likesthecoat: (eyecandy)
Ianto's staff room is slowly taking on the appearance of an actual home. He's brought over some favorite books and clothes and pictures, and his diary is on the desk.

He turns on the lights for Nikola and shuts the door. "I come here to sleep a lot. Best perk of the job, really."
likesthecoat: (here's ianto!)
The Hub is a bit dark, with the blue lights from the computers playing off the walls, and a soft glow from the greenhouse above the central area. Ianto flicks on a few more lights so they don't trip over the steps and their own feet, and calls, "It's just me, I brought a friend, we're going to look for things to fight demons!" in a tone that suggests he doesn't expect anyone to answer.

The others must have left for the day already, and Jack is probably on a roof somewhere.

"Let me get a notebook and we can get started," he tells Sam.
likesthecoat: (serious teaboy)
Ianto is filing.

It's repetitive and soothing and doesn't require much thought, so his mind is wandering a bit.

At the moment it's wandering to Milliways and Mike's job offer, and how much fun it would be to have a regular schedule where he can experiment a bit more than he does at Torchwood, and where he can have a permanent room there for him to sneak Jack to when they need some time away . . .

And he still owes Duck a fairy tale.

And Valentine's Day is coming up.

And the file folders sliding against each other sound like holding a seashell to your ear.
likesthecoat: (ianto likes)
They walk through the door and . . .

Hello, Cardiff, you're unusually chilly tonight.
likesthecoat: (cymru)
As Ianto predicted, no one notices when the tall man steps out of a coffee shop with a tiny pregnant woman on his arm.

Teyla may notice the cold, though.

"My car's not far," Ianto says.
likesthecoat: (made in wales)
Ianto steps out of the coffee shop and lets go of Cal's hand.

"So," he says as he turns up his collar, "what would you like to do first?"
likesthecoat: (diary)
I write great letters but give lousy speeches.
likesthecoat: (rumpled)
[Post this. Warning for M/M of a flirtatious and often naked nature.]

Ianto dozes, stretched out in Jack's narrow camp bed. He's got a hand on whatever part of Jack is nearest to him, which is as close as he's come to saying "I don't want to leave yet."
likesthecoat: (diary)

Jack Jack Jack Jack Jack.


Just, Jack.
likesthecoat: (diary)
I used to think love meant forever, but I know better now. I can't offer anyone forever. Even if I offer someone the rest of my life, who knows how long that will be. Or won't be.

I hate feeling torn in two. I hate John thinking I'm only biding my time.

I hate knowing he's right.
likesthecoat: (diary)
I've started thinking about our future. I catch myself thinking about things like what we'll do for Christmas and if he's the type to celebrate anniversaries. (Lisa liked anniversaries. I liked them for her sake.)

I probably shouldn't think any further ahead than tomorrow, given everything, but it's nice sometimes to believe we'll have a few more days than that.
likesthecoat: (necklace)
If anyone notices that one man went through the door into the coffee shop and two come out a moment later, they say nothing about it.

Ianto will check the CCTV later, anyway. Just to be sure.

"Tailor first?" he says to Constantine. He's still holding his hand.

[ooc: Warning for adult content.]
likesthecoat: (well-dressed man)
Sex with Constantine is never bad--it's often good, sometimes great, sometimes overwhelming.

John has outdone himself tonight, bringing Ianto to the edge over and over before finally letting him over, and it's some time before Ianto can do more than brush his fingers over John's back, before he can even think.

When he does, it's I can't lose this.
likesthecoat: (hips)
Ianto's room is just like any number of midlevel hotel rooms in any number of hotels around the world: double bed, desk, chair, mirror, bureau.

He guides John carefully to the bed. "Let's get you lying down--there we go--"
likesthecoat: (diary)
I think it's too much to say we're "together." But we are . . . something.

One of these days I should tell him when I go into the bar, he's the person I hope to see.
likesthecoat: (chav)
[Post Mikey gives Ianto some special brownies.]

When Ianto comes back from Milliways, he's in the Hub.

This is bad.

Normally this would be good because he'd just go back to work. Today . . . well, he hasn't had to hide dilated pupils and rapid pulse since he was sixteen.

God, he's hungry.
likesthecoat: (diary)
We both knew I'd never stay away, I think. Where would I go, what would I do? Even if I never remembered, I'd still feel the loss.

And he's used to me now. I think we'd miss each other just as much.

I don't regret Sam or John or any of it. We all have to find our own ways of grieving.
likesthecoat: (horizons sing)
There is no one door that brings Ianto to Milliways. At the Hub, it's sometimes the door between reception and the hallway that leads down to the Hub proper, but more often the door that leads to the archives.

Away from the Hub, Ianto has usually found it through a coffee shop. A few different coffee shops, in fact, and that's what he and Justin are standing in front of when he closes the door to Milliways behind them.

"This is Cardiff," Ianto says, and there's a note of pride in his city. "What would you like to see first?"
likesthecoat: (alone)
Jack said to rest and consider his options, and Ianto has been doing so. He's been writing in his diary and drinking a lot of coffee, both in shops near his flat and in Milliways--though sleep has been harder to come by, all good intentions aside.

Neither of his options appeal to him.

He's lost count of all the times he's started to dial Jack's number and tell him to bring the retcon--and of all the times he's started to call him and ask if he can come back to work yet.

He wrote in his diary, If I have no reason for being here, why stay? and stared out at the bay for a long time afterwards.

The phone is in his hand. It's ringing. He has no idea what he'll say when Jack answers.

[ooc: Post-Cyberwoman, plot-locked to Jack.]


likesthecoat: (Default)

July 2012

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