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For quitehomoerotic: when I was seventeen
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As he crossed the street, Ianto shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and bent his shoulders forward even further. For once, his father wasn't around to tell him to stand straight, to look proud of being a Jones, so he didn't. Besides, he wasn't proud of being a Jones, not after Bethan Taylor had spent three weeks giving him hope over history revisions, only to move on to Gary Evans, who was better in maths.

He'd discovered everything earlier that morning, when he saw the two of them together, Bethan brushing her fingers against his wrist. Ianto remembered how she had ruffled his hair once, when they'd first started talking, and he thought he understood the way Gary looked as though he'd forgot everything but her.

As he thought about it, Ianto gave a sour look to the next person he passed.

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That morning, Jack Harkness had rolled quietly out of Ianto Jones' bed. He'd tried to tiptoe and not wake him up, but even then Jack had suspected he was awake anyway. Still, it was a pretence to pretend he didn't notice that, and one that he kept up until it was time for him to leave, and he'd leaned over and pressed a small kiss to his lips. He'd whispered that he'd see him at work, just had something to sort, and he left.

It was just a small blip. A silly small blip over up by Llandaff. But a small blip could grow into a bigger one, and it was always best to check; nip it in the bud.

But it wasn't just a blip at all. In fact Jack parked the SUV along a side street and walked down a small path beside the Cathedral, and when he got to the other side? Something was wrong. Something was very wrong indeed.

Because when he reached the other side? He was in 2001.

Ianto didn't have anywhere to be. Oh, he had plenty of places he could be--at home reading, visiting his sister, getting into trouble with his friends--but nowhere he absolutely positively needed to be.

But, after only a few more blocks, he was already sick of walking. He passed a bench, then backtracked, looked around, and sat down.

He slouched, his elbows resting on his knees, and felt, as he always did, that his legs were far too long. And as he slouched, his hair, which was also too long as well as too curly, the way it had been when he was a boy, fell in front of his eyes. It figured, really, and he left it there.

The first thing Jack did, was steal a car. Not the most moralistic of things to do, perhaps, but he wasn't walking all the way from Llandaff back to the city. No way.

He had to find out what was going on. Well, no, he suspected he knew that much, but he had to reverse it. He needed to get back, and he didn't want to go the slow way. That was frankly eight years too slow for his liking.

So yes, he stole a car, and he drove it the short way to the city and dumped it in a side street. He'd walk to the bay from there and fund some way of getting into the hub without bumping into himself or Suzie. That'd never do.

He had no help here, and that was fine, he could do without it, but help... well... helped, and he'd got used to having it. Got used to people around him.

He walked along the street, passing houses and a teenager slumped down in a bench. Jack walked a few steps past and remarked just how much---

Sharply, he turned his head back.

Just how much he looked like Ianto Jones.

And for a while, he merely stood there staring.

All teenagers are self-centered to a fault, and seventeen year-old Ianto Jones was no exception. He was so wrapped up in himself and the his various complaints he had about the world, that for several minutes he didn't notice that he was being watched.

Then, suddenly, he recognized the feeling that had been inching up his spine.

He frowned. As he glanced around, he caught sight of Jack staring, and his eyes narrowed.

Creepy.

Finally, Ianto straightened his shoulders as though preparing himself for something, some interaction that could go any number of ways.

"You know, I can see you," he said, his lips curling slightly as he spoke. His tone acerbic in a way that only people his age can manage.

Edited at 2010-06-10 02:57 am (UTC)

Jack couldn't help it: he smirked.

"Well would you look at you," he said, amused and with no intention of explaining what he meant.

He hadn't got help, no, and he could use someone. And well, if there was anyone he could trust, he knew it was him. Even if he was a few years less than the man in the crisp suit.

"I should hope so," he said, taking a step over towards him. Without invite, he moved himself over and sat down beside him, his coat swishing as he moved.

"So," he said. "You busy?"

Really, he didn't have time to waste, did he?

With some effort, Ianto kept himself from moving away. He didn't want to give the impression that he wanted Jack sitting beside him, but he also didn't want to show discomfort.

He'd always been told he was stubborn.

Ianto gave the stranger a sideways look. Who knew what he was after.

"If you're trying to pick me up," Ianto said, "don't bother."

Jack was more than a little amused, and the evidence of which was written all over his face.

"I'm not," he said plainly, "but if I were, it wouldn't be a problem." He continued, barely even a pause. "No, I'm thinking something a little less sweaty. For the time being at least. Give you a few years and who knows." Well, he knew. In fact his memories of the prior night were rather vivid.

"But sitting here on a bench, hardly interesting, is it? I'm looking for someone to give me a hand. Need a little help down by the bay. Could be dangerous."

Ianto snorted. He tried to keep it to himself, but that didn't quite work, so his reaction was probably quite obvious.

Wouldn't be a problem? Yeah, right. Someone was a little too sure of himself, it seemed.

"And you thought, what?" Ianto retorted, his tone just shy of mocking. "Oh, that bloke looks like he's got some time on his hands? Think I'll just invite him along. Down by the bay. Could be dangerous."

Edited at 2010-07-06 07:02 pm (UTC)

Jack again, was smirking. To himself, this time. Oh how little this young lad knew.

"No," he said, a small shake of his head. "I thought 'that bloke looks like he'll look good in a suit in a few years time, but for now, we can do without. Oh, and I'm pretty damn sure he's good with numbers, and pretty good in a tight situation. And no I'm not talking about sex. Teenagers, all you lot think about."

For some reason, that hit hard. The sex reference aside, very little of it made sense to him, but it struck a nerve just the same.

Ianto tensed and drew himself inward, just slightly.

"You don't know me," he said, his brow furrowed. A touch too defensive, as though he doesn't know why anyone would say he's good at anything. "You don't know anything about me."

Jack had a trump card. And, he thought, it was time to show it.

He grinned.

"Oh is that so, Ianto Jones?"

The man knew his name.

There was absolutely no reason for the man to know his name, absolutely no way the man could know his name. Unless, of course, he was some kind of pervert who had been following him around all day, and Ianto had seen enough news reports on the telly to know that happened.

Ianto scowled.

"Were you following me?"

Jack scoffed.

"Trust me, if I was following you, I'm doing it backwards. And if anyone is following anyone it's you following me." Beat. "Though not yet."

He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Look, either you help me or you don't. Doesn't bother me too much. I could do with it, but I'll manage without. So either you come with me, have a bit of danger by the bay, or you go back home. Have an evening in with your sister!"

Ianto would be lying if he said he wasn't curious. Of course he was curious. A bit of danger by the bay? As long as that wasn't a euphemism, and he still wasn't convinced on that front, it didn't sound all bad.

He wondered, fleetingly, if Bethan Taylor liked dangerous over skills in maths.

"Who are you?" he asked, gruff, instead of answering. Not answering was convenient, even strategic--before he answered, he had to decide.

Jack rolled his eyes a little. This seemed like far too much effort. Maybe he was just used to Ianto stepping into line. Well, apart from... though that was hardly relevant right now.

At the question, he stood a little taller.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said with a grin. "Trust me, it's a name you'll come to know well."

Ianto grumbled something that may well have been whatever.

"Right," he said, then, louder but rather (perhaps falsely) unimpressed, "Captain. What will we be doing down by the bay?"

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