m_findlow

Title: Last dance
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 590 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for darkhavens's prompt "any, any & or/any, If I say yes, will you go away?" at fic_promptly
Summary: Ianto finds himself agreeing to Jack's request

Jack loved weddings, and Gwen's was going to be no exception. There was just something about them that made him come over all stupid and nostalgic. Weddings were full of soppy romanticism, with a heavy dose of family angst and drunken friends added into the mix ensuring that the night was both entertaining and memorable. But by far the best part was the reception afterwards, and specifically, the dancing.

Dancing had been commonplace all throughout the early twentieth century, but then had just as suddenly fallen out of favour as a preferred social activity. Jack missed it, and so weddings became an excuse to rekindle one of his favourite past times.

Trying to get Ianto excited about the wedding was proving much more difficult. He couldn't understand the reticence. Surely he should have been happy that Gwen was finally getting hitched and moving past her ridiculous fantasies about having some alternate future with Jack. Perhaps it had nothing at all to do with that. The man was so impossible to read sometimes.

'Do you know what I love about weddings, Ianto?' he asked as the piping hot mug of coffee was placed carefully by the side of the coffee machine, and Ianto reached back to prepare his own, his efforts hindered by Jack's arms wrapped around his middle.

'The cake?' he replied blithely.

'Cake is good,' Jack agreed, 'but I was rather more hoping that I might get to dance with you?' The upward inflection at the end of the question suggested Jack was hopeful more than confident.

He felt Ianto tense in his arms. 'I'm not really much of a dancer,' Ianto replied awkwardly.

'That's okay, I'm sure I can lead you. Besides, you don't strike me as the two left feet type.'

Ianto let out a small scoffed noise. 'Nobody has ever lead me around a dance floor.' It wasn't said so much as a fact, as it was said in a way that suggested no one ever would. Jack didn't let it discourage his efforts.

'C'mon, Ianto. It's just one night. Gwen's special day.'

What he wanted, and what he should do, felt like completely opposing forces. He couldn't very well admit that he'd been sneaking off for the past six weeks, giving Rhys dancing lessons so that he wouldn't make a fool of himself on the big day. He'd spent quite enough time letting Rhys lead him around the floor as it was. And that was different. He was doing that to help out a friend. Jack was asking him to make a public declaration of their relationship.

Worse, the better Rhys had become, the less Ianto had to concentrate, leaving his mind free to wander. It was a dangerous thing because he could easily get stuck in mindless daydreams of being held by Jack instead of Rhys, and end up finding his body and face far closer to Rhys's than was strictly appropriate. Luckily it hadn't happened, but the temptation to fantasize about it was strong.

Besides, it was all well and good to be okay with dancing together, but at Gwen's wedding? In public?

'Please?' Jack begged, and Ianto realised he hadn't responded. 'Just one dance?' He squeezed tighter.

'If I say yes, will you go away?'

He received a kiss on the cheek as Jack grabbed his mug and slinked away to his office, a new spring in his step at the small victory.

He sighed and got the feeling that he'd just agreed to far more than what Jack had actually asked.