Set fairly late season 1, between ep8 and ep12, so very minor spoilers for everything up til then. Warning for implied m/m sexual relationship (like that's not what you're all looking for…) This little ficlet was inspired by the song "Don't Leave Home" by Dido, and her remark on it at a concert. I suggest you go listen to the song, because it's wonderful.
The Hub is quiet after hours in a way that it never is when Ianto is working, even when it's just him left. He thinks idly that it's amazing, really, how removed this little room seems to be from the main Hub, despite being directly underneath Jack's office.
Neither of them has made any move to leave the tiny bed, to shatter this little bubble of warmth and companionship they've found. Jack just runs his fingers slowly through Ianto's hair, and Ianto idly traces the patterns cast across Jack's skin by the shifting blue light of the Hub. At some point, though, it does cross Ianto's mind that this might be past his cue to leave. He ducks away from the thought, scrunching a little closer to Jack. The Captain pauses, then draws his arm around Ianto's shoulders. Ianto glances up at those blue eyes, sees nothing that tells him to go. Jack's fingers stroke his shoulder soothingly, and Ianto smiles slightly, knowing that that's his answer.
Jack smiles back, and Ianto curls in close to him, closing his eyes. Part of his reason is that Jack is just so incredibly warm — not just his skin, but his voice and manner and actions here, too. It's something Ianto found himself missing almost desperately when he didn't have it. He still isn't sure how he feels about the fact that the awful time just after Lisa's final death would have been easier to bear had he not also lost Jack then, too. He hasn't quite processed that, even now; it's easier to shove the disconcerting thought away, so very easy now that he's back in the Captain's bed and there are no pretenses this time, just warm skin against skin. He's also pushing aside the insidious thought that this can't last, that nothing good ever lasts around Torchwood, that nothing can ever be as simple as pure want and need between the two of them.
He pushes all those thoughts away, and lets Jack wrap his arms around him with a soft, contented sigh. As much as the irony could send him into fits of (slightly hysterical) laughter if he let it — he feels safe here. As long as he doesn't think 'for now.' It's nice. It's warm, and it's convenient, and it's an admittedly unorthodox way for them to reconnect. They understand each other, at least — they both know what this is and what it isn't, and they never mention anything about who might want it to be more.
Jack's lips touch his temple softly. "I can hear you thinking," he murmurs, a deep rumble in the chest Ianto's pressed up against.
"Mmn," Ianto mumbles back, which makes Jack chuckle. "'m not thinking." He definitely doesn't look closely at how true that might be. Instead he presses his nose into the hollow of Jack's throat and inhales deeply. "Not thinking," he repeats sleepily. "'s nice."
Jack chuckles again, running gentle fingers through Ianto's hair. He could almost purr with contentment.
It is nice here. It's nice to not think about it. It's nice to be warm. It's nice to feel safe.
Once again, Ianto falls asleep peacefully surrounded by Jack, his last lingering thought being that this isn't a place he wants to leave.
~fin~
Author's Note: This is a personal interpretation of their relationship in season 1. I'm perfectly happy to get way too deep in discussion over Torchwood and Janto if you want to drop me a review or PM about it. :) Anyway, hope you enjoyed.