jack/ianto
first time writing torchwood, be gentle with me :)


"You would think after a few times, it would stop hurting. Seeing you die," Ianto said softly, staring down at Jack's immobile form. As expected, the only thing to answer him was a piercing silence. It buzzed like a horde of angry bees in his ears.

Ianto closed his eyes, brushing the hair back from Jack's forehead. His skin was still warm- he seemed to be sleeping. "If only," Ianto breathed, feeling the familiar stab of agony that accompanied the thought. If only he were just sleeping, instead of laying lifeless in his arms. Instead of death.

Ianto shifted his weight, carefully repositioning Jack's head on his lap. It was taking longer this time – several bullets tot he chest does that. Sometimes the resurrection period took minutes, sometimes hours depending on the severity of the wound. It had been twenty inutes and counting. "Come on, Jack, come back to me," he pleaded softly. He leaned down awkwardly, pressing a desperate kiss to his lips.

Nothing. Ianto sighed softly, leaning back against the wall. "You know, in about ten minutes you're going to scare the bloody hell out of me. You always do when you come back." The startled gasp it the worst part. The tortured intake of air, like he can't get enough. Ianto runs his fingers through Jack's hair absently, looking down. Jack's shirt is smeared with blood from where he was shot. Is shirt is hole-filled and shredded. There's a stain on his coat. "Oh, you're not going to like that," he said, half amused, half frustrated because he knows that Jack's awful at getting out stains and Ianto will have to do it for him in the end.

There—the gasp. Ianto winces, listening as Jack starts in his arms, jerking up in shock. His eyes are wide and wild, fixing on everything and anything. He sounds like he's dying all over again. "Ianto," he stutters, hands grasping at the blue-eyes man's coat. Ianto smiles down at him a little sadly.

"Glad to have you back," he whispers as Jack's head falls back against his thigh. Jack's fingers grasp at his face, his neck, his shoulders. They settle for his hands, pulling them against his bloodied chest. His breathing begins to slow and Ianto stares down at him with a catch in his throat.

"I missed you," Ianto says quietly.

Jack's eyes focus on him with a starkness that is frankly alarming for his condition. He grins lopsidedly. "You say that every time."

Ianto leans down and kisses him hungrily. After a moment, he pulls back and smiles fondly. "I mean it everytime. Let's not try for another, deal?"

"Deal."