Fandom: Torchwood

Characters: Ianto, Jack

Author: m_findlow

Rating: M

Length: 1,330 words

Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 270 - Shower

Summary: Ianto is having a hard time keeping his emotions under wraps.


'Fu...dge...!' Ianto cried out, holding back the proper expletive at the very last moment. Not that it should matter. He was in his own flat. He should be able to swear however he liked, especially given the circumstances. The cold shower had the intended effect, though. It doused any thoughts from his mind apart from those of sheer shock at the cold, like he'd been jolted by a thousand volts of electricity. He looked down and gratefully saw that the hard on he'd been sporting had given up the ghost, trying to make itself scarce from the icy cold waters, like a shrinking violet.

He was accustomed to his usual morning routine, and waking up hard wasn't anything untoward. It was simply his body's way of saying "good morning, just letting you know I'm all in working order". The problem lately had been that once it had reported in for duty, it stayed there like any good solider, standing at attention. "I'm all in working order" was now followed by "and where is that hunky American with the perfect smile and abs of steel?" No matter how much he tried to tell himself that there was not gong to be any early morning workout, his body had other ideas. All because of that one night they'd spent together.

Once he was satisfied that he'd punished himself sufficiently and that his body had gotten the message loud and clear, he turned up the heat as high as it could go, filling the shower stall with steam so thick he couldn't see his hand three inches from his face let alone the shower caddy with the soap and shampoo. The scalding water on its own should be enough to boil away yesterday's grime.

A cold shower in the middle of winter in Cardiff. Could there be any idea more stupid that that? Who in their right mind would subject themselves to that? Even if the pipes were frozen over, it would be better just to go without and to slap on a bit of extra cologne to hide any smells.

Smells. That reminded him. He really needed to change the sheets. He just hadn't been able to bring up himself to do it. They still smelled like Jack, that intoxicating musky scent that filled his head whenever he came within three feet of the man, but right there on his pillows where he could bury his face into it and savor it in the privacy of his own home. Was it any wonder that he woke up with a raging hard on after having breathed that in all night long? The sheets had to go. Maybe he didn't have to wash them. Maybe he could just tucked them away in the wardrobe somewhere and only bring them out every now and then. But no, that was just creepy and stalker'ish. That was how serial killers started out, obsessing over their victims. He didn't want to be obsessing over Jack.

'God,' he muttered, resting his head against the cold tiles as the water ran over his head and face, dripping off his nose and chin. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have just left Pandora's box tightly shut, but he'd just felt so overwhelmed that night. He'd been halfway drunk too, which probably hadn't helped matters. If he hadn't been tipsy and jumped up on adrenaline, there was no way he would have been brave enough to kiss Jack. Especially when he was still worried about what kind of punishment Jack might give him for having leveled his gun at him, forcing him through an alien portal to a slave colony world where he'd been tortured and nearly killed. Coming back to save Jack at the last minute probably wasn't going to cut it in balancing the good karma, bad karma equation. Then again, he had taken up Ianto's offer to spend the night at his, discovering just how complicated Ianto actually was. If he hadn't enjoyed it, he was one hell of an actor.

It was strange. Ever since, Jack had been his usual aloof self, never once intimating that anything had happened between them, and carrying on just as they always had. Ianto was the one left feeling out of sorts, usually so good at keeping himself neutral, but it was Jack who was holding his cards close to his chest. He'd apparently meant what he said. Just this once, and then they'd go back to whatever counted as normal in their lives. As if normal even came into it.

A cold shower in the morning was all good and well to dispel the demons that took over his body, but it wasn't much good for the rest of the day. He couldn't very well avoid Jack - not that he wanted to - but having to keep him at arm's length was proving more challenging than anything he'd ever confronted. They'd done well to cover up the full story of events surrounding the Ferret Pub, although Jack had given Ianto credit for unraveling the mystery, which had gone a long way to raise him in the esteem of everyone else. The official line went that they had accidentally bumped into one another that night, both on the same trail, but that they'd killed the alien slave trader and sent the bar's owner packing. Case closed. It didn't need to be any more complicated than that. The best lies were always the simplest ones.

Ianto's old fashioned methods for investigating had found themselves a new following. The rest of the team were now taking an interest in what he thought abut cases they were working on, and could he assist them with some background research? It wasn't exciting work necessarily, but it gave him something to take his mind off Jack. It worked a treat today when he couldn't manage to keep Jack far from his thoughts at all. His early morning endeavours had well and truly worn off and he'd only been here an hour. Why did Jack have to be so irresistibly charming?

'Ianto!' came the call the minute he entered the main hub. Just hearing Jack call his name like that send a rush through his body. So much for hoping he could sneak in, make a few coffees and then hide himself away in the archives for the rest of the day.

'Yes, sir?' He amazed himself with how calm and composed he sounded.

'Weevil alert over in Adamstown. Owen and Gwen are already headed out to another case.' Jack gave him a strange little smile. 'Thought you might like to team up with me on this one.'

'Me?'

Jack folded his arms, keeping that same expression in place. 'You said you wanted to be more involved.'

'I did, didn't I?' Being more involved however had taken on a whole new meaning in his head. Being involved on cases was not the same as being involved with Jack, yet when it came to Torchwood he found himself unable to separate the two any longer.

'I warn you though,' Jack said, 'I've dealt with this weevil before. He'll give good chase and the sewers are not the cleanest place in Cardiff. In fact,' he said, giving Ianto's suit the up and down appraisal, 'you might think about a change of clothes. I don't want to be responsible for ruining that lovely suit.' There was a tiny glint in Jack's eye as he said it, hinting at their old banter and perhaps something more.

'Okay.'

'Okay? You're sure? I mean, I don't want to upset your delicate sensibilities.'

Ianto wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. There'd no been nothing delicate about what they'd done a few weeks ago. 'I can always come back and shower afterwards.' A few hours chasing after Jack in a life or death scenario, just the two of them? Whatever the outcome, he was definitely going to be in need of yet another cold shower.