Ianto awoke in the little bed tucked in the alcove under Jack's office. The ache in his body was dull, and the ache in his chest was less so. Owen was dead... mostly. Almost. He and Jack couldn't fuck away the pain of it all, but damn it, they'd tried. The night was blurry and nearly drowned in a haze of liquor. Ianto didn't remember falling asleep.

A hand-not his own-moved across his chest, and Ianto registered the warmth and heat of a body nestled next to his. He shifted slightly, stretching his legs, feeling Jack's leg slide between his thighs. Jack hummed and shifted, his grip just loose enough so that Ianto could slip away without waking him.

Ianto considered running. They'd never fallen asleep together. All the intimate parts of a relationship were still new to them, and mostly unexplored. They were barely to the point of holding hands across a table in a crowded restaurant. As much as he wanted their relationship to reach this level of closeness, he wasn't ready to have it, yet. He didn't feel hung over, so he couldn't have drank that much last night.

Ianto fumbled in the dark, searching for a watch or mobile to let him know how long he'd been down here. He didn't want to be here when Martha and the others came back. It felt wrong.

"What time is it?" Jack murmured, the movement of his lips tickling Ianto's chest.

"Don't know," Ianto answered. He gave up searching for a clock and put his arms around Jack, patting Jack's shoulder awkwardly. "Don't remember falling asleep here."

"You didn't. You passed out after the third orgasm," Jack said, his thigh pressing teasingly against Ianto's hip. "Lightweight."

The vague memory flashed back and Ianto chuckled. He remembered a pleasure so intense that he couldn't breathe. "It was an intense moment," he commented dryly.

"Lightweight," Jack teased again, shifting his weight to his elbows and kissing lightly over Ianto's cheek and lips. Jack's kisses felt different than anything Ianto had ever known. The lightest touch of skin on skin left Ianto tingling. Ianto plunged his tongue into Jack's mouth, forcing a deeper kiss, then he wrestled his way on top of Jack. Jack laughed, enjoying the game, smiling eagerly when Ianto straddled his hips. They were both completely naked under the sheets, and Ianto had a vague memory of his pants getting ripped because he hadn't wanted to take them off at first. He tried to remember if he had a clean suit in his locker, or if he'd already used that one.

"Didn't mean to crowd your bed," Ianto said distractedly, looking for a way out of the bed. He felt trapped here, and the only light came from the opening in the ceiling that led back to Jack's office. As exposed as he felt in the office, in here, it was too much like a coffin. He'd always categorically refused it for sex, and he didn't like it much for sleeping either.

"I was glad for the company," Jack said, his hands running up and down Ianto's thighs.

Ianto looked at Jack, surprised, and Jack looked back, smiling suavely. Jack was never shy about expressing sexual needs, but expressing intimacy was new. Climbing out of the alcove, Ianto circled Jack's office, finding his phone and checking the time.

"Is it morning?" Jack asked, poking his head out of the alcove, folding his arms on the lip, and resting his chin on his hands.

"Just after 4am," Ianto answered, gathering his clothes. This was most certainly the suit from his locker, and the pants were split along the inseam. The clothes he'd exchanged these for had been stained with Owen's blood.

"I should get home and change," Ianto said quietly, sitting on the floor next to Jack, letting his feet dangle over the lip into the alcove. He held his clothes in his lap, wishing there were a way to communicate without talking and dredging up painful topics... like the fact that they were just waiting for Owen to die again.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, his voice hoarse, his hand resting on top of Ianto's. Ianto turned his hand and laced his fingers with Jack's.

"I'll come right back," Ianto promised. "If you want me to. If you..."

The more he talked, the worse Jack looked. He held Jack's hand in silence, not wanting to leave his friend in pain. After a few minutes, Jack retracted his hand and dropped back into his sleep alcove, lying sprawled on his bed, staring up. He closed his watery eyes and chivalrously pretended to sleep, so Ianto wouldn't feel guilty about leaving.

Damning it all, Ianto abandoned his clothes, and slipped back into the bed. He had a sewing kit somewhere, and he could duck out later. Jack peeked one eye open, then rolled onto his side, letting Ianto spoon him. If felt warm and peaceful when their two bodies molded to fit on the small bed. Ianto's hand moved in slow, steady strokes over Jack's heart, tracing the sadness he felt there.

"Why Owen? Why couldn't he have shot me?" Jack asked, haunted by the memory. "I didn't want to let go of Martha, but I could have jumped in front."

"You've died enough for one year," Ianto said, hugging Jack tightly.

"I could have died once more... for Owen," Jack said. He shuddered and fell silent. Using the glove, forcing Owen to come back, Jack had cursed Owen with more deaths than he deserved. Ianto hoped that when his time came, Jack would let him go. Not without a fight, just without alien technology. It wasn't eternity that Jack was cursed with; it was all the little endings in between.

"You can talk if you want to," Ianto offered, keeping his hand moving over Jack's skin.

"It's hard," Jack said.

"I'll listen."

"No, I mean..." Jack laughed and rolled over, pressing his groin to Ianto's. "You're naked, and I keep picturing you in a little, red cap, and I can't brood properly with you distracting me like this."

Ianto rolled his eyes and sighed. He didn't have the energy for more sex, but he also couldn't fight the tingling in his body when Jack looked at him that way. Jack kissed Ianto's neck and chest and Ianto started feeling heat pooling in his belly. He didn't want to do this in Jack's bed, but the more Jack kissed, the less Ianto cared.

Like he could read Ianto's mind, Jack tugged Ianto's hand, and guided him out of the sleep alcove. They sat on the floor of Jack's office kissing, but both of them were too exhausted to try anything creative. After a few minutes, they paused and rested cheek to cheek, hands joined and resting on the floor between their hips.

"The floor is cold," Ianto said finally. He didn't move.

"I'd say put your pants on, but if I remember the placement of that rip correctly, it won't help you," Jack chuckled, giving Ianto's backside a playful smack. "How about this? You go home, shower, change, and think of me the entire time. And when you come back, maybe you could also bring that uniform... for a rainy day.

"Maybe I could," Ianto agreed, getting turned on by the thought.

"Little, red cap. Nice, clean-" Jack took Ianto's hand, but choked on the word gloves. Their fingers intertwined, grief warring with desire.

Ianto cradled Jack's chin and kissed passionately. "Let me surprise you," Ianto suggested. "But then, you have to surprise me, too."

"I have some ideas," Jack murmured, his lips wandering over Ianto's skin.

Ianto smiled devilishly and Jack snickered naughtily. They could do a lot of things with a little, red cap.