Title: home, curled in your arms
By: cupiecake
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG

***

It's late. Jack and Ianto have been working most of the night trying to trace an energy signal; the others he sent home hours ago, exhaustion wearing heavy on them. Ianto always stays, even when Jack would have sent him home too: he's given up on trying.

Jack blinks his eyes hard and yawns deeply. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Ianto, head resting on his arms, fast asleep. He looks at his watch; it's four am. He remembers Ianto getting them coffee at one thirty, Ianto laughing and telling him that "next time it's your turn, sir."

Now Ianto's snoring softly and that really can't be comfortable. Ianto doesn't even stir as Jack goes to his side. The Welshman looks younger in his sleep, and peaceful in a way that Ianto's cool waking demeanor only imitates. Jack doesn't want to wake him, hates to disturb that, so he carefully pulls Ianto away from the keyboard, lifts him from the chair. Ianto stirs sleepily but doesn't wake: Jack tells himself it's because the man trusts him, knows it's him, not a measure of how deeply tired Ianto is.

Getting him up to Jack's office is the easy part, as it turns out. Getting him down to Jack's little roost is more difficult. He pulls Ianto's arms around his neck and whispers, "hold on, Yan." Jack's amused to learn that Ianto follows his orders even while asleep.

Jack lays Ianto out on the bed. Unties his shoes and lets them fall. Unties Ianto's tie, unbuckles his belt, drapes them both over a chair. It's almost more difficult to undo his own accoutrements, because Ianto snuggles into the bed and looks so comfortable - the temptation of sleep multiplies, increases the gravity in the room until it's hard to move.

Undressed at last, Jack slips into the bed and pulls the covers up over them. Ianto turns, curls his body around Jack. Jack could almost swear he hears Ianto hum happily, feel a quirk of his lips into a smile.

"Nite, Yan," he whispers, his voice low and quiet. He kisses Ianto's hair and closes his eyes.

(In the morning, Ianto is very put out over the state of his clothing, and his neck is sore from sleeping at his desk. Jack puts his hands behind his head and whistles cheerfully, smile broad and lewd when Ianto turns to glare.

Color blooms quickly in Ianto's cheeks, but it doesn't take much to convince him to come back to bed.)

***