It was almost midnight in Cardiff, and Ianto Jones had just gotten off the phone with Toshiko, who had warned him that Jack might drop by. Ianto had known this, as it was Jack's custom to drop by. Tonight, however, there was an exception. Ianto had vowed to himself that no matter what Jack pulled, he would not forgive him.

Earlier that day, Ianto had been embarrassed to within an inch of his life. And it was all Jack's fault. No. No puppy dog eyes, or begging, nor pleading would make Ianto forget, or forgive.

At ten past midnight, Ianto heard the sound of his front door opening. And then the creaking of the floorboards in his living room. And then…silence.

Ianto opened his eyes carefully in the darkness of the room. If he turned his head just a bit… yes, there. He could just make out the dark outline of a coat with legs, and a head with spiky hair. The moonlight streaming in from the windows barely hit the figures boots. And if Ianto stared for too long, then the darkness began to wrap itself around Jack.

Jack took a step forward, slowly, and carefully. Almost like Ianto had seen him approach a weevil.

"Ianto," Jack whispered. Quickly, Ianto shut his eyes, pretending slumber if for only a moment more. But then Jack steps forward again, floorboards creaking. His eyes fly open. Moonlight washed over Jack, now, and his shadow fell long across the carpet. Sighing, Ianto gave up his charade to begin attempts to make Jack vacate his flat.

"Nooo–" Ianto stubbornly mumbled into his pillow, refusing to give Jack his attention.

"Ianto." Will he never leave me be?

"Ianto." This time a whisper, and without looking up, Ianto knew Jack was standing just beside his bed. He sighs again.

"No." And then proceeds to roll over, putting his back to Jack.

"Ianto." He feels a hand on his shoulder. But shrugs it off quickly. Jack would see no sympathy tonight.

"Go away, Jack."

"Are you still angry with me?" Ianto could hear the anxiousness in Jack's voice. The voice he got whenever a situation wasn't going the way he had planned.

"What do you think?"

"I said I was sorry."


"So, you should forgive me." Jack sounded as though this one reason would be enough to erase the wrong he had committed. Ianto was determined that it would not.

"After what you said? I think not."

"I said I was kidding."

"Yeah. But I wasn't."

"But-" And now, if Ianto wasn't mistaken, Jack had proceeded to let his voice sink to the level of a nine year old girl. Unacceptable, sir.

"No, Jack. You will not set foot in this bed for the next week." Ianto moved toward the far end of his bed, farther away from Jack.

"You may be a strict man, Ianto, but never cruel." Jack's tone was suddenly defensive, and accusatory. Almost cold.

"No, that's your job." Yet Ianto had him beat with an even colder response.


"No, Jack. Go back to the hub. Sleep in your own bed. Alone." Placing particular emphasis on the word alone, Ianto felt satisfied that three years with his infamous boss had finally given him the ability to bite back with witty humor, and sharp response.

"Alone?" If Ianto hadn't known better, he would think Jack might start crying.

"Yes, alone."

"But, it's cold at the hub." Yes, Captain Obvious.


"And your bed is warm."


"So, you should let me stay here with you." Internally, Ianto laughed. If Jack thought that all this would make Ianto forgive him, then, in his mother's words, Jack had another think coming.

"I said no." And he shrugged off Jack's second attempt to put his hand on Ianto's shoulder.


"No means no, Jack." Now, Ianto was getting slightly peeved. He was tired from work, already, and he didn't need this right now.


"No, Jack!" he said, forcing his words through gritted teeth. When Jack didn't reply, he opened his eyes once more, only to find that Jack had moved. And was now on his side of the bed, kneeling, his face level with Ianto's own, so that Ianto could faintly make out bright blue eyes peering at him.

"No, not even those ridiculous puppy dog eyes will get me to change my mind."

"But it's cold out!" Jack protested in anguish.

"I don't care." And enough was enough. Ianto said his retort with a bit more vigor than those previous, and then promptly stuffed his head beneath his pillow, holding down the edges with his arms.

"What if I die of frostbite? It would be all your fault!" Jack accused.

"Jack, you can't die." Ianto mumbled.

"How do you know frostbite wouldn't seriously maim me for the rest of my life?"

"Ha ha ha." Ianto retorted, clamping more to his pillow.

"Are you laughing at me?" Jack asked.


"You're laughing at me!" Jack got back to his feet in indignation.

"Yes. I am." Ianto answered, matter-of-factly.

"Why, Ianto?" Jack asked, an edge to his voice.

"To see how low you have fallen, sir." Making sure to put emphasis on the sir, so that Jack will know Ianto has reverted to calling him the boss.

"But it really is cold out!"

Ianto takes his head from beneath the pillow, and gives Jack an evil glare. "Jack. Go. Away."

"But I can't."

"Why?" Ianto asks exasperatedly.

"I've frozen in place."

"Then pry yourself loose, and get going. I'm trying to sleep." And his head hit the pillow once more.

"But-" But Ianto quickly cut him off, a question on his lips. He withdrew his head, and glared at Jack again.

"How'd you get in here in the first place? I thought I took my key back?" he knew it was a stupid question the second he had asked, as Jack gave him that famous Harkness smirk.

"Ianto. I work at Torchwood. I don't need a key."

"Whatever. Goodnight, Jack. And goodbye." And Ianto burrowed himself into his duvet, turned away from Jack, and prayed Jack would finally leave. He was still pissed enough that he didn't quite know what he was capable of doing if Jack continued to walk the very fine thread holding Ianto's verbal anger in check.

"…" Silence followed. Ianto heard Jack move in the dark. Clothing rustled, and his cheap wooden flooring creaked from beneath the carpeting his mother had insisted on having put down. But he kept his eyes glued shut.

That is until he felt the bed dip behind him.

"No. Jack! Jack, get out of my bed! But Jack, stubborn as ever, simply moved closer. Ianto felt Jack's warmth edging closer, and wished Jack hadn't made him so angry.

Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't still mad. He was sure he was. Sure he might even still be red from blushing, hours after the fact.

When he felt Jack's chest press against his back, he stuck out an elbow, catching Jack below the ribs. He used the moment this gave him to shove away from Jack, scooting farther across the bed, back to the end where he had gazed into Jack's eyes only moments ago.

"Ianto!" Jack gasped in surprise, both at the hit and that Ianto had moved away from his touch. He tried to reach for Ianto again, but was unsuccessful, his arm brushed away. "Yan, would you leave your lover-"

"Former lover!" Ianto corrected, swiveling at the waist to face him. Jack opened his mouth in protest, but instead chose to ignore Ianto's remark, dismissing it away as anger.

"Would you leave your lover out in the cold, to freeze for eternity because he can never die?" To emphasize his point, Jack pulled the duvet closer around himself; now wearing only his trousers; his coat, shirt, and shoes having quietly been discarded.

"Yes, I would." And Ianto faced away again.

"You don't really mean that, Yan–"

"Yes I-Ahhh!" Something had just brushed his leg. Something cold. Freezing cold.

"What?" Jack asked, a mixture of alarm and joy at the change of pace.

"What is that?" Ianto squirmed, but then the cold, foreign object brushed his leg again.

"What's what?" Jack tried to maintain the space he had managed to dismiss between himself and Ianto, even as Ianto squirreled away.

"That there!" And desperately, Ianto tried to point out the chilled object invading his personal space.

"What?" But Jack still wasn't understanding.

"Bloody Hell! Jack there's an alien in my bed!" Ianto finally burst loose and said the one thing he knew would get Jack on the case. He wanted the creepy, cold alien out of his bed. And of course, Jack's interest peaked.

"What? Where?" He raised himself up a bit, gazing around at the dark expanse that was Ianto's bed, but saw nothing unusual, just their own two bodies.

"Oh, no that there! That cold thing!" And finally, Jack understood. He couldn't help but laugh to himself.

"That's my foot." And Ianto could hear the grin on his lips.

"No way." Ianto turned his head a bit so as to see Jack's face. He shook his head. There was no way that was his foot.

"Yes way." And Jack wiggled his toes against the bare flesh along Ianto's leg.

"That's disgusting." But Jack didn't miss the small shiver that Ianto had when Jack's foot met his own.

"You never complained before…" And Jack proceeded, of course, to work magic with his toes again.

"Don't!" Ianto began to squirm away. Jack grinned even wider.

"Why? Afraid you'll-"

"Just don't!" And Ianto fled, to the utmost, outer edge of the bed, clinging to his blankets.

"Okay. You don't have to yell!" And Jack, realizing this wasn't helping his case, withdrew; staying put in the middle of the bed

"Sure…And you're still in my bed!" Ianto said, determined to keep his anger up.

"Oh stop fretting, Ianto. And scooch over a bit, will you. You're hogging the blankets." Jack tugged the duvet towards himself.

"They're my blankets!" And Ianto tugged them back.

"Stop screaming." Jack pulled harder.

"It's my bed! I'll do what I damn well please in it!" And Ianto gave a swift tug back.

Jack, being Jack, took this entirely the wrong way.

"Speaking of which-" And in the dark, he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Jack, don't." But Ianto, having known Jack for a while, could hear the eyebrow raise, even while he couldn't see it. He just knew.

"I was just gonna say-"

"Just don't!" And Ianto snuggled farther into the duvet.

"You're awful bossy tonight." Jack pointed out. And Ianto considered it ironic that his boss was telling him he was being bossy. If he wasn't so angry, he might have laughed.

"And you are still in my bed!"

"Oh, getting a bit snippy, are we?" Jack's voice had taken on the tone of a very effeminate gay man, girly and pitched higher than natural.

"Grr." Ianto hadn't meant for that to slip out, but it did.

"Did you just growl at me Ianto?" Jack asked, his voice normal once more. He asked in the tone someone uses when they already know the answer, but just want to be a git and ask anyways. Ianto would not give him the satisfaction of a response.


"I think you did." The bed rocked as Jack crept closer.

"Sod off, Jack."

"…" Ianto waited, in the hope that Jack would leave. But of course, it was Jack he was talking about.

"Why are you still here?"

"…" The silence was worrisome. Jack silent did not bode well.

"…" And that's when he discovered Jack's latest ploy.

"Jack." He swallowed, and opened his eyes. His hand twitched.

"Yeah?" Jack asked, wrapping himself around Ianto's still form.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting warm."

"That's disgusting." Normally, it wouldn't be, but for anger's sake, tonight he found Jack's touch vile.

"It is not." Jack tightened his hold on Ianto.

"Yes it is." And Ianto worked to free himself.

"No it's not, it's perfectly natural." And Jack just held Ianto closer, putting his face into Ianto's neck, his hot breath on Ianto's skin.

"No it isn't. Now go do it somewhere else." Ianto continued his struggle for emancipation.

"There's no one else here to do it with."

"Not someone else. Somewhere else!"

Ianto, tiring of trying to fight Jack's well-toned biceps (Damn all the running and lifting called for in their job!) conceded defeat.

"Jack. Listen to me extremely carefully," Ianto says slowly.

"…" Jack remained silent, hands caressing Ianto's white t-shirt covered chest.

"Are you listening?"


"I. Do not. Want. To snuggle. Take. Your chin. Off. My neck. And go. Home."

"No." And Jack snuggled closer.

"Yes. And get your arm away from my waist!" He reached down and snatched Jack's hand, bringing it up, and away from places beyond.

"Ianto," Jack moaned in his ear.

"You are a full grown man, Jack Harkness. And you should know better than to act like a two year old."

"But I'm cold." Jack slipped one of his legs between Ianto's.


"And it's wet outside." He began to inch his fingers down his chest once more.

"And?" Ianto was growing quite impatient. He was discovering that it is extremely hard to stay angry when aroused.

"And it's gloomy."

"So?" Ianto stopped the journey of Jack's hand once more.

"So? Do you want me to be sad, Yan?" Ianto rolled his eyes before closing them.

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?" He asked, curiously.

"You are a heartless man, Ianto Jones. Going to let me be sad and suffer all on my lonesome." And, finally, Jack released his hold and scooted away.

"I'm sure you'll survive." Jack huffed loudly.

"You wish I was dead, don't you."

Ianto's eyes flew open again, shocked at Jack's question.

"Jack, of course not!" No matter how angry he might be at him, he would never wish Jack dead.

"But you do," Jack replied simply.

"Jack," Ianto said, turning to lie on his back, "this is ridiculous."

"No, it's fact. You wish I was dead."

"No, I do not. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." And it was the truth.

"Even Owen?"

"Only when he's being a snarky git." Which wasn't exactly true, since Owen was already dead.

"But you wish I weren't here."

"Here in this room, yes. Dead, no."

"You do."

Ianto rolled another 90 degrees to face Jack, who gazed back intensely.

"No I don't." He might be angry at him, but Ianto wanted Jack to know that he did not wish him dead.

"Then I don't understand why you can't forgive me for what I said. I was only joking. And I did apologize." And they were back on that subject again.

"Jack–" Ianto started, but Jack cut across him.

"You are the love of my life, Ianto. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Ianto searched Jack's face for any sign that he was apologetic for his earlier behavior. But Jack just stared back, unfathomably. So Ianto decided that he wasn't finished expressing his inner angry self, and coolly replied:


"You don't really mean that!" Jack exclaimed. "You're just–"


"Yes?" Jack asked, turning his face toward Ianto's.

"Shut up." Ianto closed his eyes, sighing, and pulled the duvet closer around himself, finally admitting that he was not going to get Jack to leave.

"Fine. Okay! There's no need to be–" But if Jack was going to stay, then Ianto would have quiet.

"Jack! Please. Shut. Up." Ianto clenched his fists, and even his toes curled under as he issued the command to Jack.

"Humph." Jack, in dignified, crossed his arms and lay with his eyes wide open, glaring at the ceiling.




But of course, the quiet could not last long.

"Ianto?" Jack whispered, no longer offended.

"What?" Ianto forced himself to reply.

"I hate the cold and rain." Jack kept his voice at a level whisper, but to Ianto, it still meant Jack talking.

"I gathered as much." Ianto answered sarcastically, rolling his eyes beneath his closed lids.

"No. I really hate them."

"Okay." Ianto was trying to wait patiently for Jack to shut his trap. Trying.

"Aren't you going to ask why?"

"No, I don't think I will."

When Jack answered, as Ianto had known he would, he sounded sad, his voice suddenly hollow, and dreary.

"Because, when it rains I feel like there is this great sadness upon the world. A heaviness on my heart that I can't get rid of."

But, Ianto, mad as he was, did not think Jack was being serious, but was instead trying to pull yet another trick. Thus he answered with much animosity:

"Jack, I don't think you even have a heart." Only after he had said it, did Ianto think about how it sounded. How extremely awful he had just acted. His mother would have beaten him a good one if she had heard.


And apparently, Jack thought it a bit too harsh as well.

Yet the little devil Ianto in Ianto's head kept saying: Good. Good. Now he'll leave and you'll finally get to sleep.


"That hurt, Ianto," Jack whispered.


"No. I mean, that was below the belt."

"I repeat: good."

"You don't really think I'm heartless, do you?" Ianto opened one eye and peered to his side to see Jack in his moment of harsh criticism.


"Sometimes?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Like today."

"I said I was sorry!" Jack retorted. But Ianto just sighed, shutting his eye.

"If you aren't going to leave, then go to sleep, Jack. Please."

"Fine." Jack said, crossing his arms again.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."




"Do you know that I also like the rain?" Ianto threw his arms into the air, before turning onto his side, facing away from Jack, and putting his pillow back over his head. Will he never shut up?


"Aren't you going to ask why?"

Ianto sighed again, pulling his head out from beneath the pillow to answer.

"No. Because I don't care why."

Jack put his hand over his heart, as if shot.

"You wound me."

Ianto rolled his eyes, lying on his stomach, with his head cradled in his pillow on his arms, his head turned towards his Captain.

"You'll survive."

"Well, of course! I can't die. But that really is beside the point." Jack turned to face Ianto, now that he saw Ianto was actually paying attention without as much fuss. He saw it as an improvement.

"Can you make your point then, so I can sleep?"

And Jack decided to really give Ianto a blow. To the heart.

"The point is that you don't love me anymore, Yan."

And everything stilled. Jack could feel Ianto's body heat, but no movement. Jack heard his own pulse race, but nothing else. He felt confident that a pin could have dropped, and would have been heard.


"Ianto?" Jack edged closer, closing off the distance between them until only inches remained.

"I refuse to respond."

"But it's true, though, and you know it! You don't give a damn about whether I'm cold, or wet, or apologetic. And you are still hogging all the blankets." Jack gave them a vicious yank.

"They're my blankets!" And with a sharp tug, Ianto pulled them back, before settling down on his back.

"Come on, Ianto, admit it. If I died tomorrow, you could care less."

"..." And the silence set in once more. Jack wondered whether he was pushing his luck and would end up sleeping at the hub, alone, until hell froze over. Twice.




"I am not talking to you anymore." Now it was Ianto who had his arms crossed.


"Because I don't talk to people I wish were dead," he spat out bitterly.

"Oh, don't be an idiot, Yan."


"Yan." Still no reply. Jack was really worried about his sleeping arrangements now. It was looking like his old bed in his office was going to become a permanent, just like old times.


"Ianto!" Ianto even heard a slight trace of begging in Jack's plea.


"Ianto Jones!"

"Jack. Will you shut the fuck up or get out!" Ianto snarled viciously. He was getting sick of it all.

"Knew you wouldn't be angry for long." Jack replied smugly.

"Please, Jack. Shut up!" If Jack continued to toe the dangerous line that was Ianto's last nerve, then Ianto couldn't guarantee physical violence wouldn't begin.

"Fine. Okay. I won't say anything else."

"Thank you."

"..." And then the silence. Slowly, Jack crept toward Ianto. When his chest was flush against Ianto's back, Jack reached an arm around, and placed his hand on Ianto's chest.



"What, exactly, are you doing?" Ianto asked. And Jack noticed his voice had dropped an octave, almost a husky tone was now audible.


"Nothing? Your hand is inching along my chest." Jack smiled, and continued to work his hand down Ianto's chest, raking over his abs. He moved with a slow gentle ease, which he knew came across as a slow, gentle tease.

"Oh, look, it is."

"Heading up under my shirt." Indeed, it was. Jack has reached the hem of Ianto's shirt, and was now working his way back up, his hand brushing bare flesh.

"Yes it is."

"Rubbing my skin." And he could feel Ianto's goose pimples rising to his touch, a sign that every nerve ending was awake and very much aware of Jack's hand.

"Yes, it is."

"Why is your hand doing that?" Jack took his careful time rubbing his way over Ianto's abdomen, loving the silky quality of his skin; noting the softness compared to the rough texture of his calloused hands.

"I have, temporarily, lost control of the functions of my hand." And Jack demonstrated by taking his index finger, and using it to draw tiny circles over Ianto's flesh.

He heard Ianto's breath catch before continuing:

"Jack, seriously. What is your hand doing on my chest?"

"Well, you see, Ianto, my hand is cold, but your chest is warm." Slowly Jack rose, giving him use of both his hands, which he proceeded to use in shifting Ianto's shirt upwards. Still slowly. All the while he continued drawing his intimate circles.

"…" Jack felt Ianto's chest rising and falling, betraying Ianto's emotions; his positive reaction to Jack's touch.


"What?" he breathed.

"Did you hear me?"

A small gasp escaped Ianto's lips as Jack ran his finger over Ianto's collarbone, pausing in the small dip, directly below his Adam's apple.

"Yes." Ianto licked his lips, and swallowed hard. Jack was making it quite difficult to stay mad.

"Well you didn't say anything." Jack smiled his approval when Ianto jerked as Jack's fingers ghosted up his neck, stroking along his jaw line.

"That's because I agree with you." Deep breath. "My chest is quite warm."




Deep breath.


"I can feel your heart beat." Jack left his hand sitting directly over Ianto's heart, and waited, loving the feel of Ianto's pulse.

"Your hand is on my chest, Jack." Ianto choked out, failing at being sarcastic.

"It's beating very fast." And indeed it was. Jack supported himself with one arm, and kept the other on its resting place on Ianto's heart.

Deep breath.

"Thank you." Ianto whispered, this time succeeding in his sarcasm.

"For what?"

"For informing me that my heart is beating. I never would have known." And Ianto swiftly removed Jack's hand, throwing it away, and scooted farther across the bed.

"Ianto?" Jack questioned.

"What?" Ianto murmured.

"Are you still mad?"


"Yan?" Jack was flush against Ianto's back again. His hand creeping back over his shoulder, to rest on his chest.


"Are you?" Ianto sighed.


"When are you going to stop being mad?"

"I don't know." Ianto replied.

"You don't know?"

Ianto turned his head.

"Maybe when you stop making idiotic comments to our teammates about our personal sex life."

And he turned it back.

"You know I was joking-" But Ianto didn't want to hear it.

"That's the problem, Jack. You're always 'just joking'."

"It's just in my nature." Ianto rolled his eyes. Oh, the nature of Captain Jack. Ianto knew what that included.

"Meaning you will continue with your perverted sense of humor?"

"I might." Ianto sighed loudly.

"Then I don't think I will ever stop being angry."

"Oh." Jack said, crestfallen.


"Can we still make love?" Ianto opened his eyes, and whipped his head around to gaze at Jack in shock.

"Are you serious?" Jack nodded his head.




"Then no, Jack. There will be no more sex." And Jack noted the word sex, substituting for making love. To him, there was a big difference.

"Oh." Jack waited to see if Ianto would notice that his hand had reappeared to rest on his heart.






"Your heart is still racing. I can hear it thumping. Like it's running away from something. Or someone."

Ianto opened his eyes, and turned so that he was lying on his back, Jack's hand over his heart.

"Perhaps it is."

Jack moved so that his mouth was just beside Ianto's ear.

"Are you running from something, Ianto?" he whispered. His breath tickled and made Ianto shudder.

"Maybe," Ianto whispered back.


Ianto saw, briefly, an echo of the past. A metal arm, reaching out to him…Lisa

"Memories, I suppose."

"Oh." Jack moved his head, shifting to lay it upon Ianto's chest, replacing his hand.


"Now, its beating super-fast."

"That's because you're crushing me, you oaf. Now sod off. I can't handle the weight of you and your ego." Ianto pushed at Jack's head.

"Fine, then I shall remove myself and my ego."

Jack sat up, resting on his crooked arm.

"From my bed?" Jack smiled. So instead of staying away, he instead, he placed his hand at the hem of Ianto's boxers. And began moving south.


"Hey!" Ianto cried, but Jack had rendered him motionless.


"Jack, I'm still angry with you! Don't think you can get off the hook just because you have your hand – ahhh-" And now, Jack's hand, moving that way… had rendered him speechless. Jack caressed Ianto's cock, rubbing up and down, reaching to cradle his balls.

He was so focused on his art, that he wasn't expecting Ianto's move: a slap to the back of Jack's head.

"Hey! What did you do that for?" Jack cried, pulling his hand out of Ianto's shorts to nurse the tender area on his head.

"Because you were trying to fondle me!" Ianto accused.

"I was not! I have committed no such fondle!"

"Yes you did!"

"No, I did not!"

"You had your hand on my-" But Jack interrupted.

"Yeah, but only because you're warm. And it's warmest there," and Jack moved his hand past Ianto's waistband, and began his ministrations again.

"Jack…" Ianto said, warningly.

"Fine, okay. I'll move it." Jack smirked, and moved his hand again.

"You just put it on my arse instead!"

"So?" Jack's smirk widened into a full grin, and he squeezed Ianto's backside gently.

"So, that isn't helping."

"It isn't?" Jack kneaded Ianto's arse, his smile growing every time he heard Ianto's breath catch.

"No." Ianto breathed. Jack took initiative and kissed Ianto, right above where he knew Ianto's right nipple was. He kissed his way across the expanse of Ianto's chest, and stopped just over his heart.

"Oh. It isn't helping. Your heart sped up even more!" Jack announced.



"What?" Ianto snapped, more focused on the fact that Jack's hand was once again cupping his balls.

"Will you stop snapping at me? Sheesh, you need to just relax." On the word relax, Jack moved his mouth from Ianto's chest, up into the crook of his neck, and proceeded to leave his signature love bite.

Ianto jerked, pushing Jack away.

"I might be able to if you would shut your mouth and let me get to sleep."

Jack removed his hand, but kept his head lying on Ianto's chest.

"Your words are not in my advanced, fifty-first century vocabulary," Jack stated snootily, his nose high in the air.

"Oh, stop it, Jack." And Ianto gave a feeble push at Jack's head.

"Fine. I'm moving, alright. See? Safe up here, right?" Jack scooted his head up, to the crook of Ianto's neck. He heard Ianto swallow.




"Ianto, my ego isn't crushing anything, right?" Jack joked.

"Just my larynx." Ianto whispered.

"Oh, sorry." And Jack quickly pulled his head back down.

"Thank you. I can breathe again. May I sleep now?" And he closed his eyes.



"Your heart is doing it again." Jack carefully noted Ianto's racing heart. He could hear its beat, echoing in his ear.

"Can you get some new conversation material please?" Ianto retorted.


"What?" he sighed.

"Why is it doing that?"

"Not a clue."




"Goodnight Jack." And Ianto hoped to all hopes Jack would sleep. He didn't even try to move his big head.

"Goodnight Ianto."





He knew it. He knew he couldn't stay quiet no matter what.

"For the love of all that is holy, what?"

"Nothing," Jack replied, quite offended.







Ianto sighed deeply and tried his very best to remain calm.


"Are you still angry?"

"…" Instead of replying, Ianto pushed Jack's head away. Jack turned to look at him.


Ianto glared at him. His anger refreshed as he remembered Jack's words from this morning.

"You said, in front of Owen, Tosh, and Gwen, that last night was the most extraordinary sexual encounter you had ever had in your entire life. And then you proceeded to explain to Owen, once Tosh and Gwen had walked off giggling, exactly how you planned to reward me tonight. Like I was some kind of sexual plaything that was given a treat if I did a good job. You made me feel like dirt. No-wait, lower than dirt. Scum on the bottom of a Weevil's foot," Ianto cried.


"So. What do you have to say for yourself?" Ianto questioned.

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Ianto gazed at him, and Jack wondered if the saying looks could kill might actually be true. Because if it was, he was sure he had died at least seven times this evening, and was about to face another.

"Yes. I'm sorry."


"No, I really am. Honestly, Ianto, I only said it as a joke because Owen was carrying on about how he wished his boss would let him have a turn with the tea boy." Jack, having said this, realized the words that had just left his mouth, and quickly shut it. Ianto stared at him, his eyes wide in amazement.

"He said that?" Ianto asked, still slightly stunned.

"Yes he did. Still not sure if he was joking." Knowing Owen, probably not.

"Considering the fact that Owen can't have sex…" Ianto calculated aloud.

"Exactly." Jack finished his thought.

"I think he's just frustrated. Lonely." Ianto concluded.


"So, he really said that?" Ianto asked, his eyes boring into Jack's with an unusual ethereal tone to them. Jack's mind began to wonder.

"Yep- Wait, you're flattered aren't you?" Jack smiled.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You like that he thought of you!" Jack raised his eyebrows, smiling from ear to ear.

"Jack, please." Ianto gave a wave of his hand, as if to brush the topic away.

"Yes you do."

"So what if I do? It's not like I'd ever actually do anything with him!" Mentally, Ianto cringed at the thought. He wasn't exactly interested in necrophilia. "Besides, whether he admits it or not, he's hung up on Tosh. Even if he doesn't realize it yet."

"Right," Jack retorted, and Ianto didn't miss his eyeroll.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" Ianto accused, allowing himself a smile.


"Good. Considering what you said, you have no right to be."



Jack let a moment pass.

"So, you still mad?"

Ianto sighed.

"I suppose not."


Ianto turned to face him. As an afterthought, he pointed his finger in Jack's face and said:

"But, I'm warning you right now, Mr. Jack Harkness, if you ever-"

Jack grabbed Ianto's finger and lowered it back to the bed.

"I won't," he said softly.

Ianto shook his hand free, putting his finger back, shaking it at Jack's face.

"No, I mean it-"

Jack grabbed it again, rubbing his thumb over Ianto's knuckles.

"So do I," he whispered.




"You agreed to that a little too quickly," Ianto noted.

Their hands remained entwined between them on the bed.

"No, I just don't like it when you're angry at me," Jack admitted.

"So, would you agree, just to keep me happy, to getting Owen in here for a threesome?" Ianto suggested, purely to see Jack's reaction. He wasn't disappointed.

Jack immediately dropped Ianto's hand, and now it was his finger shaking in Ianto's face as he began his tirade:

"What! Don't you even think about it! No one gets to see what's under your suits but me, and if you think-"

Ianto had reached his breaking point. He desperately wanted Jack to shut up. So, he did the first thing that popped into his head. He leaned forward, and covered Jack's exclaiming mouth with his own.




"Ianto," Jack said, lying on his back.

"Jack," Ianto answered, lying next to him.

"You just kissed me."

"Yes. I believe I did," Ianto replied with a smile.


"Made you shut up for a minute, didn't it?"

"Ianto-" Jack started again.

Ianto sighed, and leaned over Jack, touching their lips together again.




"You did it again."

"Yes. How wonderfully observant of you, Jack," Ianto said, bemused.


With another heavy sigh, Ianto leaned over once more. This time, deepening the kiss, pressing to allow his tongue entry. He put one hand on Jack's chest, and trailed the other down, past the waistband of Jack's trousers. He wrapped his hand around Jack's growing erection. Then he moved his mouth from Jack's, to linger above his ear.

"Because," he whispered.

"Oh." Jack inhaled sharply.

Ianto resumed their never ending kiss, as he moved his hand, slowly, up and down Jack's cock, echoing Jack's movements from earlier that evening. He heard Jack's breathing quicken, his pulse speed up.

"So, does this mean you love me again," Jack asked, between his sharp inhales.

"I suppose." Ianto grinned, loving the effect he was having on his lover.

"Well, okay then." And Jack arched his back, pressing his straining erection closer in Ianto's hand.

"Okay," Ianto murmured into Jack's mouth.

Jack pulled away for a single moment.

"I love you, Ianto," he said.

Ianto smiled.

"I love you, too, Jack."

Nothing more was said on that particular evening, as Jack and Ianto found their mouths to be otherwise engaged.

Their hands, they soon discovered, were busy as well. Ianto used his to quickly strip Jack of his trousers and underwear. Jack's to removed Ianto's white t-shirt and boxers.

Ianto took initiative and began kissing a trail along Jack's trail of love, swirling his tongue in the dip of his bellybutton when he reached it.

Jack's head was indented into the pillow, fingers entwined in Ianto's dark hair, and Ianto pressed his mouth against Jack's cock, continuing to kiss a trail, circling Jack's shaft until he reached the tip. Ianto enjoyed the saltiness of Jack's precum against his tongue.

Jack was close. He could feel it. His brain wasn't thinking properly as all his blood flow had headed south. He only knew his body and the body above him. He took no notice of the room, or the bed, or the tangled sheets. His mind just drifted. He let his head fall back against the pillow, mouth open in a silent scream. His mind was shouting, God Ianto! More! But his lips never formed the words.

Ianto stopped when Jack's hand touched his shoulder. Ianto saw Jack shake his head. A silent plea, not yet.

Ianto nodded in understanding. He sat up, as did Jack. And while Jack reached into the bedside drawer for lubrication, Ianto watched the head of Jack's shaft. It was leaking precum, and Ianto thought it looked very much as thought it was weeping at the loss of Ianto's touch.

They made a shift. Ianto sank back, and rested his head on the pillow. And Jack sat before him.

Ianto felt the overheated air surround him, encircle him in a tight cocoon of warmth. He hungered for Jack's kiss. And was not disappointed.

Jack spread some lubrication on his fingers, before leaning forward to capture Ianto's mouth.

He felt Ianto's shaft pressing against his groin, and uttered a low, guttural noise of approval. Ianto smiled against his lips.

Jack settled himself between Ianto's open legs, and smiled at every move he made.

Ianto shuddered. Cold fingers at his entrance. Probing, searching, and finally breaching; Ianto grimaced, uncomfortable. Jack kissed away Ianto's frown, and traced the outline of Ianto's lips with his tongue. Ianto felt Jack's fingers stretching him, and he closed his arms around Jack's back, clinging to him. His lover. His life.

Ianto forgot his anger, as Jack apologized in every move he made. Gently adding a third finger, Jack deepened their current kiss. He opened his eyes to find Ianto staring back. It warmed his heart to see so much trust in those eyes.

When Jack felt he was well prepared, he withdrew his fingers, and with a quick thrust replaced them with his shaft.

He watched Ianto's eyes widen, his mouth forming a perfect O shape. Jack smiled.

Jack filled him. More than just physically, but in every way. Ianto had never felt more complete than when he was with his Captain and they shared moments like this. He gasped as jack withdrew and then plunged forward again, hitting just the right spot to drive Ianto wild.

Jack focused on simple movements. After all this was one of the most simplistic of all the possible actions man could do. It was one of the most animalistic. And Jack liked the idea of that.

He gained momentum, picking up speed while gazing at Ianto's changing facial features.

It was more than sex. Or a simple shag. When Jack made love, that's exactly what he did.

But he didn't need to here. The two already had enough to last for eternity. Jack would carry it always.

Mouths open.

Fingers dug into Jack's back, scratching a trail as Ianto moaned a tune to match.

No air. Just hot heat around them. Drowning them.

Slick burn of skin to skin contact.

Sharp breath.



Jack listening to the rhythm of their groins crashing together. A beautiful sound.

Ianto tight around him.

Jack's hand around his cock, Ianto cries for more.

They are climbing. A mountain so steep. They will never reach the top.

Jack is aching. He hears the grunts that escape his lips, followed by a scream of his own.

More. They need more.

Together, the reach. Hands closing on the brink of everything.

And finally, the climax.

They come, crashing into the abyss together. Jack with a cry to shatter glass, echoing about the room. Ianto with a shout. Jack's name on his lips. And finally, a whimper.

Jack falls, rolling to avoid crushing his lover. Ianto uses his last bit of energy to turn, allowing himself to be cradled in Jack arms. Jack wraps his arms around him, and Ianto clasps hold of them. The duvet lays forgotten; thrown to the floor.

And they breathe. Together. In sync.

One rhythm.

Ianto closes his eyes, sated beyond measure. And he thinks. I need to get angry more often.

Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.