Warnings: Slash, 'cause it's J/I.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to the BBC and RTD. I own nothing, I make nothing.
Ianto awoke at three o'clock in the morning, and automatically felt there was someone else in the house, though the other side of his bed was empty. He tensed and then smiled, realizing it was Jack. There was a feel to him, or maybe a smell, but whatever it was it was uniquely his. Ianto would recognize it anywhere. He got out of bed and walked into the living room, raising his eyebrows at what he saw.
Jack was propped up on the couch, back against the armrest, a book open in his lap. He looked deeply involved in the volume, and jumped when Ianto cleared his throat. "Good book?" Ianto asked. Jack shrugged, and held it out. "I guess," he said, "I don't really get it." Ianto took the proffered volume, and flipped thru the pages.
"I can't help you. This isn't in English. How many languages do you speak?"
"Well, not that one. Why is it on your shelves?"
" My sister probably gave it to me. She's always sending me stuff like this. I don't know why. Why are you looking at it if you can't understand it?"
Jack gave another shrug. "I was trying to figure out what it's written in." Ianto looked at it again.
"It's Cyrillic, Russian or Serbian, something like that. You should know that."
Jack took the book back, trailing his fingers along the page. "I do… I just…"
Ianto sat on the back of the couch and closed his fingers over Jack's hand.
"You weren't really looking at it were you? As I recall, you weren't here when I went to bed. Bad night?" Jack pulled Ianto over the edge of the sofa and into his lap.
"Just restless." he said, "I can't close my eyes without seeing... You know what it's like."
Ianto nodded.
"The dead still screaming. I understand that." He kissed Jack's forehead. "Why didn't you come to the bed? There's always room."
"I tried." Jack said, "You were so sound asleep. I just couldn't. It's hard for me lately." His tone was one of confession, but he wasn't saying anything Ianto didn't already know. Their nights together always ended apart, recently. Ianto had long ago stopped suspecting it was due to Jack's nightmares. He knew. He had nightmares of his own, but they were less frequent, probably because they were less populated. He didn't speak this aloud to Jack, just kissed him, slowly and deep. When he pulled back Jack met his eyes with an intensity that usually made his knees weak. Tonight it made him feel sad and pitying.
Ianto brushed Jack's hair back from his forehead. He couldn't think of one thing to say that wasn't a platitude. He didn't want to say 'it'll go away in time', or 'you'll forget it eventually', because he knew it would be a lie. He knew it would be a lie, and Jack would know it, too. Instead he said, "Would you like breakfast?"
Jack smiled, (his million-watt grin that told Ianto all serious discussion was done), and nodded enthusiastically.
"I raided your pantry when I got here, but everything needed to be made. You have no tinned soup, or frozen dinners. Nothing pre-packaged. If I'm going to be here often, you need to change that."
"Ooh, I'll remember that next time I draw up a shopping list. Jack requires convenience when he breaks in."
"I have a key. You gave it to me."
Ianto gave him an exasperated look. "I gave you a key, but not a license to critique my cupboards. I swear, if it weren't for me, and the pizza delivery boy, you'd starve to death."
Jack looked entirely unabashed. "I'd come back. I might keep dieing and reviving until you poured broth down my throat, but I'd come back."
Jack's tone was jovial, but the joke fell flat. Ianto silently inspected the contents of his kitchen, his mouth tight. He watched Jack shove his hands into his pockets out of the corner of his eye, and he wondered if he got it.
"I'm sorry," Jack said, and Ianto held out hope, "after what you've been thru, I shouldn't joke like that. Not every one can come back."
Ianto rolled his eyes. "That isn't the problem. When you die, Jack, you die."
He turned from the refrigerator to meet Jack's eyes. He saw nothing but confusion there. "When you die, when you're hurt, it feels real to me. Every time. You come back, but that doesn't mean the pain wasn't real. I... never mind."
Ianto felt his cheeks grow warm, and his hands grew cold. He'd never meant to say anything like that out loud, and he watched Jack's expression closely, trying to see how much of mess he'd just made. Jack stared at him blankly for a moment before lowering his eyes.
"I'm so sorry" Jack said, "I never realized…"
"Hey, it doesn't matter. I'm just being morose. I can do an omelet. Would that be alright?"
Jack bit his lip. "Are you sure? Because what you just said is pretty big-"
Ianto cut him off with a scoff. "An omelet is hardly a large task. And we are speaking of omelets. I could do pancakes as well. Which would you prefer?"
Ianto watched as relief flooded Jack's face, and he knew that the crisis had passed. "Pancakes," Jack said, "I love it when you make those."
Ianto turned away, and started pulling out the ingredients. He was breaking the eggs into the batter when Jack wrapped his arms around his waist.
"Decide you want eggs and pancakes? I can do that, too." Ianto felt Jack smile into his neck, and he smiled back in return.
"Just pancakes are fine," Jack said, "I just love this; being like this, with you. It's nice." Ianto closed his eyes and leaned back into the embrace. "I love it too", he said. "Next time, we really must have an actual night before breakfast."
Jack laughed, and Ianto felt safe. Comfortable and safe. It didn't escape his attention that neither of them had pressed their words. Neither had said 'I love you', and maybe neither had meant it. It was just one more thing that would go un-thought about, and unsaid. Like so many other things; like every other thing. That was the safe way of doing this, whatever this was. He continued preparing the batter, and Jack continued watching him. When breakfast was had, they'd go to work, and probably come back here, and, maybe, Jack would stay the night. Ianto wouldn't press him. Because this, whatever it was, was nice, and Ianto wanted to keep it that way. He served Jack his pancakes, and they ate together in silence.