IN PASSING
There was surprisingly little in the neat flat for him to pack away. Ianto's personal possessions amounted to three boxes, one of those containing only photos and his journals, the other two books, mostly poetry and medieval literature. The furniture and appliances were irrelevant and Ianto had certainly not valued them in life. Jack sighed. Ianto Jones the last member of his original team, born Aug 19th 1983, died July 18th 2012, he hadn't even made it to thirty. He looked around the place he had himself come to regard as home, it could certainly never be that now, not without him there. It was too soon, just way too fucking soon, they had only just really begun their relationship, had finally overcome their inner doubts and fears and.... well, it was over now. The how didn't matter, the emptiness would be with him for a long time to come. The flat was now his, apparently. Ianto had left everything to him, most likely because there was no one else, though Jack knew that wasn't the case. Ianto had wanted him to keep the flat and use it as his home, away from the Hub. Jack had promised him that he would, but not yet.... it was just too fucking soon, the place still smelt of his lover, and Jack found himself waiting for the young man to stride into the room fastening his tie with that look of adorable exasperation on his face when he discovered that Jack was still in bed. Jack flopped back on that very same bed, now stripped of its coverings. He stared at the ceiling, how many times had he looked up there with his lover leaning over him, kissing his body with those beautiful soft lips and Welsh tongue. Words of enduring love whispered against his skin. Jack's gut hurt so badly and all he wanted to do right there and then was die just one last time. He lay there for a long time unmoving, unthinking; lost. He knew that right now Ianto would be mad as hell seeing him like this, but it was just too soon to stop grieving. So often in the past he had not allowed himself this indulgence and it had sat in his bones like a rank decay, stripping his soul bare piece by piece. Ianto had put those pieces back together and now he was gone. Jack knew he would survive without him, he had no choice in the matter, the loss of his lover was inevitable, everyone in Jack's life went the same way.
He finally realised that it was getting dark and discovered that he couldn't bring himself to leave the flat. It was his home after all. This was where he had learnt to take off his armour and just be whoever he wanted to be. This is where he became friend, lover, domestic goddess and just Jack, Ianto's boyfriend. He couldn't leave it now. It was home, even if Ianto was no longer there, he would stay. It's what Ianto had worked so hard for, for both of them. He leant forwards and opened up the first box he had packed only that morning. He hung the few photos back on the wall and returned the books to the shelf and Ianto's diaries to the bedside cabinet. Once done he wandered into the kitchen and made coffee, proper coffee the way Ianto had showed him how and he was amazed at how good it tasted, even today. Jack found himself smiling at the thought and looked skyward for a moment.
"Thanks Yan."