Janto, Not this time by Broken-Mushroom, literature
Literature
Janto, Not this time
Slowly, so achingly slowly Jack felt the darkness fading in on him, until that's all there was. No more Thames House, no more 456, no more poisonous air.
No more Ianto.
Jack curled up in the darkness and shook his head violently as he felt the normal fear and despair that always set in when he was in this place. This time it was increased ten fold. Usually, he would just wait in silence, hoping that whatever was out there in the darkness wouldn't notice him.
But not this time.
He screamed. He shouted and flailed around. Yelling out into the nothingness. Howling out his loss.
The worst part was that he had gotten used to it. He was so fam
Ianto was falling apart. This was the one thing in his life that he was half certain about, and that troubled him deeply. Jack had been gone for so long, vanished without a trace: for all Ianto knew, he was dead. However, the chance always existed that he was alive, and perhaps that was how he managed to hold it all together.
Countless seconds had passed since the last time he'd been with Jack, ticking by on his pocketwatch. In fact, it had been more than seconds: it had been days, weeks- months? Ianto wanted to pretend that he didn't know exactly how many days, hours, minutes and seconds had passed since he'd seen th
Disclaimer: Jack / Ianto belong to someone else
Ianto Jones couldn't concentrate. He knows he should be used to it by now but he isn't. All he could do was feel those soft, warm lips caressing his neck. Ianto was sure that the owner of these lips knew he couldn't think of anything but those lips. Those lips that danced teasingly over his throat, while large hands softly kneed and fondled this flesh on his waist and hips.
Jack Harkness let a ghost of a smile grace his lips as he traced over his lovers/partners/friend/ Ianto. That fit, his Ianto. His Ianto's warm skin. Jack had decided this morning when his Ianto had walked in t