Title: Maybe It Was Too Good To Be True
By: Daffidill
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: AO
Summary: In which Ianto talks himself out of a depression, seen as Jack is still out there, somewhere...

***

1. Maybe it was too good to be true...

Three months now… Well, yesterday – not that I'm counting. It's just that the day has been engraved into my brain.

Three months since The Kiss.

Jack had put his hands on my head and planted his mouth on mine and confirmed to me and everybody else in the room that he loved me.

Me! Ianto Jones, little insignificant errand-boy, ignored by the others most of the time, unless they want coffee, or pizza, or the place is a tip. Until that day.

For a while I felt so happy. All my doubts had vanished like smoke on a windy day. All my months – what did I say: years – of not really knowing what I wanted, whom I wanted, after Lisa had died, had seemed unimportant. He'd always been special to me, but I never knew why. I just felt attracted to him, like I had done one of my teachers at school. He was like one of my teachers… And I fancied girls. So that was simple. And every blue moon a girl would fancy me back.

But with Jack it was different – he's strong, confident, decisive, will lay his life on the line for others, which he has done and that cost him dearly. Almost. And he's funny. And bloody good looking...

Most importantly though: he made me feel special. I've never felt special. Apart from my mother, nobody ever took a lot of notice of me. Youngest of three boys, who were both very special to my dad. He only noticed me when he needed someone to bully. My brothers were sporty, clever, real men. I detested sports, hated fights and liked talking to girls.

Should've been a clue…

Lisa made me feel special. She was strong, decisive. But there was something that she wasn't. And that something I couldn't pretend not to need anymore as time went on.

She wasn't a man…

And Jack so was…. is...

After he'd kissed me (oh, the memory of his mouth on mine, his lips playing with mine, his tongue gently mingling with mine...) and made up with Owen, and we all were slowly getting over the shock of what had happened earlier that day, we all had a chat together. I was on a cloud – one of those silly pink ones that girls in stupid films seem to always be on. Jack kept giving me that look, and I couldn't have been happier. Until that blue box landed out of nowhere…

Bloody blue box…

Jack had mentioned it before – he talked about The Doctor like he was some sort of God. His eyes would light up if He ever was the subject of conversation. The Doctor, saving planets all over the place, past and future. What the hell would he want me for, if he had Mr. Perfect to fly around the universe with! Bet his coffee is better than mine…

Fuck, fuck, fuck….

Three months they've been gone now. Once, Jack said, they'd been gone for a year… A year! Sometimes it was as little as two hours.

So after sitting in his office for three hours, the others went to the pub. I stayed, for another 5 hours.

Well, you're a idiotically loyal errand boy or you're not…

And now I'm in my front room, feeling very sorry for myself, re-reading the sixth Harry Potter book, not being able to concentrate, looking out over the rooftops of Cardiff… Life sucks. It has rained for days now, and there's that feeling in the town, where most people find it hard to keep smiling... Gwen and the others asked me out to the pub last night, and we had a good time, laughed, I danced with Tosh, which was fun. And life is getting back to some sort of normal, whatever that means these days. The woman downstairs still needs to moan about the bin bags not being put on the right spot on the pavement, my mum still needs to know if all is okay with me every other day. Think I'll go and make myself another cup of tea in a moment.

There's a knock on the door…

Who the fuck wants me this time of… Oh it's only five in the afternoon…

I walk towards the door, expecting fully that miss Brown from downstairs will give me a lecture on rats and other creatures. Nobody else has got the key to the front door...

As I open the door, I feel a thunderbolt going through me - one of the Weevils turning up on my doorstep would've made less of an impression right then.

"Jack!" I utter, just a bit too desperate.

He grinned back at me. "Hello gorgeous," I hear through a haze of confusion and Ecstasy. "I'm back..."

***

2. This isn't really happening... is it?

"What do you want?" I ask him. After the reality has sunk in, anger is flowing out freely. Jack looks at me with a mixture of surprise and guilt.

"Can I come in?"

I open the door enough to give him space. He stops and turns to me – I'm not really sure what to do now. Part of me wants to punch him, hurt him so much that he gets an idea if how bad I feel. Another part wants to be held by him, feel his arms around me and pretend that all is well again.

I'm going with the part that can't decide either way and move to close the door. Jack is still standing there, looking sheepish and starts to talk.

"You're looking good," he says. Which is bollocks. Good? Well, I feel fucking awful…

"So do you," I answer him. And he does, as always.

Small talk… We're doing small talk…

Something snaps inside me.

"Three months, Jack!" I yell at him suddenly. "Not a word. We've all been going spare, not knowing whether you'd come back or not… Nice out there, was it? Saving the universe, or whatever you were up to. I didn't know… I was…"

"Sorry," he said.

"Sorry!" I make my way to the kitchen to get some space between me and him – the urge to punch him was getting the upper hand.

"Sorry, that should do it? You can't do that to people, Jack, You can't. Not to me…" I'd really like to cry now, but death would be more likely than Jack seeing me blob.

"I know…" he says. I turn around so that he can't see me, and I feel him come closer, feel his warmth approaching. Hold me please!

No.

"We kept the place running fine without you," I bitch at him. "We don't need you."

I turn around and see the look in his eyes. Is that hurt? Or love? What the bloody hell goes on inside that man's head?

Then Jack starts telling me about the mission that he went on, how he nearly couldn't come back, that he nearly lost everything, how I was the only thing that kept him going. My love for him, and how much of an idiot he realised he was to allow himself to lose that. He touched my hand, I feel his warm fingers play with mine. My anger has gone now, love has taken over. I need to feel him, touch him.

But how can I? Have I no backbone? Are sweet words enough to win me over?

Jack has taken my hands in his, one of them moves over to my face, strokes my cheek, and it feels so nice…

Ianto, pull yourself together, right now… He's messing with your head…

His hand are now in my hair. He's leaning forward to kiss me. Oh God, those lips again… I can't… I shouldn't…

Oh fuck it… Three months I've waited for this. I'll do the pride-thing later…

I'm kissing him back now, taste his tongue on mine, remember how brilliantly he does that. He moves closer to me, his hands pressing me closer still. Then he stops kissing me, looks into my eyes.

"What is it?" I whisper.

"I think I'm… " his gaze is still fixed and he smiles. "I need you, Ianto. I think I'm just a bit slow on the uptake…" His lips are back on mine now and then he just holds me.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It's later in the evening now. Jack is gone. I've been sitting on the sofa, trying to make sense of what happened earlier. Maybe I really am going mad…

After we finished kissing, we talked a little more, and then we walked to the bedroom, which was a bit of a mess. Wasn't expecting visitors, obviously… Not there, anyway.

Jack had a look around, then he smiled at me. "Glad to see you're not totally perfect, young man… You're human like the rest of… well, that lot out there…"

And before I get time to feel awkward, he kisses me again, his hands on my head, then move lower down, to my back, stroking my t-shirt, working their way underneath, lifting it higher and over my head. I hear it fall softly to the floor - this is wonderful, he's gentle, and strong at the same time... I feel his warm hands rub my body, his kisses all over my skin. He kneels down to kiss my abs, undoes the buttons of my jeans and deftly slides the lot down, leaving me stark naked and Jack on eye-level with my very excited eh.. thing. Jack gets undressed amazingly fast, and within seconds we're making love as if nothing had ever happened. He's very kind, tender, passionate, strong and very much in charge. His stroking and kissing make me go wild, feeling his mouth go all over me is divine and when it moves over my dick, it makes me come with a violent explosion.

It feels so good… Three months of frustration and unhappiness wiped away in one strong, earth shattering orgasm, and a few aftershocks…

Jack holds me, we lay on the bed, still, happy. I'm slightly confused about what I feel, how lovely it has been to have done this. I feel a bit nervous returning the favour – not sure if I can equal his perfection. I start exploring his body, and it feels so different to the girls that I'vie been with – his muscles, the power, his arms, his shoulders, his abdomen – fuck me, he's fit…

He groans when I kiss his stomach, whimpers when I lick him down there. He's so hard and big. Jack impatiently waits for me for carry on and I continue licking hem, he slides his hands in my hair. He's so ready, so close…

And then with a jolt I remember how bloody awful I felt only yesterday, how thinking of him made me feel sick with sadness, how rotten he'd made me feel, all that time, when I was ready to love him, with all my heart. He hasn't earnt this…

I get off him, move to the other side of the bed.

"What the… Ianto? Are you o.k.?"

"I think you'd better go." I say.

"What? You can't do this… I'm…"

"Doesn't feel very nice, now, does it?"

I get up and go to the bathroom. There I cry.

***

3. Moving on

It's been three weeks now (what is it with three?)...

Three very long weeks. I'm starting to seriously doubt my mental abilities. The others obviously do – they're very busy avoiding talking to me. I suppose it could be to do with my narky personality of late…

I feel like I've betrayed Jack, done something a low as this. Never thought myself capable… I spent another hour on the sofa, staring into the distance, trying to make sense of my actions... I kept seeing his face. The look on it was awful. A mixture of shock and amazement, and I felt sorry for him. But it was the only thing that I could do. I couldn't carry on, pretend to want to make love to him. All I felt was disgust, with myself, anger with him, sadness about the whole situation. Jack looks like he feels all of those thing as well now.

Work carries on as always, albeit without all the drama from last year. We all talk, we discuss cases, we figure stuff out, but Jack is also busy keeping away from me. And then I catch him staring at me, from his office.

I'm a bigger part of the team now, seems they need more of me than my brilliant coffee making skills and filing-abilities… I'm in the filing-room now, hiding from the rest, I love the peace and quiet. Space to think… Fun stuff like: what shall I get my mother for her birthday? Have run out of milk yet? Do I still want him? Would he want me back if I forgave him? Who should forgive whom! Has my act of severe cruelty evened out his careless leaving? Does it matter? Maybe we should just move on, admit defeat. What do we really know about each other?

"Thanks for the coffee," I suddenly hear Owen's voice say. Gratitude? From him? Where will it end? And why is he here? I give him a smile, carry on with my work.

"Even though I really don't care, I think he's an idiot for letting you go," he goes on.

Letting me go? What's he on about?

"I mean, you know, I'm not… It's just… Oh fuck!"

"Spit it out, Owen, what?"

"I'm sick and tired of the both of you moping around the place all the time, pretending to not care and all that. You're obviously still completely in love with each other…. Can't you just sort it out, so we can all get on with our work. There, said it. Now you both know… See you…"

He what! Did he just say both?

Great…

When Owen has left the room, I sit down on the chair that is by the desk, close to throwing myself into the Irish Sea… Why did he have to go and do that? Idiot…

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Leaving time is always fun, these days… As I go out, I make sure it's with Tosh and Gwen. Just like today. Jack is the only one still there, and he gives us a wave, his eyes lingering on me a little – or do I imagine that? The girls are talking nonsense about one of the cases, and Gwen leaves us to meet Rhys for a drink.

"You okay?" says Tosh, as we walk to the cars. From my lame smile she can tell that "yeah, fantastic" would have been a lie.

"Idiots, aren't they? Men…" she carries on, smiling.

"All of them? Us…" I answer.

"Pretty much yeah… All the ones I know, anyway. Happier to pretend all is well, hoping that matters of the heart will just miraculously solve themselves and then they're annoyed that they don't… Maybe you should just give it a try. You never know what might happen… Try out some of the girlie-stuff – you might as well…."

I smile at her. Ready to dismiss the whole idea. As I drive home, 18 different scenarios pass by in my mind. All of them end with Jack walking off. On his own… None of them have him sitting on the stairs in front of my flat-door. Which is where I find him, leaning against the wall, head lazily hanging.

"Hi," he says. Can't make out whether he's jolly or angry or on his guard – he's put on his cool mask.

"You waiting for me?" I ask him. Duh… what else would he be doing outside my flat?

"I want to talk… we need to sort this out, can we? Please?"

I shrug my shoulders, get past him and open the door. Girlie-stuff. I'll give it a go.

Jack takes a seat at my kitchen table, after following me in.

"How did you get here?" I try to break the ice.

"Teleporting… Great invention…" he smiles, showing me the wristwatch-thing that never leaves his body. Well, it did the other day.

I smile at him. I think I'm ready to move on, whichever way that is. I want us to be friends again. At least.

"Have you been okay?" Jack is fiddling with one of the letters that I'd left on the table. He seems nervous. "I've missed our chats, your take on things… Jesus, Ianto, I've missed you. I missed you before I came back and I'm missing you still and I'm sick of it. I just want to get to know you. The stuff that's not in your files… I want to find out what books you read, what music you listen to, what you used to watch on telly when you were little…. What you like to eat – do you want to go out for a meal with me? Now?" Jack looked at me with big questioning eyes, not going to let go. I turned my back to him, needing a minute or so to think about this. He's asking me out! He still wants me. To get to know me… I need to pinch myself, dig my nails into the palm of my hand, and it hurts. I really am here…

Slowly I turn around, Jack is still staring at me. My whole body is saying Yes! Do it! My heart is saying the same.

"As long as you're paying…" I answer, and reach my hand out to him.

Jack takes it, gets up from the table and gets right up close.

"Yes sir." He whispers and the next thing I feel are his lips on mine.

- end -

author's note: 'course, events have overtaken my little love-story, but i think this is how it should've gone... Russell T. Davies has missed his chance here! Hahaha...

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