise that he had completely come to terms with the fact that Jack had lied to him. When it came down to it, Alex admitted to himself, he actually enjoyed working at Torchwood and, if that was what it took, he could live with Jack hiding information from him if Jack could live with him trying to find it out.
Ianto shrugged. "Short version: the rift was unstable. We thought tens of thousands of people were going to die if we didn't do something and Jack was just letting it happen. We all argued with him. Owen shot him."
Alex blinked. That was more brutal than he expected. The Consortium went in for promotion by merit of assassination but he hadn't thought that Torchwood would follow a similar policy, Gwen's recruitment aside. Of course given Jack was the boss any promotion prospects by those means would be temporary at best. Owen was hardly the first to shoot Jack, Alex had done it himself after all, and it caused more problems for the shooter than it did for Jack.
"But..?" Alex looked at Ianto's hunched back in confusion.
"Oh yes, he recovered, they all know about him now of course," Ianto continued dismissively, "but before he came back we had set the rift to open, briefly, so it could stabilise. We were wrong and he was right." Ianto's voice cracked slightly, the first indication Alex had had that Ianto's pose was more fragile than Ianto might have liked. "We released a monster and Jack stopped it... at the cost to his own life." Ianto turned towards him finally and he seemed little more than a cardboard cut out, the type of doll Alex's sisters had made to play with when they could not afford anything else. "We thought he had finally found something that could kill him permanently." That was when Ianto had phoned him Alex realised. He wondered how long it had been, hours stretching into days before Ianto gave up and called. Ianto met Alex's gaze squarely. "Only Gwen wouldn't accept it."
Judging by the way Ianto was acting, Alex thought he believed that that lack of patience was his greatest treachery. It was a stupid conceit but Alex knew Ianto wouldn't believe him if he told him so. Jack had taught his team to accept their losses, to understand that not everyone could be saved. It didn't surprise Alex that only Gwen, the newest recruit and the one who had suffered the least while part of the team, hadn't fully learnt that lesson yet and, therefore, had been the only one to hold on past hope and common sense. Alex could see the ghost of that time hiding in the glassiness of Ianto's eyes. It wasn't the first betrayal that damned you; it was when the first tiny hope for redemption was dashed, because it was only then that you realised that you had betrayed yourself. Alex had double-crossed many people many times and had done it without qualm or guilt, but in his own mind he had truly betrayed very few.
"But he did." Alex made a rising gesture with one hand.
Ianto nodded. That had been their chance to make amends, Alex thought, Jack back and forgiving them, because Alex knew Jack would forgive them. At least for their actions with the rift. That Owen wasn't dead was proof of that. Alex was at least fairly sure that Ianto would have mentioned if Owen wasn't in the picture any more.
"Your last message said he had vanished?" Alex prompted.
And that was the problem wasn't it? Back just long enough to give them hope that they could make up for their lack of faith and then gone before they could.
"Gone," Ianto agreed. "Don't know where."
"But he's coming back?" Alex could understand Jack's needing a little time away after what had happened. Alex might have to shoot him a little, now he knew it wouldn't be permanently fatal, as a gentle reminder about good management technique and why you should use it when dealing with an paramilitary group of oddballs. Or just about the advisability of leaving a note.
Ianto shook his head slowly. "I doubt it - he found his Doctor. That was all he was staying here for."
Ianto's surety struck Alex like a punch to the gut. He wanted to believe that that wasn't true. That all of Jack's talk about the importance of the work they were doing was more than a smokescreen to cover his true goal. Alex felt the bitter laugh well inside him and forced it down. What was he always telling Mulder? That there was no one truth. Jack might have had his own reasons, but he had taught Torchwood Three as he led and had given them the tools with which they could continue the fight without him. Maybe with the team's mutiny Jack had thought they were ready, or maybe the opportunity had just been too good to miss, but if Alex looked at the situation dispassionately it was clear that Jack had prepared them to continue without him. He'd had a lot of practice but he had never really got the hang of dispassion.
"But you two..?" Alex began, still not wanting to believe Jack had abandoned everything.
Ianto shrugged. "A bit of fun, for both of us, while he waited. He made that clear at the beginning and I wasn't looking for another commitment."
Alex looked at Ianto carefully. If that was how the two men wanted to live their lives then Alex certainly had no objections. He had, after all, benefited from the openness of their arrangement, but something in Ianto's voice wasn't quite ringing true. "You were okay with that?" he asked.
"Like you and Mulder," Ianto pointed out, "some things are what they are". Alex wasn't exactly happy about the situation with Mulder, but it didn't seem like the time to argue the point. Ianto looked away from whatever slipped through into Alex's expression. "Jack needed me for this place," he insisted quietly "but he needed the Doctor for everything else and he had to take his chance".
So that was the problem. Alex considered what Jack had told him of Ianto's devotion to the thing Ianto had believed was his girlfriend. After that experience Alex could definitely understand why something lighter and with little commitment would appeal. Alex had to wonder how long Ianto had managed to fool himself into thinking that that was all that he felt for Jack, probably right up until the moment Ianto had realised what he had lost. Alex was willing to accept that Ianto was right in his analysis of Jack's needs but he'd hadn't counted on his own. Jack had needed him in his own way and Ianto was used to being needed; the result should have been obvious. When Jack had found what he was looking for and had left, unknowingly or not, he had left behind someone who had needed him in return. Not that Ianto was likely to admit as such, not when it was still true enough to sting. Now it was too late and Ianto was having to face the triple burden of his own feelings and Jack's departure without either a goodbye or an opportunity for Ianto to make things right between them in Ianto's mind. Alex knew only too well how that felt.
"Is there anything I can do?"
A flicker of a real smile appeared on Ianto's face. "I once promised Jack I wouldn't drink alone."
That wasn't a promise that Alex would ever have made himself, but if Ianto wanted a drinking buddy then Alex was there for him. He looked Ianto over; the man didn't look like he had been eating properly. Alex estimated he could drink Ianto under the desk and then get him home without any difficultly. The alcohol would probably put up more of a fight than Ianto would.
"What's your poison?" Alex asked. He knew Jack had some good Scotch in his office and Owen had a bottle of something best used for drain cleaner in his bottom drawer. Alex figured it would be a good sign if Ianto was willing to raid Jack's supply, although Alex didn't think it likely yet. He was more worried that Ianto had gone for Owen's rotgut which was tantamount to a suicide attempt on a good day. Alex had drunk worse, but only just, and that had been more for its anaesthetic properties than by choice.
Ianto reached down beside the desk he had been working at. He held up a bottle and shrugged. It was clearly unopened and Alex was struck by the uncomfortable feeling that Ianto had just been waiting for him to arrive before climbing into it. The snap as Ianto broke the seal was the crack of a neck breaking rather than the pop of a cork. Ianto took a long pull at the bottle, pulling a slight face as the alcohol hit, and passed the bottle to Alex. Alex peered at the label. "Mount Gay rum?"
Ianto looked faintly embarrassed but just shrugged again and Alex didn't ask. He took his own swig and passed the bottle back. It was good rum, Alex had to admit, but that didn't stop it trying to rip his throat out on the way down. For years he hadn't drunk neat spirits but somewhere along the way he had come to appreciate drinks that had a bit of attitude. If nothing else, you certainly knew you were alive when you drank them.
They swapped the bottle between them a few times, Ianto sitting at his desk and Alex leaning against it. Thinking he might as well cut to the chase, Alex noted a suitable spot nearby and wandered over; sinking down to the floor with his back to one of the shelves of boxes he made himself comfortable. If he could get Ianto to join him then it would be less far for the other man to fall later and, judging by the dent that Ianto was making in the rum, Alex didn't think he was going to stop until he physically had to. Really Alex was doing him a favour drinking his own share.
From his position in the stacks, Alex looked up at Ianto.
"Thanks for arranging to have my gun sent over," he broke the silence that was threatening to descend on them.
Ianto walked over to sit down beside him, nodding acknowledgment of the thanks. "What are you doing about bringing it back?"
Alex patted his side where his holster nestled, full but concealed under his jacket.
"Nicholas arranged for it to go back with me through diplomatic channels." Alex took the bottle, idly noticing that between them they were making the level drop faster than he had expected before he passed it back. Ianto was beginning to relax, the alcohol slowly softening the steel bar he had been using as a backbone and causing a slight flush that brought colour back into his pale cheeks. The result was that he looked younger and more human.
As Alex watched, Ianto took two deep swallows from the bottle, shaking his head slightly to clear the taste, before offering it across. Another couple of shots with those measures and he would probably be feeling more human as well. Human and drunk, but definitely human.
"What did you think of Nicholas?" Ianto asked. Alex wasn't sure if it was simple curiosity or professional interest. It would be the first time that he had been debriefed while half-cut and sitting on the floor but he was back at Torchwood and if it was ever going to happen, then that would be the place.
"Efficient." Alex said taking a swig. He stared at the warm brown liquid for a moment, remembering. "Dangerous. Intelligent." He paused deliberately, weighing up Ianto's response to his comments, and handed the rum over. "Fucking hot," he finished.
Ianto toasted Alex's characterisation. "Did you?" He grinned in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Jack.
"Did I what?" Alex asked, a little disconcerted by the evidence of Jack's influence when they were drinking to his departure. Even in the archives, which were indisputably Ianto's domain, Jack's presence seemed noticeable in its absence. Jack had made it very easy to believe he was a permanent part of the Hub, something reliable and unchanging against which the madness of their job could be put into perspective. Alex had recognised 'The Captain' as another player as soon as they met but he had allowed himself to be conned by Jack because he needed a better lie to cling to. And all the while Jack had just been waiting to leave.
"Fuck him," Ianto enunciated carefully and for a moment Alex wondered if Ianto was somehow reading his thoughts. Then Ianto giggled slightly and Alex realised what, and who, he meant. The memory of the secret agent grinned crookedly in his mind. Alex shifted slightly, finding a more comfortable position as a few other thoughts joined the first: the thrill of fighting side by side with a competent partner, the down times when they had worked out together, the power in that lithe figure, the way his sweat pants hung on his hips as if they didn't want to surrender contact with the fine body they concealed. But in DC Mulder was always present and Alex hadn't felt like a threesome.
"No." Alex looked over at Ianto, curious. "You?"
"No."
They looked at each other for a moment. It was the rum, Alex knew, the rum and too much emotion on not enough sleep, but all of a sudden the fact that both of them had been well-behaved on their respective trips to Washington was the funniest thing in the world. It wasn't funny at all really. If Alex's reckoning was correct then Ianto would have been more likely to suck off a gun than seduce a secret agent on his visit and Alex had had his own damn trouble and strife in the form of Mulder and cohorts getting in his face, one way or another, for most of the trip. Still, that they could have had they wanted to was a nice fantasy that they could tell themselves and each other.
"So we're both idiots then." Alex concluded. Ianto drank to the sentiment and then passed the bottle over so Alex could do the same.
"I think Jack had a thing with him back when Nicholas was in the army," Ianto said idly after a few minutes' thought and a few more exchanges of the bottle.
Alex considered that. He wasn't sure how Ianto was feeling, but his brain was feeling slightly disconnected from the rest of him and even shallow thoughts were having to fight their way upstream again the prevailing tide of Barbados' finest. Alex snickered. A commissioned Nicholas would certainly fit in with Jack's military fetish and gave a whole new meaning to inter-service cooperation. It was harder to imagine Nicholas going for Jack but Alex refused to believe that anyone really was that contained 24-7. Behind closed doors...
Alex grinned. "I think he is having a thing with the Ambassador."
"What, Jack?" Ianto looked at him confused and a little blearily.
"No, Nicholas." Alex stole the rum.
"Really?" Ianto looked at his hand where the rum wasn't as if he was trying to work out what was missing. Obviously deciding it wasn't important he looked back at Alex. "He and the Merkin Undersecretary of Defence..." Ianto winked, tapping one finger against his nose. At least in Alex's opinion, that was probably what he was trying to do. No one in Alex's experience tried to screw up their face and just miss poking themselves in the eye on purpose.
Alex took a swig in celebration. Not only was he less drunk the Ianto, even if it was a matter of degrees, but he had called it about Nicholas. He had no idea who the secretary was about whom Ianto was talking, but that didn't matter, he wasn't completely convinced Ianto knew at that exact second either. The conversation had become a little confused somewhere along the way. Or possibly it was just him. Alex wasn't even sure Ianto wasn't back to talking about Jack, who would definitely go for a secretary if one was available and attractive, rather than about Nicholas. Nicholas: all well behaved in public but in private it was backroom assignations and something. Alex couldn't quite remember what the something was but it was definitely something. It always was. As far as he could tell, old Smokey had been a randy son of a bitch in his day and Alex had his own private suspicions about Skinner's off-the-clock activities even if he hadn't managed to get the photos to prove it yet. He told Ianto that.
Ianto looked at him guilelessly. "What about your Mr Mulder? Bet you've got pictures of that."
"Nooo," Alex said mournfully. "Unless you took stills from the security footage when he came visiting here."
"Wiped it." Ianto was either too drunk or too brazen to bother trying to pretend he didn't know what Alex was talking about. Jack's influence again, Alex thought, although he had no proof of that. For all he knew Ianto could have been the school slut and than shagged his way though university while keeping all around him entertained with stories of his liaisons. It didn't really seem likely though. Ianto wasn't a choirboy but he wasn't Jack either. If he was, then Ianto wouldn't be sitting on a cold floor getting shitfaced with a spy, assassin and general rat-bastard - although Alex was working on the last part slowly. He missed Mulder. Why did the idiot have to be so determined to expose everything? Jack might have been persuaded not to retcon him if he had been willing to go along with the way things had to be.
"S'shame," Alex mused aloud. And it was. It would have been so nice to throw the pictures in Mulder's face next time he decided to have a go. "Be interesting to see what he made of evidence of that kind of close encounter."
Mulder'd probably conclude they were faked, Alex decided glumly. Or that he had been drugged and Alex was taking advantage of him. Alex wondered if Mulder would buy that they had both been drugged, both acting against their will. Alex was sure he could come up with some plausible sob story about his memory returning and his confusion and had Mulder meant what he said because that was the only way Alex could deal with what had happened... It had definite possibilities. He would have to make an effort to get pictorial evidence next time. Nothing too Adult Channel, it wouldn't do to frighten the poor boy, but enough to make it very clear what was happening. And Mulder on top like the sweet, shiny cherry on the sundae. Alex smiled and reached down to adjust himself. Obviously he wasn't that drunk and they were nearly out of rum.
"Did you see Mulder at all?" Ianto wondered "While you were in C.D., I mean."
"Not productively." Alex sighed. "I did discover that I screwed up his life even more than even I had realised - so the trip wasn't a total waste of time. You can call off the search for his sister by the way."
"So no happy reunions?" Ianto sounded mournful. Desperate for a counter-example to his own screwed up relationships, Alex supposed. And you would have to be desperate to look towards him and Mulder as setting any sort of example except for a bad, avoid at all cost, don't-do-it-like-this one. They were both getting much too maudlin; if they got much further down that route they would be crying on each other's shoulders. Alex might be willing to concede he wasn't entirely sober but he definitely wasn't that drunk.
"No happy anything," Alex admitted. "I was disgustingly well behaved. You need to send me right back so I can screw a senator or two. Nicholas can use the pictures for blackmail or just for his own private use. What do you think?"
"You want Torchwood to pay for you to fly to America just so you can get laid with a political figure?" Ianto frowned slightly as he thought this through carefully. "Wouldn't it be cheaper to hop over to Geneva and corrupt a few generals? Much more useful next time we need UNIT cooperation."
There was something scary about the way Ianto's mind worked. It wasn't that he seemed to be seriously considering the idea, it was that he was still thinking about the job. Not that Alex was going to object if there was even a small chance of a paid-for dirty weekend in a nice hotel.
"Sounds like a plan! Let's both go."
Ianto laughed, the action causing him to slumped further down the wall and slightly against Alex. He was warm through the fine material of his suit and Alex, after a few tries, slung his arm over Ianto's shoulder in a companionly way. Alex wasn't sure he had seen Ianto so... undone. Even the time on the roof, Ianto had remained perfectly composed. Alex wondered how many people got to see this Ianto, softer and almost as young as his years suggested he should be.
"Last one to fuck a field marshal files the expense reports," Alex coaxed.
"It's what Jack would have wanted," Ianto agreed solemnly before bursting out laughing again. He stopped suddenly, hearing what he had said. Alex worried for a second but then Ianto grinned. "He always used to say captains gave the best head though."
Alex rocked his free hand from side to side. "Top ten," he conceded, "maybe top five."
"Definitely top five," Ianto defended.
Alex pulled a face "At this point I'd probably acknowledge Owen sex-god of the universe if he put out. You know what they say about hunger being the best flavouring."
"It can't have been that long," Ianto disagreed.
Alex laughed. "I did have this assignation just before I went to the States." Ianto's eyes grew larger as he did the maths. "Didn't put out though. All I got was one lousy hand job and then he sent me out of town. Story of my life. Still at least he called..." Alex continued remorselessly, "eventually."
"No, no, no," Ianto chuckled, shaking his head in denial.
"Yes," Alex insisted.
Ianto mock-glared at him. "My hand jobs are not lousy."
The words 'prove it' hovered on the tip of Alex's tongue which was silly because Ianto had proved it, and quite conclusively. The frown on Ianto's face became one of thought rather than annoyance as if he had heard the words that Alex hadn't said. Even drunk, Ianto was too observant by half and Alex tried to think of something to say to divert him. His normal cryptic hints about aliens or conspiracies wouldn't work nearly so well on Ianto as they did on Mulder and, as they were half foreplay anyway, would be no help whatsoever.
Alex didn't even think about resisting as Ianto reached over to cradle his head and pull him down for a kiss. It started off gently, a tease and a question, and Alex answered both in the only way he could think of. Ianto's mouth still held the burn of the rum they had been drinking and the warmth of it flowed through him to pool in his groin. The arm he had around Ianto's shoulders suddenly became a means to pull Ianto closer, Ianto's fingers brushing through his short hair as Ianto fought to do the same. Something fierce had been conjured between them, whether from shared anger, sorrow, frustration or simple inebriation Alex didn't know or care. Alex suspected Ianto hadn't intended more than a light kiss, a physical reaffirmation after Jack's desertion that Ianto Jones was still present, desirable and everything he had presumably been before Jack. Like all plans that notion had not survived first contact.
They pulled apart reluctantly, breathing hard and looking at each other for some clue as to what had just happened. Ianto's eyes seemed wide within a shocked expression that Alex was more used to seeing on Mulder's face. There was something very appealing in the look: hair mussed and cheeks flushed as much, Alex liked to think, from the kiss as from the alcohol. Ianto's mouth hung slightly open, lips plump and slick from the kiss and inviting more. Alex doubted he looked any less debauched from the way Ianto's gaze kept flicking down and over his own mouth.
"I'll cancel those tickets to Geneva, shall I?" Ianto asked.
"Send Tosh and Owen; they need them more," Alex agreed.
That was all it took before the were kissing again; the deep, gulping kisses with which a drowning man greets the air. Ianto's hands shaped Alex's body, caressing leather, denim and skin with equal fervour. Alex returned the rough caresses, enjoying the tempting feel of the strong body beneath the layers of office formality.
"Fuck me," Ianto managed between kisses, sounding more sober than he had since they started drinking.
Alex pulled back enough to look at Ianto properly. The suit he wore like a second skin looked wrong on him, the trappings of civilisation a mockery of the wild creature they contained. It wasn't the Ianto that Alex was used to and Alex didn't think it was just the alcohol. Alex recognised the mood; reckless, freeing and cathartic. Afterwards, you never knew which you regretted more, what you did or that you had stopped.
Alex didn't know why he was asking, because he had no doubt Ianto knew what he wanted. "You sure?"
"Very." There was a time for finesse, but there was also a time for hard, mindless sex. Alex found he had been completely convinced by the case for the latter that Ianto was making with every touch.
The next few minutes were a disorganised scrabble on their knees as Ianto fought to shove his trousers and boxers down while barely having released his fly and Alex tried to push the tails of Ianto's shirt and jacket out of the way with one hand while working at his own jeans with the other. The heavier material of the Ianto's jacket resisted his attempts with contrary stubbornness.
"Jacket off." Alex panted. Ianto froze for a moment, looking at him with a confused expression. "Jacket," Alex repeated, tugging the offending garment, "off."
Ianto hastily complied, pulling it off quickly and dropping next to him where it could offer a little extra padding between his arms and the floor as he turned parallel to the shelves and bent over.
Freed of the constraining jacket, Alex was able to push Ianto's shirt up above his waist. It bunched untidily in the small of his back and under his arms but they were past any aesthetic considerations. Alex ran his hands over the body revealed. Cardiff weather and a job spent mostly underground did not allow much opportunity for nude sunbathing so Alex figured that, even with his America jaunt, his arse was probably nearly as pale as Ianto's, but in comparison to his Washington sun-tanned hands Ianto's skin looked positively creamy. Alex checked himself as his thoughts started drifting towards English roses - Ianto was neither English nor a delicate flower, thorns excepted. He did, however, give in to the impulse to set his lips and tongue to the tempting flesh. Alex caught Ianto's hips, fingers curving forwards following the curve of the bone and pulled the other man up towards him. The hobble of Ianto's trousers prevented Alex from doing much more than showing intent and giving Ianto stubble-burn but Alex wasn't going to let minor details like that stop him from licking, nipping and sucking every part of Ianto that he could conceivably get his mouth to.
Ianto growled encouragement and tried to both keep still and get his trousers down past his knees so he could spread his legs further but was thwarted by the position in which he was kneeling.
"Damn it," Ianto muttered, "this is the problem with spontaneity."
Alex chuckled against one cheek. Both hearing and feeling him, Ianto looked around and aimed a light cuff with the back of his hand at Alex's shoulder. "Not funny," he said.
"Aww," Alex sympathised, straightening up and sliding his hands up, under the bunched front of Ianto's shirt to pull Ianto up and back against him. His erection was caught between their bodies, sending a delicious frisson through him; so close to what they both wanted but not there yet. Alex cautioned himself that it could be all too easily as he savoured the slide and pressure of the spit-slicked skin. Ianto moved against him, teasing and encouraging, while Alex took advantage of their new position to explore the man in front of him.
Wherever Alex touched, Ianto's skin radiated heat as if the alcohol he had drunk was burning its way from his body. Ianto turned his head and Alex couldn't resist the offered kiss as he ran his hands down Ianto's chest, pinching his nipples when the rough brush of palms evoked an instant response. Alex's fingers carded through the hair on Ianto's chest, enjoying the way it brushed and curled around his fingers. It wasn't that he had a particular thing for chest hair, it was just that, of the last two men he had slept with, Mulder had a grand total of five hairs on his chest, total, and he suspected that Jack waxed. None of the women, he was pleased to recall, had any.
Not that he and Jack had managed to shed enough clothes for him to confirm that at the time, but Jack wasn't exactly body-shy and Alex hadn't been at Torchwood long before an incident involving some unpleasantly fragrant alien excretion had had all of them running for the showers and shedding clothes as fast as their own senses of decency had allowed. None of them had been wearing much more than socks by the time they hit the corridor leading to the bathrooms. Only Ianto hadn't been there and so hadn't been afflicted, although cleaning up after them all was perhaps a worse fate.
Alex let his right hand sweep lower in its caress, over the slightly rounded stomach that spoke of long hours in the archive rather than out in the field and further, thumb running down the trail of hair that led from navel to groin. Alex deliberately ignored the hard cock that stretched up as if towards his touch, only the thumb hooking around the root as he lightly cupped Ianto's balls, rolling them gently with his fingers. Ianto growled against his mouth, breaking the kiss, and pushing back against Alex's erection.
"I know you were 'hungry'," Ianto objected, "but when did this go from being a quick snack to a bloody banquet?
Alex smiled, nipping the side of Ianto's neck. "When I saw the menu."
"Well," Ianto said drily, "it's time for the main course. Unless you'd prefer to call for take out."
Alex decided that any comments about really going for some balls would probably result in him not only losing the first guaranteed fuck he'd been offered since Ianto had retconned Mulder but also the body parts in question.
"Are you always this demanding?" Alex asked.
Ianto grinned and Alex had a sudden suspicion that he hadn't even began to see demanding. Saying nothing, Ianto leant backwards against him, head resting on Alex' shoulder and body arched slightly so the Alex had a perfect view down the line of his body to the subtly jutting hips. Ignoring the hand that Alex had wrapped around his testicles, Ianto reached for his own erection and drew his hand up it slowly from base to tip. His breathy moan echoed in Alex's ear. Equally slowly, Ianto brought his hand back down until it rested on Alex's. Alex watched fascinated as he repeated the gesture. He'd spent enough time in Europe and Asia that the presence of the foreskin sliding over the head of Ianto's cock as Ianto's action pulled on the skin was unremarkable; it was the sheer abandoned delight that Ianto was taking in that action that gripped him. Alex was absolutely positive that Ianto was just as aware of him as he was of Ianto, but the man acted as if there was nobody there but his own desires and the indulgent way he entertained those desires was breathtaking. .
"Were you planning on joining in?" Ianto whispered.
Alex blinked, half-mesmerised by the rhythmic movement of Ianto's fist. "How the hell did Jack leave this?" he asked without thinking.
Ianto laughed throatily. "Not everything is about sex." As his hand reached the bottom of the stroke he let go and let it thread over Alex's, drawing their joined hands down to tug on his balls. "This is, however."
Alex had no answer for that except to free his hand and bring both up to Ianto's head to draw him back into a long kiss.
"So are you going to fuck me now?" Ianto asked as the kiss finally broke. "Or should I just keep going?"
Alex mentally patted himself down; he had condoms in his wallet, more in tradition than in hope of use, but nothing that could be used as slick.
"Stuff?" Alex gasped. Spit and rum might work, but Ianto wasn't Mulder and Alex still had just enough rational thought left to realise that it probably wasn't a good idea for their first time. And that Ianto would probably go for it if given the suggestion which was why he wasn't mentioning it. Ianto might not care if he could sit comfortably in the morning but Alex didn't want to be holding his dick gingerly the next time he needed a piss. Their respective heads when the hangover kicked in were going to be enough for them to deal with.
Ianto muttered something uncomplimentary that Alex chose not to hear. Raising his voice, Ianto directed, "Lower desk draw. Look in the kit."
Alex raised an eyebrow and forbore from asking. There probably was a totally reasonable explanation as to why Ianto had lubricant in his desk drawer but Alex didn't want to know what it was - the unreasonable explanations were so much more fun to imagine. His cock bobbed stupidly from his open trousers as he hurried to the desk and he thanked providence that he was wearing button rather than zip flies. The sensation of cold air after the welcoming warmth of Ianto's body pushed him to hurry almost as much as the thoughts of what awaited him upon success. He turned back to check with Ianto he had the right drawer only to find that Ianto was watching him closely, an appreciative smirk on his face as he idly played with himself. That was enough to send Alex diving into the drawer with renewed haste. The field kit was easy enough to find, for which Alex was duly grateful, and it did not take him long to locate a tube marked as lubricant and confirm it was latex-safe.
Alex crossed back to where Ianto waited and collected a rough but swift kiss in reward. His cock jumped as, with a wink, Ianto settled back onto knees and elbows. Alex rolled the condom on quickly, knowing he wouldn't want to take the time later. The lube was cold on his fingers and he considered warming it for a moment before deciding that he owed Ianto for the little display he had put on. Ianto swore as Alex pushed the first finger into him but Alex didn't miss the way he also pushed back into the touch.
"More?" Alex asked unnecessarily.
He took Ianto's eloquent glare over his shoulder as a 'yes' and continued, adding another finger and more lube. There was something powerful and magical in the way that the living body reacted to stimulation, the way muscles tightened and released in response to touch, the little sounds of pleasure that broke free, the squirming demands, threats and pleas... Alex had never actively enjoyed torture, except in the purely consensual sense, but there had always been something darkly satisfying in making your partner beg. Or at least that had been true with Mulder. He had thought that Ianto would be the same but seeing Ianto so uninhibited and wanting, Alex found it wasn't within him to deny that need any longer than physically necessary. Or possibly, Alex had to concede, it was his own need that he couldn't deny.
"Ianto," he warned.
"Do it," Ianto pleaded.
Alex positioned himself and pushed forward carefully, feeling Ianto brace his body against Alex's thrust. Alex stroked his hands over Ianto's back, enjoying the sweet moment as Ianto's body accepted his within it. Ianto arched into first stroke with a soft sigh which Alex echoed.
Hand jobs (his own or other people's) aside, the last time had been the Monday morning with Mulder in Cardiff. He and Mulder hadn't discussed their past, or their present, for the whole weekend which had made it easy for Alex to put out of his mind the future betrayal he knew was planned. It was Jack's mercy that they had had the weekend and Alex was thankful for it. He had received the discreet text from Ianto when he woke up - Jack was giving him the morning off and they would meet up for coffee after Mulder had checked out. Alex had spent the morning doing his damnedest to give Mulder a goodbye he couldn't forget, knowing all the while that Mulder wouldn't remember it for more than a few hours.
Then it had been sweat-slick skin, warm and soft under his hands, a comfy bed and a bottle of good wine rather than rumpled clothes, a hard floor and rum. At least it wouldn't be wiped from Ianto's mind. Would it have been better if Mulder had been able to remember, to have something good to add pain to their parting, and then had the option of finding solace, as Ianto was doing, rather the twilight feeling that memory alteration brought?
They moved together, Alex letting Ianto set the pace. This was what they both needed, Alex realised, thrusting harder at Ianto's silent prompting. Ianto wanted to get Jack out of his system and he needed to exorcize his own Mulder-shaped demons, at least until the next time he and Mulder crossed paths. Alex wondered who they were both fucking in their respective minds and decided it didn't matter.
Ianto fisted his cock in time with Alex's thrusts. Alex could see the movement of his right arm as it vanished under his body and it didn't take much thought to imagine what it must look like; hard flesh gripped firmly, the head slicked with pre-come as it slid between long, capable fingers. Alex increased his grip on Ianto's hips, making sure that balance wouldn't be a problem as tempo and force increased. It was easy to lose himself in the rhythm, in the tight heat of Ianto's body, in the feel of the silky skin under his hands and the scent of sex, sweat and drink that hung in a miasma around them. Ianto grunted as Alex pushed harder and deeper but drove back into each stroke, urging Alex on. There was no need or desire for sweet kisses now, even if they had been anatomically feasible; each of them was caught in their own web of sensation. Alex could feel the desire burn deep in his gut, a consuming thing that wanted everything that Ianto could give and more. It was not the frisson of conquest, not when the gift was so freely given, but the joy of the moment. It was messy, it was probably stupid and it was what it meant to be alive.
Ianto froze for a second mid-stroke, muscles clamping tight, before shoving back hard as something that was almost more a sob than an orgasm ripped from him. Release and reaffirmation; it was the most that they could hope for and Alex let himself welcome it as well, changing his thrusts as Ianto clenched around him to those that would speed his own completion. Ianto let his hand drop to the floor and Alex caught the white flash of material within it as, sides heaving, Ianto let his weight fall on to both arms and his head droop between them. When he had caught his breath, Alex withdrew carefully, sliding the condom off and knotting it before throwing it towards the wastepaper basket. It landed within a foot of his target which, at any other time, Alex would have deplored but no one had good aim immediately after coming.
"Fucking bastard," Ianto spat quietly but with feeling and Alex knew Ianto wasn't talking about him. Ianto looked a strangely pitiful sight now that both their passions were spent, still on all fours with his clothes rucked up and his head hanging down. Used, Alex thought, used and suddenly alone where only moments before he had been part of something more. Alex leant forward, bending over Ianto, and wrapped his arms around Ianto's chest, blanketing him as Ianto shook slightly. Alex wanted to say something comforting but that had never really been his style and he had no idea what to say or how Ianto would receive any platitudes that Alex could make. There were no words of wisdom, no magic spell to remake the world how either of them would have liked. That was the way things were, and Alex knew that Ianto understood that just as well as he did. It was just that sometimes, half way down a bottle, it caught you by the balls and squeezed hard and you either had to face it or drown the knowledge in the other half. Alex rested his forehead against the back of Ianto's neck and hoped Ianto heard what he couldn't say.
They stayed together for a moment, Alex draped over Ianto's back in a deniable embrace, until Ianto shifted slightly and Alex pulled himself back up so that Ianto could move. They separated reluctantly, reality bringing its rituals of clothing rearrangement and understanding re-negotiation. They performed the necessary physical manoeuvres in silence but moving as little as possible from their spots before slumping back down. The bottle of rum had been knocked over in their frenzy but it had been so empty that nothing had spilt. Alex picked it up and took a last mouthful before offering the remaining dribble to Ianto to finish. Ianto took it gratefully and downed it swiftly. An act of camaraderie to offset the awkwardness of the moment.
Ianto set the empty bottle on the floor besides them and spun it idly. It pointed off into the dark of the archives.
"I think that means you have to kiss Myfanwy," Alex told him.
Ianto smiled and Alex knew that what had happened would not change anything between them. He found himself glad that the measure of peace that they had found had not been at the expense of the slowly growing friendship between them. He held out his arm so that Ianto could lean against him if he chose. Ianto raised an eyebrow at the gesture but consented to let Alex put an arm around his shoulders with the obvious reservation that Alex shouldn't read too much into his acceptance projecting clearly from his body language.
"I'll get right on that when I can remember how to walk," Ianto agreed, a solid weight against Alex's side but much lighter and more welcome than the weight that was gone from his shoulders.
Alex hugged him closer, grateful that Ianto let him. As much as he would never admit it to certain FBI agents, the feel of someone warm and close against you in those minutes of post-coital bonhomie were special. More so when compared with the various alternatives that Alex was more used to. The floor might be cold and hard and his feelings for the man in his arms might be no more than a jumbled mix of friendship and sympathy, with just a little respect thrown in, but it was better than zipping up and legging it down the ally or slipping out of the threadbare motel room before respective bosses, partners and assorted others, who had way too much interest in your whereabouts, noticed that either of you had slipped the leash.
Ianto was someone Alex trusted not to shoot him in the back and, without Jack to give the order, not to retcon him without warning. He was attractive, fucked like a dream and Mulder was an ocean away.
"You want to go again some time?" The words 'when we are sober' did not need to be added aloud.
Ianto pulled a face. "It's a nice thought, but I think I've had enough of simple for a little while; it's too complicated."
Alex thought of Ianto's relationship with Jack.
"It doesn't have to be." After all, Alex wasn't a time-travelling con man with a military fetish. Although he was, admittedly, both a colleague and an assassin who was on at least one death list, which probably wasn't much of an improvement. Ianto rolled his eyes in disbelief but was mellow enough, thanks to either the sex or the rum, not to point out what they both knew.
"Maybe not - but it is with us," was all Ianto said. He looked over at Alex, a serious expression on his face. "If your Mulder turned up at the door and asked you to go with him then you would be out that door in a second."
Alex shrugged defeat at the challenge in Ianto's words and the raised eyebrow. Ianto was right and Alex wasn't going do him the discredit of pretending otherwise. If there was any saving grace in Jack's sudden departure it was that he had never lied to Ianto about what they had. At least, not intentionally. Alex thought of the strange man that he had bumped into in America and what he had said.
"He'll come back," Alex said softly, putting the pieces together and knowing it to be true.
"How do you know?" Ianto asked curiously. He looked at Alex with a cynical expression and Alex was reminded how much Ianto had seen over his years with Torchwood.
"I think I met that Doctor you mentioned." Ianto pulled away, staring at him in shock and something that Alex thought might be fear. "It didn't mean anything at the time, but he said a few things about Jack..."
"Was Jack..?" Ianto's voice sounded small, all that was left of his hope.
Alex shook his head "I didn't see him. The guy said he wasn't Jack's Doctor, not like Jack was your Jack, and that he hadn't seen him for a while."
Ianto laughed "My Jack?"
Alex shrugged.
"Did he say anything else?" Ianto was watching Alex closely as he spoke, suddenly sounding like the normal, efficient Ianto Jones that Alex was used to. Alex did not doubt that anything he said would become part of the official report but he wondered how much of Ianto's demeanour was habit and how much was a defence mechanism. He preferred it to the slightly lost note that had been in Ianto's voice not a minute before even if he did keep expecting Ianto to try and get up to retrieve paper and pen to take notes.
"He asked about Torchwood," Alex admitted. "Said maybe he would drop by one day." Alex found himself reluctant to talk about his own little side trip and what he and the Doctor had done. It wasn't like Torchwood didn't keep secrets from him, he reasoned. And it wasn't like it was any of Torchwood's business. "He said to tell you not to worry."
Ianto rolled his eyes. Alex could understand the sentiment.
"So, he'll be back. Sometime. Probably in my lifetime." Ianto thought about that. "Something to look forward to then," he said fliply.
"What will you do until then?"
"We keep going."
"I didn't mean the team."
Ianto shrugged. "Doesn't matter, really, does it? He'll come back when he's good and ready." His right hand fiddled randomly with the bottle, rolling it restlessly from one finger to another.
"That's it?" Alex asked, not entirely believing the professional dispassion that Ianto was displaying. Ianto couldn't be as sober and as unaffected as he was pretending, Alex certainly wasn't and no drunken shag was that good.
"The important thing is making sure he has something to come back to. Will you stay? I can handle the logistics, Tosh can do the same with the tech and Gwen can handle the general running of the place because, Lord knows, none of the rest of us want to, but when it comes to fieldwork...Owen has the most experience but he is going to need a little help."
Whatever had been bothering Ianto was gone. Alex was slightly taken aback by the shift. He had expected to be helping Ianto stagger home not planning the continuation of Torchwood in Jack's absence. Still, Ianto had found a purpose and Alex wasn't about to get in the way.
"I'll stay," he agreed.
"It will be all hands without Jack to help us, even with you here. I'll be needed in the field, won't I?"
"Probably." Alex ran through a few strategies in his mind. "Are you okay with that?"
Ianto was silent. "Did Jack tell you what happened at Torchwood One?" he said finally. Alex shook his head but he doubted that Ianto noted the gesture or anything else in the room. "When I wouldn't make the kill shot they tricked me, gave me false information about where the fatal spots were on some of the aliens. They thought when I had killed once I would get over my squeamishness. As it turned out, they were wrong."
"Shit," Alex muttered. His first kill had been easier than he liked to contemplate. Afterwards he had told himself it had been a life or death situation and he had chosen to go for life and pass the death option over to the other poor sap. It hadn't stopped his fears about why he had felt practically nothing over the fact he had taken a human life. He hoped it was shock because it was something he felt you should care about. However, while his hands weren't quite as bloody as Mulder liked to think, after the first five or six it had become even easier. Ianto wasn't like him though. He wasn't an adrenaline junky, wasn't a field agent and, most of all, wouldn't pull the trigger without remorse.
Ianto blinked and the blank look was replaced by one of determination. Alex felt a unpleasant suspicion begin to form in the back of his mind. Despite all the things that Ianto wasn't, Ianto wouldn't let his team mates down. "Can you to teach me to kill?"
Alex looked into Ianto's clear blue eyes and acknowledged that Ianto knew exactly what he was asking. Alex wanted to object but the objections sounded patronising and stupid even in his own head.
I'm sorry, Jack. Alex nodded once.