#especially if she insists she can go do smth else elsewhere away from her friends she might put on an act/drop her sunshiney nature

[floorpancakes]

🤔

[m-feys]

ok heres one of my torchwood wips T-T bc im feeling smth, its about ianto and rhiannon in my ianto lives au

-

Ianto sat down across from her, he’d already taken off his coat and she’d already set a cuppa out for him. This was starting to become routine, and Ianto was beginning to feel intimidated by that fact. It’s more than they’ve ever had between them, more truth and more connection, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

After the 456 he’d vowed to himself to visit her more often, especially being sure to spend time with the kids. Mica was still consumed by the Xbox most afternoons when he entered, but when they went out to the movies, she would chatter on the way back about all her favorite parts, particularly the explosions, and David would threaten to steal her candy but would always give some of his to her instead and Ianto cherished it. He found that those times also made him painfully nostalgic for his own childhood, but it was a minor note in a bigger concert.

On his visits to see Rhiannon, she mostly did the talking. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them. He gave comment where it was needed to keep her talking and listened as she gossiped about her friends and which of the neighbour’s kids kept climbing through the fence across the street.

And Rhiannon wasn’t subtle, she never, ever, had been. So when she asks about Torchwood it’s always, “Heard everybody was seeing these great, big halos the other night, that one of yours?” And when she tries to nudge him into mentioning Jack, it’s, “that boss of yours, he treatin’ you alright?” Ianto gets the feeling if he said that Jack had /not/ been treating him right she might have offered to beat his face for him. That idea makes him feel ridiculously fond.

“He’s treating me perfectly well, thank you,” he answers each time, she knows better than to think she’s getting more than that. Especially with Johnny sitting in the recliner behind them, mocking the enemies in Mica’s video game.

Johnny’s out today though, and even though he already knows, Ianto refuses to mention anything remotely informative about his life with the man in earshot. He doesn’t hate him, respects him a great deal more after the incident with 456, in fact, but the man is far too loud, about /everything/, for Ianto’s tastes.

Mica, who has her friend with two mums, is still situated on the couch when Rhiannon speaks.

“And how’s that man of yours?”

Ianto falters, because this is a break in the pattern.

“He’s fine…” he answers awkwardly, “he’s not… /mine/,” he points out reluctantly, heartbeat speeding up and cataloging the most logical excuses to leave at any given second.

“Really?” she asks, mouth curling up slightly, “you seein’ other people, then?”

Ianto shrugs, floundering like he always seems to when he’s trying to explain his current life to Rhiannon, to put it in terms she can cope with, ideas that aren’t too outrageous. “He said…” he starts slowly, letting out a breath through his nose, “he said he would stay,” he admits softly. It’s not much of his life, but it’s not nothing, not by a long shot. At least this is /true/.

Her eyebrows go up, lips parting in surprise, still smiling, almost edging into a grin now. “That’s big?”

Ianto doesn’t break his mask of neutrality, but he relaxes it just a bit, “yes,” he breathes.

“So it’s a bit like he /is/ your man, then?” she points out, wrinkling her nose with a smile, teasing.

He sighs, taking care to ensure he sounds supremely put-upon. “If you insist on calling him that, then /yes/.” Inwardly, he’s grinning like a git, hearing people refer to them in romantic terms always sends butterflies through Ianto’s stomach, and hearing it from his sister is making that feeling even more precious. He cares what she thinks of him, even if for a long time he wished he hadn’t.

“Well, seein’ as you haven’t even told me his name, I gotta call him something.”

Ianto hesitated, then he supposed that there couldn’t be any harm in just one name, it was a fairly common one, after all, that was by design on Jack’s part.

“Jack,” he allows.

“Jack,” she repeats, sounding the name out curiously, grinning all the while.

---

The question turns into, “well, how’s Jack?” from then on, and Ianto suddenly regrets everything. He’s crossed lines he can’t uncross and his /sister/ is referring to Jack by name, with the knowledge that he’s his boss, and also maybe his /man/, and all other sorts of euphemisms she could come up with to refer to them. /What/ had he been /thinking/?

“He’s fine,” is all he says. The fifth time after hearing that for an answer, Rhiannon demands more.

“You can’t just say that every time! C’mon, tell me something about him. Just something tiny,” she goads, “something you like about him.”

Ianto contemplates this question, all the multitudes of things he likes about Jack. The way he smells, that coat, his smile, his laugh, his hands, the way they can talk without talking, and the way they could also just talk to each other for hours on end. The way he sleeps, and how he mumbles sometimes as he dreams. How he talks low when they’re alone, just for Ianto. The way his hands always reach to cradle Ianto’s face when they kiss before touching elsewhere. How sometimes Jack is so harsh like the sea in a storm and sometimes he’s as gentle as summer waves lapping at the beach.

Ianto blinks away from these thoughts, focusing back in on the moment. /Everything/, he wants to say. Which is completely ridiculous, and terribly cliche, and not even /remotely/ true, considering how many things about Jack piss him off so acutely.

“He’s funny,” he settles on, because Jack is. He’s a people pleaser, a charmer. “You’d like him,” he adds mildly. Because Ianto is sure Jack could get on Rhiannon’s good side without even blinking.

“You should let me meet him, then,” she responds to that, looking a bit too proud of herself for reaching this point.

“Absolutely not,” he denies instantly, frowning at her. She glares in return.

“Why not?”

Ianto flattens his mouth in displeasure, “we’re not really in the ‘meeting-the-family’ stage of the relationship,” he tells her, he does not imagine they’ll ever be. Considering he learned about Jack’s daughter because of a hostage situation and every other family member he has is either dead, 3000 years in the future, or cryogenically frozen after irrationally blaming Jack for everything that happened to him.

“Have you told him you’ve been coming to see me?” she questions. He stares at her for a moment, bewildered about what she thinks she’s going to gain from this.

“Yes,” he answers, still uncomprehending, “why?”

“Well, will he think you’re hiding him away from me?” she asks him boldly.

Ianto can’t help but roll his eyes, “Rhiannon, we’re not like that, I’ve said.”

She huffs a sigh in frustration, “Ianto, you don’t tell me anything about all your alien business or the guy you're dating-- who’s also your boss! And it doesn’t seem like there's much to ask about otherwise! It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall!”

“Brick wall might be a bit reliable,” he snarks, the words are brittle in his mouth.

She deflates, “just tell me something,” she pleaded, “I wanna be a part of your life, I don’t just wanna sit here all day telling you ‘bout how Bridget’s cookies were burnt and how we had to replace the dryer after Mica’s ‘science experiment.’ I want to hear from you too!” She exclaimed.

He softened at the words, not able to help his smile at the mention of Mica’s latest explosion. “You are a part of my life,” he assured her, “and I like hearing about that stuff,” he adds with a lift of his shoulder.

She softens too then, giving him a wry smile, “something small?” she requests.

He thinks this over, then, “we caught an acid spitting alien and it melted through all our cells until we realized we should just freeze it.”

The look on her face is priceless, her mouth dropping open in disbelief before barking out a startled laugh. “how big was it?” she asked, raising her brows.

“Not very,” he said, “but it was a nasty little bugger.”

She looked at him, grinning pleased, “anything else you wanna tell me?”

He thought it over, then sighed heavily, “I’ll ask Jack,” he allowed.

Her brows shot up.

“I’m not promising anything,” he tacked on instantly, “he’s probably going to say no, and when I come back and tell you he said no, you leave it at that, alright?” He told her firmly, voice kept low, though still, Mica was the only one in the room. A strange little fly on the wall who he could never quite sense if she was listening or not.

“Alright, alright, I promise,” she agreed, but still, she looked so happy. It would be worth it, he supposed.

“My sister keeps asking after you,” Ianto mentions off-handedly when they’re working idly, Martha is out of earshot and Gwen and Tosh were off setting up scanners around the area of a predicted rift spike. Jack was leaning against his desk flipping through a stack of files when he glanced up.

“Oh?” he started, brows raised and setting aside the files, easily interested when he was the subject of conversation, “what do you tell her about me?” he questioned, his cheek dimpling as he started to smile, “all good things, I hope.”

“I told her you’re funny,” Ianto said, glancing over at him too, still perched on his desk but looking only at Ianto now.

Jack gives him a haughty look, “so, /that’s/ what I’m known for?” he questions, mock-offended but he still smirks at Ianto while he waits for an answer.

“You could be a stand-up comedian,” he suggests dryly.

“We’d have to be a two person show, you’d be my straight-man,” he says grinning, acknowledging their chemistry.

“I’m afraid I may not fit the bill,” Ianto counters flatly and Jack cackles, pushing off the desk now, to approach him.

“Damn,” he curses mildly once he reaches Ianto, shaking his head in faux-disappointment at their lack of compatibility as a comic duo. “Say anything else about me?” he prompts helpfully as he stands just a little too close to Ianto’s side.

Ianto hesitates, licking his lips, “she asked about meeting you,” he admits.

“Really?” Jack said. Ianto couldn’t quite look at him, so he diverged his eyes to the words on the screen, not reading any of them as he scrolled a little further.

“Yes…” he says slowly, trying to look distracted and not at all like he’s sweating, “she’s very insistent, but I already told her it wasn’t--”

“When?” Jack asks, then.

“-- in the cards, I mean, we…” he froze, turning his head now to gape at Jack, “/what/?” he asked sharply.

“When would she wanna meet me?” Jack asked cooly, raising one eyebrow at Ianto’s current expression. He snapped his jaw shut, still staring at Jack, brows pulled low as he studied his face.

“... You’d meet her?” Ianto asked slowly, still looking him over.

“If you let me,” Jack supplied easily, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Ianto evenly.

He narrowed his eyes at him wondering if somehow this was some strange trick. “You’re /willing/ to meet my sister? As my, um--” He struggled to find the right word.

“Boyfriend?” Jack suggested, teasing sharply.

“I don’t /know/ what to call us,” Ianto countered, staring him down, even as heat rose in his cheeks.

“What do you /want/ us to be called?” Jack challenged him, raising a brow.

‘/Boyfriends/,’ Ianto’s mind instantly supplied but he kept his mouth shut as he watched Jack, trying to puzzle him out.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to meet them…?” he asked him and Jack raised both his eyebrows now.

“Ianto, /you/ were the one who didn’t want me near them and I was respecting that,” Jack pointed out, looking serious now.

“I didn’t--” Ianto started to deny, but then realized Jack was right, for a very long time, Ianto never mentioned a word about them and never wanted anything remotely to do with Torchwood anywhere near the last of his family, /Jack especially/. He pressed his lips together and Jack raised his brows pointedly, mouth pinched.

Ianto glared at him then, “well, what about you?” he asked sharply, “you hate us even being considered a couple and now you’re suddenly fine with meeting my family-- who-- I might remind you, is under that assumption about us. Sorry about that,” Ianto tacks on sarcastically, not intending to sound as bitter about it as he does.

“I never said I hated people thinking we were a couple!” Jack looked taken aback by the assertion.

“Yes you did,” Ianto countered, voice rising, suddenly angry that Jack seemed to think he was the one who was coming out of nowhere with this, “you /told me/ you hated that word!”

“Yes, I /hate/ that /word/,” Jack threw his hands up, experated, “I think it’s stupid and small-minded to refer to a pair of people like they’re one thing! But, Ianto-- by all earth definitions-- /yes/ we do fit under that umbrella. I don’t /care/ if people think of us as a ‘couple!’”

Ianto stared at him, reeling at the confession and trying to ground himself, “what, um, what do /you/ think of us as, then?” he asked cautiously.

Jack stared at him, swallowing, “Partners?” he suggested softly.

“/Partners/?” Ianto repeated in disbelief.

Jack nodded stiffly, squinting at him. “But you don’t seem thrilled with that.”

Ianto was quick to shake his head, “no. Partners, that’s fine, I’m good with partners,” he rushed the words out, not wanting to give Jack time to realize his mistake and take any of this back.

But Jack’s brows creased in concern, “if you have a word you prefer…?” Jack prompted him, raising his eyebrows now in anticipation, surely already knowing what Ianto wanted to say and waiting for him to admit it.

Ianto studied him for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the word /partners/; it was succinct, simple, made sense in so many situations, and didn’t sound quite as silly as ‘boyfriends’. He could easily see why Jack had chosen it, it was the logical option. But there was something too clinical about it for Ianto’s tastes, something that skipped past the way Ianto would wake up too warm with Jack wrapped around him. That term missed out on the simple truths for Ianto, like how he and Jack had an unfinished puzzle sitting on his coffee table, waiting for them in spare moments when they sat down to talk. Or how Jack knew exactly how to fluster Ianto without fail and Ianto could snark back just as easily. Or how these days he knew exactly how to find his way through Jack’s bunker without needing the light and Jack no longer needed to ask where anything was kept in the kitchen of his flat, both of them perfectly familiar with the other’s spaces. It was all the little intimate things they had become that Ianto never ever wanted to skip over, that got brushed past by that word.

“Boyfriend?” Ianto answered hopefully, heart pounding too loudly in his chest.

“Then we’re boyfriends,” Jack agreed, before dropping a hand to Ianto’s shoulder and drawing him into a hug. Ianto returned it, letting out a breath.

“I think we made that harder than it had to be,” Jack sighed next to his ear.

“Just a bit,” Ianto agreed, mouth pressed into his shoulder, still a little shocked it had been just that easy.

Stepping away, Jack was quick to smile at him again, “alright, back to work,” he chided teasingly, wagging a finger at him and turned to stride back towards his office. He paused though as he reached the door.

“And let me know when I’m going to meet Rhiannon, I want to look my best,” Jack told him, grinning widely.

As happy as Ianto was that Jack was so clearly, explicitly, completely unequivocally willing to commit to him, Jack and Rhiannon actually meeting wasn’t a real possibility he’d considered until just now.

“Oh, god,” he murmured in horror, turning away from Jack laughing at him.

Which is how he ended up standing at the door to his sister’s house, with Jack at his side, steeling himself to knock.

“Want me to ring the doorbell?” Jack offered unhelpfully beside him.

“Doesn’t work,” Ianto responded instantly.

“/Soooo/, are we just gonna stare at the door, then? Until it falls off the hinges… or?” Jack whispered, teasing him.

“I’m /going/ to knock,” Ianto told him firmly, before glancing over at Jack. Despite what he’d said about looking his best, he was wearing what he always wore. A blue button-up, slacks and his signature coat. With a black vest added to the ensemble, he /occasionally/ branched out in his fashion choices.

“Be on your best behavior,” Ianto instructed him sternly, catching his eye and Jack just grinned at him.

“Aren’t I always?”

Ianto let out a drawn-out sigh.

“I can go sit in the car if you want,” Jack suggested then, voice wry. “You can just crack the window for me so I won’t die from heatstroke.”

Ianto’s lips twitched at that, “I hate that we have the same sense of humor,” he muttered, smirking.

“Good thing you told her I was so /funny/, then,” Jack responded sarcastically.

Ianto knocked, without further preamble, cutting off any more banter Jack could spout, which was an infinite amount, because he was /Jack/.

A moment later, Rhiannon was opening the door, beaming at them.

“Come in, come in,” she spoke, stepping back and waving both of them inside, Jack smiled back at her charmingly all the while.

The only conditions Ianto had agreed to their meeting was it being between solely Rhiannon, Jack and himself. They could have gone out to meet somewhere, but it had been decided, by Rhiannon, that they would be more comfortable in her house. Ianto suspected she also wanted to give him less room to evade her.

The only time the kids and Johnny were all out of the house was on a weekday, but so long as the rift wasn’t predicted to get out of hand, he and Jack could find free-time on any day of the week, just as well as a weekend. Better even, cause none of the others tended to have plans.

“You /and/ your boss can get off in the middle of the week?” She sounded doubtful.

“This job isn’t exactly nine-to-five,” Ianto responded, “we’ll leave if we get called in.”

“You’d better not get called in,” she warned him and he couldn’t help but snort in response.

Now as he stepped out of the entryway and stared at the completely rearranged living room he couldn’t help but sort of wish Mica were there playing games as always, it was strangely disconcerting with her gone. The couch was pushed forward, bean bag chairs were nowhere in sight, but probably fit to burst from being stuffed in the hallway closet. In front of the couch was the coffee table, which had long since been pushed against the wall after David fell onto it when he and Mica were running through the house and cracked the glass with his head. His head had been fine, thankfully. And at an off angle to the couch was Johnny’s recliner, all situated so they could comfortably look at one another while they talked.

Ianto was starting to regret that he hadn’t just lied, telling Rhiannon instead that Jack said no, but they were here now, no turning back.

“Tea for you?” she asked, lifting the electric kettle and already pouring water for herself and Ianto as she always did, but now there was a third cup to join theirs.

“You got any coffee?” Jack answered and Rhiannon looked up at him in surprise when he spoke. The accent, Ianto realized, must have caught her off guard.

“Sorry, no,” she smiled apologetically with a shake of her head, recovering well enough.

“Tea’s good then,” Jack agreed with an ever-pleasant smile.

“Ianto didn’t mention you were American?” she said curiously, staring at Jack while Ianto reached for all of their teacups to move them to the coffee table.

“I’m sure there’s plenty Ianto didn’t mention about me,” Jack replied easily, “he’s quiet, this one.”

Rhiannon laughed, and Ianto was sure to give Jack a withering look as soon as he caught his eye, which was received with a demure smile.

She ushered them to the couch then and settled into the recliner herself, squishing into the worn cushions. Jack looked perfectly at ease next to him while Ianto was stiff as a board. It was sort of funny, considering he wasn’t the one in an unfamiliar house meeting his partner’s family for the first time.

“Captain Jack Harkness,” he introduced himself, and shook her hand before taking his seat, “pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Davies.”

She stared at him for a moment with eyes pulled wide, grinning wildly. “Oh please, call me, Rhiannon,” she corrected him.

“Call me Jack,” he said, grinning in kind.

“So, tell me about yourself, then,” Rhiannon invited him, smiling winningly.

“Well, I think Ianto’s mentioned that we work together,” Jack began.

“Said you’re his boss,” Rhiannon agreed, “how much older are you, exactly?” She wondered, eyes narrowing sharply.

Jack didn’t look at all perturbed by the question, just opened his mouth to answer, but Ianto spoke first, “he’s in his thirties,” he supplied.

“Thirty-six,” Jack agreed, not missing a beat. Ten-year age difference, it was accurate /physically/, at least.

“How’d you two come about then, after working together?”

Jack glanced at him, smiling easily. He was letting Ianto take the lead here, he realized, and he would follow up to however much or little Ianto wanted to tell her.

“It was…” Ianto started to speak, “I came back to Cardiff for work, when I met Jack,” he said carefully.

“Transferred facilities and came to work under me instead,” Jack looked at him again, smiling affectionately, “and I’m grateful he did.” Ianto really was losing track of exactly how much of this was a show Jack was putting on for her, but he’d still managed to slip a double entendre in there.

“Was it hard?” she asked curiously, “being the first man Ianto was with?” It was a bold question, a bit tactless, but Jack wasn’t one to shy away from these topics, and neither was Rhiannon, clearly.

Jack glanced at him. He knew it was a blatant lie on Ianto’s part, that Jack was the only man he’d been with, but Ianto knew he wouldn’t say anything. It was just easier, telling Rhiannon the things she would prefer to hear than actually trying to explain himself to her.

“Not at all,” Jack answered, looking at his sister again, smiling warmly, “I know how to take things slow.”

Ianto rolled his eyes /hard/ at that. Completely ridiculous.

“Ianto, ‘ave you got something to add?” Rhiannon wondered sharply, and of course, then of all moments she had to be watching him.

He gave her a sardonic smile, “nothing at all, Rhi. It’s just funny! Why Jack just might just be the most /polite/ man you’ll ever meet,” he said, his sarcasm was impossible to miss.

“You told me /‘best behavior,’/” Jack hissed at him.

“Well, you sound completely ridiculous,” he pointed out in return.

“I’m just going off what /you/ said! What /exactly/ would you like me to tell her, Ianto?” He invited him sharply.

He frowned, glancing from Jack staring at him intently to Rhiannon watching them with a confused smile pulling at her mouth. At least she didn’t seem as mortified as Ianto was feeling right at this moment.

He crossed his arms and faced his sister, looking her dead in the eye.

“Jack is the strangest man I’ve ever met, and he’s not polite at all, he makes lewd jokes and chews with his mouth open. If you’re going to meet him, I at least want you to /actually/ meet him,” he says, sighing with finality and knowing his face has gone completely red.

“Well, there you go,” Jack agrees with a sweeping gesture, an amused smile playing on his lips.

Ianto has realized as comfortable as it is to lie to her about this, he wants her approval, and that really means nothing if he’s not at least a little bit honest. He’s been trying to be that with Rhiannon for a while now, but he didn’t know how to explain that to Jack.

But Rhiannon was laughing then, giggling, really. “Well, the only other things you told me ‘bout him were that he’s handsome and funny, so I think maybe I’m starting to get something outta you, for once,” she looks happy now smiling at Ianto and he tries to smile back.

“So, I’m /also/ known for being handsome, then?” Jack intercuts, his voice turning sly.

Ianto turns a flat look on him, resolutely ignoring the way his face is still flushed, “I was only confirming the rumors.”

“And who exactly was starting rumors about how handsome I am?”

“/Her/ nosey friends who don’t know how to mind their own business,” Ianto shot back.

“Oi!” Rhiannon objected. Ianto turned his deadpan stare on her instead now, inviting her to argue with his statement. They both knew he was right.

“Not like I ever would have heard about this from you,” she argued back, gesturing towards him.

Ianto scowled at her, before scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know, Rhi, maybe, maybe if you’d given me time I could’ve explained it better,” he said, giving her a pained look now.

“Well, how would you explain it now, if you told me?” she asked insistently.

He froze up at that, his eyes strayed to Jack then, who was simply watching him calmly, a solid presence by his side. He looked back towards her then, swallowing thickly.

“I... fell in love with a man, Rhi,” he admitted slowly, and it wasn’t something he hadn’t said to Jack already, but telling her so plainly should be completely unimaginable, yet here he was, doing just that. “As much as you might doubt it, I do /actually/ care how you think of me.”

Her brows drew up in concern, “that would never change how I think of you,” she said, and she sounded so earnest.

“Rhiannon,” he sighed, smiling sadly now, “it /always/ changes how people think of you.”

She stared at him for a long moment, looking like she couldn’t comprehend what he was telling her. “You’re my /brother/ Ianto, nothing will change that.”

“What about Johnny?” he countered sharply, “do talk about me with him? What does he say, I wonder?”

She glared at him furiously at those words, “Johnny doesn’t hate you, Ianto! He likes you just as well as he always has,” she objected.

“It’s not just about /hating/ people, Rhiannon. It’s about all those little things. About how /strange/ it is, and how you’re just now thinking I’ve always been a little too over-emotional, that I cried just too much, or that I was always too /weak/,” he bit out the word. “I can’t /stand/ it. If you just hated me Rhiannon, it’d be easier,” he said, the truths just pouring out of him now as he stared her down, “Then I wouldn’t have to be here right now.”

Her face had gone slack with surprise and Jack wasn’t watching him anymore, only staring cooly out into the room, looking completely unfazed.

Ianto’s heart was racing like he’d just run a marathon and he waited. Waited for her to say something.

“If you don’t want to come ‘round, Ianto, all you had to do was say,” she spoke finally, her voice was soft and filled with solemn resolve. He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration.

“I /do/ want to be around you, Rhiannon,” he rushed to correct her, “but I’m just,” he floundered for the words looking for the right thing to say.

He took a shaky breath and when he glanced at Jack, this time the man was looking at him with that steady gaze, expectant.

“I’m just /scared/,” he admitted finally and the corners of Jack’s lips lifted ever so slightly for him, a small comfort just for Ianto to see. He looked back at Rhiannon, meeting her gaze.

“Well, you don’t have to be,” She suggested quietly.

He let out a breath, lowering his eyes again. In a way, she was right, but she still didn’t understand. She never would, not really.

“Well,” Jack broke the moment suddenly, “I’m just glad I was here to serve as a catalyst for this heartwarming breakthrough between brother and sister,” he spoke, smirking between them. Though Ianto got the sense Jack knew he was saving Ianto from having to come up with another answer to Rhiannon’s assurances.

Rhiannon gave the man a wide-eyed look, a confused grin pulling at her lips now, she shot Ianto a questioning look.

“Yes,” he answered, being sure to sound spectacularly put-upon as he said it, though in truth he just felt ridiculously fond, “he’s always like this.”

“And he /loves/ me for it, you heard the man,” Jack teased.

Rhiannon laughed and Ianto let himself relax, just for a moment.