Title: Anything that's gorgeous
By: lower-case-me
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: AO
Spoilers: Up to They Keep Killing Suzie and End of Days spoilers .
Summary: Jack snogged someone else. Ianto deals with it.

***

'Hey.'
'Hello Jack.'

Jack had let himself into Ianto's terrace row house. He was hoping Ianto would be home, and from the sound of the television from upstairs, he was. Nobody had come to the doorbell, though. Ianto's usual overcoat wasn't hung on the rack by the door, which wasn't a surprise, because it was still back at the hub. There was only a plain dark waterproof with a yellow and black Newport County football scarf hung over it. Jack only been here once before, and that was earlier today, looking for Ianto. Then, the stair carpet had been immaculately clean. Now there was mud on it.

Upstairs, the bedroom door was half-open and Jack didn't knock. Under ordinary circumstances, Ianto would have commented on that, but right now that would have left him open to a return shot about not answering the front door. Ianto was smart enough not to do that.

Earlier, curiosity had got the better of Jack ever so slightly. He'd allowed himself to linger a few minutes longer than necessity demanded in Ianto's private space. As he'd assumed, it was spotlessly clean and well kept. There were more spices in the kitchen than he expected, and the bathroom was host to a forest of potted plants, but the decoration was completely in line with Jack's imagination- perfect taste, framed Monet waterlillies over the dinner table and a large Hokusai woodblock print in the upstairs hallway. In Ianto's bedroom the only thing on the walls was a large framed photograph of him with Lisa on a cliff by the sea. It was windy and their hair was messed up. Ianto had a neat coil of brightly coloured rope at his feet and both of them were wearing climbing harnesses. They looked flushed and sweaty, and very very happy.

Back in the present, the sound coming from the TV was David Attenborough's voice. On the screen, an orange deep-sea jellyfish billowed through inky black water. Ianto glanced up and Jack, but didn't get up. He was lying full length on the bed, on top of the covers in jeans and a black hoody. There were boots by the bottom of the bed, covered in the mud that had spread to the carpet. He hadn't even bothered to line them up neatly. It was so unlike Ianto that Jack felt a deep stab of unease. Ianto's feet were bare.

'Where'd you go today? I came by earlier and you weren't here. Tosh tracked your mobile phone signal, but that didn't help us much.'
'Jacket pocket, hanging over the back of a chair in the conference room.'
'I was worried. It's not like you to leave without it. Hell, it's not like you to leave.'
'It's not like me to come that close to decking Owen either' Ianto said flatly.
'No, but you did it in a very you-ish way. Careful not to break anything or make a mess.' Jack smiled. He sat down level with Ianto's thighs and lay a hand on his hip.
'Are you angry with me?' Ianto asked, still not moving.

Expressionless, Jack thought. That could be because he's not letting it show or because he doesn't care.
'Nah. Owen had no right to say what he did. No right at all.' He didn't say that it was a relief, this proof that Ianto cared enough to lose his temper. But it was.

'I don't care what Owen thinks, Jack. If what comes out of his mouth mattered to me I'd have belted him long ago.' Ianto rolled over enough to look at Jack straight on, but didn't say anything more. He didn't need to.
'Are you angry with me?' Jack asked, tilting his head.
'No.'
'You sure?'
'Completely. I'm familiar with that particular sensation and this isn't it.' Ianto sighed. He looked worn out.
'Tired?'
'Beyond belief.'
'Owen was not just out of line. He was wrong' Jack said, looking Ianto in the eye. 'That's what got to you, wasn't it? You thought he might be right for a change.' Jack's hand rubbed the side of Ianto's hip lightly and absently. 'If this is about-'
'It's not. You wouldn't be you if you didn't... do anyone that's gorgeous, as Tosh put it.'
'I didn't get as far as 'doing' him.'
'Not the point, Jack. I've said I won't ask you for monogamy, and I won't. Not because I know I wouldn't get it- though I wouldn't- but because if some strange alien hormone made you it impossible for you to look at anyone else, I'd mourn for the Jack you're supposed to be.'

Jack grinned wickedly.
'In my extensive experience strange alien hormones-'
'Please, Captain. I'm not in the mood for stories.' As quickly as it'd come, the smile faded. For a moment, Jack looked almost as exhausted as Ianto felt. He traced the line of Ianto's jaw with the back of his fingers.
'If it isn't about me kissing another guy, why so sad, Yan?'
'I'm tired. I'm really tired.'
'Answer the question, Ianto' Jack said, more harshly than he intended. The nagging feeling that Ianto was going to gently but firmly cut him off had been building up all day, and now it was towering. Ianto closed his eyes for a moment and took a long breath. He opened them, far too exhausted to hide, and found Jack's eyes on him, intense and searching.

'It's hard for me to keep telling myself Owen's wrong. I'm so worn down, Jack. Sometimes I feel like everything that happens breaks me a little bit more. Nothing heals properly. Like I'm a coffee cup someone dropped and glued back together carelessly. All lumpy and ugly. Too scarred. Faith is difficult. It runs away through the cracks in me and I don't have the strength to hold on to it or anything else.'
'I thought I helped' was all Jack could think to say.
'You do. But you'll be the death of me, Jack Harkness' Ianto relied, softly.
'No. No I will not, Ianto Jones' Jack growled vehemently. 'I refuse, okay? I won't. Tell me what you need. Tell me what'll help.'

Ianto took in the set of his jaw and the burning in his eyes. It was no use arguing with Jack in this mood. But honestly, he didn't want to. Instead he longed to sleep, and to forget that one day this man was going to walk away from him without looking back.

'Yan? Tell me what I can do to make whatever's wrong easier. If it involves sex, great, I'm good at that, if not, I'll learn to be good at whatever it is.'
'Jack...' He wanted to say that some things couldn't be made better with gestures, or even kisses. It was simpler, though, to open his arms and see Jack smile, and to watch him shrug out of his coat and to feel Jack's weight settle beside him, warm and solid. So much easier to have Jack move gratefully into his arms and to soothe the worry he'd caused away.

***

As the credits rolled on the documentary, Ianto reached carefully over Jack towards the TV remote. He couldn't quite grab it without shifting the warm weight on his chest, and gave up.
'I thought you were asleep' Jack said, into his neck. 'You must be the only man alive who sleeps less than me.'
'Perhaps I'm not tired enough, Captain.'

Jack raised his head instantly.

'Ianto Jones, was that a challenge?'
'Only in your grubby gutter mind.'
'Awww. Get a man's hopes up, why don't you.' Jack kissed the stubbly skin under Ianto's jaw, enjoying the rare roughness there. 'Where did you go, today?' he asked, half-idly, half out of a deep worry.
'Just walking, Jack. I wanted to be away from the city for a while.'
'Valleys boy, huh?'
'I like the hills around me, Jack. Feels like home.'

Jack didn't say that the place Ianto was born is less than 30 miles from Cardiff and he could go back home any time he wanted, because he knew that if it was true, Ianto would have done it by now. Instead, he kissed a little more intently, easing a hurt he even couldn't guess at. Ianto had shown him by example that you don't need to know details to do that.

'Jack?'
'Mmmm?'
'I didn't feed Myfanwy.'
'Relax. I made Owen do it.'
'She doesn't like him.'
'Today neither do I. Myfanwy just hissed at him, I was nastier. More creative.'
'Oh, now I'm intrigued. Do tell.'
'I told him that you give me the freedom to act on my impulses, and that's a gift. From you to me, nothing to do with anyone else. Then I told him how perfect it is to wake up with your hair in my face. How good it is to have someone who knows exactly what I want before I want it, and can still surprise me at 4AM on a wet Cardiff morning.'
'It's the rain that did that. Not my fault.' Ianto yawned.
'You live in Wales and the rain makes you horny?'Jack grinned, nosing his way to the velvety place behind Ianto's ear.
'And?' Ianto said, perfectly serious.
'And I like that in a Welshman. Remind me to take you up on the roof next downpour we get.'
'Did you mean what you said to Owen?'
'With all my heart. Every inch of my skin, both hands and especially my-'
'I think I get the picture, Captain.'

It was disturbing that Ianto had asked. That was a breach of his self-enforced code of never asking for reassurance from Jack. It could mean he was lonely, and if anyone was capable of being lonely with his cock starting to press into Jack's thigh, it was Ianto. Or it could mean he actually believed he'd hear the truth. That was a better thought. For a long time, Jack was sure Ianto hadn't asked for kind words because he didn't want to hear smooth and loving lies.

Jack had been cruel to Owen, who'd just been passed over as second best by yet another woman, and had endured Gwen's chatting about Christmas plans with Rhys with barely concealed bitterness. The last thing he'd needed was a long and starry-eyed lecture from Jack about the warm fuzziness of having someone to come home to. The darker side of Jack knew that, and laid it on thick.

But nothing he said was untrue.

He shifted, rolling over and playfully bullying Ianto into shifting to give him more space. Jack sprawled out flat on his back and enjoyed the supportive expanse of Ianto's queen sized bed. From the wall, Lisa smiled at him and Ianto smiled at Lisa.

Glancing over, he saw a different Ianto looking at the ceiling, quiet and thoughtful. He was a little older, thinner, so much sadder.

'Ianto.'
'Captain.'
'I know how you feel.'
'Do you now?' Ianto smiled, half playful, half tolerant of Jack's bullshit.
'Matter of fact, I do' Jack said reproachfully, and squeezed Ianto's thigh through the denim. 'I get- not jealous- more, ah...'
'The famous Jack Harkness, lost for words' Ianto said, with real amusement in his eyes this time.
'Okay, so I get jealous.' Jack allowed his eyes to flick back to the photo on the wall. He knew Ianto would see and understand. 'It's okay. I get it. You want time to grieve. As long as you need, Yan.'

Ianto placed a hand gently on Jack's, finger over finger, and rubbed lightly. His face was perfectly composed, but there was so much pain there still. He didn't look at Jack.
'Really, Ianto. It's okay. You're allowed. I just wish you'd remember the good times you had with Lisa instead of letting the bad repeat itself in your head. I get jealous- you knew that already- but I can get over it, as long as I know there's space for me too, and I do know that. It's the pain I want you to let go of, not her.'

There was a soft sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan. For a second, the cracks in Ianto showed on his face.

They smoothed out an instant later and he sighed again, more deeply this time. He opened his eyes and turned to look at Jack. The agony had passed away again. The bright spark of mischief in them lit up something in Jack, who grinned. Ianto groaned.
'I hate it when you're right, Jack. You'll be insufferably smug all night now.'
'Yep. And you're gonna love it, because I do smug so much better than anyone else on Earth.'

Laughing, Jack rolled over and trapped Ianto underneath. He grinned down at the man and his raised eyebrow.
'Did I mention you're pretty your suit's off?'
'Several times, Captain. Somehow I always took that to mean you prefer me with clothes off, not with casual clothes on' Ianto said lightly. Jack tilted his head in mock confusion.
'What makes you think you were wrong?' he asked, while his hands crept under Ianto's hoodie. The t-shirt underneath wasn't tucked into his jeans, which sent an electric thrill of lust through Jack. Ianto Jones letting his armour slip. Ianto Jones, bare and open to Jack alone.

Ianto Jones literally bare was more common, but Jack still wanted it. Oh, yes. His hand slid over the warm skin of Ianto's belly, stopping to play with the line of fine dark hair he found there, and then following it lower. No belt, either, he noticed, and wondered immediately what kind of underwear he had on. Ianto shifted and arched up to press harder against him. Jack forgot about analysing the underwear and went straight to wanting it gone.

Hoodie, t-shirt, take a moment to appreciate the pale velvety chest with a lick and a kiss. Jack's hands traced the hollows of Ianto's collarbone and flowed down the muscular curves his torso.
'See' he said, quietly pleased. 'So good out of a suit.'
'Jack.'
'Mm?' In reply, Ianto reached up and drew him down into a kiss. Jack smiled as they broke apart, and went back to easing his way down to Ianto's navel, but Ianto wasn't going to lie back and enjoy the attention passively, and Jack was glad. He wanted this to be mutual, without either one taking a dominant role. He wanted to see Ianto's face when he came, up close and easy, and to have Ianto give him the same as he received.

They stripped each other slowly, taking the time to touch and experience the solid muscle of Jack's arms, the fine sculptured lines of Ianto's inner thigh, and the exquisite variation of textures and tastes. Roughness of Ianto's and hands the warmth of Jack's. Little curls of dark hair by Ianto's balls and bare smoothness of Jack's chest.

Gradually, they came closer together, and their movements became mirrors of one another's. Jack was the first to take his lover's cock in his hand, but a second later he gave the same gasp and closed his eyes the same way as Ianto reciprocated. Not for the first time, he felt what Ianto was feeling.

***