Author: kenazfiction (Kenaz)
Word Count: 4697
Author's Summary: There are many things Jack has forgotten.
Recced because: Jack/Ianto is a little under-represented as a ship here! And this is one of those stories that makes me want to pack up and go home. Kenaz writes amazing well, and even better her grasp on the characters is perfect, in that age-old tradition of fandom where we delve deeper into the stories than the show ever does. Because 'Exit Wounds' leaves Jack in an unimaginably horrible place, and Lacunae picks it up and deals with it head-on whilst never descending to melodrama. And though this is Jack's story, Ianto's thoughts and feelings are enormously vivid here too, and the end result is a story that makes me ache so beautifully for both of them.
"Come up... just for a bit?"
He didn't look at Jack when he asked, choosing instead to pointedly inspect the cuticle of his thumb.
The normalcy of open space and a comfortable bed, of windows that looked out over ordinary scenes of suburban street and garden, was jarring compared with his monastic cave in the Hub's core, his dark den in perpetual proximity to the electric chatter of computers and the chthonic songs of water deep beneath the Plass. But he didn't want to have to tell Ianto he didn't remember where his loo was, let alone what his bedroom looked like, or anything they had ever done in it.
His hand tightened slightly on the gear shift when it appeared that Ianto was going to press the issue, but he seemed to think better of it, closing his mouth and responding merely with a curt nod: Jack's good soldier.
As he opened the door and turned away, Jack caught a glimpse of his face reflected in the windscreen and the hurt there, the bewildered loneliness of a man who thought he was being punished and couldn't understand the reason for it, and it made his breath catch in his chest.
"Ianto." Some misguided reflex tightened his throat around the name.
Ianto turned and leaned over the seat to press into him, his hand cool against Jack's cheek before they kissed. Jack could almost feel the word 'please' in every sweep of Ianto's tongue, and he briefly reconsidered. The motor trundled evenly beneath the bonnet, but all else around them was quiet, save for the groaning of the leather seats as they shifted, the whispers of breath against breath, the soft, wet noises of moving lips. He wondered, as he pulled away, if it were possible to taste sadness, because he sure as hell thought that's what Ianto tasted like tonight, sadness and exhaustion that reached the bone. It tasted like... like earth, he decided. He wondered if Ianto could taste the same on him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing a soft circle against the back of Ianto's neck. "I just..."