Archive of Our Own

Jack sank back into the lumpy couch and felt the tension slowly drain from his muscles. He sighed – a long, contented breath – then let his head fall to the side to look at Ianto. The other man's eyes were closed, but he was far from relaxed. Jack could see the twitch in his eyelids, could see his lashes fluttering against soft, fragile skin that seemed permanently stained dark these days. Ianto was thinking, neatly labeling and compartmentalising everything that had happened since Jack's return into the appropriate drawer in his mind and slapping a great big padlock on it.

Jack was tempted to let him go right ahead, to ignore what was happening between them because this was the fork in the road. This was where they made the choice between continuing on in the same direction they had been traveling since that memorable night with the stopwatch, or taking the chance on an untried, unknown path that was far more emotionally precarious than the familiar route.

Jack knew he'd have to be the one to take the first step here because he had left, he had deserted his team – Ianto – without a word of explanation, and he was the one who had returned with a year of perspective and half-formed plans for change. Ianto was angry – no matter how well he managed to hide it - and hurt and wary, and he didn't trust Jack enough yet to be the one to take the lead.

He owed it to Ianto to be the first.

The problem was that his heart and his head were leading him in different directions. He'd given up on relationships after Estelle. Not love, as he didn't seem to be able to help himself from falling over and over and over, but that was the easy part, wasn't it. Falling. It was sustaining it beyond that initial rush of adrenaline and giddiness that was difficult, and his head was telling him that even thinking of trying to take this path with Ianto – who was not only mortal, but Torchwood mortal which meant that every day, every hour, was a blessing - could only end in tears.

But his heart was telling him to take the chance, that the risk was worth it no matter how short their time together. Jack tried to imagine what this moment would be like without Ianto beside him; sitting in an empty Hub at the end of a long, hard day with no one to lean on, no one that understood, no one that just got him and uncannily knew exactly what he needed without him having to say a word. It was a connection that Jack was loath to admit he needed, but he did. He needed it as much as Owen needed to decompress with a night on the town, as much as Toshiko needed to bury herself in cyberspace, as much as Gwen needed to lose herself in the normalcy of her life with Rhys. He needed Ianto in his life. He wanted Ianto in his life, and to have what he wanted and needed, he had to ignore how his head was screaming that, one day, this decision was going to shatter him, and let his heart take the reins.

So he reached out and brushed his knuckles over Ianto's cheek, letting his thumb linger over his temple, massaging away the tension there. Ianto's breathing faltered then he inhaled with deliberate evenness, as if trying to prove that Jack's touch had no effect on him. Jack swept the stray strands of fine hair away from Ianto's face, fingers tangling in the short locks as his thumb rubbed circles over Ianto's skin. Some of the deep creases around Ianto's eyes smoothed out at the contact, and Jack smiled in satisfaction at the tiny capitulation.

'Hungry?' Jack asked quietly, his voice sounding loud over the soft hum of the computers. Ianto made a noise Jack took as a negative and turned ever-so-slightly into Jack's touch. Jack's smile widened and he scratched his fingernails lightly over Ianto's scalp, dragging a reluctant moan from the other man's throat. 'You like that?'

Ianto made another, more enthusiastic sound, and Jack let his fingers slide through the tight curls at the base of Ianto's skull, watching as his long, blunt-nailed digits parted the dark brown locks, guided by the gathering strength of Ianto's approving groans. They'd never done this before Jack left. Not really. If they'd had time to themselves, they'd fucked, or eaten, or eaten and fucked, with a bit of conversation in between mouthfuls and orgasms. They'd never just... enjoyed each other before, and the lazy exploration of Ianto's skull – mapping the sensitive spots for future reference – loosened Jack's tongue.

'I died for real once.'

Ianto's face remained impassive, but Jack felt the mood in the room shift. His eyes remained focused on his fingers in Ianto's hair as he continued. 'It was the Daleks. Long time ago for me, yet to happen in linear time. I was trying to buy the Doctor time. I was the last man standing... it's not really important how or why, I guess, just...'

He shook his head, threading his finger through a curl behind Ianto's ear. 'Rose Tyler. Beautiful, blonde, ballsy as hell.' He barked out a laugh of fond remembrance. 'She opened the heart of the TARDIS, took the vortex into herself and wished me back to life. But she couldn't control it. Now, because she loved me, I'll never die.'

Ianto's breathing had hastened – his chest rising and falling erratically - and Jack could see the muscle in his jaw jumping. He wanted to stop the retelling there, but Ianto wasn't stupid. He knew there was more to Jack's obsession with the Doctor than unrequited affection and he deserved to know that it was over, that Jack's heart no longer lay in the stars.

'He left me.' Jack closed his eyes at the familiar sting the words caused, irritated that, even after all this time, after all he'd been through, that abandonment still hurt. 'He knew what Rose had done and he couldn't stand what I'd become, so he left me there with nothing but Dalek dust and rotting corpses for company.'

He chanced a glance at Ianto's face and was startled to see him staring back, his eyes glittering with hot and fierce fire. 'He left you alone?' Ianto asked, his voice hard. 'After you died for him?'

'I felt wrong to him. I'm a fixed point, and time is in flux around me.' Jack swallowed down the bitterness that rose hot and sour in his throat. 'I make his skin crawl.'

Ianto's lips tightened but he said nothing, simply staring off into the depths of the Hub as Jack's fingers shifted to his neck, rubbing at the bunching muscles there. It was several minutes before Jack's caresses eased some of the tension there, and Ianto spoke again.

'You don't hate him, but what about her? Rose? For doing this to you?'

'Sometimes,' Jack confessed wearily, his hand stilling, curved around Ianto's nape. 'When it feels like I've already lived forever and I realise I've still got so far to go, yes. I hate her. But then I remember that she did it because she loved me, and I can't help but love her back.' He squeezed Ianto's neck lightly. 'I wouldn't be here now if she hadn't done it.'

Ianto nodded, still gazing absently into the dark recesses beyond the work level. Jack allowed his fingertips to graze the skin just under Ianto's collar, closing his eyes as he remembered this favourite patch of skin slick with sweat and painted a rainbow of colours by Jack's teeth and lips.

'I knew where Lisa was because I was right there,' Ianto said suddenly, still looking off into the distance. 'I was next in line for the conversion machine next to hers when the Cybermen started flying out of the room.'

Jack froze, his blood turning to ice. God, he'd never asked Ianto about Canary Wharf, about how he'd managed to escape harm, how he'd gotten Lisa out. Fuck! He'd never even asked how close to Lisa's fate Ianto himself had come.

'I detached the machinery and dragged her to the car park on the basement levels,' Ianto said in a monotone. 'Then I stole a van and drove us to my place.' He picked at the hem of his jacket. 'I went back over the next couple of days and scavenged what I needed to keep her alive.'

He looked at Jack who tried not to wince at the raw, open gaze. 'I saw you there,' he whispered hoarsely. 'I knew who you were, and that's when I got the idea to come back to Cardiff.'

Jack's hand slid around to frame Ianto's jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. 'We're both here right now because of love,' he said with a soft smile then his eyes met Ianto's. 'And I know that, for me, I stay for love.'

Ianto's eyes widened and, after a momentary hesitation in which an entire conversation was held and a decision made, he reached up and covered Jack's hand with his own. 'Will you tell me more about Rose sometime?'

Jack nodded, leaning in to brush his lips over Ianto's temple. 'If you tell me about Lisa,' he bargained. 'The real Lisa.'

Ianto's lips curled up in a smile, and Jack couldn't resist kissing the corner of his mouth. Ianto huffed out a breath of amusement then took charge, gripping Jack's chin between his thumb and forefinger and drawing him in for their first kiss since Jack's return.

'I stay for love as well,' Ianto murmured, nipping Jack's lower lip gently. He pulled back a little and smiled slyly at Jack. 'Want me to prove it?'

Jack grinned and, for the first time in what felt like forever, he meant it. 'Oh, yeah,' he leered before laughing just for the sheer joy of it, then he swooped upon Ianto and kissed him hard enough to send them tumbling, still laughing, onto the couch.

fin.