Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Torchwood. They just own me.
Summary: Jack thinks about Ianto.
A/N: Just a little fluff from Jack's POV.
You watch as his body moves with such grace it aligns the heavens.
He appears over the monitors in front of your eyes and you’re paralyzed.
Everyone else moves around you. The world continues to spin on its axis but you’re perfectly still.
His hands move over the coffee machine; his brow wrinkled with concentration.
You’re finding it hard to concentrate.
He doesn’t know you spend most of your day following him on camera.
He doesn’t know you spend most of your life following him.
That since that first moment you saw him; his eagerness to please you…
You can see now your life since then has just made up of a bunch of moments surrounding him.
When he’s around. When he’s not.
The way you feel with him. And without.
No one person has ever made you feel more…alive. More human.
More worth it.
You follow him with your eyes as he moves from camera to camera right up until he’s next to you; cup of hot coffee in hand for you. His eyes; blue as the oceans on the planet you came from; make a home inside you that you never realized was uninhabited.
Your fingers graze his when you take the cup from him and crimson forms on his cheeks. You eye Owen; deeply involved in the space invaders game he has been playing on the monitor for some time now. But in all honesty you don’t care who is looking. It’s Ianto that usually gets embarrassed when people see.
You move in; your bottom lip brushing his, causing your skin to tingle. He presses his chest to yours and you set down the coffee cup so that both hands can grip his small waist.
You breathe him in; eyes closed; forehead pressed to his. You can hear his heart beating hard in his chest, but then you realize it’s yours.
“Jack?” He whispers. He doesn’t understand what’s happening.
There’s so much you can say in this moment. About how you feel. About how he makes you feel. But you’re afraid it would ruin it. Make it too real. Make it able to be taken from you.
So you say nothing. You just hold onto him. Feel him.
The loud chaotic beeping breaks you from the intimate moment.
You need to be the Captain again.
You need to be the hero.
But you know later tonight, when the hub is dark and the world is safe yet again or at least for a few hours, you won’t need to be the hero. You won’t need to be the Captain.
In his arms you’ll just be Jack.