Title: Foot Massage Conversations VI: Reversal
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Series: 1) Foot Massage Converstions, 2) Foot Massage Conversations Interlude: Full Body Massage, 3) Foot Massage Conversations II: Meat, 4) Foot Massage Conversations III: Origins, 5) Foot Massage Conversations IV: Countrycide, 6) Foot Massage Conversations V: Jack’s Back, 7) Foot Massage Converstions Interlude II: Bath Time
Word Count: 828
Rating: PG
Summary: Set immediately after “Out of the Rain”, Jack attempts to coax Ianto into revealing what bothered him so much about this particular case. As the title suggests, reversal of the normal order: Jack rubs Ianto’s feet.
Warnings: Nothing at all, really.
A/N: This is just my interpretation of why Ianto was so upset after OotR. There's more reasons in the episode that could cause him to react that way, but this was my favorite one. Also, I wanted Jack to care for Ianto just once in the series ^.^

            Ianto was brooding in the Archives. His brooding had taken on the form of reorganizing the 1900-1910 lists of “Phantasmagoria Sightings”, and he was currently sitting on the ground, surrounded by papers in shin-high stacks.

            So lost was he in making out the handwriting on the sheets of paper that he didn’t hear Jack sneaking up behind him. “Hey.” Ianto tilted his head in acknowledgment. A hand brushed through his hair before coming to rest on his shoulder. It squeezed reassuringly, and Ianto leaned into it, turning his neck lazily to the side.

            “Jack, I’m busy.”

            Warm lips pressed to his neck, trailing up and down. “You’re not busy. You’re just trying to distract yourself.” Jack’s tongue swiped a hot path across his pulse point. “I know of a much better way to distract you.”

            Ianto shrugged Jack off. It wasn’t what he wanted, not tonight. Jack let him pull away, but sat behind him, dejected. Sighing, Ianto turned around to face Jack. They looked at each other across the piles of papers, both sitting cross-legged. “What’s wrong?”

            “What do you mean?”

            Jack crossed his arms defiantly. “I know you, Ianto. You’re upset over something. Is it the Night Travelers? We managed to save the boy, and we stopped them.”

            Ianto stood abruptly, shaking his head. “No, Jack. Just…leave it.”

            Jack’s hands were on his shoulders, and Ianto noted with some satisfaction that Jack was being careful not to disturb his carefully constructed piles. “Come on, Ianto. Here, just come over here with me for a minute.”

            Ianto reluctantly allowed himself to be led by Jack, treading carefully over his piles of papers. Jack pushed Ianto down to sit with his back up against a bookcase, and Jack sat down with his back up against one across from him. “Now, feet.” Jack patted his lap.

            “No, Jack…” Ianto made to get up, but Jack gripped at his ankle.

            “Come on, Ianto. I’m just giving you a foot massage.”

            Ianto rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He stuck both feet into Jack’s lap, who began to happily unlace his shoes.

            As Jack’s hands first pressed into the bare flesh of Ianto’s feet, Ianto felt his eyes flutter closed. Oh, but that felt too lovely. Ianto sighed and relaxed incrementally - shifting his focus from the stress of the day, to the feel of Jack’s thumbs digging circles beneath each of his toes in turn. A groan might have bubbled up from his throat as Jack’s firm hands began to trace lines down his soles.

            When Jack switched to Ianto’s right foot, still not saying a word, Ianto cracked an eye open. Jack wasn’t even looking at him expectantly – he seemed for all intensive purposes entirely focused on the task at hand. “When I was a kid…” Jack’s eyes flicked up for a moment, but he gave no other sign that he was listening. “When I was a kid, I used to love the old stuff. Ray Bradbury stories from the old pulp magazines, weekend visits to the Electro to watch the old traveling shows on film, even old phonographs to play big band music on.”

            Jack’s gentle grin as he stared down at Ianto’s feet encouraged him to continue. “For my twelfth birthday I even got an old Underwood typewriter. You’ve got to remember, by the time I was twelve we had a personal computer in the house. It was a clunky, semi-useless thing, but it was still a computer. An Underwood was…ancient. But I loved it.”

            Apparently Jack couldn’t resist a small comment. “Some things never change.”

            Ianto rolled his eyes, but the fight had gone out of him. “But what happened, with the Night Travelers…” Ianto fell silent. He was never sure how much he should tell Jack, how honest he should be with him. In a way it was hypocritical, considering how he encouraged full disclosure on Jack’s part. From another angle, it really wasn’t: he knew that Jack didn’t tell him everything, not even close to everything.

            Still, Jack was displaying a rare amount of patience, just sitting there and rubbing his feet, barely saying a word. Maybe Jack deserved a little bit of honesty. “It’s just…one more thing Torchwood destroyed. One more thing I loved, ruined forever. One day, there’ll be nothing left.”

            Jack squeezed his foot gently and smiled up at Ianto. “I’m still here.” Ianto smiled back at Jack. He just looked so…so eager, and sincere. He couldn’t help but be warmed by him. Jack leaned down at placed a kiss on Ianto’s big toe, and Ianto squirmed a bit.

Brusquely Jack patted Ianto’s leg and stood up. “Come on,” he offered down his hand to Ianto. “Let’s go home.” Ianto took the hand and let Jack hoist him up. To his surprise, Jack did nothing more than plant a small kiss to his cheek. Quietly, Ianto allowed Jack to hold his hand as he led him out.

Next story in series - Foot Massage Conversation VII: Ianto Decides