1/2
Right now? Damn Ianto for knowing what Jack actually needed and not what he wanted. The understanding-ness of his lover wasn't helping, though it was nice to know that there was very little Jack could do that would result in Ianto turning his back on Jack. Such knowledge was good and helpful -- but at the same time, Jack needed that anger. He liked his guilt and he liked wallowing in it and damn it he was going to stay in this guilt-ridden form for as long as he damn well pleased.
Jack was in a strange place, half content that Ianto had such unshakable faith in him and half annoyed that he had this faith. Funny how Jack could have such faith in Ianto (again, Jack caught the hazy memories of something... Ianto killing people?) but he didn't believe that his lover could return the favour. Yes, Jack needed Ianto and he wasn't going to push his lover away -- he simply needed to get this thing out of his system and fast.
"Stop with the logic already, will you?" Jack snapped, a hint of petulance entering his voice. Jack didn't want to admit that Ianto was right in this instance. "I had buried him. After I travelled with the Doctor, I had buried the man I once was -- and now he's back and I can't push him aside as easily." God that was hard to admit. Hell, anything having to do with emotions weren't Jack's strong suits where admissions were concerned. "No, I wouldn't," Jack replied, looking up at Ianto. "No. For once I'm happy where I am. Hell, I don't even find myself looking that much any more." Which was the truth. Jack knew he could look and could do what he wanted -- but at the same time, he had no real desire to go anywhere. He was, surprisingly, content in Ianto's bed.
Jack swallowed, pushing that aside. He'd lost too many lovers and far too young as a result of that thing known as Torchwood. "I swear," Jack muttered under his breath, "I'm setting you up for the quintessential desk job if and when we get back to Cardiff." Because Jack did know Ianto was living on borrowed time and he wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not many lovers had wormed their way under Jack's skin like Ianto had -- not to mention, how few Jack ever wanted in that situation. "You? A stubborn bastard?" Jack asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I had no idea. Here I figured your pushing and prodding me for a position in Torchwood was nothing more than a passing fancy. You certainly didn't give me any indication that you were stubborn."
Sarcasm. Oh how Jack loved it -- though he preferred it said with Ianto's accent but that was completely beside the point.
The mental image of Owen as a ferret made Jack snort aloud; not to mention enjoy a brief fantasy, tossing him into one of those clear exercise balls and set him loose in the Hub. A new (and completely safe) plaything for Myfanwy. Oh that was too much. Jack lifted his hand, placing it on Ianto's cheek. "The difference is, you would never have openly mocked me as I mocked you. The things I said to you never would have passed your lips. That's the difference, Ianto. "
Jack wrinkled his nose, shaking his head ever so slightly. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that Owen was right." Ianto wasn't the only one who could deflect with humour. Frankly, Ianto should be glad that Jack had gone this long without distracting with either sex or humour -- even with Ianto settled on his lap as he was.
Drawing in a deep breath, Ianto's breath felt warm on his ear and Jack barely suppressed a shiver. He wished his hands were free to run his hands through Ianto's hair. Jack let his head fall forward, forehead resting on his lover's shoulder. If there wasn't anger, the next best thing was receiving that forgiveness. "Not as easy as that, but it's better," Jack said softly. He turned his head, brushing his lips against Ianto's jaw and breathed in a deep breath of Ianto's scent.