It was middle of the night and Jack was wide awake. He didn't especially mind, though. Not with Ianto Jones snoring softly on his shoulder. It seemed such a precious gift, that someone as guarded as Ianto usually was should invite Jack into his home and be comfortable enough to fall asleep with him. Deep down, Jack knew too well that a day would come when that gift of trust would be shattered by one of them – it always was when one party lacked the ability to die permanently, Jack found – but for now it was a gift he treasured.
As much as he enjoyed the cuddle, when Ianto shifted and pulled away, apparently without waking, turning to lie on his back, Jack couldn't deny appreciating the site. Ianto's upper body was fully exposed and his pale skin fairly glowed by the faint light that filtered in from the street lights outside. Goddesses… he was gorgeous, and seemed so… at peace. During the day, Ianto was always perfectly unobtrusive, but always seemed uneasy. It certainly wasn't inhibition, given his persistence when he first met Jack. But there seemed something there that just wouldn't let him relax. Post-traumatic stress, Jack reckoned.
Ianto shifted again, this time away from Jack, to lie on his other side. He still didn't appear to have quite woken up, but was murmuring something that Jack couldn't make out. After a moment, Jack recognized the word 'oer' and stifled a snicker at the thought of Ianto speaking Welsh in his sleep. Jack was just about pull the cover up over Ianto's exposed flesh, when Ianto reached back, groping blindly until he felt Jack's arm. Closing his fingers around Jack's wrist, he pulled Jack's hand over and held it against his shoulder, drifting off completely again.