Title: Badly Written Love Poems, or The Secret to Any Loving Relationship
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 3,450
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and Jack decides that he is going to overload Ianto with sickly-sweet gestures. And terrible poems.
Warnings: Schmoop, schmoop, and more schmoop. It’s a V-Day fic, after all! And if I don’t get schmoop in my life, then the boys will just have to.
A/N: This was supposed to be a “date got interrupted by Rift alert” fic. Obviously, that’s not how it ended up. Also, I fudged the timelines and pretended that Tosh and Owen were alive for “Stolen Earth”, and that Donna is still the Doctor’s companion after it. Because, fuck RTD. Fuck him to hell. With pineapples.

           “A date?”

            “Yup.”

            “A date on Valentine’s Day?”

            “Yup.”

            Ianto was having a hard time understanding Jack’s request. “You want to go on a date, with me, on Valentine’s Day?”

            “Well I wouldn’t want to go with anyone else.” Jack was, apparently, growing peeved with Ianto’s difficulty understanding.

            “What about the Rift?” Okay, so maybe Ianto was giving in to the idea. Just a little bit.

            “We’ll get Owen and Tosh to cover for the day. Anything they can’t handle themselves, they’ll call us up.”

            “That’s kind of an insult to Tosh, don’t you think?”

            Jack crossed his arms and leaned back, obviously quite pleased with himself. “You kidding me? She’ll thank me: I just forced her and Owen to spend Valentine’s Day together.”

            Ianto wracked his brain, but he couldn’t think of any other excuses. Jack really had planned the whole thing out well. A bit too well, really: Jack wasn’t exactly the planning type. “Should I be worried?”

            “Worried over what? Listen, Ianto,” Jack stood up and walked around his desk to place a hand on Ianto’s neck. “just go home tonight, don’t think too hard about it. Sleep in tomorrow, drink some coffee, and I’ll be around at eleven to pick you up for lunch. Alright?”

            Ianto felt himself lean into the touch slightly. Well, that clinched it: Jack was up to something, but his suggestions for tomorrow sounded too good to pass up. “Alright, alright, fine. But when I find out what you’re planning, and I will,” Ianto wrapped a hand around Jack’s waist and pulled him close, “I’ll get you back for it.”

            “Oh, looking forward to it.” They kissed vigorously, but Ianto pulled away before fingers could start fumbling over clothing.

            “See you tomorrow, Captain.”

***

            Ianto woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee brewing. Startled, he jumped out of bed, running to the kitchen in bare feet and pajama bottoms. There was no one there, but a cup of coffee sat innocuously next to a freshly brewed pot. Cautiously, Ianto stalked over to the coffee, still glancing around his flat suspiciously. Front door shut and locked, windows shut and locked…hurm.

            When he reached the coffee, Ianto noticed a piece of paper wedged beneath it. Lifting the cup to his lips, he extracted the piece of paper and read the note. Not going to let you work at all today, not even for coffee. Check the stove for your breakfast. Then eat it in front of the t.v.

            The note wasn’t signed, but it didn’t need to be. As if Ianto wouldn’t recognize Jack’s handwriting. As Ianto sipped Jack’s coffee – not terrible, but not his – he obediently opened up the stove to find an egg, bacon, and toast breakfast waiting for him, still warm. Ianto continued onto his living room, sipping at his coffee and balancing his tray of food in his other hand.

            Settling in front of his television, Ianto curled his legs underneath him and turned it on. He was curious as to exactly what Jack could have planned for his telly. Sneaking in and making him breakfast and coffee, no problem: Jack had a key for that. But his television?

            A DVD menu appeared, with only one option for him to select: Play me, you sexy minx! Begrudgingly, Ianto selected the option. Not that his selecting it meant that he agreed with the sentiment.

            On the television, Jack appeared. He was sitting behind his office desk, having apparently set the camera up on one of the chairs on the opposite side of him. “Hey Ianto!" Ianto caught himself before he could return the greeting. It was a recording, after all. “I really wish you didn’t sleep with clothes on, it would make my job Valentine’s Day morning so much more fun.” Ianto blushed at the thought of Jack peering in to look at him while he slept. “But, you’re awake now, so I just thought I’d give you a heads up: make sure you’re out of the shower and listening for the door at nine and ten. And, if you feel like it,” tv-Jack leaned forward and made puppy dog eyes at the camera, “could you wear the red waistcoat and matching shirt and tie outfit? I like you in red.” Tv-Jack leered and winked. “Alright, I’ll see you at eleven! Smooches!”

            Ianto narrowed his eyes as he munched on his bacon. Make sure he was listening for the door at nine and ten? What the hell was Jack planning? Ianto took a swig of his coffee as he contemplated. Well, he might be sending him a strip-o-gram. That could be fun. A nice fireman to warm him up this cold February day…Ianto’s eyes glazed over a bit as his mouth slid open at the thought.

            Snapping himself out of his reverie, Ianto checked the time. It was already 8:30. Best leave the shower for after nine, then. In the meantime, Ianto finished off his breakfast, brewed himself a fresh batch of coffee, (no reason for Jack to know) and made the bed. He noted, with some satisfaction, that Jack appeared to have cleaned the dishes that he used to make him breakfast.

            At exactly 9:00 the doorbell rang. Ianto had tugged on a dressing gown, not wanting to bother getting dressed when he was about to shower anyway. Cautiously he peered out the peep-hole. He couldn’t make out much, besides a wash of red. Sighing, Ianto opened the door, unsure of what lay beyond except that it was red. “Are you Ianto Jones?”

            Ianto blinked. A giant bouquet of red roses just spoke to him. Or, at least, the bouquet was so large that it blocked from view the man holding them, giving it the appearance of sentience and speech. “Er…yeah. That’s me.”

            “Alright then, here you go. Oh, and there’s apparently a message I’m supposed to read out.”

            With some struggle, Ianto took the bouquet from the man and peered around them. The man was flushing a red to match the roses as he contemplated the message he was supposed to read to Ianto. “Sorry about this, mate.” Sighing, he recited, completely dead-pan: “You look so good in red / but even better in bed / so tonight we’ll combine them/ and have sex on the rose petals. My lovely Welsh gem.” Now it was Ianto’s turn to blush as red as the roses. “Like I said, sorry mate. Also, you should probably get a girlfriend that’s a bit better with the rhymes.”

            Ianto rubbed his face with a free hand. “Boyfriend, actually. Is that all?”

            The man blushed again. With all the blood rushing to people’s faces this morning, Ianto was surprised neither had passed out yet. “Right, sorry about that, mate. Uh, here’s the, um, poem.” The man slipped the scrap of paper he had read Jack’s poem off of between two of Ianto’s fingers, and immediately scurried away.

            With some difficulty Ianto managed to maneuver the roses onto his kitchen table. He stared at them, exasperated. How on earth was he supposed to fit them in a vase? Sighing, Ianto stopped up one side of his sink and filled it with water, making it a temporary vase for his roses. That would at least keep them fresh until tonight.

            Glancing back down at the poem written in Jack’s scrawl, Ianto smiled. He walked to the bathroom for his shower, tucking the paper into the edge of his mirror. It was sweet, in a Jack sort of way.

            Forty-five minutes later Ianto was showered, shaved, styled, dressed, and waiting patiently in his living room for his next surprise. Sure enough, at precisely 10:00, his doorbell rang. Jack must have paid extra for the precise timing. Ianto didn’t even bother looking through the peephole, and instead opted for flinging open the door, shocking the deliveryman on the other side.

            “Do you have an embarrassing poem as well?”

            The deliveryman, who appeared to be holding a bouquet made up of…coffee? Coffee beans? Chocolate covered coffee beans?... nodded sheepishly. “I got paid an extra hundred quid to read it out-loud. Sorry, mate.”

            Ianto nodded and waved his wrist. “Alright, get it over with.”

            “Roses are good / but your coffee is my food / so here’s some coffee for you / though I’d rather drink you.”

            Ianto considered. “Actually, that one had a better meter and rhyme scheme than the last one. He’s getting better.” Ianto took the card and coffee-bouquet from the embarrassed deliveryman, thanking him.

            Sighing, Ianto put the coffee-themed bouquet on his kitchen counter. Carefully unwrapping the cellophane, Ianto examined the contents. Some of them were chocolate covered coffee beans, but some were packs of increasingly rare beans and grinds. Ianto raised his eyebrows. This had cost a lot.

            Ianto stuck the second poem on his fridge with a magnet as he brewed himself a cup of a bean he had always wanted to try.

**

            True to the precision that he had demonstrated already today, Jack rang Ianto’s doorbell at exactly 11:00. Ianto flung open the door and greeted him with a coffee-flavored kiss. Jack “mmph-ed” in surprise, but quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around Ianto, reciprocating the kiss.

            When Ianto pulled back, Jack licked his lips. “Mm. Trying out your new blends?”

            Ianto nodded, arms still wrapped around Jack. “Got a cup waiting just for you.”

            Jack followed Ianto into his flat, squeezing his arse once. Ianto rolled his eyes. “Better make it to go, Ianto. We’ve got reservations.”

            “Reservations?” Ianto quirked an eyebrow, but transferred the coffee to a travel mug.

            “Mmhmm…” Jack sighed as he sipped the coffee. “Special plans.” Jack’s eyes were closed in delight at the taste of the coffee, but then snapped open. “Oh, but I have a present for you before we go.”

            Before Ianto could suggest they skip lunch in favor of a proper present, Jack pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket. Oh no, not another one. Jack cleared his throat and plunged ahead. “Oh Ianto, my sexy man / you have the most lovely can / I want to squeeze and lick you all the time / but right now I have to eat food, not you, which is a crime.”

            Jack grinned happily as Ianto groaned, face in his hands. “How many more have you written?”

            “Four.”

            “Fuck.”

**

            Ianto marveled at the posh place Jack took him for lunch. He really was going all-out for Valentine’s Day, cheesy poems aside. They were just finishing off their wine, Ianto fending off Jack’s wandering hands with less and less conviction, when a quartet of waiters appeared at their table. Jack straightened in his seat and beamed. “Oh no, Jack. Not in public.”

            The waiters opened their mouths and sang, barber-shop quartet style: “This may have been a wonderful lu-unch / but I think you have a hu-unch / our day is not over, not so very soon / because I’ve got things to show you, yet, that will make you swoon.”

            Jack leaned in, and, low enough so that no once else could hear, sang to Ianto “And, I, don’t, mean, my penis…”

            Ianto’s head hit the table with a resounding thud. Next year he was going to fake a Rift alert, just to avoid all of this hassle.

**

            “Oh, but Ianto, you look so cute when you’re embarrassed!”

            Ianto stared straight ahead, jaw clenching rhythmically. “If you call me ‘cute’ again, Jack Harkness, I swear you’re not getting laid for a week.”

            Jack rushed to make amends. “But Ianto, I’m doing all this for you! Don’t you like it?”

            They were walking toward the SUV after lunch. Jack, apparently, had two more stops for them to make before he would let Ianto drag him back to the apartment and fuck him mercilessly. Jack reached out and grabbed Ianto’s gloved hand, rubbing his thumb reassuringly over it. “Hey, I swear, the next thing is really, really amazing. You’re gonna love it.” Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Promise!” Jack nodded vigorously, obviously trying to convince Ianto of his sincerity.

            “Alright, fine. Lead the way.”

            During the car ride, Ianto admitted to himself that this day had been incredibly romantic, if not a bit on the sappy side. Jack had planned all this out, after all. Planned it out, executed it precisely, and covered for any eventualities, apparently. Ianto let his hand come to rest on Jack’s thigh as he drove. Jack glanced away from the road for a moment to smile at him. Alright, so this was probably the best Valentine’s Day he had ever had. But Jack didn’t need to know that.

            “We’re here.”

            “The beach? I may be Welsh, Jack, but even we don’t go swimming in February.”

            Jack leaned across the center console and snogged Ianto firmly. “Stop with that Welsh complaining and just come on.”

            Oh, Jack’s kisses could make Ianto do almost anything. Grumbling, Ianto undid his seatbelt and slid out into the cold air. Jack grabbed his hand in his again and dragged him down the beach. Glancing down, Ianto thought that maybe Jack was holding his hand today because he had forgotten gloves. Then again, knowing Jack, he had forgotten his gloves on purpose just so he would have an excuse to hold Ianto’s hand.

            A ways down the beach, and out of sight of the road, Ianto caught sight of a blue police box. “Is that…” Sure enough, a beaming Doctor and Donna were waving at them, standing next to the TARDIS. “Jack, what did you do?”

            Jack shrugged. “Called in a favor. Kind of.” Jack contemplated this for a moment. “Actually, I don’t think he owed me a favor. Does that mean I owe him a favor now…”

            “Jack, my boy! And this must be Ianto! Hi Ianto!” Ianto waved cautiously back at the enthusiastically waving Doctor. Next to him, Donna was bouncing giddily.

            “Oh, I remember you from outer-space Facebook! You’re cute, just like your boyfriend! Oh, bugger it all, Doctor, why are all you handsome men aliens or Timelords or gay?”

            “Oi!” Ianto protested. “I’m not…just…”

            Jack silenced him with a firm kiss on his cheek. “Oh, stop denying it. Now…” he rubbed his hands together and nodded.

            “Oh, right, right, the poem.” The Doctor nodded and looked at Donna. “You remember your parts?”

            Donna shoved him. “Come off it, I should be asking you the same! Just start.”

            “Well, alright then, no need to get insulting. Okay, so it went: ‘I wanted to show you someplace/’

            Donna picked up the next line, giggling, “where we hadn’t had sex,/”

            “And then I wanted to have sex in space/”

            “But the Doctor wouldn’t let me. Next.”

            Ianto stared in bafflement at the Timelord and his companion, before turning to Jack. “That didn’t even rhyme!”

            “No, I switched it to AB/AB format, ‘someplace’ with ‘space’ and ‘sex’ with ‘next’.”

            “What does ‘next’ even mean?!”

            “I don’t know, I couldn’t think of anything else to rhyme with sex!”

            The Doctor waved at the arguing Jack and Ianto, trying to get their attention. “Yes, hello? We really need to get going, soon. So if you could just, pop in, look around…”

            Jack nodded. “Right! Ianto, come on, I wanted to show you the inside of the TARDIS.”

            Ianto begrudgingly allowed himself to be dragged into the TARDIS, leaning back to apologize to Donna and the Doctor as he passed them “I’m sorry about all this, I really am. I didn’t know he was planning anything…”

            The Doctor winked at Ianto. “Well, knowing Jack like I do, that’s pretty impressive that he could plan all this without you knowing.”

            Ianto sighed. Donna patted him on the back as he stepped into the TARDIS. “Hey, I should be so lucky as to have a handsome man like Jack running all around the universe, planning stuff for me.”

             Ianto was about to think of a witty retort, but whatever he was going to say died on his lips as he entered the TARDIS. “Whoa…”

            For a moment, Ianto just stood there, taking it in. It was like no piece of alien technology he had ever seen. “It’s bigger on the inside…” he wondered.

            “Just like-”

            “Stop it…” The Doctor had bounded in behind them with Donna, and was staring down Jack. To his surprise, Ianto saw Jack ruefully clamp his mouth shut.

            The Doctor stepped past Ianto and nodded his head. “So, you wanna see how she works?”

            Ianto’s eyes lit up. “If it’s not too much trouble, sir.”

            The Doctor grinned wide. “Never too much trouble, come along!”

            A warm hand clamped down on Ianto’s shoulder as he started toward the center console. “I thought you only called me ‘sir’?”

            Ianto patted Jack’s hand and extracted it gently. “Well, he’s not exactly bad-looking, is he, Jack?” Ianto wiggled his eyebrows at Jack as he bounded over to the Doctor. Ianto stared around the TARDIS in awe as the Doctor demonstrated the different levers and gears that worked the TARDIS. “How can you work it properly if you need to do something on this side of the console and that side at the same time?”

            The Doctor beamed at Ianto, then turned to wink at Jack approvingly. “You bagged yourself a clever one, Jack.”

            Jack shrugged. “I try.”

            “Well, you see, the TARDIS is actually meant to have six pilots, not just little old me…”

**

            Jack and Ianto held hands outside the TARDIS as they waved goodbye to the Doctor and Donna. As the TARDIS vanished from sight, Ianto turned to Jack. “Alright, that was cool.”

            Jack kissed Ianto soundly. “Only the best for you. Now come on,” Jack grinned, “one more place before back home.”

**

            Ianto gasped at the sight that greeted him on the roof of Cardiff’s tallest building. Jack had set up a table for two, complete with covered dinners, candles, and a chilling bottle of champagne. The lights of the city glittered and twinkled beneath them as night fell. Ianto sighed. “You’ve gone through too much trouble.”

            Jack smiled softly. “Never too much trouble.” Ianto looked away, blushing. “Here, let me get your seat.”

            “I’m not a girl, Jack.”

            “No, you’re right, that’s me, isn’t it?”

            “You beg for my cock like one.”

            “Oh! Wait, that reminds me, before you eat…”

            Ianto raised an incredulous eyebrow. “How can me talking about you begging for my cock remind you of something?” He stopped wondering when he saw Jack pull out another scrap of paper. “Oh no.”

            Jack smiled as he looked down at it. “Well, at least we’re not in public this time.”

            Ianto popped the champagne and poured himself a glass as he nodded. “Thank God for small miracles.”

            “Ahem.” Jack cleared his throat. “Our night is almost at an end/ and I can’t wait to test out how well you can bend/ but for now we’ll eat this food/ which I hope tastes really good.”

            Ianto smirked. “That one wasn’t terrible.”

            Jack smiled proudly as they tucked into their meals.

**

            Sweaty and happy, Ianto sighed against Jack’s chest later that night. “I don’t think I ever told you happy Valentine’s Day.”

            Jack pressed a kiss to his forehead, squeezing him reassuringly. “It was pretty good, if I do say so myself.”

            Lazily, Ianto peppered kisses on Jack’s chest. “I’m probably going to regret asking this, but wasn’t there one last poem?”

            “Oh, yeah.” Beneath him Jack squirmed and stretched, and Ianto carefully disentangled himself. Jack reached into Ianto’s nightstand drawer and pulled out a larger piece of paper than the previous poems were written on. Ianto hauled himself into a sitting position and settled against Jack’s chest. Jack kissed the top of his head again as he wrapped an arm around Ianto and pulled him close. Smiling, Ianto closed his eyes as Jack read.

“Oh my Ianto, you are so dear to me,

holding you in my arms fills me with glee,

I’m happy you tricked me into hiring you,

because without Mwyfawny, I would have never met you,”

(Ianto ignored the fact that Jack just rhymed “you” with itself.)

“I hope you’ve had a wonderful Valentine’s Day,

because I tried my best to not just make it about a lay.

The roses, coffee, TARDIS and meals,

were all ways of showing you how I feel.

So I hope you understand, even if I don’t say it in words

and I hope you feel the same, otherwise…nerds.”

            Ianto laughed softly, but his heart wasn’t in it. Instead he cupped Jack’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Jack.”

            “Happy Valentine’s Day, Ianto.”