"You must have had a thousand lovers, why am I any different?"
Lying in his bunker Jack considered Ianto's question, the words spoken in anger and through tears.
Why was Ianto any different? After all, Jack had had plenty of lovers; male, female, human, alien, unknown. All of them were unique, with their own quirks and foibles but Ianto was different. Totally different.
Perhaps it was his stubbornness in those first few weeks; his determination to be seen and heard. Perhaps it was his vulnerability, the way he bowed his head when he felt uncomfortable and shied away from the world. Perhaps it was his accent; that lovely Welsh lilt or, perhaps it was the image of him naked, with only a UNIT cap upon his head. No, Jack thought, it was more than that. There was a connection between him and Ianto which ran deeper than physical attraction, deeper than lust or affection. Deeper, even, than love.
Jack knew he'd never forget Ianto. On his last day this side of the grave, his dying thought would be of a young Welshman and the bond which had tied them together so very long ago.
Yes Jack had had a thousand lovers, but he'd only had one soulmate.