In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.
-W.H. Auden

Ianto sank onto the sofa, letting the papers he'd been gathering drop from his hands onto the table. His elbows on his knees, he held his head with the fingertips of both hands, staring down at the floor between his shoes. The hub was a silent wreck, but he couldn't do it. The adrenaline was gone. Everything that had happened, every movement he had made that day, every second of heart-pounding, tense terror was catching up with him. His hands shook.

"Ianto?" Jack spoke quietly from the doorway of his office.

Ianto looked at him. "Sorry," he said, vaguely, reaching out to take the papers again.

Jack came toward him, saying, "Leave it." He pushed the papers out of the way and sat on the table, one knee between Ianto's knees, one hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. "You okay?"

Ianto looked at Jack's face. He traced the lines there, the concern caught between his furrowed brows, the incredible age in his eyes. "I'm fine."

Jack slipped his hand from Ianto's shoulder to his neck, then up to the side of his face. He matched the opposite side with his other hand, cradling Ianto's head between both palms, and Ianto relaxed against it. He breathed against Jack's wrist.

"I know that you're immortal," he said, not whispering but still almost silent, his lips hardly moving, "but every time. Every time you die I worry that it might finally take."

Jack set his forehead against Ianto's. "I know."

They were silent for a moment, eyes closed, breathing in the closeness of their bodies, each others' breath.

"Do you wish," Ianto said, finally, "do you wish that you could die?"

Jack was silent for a moment. "I used to."

"And now?"

Jack said nothing. He rubbed his thumbs along the ridges of Ianto's cheekbones.

He kissed him, lightly, exhaling against his lips.

Ianto slowly wrapped his arms around Jack's neck.

They didn't move for a long time.