For Kat, who introduced me to Torchwood, and canon slash.

Edit: I decided to explain this, as I think some are getting a little confused. This is in Jack's perspective. All of it. The italicized 'he's, 'his's, 'him's, etc. all refer to Ianto. Sorry that I didn't mention this before. Really sorry.


The thing was, he never expected it to happen again. Well, not really. It was more he promised to never let it happen again. It hurt too much, he lived too long - forever - and they too short - not enough, never enough - for the - very - few years of happiness it gave him.

Promised, promised himself, because he could remember her and her and him and so many - so many - others, because he lived forever, and he always had to leave and they always had to die, and even a hundred years of unaged life was too much, let alone thousands - forever.

Pushed away the feelings and went for her even if she was married now, and they had danced, but then they danced, and it was warm and beautiful and they fit together perfectly, they always had, especially when they kissed.

He was amazing and intelligent and damn if his coffee wasn't ambrosia and his lips more so, and the look of him made him dizzy, and the taste of him made him weak, and that Was. Not. Good. Was not good, because he had promised himself. Promised, but he hadn't felt like this in so long so he thought it was alright, and he forgot how easily it was to fall - fall hard - with the right person - him.

Him in his arms, on his bed, arching, gasping, or overtop him, torturing him, and always - always - driving him crazy even if they weren't touching, because even when he just saw him across the room working, especially if their eyes met, he could think of nothing else but him. Touching him, even if it was just a brush; kissing him, even if it was only a peck; having sex, making love, and it had been a long time since he had used that phrasing. Love, love love love, and sonuva bitch he was so screwed.

Lived forever, and days passed in a blink of an eye to him, years in two, and everything faded into meshed emotions, but their time together always felt so there, so real, so perfect.

It wouldn't last, he would age, he wouldn't. He would die - die - just like the others - her in his arms, crimson seeping slowly from her stomach as she bled out and one last final smile, a thank you, an 'it's alright' ……… him alone, never heard his last words, alone and dissolving in radiation with no one to hold his hand - and that thought made him so desperate one day that he sent her home early - live one more day, enjoy one more moment, love your husband, love him dearly, never let him go, you could lose him, he could lose you, at any day - and took him to his room, and spent hours - hours - worshipping every last inch of him, taking him again and again and storing every moan, every whimper, every cry, every look, hording it away for when he was gone - gone gone gone - and nothing but another ghost - so many ghosts and where was the breaking point or had he already snapped and not realized it.

Holding him in his arms, him asking what was wrong and him just shaking his head and kissing him, and kissing him again, and again and again and again, and soon he was taking him again, and afterwards he was so exhausted he fell asleep, almost comatose - looking dead but for the flush on his cheeks and soft snores - in his grasp, and soon feeling the rare act of sleep grip him as well.

Waking to soothing words, hands on his face, and the sound of crying, and it took him some time to realize it was him crying and he was holding him. Low shushing noises and a hand running through his hair. Holding him tight and finally calming. Him asking what's wrong - again - and he wanted to shake his head - again - but he started murmuring, and his grip tightened as he spoke and at the end of it all - though it was really just the beginning, but it all he could say right now - he kissed him, slow and languid. Sweet and soft and afterwards he just smiled. I can't promise you forever, he said, neither can you, but I'm here now, for as long as possible, I'll be here for you.

He smiled back.

Me too...

There was more to say - definitely so much more - but words still hurt too much. So it was good for now… For now.

Unspoken whispers float in the wind…

I love you…

I love you too…

Love. Love, love, love…


I'm not sure I like this yet... It's just... I'm not sure. It depends on the mood I'm in, because I can think of so many ways to portray Jack, this only being one of them, and when I'm thinking of a different portrayel, this one just seems so... sappy, I suppose is the word I'm looking for. Well, let me know what you think.

...It's getting to the point where my italicizing should be disabled, doncha think? But I just love it so much.

...I am the master of run-on sentences. Case in point: my longest paragraph is all one sentence... Does this annoy any of you? Or do you like the way it's written? I found it interesting to italicize the 'him's referring to Ianto, and also italicizing and underlining the 'their's referring to both of them. I just thought it would be a neat style.