Sometimes Ianto wondered about the effect of stimulants and depressants – Jack had once told him that some people have a genetic mutation that produces more of an enzyme that metabolizes coffee, and then showed him which allele on his own genetic analysis carried the mutation.
Of course, Jack was an anomaly, as ever. Caffeine definitely had a stimulating effect on Jack, but alcohol didn't have a depressive one. And sex… most people fell asleep after sex, didn't they? Jack certainly did whenever possible. Ianto, however, usually laid awake, thinking. It usually struck him as exceptionally unfair. Not that he would ever begrudge Jack restful sleep, but Ianto wished it would do as much for him.
Some nights he would lie awake more than an hour, usually looking at Jack, wondering what his life had been like all those years before, what it would be like all those years to come. Well, maybe not all those years. He didn't think that was actually possible, and was probably best avoided. It was usually the relatively more immediate years to come Ianto found himself wondering about.
Despite himself, one of the things Ianto found himself wondering was how long he and Jack would be together. Which, unfortunately, was essentially wondering how long he had to be alive. He and Jack… it wasn't likely they'd stop doing what they were doing. He couldn't imagine any reason for them to quit, anyway. It wasn't like either were ever going to end up in an exclusive relationship with anyone else. But then, if Ianto did manage to escape the Torchwood curse for some while, maybe that would mean being with Jack for a long time. Which was a kinda nice thought.
If he was honest, Ianto thought about it more than he cared to admit. What would it be like, him and Jack, carrying on together for years? Of course, the inevitable thought followed – he would age, Jack wouldn't. Maybe that would be a limiting factor for him and Jack, maybe Jack wouldn't want to stay after a certain point – would it be the wrinkles, or thinning hair, or the little extra weight….
Then again, it was Jack after all, and he did seem to go for just about anything. Ianto had seen Jack's head turned by more than a few… gentlemen of a certain age. So maybe Jack would stay around. Except, Ianto himself wouldn't. Not in the end. Which brought him right back round to the subject of how long he really had, and what it would be like for Jack, going on afterward. On to others.
Not that they had anything exclusive, of course. Except that Ianto was reasonably sure that neither of them had been with anybody else in the months since Jack had come back and offered to take Ianto on an actual, proper date. But Ianto had always sort of thought that the unspoken, underlying basis of a long-term relationship was that, ideally, both partners would… well, end things, relatively within the same general timeframe – years, maybe a decade or two – not… centuries? Millennia?
Jack would just go on. He'd have others, countless others, no doubt. Maybe he'd even love – well, not that Ianto was exactly sure that was how Jack felt about him – but would he remember Ianto? Would it matter? Was there any chance of an afterlife, would Ianto spend eternity… up there, amidst the clouds or whatever, watching Jack's living eternity?
Ianto reminded himself that that whole eternity thing didn't bear contemplating.
Ianto sighed and wished he had one of those enzymes that converted mind-blowing orgasms into a sleeping drug in his system.
Beside him in the dark, Jack snored once and twitched, shifting and turning over without seeming to actually wake at all. He threw an arm over Ianto's waist and snuggled in close, trading his own pillow for Ianto's shoulder and letting out a contented sigh. "Night-night, Tiger," Jack murmured, before snoring lightly again and drifting back off.
Ianto couldn't help smiling and kissing the top of Jack's head. "Nos da, Capten. Cysgu'n dda," Ianto whispered.
Whatever it was, it wasn't nothing. And that might be just enough after all, Ianto thought as he finally began to feel drowsy.