Jack smiled down at the Welshman, now curled up in a ball on his bed. He deliberated on whether or not to curl in with Ianto, but the idea was put to rest when a small moan came from below.
"Jack, I can practically here you saying how adorable I am." The Welshman groaned, sitting up.
"Sorry, can't help myself." Jack said, descending the ladder into the small bunker. He sat on the end of the bed, not wanting to get too close to the Welshman.
"Is something wrong sir?" Ianto's brow furrowed, his hand grazing over Jack's arm. The concern in his eyes twisted the Captain's stomach. Jack gestured over at the chair, noting the square shape under the jacket.
"I see you found my drawings." Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. A wave of guilt flowed from his lover at this.
"Yea, sorry about that, I shouldn't have been snooping." Ianto was wringing the blanket now, his fingers knotting the fabric guiltily.
"You weren't Yan, I saw what you did. There isn't anything to be guilty about. I'm the one who left them out." The Welshman slowed his fingers.
"Should I even ask at how you saw that? Or just chalk it up to another Harkness secret." The immortal flinched, the fact that he had so many secrets a sore spot for him.
"I saw you're dreams. And I'm sorry for having so many secrets Yan, if I could I'd-" An arm wrapped around his shoulder, drawing the immortal down against the Welshman's chest.
"I know that you have to have you're secrets. I know that you want to tell me everything. I know that doing that is impossible for you. " Ianto pressed a kiss in Jack's hair. "And I want you to know that it doesn't matter. What you can share is enough." The immortal let out a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding. He snuggled into his lover's T-shirt, breathing in the warmth and love radiating off of him.
"Those drawings, Ianto, they are my memories. Different things that I remember from different time's in my past. I've lived so long, everything seems to fade and blur together." Jack stood, grabbing the box from the chair, before settling back into Ianto's arms. He opened the box, drawing out a folded piece of yellowing paper, the edges crumbling slightly in his fingers. Unfolding it, the image of a beautiful young woman in a Union Jack top appeared. Her lightly shaded hair fell to her shoulders, her smile warm and endearing. She was leaning back against a railing in an unusual looking room. The walls of it sloping into the edges of the paper.
"Rose Tyler." Jack whispered slightly, much to Ianto's amazement. The captain had often spoke fondly of the Doctor and Rose, he hadn't realized how long ago that had been for him.
"I drew this after my third death. When I realized that I wouldn't be getting back to the TARDIS anytime soon, I wanted to preserve the memories that I had. This is her on the TARDIS the night I met them." Ianto had wrapped himself even tighter around his captain. Another image unfurled from the box this one much newer, the paper crisp and clean.
The Welshman pulled another drawing from the box. This one was of a beach, the sea calm, the sand undisturbed, not a cloud in the sky, yet you could see the smallest of ripples in the water, and the way that the shore sloped into the sea.
"Boeshane. I think. I sketched that one night out of the blue, and I'm pretty sure that it's Boeshane." Ianto nuzzled his face into Jack's collar. The immortal pulled out another scrap of paper.
"And this one, this I drew right after someone saved me from a Weevil." The Welshman's voice hitched in his throat, as he peered down at none other than himself. Well a highly polished version of himself in his opinion. He was leaning up against a tree, the moonlight clearly illuminating his features in a manner that made him appear to be carved out of stone. Every detail in the image was crisp and sharp, right down to the wrinkles in his flannel shirt. He ran his finger appreciatively over the image, memorizing every bump and plain of the parchment.
"Jack." He hiccupped. Speech had completely evading him. He didn't know what to say.
"That bad?" The captain asked, nervous. HE had never shone these drawings to anyone, and here he was, showing Ianto a sketch of himself.
"It's amazing. Absolutely incredible." Ianto breathed, desperately trying to find an adjective strong enough to convey his emotions. "Though you did manage to make me look far more attractive than I actually am." Jack laughed at that, the tension leaving his shoulders.
"It doesn't do you justice."
"Thank you." The Welshman murmured and Jack turned to him slightly.
"What for?" a kiss behind his ear.
"For giving me this. A piece of your past." Jack shifted in his Welshman's arms, putting the lid back on the box and setting it in the floor. He wrapped his arms around his lover's waist, palms pressed against the bed, face hovering over his lover's neck.
"Thank you for excepting it." A kiss, to the Welshman's jaw, followed by another and another, trailing down his neck to his collar. The sound of heels tapping against concrete went completely ignored, until a snort and a guffaw broke the air.