Disclaimer:Torchwoodis property of the BBC and, as much as we may now resent it, was created by Russell T. Davies. If I owned any of the canon characters, I'd hope they'd be a) better treated and b) actually consistent. Now pass the Retcon ... and possibly some strong coffee ;)
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Ianto felt like ... well, he felt like he was back to square one, only with absolutely no idea where square one actually was. He knew what was there on square one with him: a new life, a new time, a new planet, new friends, new home, new perspective, new Jack - but he had absolutely no idea what to do with any of it.
He had thought, over the first few days, as he assumed he would, that it was all a dream and he'd wake up. It'd turn out he'd been accidentally inhaling some strange, alien plant pollen and he'd come 'round with Jack stood over him, laughing at him for saying silly things in his unconscious state or giggling at having had to take care of him and give him very thorough bed baths.
Every time he opened his eyes, however, it was still the same.
He'd see the ceiling above his bed in the barracks, and sigh heavily, turning off his holographic curtain and steeling himself to face his hall mates. Half of them weren't talking to him after Vegas had painted a very wrong and vivid picture of him as some kind of heartless bastard who would just waltz in and take what he wanted.
Jessica had crooned over Vegas and given Ianto a bitch-slap the first time they met. Ianto didn't really mind – he'd been hit harder – but to be honest, he didn't really care, either. Jessica was, indeed, a bitch. She was attractive and blonde and if it wasn't for her thick European accent Ianto would have thought she'd jumped out of 'Bring it On' as a stereotype of an American cheerleader.
Her friend, Rina, was Indian and absolutely beautiful. The first time he'd seen her, Ianto hadn't dared blink in case he missed a moment of being in her presence. She was quieter than Jessica, and more went along with her than made her own decisions and opinions, but that didn't stop Ianto from stumbling over his words or grinning like a loon when she spoke to him.
Freddie, the self-absorbed genius, didn't care much for anyone but himself, and kept out of the others' way. His only reaction to Ianto's 'stealing' of Jack was to toss his dark curls out of his eyes, shrug and snigger.
The last of this housemates was Till. She had fallen backwards through time only five years, so was simply waiting in the School until she could rejoin her timeline. She'd rolled her eyes whenever Vegas had tried to recount Ianto's apparent conquest to steal Jack away from him, and had eventually just turned around and told him to shut up: no one cares anymore, and they all knew he was exaggerating. The Captain would sleep with the most exotic specimen he could find, and Ianto would just as easily be replaced.
Ianto had flinched at the triumphant grin Vegas had flashed him after that final admonishment, while Ianto himself had simply shrugged.
He couldn't care less what other people thought of him. What was really important was the fact he had been at the School little more than a month, and already Jack was starting to yield a little responsibility to him. Not just responsibility for the Records Office, but responsibility for taking care of Jack, too.
They hadn't had sex yet – Ianto was making Jack earn it – but they were getting closer. Any day now, Ianto wouldn't be able to hold out, and he may end up ripping the mandarin-collared black shirt from Jack's shoulders, tear open his trousers and take him over his desk – whether or not he was in a meeting at the time. Ianto had already begun fantasising about the different ways they might have their first time again, ignoring the fact that Jack had categorically declared he would not allow himself to have feelings for Ianto. He imagined rough, spontaneous sex on desks, and he turned himself on with images of Jack making love to him. The anticipation was starting to kill him.
Every morning, Ianto would wake before his housemates and sneak to the Captain's quarters, making him a cup of steaming hot and delicious strong, black coffee to leave by Jack's pile of paperwork on his desk. Then Ianto would sort through the seemingly endless piles of records to be archived – 'From one Archive to another ....' he thought idly to himself – until Jack would wake, drink his coffee and come to say thank you with a cuddle.
The first few days, Ianto had wondered why said 'thank you' never included an advance towards sex, then realised that perhaps this Jack had gained an appreciation for simply holding another person, and taking physical pleasure and comfort from that. He would sit on the edge of Ianto's desk, his thighs spread so that he could stand between them, and put a loose arm around the back of Ianto's shoulders. Ianto would snake his arms around his waist, and Jack would drink the coffee with his free hand over his shoulder while holding him in silence. For both of them, these mornings were perfect.
Not this morning, however.
Ianto was tired, and fed up. He'd been telling himself he didn't care what the people in his barracks thought – even Jodie was starting to be a little off with him – but it was starting to get him down.
After leaving Jack's coffee and tidying some debris from the now Iantorganised desk, Ianto went to start on his day's work. As if on a timer, Jack arrived ten minutes later, smiling softly and sitting on the edge of the table, holding his arms out for his hug. Ianto stepped into the embrace, and buried his head in Jack's neck, inhaling deeply. Tears pricked behind his eyes, and he squeezed Jack tight.
"Hey ..." breathed Jack. "Ianto? What's wrong?"
"It's the people I live with," he muttered into Jack's collar. "they hate me because you're not interested in Vegas anymore."
Jack set the coffee down, and held Ianto tight. "They're petty teenagers. Do you want me to get you moved? There's an opening in a unit that came about yesterday. I can make sure you get sent there."
"I don't want your charity or favouritism." scowled Ianto.
Jack said nothing, but began rubbing his back soothingly. "They're not that bad then? What do they say?" he asked.
"Vegas has me down as this selfish wanker who just wanders in, takes what he wants, and doesn't give a shit about anyone else – and all the others believe him. Well, apart from Till, but even she doesn't talk to me that much."
"What else?"
"They mutter about me, point at me and giggle. And they call me 'old man' because I'm the eldest. They're so ... grr! ... they're so childish!" He clung to Jack a little tighter.
"That unit opening ... it's with your friend from the twenty-first century. Rhys. If you get partnered with him, it won't be that surprising."
Ianto rested his forehead on Jack's shoulder, aware that his tears had soaked through the collar of his shirt and he could probably feel the damp patch. "That'd be nice ... but ... I can't look after ... I can't look after children."
"Only one – a five year old boy. And Rhys will do most of the work anyway, what with you having the job. Besides, you said you needed someone to take care of. Now you have two."
"What about ... what about ... y'know ... us ... because I am not even attempting any semblance of romantic relationship with Rhys."
Jack laughed, and Ianto felt it rumble through his chest. "We haven't exactly got anything at the moment. And beyond physical, we're not gonna. Which reminds me: are you gonna put out soon?"
Ianto hit his back gently in mock-annoyance. "I told you: you have to earn it."
"As long as the cuddles don't stop, I hope I earn it soon." he muttered, nibbling at Ianto's earlobe.
"What happened to the woman he was with?"
"Hm?"
"Rhys. What happened to the woman he was in the unit with?"
"She ... couldn't adjust." Jack said stiffly. A heavy silence fell, and Jack suddenly seemed to relax into Ianto's embrace properly, cuddling him close and resting his chin on his shoulder. "I try, Ianto." he sighed. "I try so hard ... they ... what am I supposed to do? What more can I do? I give them their education, a place to live, somewhere to be safe where they can live with their peers but ... so few of them can cope. How can I make it better? Is there any way I can make it better?"
It was Ianto's turn to provide comfort, and he did so as best he could. "You do your best, Jack. We don't ask any more than that."
"But how can I make it better?"
"Erm ... I don't know."
"What do you hate about being here? Be honest."
"I'm so far from home. My family and friends ... well, Gwen and ... someone," - YOU - "is gone and I own practically nothing in the world."
"Give them more things? More pocket money?"
"I dunno. More ... Ohhh! I know! We're ... we're cut off from this world we're supposed to be adjusting to out here! Isolated, and we're not really supposed to stray off the grounds. Maybe if ... I dunno ... on Saturdays or something those who want to could have day trips or something?"
"Day trips?"
"Yeah – like shopping, or the cinema. Maybe, occasionally, a theme park."
"Yeah ... that ... that sounds like ... fun ..."
"And, if anyone's thinking about topping themselves, they might stop and think ' Oh! I can't top myself! I've got to go to Alton Towers on Tuesday!'"
"Alton Towers?"
"Er ... twenty-first century theme park. Roller coasters and stuff." smiled Ianto nostalgically. "What do you have now?"
"Theme parks. Roller coasters and stuff." smiled Jack, pulling back from the embrace and reaching for his coffee. He held it in both hands, Ianto still stood between his thighs, and sipped it appreciatively. "Mmmmm ...." he sighed. "Heaven in a mug."
Ianto flushed at the compliment, and Jack curled a finger under his chin. Ianto's eyes met Jack's, and his breath hitched. Carefully, Jack set the mug down again, not taking his eyes from Ianto's, and shuffled closer to him. His gaze slid purposefully down to soft, pink lips, and Ianto's tongue darted out to lick them in invitation. Jack didn't need telling twice, and Ianto melted into the arms encircling him as he kissed Jack properly for the first time in over a month – the first time in six billion years for Jack, but he wouldn't remember their perfect night, their perfect day or the Rift Storm that had torn them apart.
Regretfully they parted, and Jack stroked his hair and smiled at him, taking another sip of the coffee that Ianto could still taste on his tongue from Jack's mouth. Fingers ran over a sideburn affectionately, and Ianto felt himself blush under the scrutiny of Jack's blue eyes wandering over his face and drinking him in.
"Wanna ... find somewhere with a lock on the door?" Jack offered, still smiling.
Ianto nodded. "Let me finish this pile, and ... I'll meet you in your office?" he suggested.
"Yeah ... cool." grinned Jack as Ianto stepped away from him as he jumped down from the desk. With one last peck on the cheek, Jack took his coffee back into his office and allowed Ianto the time to calm down and compose himself.
Ianto couldn't quite understand why he was so nervous about having sex with Jack – he'd had sex with Jack possibly hundreds of times, but right now he was more nervous than he could ever remember being. He thought back to their first first time. Jack's warm, hands clutching him as he writhed and gasped, never having had sex with a man before and totally lost in the sensations of Jack inside him, hot and hard. He remembered how careful Jack had been with him, how he had kissed and caressed and stroked him all the way through, desperately trying to keep himself and Ianto quiet, knowing Toshiko was working late up in the main area ...
One of the things Ianto hated about this future more than anything else was the fact he now had competition for Jack's attentions. Ianto had walked beside him down the corridor and watched out of the corner of his eye as Jack assessed pretty much everyone he walked past, flirted unashamedly with intent and had even been caught several times making out with whomever he could lay his hands on. It hurt, obviously, but Ianto had to remind himself that this wasn't his Jack, and he wasn't ever going to even pretend to adhere to Ianto's ingrained twenty-first century values. His Jack had tried to, if only to make Ianto happy – because that Jack had always made it so clear his own happiness was linked to Ianto's happiness, and Ianto knew his Jack would have done anything for him. This Jack was concerned only with those who may sleep with him.
Though, since Ianto had arrived, he was fairly certain Jack had been saving himself for him. The thought gave Ianto hope, has had the Captain's expression when he'd stared into Ianto's eyes and traced his features with his gaze ...
Ianto blinked out of his reverie, and took a deep breath. He checked his reflection in the glass of the window, rearranged his hair a little and practiced his little wicked smile. He loved that smile – and he knew Jack did, too. Well, he would love it soon enough.
The Records Office was a little further down and on the opposite side of the hallway from Jack's office and quarters. Ianto knew that Jack lived next to his office – being so close to work was clearly a habit even six billion years hadn't been able to break. His kitchen was in an annexe from the office, and a spiral staircase lead down into the main living areas and the bedroom. Ianto had not yet gone down there, but used the coffee machine in the kitchenette every few hours or so.
Knocking and entering the office, he found Jack with his feet up on his desk and the top few buttons of that black shirt undone, exposing a little collar bone. Wordlessly he stood and took Ianto's hand, leading him through the little kitchen and down the spiral stairs. What was down there, Ianto did not expect.
Instead of the dark, almost dingy atmosphere of the bunker in the hub that had become Ianto's safe haven, there was a cosy, almost chintzy living room. The sofa was leather, much to Ianto's distaste, and he knew instantly he'd have to get a throw to put over it or at least find some large cushions. As he was lead through the room, Jack tightly squeezing his hand, he found himself desperately hoping they still had IKEA in the year six billion and whatever.
The bedroom, on the other hand, was spacious and classy. The bed must have been something like super-king size, with soft cotton covers in white with a black border shot with silver. Jack kicked off his boots, indicated Ianto should do the same, and pulled the covers back for them both to climb in. He seemed amused at Ianto's lack of hesitation, and Ianto could help but grin at him.
"Honestly, you'd think it was you who had been pushed back for over a month ..." joked Jack as Ianto shuffled closer to him under the duvet.
"I wasn't pushing you back," smirked Ianto. "I was playing hard to get." He propped his head up on his elbow, and Jack copied, running his other hand over Ianto's bicep and squeezing his arm.
"This was hard to get?" Jack asked in mock-surprise.
Ianto sniggered. "Shut it you. Withdrawal was setting in."
"Withdrawal? Just an easy body am I?"
"Aren't I?" Ianto shot back, narrowing his eyes but still amused.
Jack blinked at the question, then looked away as if he was feeling guilty. When he re-established eye contact, he was wearing his smiling mask again, and the moment was gone.
"Tell me about the twenty-first century." he demanded. "Tell me about your friends, and tell me about your last day there."
"I ... didn't have that many friends. We sort of ... lost touch." Ianto shrugged, embarrassed. "There was Gwen, who I worked with. And ... and you. And we worked underground in a secret base to protect the Earth from the alien threats of the Rift."
"Seriously?"
"Yahuh. We were a supposedly secret organisation, but everyone knew our name." he laughed. "Gwen was ... she was alright. She was sweet and kind, occasionally selfish and ... and totally hot on you ..."
Jack grinned.
"... and she was also Rhys' wife. Last time I saw her, we were all sat around her computer workstation playing Minesweeper, and I told her it was the gayest game ever because she'd set it so that instead of mines exploding when you lost, these daisies would sprout and shoot petals everywhere. And then you sent her - do you remember any of this?"
Jack shook his head. "No." He said it as if it no longer mattered to him, but Ianto knew he was hating himself for forgetting. Ianto didn't blame him at all. He felt no annoyance or hurt that he was no longer remembered, only a vague sense of happiness that he got this second chance.
"Erm ... you sent her to the supermarket, and dragged me up from the Archives and took me down to your bunker and ... erm ... we ... y'know ...?"
"I can guess ..." smirked Jack, letting his eyes drift to the pale skin of Ianto's neck. Finally Ianto managed to close the gap between their bodies, unashamedly snuggling up to Jack, holding him tight and feeling strong arms cuddling him back. A hand found its way to his hair – this Jack really did seem to like touching hi hair – and stroked his head gently and soothingly.
A thought occurred to Ianto: Jack seemed more interesting in talking than having sex. Definitelyvery different from His Jack. Raising his head a little, Ianto pressed a couple of light kisses to Jack's neck. He felt hands slide down his body, squeezing his buttocks and pushing his hips forward to get their growing erections closer together.
Ianto felt a little smug when he heard Jack's breath hitch first, and began nipping and licking at all the soft flesh he could find, starting behind the ear and working his way down. Asserting dominance, Ianto pushed him onto his back, straddling his thighs and pulling open buttons as Jack stroked his hair and arched his back beneath him. Ianto pulled off his own tie, tossing it aside carelessly – the uniform, he decreed, was not his own – before staring down at Jack and slowly opening his shirt, allowing Jack to push the material aside and slip it from his shoulders, feeling blue eyes burning trails over his chest as Jack drank him in appreciatively.
Jack tried to flip them unsuccessfully, neither of them happily submissive, but Ianto controlled himself and kept him pinned down, distracting him with a deep kiss. The Captain relaxed, Ianto let his wrists go from where he had held them tight above Jack's head, and felt hands exploring the planes of his back and squeezing his shoulders. Fingernails raked gently over his pale skin, and the resulting shiver of pleasure caused Jack to do it again, harder. In retaliation, Ianto bit down and marked his shoulder, sucking gently and feeling Jack squirm and writhe and gasp.
Impatient hands were curling around Ianto's belt buckle, and the leather strip soon found itself tossed aside. Ianto tugged Jack's shirt away, smoothly removed his belt from the loops in his tight trousers and pulled down his fly. Jack was breathing deeply, his pupils wide and black, and Ianto gave him his wicked little smile. Jack gasped and writhed as if the mere sight of it had ... done something. Ianto decided to bear that reaction in mind in the future.
They yanked off each others' trousers and underwear, and Jack pulled the covers back over them as Ianto lay between his legs, kissing and grinding. Finally he made Jack moan when he slid a finger inside him a little way, and felt a little smug with himself. It was rare he maintained control longer than Jack ...
Working his way down Jack's body with kisses, nips and licks, Ianto finally arrived at Jack's cock. His sigh of relief – totally unregistered by the Captaain – made Jack squirm and gasp, and he felt a strange sense of peacefulness, knowing that even here Jack was exactly the same. He licked his wet tongue over the head of his cock, grasping it firmly and holding down wanton hips as they bucked to get down his throat. He relented and took him all the way down, pressing his nose into Jack's stomach, feeling him writhe and hearing him cry out.
Kissing his way back up, he paid special attention to the spots that made Jack tingle and mewl, and the Captain did very little to hide his surprise at how well Ianto really did know his body. He spread his thighs further, even whimpering a little in the hope Ianto would hurry up and fuck him.
"Lube ..." growled Ianto, his voice deep and gravelled with lust.
"T-top drawer, over th-there ..." gasped Jack, still breathing heavily. Ianto leaned over him to retrieve it, and smirked when he saw the only thing in the top drawer that wasn't lubricant was a glasses case. He started squeezing a little of the gel on his fingers, sighing happily - if not a little dirtily - when he realised it was tingly lubricant. They'd had fun with this stuff back in the twenty-first century ...
"I-Ianto ..." breathed Jack. "Condom ..."
Ianto looked up in confusion. "Oh ... sorry ... we ... we never really used them anymore ..." he muttered. Jack narrowed his eyes a little, then relaxed.
"Okay ... okay ... I trust you ... I prefer it without anyway ... ah!" he gasped as a finger slid inside his body.
"I know." breathed Ianto, watching as the Captain completely gave over control and simply let Ianto do to him what he wanted. He prepared him carefully, though he probably didn't need to spend as much time on it as he did.
"For fuck's sake, Ianto!" Jack hissed. Ianto blinked. Jack wasn't usually swearing just yet. Ianto adhered to his wants anyway, slicking himself up and feeling the warm tingle of the gel on his sensitive skin. He closed his eyes, feeling it, until Jack coughed. "Still here," he reminded him, lifting his knees up to his chest in reminder. Ianto's skin would have flushed were it not already painted with arousal, and he took a deep breath before finally pushing into Jack's body.
The Captain arched and moaned loudly, breathing Ianto's name and panting heavily. Ianto realised how close he was, and gently pinched the base of his cock in case he started thinking about coming. Jack laughed weakly at the action, cut short by Ianto thrusting another inch inside him, feeling the hard flesh in his hand throb. Jack's hands scrabbled at his hair and shoulders, scratching and grabbing and squeezing as Ianto began to move in and out of him.
Even in the twenty-first century, Ianto had never seen Jack completely let go like this. Sure, he'd let go ... but he had never, ever, let Ianto see him so ... desperate? Lustful?
Words escaped his lips that Ianto didn't fully understand the first time he'd heard them - back in his own time - but now he knew what they meant perfectly, thanks to the chip lodged in his brain that translated everything. Ianto would have blushed himself to death if he'd understood even a fraction of the filth that poured from Jack's mouth back home, and it certainly explained Jack's lack of needing to swear pretty much ... ever.
Jack clawed at Ianto's wrist, pulling his hand away from his cock. "I don't need you to touch me for me to come." he growled deep, clutching both of Ianto's wrists and now allowing him them back, watching as Ianto's pace picked up frantically and came hard in between their bodies. He felt the tingle of the lube then the hot explosion of Ianto's climax, caused by his own clenching waves through his orgasm.
Ianto collapsed on top of him, panting hard, and Jack stroked his hair, reaching in the second drawer in this beside cabinet for some wipes. Without a word, Ianto took them from him, and Jack let him clean them up, carefully and methodically. They lay together in silence for a while, until Jack was sure Ianto was fast asleep. Carefully, he disentangled himself and got dressed, regretfully leaving Ianto warm and comfortable in his bed, sleeping peacefully.
Climbing the stairs and crossing the kitchen to his office he sat down heavily in his desk chair, determined to concentrate on work. After ten minutes of reading the same sentence over and over again, he thew down his pen and put his head in his hands. Rubbing his face, he sighed heavily. He opened his secure drawer and took out his little galaxy, and ran his finger gently over the messily engraved 'Ianto' on the clasp surrounding it.
He hadn't thought it entirely truthful that he and Ianto had been in love enough to create so much life - that maybe he himself had spun the story to get the attractive young man to bed with him. But after the way Ianto had just ... just done what he had done to him, and done so well, with such want and knowledge, Jack found himself believing it.
Gazing into the depths of the round stone, his galaxy - his and Ianto's child - he felt a sudden pang of fear.
Sure, he didn't remember losing Ianto the first time, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. He couldn't even imagine how much it had hurt. He wondered to himself if he had been there when it happened, or if he had been off somewhere else, doing whatever it was he did. He tried to figure out how long he might have searched, and then how long he might have remembered. The familiar way in which Ianto had just taken him had made Jack feel ... what did he feel? Safer? More secure? ... than he ever remembered feeling. He had actually trusted Ianto to top him - a pleasure he had almost forgotten - and completely and utterly let go any semblance of control in a way he was certain no one had let him before.
Jack played with the chain of the pendant, lost in thought, wondering at what his past self that Ianto had known so thoroughly was like, and if he was in any way close enough to that for Ianto to want to stay. He knew that once Ianto did get to know him, he would realise that really, he was a completely different person wearing the same body. He'd have changed beyond recognition once the facade came down.
He shook his head suddenly.
What would it matter to him if Ianto wanted to stay or not?
Jack would not indulge in having 'feelings' for him. He could not. Sure, he could wonder at it, fantasise about what it could have been like - maybe even crave it - but Jack had taken precautions years ago to ensure no one would ever be able to touch his heart. He shivered in disgust, wondering if he should tell Ianto what he had ... what he had 'done'. Would it scare him away? Probably not. Jack could already sense Ianto's fierce loyalty, and if he knew what Jack had actually done to himself ... he'd stand by and take care of him, probably would refuse to believe it, and ... and Ianto would make him regret it.
No.
He couldn't tell Ianto what he had done.
"Jack?" called Ianto from down below. Jack shut his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Up here!" he called back. "Hang on! I'm ... I'm coming back down!"
He pushed his chair back, stretched until his back popped and made his way back downstairs. Ianto was sat up in bed, his hair tousled and the covers enveloped around him, looking warm and cosy. "Working?" he asked knowingly.
"Trying to." sighed Jack, sitting on the bed in front of him and leaning back into his chest, bare arms encircling him. He inhaled the scent of Ianto on his duvet covers and smiled to himself, enjoying Ianto holding him, closing his eyes as he let himself relax. Ianto shifted slightly, getting comfortably sat so that he could hold Jack's weight, and kissed his hair. "Hmmm ..." pondered Jack, and despite his better judgement he carried on his sentence. "How about I ring the boss and see if you and I can get the day off and clearance to go into town?"
"I ... I thought you were the boss ..." frowned Ianto, and Jack laughed.
"How else do you think we're gonna get clearance?" he grinned up at him. "C'mon, get dressed. I'll show you how restaurants work now, and I'll buy you the most delicious chocolate this side of the Martyr's Minebelt." He pulled himself up off the bed, and turned and held his hand out to yank Ianto along with him. "C'mon! ... what's wrong?"
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Ianto muttered.
"Er ... why wouldn't it be?"
"It's favouritsm."
"Erm ... well ... you are my favourite ...." Jack pointed out. Ianto didn't look too impressed. The Captain sighed. "Look, if you're that worried about what your hall mates think about you ..."
"I'm not." scowled Ianto.
"... I said 'if'. If you are, then I'm going to have to force you to move into the unit. For your own good."
Ianto hugged his knees. "I don't want to move into the unit."
Jack frowned and sat back down. "Why?"
"I just ... don't think I'd be very good with the whole ... bringing up a child thing ... and ... I really would be terrible at it, Jack. And then Rhys would get annoyed, then I'll get annoyed, and then we'll start arguing before eventuall-"
"Getting a divorce and moving off planet?" smirked Jack. "Don't worry about it! I can already tell you'd be a natural. Besides, the way it works is that one of the 'parents' has a job and the other concentrates on the child. Since you already have the job, and Rhys was always stay-at-home anyway, you'll only after look after him on the evenings. And I promise you, Giacomo is one of the best behaved kids we've got here."
Ianto sighed and Jack stroked his hair comfortingly. "It's better than being shoved in the barracks and treated like a school kid. And, if in six months you don't think you can cope, you have the option to move back."
Ianto opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by an angry buzzing sound from the floor above. "What's that?" he asked as Jack leapt to his feet and began racing up the stairs, practically ignoring him, it seemed. He sat there, waiting and listening to frantic voices upstairs before hearing the office door slam shut behind the Captain.
The place suddenly went eerily quiet with his presence, and Ianto wondered if he was supposed to stay or go back to work. He lay down in the huge bed, pulling the fluffy duvets around him and relishing the knowledge he was currently lying in the most comfortable bed in the entire building. He wriggled until he got comfortable, yawned and shut his eyes. He was going to take advantage of this situation as much as possible, and right then sleep was at the forefront of his mind. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift off, lying still and so comfortable he felt like he was floating on a cloud. The only thing missing from his perfect slumber was Jack's warm body and safe presence to wrap himself around.
~*~*~*~
Jack woke him up with a grave, somber expression, gently shaking him awake, perched on the side of the bed.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked sleepily, lying back and regarding Jack carefully. Jack sighed heavily.
"There's been an accident. Three people died."
Ianto held his arms open, and the Captain leaned forward and fell into them, clinging tight as they lay together.
"What happened?" asked Ianto gently.
"The band stand in the Oriental garden collapsed."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. Three people died." he repeated. "A whole family. Both parents and their child."
Ianto squeezed him tighter, as if it might help. It seemed to, as the Captain shifted and relaxed further, almost moulding himself over Ianto's body.
"I'm sorry." muttered Ianto into his hair, kissing his head. "Were you close to them?"
"The older woman used to be my tennis partner." he laughed, though Ianto wasn't quite sure why he did. "We were friends for years."
"Here," murmured Ianto, lifting his chin to look into tear-filled eyes. "let me take care of you."
Jack swallowed, then nodded, then smiled. "Strip me naked and do what you did to me before ..." he whispered.
"If you insist." smirked Ianto.
So he did.
Three times.