Ianto woke up to find himself in someone's home. With someone's arms around him.

Jack…

Ianto got a massive shock when he remembered what had happened last night – he had never told anyone, not even Alice, what Stephan had done to him. But Jack had always been such a comfort, so real, so… steadfast. Ianto just hoped his returning feelings for the man would go unnoticed.

"Morning, Yan." Said Jack, groggily rubbing his eyes. "Sleep well?"

Ianto thought about that. "Yes, actually. You?"

"I fell asleep holding a gorgeous guy that I've been missing for years. I slept fine, thanks," he said, grinning.

Ianto blushed, but otherwise ignored the comment. "Do you want some coffee or something?"

"Coffee's fine. I have instant and the good stuff, but I can't figure out how to use anything except instant."

Ianto mock-frowned. "Not good enough! I must teach you to make real coffee!"

"This early in the morning, must you? It's-" he looked at his watch"-seven in the morning."

"So?"

"Sane people are not awake at this hour."

"Are you calling us sane?"

Jack paused in thought. "Fair enough. Coffee."

And so began Ianto's torture.

***

Halfway through the day, things started getting awkward. It started with a rather innocent question.

"Is there any stuff you want to get or do you want to buy some clothes or something?"

"I don't have anything. I threw out anything she had touched." Jack knew who he meant by she, "… an OCD thing, apparently".

"Well then. Three options – Borrow some of mine – I think they'll fit – We can go buy some – which I am happy to do – Or you can walk around naked." Jack stroked his chin. "The first would be easiest, the second the most practical, but I think the last one is my favourite."

Ianto looked away, pink tingeing his cheekbones.

Jack smiled. "I love it when you blush," he said, almost hypnotically. "Sorry, " he added hastily, "I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it." Ianto cut him off. "It's just the way you are." He grinned. "I don't mind."

"Then would you mind if I did this?"

"What?" Ianto asked quietly.

Jack touched his lips to Ianto's, briefly, but warmly.

"Oh, that." Said Ianto. "… no?"
"You don't sound very certain."

"I don't feel very certain."

"Okay… good or bad?"
"Not sure…"

"Okay…"

"Maybe again?"

Jack didn't reply, just kissed him again.

"Wow."

"Is that what you say whenever anything new happens?"

"It's what I say when I see something amazing."

"Well that's good."

"Yeah… kiss me again?"

"Certainly."

This time Ianto participated in the kiss, and Jack loved it.

"Wow."

"Exactly what I think," said Jack, "whenever I see you."

Ianto looked up at him. "Jack, I don't want to spoil this, but… this is hard. I don't know what to think, what I should be thinking… I've only ever been with one person, and that was… you know who, and I don't want to feel that ever again – It's not that I don't trust you, I do, I just-"

"Ianto, I won't hurt you. I promise. And I won't force you to do anything, or pressure you. We'll just… see how this goes, okay? And I won't let anyone hurt you, not like that, not at all. You're safe here. Safe here with me."

Ianto nodded. "I feel safe," he admitted, "but I used to feel safe at home as well, and I felt safe at Alice's." He smiled at Jack. "But, I'm willing to try, on one condition."

"What is it?"

"Kiss me again?"

There was no talking for quite a while after that.

***

That night, after Ianto had been shown his room, he had borrowed some boxers and a singlet of Jack's.

"Thanks." Said Ianto.

"We'll get you some clothes tomorrow, whatever you want – more suits, pajamas, underwear, whatever."

Ianto had already been suckered into letting Jack get him whatever he wanted – Ianto decided that Jack could do whatever he wanted if he would kiss him like that again.

"Thank you."

"Welcome," jack said, as he tipped an imaginary hat. "I live to serve."

Ianto grinned. "Goodnight, Jack," he said, and turned around to go to his room.

"Do I get a goodnight kiss?" Asked Jack, sounding mock-hurt with an adorable pout on his face.

Ianto sighed dramatically. "If you must."

"I must indeed."

No matter how long they were together, or how many times they kissed, Ianto knew he would always get a tingle when jack kissed him like that.

"Goodnight, Ianto," Jack said, softly. "Sleep tight."

Ianto smiled, stretching his head up for one more kiss.

"'Night, Jack."

He walked up the stairs to his room and settled on his bed, which he and Jack had made earlier in the day. He cautiously pulled up the corner of the duvet, and then pulled the rest up, lay down, and snuggled the blankets around him, making a kind of warm, fluffy nest.

No, No, NO!! He yelled inside. Ianto knew he wouldn't get any sleep until his brain shut down, and it wouldn't shut down until it was happy. The messiness of the duvet was distracting, so he got up and made the bed again, making everything straight and wrinkle-free. Then he lay down on the floor, perfectly straight, his arms by his sides.

He still couldn't sleep.

There was a washing machine or a dishwasher somewhere in the house, not going, but still on. The microwave beeped. Outside, a stray cat scrounged for food, and a dog barked. Leaves rustled, and a door slammed – STOP!

Ianto had had severe insomnia since Alice was killed.

Ianto thought about Stephan. Was he really sorry he was dead? It was hard to think straight, when it came to Stephan. He hadn't just raped him. Sometimes, if Ianto had had a bad day, Stephan would bring him something – a chocolate, or a figurine. Ianto's favourite was ones called the 'Weeping Angels'. They were no bigger than his hand, made of cement or concrete, with their hands in front of their faces. Ianto still had them.

It had been so real – Stephan said that he loved him, that Ianto was his 'special little boy'. And Ianto had loved him too. Ianto knew what Stephan had done was wrong, but some part of him couldn't fathom Stephan not loving him.

The tears had been falling down his face for ages before he noticed that they were there. He was also sobbing – great, heaving sobs, so heavy that it was uncomfortable breathing. He sat up, leaning against the side of the bed, and wept for the only person to ever love him.