The hangup, it seemed, was mainly Ianto. And he had thought about it while at work, while on his own. It wasn't that he had wanted Jack to chase him (that was just ridiculous), it was that he was so overwhelmed and Jack and Torchwood were a package deal. Or at least, had been. But why that was affecting now, he wasn't sure. Just that it was and just that he needed this slowness for all that his body and heart demanded he leap.
Oh well. Ianto wouldn't be Ianto if he wasn't ridiculously complicated.
"I see that smirk," Ianto said, dipping his napkin in the water and dabbing at his tie again. "I meant music or a different ambiance. Not what you're thinking." Belatedly, Ianto looked at the water then at Jack and really hoped that Jack hadn't been intending on drinking the water. "Er. Sorry." Feeling a bit of an idiot, now, he set down the napkin and stood while Jack paid the bill. They had coats to climb into, after all.
"Home," he agreed, settling Jack's coat over his shoulders with deft little movements, then going for his own coat. "We can raid my collection of films, unless there's something in particular you'd like to see. And I've got brandy for coffee, unless you really want wine. Though, to be honest, it gives me a bastard of a headache the next day. Generally, when I'm in the mood to drink, I go to Owen's bar." Which, as far as he knew, didn't have much of a name past Owen's bar. Almost shyly, he offered out a hand for Jack to clasp, if he wanted it, as they headed back into the cold.