Title: Torrents of Desire
Author: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Ianto Jones
Fandom: CSI/Torchwood
Rated: PG-13
Word Count: 1,764
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Ianto Jones, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Ianto shoved his hands in his pockets as he headed for the pub; he kept his head down, not wanting to look around him and see anyone he might know. He wasn't interested in talking to anyone, and he had no intention of going home with a man tonight.

Ever since Jack had left, dismantling what was left of Torchwood and going off to the States, he'd felt adrift and isolated. Jack had made it clear that their relationship was over, and that there would be no vestiges of Torchwood left here in Cardiff.

The deaths of Owen and Tosh had hit Jack hard -- but they'd hit the whole team. Well, maybe not Gwen, Ianto thought resentfully. She'd seemed to be happy that now Jack could become more dependent on her; that was par for the course.

Well, she'd finally found a way to separate him from Jack, insisting that going off to America to start a "new chapter" of Torchwood there would be best for the two of them. And she'd somehow convinced Jack that Ianto didn't need to be a part of that fresh start.

Ianto knew how she'd done it. She had made him believe that if Ianto stayed with Torchwood, he would end up the same way that Tosh and Owen had -- dead. And Jack would lose yet another person he cared for long before they would have met a natural death.

So in the end, she had won. She had gone off with not only her husband, but with Jack in tow as well. And if that was the way Jack felt, then he was welcome to the btich and his "new life" in America, Ianto told himself, his fists clenching in his pockets.

He'd found another job; that hadn't been hard at all. He had used his connections with the police force that Gwen had fostered, and he was working with Andy Davidson, who had become a close friend. But not as close as the Torchwood team had been.

At least if he ever got into another relationship, there was no Gwen around now to try and wreck it for him out of jealousy, Ianto thought with a bitter smile as he pushed open the door of the pub and went inside. Not that he planned on being with anyone any time soon.

He'd never been anything more than a shag to Jack, really. The fact that he could go sniffing after Gwen like a dog in search of a bone proved that. He would have eventually gotten his heart broken, so it was a good thing that Jack had left when he had.

But being alone wasn't easy, either. He didn't want to give his heart away again; he'd had enough of that. It only resulted in that heart being broken, and his was still far too fragile to trust anyone not to shatter it into millions of tiny shards.

He made his way through the few people who were standing near the entrance to the bar, sinking onto a barstool and ordering his usual drink from the bartender there. Ianto didn't look around; there was no one he expected to see, no one he wanted to speak to.

He just wanted to have a drink and leave, go home to his lonely flat and watch some television, then get up and go to work the next day. No, he wouldn't be working. It was a Friday night; a long weekend stretched out in front of him, with nowhere to go and no one to see.

Just like every other weekend had been since Jack had left, he reminded himself with a sigh. Nothing ever changed; he went to work five days a week, on Saturdays if he was called in, and felt that his life was empty and meaningless now that Torchwood was history.

Would meeting someone new make him feel differently? Ianto didn't think so. It would just point out the fact that the one man he'd loved had left him, that he'd given his heart to the wrong person and that he was never going to replace that love.

Someone sat down next to him, but he didn't turn his head to look at them. He heard the soft voice giving an order to the bartender, saw the slender hand reach for a napkin to set the frosty glass on. Without meaning to, he turned his head to look at the newcomer.

He hadn't felt his heart surge and his pulses race in this way since the first time he'd looked at Jack. This man looked nothing like his former lover; he was younger, more delicate, with sculpted, angular features that looked as though he'd stepped off the cover of a magazine.

The other man didn't seem to notice Ianto's open stare for a few moments; then he turned his head and smiled, and Ianto was sure that his heart had been pierced by Cupid's arrow even more firmly than Jack's first smile had done. He was lost. Utterly, irrevocably lost.

He wanted this man. Ianto didn't care if he would leave in the morning and it would just be a one-night stand, or if they would eventually break up and he would be left again. All he knew, in this moment, was that he was struck by a desire stronger than anything he'd ever felt before.

It didn't matter that this probably wasn't love. Ianto didn't care if it was just naked desire rushing through his veins, if this was nothing more than lust. All that mattered was the way he felt, and at the moment, all he felt was a desire so intense that it was almost painful.

When their eyes met, his pulse beat faster, his heart raced, and his entire body tightened in reaction. He could feel such desire within himself that he was surprised it didn't show on his face -- or maybe it did. He had no way of knowing just what was written in his expression.

"Hi," the other man said softly, holding out a hand. His accent, even on that one word, was obviously American; a voice in the back of Ianto's head told him to run, to get away from this man as quickly as he could. He didn't have good luck with American men.

But instead, he held out of his own hand, grasping those slender fingers, returning that tentative smile and introducing himself. "Hello. I'm Ianto. Ianto Jones." He had to laugh at his own words, shaking his head ruefully. "That sounds a bit James Bond, doesn't it? I'm sorry."

"Hey, James Bond works for me." The other man laughed softly, showing even white teeth in a smile that Ianto was sure had already melted his heart. "I'm Greg Sanders. Obviously not from around here. Just transferred here to work in the crime lab."

"Crime lab?" Ianto was interested in that; he might actually run into Greg through the course of his work, now that he'd actually been through the police academy system and was working with Andy. "I wouldn't have thought that an American would want to work in Wales."

"I hadn't planned on it," Greg said with a shrug. "But some things went down in Vegas, where I used to work -- to make a long story short, I was involved with a guy I worked with pretty closely. And one of us had to leave. He'd been there longer than me, so ...."

Greg's voice trailed off; he looked away from Ianto, swallowing hard. Ianto's heart went out to him; he had obviously been seriously involved with this man, and Ianto couldn't imagine anyone actually wanting to let Greg go. Their parting must have been heartrending.

"I'm not suggesting that you might be looking for a replacement, because I know it's probably far too soon for you to think about anything like that," he began tentatively, not exactly sure how to phrase what he wanted to say. "But if you'd ever like to go out sometime --"

"Yeah. I would." Greg interrupted him before he could issue an invitation, those dark eyes meeting his. "I'd like that a lot. I can't sit around here and mope about what's in the past, can I? It won't do me any good. It's not going to fix what's done, and I have to move on with my life."

"Coming here might have been a very good way of doing that," Ianto told him, a smile on his lips. "And if you'd like to go out to dinner tomorrow night, I'd love to spend some time with you. I think you and I could get to know each other very well."

"Why wait until dinner tomorrow?" Greg asked him, raising a brow in question. "What's wrong with tonight? Unless you've already got plans, that is. But you seem like you're alone, and so am I. If neither one of us has plans for the night, let's not waste any time."

Ianto nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. He wanted to take Greg home with him and take him to bed; he'd wanted that from the moment he'd laid eyes on this man, but he hadn't wanted to say so because he hadn't thought that Greg would feel the same.

But apparently, he did -- and Ianto wasn't going to argue. He'd never felt desire like this, not with Lisa, not with Jack. It ripped through his body in a torrent that washed away every other feeling; and something told him that this was more than simply lust. Much more.

"Come on, let's get out of here and go somewhere more private," he said, finishing his drink and setting the empty glass back down on the bar. He threw a few bills at the bartender, paying for his own drink and for Greg's, before reaching for the other man's hand.

He could feel desire rising in him again as he led Greg to the door and out of the bar. It was only a few blocks to walk to his flat, and he hoped that the two of them might be doing this for quite a few nights, far into the future. A future that suddenly looked much brighter.

***