Disclaimer: The boys are not mine.
A/N: For prompt #255 at slashthedrabble, 'fear'.
"Ianto?" Jack whispered as softly as he could, wanting to wake Ianto gently. He needed to be woken. The mere sight of him was terrifying Jack: his skin was deathly pale and clammy to the touch, his fingers clutching at the bedclothes, his lips moving, murmuring fretful, anguished words that fled into oblivion before Jack could capture them.
"Ianto, please." Jack was unaware that he was pleading, his hand stroking lightly over Ianto’s taut knuckles, as if he could banish the young man’s nightmares by the sheer force of will, and protect him by the whisper of a touch alone.