Portents.
Lying on the floor, Ianto was stretched out on his front studying the book in front of him. He loved the books Tosh had given him. The first book had been no challenge, but the rest were much harder. Right now he was stuck on 'The Land of Wallys'. All the characters looked just like Wally; he had found the wizard and the dog, but Wally was sneaky. He glanced up at Jack who was reading the newspaper. He kept telling Jack he could read the news online but no, he liked the newspaper. Jack also liked doing the crossword puzzle; the Sudoku he always gave to Ianto. It was easy; he could see the pattern immediately and could just fill in the numbers. The crossword however was different. It was words and words were what he struggled with the most. He always had to really think about the right word to use.
"Jaaaack?" Ianto said carefully.
"Yeees?" Jack asked not looking up from his newspaper.
"We are going to practice kissing tonight, aren't we?" Ianto asked. He didn't look up from his book.
"We practice every night," Jack reminded him.
He smiled. Good; they needed more practice. Practice now included mornings in bed or the shower and sometimes all day. He loved the game Jack had invented; it involved lots of fun kissing and touching each other, tickling and more kissing and orgasms.
"Jaaaaack?" he asked again.
"Yeeeess," Jack said still reading.
"You said things like touching and kissing made you hard," Ianto said still concentrating on the book in front of him. "What about thinking?"
"Definitely, thinking can make you hard," Jack replied.
"Cos I was thinking about kissing you and I got hard and sometimes when I just think about you and it happens," he told him.
"That's normal. Many things make you hard Ianto, thinking about sex is one of them," Jack explained.
"I still can't do that thing on my own, I never seem to get it going right," Ianto said looking up now.
Jack looked around from his newspaper at Ianto who was looking at him with a cheeky grin.
"You know except for that first time, I think you only say that because you would rather I did it or we do it together," Jack grinned. Ianto bit his lips then smiled like his secret had been discovered then returned to his book.
Jack went back to reading his paper. Ianto's step into sexual maturity had had some unexpected side effects for both of them. It had meant a far higher degree of physical intimacy, something they both very much enjoyed. Jack had been carefully introducing little elements he knew Ianto had enjoyed in the past. Making love to Ianto was wonderful. His experiments on kissing had moved from lips to other things, and anything he found he enjoyed he wanted to check this had the same effect on Jack.
Often Ianto just wanted to lie next to him and just kiss. Ianto had always been a great kisser, moving towards completion via a mutual hand grasp. They did this because Ianto had a love of the familiar. Other times he wanted to explore. He found Jack's and had his own penis fascinating and had found delight in playing with it, often doing direct comparisons. He had even measured them much to Jack's amusement. Ianto had just discovered he loved watching Jack as he came and would delight in bringing him to orgasm just to observe.
On the other hand Jack wanted to give as much pleasure to Ianto as he could. To do this he had come up with a new game which Ianto adored. It was called 'how many times can Ianto come in one day?' Six was the record and every now and then he would challenge Ianto to see if he could beat it. He saved this game for when Ianto became unsettled in some way as a means of distracting him and it worked. They had spent many a cold and wet afternoon in bed, snuggling under the covers as Ianto attempted to beat his recovery time.
It was satisfying in a way he had not experienced for a long time. The only problem was he was beyond exhausted. It was growing, a bone-aching exhaustion he had been fighting for months, and the cold he had gotten earlier in the year had just made it that much worse. Every day it was like a little more energy was stolen away, leaving him a wreck.
To begin with he had tried to resolve it with more sleep and this had worked for a short period. However as time passed no matter how much he slept he had begun to wake up as exhausted as he did before he went to sleep. Every day he forced himself forward because the simplest of tasks were becoming increasingly difficult. Stairs were the worst. The walk into the village left him so tired he could barely stand. He was losing weight and since Veronica had raised the issue he had upped his calories but his weight still continued to fall. It was like he was burning energy somehow, but he was curious to why because his physical activity was no more or less since their arrival.
He went back over the conversations he had had with Owen and Veronica. He had told them the truth; he put this all down to nearly three years of hard work and no break. He had never been prone to illness; his 51st Century physiology protecting him from almost every bacteria and disease. Only viruses had the potential to knock him for six. That had to be the answer.
Well, with winter coming up and less work in the garden he did plan to take a break; not the one people imagined but taking it easier over the colder months. He was sure that would sort it out. He shook out the newspaper. His head pounded as he ordered his thoughts; this was a mind over matter issue. He was not going to give into this no matter what because if he did he had this horrible feeling he would sleep for months. No virus was going to the better of Captain Jack Harkness, he had faced worse much worse and survived.
What he couldn't understand was why this was growing worse now just as Ianto had gained some independence? Ianto now spent every Wednesday afternoon with Mac, who shut up his workshop so they could work on his motorbike. Fridays he spent with David Morgan, doing odd jobs around the place, mostly looking after the animals. He had a huge range of interests, his art had come along in strides and he had even submitted a couple of drawings of butterflies and birds for a local art competition. Ianto hadn't cared if he won; just having his work displayed was enough. Thanks to a suggestion from Tosh he had enrolled with 'The Open University' and was now studying Mathematic Tripos, starting with pure mathematics. Ianto was powering through with distinction and much enjoyment.
The local community had an extensive list of yearly events linked with the seasons; spring to winter festivals, with a few unique ones thrown in, like the mid-year Solstice and harvest festivals which had their antecedents in the pagan past. The fishing boat regatta was an eye opener to say the least and was reserved for locals only. Jack smiled at the honour of their invitation, and the wonderful day out they had had. Life here was colourful, fun, and interesting, firmly grounded in the life of the Islanders and he and Ianto were now full participants whenever possible.
Ianto was more settled emotionally and the strops and his stubbornness had faded. He handled change well as long as he was prepared. In fact he could be reasoned with, which had made life a thousand times easier. They had a social life, and friends, so it was unfathomable to why now, just when things were getting better that he should be feeling like this. He folded his newspaper and looked out at the garden. Well, who knew? Tomorrow he could wake up feeling a right as rain...talking about rain, the garden needed a water. He folded the paper and placed it so the crossword was visible. He would complete that with some pleasure later but right now the garden called. Standing he felt the room swirl and he gritted his teeth. 'Onward,' he said to himself.
Two days later
Reaching over Jack pulled out the weed that had the audacity to seed itself in his flower bed. He muttered under his breath because he knew it was an indication that he had been neglecting this necessary task. He pulled back on his knees and threw the weed to join the others. He blinked as his head pounded and when he closed his eyes he could swear the pain in his head was beating in time with his heartbeat. The effort of leaning forward made him breathless and he took a moment to steady himself.
The dizziness faded, and he risked opening his eyes and then with a struggle he stood up. Leaning down he picked up the rake and used it to smooth over the earth. He knew he was pushing it; he had woken with a blinding headache and a tight band stretched across his chest but he needed to do this if he was going to leave the house. His breathing quickened and he broke out in a cold sweat at the thought. Stepping out of the kitchen door took every ounce of mental strength he had. And once he finally managed to get himself past the threshold all he could think about was getting back here into this sanctuary. He couldn't describe the feelings of relief as he stepped onto the small lawn. All his fears and anxiety just fell away and he felt so at peace. There were no words to describe the feeling that encompassed him when he was out here; double if Ianto was pottering around with him.
He looked at his watch. Better start getting ready for their walk into the village, and he felt his heart race in his chest and he swallowed the rising feeling of nausea as he shivered involuntarily. He took a look around to calm himself. 'He could handle this; walk Ianto into the village, drop him off at Mac's, walk back and he didn't have to go out again until Friday'. He took a breath to steady himself. 'You can do this, you can handle this,' became a mantra in his mind as he used the rake to hold himself up. Wiping his hand across his forehead he felt the garden swirl and he was momentarily disorientated as his vision blacked out. He staggered and using the rake as a walking stick he made it to the French windows. Looking across the room he could see Ianto was making lunch and he smiled. He was so proud of him. He went to call out his approval when he found all the breath had been stolen from his lungs. He leant into the door frame when a sharp spasm caught him and he was filled with agony. He attempted to lift his arm in response when he felt an excruciating twisted pain punch him in the chest. He tried to speak but found it was impossible to make his lips work. He felt his body become heavy and everything went black.