Torchwood Fic: Time Enough, 8/13

[veronicaluv]

Chapter Seven

...is leaving later this evening for London. I'm sorry to see her go and not just because she's pretty (even prettier than you, Jack. Yes, I know you're still reading this, no matter where I hide it). She did remarkably well undercover and she makes Jack laugh-I know they have a history but neither of them are willing to share the details-so it would be nice to have her around for a while longer to see if I can learn more. Even Owen (still dead/alive/whatever) has gotten over his territorial issues and been civil to her. Don't know how Tosh and Gwen feel, although Gwen is all about the wedding these days. I can't say I find her taste in wedding gowns to be especially flattering. I could have told her that she's too petite for all that pleating, she'll look like a parade float-

The door guarding the entrance to the Hub opened and as Ianto looked up from his diary, he saw Martha ease her way into the tourist office, two mugs of steaming liquid in her hand. He smiled a greeting and closed the journal, setting it aside as he rose to his feet and took the mug she held toward him.

"Ready to go?" he asked. He looked at the clock on the wall and frowned. "Surely it's too early."

"I have some time so I thought I'd hang out here for a bit," she agreed. She looked around the shabby room, her mug cradled between her palms. "This is cosy."

"Well, we don't want it to look too prosperous." Ianto pushed his stool toward the end of the counter and stepped into the private room behind the curtain to pull out another. "The locals stay away because they think it's a front for organised crime," he added as they sat down, "and we direct any actual tourists to the mall. The Americans always seem very relieved."

Martha laughed politely and took a sip of tea. She seemed distracted and Ianto waited, wondering what had caused her to leave Jack and the others to seek him out upstairs.

"Ianto," she said eventually, "I think I may have spoken out of turn and I wanted to give you some warning, just in case Jack says something."

"Spoken out of turn?" he repeated. He paused to blow on his tea. "Not sure what you mean."

Martha sighed and gazed into the depths of her mug. "Do you remember our conversation, when I asked if you and Jack were..." She twirled her hand, her mouth quirking upward in a shy, hesitant grin.

"Of course."

"Well, just now, I sort of brought up the subject with Jack again, teasing him, you know? He's rather like a big brother to me, he needs to be teased."

"Ah," Ianto nodded, "let me guess. He latched onto the 'innovative' part and embarrassed you with some improbable story."

"Oh, no," she said earnestly, setting aside the mug, "that wasn't it at all. In fact, the conversation never got that far."

"Then I don't understand. I can't believe he was the one who was embarrassed-"

"I think his feelings were hurt."

Ianto stared at her. "Why?"

Martha lifted the mug to her lips before setting it back down without taking a sip. She looked uncertain and unhappy, and Ianto began to worry that Martha had learned more than she was comfortable knowing.

"Go on," he urged gently.

"It was the dabbling thing," Martha said in a rush. "I told him that you said you and he 'dabbled' and I swear, Ianto, it looked as though I'd kicked him in the stomach."

"Are you sure that was-"

"Yes," she said miserably, "he even asked me to repeat it. Then he got this sort of sad look and turned away for a minute. When he looked back at me he was smiling again, but it wasn't a real Jack smile, if you know what I mean. It wasn't in-"

"His eyes," Ianto finished, his heart sinking. "Yes, I know that smile. It's rather like the sun going behind a cloud, isn't it? Makes you shiver even when you're not cold."

"It does." Martha shook her head. "But it gets worse. When I saw how upset he was I did all sorts of backtracking, trying to convince him that I'd taken your words out of context and that I was sure you didn't mean it."

Ianto cleared his throat, feeling even more uneasy. "Mean what?"

"You know." Biting her lower lip, Martha hesitated. "How you didn't truly believe that was all there was between you. I mean-it's not, is it?"

Ianto looked down at his mug of cooling tea, wishing he had something strong to add to it. In the months that had passed since Ianto's ill-conceived attempt to invite Jack to live with him, he'd been trying to come around to the belief that what he had with Jack wasn't much more than the dabbling he'd confessed to Martha. It was safer that way, to appreciate what they shared privately and not look for more, even when some days he wasn't sure that Jack was satisfied with what they had, either. Once bitten, twice shy, was Ianto's motto, but in the tradition of Torchwood, first bites were usually fatal.

"Dabbling may not have been the most auspicious choice of words," he said slowly. "What I have-what Jack and I share is complicated and not really something I'm used to discussing with people, especially someone I'd only just met. I'm sorry if I misled you into believing that I don't care for Jack because I do, very much."

Martha frowned at him. "You 'care' for him? Poor Jack, no wonder he's confused."

"I'm sorry?"

Martha covered Ianto's hand with her own. "If you don't mind a little sisterly advice, I think you may want to be honest with Jack about how you feel about him sooner rather than later, although truthfully I think it's already too late."

"Too late for what?"

"Look, I know I'm a little protective where Jack is concerned and I don't want to see his heart broken if I can help it. He's had enough heartbreak to last a thousand lifetimes and you don't strike me as someone who'd willingly add to that."

"I don't-I didn't think-" Ianto stuttered, "I'm sure that Jack doesn't think of me-of us-in those terms."

"I hate it when Mum's right." Martha raised her eyes to the ceiling, searching for patience. "Boys really can be so stupid sometimes," she muttered. "All right," she continued briskly, "then you're just going to have to trust me. I'm in a bit of a unique position to judge what is good for Jack and from what I've seen, that may be you, but only if you're honest with him. But be gentle, because I think he's a little scared of you."

Ianto tugged at the hand holding his own captive. "That's not true."

"Is it? He watches you all the time, you're the first person he looks for when he walks into a room, he plays to you madly-and you're hardly any better. You hold all this power over each other and you don't even know it."

"Even if what you say is true, it doesn't mean that Jack has any reason to be scared of me."

"It does if it means you'll hurt him. There's no greater power in the world than the power we give freely to those we love. All I'm asking is that you keep that in mind and if there is more between you than dabbling or whatever you want to call it, you need to let Jack know and put him out of his misery. Can you promise me that much?'

Ianto nodded as Martha patted his hand and slid off her stool. "My ride will be here soon so I'd better gather my things and start saying my goodbyes. I hope you don't think I've intruded into your personal life too much but sometimes it's helpful to hear these things from a third party."

"I think that you're a good friend." Ianto got to his feet. "And I'm guessing a formidable enemy as well, but I'm going to try and avoid finding that out for myself."

Martha nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Good, because I'd like to avoid having to kick your arse when I come back for the wedding."

Ianto held open the door leading back down to the Hub. "As would I," he agreed fervently as she proceeded him into the stairwell, receiving a quick wink in return.

It was a lot to think about, especially after spending so many weeks convincing himself that he was content. It also felt strange to have an advocate-or in Martha's terms, an older sister-when Gwen, Toshiko and Owen preferred to ignore the situation altogether. He couldn't remember a time when someone took a friendly interest in his life and the sensation was unsettling and a little bittersweet. But other than wanting to protect Jack, Martha had no ulterior motives and even as she'd said her farewells had managed to slip in another piece of advice when Ianto had kissed her cheek.

"He's worth it," she'd whispered in his ear, emphasising her point with a squeeze of his arm. He'd glanced past her to see Jack watching them, his expression open and relaxed. Whatever reaction he'd had to Martha's inadvertent revelations, he wasn't ready to share it with Ianto.

Ianto figured out soon enough that Martha, for all her good intentions, was wrong. Over the course of the next few weeks, Ianto began to notice Jack moving away from him emotionally. On the nights they spent in Ianto's house he'd never stay more than a few hours, sliding out of bed before Ianto was properly asleep, leaving him half awake and empty inside. Weevil hunts, once something that he and Jack shared almost exclusively, were now team exercises with the exception of Owen, who was irritated to be told he was too fragile to join in and too upsetting for the weevils besides. The surreptitious touches became less imaginative and more conventional, the give and take banter less fulfilling, the quiet glances across tables and monitors almost non-existent. As Gwen's wedding approached, it became more and more clear that Jack was actually growing tired of him, making Ianto acutely grateful he hadn't made a fool of himself and professed his own feelings to Jack and embarrassed them both. Ianto told himself it was fine, it was natural, it had to happen, it was better for them both. No strings, no complications, no expectations.

~~

Being a Torchwood wedding, it didn't go smoothly. Ianto was well-acquainted with the history of all the previous Torchwood employees and had researched their lives, finding quite a few references to marriages and in rare cases, even children. But when he'd tried to get Jack to talk about those previous weddings, many of which Jack had attended, Jack's eyes had slid away as he'd come up with some excuse to change the subject. Something about the upcoming nuptials was making Jack uncomfortable and Ianto assumed it was watching Gwen waltz forever out of his reach. He and Gwen had been snapping at each other off and on since Christmas, Jack with snide comments about respectable Cardiff matrons in sensible shoes and Gwen's replies usually along the line of Jack being a sad son of a bitch who was too stubborn, proud, or stupid (depending on her mood) to step up and ask for what he wanted. Ianto had accidentally walked in on one of their slanging sessions and had tried to back out of the room gracefully, unprepared for Gwen to grab his arm and drag him the rest of the way into Jack's office.

"Leave him out of this," Jack had growled.

"Yes, please," Ianto muttered, tugging against the tight grip Gwen had above his elbow.

"Little late for that, isn't it, Jack?" Gwen had squared off between them, releasing Ianto and settling her fists on her hips. "Or maybe it's finally the right time."

Ianto pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "I've got something on the boil, maybe I should-"

"Tell him, Jack."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. "Martha sent an email. She can't make it to the wedding."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Ianto took a step backward, "Now, if that's all, it's past Janet's feeding time-"

"Tell him what else she said," Gwen had demanded.

"Gwen," Jack ground out, a clear warning that the argument was escalating again, "that wasn't for your eyes!"

"Really, I think I left the water running in the sink, so I'd better-"

"See? Just like I said. You're a coward, Jack Harkness."

"And you're sticking that pert little nose of yours into business that doesn't concern you!"

Bitterly aware of undercurrents between Jack and Gwen that he had no interest in travelling, Ianto had been deeply grateful when Tosh had wandered in, head down and nose buried in a newly acquired piece of alien tech. Oblivious to the little drama, she retrieved a tool from Jack's desk and had meandered back out of the office, muttering to herself and unknowingly breaking the tension. Ianto had used the diversion to slip out with her, but not before he'd caught a glimpse of the desolation in Jack's eyes as he'd turned on Gwen for another round.

That had been only a week before the wedding and somehow, Jack and Gwen had managed to patch together their friendship in time for her to be able to focus on her wedding day. An alien-impregnated bride, a best man named Banana Boat and quite possibly the ugliest bridesmaids' gowns ever conceived had made for a difficult situation, but Ianto withstood it all without blinking an eye. Up until the reception, Ianto had expected that one solid round of retcon and some quickly confiscated cameras would be the only things that stood in the way of demonstrating to Jack the intricate pleasure of a well-measured inseam, but it hadn't worked out that way.

And it was all because of a dance.

Even from his impromptu duty at the DJ's table, Ianto could see that whatever hostility that had festered between Jack and Gwen was completely gone. There was an intimacy between them now that had been missing since Jack's return months earlier, an almost perceptible heat that couldn't be denied, not even on her wedding day, and in witnessing it, Ianto felt that he finally understood his place in Jack's world.

And despite knowing that it would tear him apart, he chose to reject it.

From that understanding, it was easy to step in and dance with Jack, to hold him close just one last time, regardless of audience or circumstance. He was fully aware that Jack had watched Gwen walk away even as he'd taken Ianto into his arms, could see Toshiko and Owen staring at them from across the room. He knew he had a long night of work ahead of him but it didn't matter. He was numb, inside and out, focussed solely on his job and unwilling to deal with the realities lurking in the shadows of his life.

It was okay, he told himself later, pulling out a body bag for the unfortunate Mervin from the back of the SUV. He would survive this. The wedding guests wouldn't remember a thing and Gwen and Rhys were on their way to their honeymoon. All was as it should be, except for the blank space where Ianto's heart used to live, but by the time he crawled into bed a few minutes after midnight, he was too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to care either way.

~~

His body recognized the presence of someone in his bed before his sleep-heavy brain could process the information. He knew there was no cause for alarm, the weight and scent of the body beside him as familiar to him as his own. He curled into that welcoming heat, smiling as strong arms came around him and pulled him close, his head nestling easily between firm shoulder and strong jaw. Fingers combed through his hair and stroked across his cheek as he drifted back toward sleep, sinking trustingly into the comfort and security that Jack's presence always gave him.

Jack.

Ianto's eyes snapped open and he struggled upward, fighting the arms that seemed reluctant to let him go. He twisted on the bed, the comforter sliding off his bare torso and pooling around his flannel-clad hips as he peered down to where Jack lay fully clothed beside him on top of the duvet.

"Jack? What?" Ianto ran distracted hands over his face and into his hair, disoriented by Jack's silent presence. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jack whispered.

"What are you doing here?"

Jack rolled onto one elbow and rested his hand on Ianto's thigh. "I needed to ask you something."

Jack's voice was broken and hoarse, as though it hadn't been used recently. It was too dark for Ianto to see much beyond the charcoal outline of Jack's face against the pale blue bed linens, the room too shadowed to see the expression in his eyes. Ianto took the hand setting on his leg in his, wondering what could have driven Jack to his side in the middle of the night, yet unsurprised that he was taking an uninvited Jack in his bed in stride. His earlier decision to back away from their personal relationship hadn't changed his feelings and even now, if Jack needed him to crawl through hell on broken glass, his only concern would be for the damage his suit trousers would suffer.

"Then ask," he said quietly. "I'm listening."

"Have I lost you?"

Four simple words imbued with such heartache. Ianto blinked and slowly shook his head, wishing he was more awake. Jack couldn't lose him, except through death, and maybe not even then. Why didn't he know that?

"Answer me."

The ragged edge to Jack's voice deepened and Ianto's brows drew together in concern. Jack remained still, his fingers clenched around Ianto's, as Ianto rubbed the back of his free hand over his eyes, trying make sense of Jack's question. He'd thought he'd seen Jack in every mood possible, but he hardly recognized the quiet, wounded man beside him. If it had been anyone else other than Jack, Ianto would have suspected he was drunk, but there was no odour of alcohol, just Jack's indefinable, natural scent.

"You haven't," Ianto said firmly, tossing away the question as irrelevant. "Are you all right?"

"Haven't I?" Jack sat up as his thumb began a slow, circular caress across Ianto's knuckles. "Are you sure?"

Jack's fingers feathered over Ianto's inner wrist, the whisper of sensation against the soft surface of his arm making Ianto swallow against a traitorous surge of desire. He opened his mouth to ask again what was bothering Jack, but Jack continued.

"What did I do, to finally drive you away?" Those questing fingers ghosted over Ianto's upper arm, short fingernails scratching lightly at cool skin, raising goosebumps in their wake.

"Nothing," Ianto lied. The look in Jack's eyes-and Gwen's-as they'd danced together had only confirmed what Ianto had suspected, but Jack didn't know that. Wouldn't know that until the playful suggestions were brushed off, the teasing, lusty offers gently rebuffed.

At least that had been the plan, until Jack had invited himself into Ianto's bed, driven by his own demons to knock down Ianto's imperfectly constructed walls. Now the plan was in danger of being tossed aside before it had ever seen the light of day, but then maybe Ianto had known that all along, too.

Jack curled his leg beneath him to mirror Ianto's position on the bed. He never broke contact with Ianto as he skated one finger along the curve of Ianto's collar bone before drawing a line down the centre of his chest. Wide-eyed, barely breathing with the effort to remain quiet, Ianto watched as Jack leaned closer to him and despite his earlier decision, in that moment he wanted Jack's mouth on him more than he could remember wanting anything. He closed his eyes and waited, sweet anticipation for the touch he craved beyond all others trapping the air in his lungs.

Instead, he felt a warm breath exhaled against his ear. Words so soft, almost absent of substance, drifted over his skin. "Will you leave me, Ianto?"

"Never." That, at least, was the truth. Leaving Jack had never been part of the quickly fading plan. Eyes still closed, Ianto swayed beneath Jack's touch, dizzy with the sensations that only Jack could draw out of him. Jack's fingertips skimmed along the underside of his jaw before both hands rose to caress his cheekbones and the delicate skin behind his ears. Swallowing hard, Ianto opened his eyes and made an effort to concentrate on what Jack had been trying to tell him. He lifted his hand to Jack's face and jerked it back in surprise, shaken at what he found there.

"Your face is wet."

"Is it?" Jack slipped a palm over his own cheek, then looked down with surprise at the dampness gathered there. "Guess so," he said with a slight laugh.

Ianto reached forward and ran his hand over Jack's forehead and through his hair, trying to offer comfort. "Why?" he whispered. "What's wrong?"

Jack raised his eyes to Ianto's and even in the dim light, Ianto could see the emptiness there despite the slight smile that lingered on his lips.

"You left me," he said simply.

And suddenly, Ianto thought he understood. Gwen now belonged to another, and Jack had a streak of melancholy in him a mile across. Earlier that night, Ianto had observed Jack sitting at his desk, sifting through pictures, so engrossed he didn't even acknowledge Ianto's silent presence. No doubt memories coupled with the loss of Gwen had sent Jack into a broody tailspin and he'd needed to seek out some reassurance.

"No, no," he breathed. He cupped Jack's face between his palms and touched his lips to Jack's in a soft caress. "I'm right here," he said against Jack's cheek. "I'll always be here."

Jack grabbed Ianto's upper arms. "No," he hissed, "you don't get it." He wrapped his hands around Ianto's neck and yanked him close to press a fierce, open-mouthed kiss to his mouth, tongue sweeping in arrogantly, drawing a startled moan from Ianto's chest.

"I know I have this," Jack growled against Ianto's brow. Startled, Ianto struggled against the instinct to resist, drawing in air to keep his muscles relaxed as his concern for Jack overrode his need to understand. Jack's hands had never been anything but gentle on him after Lisa, anything approaching aggression expressed as passion, not desperation. This touch was unusually angry and possessive, evidence of some strong emotion barely leashed. The rough embrace lingered until Jack shoved Ianto away, one hand still gripping his arm and keeping him close as he used his other hand to thump his fist on the warm, bare skin over Ianto's heart. "This is what I'm talking about. But it's not the same for you, is it?"

Jack abruptly dropped his gaze, breath hitching as he struggled for composure. He released Ianto and rubbed his hands on his thighs, shaking his head as if to clear it. Ianto reached out a trembling hand, then pulled it back, unsure that his touch would be welcomed.

"I'm sorry," Jack mumbled. "I shouldn't have come." He raised his eyes to Ianto's. "This is conduct unbecoming a officer. I'd better leave before I really embarrass myself."

His voice trailed away as they stared at each other. Ianto swallowed and took one of Jack's hands in his own. "You have to talk to me, Jack."

Jack slid his free hand over Ianto's shoulder and around his neck, bringing their mouths together in a gentle kiss of farewell before slipping free of Ianto's hold and sliding off the bed. He turned to leave, taking two long strides before Ianto spoke up.

"Wait."

Jack paused and squared his shoulders, keeping his back to Ianto. Ianto licked his dry lips and climbed off the bed, determined to find the root of Jack's anguish. He thought frantically over the past few weeks, trying to pinpoint that moment in time that Jack had changed toward him. The only thing that made sense was the night Martha had left, when she'd inadvertently revealed Ianto's downplayed description of his feelings about Jack. Despite Martha's advice, Ianto had never actually believed that it had mattered to Jack one way or the other, but now he was beginning to see that his own decisions to keep Jack only so close had confused things even further.

A phrase floated through his mind, something Jack had said once during a conversation with the entire team after a particularly brutal job. It'd been late, they were all exhausted, and Owen in particular had been vocal about the never-ending thanklessness of their work. Someone had to be a hero, Jack had reminded them as they'd struggled to remove sticky yellow scales of yet another imploding alien from their clothing. No one had appreciated the remark at the time, least of all Ianto, who'd faced the prospect of all that laundry with decidedly ill will.

But staring now at Jack's ramrod straight posture, he realised he'd been waiting for Jack to make his feelings known without any clear indication from Ianto as to how they'd be received, much the same as Ianto had. Both men were too afraid of rejection in this most uncertain of worlds, too terrified of the prospect of having something so precious yanked away, and it had brought them to this.

And Jack, the bravest man Ianto would ever know, was clearly terrified. It was definitely time for a hero, the only question being who was going to be the first to take that leap of faith.

Tired of working in the dark, Ianto turned on the lamp beside his bed, throwing the room into soft, golden-edged shadows. "Jack, did you want me to stay with you tonight? After the wedding, at the Hub?"

"Yes." It was hardly more than a sigh.

"Why?"

Jack's shoulders twitched in a half-hearted shrug. "I was lonely. Sad. Seeing Gwen married..."

His voice trailed off and Ianto bit his lip against a stab of pain. "I'm sorry, Jack. I know she means a lot to you."

Jack nodded. "She does. That's why I'm so glad she has Rhys. She deserves someone who'll make her happy."

"Well," Ianto blinked furiously against stinging eyes, "I'm sure she loves you, too. If you'd been able-"

Jack slashed the air with his hand and turned around, head high and jaw set. "Doesn't make any difference whose wedding it is. Really not my favourite event to attend, even under the best of circumstances, like this one."

Ianto frowned. "You don't like any weddings? It wasn't just Gwen's?"

Jack's lips twisted in a wry smile. "In comparison, this one was pretty fun, even with the uninvited guests and ugliest hats this side of Ascot. But weddings, especially the wedding of a good friend-they bring back a lot of memories. Pretty women in wedding gowns-" he shook his head, eyes downcast, "so, you know me, I start reminiscing, then I get all weepy and the next thing you know, I'm thinking the only one in the whole world I want to be with just left without saying goodbye."

Ianto was reeling. This wasn't about Jack's feeling toward Gwen's marriage and that realisation left him light-headed with shock. Caught up in his own misery, he'd missed the true reason for Jack's withdrawal and had nearly lost everything by walking away when Jack had needed him.

"I would have stayed if I'd known. You just seemed like you wanted to be alone."

"Maybe, for a while." Jack's smile turned wistful. "But mostly I just wanted to talk to you."

"Why didn't you say so?"

"That's something else I realised tonight. I finally figured out that I was asking too much of you."

"Too much?"

"Too much to ask you to be that person." The broad shoulders slumped and Ianto could see the resignation in the muted gleam of Jack's eyes. "You probably don't want to hear this, but when when I need comfort, it's you that I want it from. I want you to be proud of me and-and laugh with me, hold me when I'm scared and lay down beside me every night. You are that person for me, Ianto. And, I'm so sorry," he took a step toward Ianto, hands spread, "but I want to be that person for you, too."

Ianto took an involuntary step backward, his bare feet skidding on the hardwood floor. Leave it to Jack to once again throw Ianto completely off balance with a declaration that spoke directly to Ianto's every fear and desire about their relationship. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, letting Jack's words sink into every inch of his skin, then reopened them with a faint smile.

"All right," he said, his voice cracking. He rolled his eyes at his own faint-heartedness and cleared his throat before starting again. "All right, I have a feeling this isn't the first time I'm going to say this, but I love you, Jack. And you're an idiot."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Love me?" He edged closer to Ianto, his body angled toward the stairs as if poised to escape. "Not just the terribly fond of me, love me as friend, it's not you, it's me kind of love, right?"

Ianto's expression softened at the raw desire to believe blazing from Jack's eyes. "No, I love you as in I love you. Full stop. But don't forget the idiot part."

A frown appeared between Jack's eyes, even as he took another step closer. "And I'm an idiot why?"

It was an effort to keep both his distance and a straight face. Ianto didn't think he'd ever loved Jack as much as he did in that moment, a tiny passage of time balanced between breathless hope and joyful acceptance, that shimmered in the cool air around them. Jack's eyes were wide, his head lowered and hands curled into loose fists, every line of his body anticipating Ianto's next words.

"How did you get in here tonight?"

It obviously wasn't what Jack was expecting and he straightened in surprise. "Uh, you gave me a key, remember?"

"I looked for that everywhere, even your best hiding spots. Where did you keep it?"

Jack snapped open his wrist strap and wordlessly held out his arm. Tucked inside a small flap in the underside of the cover, Ianto could see the dull brass tip of the house key he'd given Jack. He looked up with disbelieving eyes.

"You kept it in there all this time?"

Jack nodded, snapping the lid closed with a flick of his wrist. "It's the only thing you've ever given me," he said in a tone of apology. "I like keeping it close."

"Jack," Ianto bit his lip as a laugh fought its way to the surface, "in this culture, when someone gives you a key to their home, it generally means they'd like you to live there. With them. Quite possibly at the same time."

"I knew that," Jack pouted in confusion. "Of course I knew that."

"For a former con man, you're a terrible liar. Were you very successful?"

Jack's eyes narrowed as he closed the distance between them until they were only inches apart. "First I was an idiot," he said with a silky purr, "then a liar, and now I'm a lousy con artist?"

Ianto swallowed but held his ground when Jack slid his palms on Ianto's hips, fingers gliding just above the drawstring waistband of his pyjamas. "I think that sums it up nicely."

"Let's get back to the I love you part." Jack leaned forward, his eyes caressing Ianto's mouth. "Because the direction this conversation is taking is not working in my favour."

"Well, I don't know," Ianto murmured. Jack's proximity was seducing his senses, making his body ache for the touch he thought he'd have to live without. Calloused thumbs slipped beneath his waistband to swirl slowly over his hip bones as warm breath ghosted over the flushed skin of his cheeks, making it difficult to think clearly. "What are your good qualities?"

Jack's soft laugh sent a quiver down Ianto's spine. "I'm dashing."

"Taken as read," Ianto replied. He slipped a finger along the inside of one of Jack's braces, relishing the swift hiss in his ear when his knuckle brushed a nipple. "But dashing isn't exactly a marketable skill."

"I'm a great dancer."

"So I've seen. However, I'm not. Can't carry a tune, either, so no karaoke duets."

"Hmm." Jack released his hold on Ianto's hips and folded him into his arms, tipping them so that Ianto had to look up into Jack's eyes. Ianto watched as the flirty, confident grin faded, replaced by something far more compelling. "I have fabulous taste in lovers."

Ianto felt his cheeks burn hotter. "Flattering, but not exactly a rousing endorsement at this particular moment."

"Then how about this." Jack skimmed his mouth along Ianto's jaw, dropping his voice to an intimate whisper. "Given the choice between you and all the wonders of the universe, I chose you."

Ianto slid his arms around Jack's shoulders, settling into the curve of Jack's body. "You said you came back for all of us-"

"No, no, Ianto Jones. I may have decided to return to Torchwood, but I was always coming back for you."

The staggering reality that Jack was stating nothing less than a fact made Ianto's breath stutter in his chest. "God, Jack-"

"Shh, I know." That beautiful, beloved mouth curved up in a smile. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Jack lowered his head, finding Ianto's lips for a searching kiss that brought unwanted moisture to Ianto's eyes. It gathered at the corner of his lashes and Jack licked it away, murmuring soft, happy, unintelligible words as he moved on to nuzzle a kiss beneath Ianto's ear. Ianto dipped his head and recaptured Jack's mouth, shuddering as he felt Jack's fingers trace down his belly to tug at the drawstrings of his pyjamas.

"You are planning on staying the night," Ianto murmured against Jack's mouth. In response, Jack slid his hands beneath the fabric of the loosened pyjamas and over Ianto's hips, guiding the thin fabric down Ianto's thighs until it fell the rest of the way on its own to settle in folds around his ankles. "Can I assume that is a yes?" he added breathlessly.

"Oh, you wanted an answer? Hell, yes, I'm staying." He kissed Ianto hard, palms coursing over the downy surface of Ianto's lower back, guiding Ianto's body against his fully clothed form as both men gasped at the unexpectedly erotic sensation.

Ianto kicked away the pyjamas and climbed onto the bed, rising to his knees and holding out his hand in invitation. Jack took it and tucked a kiss into his palm, then leaned down to exchange a lazy kiss as he slipped his braces off his shoulders. Ianto began working on shirt buttons but quickly lost his place as Jack's hands and lips began a full-on assault of Ianto's senses. Jack kept a firm grip on Ianto's hips as he began working a love bite on the tender skin of Ianto's throat, groaning in protest when Ianto pulled away.

"Jack." Ianto took a steadying breath gathered Jack's wandering hands, clasping them between his own. "This will be easier if you stop distracting me."

Jack ignored him, leaning over their joined hands to steal another kiss. "I like distracting you," he said with a soft laugh. "That's half the fun."

Sensing stronger tactics were needed, Ianto released Jack's hand to brush the back of his fingers along the zip of Jack's trousers. The gratifyingly sharp intake of breath was evidence enough that his strategy was working.

Suitably inspired, Jack swiftly removed his clothing and joined Ianto on the bed, their coming together turning from the easy arousal that was always between them to a celebration of what they were becoming to each other. That heart stopping realisation tempered the sharpness of their desire and they chose to make love slowly, thankfully, losing themselves in exquisite sensation and the terrifying depths of uncharted love.

~~

"So glad I didn't lose you." Jack dropped a kiss on Ianto's forehead and shifted until Ianto was wrapped more securely in his embrace.

Ianto blinked sleepily, his lashes tickling the velvet-soft skin of Jack's chest. "Actually-what time is it?"

"I don't know, about four-thirty, I guess. Why?"

Ianto counted backward to the hour that he'd seen Jack and Gwen dancing, to that dark moment when he thought he'd witnessed the death of a fiercely protected dream. Eight hours, give or take. He'd held out for eight whole hours.

"Never mind."

He was just on the sweet edge of sleep when Jack spoke up once more.

"Hey, can we get a dog?"

"You already have Myfanwy." Ianto yawned and gave Jack's belly a clumsy pat. "And Owen. Isn't that enough?"

"I want a golden retriever and you offer me a dinosaur and a dead man." Jack chuckled and kissed the top of Ianto's head. "This domesticity thing is going to be interesting."

Next

Also available in its entirety here: Time Enough