So... there's no excuse. End of Days missing scene... and it came out fluffy. What?! The usual spoilers and disclaimers can be assumed.
It breeds, Jack thought, glaring resentfully at the paperwork in front of him. I swear it does. He leaned back with a grumble. Surely being dead for three days entitled him to a break? Then again, maybe three days was his break. No wonder there were so many files on his desk.
"Not the way I'd have chosen to spend time off," Jack muttered, flicking a file closed and looking around for a distraction. With impeccable timing, a soft knock sounded from his doorway. Ianto entered without waiting for Jack's acknowledgement, the ever-present blue and white mug in his hand.
With a warm smile, Jack stood up to meet him. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Ianto yet, not privately, and he was pretty sure that it was high time. Everything that had happened, from the team's visions and mutiny, through Jack's deaths, and the fact that he'd kissed Ianto in front of the whole team... they definitely had a few things to discuss, just the two of them. Away from Torchwood, if Jack could talk Ianto into taking a long lunch break with him.
Ianto returned his smile hesitantly, and let Jack capture his hand as he passed off the mug. "Just tea, sorry," he murmured. "I'm afraid we've had a few casualties in the kitchen." His smile faltered.
Always too soon. Jack pulled him closer and set the cup aside in favor of cradling Ianto's hand in both of his. "Hey—"
"Jack," Ianto blurted out. "Jack, I'm so sorry—"
"Hey." Jack pulled him in, wrapping his arms around the young man and allowing Ianto to bury his face in Jack's shoulder. "It's okay," he assured him. "I know. I forgive you. And it turned out alright in the end, yeah?"
"Only because you… died." Ianto's arms tightened around Jack's waist. "Because you sacrificed yourself."
Jack shrugged. Ianto raised his head.
"Don't," he said, frowning slightly.
"What?" Jack asked. "It didn't stick."
"No, but…" Ianto's blue eyes searched Jack's for a long moment. "I'm sorry," he said again. He reached up, hesitantly, to brush his fingers through Jack's hair. Jack let his eyes fall closed and leaned slightly into the touch. "You mustn't throw your life away, Jack. Please."
Jack opened his eyes in surprise. "I'll always come back."
Ianto held his gaze, a torrent of emotions frozen in that pale blue. "Even so," he whispered, "I'm sorry."
And finally Jack understood everything this incredible young man was apologizing for. "Oh, Ianto," he murmured, and tucked him close into his chest. He pushed his face into Ianto's dark hair and breathed deeply. "It's okay," he promised. "I'm okay." He ran his fingers through the soft strands of Ianto's hair, feeling his sometimes-lover settle against him… and felt at peace. It felt strange — and nice — that Ianto knew his secret and still came back, asking forgiveness and not explanations. He realized that perhaps he could have done this ages ago — perhaps if he hadn't kept so many secrets, pushed Ianto away so vehemently, he wouldn't have pushed him to the breaking point. Ianto's mutiny had cut Jack to the quick, but he knew that it was partially his own fault.
And this… well, this was a wake-up call. After that heartache with 1941 and back again, finally Jack was opening his damn eyes to something extraordinary right in front of him. Jack carded his fingers through Ianto's hair, feeling the young man's soft sigh against his neck, and bit his lip. Maybe… just maybe, Ianto was worth more. He'd already managed to sneak farther into Jack's closely guarded heart than Jack had ever intended, but maybe he was worth letting in: worth telling the truth to, because he could handle it; worth spending time with, because he made Jack happy. And… maybe even worth coming back to.
"Ianto," Jack began quietly, "listen. D'you think, maybe, when this is all over—"
"Jack?" Gwen's voice from the doorway sent Ianto leaping back as if scalded. Jack stubbornly seized his hand before it slipped out of his grasp.
Gwen didn't seem to notice. "Oh, Ianto. Hey, is there any chance of a coffee run? I think Tosh and Owen were about to go…"
Jack opened his mouth to say that clearly the expedition didn't require Ianto's immediate attention, but the archivist beat him to it.
"No problem," he said crisply, liberating his hand from Jack and then straightening his suit. Jack was fairly sure that Gwen didn't notice the faint pink flush across his cheeks. He glanced at Jack. "Um… perhaps we could continue when I get back, sir?"
Jack hesitated — then he gave Ianto a small smile. "Sure," he agreed. He could send the others home, or retreat to the relative privacy of the Archives to have a talk with his young Welshman. The coffee run could even give him a chance to think about what he was going to say in the first place. "It'll keep."