Title: This Website Closed for Maintenance (or Why Jack Should Not Be Allowed Near the Internet) 2/2
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Ianto, Rhiannon, Jack, Rhys; Jack/Ianto
Summary: As the Number One Ianto Jones Appreciator, Jack thinks the IJS header could use more... Ianto. You know, more.
Warnings: Angst like woah, fluff, IMAGE HEAVY
Disclaimer: If I owned Torchwood, the boys would have had more screentime together, more sex, and Ianto would still be alive.
A/N: In celebration of the launching of the Ianto Jones Society, here: theijs.
I have no idea why, but these fics are getting less and less cracky.

Seconds later, or that's what it felt like anyway, Rhys Williams woke up to the sound of Jack Harkness yelling in his living room.

Rhys stumbled out of bed.

"Look," Jack was snarling down his phone, "if you're going to be a brat-" He was promptly cut of by Ianto who was yelling loud enough for Rhys to hear snatches of words such as "-ard" and "off" and "-oddam-"

"Fine," snapped Jack. "Don't bother coming in to work today. Go and sulk in your room like the child you are." He hung up and threw the phone onto the couch. Looking up, he caught Rhys staring. "What?" he snarled.

Rhys hastily put up his hands. "Nothing mate. But if Ianto's anything like Gwen, arguing back isn't going to make it any better."

"Good thing Ianto isn't Gwen then," Jack snapped back, then stalked over into the kitchen and started rooting around in the cupboards -stalking into Rhys' kitchen and messing around in Rhys' cupboards. Oh god, what had he done to deserve this?

Jack pulled out a box of pancake mix. "What do you want for breakfast? I'm cooking."

Apparently cooking helped Jack relax. Who knew?

-oOo-

Ianto stepped into the Tourist Office, angry at the world at large. He'd still come to work despite Jack telling him not to. They'd ended up having another row in the office until Gwen had come in and threatened to shoot them both if they didn't shut up immediately. Then they'd been forced to endure her dressing down about keeping relationships out of the workplace and acting like adults -like she'd never brought up Rhys in front of Jack when she was fighting for something she wanted or like she'd never had a massive blow up with Rhys before.

He knew she'd meant well, though, and she did have a point, but it hadn't stopped him from stalking out of the room and slamming the door behind him before locking himself in the Archives. He'd refused to come up for anything, not even lunch, and by the end of the day hunger had just made him angrier and caffeine deprivation hadn't improved Jack's mood either.

Gwen had left, not before admonishing them both to stop acting stupid and make up. She'd extended an invitation to Jack to stay over again if he still wasn't allowed home, but when she'd gone to kiss Ianto on the cheek she'd given him a glare that clearly told him she did not want to see Captain Jack Harkness on her doorstep again.

That hadn't stopped them from having another argument, which had quickly ended up in a fight and rather rough sex.

Now, approaching midnight, he was tired, hungry and sore, but still adamant that he wasn't about to forgive Jack so quickly. Yet he also had to admit that he didn't want to fight anymore. He wanted to curl up in bed with Jack, and eat Jack's great cooking, and make love instead of trying throw each other up against the wall. He wanted Jack to stop being an idiot. He wanted to understand how Jack's brain worked.

"I'm just trying to show how much I love you!"
"Funny way of showing that, sir. Most people would consider that harassment."

At that point everything had gone downhill and they'd ended up leaving Jack's office in ruins. Gwen was going to have a fit tomorrow morning, convinced that they'd been trying to kill each other. Which wasn't quite so far from the truth, really.

Jack had then left the Hub. The SUV wasn't in the basement, and Ianto couldn't be arsed to track him. For all he knew Jack could have gone off for a shag with a stranger, which would just be more proof of what an absolute bastard he really was.

Fighting down the rage that rose at the thought, Ianto dropped heavily into the chair behind he desk. Maybe he could order takeaway from one of those twenty-four hour shops. He didn't want to go home back to his flat and empty bed, not when he was still simmering with anger. He had a camp-bed in the Archive, he could stay sleep there for the night, just like he'd done back when Lisa had been in the basement.

Lisa. He didn't think he'd ever had a row like this with her. What if they'd had? What would he have done then? He was no stranger to sleeping on the couch, but Lisa would never have thrown him our of their flat? If she had, would he have gone to a friend's? Would they have broken up after that?

Was he going to break up with Jack?

Feeling sick, he reached for a stack of flyers, determined not to think about that possibility.

That was when he saw the Post-Its.

I didn't mean to embarrass you, or to violate your privacy. But I know people sometimes wonder why I'm with you. I know you do too.

I'm not saying you're not confident in yourself. Just stop being so goddamn self-deprecating. You're gorgeous dammit, and you're mine!

And I want to tell the world that. I know I'm being sappy. I don't care.

So if anyone's being a wanker, it's you, sayang*. Because I'm the one who doesn't deserve someone as amazing as you.

I never meant to hurt you and I hope you will accept this apology. I love you. So very, very, much.

You are the cream in my coffee (even though I take it black).
You are the sun in my sky.
You are the happiness in my day.
You are the smile on my face.
You are the beat in my heart.
You are my Ianto.

Ianto read them several times. Then he screwed them all up into a tight ball and threw them into the bin.

He went out and got some fish and chips, then settled in the little side room in the Tourist Office to eat. He'd barely gotten halfway through the meal when he had to set it aside, his throat too thick to swallow. Much to his annoyance, tears were running freely down his cheeks. God, he was such a girl, crying over some stupid arsehole.

The bead curtain rattled and he looked up, wiping his face furiously on the torn sleeve of his shirt.

It was Jack, and he looked like he'd been crying too. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, and the next think Ianto knew, they were both on their knees on the dusty floor of the tiny room, clutching at each other like they never wanted to let go and bawling like babies.

"I'm sorry," Jack kept mumbling, burying his face in Ianto's shoulder and getting tears and snot all over Ianto shirt. Which was probably unsalvageable anyway.

"You've been watching me," Ianto muttered, as stared absently at his hands, clawing into Jack's back. His nails were probably leaving indentations on the skin though the shirt. Ianto could feel Jack swallow.

"Was on the roof of the Millenium Center. Can access CCTV on my smartphone."

That would explain why Jack felt so cold. "I know. I installed that app for you."

"I never said thank you."

"Well, it was Tosh who made it."

"You know what Tosh would do if she saw us like this?"

"What?"

"Lock us in the cells."

"With Janet?"

"Nah, that would be Owen."

Ianto found himself giggling, but choked on it and it ended up a wet kind of snort. Jack snorted back and soon they were both huddled in a giggle-snorting pile on the floor.

Soon they fell quiet and unmoving, but Ianto didn't pay much attention to his legs which had both gone uncomfortably to sleep.

Then Jack broke the silence. "Ianto," he said quietly. "Let's go home."

-oOo-

IANTO has entered the conversation

RHIANNON: I see there's a new header up. Not as...exposed as the old one, thank god, but it's clearly still a photo of you.
RHIANNON: You and Jack come to a compromise?
RHIANNON: Kissed and made up and all that?
IANTO: Yes.
IANTO: But he owes me several weeks of mind-blowing make-up sex.
RHIANNON: TMI!
RHIANNON: That's nice to know.
RHIANNON: I'm sure he meant well.
RHIANNON: He's utterly besotted with you, you know?
RHIANNON: But he reminds me a bit of Johnny, they can both be very bad at the "feelings" thing.
IANTO: What does Johnny do?
RHIANNON: Clomps into the kitchen in his dirty boots then sweeps me up and gives me a snog. While I'm cooking. He's lucky I haven't dropped a pot on him yet.
IANTO: Lol.
RHIANNON: Hey, if you need someone to do the graphics for the site, Johnny can do it.
RHIANNON: He's been taking a Photoshop course. He's pretty good at it too. I'll send you of the stuff he made of the kids.
IANTO: I don't think Johnny would be interested in doing stuff for the IJS.
RHIANNON: You're wrong there, Ianto-bach.
RHIANNON: He does like you, you know.
RHIANNON: He writes haikus about you on the IJS.
RHIANNON: Not so much about you and Jack. Just you. He's very proud of you. He'd just rather jump off a cliff than say it.
IANTO: JOHNNY DOES WHAT?
IANTO: ... O_O;;

Fin

*sayang - Boeshanian term of endearment