Title: Tide
Author: sqyd
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC17
Warnings: none
Spoilers: S1, S2
Word count: 2000
Disclaimers: I don't own Torchwood or any of the characters. If I did, I'd take better care of them.
Summary: The boys spend a day at the beach, and for a change not much happens.
Beta: The wonderful Rootesie without whom I'd be lost on the Welsh shores.
Notes: This is the fragment of a bigger story that I haven't written. I have some ideas what it would be. As it is it's more of a mood piece.

The Rift spiked somewhere in the region of Swansea. It had never been active there before, as far as they knew. Jack didn't even realize the Rift stretched that far. He and Ianto took the SUV, and were off to investigate, leaving Gwen behind to mind the Hub. It was early summer, warm, with a light breeze blowing from the sea. They found the alien object on one of the more remote beaches. Fortunately, being mid-week the beach was empty. The object of their interest was small, about the size of an orange, with irregular groves and ridges in its surface. The material seemed metallic, dull grey, definitely not of Earth origin. Neither of them had any idea what it was, but Ianto thought that he might have seen that material in the archives before. It was inert, and was assessed by all their scanners as harmless. So they put it in a containment box, and that in the back of the SUV.

Since it was such a nice day, and no urgent business waited for them back in Cardiff, they decided to take a stroll down the beach before heading back. Unlike Jack, who always wore the same, and now looked even more out of place, and out of time than usual, Ianto was dressed for the occasion in t-shirt and light cotton chinos. They must have made an odd couple, but there was not a soul to see them, only the seagulls.

Ianto kicked off his shoes and neatly tucked his shed socks into them, before rolling up his trouser legs. He walked down to the edge of the water, just to the point where the waves ebbed away into white foam. A larger wave surged in, contentiously splashing against his shins, leaving dark wet spots on the rolled up trouser legs, but he stood his ground. The water retreated, and Ianto turned to cast a grin at Jack's direction.

Out of the dark suits that made him appear older and somber, Ianto now looked his scant twenty-seven years. From the distance where Jack was standing he appeared blithe and unburdened. For a moment Jack could almost see Ianto as a skinny little kid playing in the shallow water. The young man's smile beckoned Jack to join him, but grinning back he shook his head. He preferred watching him from where he stood. 'Kodak Moment,' he mused.

In hundred and forty years in Torchwood he had seen scores of young men and women come and go. Few of them lived past thirty-five, or even thrity. Alex Hopkins was one of the oldest ones, but in the end he succumbed to the Torchwood curse too. Jack had seen only a handful of them retire, even less with their health, minds, or memories intact. When he took over he thought he could change all that. Consequently, Suzie's death shook him as much as her treachery. He would have tried to save her if she hadn't taken matters in her own hands. Still, he was able to accept her death as an aberration. However when it was Ianto's turn, Jack could not abide by it. He had to try to undo it, despite of the betrayal - that in itself was so achingly messy, so different from Suzie's cold-hearted calculation. So when the cyberwoman he was trying to save broke Ianto's neck, Jack knew he had to try something. The chance of success depended entirely on whether there was some sort of connection between them already, and the fact that he succeeded told him that it was the right thing to do.

When Owen was fatally shot, Jack was still not ready to admit defeat. Even the measure of having Owen at the permanent precipice between life and death seemed better than the finality of the latter. It was when he lost Owen again, and Tosh too, that he resigned himself to the reality that he couldn't do any better than his predecessors. No matter how hard he willed it, he couldn't hold his own immortality like a shield between them and peril. If anything - he admitted bitterly - his presence, his secrets, they attracted more danger. Maybe that's why he was reluctant to hire any new people; he didn't want to be implicated in their demise as well. He would have made Gwen and Ianto leave, and live, but he knew that it was hopeless; they were too stubborn to go, and neither of them had the good sense to accept his reasoning. All he could do is to wait for the inevitable, and secretly hope for a miracle.

He tucked his thoughts away watching Ianto stroll up to him, hair mussed up by the ocean breeze, pink lips curled in a playful smile.

"You are thinking again."

"I was just trying to imagine you as a kid," he lied.

Ianto laughed, but didn't comment. He picked up his shoes, but didn't put them on; his feet were covered in wet sand. Unhurriedly they plotted their path towards the SUV.

"Weedy, always in trouble." Ianto finally said.

"You, in trouble? Inconceivable!" Jack raised his eyebrows in feigned disbelief.

"My father was a department store clerk whose dream was to have his own shop. His father worked on the docks. I'm not sure what he dreamed of, but I'm certain it was something sensible. Me? I wanted to be James Bond, have wild adventures, and shag beautiful women. It's safe to say, I exasperated my dad."

Jack could clearly imagine him now; a smart, lonely kid, cursed by too much imagination and a hunger for the world beyond.

"It worked out though," Ianto went on, swinging his free hand around Jacks waist and hooking his fingers in his belt. "Now I got to have wild adventures chasing aliens, and shag the sexiest guy in Wales." There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he gave Jack a sideways glance.

Jack stopped and pulled Ianto closer, his hands lightly resting on the other's hips.

"Do you miss the beautiful women?" He teased.

"I make do. Nothing in life turns out exactly as you expect it. One has to make concessions."

Jack looked at the fleshy lips, the mockingly twinkling blue eyes, and instantly he knew this would be one of those moments he'd remember long after he forgot most else. He wanted it to last a little longer. Why not, he thought; they deserved a little time just for themselves every once in a while.

"Let's not drive back today. We can stay for the night. I'll call Gwen, she can mind the Hub for another day."

Not waiting for an answer, he kissed Ianto, first softly then more voraciously. They stood, entwined till a flock of ornery seagulls nearly landed on them.

"C'mon." Jack broke off pulling Ianto after him. "I saw a bed and breakfast down the road."

*****************

The B&B was in Mumbles, a quaint little town. It caught Jack's eyes because it was painted canary yellow. It made the otherwise squat little building preposterously cheery and optimistic, like a jolly fat man at a funeral. The middle aged woman checking them in took a long look at them, but didn't bother to comment on their lack of luggage or that they were sharing one room.

They walked to the pier, stopping at every other store window. Ianto ended up grinningly picking out absolutely the tackiest touristy t-shirt in one of the gift shops. He made sure he got one for Jack too, plus a couple for Gwen and Rhys. They should all wear them at the next Torchwood picnic - he insisted. When Jack very sensibly pointed out that they had never had a Torchwood Picnic, Ianto suggested that perhaps it was time to start a new tradition.

It was strange to be just milling around without a purpose or agenda. Jack was expecting Weevils to pop up at every corner, but nothing of the sort happened. Ianto, who of course knew everything as always, was giving him a lecture about the ancient forest once located there, and the various fossils and prehistoric animal bones that were found in caves in the bay. Jack was listening more to the baritone murmur of his voice, then the actual words. They went bowling. Yes, bowling, because the Mumbles pier had a bowling alley, and Ianto thought it would be fun. They were both rubbish at it, but had great time anyway. When they got hungry they stopped at a pub. They ate pub food, and drank the local brew. Well, Jack was drinking water as usual, but Ianto put away a pint or three. It made him adorably flush and talkative.

Back at their room Ianto headed straight to the shower, but Jack stopped him and pulled him down on the bed. He wanted the smell of salty air and sweat on him, and the faint but unmistakable whiff of his 21st century pheromones underneath. He even wanted the smell of the beer and the pub - everything that was their day. He wanted the feel of him, the crisp cotton texture of the shirt that he slowly peeled off, the warmth of the flesh beneath, the smoothness of the skin and the furriness of the chest, the hardened ridges of the nipples.

He inched his way down to his lover's groin, and buried his nose into the thick curls, inhaling Ianto's musk, the scent of his arousal. He took his time, savoring the taste of Ianto's cock as much as his rasping breath and husky moans. Over a century spent in this primitive era, with all the sexual and other hang-ups, yet he couldn't get tired of the people. Maybe he developed a taste for the chase, or maybe because he took time to get to know them, to slip beyond the surface. Maybe it was the other way around and they slipped under his skin. Certainly Ianto did - as much as it scared him to admit it. He ignored the ghosts of past lovers and redoubled his efforts to coax the most filthy Welsh curses out of Ianto, and to use his clever tongue and fingers to tell him all that he couldn't say in words.

He eagerly lapped up Ianto's release, but didn't let him rest; he teased and caressed and nibbled till Ianto was hard again. It was only then that he thrust into him, gasping at the tight hotness. He reveled in the messiness of their coupling, the pungent smell of sex, sweaty skin sliding and slapping against each other, the scratchy hair of Ianto's thighs wrapped tightly around him. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't romantic, but it was very real. He used all his might to hold back, to not come till Ianto began chanting his name with that rapturous look on his face that made Jack's heart twist. It was only then that he let go. It was also when he told him everything, the way he felt, and how it frightened him. He cheated of course, as he always did, because the words weren't in any language Ianto would understand.

He watched Ianto snore softly in his arms. Tomorrow they'd be back in Cardiff, back to chasing aliens, trying to keep the World from falling apart with little more than grit and nerves. He knew the future, but only in the broad strokes; he knew about the human race spreading out into the stars, but it was all useless when he had no idea about what tomorrow would bring. He was stumbling forward as blindly as the locals. The present was the only thing he could be sure about. Ianto murmured something in his sleep and shuffled closer to Jack. Jack pulled the blanket tighter around them and closed his eyes. Sleep took him without him noticing.

Fin

Next story in series - Ebb and Flow.