Amazing

Title: Amazing
Author:
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Word Count: 1080
Rating: R
Summary: Sex is easy. Everything else is not.
Author’s Notes: Written for ’s lyric challenge.

It’s amazing, with the blink of an eye, you finally see the light.
And it’s amazing, when the moment arrives that you know you’ll be alright
“Amazing,” Aerosmith

Sex was easy.

Sex was just two (or more) bodies together in a bed. (Or, since Jack was involved, against a wall, in a restroom stall, or bent over a desk.) A person could do sex and keep it seperate from the rest of his life–separate, even, from the moment ten minutes later when Jack walked past, squeezes his shoulder and said, “That was a long coffee break, are you sure you don’t need another one?”

Sex was easy. The rest of it was hard.

* * *

Jack let Ianto get away with leaving as soon as they were done for a few months. And then one afternoon when the others were out–two interviews and a research project, which, technically, Ianto was supposed to be helping with–Jack grabbed Ianto’s wrist and pulled him back against his body. “A fellow might start thinking you have somewhere else to be,” he murmured in Ianto’s ear, and Ianto smiled despite himself.

“No, sir, nowhere else to be.” He tilted back his head so his temple touched Jack’s chin. They lay there quietly for a few minutes as Jack tapped his fingers on Ianto’s hipbone. Idly, Ianto inventoried the bottles of Scotch guard and disinfectant in his cupboard and how many minutes he’d need to let the couch dry. “Though,” he added, “do you really want to be discovered like this?”

“Proximity alerts,” Jack murmured in his ear and Ianto shivered and let Jack hold him for a few minutes more.

* * *

Asking Jack to come to his flat was a mistake. Ianto knew it the moment the door was closed and Jack grinned at him: “So, what are we doing tonight, Ianto?”

Sex passed a few hours quite nicely, but afterwards Ianto stared at the ceiling and wondered how to get Jack to leave without actually throwing him out. “Well,” he said finally as he watched Jack flip through his shirts in the wardrobe, “I don’t expect you’ll want to sleep.”

“I could be convinced to sleep,” Jack said.

“Oh,” Ianto said.

“Why don’t you wear this one tomorrow?” Jack held up a hanger.

“Because that’s a t-shirt. You want me to wear a t-shirt under my suit?”

“No,” Jack said and hung up the t-shirt, and climbed back into bed with Ianto. “You could wear the t-shirt with jeans. I know you have jeans. I can see them from here.”

“You want me to wear jeans and a t-shirt to work.”

“I,” Jack draped his arms over Ianto and drew him close, “want to see your ass in jeans.”

“Oh,” Ianto said, and decided Jack could stay.

* * *

I should bring a few changes of clothes to work, Ianto thought.

And when he realized he had thought it, he scowled and resumed scrubbing the percolator even harder.

* * *

Ianto called in sick for the third time in his working life, his voice so hoarse from coughing he could barely squeak out, “I won’t be in today, and probably not tomorrow.” He fell back into bed, desiring nothing more than sleep, and groaned with frustration when his mobile rang. “No,” he said when he turned it on.

“Yes,” Jack said. “What do you need?”

“Twelve hours of sleep.”

“Aside from that.”

“I don’t know.” He coughed for quite some time, pushing himself upright so he could breathe. “Tea. Tea and honey for my throat.”

“Okay. You have them. What else? Do you have any cold medicine in the flat?”

“No,” Ianto said, sulky. He’d meant to get out but he wanted to sleep first . . .

“I’ll bring you some. What else? Food? Juice? Soup?”

“Soup sounds good,” Ianto said. “There’s a deli that makes really good barley soup near my flat.”

“Barley soup it is. Go back to sleep. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” Jack said. “But I am anyway.” He hung up.

Ianto hung up and lay back on the bed. “He’s bringing me soup. How did we get to the point where he would bring me soup?” he asked the ceiling, which had no opinion on the matter.

* * *

“Tell me a story,” Ianto said. His cheek rested on Jack’s chest, and he was drawing patterns on Jack’s belly with a fingertip.

“You’ve heard all my stories.”

“Make up one.”

Jack chuckled, his stomach fluttering a little under Ianto’s head. “Why, Mr. Jones, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were looking for reasons to stick around.”

Ianto blinked, then slowly sat up and reached for his trousers. “I’ll just be on my way, then.”

“Hey!” Jack pulled him back and kissed his hair. “None of that. Have I ever said I don’t want you stay?”

“No,” Ianto said, settling back in his arms. “You’ve never said.”

“So, stay. I’ll tell you a story until you fall asleep.”

* * *

“You know what would get rid of this little issue,” Jack said when Ianto let him into the flat.

“What? I give you a key?”

Jack paused as he took off his coat and smiled at him.

“Oh,” Ianto said “So you could come and go as you pleased. Almost like you lived here.”

“That’s the idea,” Jack said, looking nervous and hopeful. “I don’t take up much room. I don’t eat much. And I’ll always let you handle the TV remote.”

It had been building, Ianto realized, it had been slowly building layer upon layer like a coral reef. You can’t sleep with someone for months, see them every day, talk to them, hear all their stories, understand their jokes–and not have it reach this point. We’re not just friends who fuck anymore, he thought, and wondered if that was all they’d ever been.

Ianto smiled. “All three of those are a lie. And if I give you a key that means you’ll also need a drawer or two and room in the wardrobe, because it’d be ridiculous for you to travel back and forth for your clothes. And I’ll have to request an extra parking space for you. You’re going to make my life very, very complicated, Jack.”

“Like I haven’t already.”

Ianto took Jack’s face in both hands and kissed him. “I love your complications,” he said and Jack beamed at him.

* * *

Sex is easy. Sex is only bodies in a bed. But love–that’s heart and soul and mind, so complicated, so messy, so worth it, so amazing.

end