branwen_blaidd

Title: Maybe

Pairing: Jack/Ianto

Rating: Adult- sexual concepts.
Spoilers: Series 1 and 2

Summary: Pre-Cyberwoman, Jack watches Ianto and wonders.

Disclaimers: I own nothing.

Notes: Comments please!

Ianto Jones is the cleaner. He’s a good cleaner, the best, and there’s something about him which makes Jack watch, even when he’s only collecting litter.

Maybe it’s the ass. Jack lets his eyes wander down to Ianto’s tight backside, the way it looks in his snug suit trousers. Jack has always liked a tight ass. It has always been something he looks for, whatever the gender, the species, a tight ass is always a plus. And this new boy, this inscrutable young man, has the perfect ass.

But maybe it isn’t that. Jack likes the ass, of course, likes to watch the way it moves beneath Ianto’s trousers, but it’s not what draws his eye.

Perhaps it’s the smile. It’s a good smile. It spreads across Ianto’s smooth, boyish face but no further. It never reaches his eyes, well not since that night in the warehouse.

Jack thinks about that night a lot: the warmth between them; the softness of their breath on each other’s faces; the hardness of each other’s bodies; the light in Ianto’s eyes.

Ianto is smiling at him now, standing looking back at him. “Coffee, Sir?”

Perhaps it’s the coffee. It’s the best coffee, rich and strong. Ianto makes a perfect cup every single time. Jack likes to test this ability.

“Sure. You know how I like it,” Jack says, glad of the excuse to go closer to Ianto.

He’s close enough now to smell Ianto. Jack’s getting used to the smell of Ianto around the place, joining the combined scent of the team and their work. Ianto smells of shampoo, a sweet, clean smell, and of fresh coffee. Jack wants to bring Ianto closer, to transfer that scent to his own skin.

Ianto puts down the bin bag he is holding and moves over to the little kitchen area. Jack follows him, stands with him and watches intently as Ianto makes the coffee with sure, skilful hands.

Maybe this is why. Maybe it’s the hands. Those soft, large, young hands. The skill. Jack likes to think about what else those hands are good at: gripping, caressing, holding. Jack watches Ianto’s thumb firm on the coffee scoop, tipping the hand-ground coffee into the cafetière. The rich scent of coffee fills Jack’s nostrils.

“It’s like sex,” Jack whispers.

Ianto glances up at him, frowns quizzically and there’s a look in his eyes which is deeper than the confusion. It’s almost a hope.

“What is?” he asks, mouth wet and red. He’s breathing harder than normal.

“Coffee,” said Jack. “The way you make coffee.”

Ianto blinks at him, then blushes and looks down, back at his cafetière. He pours in the boiled water.

“I don’t know what kind of sex you’ve been having,” Ianto says. It’s a flustered attempt at humour.

Jack shrugs. “Not that much actually. Wanna help me out?”

There’s a pause. It’s a heavy pause, filled with chemistry, longing, heat. This is their language.

“Is this why you’re so short on staff?” says Ianto, shifting a little. “The sexual harassment?”

Jack grins. “I’m not short on staff. I just prefer a smaller team. Anyway, you’re the only one I harass.”

Ianto smirks as he gets the cups ready. Jack is pleased to see that he intends to join Jack in his evening cup of coffee.

“I’m special, am I?” Ianto asks.

Jack beams. He wants to reach out and touch Ianto but he hasn’t been invited. It’s an unspoken rule. Jack does not touch without permission.

Jack watches Ianto’s face as he pours the coffee. Maybe it’s his eyes. Pale blue, they are. Jack wants them to shine but they don’t. They look like they should shine but they’re sad instead, dull, almost lifeless. Jack wants to put the sparkle back in those eyes, the sparkle he saw back in the warehouse.

Ianto is special. All those parts of him: his smile, his hands, the coffee, the wit always lurking on the tip of his hot, wet tongue.

Jack shifts. Ianto has finished pouring the coffee and is leaning down to retrieve the biscuit tin from its cupboard. Jack tries to put his lustful thoughts away, though this always seems to be harder to do when he’s with Ianto.

“Yes,” he says. “You are special.”

Ianto blinks at him. “Pardon?”

“You asked if you were special, well, you are.”

Ianto blushes and Jack smiles, enjoying the sight of it.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Jack grins and lifts his coffee cup to his mouth. He takes a small sip. Perfect, of course.

Ianto picks up his own mug and holds it close to his body. He looks thoughtful.

“The coffee’s wonderful,” says Jack, hoping to engage Ianto in further conversation.

Ianto glances at him. “Not too hot?”

“No. Course not.” He doesn’t admit he’s burned his tongue.

Ianto smiles, then turns his head on one side and gazes at the floor. He’s thinking, about whatever it is Ianto thinks about. Jack wants to see inside that head, wants to understand the solemn young man.

Jack inches closer. “Are you staying for a little while tonight?”

Ianto tenses a little. Jack knows he wants to stay but something is stopping him. There is something in Ianto’s head, something in his life which makes him hesitate, each time Jack asks him to stay. Jack senses there is something which pulls at the young man, tugging him in separate directions. Jack wants to soothe him, help him chose, help him chose Jack.

But Jack is not allowed to do such things. He’s not allowed to ask. He’s allowed to look. He’s allowed to touch, when invited. He’s not allowed to kiss that beautiful mouth.

“Ianto,” Jack whispers. He shifts closer, puts his arm around Ianto’s waist and leans in close. “Stay,” he murmurs and presses a soft kiss to Ianto’s jaw.

Ianto leans in to Jack. He wants to stay. He always wants to stay. “I…shouldn’t,” he says.

Jack tugs him closer. “Stay.” Jack wants the comfort of another body close by late at night, he wants the comfort of Ianto close by him. He still doesn’t know why.

“I can’t,” says Ianto, leaning in and breathing raggedly as Jack kisses his neck and holds him snug against his body.

Ianto will stay. Jack smiles as he pushes a hand in between their bodies and strokes. He wraps his other hand firmly around Ianto’s body, feeling the tremor in the young man’s body. Ianto will stay. Ianto always stays.

But still, Jack wants more. They can share their body heat, share a little passion, a little lightness. But Jack wants more. He wants Ianto to share himself.

Ianto Jones is the cleaner. But he’s more. He has that something which makes Jack watch, makes Jack want, makes Jack crave. And perhaps Ianto craves too. Perhaps one day, Ianto will let Jack kiss him, explore him, know him. One day. Maybe.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

amcpep.livejournal.com

Oh wow. I really shouldn't read these when hubbie wants to talk. He doesn't take kindly to being ignored. Not really ignored, I didn't even realise he was speaking I was so involved in reading this. Left me breathless. The fic, not him! :)

emyrldlady.livejournal.com

That's just lovely! Romantic, and deep.

jantoforever21.livejournal.com

This [brilliant] piece of fiction is happy but sad (of you think about it). I mean, Ianto wants to stay (and everything), and eventually he starts to fancy Jack (possibly even before Cyber woman), but he knows that if he does that, he's betraying Lisa.

remuslives23.livejournal.com

Ooooh! I love this in ways that are unnatural but I don't care because it is BRILLIANT! That last bit actually made me breathless. Wow! Love it, love it, love it!