Title: Foot Massage Conversations III: Origins
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Series: 1) Foot Massage Converstions, 2) Foot Massage Conversations Interlude: Full Body Massage, 3) Foot Massage Conversations II: Meat
Word Count: 2,024
Rating: PG
Summary: Takes place after "Small Worlds", first time Ianto rubs Jack's feet. Also, lots of Lisa/Jack confusion on Ianto's part.
Warnings: Surprising angst, toward the end. Sorry.
A/N: So this is slightly non-cannon, b/c I ignore the little scene at the end of "Small Worlds" where Gwen is organizing papers. I mean, Gwen, organizing papers? Pfft.
PS to my Brit readers: I'm a Yankee, and I find your terms for clothing baffling. But I tried my best! Vest (UK) = Undershirt (US), yeah?

           Ianto watched as the members of the team filed into the Hub: angry, accusatory, and silent. All except Jack, who trudged in last. He kept staring at his team members, like he wanted to talk, or explain himself…but there was nothing else for him to say. Silently, Ianto ducked his head and went to coffee machine. Before he could even start brewing some comfort coffee for the team, Tosh, Owen, and Gwen all stormed out, leaving Jack and Ianto alone in the Hub.

            Glancing over to Jack’s office, Ianto could see Jack sitting at his desk, head in his hands. Starting up the machine, Ianto brewed Jack’s favorite “industrial strength” coffee. A few minutes later he walked over, a mug clutched in either hand. He quietly sat the mug down near Jack’s elbow, then began to walk away. However, just as he reached the doorway between Jack’s office and the rest of the Hub, he hesitated. Jack didn’t deserve comfort, not really – so Ianto had been telling himself these past few weeks. Looking over his shoulder, Ianto sighed. It was hard to tell himself that Jack didn’t deserve it, especially when he looked so sad and small.

            Ianto sat himself down in a chair on the opposite side of Jack’s desk. He waited a moment; long enough to see it was obvious that Jack wasn’t budging. “Sir?”

            Jack started slightly, lifting his head up to observe the young Welshman in front of him. Ianto took a breath. “I just…” Ianto glanced down at the coffee mug he clutched in his hands. It warmed his palms. “I don’t think you were wrong, sir. That is to say…” Ianto’s eyes darted to the side, not wanting to look at Jack for too long. He didn’t deserve the comfort, he really didn’t. But that didn’t mean he was wrong. “You were right. I…I think you made the right decision today, sir. Just…thought you should know.”

            Ianto ducked his head and look a long drink from his mug, not daring to see whatever expression might be flitting across Jack’s face. After a moment, from the corner of his eyes, he saw Jack lift his mug off the table and bring it to his lips. Ianto chanced a glance up in time to see Jack’s eyes slide closed and a pink tongue dart across his lips. The churning in his stomach was decidedly not useful. “I’d best be going then, sir. Lots of paperwork.”

            As Ianto stood to leave Jack’s hand darted across the table: not quite reaching him, but the gesture made him pause as surely as a hand on his arm. “Wait.” Without thinking Ianto sat back down. Jack smiled a false, toothy grin. “You wouldn’t mind keeping me company, would you? I’ll even let the paperwork slide ‘til morning.”

            Ianto nodded solemnly. They sat there in awkward silence as both men sipped their coffees. Ianto noticed, somewhat hysterically, that they were never in sync; they never lifted the coffee to their mouths and sipped at the same time. Was that odd? Was that normal? “What do you do?” Ianto’s head jerked upward involuntarily at the soft question from Jack. He abruptly tried to lighten his tone, though remained unsuccessful. “I mean, if you need cheering up. Does Ianto Jones eat a big tub of ice cream? Do you exercise? Organize your sock drawer?”

            Ianto allowed himself a smile and blushed at the last suggestion, which was sadly not too far off from the truth. “Well, besides cleaning, which I’m sure isn’t going to be much comfort to you, sir…” Jack grinned, obviously pleased that he had come close with one of his guesses, “I watch a lot of Bond movies.”

            Jack raised an eyebrow. “Do you have any on you?”

            “Actually, I have my laptop, and I have a few saved on to the hard drive. I don’t think you’ll find them very interesting; what with you being a real-life secret agent, Bond’s adventures’ll probably seem positively boring to you.” Ianto smiled ruefully up at Jack.

            Jack jumped up and ruffled Ianto’s hair, taking the coffee mug with him. “Oh, I dunno. I could use some boring after the day I’ve had. Grab your laptop and we’ll hook it up to Tosh’s display. Oh,” Jack turned, a glimmer of worry crossing his face, “if you don’t mind. I just... thought it might be good…”

            Ianto nodded, putting on a smile. “No mind, sir. I wouldn’t be going to sleep for a few hours yet, as it is.”

            Ianto hurried over to the coffee machine and grabbed for his laptop case. Pausing for a moment, he grabbed his mobile and placed an order to Jubilee pizza. He didn’t know why he was doing all this for Jack: the man who had killed Lisa. It’s probably because you know he did the right thing, a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered. He ignored it and walked back over to Jack, laptop in hand. “Are you sure Toshiko won’t kill us if she finds out about this?”

            “What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.” Jack waggled his eyebrows at Ianto as he pulled at some wires.

            “Yeah, well, I might not know there’s a parasite gnawing on my innards, but it can still hurt me.” Ianto muttered.

He didn’t expect Jack to hear him, but he guffawed loudly from his position stuck behind the monitors. “Point taken. Still, we can return it back to normal as soon as we’re done.”

Jack gestured from his contorted position, and Ianto dutifully passed the laptop over to him. Two plugs and one button push later, and Ianto’s laptop background filled the displays. If Jack noticed that Ianto’s background was still the default, he didn’t comment on it. “Alright, see? Told you I knew what I was doing.”

Ianto nodded as he checked his watch. “Excuse me, sir. The pizza should be arriving shortly. Here,” Ianto clicked through some folders on his laptop, “These are the five I have on my hard drive. Feel free to pick whichever one you like, sir. I’ll be back down in a moment.”

Ianto bounded away, down the stairs and through the cog door. Sure enough, not a minute after he entered the tourist office and assumed his position behind the counter, Jubilee pizza rang. He paid the young delivery man – giving him an extra large tip won’t bring that poor girl back – and locked up the tourist office for the night.

When he got back down Jack was already lounging on the couch, head on one armrest, bare feet on the other. Ianto noted that he had managed to shuck off his boots, socks, braces, and shirt in the time that he had been upstairs. Now all he had on were his trousers and vest. The movie had just started, and was still on the classic Bond opening credits. As unobtrusively as he could, Ianto doled out two slices of pizza onto a plate for Jack, handing it and a bottle of water to him. Jack smiled gratefully.

“Uh, sir?” Ianto arched an eyebrow at Jack’s feet and legs, which were occupying any space for Ianto on the couch. Jack laughed and pulled his legs up, making room for him.

Ianto grabbed himself a slice of pizza, plate, napkin, and beer before settling onto the couch and trying his best to balance it all. Before he could get comfortable Jack had stretched his legs back out, placing his feet in Ianto’s lap with a contented sigh. Ianto opened his mouth to say something to the effect of “This is unsanitary and get off,” but stopped himself when he glanced over at Jack. He was staring at the display screen, and his face had smoothed out to the most relaxed Ianto had seen it in…well, in a while. So the feet stayed.

An hour into the movie the pizza and beer were working their magic on Ianto’s mind, lulling him into a state of blissful fuzziness. Absently his hands had drifted down to Jack’s bare feet and were resting on them, tracing small circles there subconsciously. Jack shifted on the couch and prodded Ianto’s hands gently with his feet. “You gonna give the Captain a foot rub?”

Embarrassed, Ianto yanked his hands away from Jack’s feet. “Sorry, sorry sir. I didn’t mean to.”

Ianto sat in awkward silence, staring hard enough at the display screens that he felt he might bore holes into them. A soft cough forced his eyes over to Jack, who was affecting a nonchalant smile. “I wouldn’t mind, you know. A little foot rub.”

            Ianto rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was the beer, or pizza, or movie, or maybe it was just that Jack obviously needed the contact after today, but Ianto’s hands drifted back down to Jack’s feet and started rubbing. Immediately Jack’s head fell back onto the armrest and his eyes drifted shut. “Oh, yeah. Ianto…”

            It was a good thing Jack’s eyes were shut, because Ianto felt his face going beet red at the moan that escaped from Jack’s throat. And the way his Adam’s apple bobbed on the smooth, tan skin of his neck as he swallowed…right. Jack’s feet. Ianto was focusing on rubbing Jack’s feet.

            “Better not enjoy this too much, sir. Not a part of my job description: foot rubs for the boss.”

            “We’ll just have to add it. Who do you recommend I talk to about adjusting Torchwood records?”

            Ianto smiled down at Jack’s feet as he rubbed. At first he was just aimlessly squeezing both feet and pressing down with his thumbs, but after a few twitches from Jack, Ianto began to focus on actually rubbing them, soothing the tension and stress away, muscle by muscle. Jack moaned softly. “Anyone ever tell you that you have magic fingers, Ianto? We’re definitely changing your job description; don’t you fight it! I’ll give you a pay raise to do this.”

            Ianto nodded at the screen, fingers still sliding over Jack’s feet. “Why don’t we just watch the movie for now, worry about that tomorrow?” Jack grumbled but obeyed, staying quiet for the rest of the flick.

            By the time the credits started rolling Ianto had noticed Jack drifting a few times, head nodding into the armrest. Carefully, Ianto lifted Jack’s feet and slid out from under them, placing them gently back down on the couch. He picked up the empty pizza box, bottles of water and beer, and napkins and plates. Once everything was in the trash and the table was free from debris, Ianto took a last look around. He would just have to leave his laptop for tonight: he could get it back from Jack in the morning.

Jack…Ianto sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his head as he looked down at the sleeping man below him. Sneaking off into his office, Ianto pulled a blanket from a back cabinet. Softly he placed the blanket over Jack before turning to go. A hand on his wrist stopped him, and Ianto turned to look down at Jack’s bleary blue eyes. “Hey.”

Ianto blinked, swallowing. “Sir?”

“Thanks, Ianto.”

Ianto hesitated, but only for a moment. Bending down he kissed Jack on the forehead, so quickly and lightly he might as well not have. “Get your rest, sir. I’ll be back in the morning.” With that, Ianto gently pried Jack’s fingers off his wrist and left the Hub.

            Once outside the Tourist Center doors, Ianto pressed his back up against the wall, panting and shaking. Why did I do that why did I do that it’s Jack, it’s Jack, the man who…oh God, Lisa. Tears hot in his eyes, Ianto pressed the heels of his hands into them, trying to scrub away the sorrow, the guilt, everything. Jack just…he needed it, so much… a different voice niggled at the back of his mind: you needed it so much.

            Ianto shook his head vigorously, blinking away the tears. Trying to regain his composure, Ianto tugged on his suit jacket, straightened his tie, and set off for the Torchwood car park.  

Next story in series - Foot Massage Conversations IV: Countrycide