So. . . Janto Christmas morning! Merry Cristmas to everyone (and a happy New Year)!
"Good morning!" Jack chirped in an enthusiastic singsong, jumping onto Ianto.
"Go away," Ianto mumbled in a deep and tired voice.
"But it's Christmas. . ." Jack pouted, an adorably sad look on his face.
"Christmas morning," Ianto continued, annoyed now, his words giving the message that he had the right to be asleep.
"Presents, Ianto!" Jack shouted with a childish glee.
"Can wait," Ianto finished firmly.
"But. . ." Jack whined.
"Sleep," Ianto ordered.
"Not even if I—"
"No," Ianto cut of Jack's begging.
"Or if I—"
"No," authoritative Ianto came out, but quickly burrowed further under the covers once again.
"Coffee?" Jack sounded desperate.
"No," Ianto not only sounded mad, he also sounded horrified at he prospect of drinking the slop Jack called coffee.
"Presents!" Jack begged, absolutely, totally, and completely desperate.
"Sleep," Ianto was equally desperate.
"Please. . ." Jack's pout doubled in strength.
"Yes," Ianto's eyes closed while Jack's lit up. "Please go away."
"You're warm," Jack was suddenly burrowed into Ianto's back.
"No," Ianto leaned away from Jack.
"Why?" Jack whined.
"Snuggling turns to groping," Ianto stated matter-of-factly, his voice still deep from sleep.
"So?" Jack asked, confused.
"Groping turns to sex," Ianto informed him again.
"So?"
"I'm sleeping," Ianto silently begged him to take the hint and shut up.
"I won't, I promise," Jack whispered, putting his hands around Ianto's middle.
"'Kay," Ianto breathed, snuggling deeper into his blanket and moving closer to Jack.
"I like this," Jack whispered against his neck, sounding surprised at the domesticity.
"Hands," Ianto warned when Jack's came too close to his. . . well. . . you get the idea.
"Sorry," Jack was actually sheepish.
"It's okay," Ianto let himself drift away once more.
"When are we doing presents?" Jack asked out of the blue about five minutes later.
"Later," Ianto growled, pulled out of the beginning of another dream.
"Fine," Jack pouted.
"Good night," Ianto said, daring Jack to contradict him.
"It's morning," Jack didn't take the hint.
"Jack. . ." Ianto warned again.
"Sorry," Jack hurriedly squeaked.
"Hands!" Ianto demanded again, annoyed more than angry.
"Sorry," Jack answered sincerely.
"'Kay. . ." Ianto was already asleep.
"Ianto?" Jack interrupted the silence.
"Mmm. . ." Ianto murmured.
"Are you asleep?" Jack asked, comfortable under the blankets.
"Clearly," Ianto yawned.
"Oh, okay," Jack nodded.
"Stop thinking," Ianto said after a lengthy silence.
"Sorry," again.
"Hands," he never learns, does he?
"Sleep, Ianto," Jack lifted an eyebrow, amused.
"Okay," Ianto sleepily agreed.
"Hmm. . ." Jack hummed happily, inhaling Ianto's scent.
"Jack?" Ianto asked.
"I thought you were sleeping," Jack chuckled.
"Happy Christmas," Ianto smiled, turning over in bed to face Jack.
"You, too, Ianto," Jack smiled, content.
Ianto answered by breathing calmly into Jack's face.
"And. . . you're asleep," Jack laughed.
"Quiet," Ianto reminded him, returning Jack's hug.
"Handsy," Jack teased.
"Only when we wake up," Ianto bargained.
"Yay," Jack moved closer (if that was possible).
"Shh," Ianto silenced Jack with a kiss, and was asleep (hopefully not to be interrupted anymore) as soon as their lips parted.