Title: Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood: Year One
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Gwil
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When a seven-year-old boy falls through the Rift, Ianto and Jack decide to adopt him. This is the story of his life at Torchwood.
Series: 1) Unconditional
Warnings: none
A/N: This is the last chapter of The First Year for Gwil. There will be more Gwil, I'm just splitting it up into years for organization's sake.

            Jack watched from his camp bed as Ianto got dressed. It was like a ritual with the young man – Jack knew better than to disturb it. First came the pants: silky red things Jack had bought him for his birthday a few months ago. Then the trousers, kept unbuttoned and unzipped until the vest and shirt were securely tucked in. Then belt and tie: today the tie was a soothing light blue. Jack smiled at the choice – light colors indicated Ianto was feeling happy, reds meant he was feeling sexy. Plain blacks or charcoal grays were generally not a good sign. After it was tied perfectly, Ianto would put on a waistcoat if he was wearing one that day – which he was, today. Finally came Jack’s favorite part (after Ianto stopped being naked): Ianto would sit down on the bed as he put on his socks and shoes.

            This was the only point in his routine that Ianto would allow Jack to get handsy. Jack grinned as he sat up on the bed, reaching out and stroking the pale skin of his neck. Both shoes on, Ianto turned to Jack with a small, nervous smile. “Ready for today?”

            Ianto’s eyes flickered down to the sheets, a small furrow creasing his brow. With a single finger under his chin, Jack lifted Ianto’s gaze until he was looking him in the eye. “You do realize you’re going to make the best dad ever, right?”

            Ianto shrugged. “More worried about Torchwood as a suitable home than I am myself being a suitable dad.” A small smile quirked his face, and he leaned over Jack. “Though I’m terrified of that, too.”

            Jack grinned broadly, tugging Ianto down into a kiss. Ianto pulled away, wrinkling his nose. “Morning breath, sir.”

            “Oh,” Jack flopped back against the pillows as Ianto stood to put on his coat. “You can’t go refusing me kisses and calling me sir in the same breath.”

            Ianto quirked an eyebrow over his shoulder from where he stood by the ladder. “Guess you’ll just have to brush your teeth then. Sir.” With a smirk he was gone, up the ladder and out of the bedroom.

            Jack sighed and stretched, scratching at his stomach. By the time the delicious aroma of coffee wafted down to his bed, Jack figured better get up, or risk the wrath of Ianto because he let his coffee go cold.

            In five minutes he managed to brush his teeth and get dressed, bounding up from his hole and into his office. Sure enough, there was a fresh mug of coffee waiting for him on his desk, nestled comfortably atop a pile of papers, with a pen conspicuously on top of them as well. Jack sighed good-naturedly, then took a quick swallow of his coffee. “Don’t suppose these papers are here for decoration?” he shouted out the front doorway of his office.

            “Sign them, Jack.”

            Jack jumped and spun around. Ianto stood there, smiling wickedly at Jack’s reaction. “Where’s Gwil?”

            Ianto’s expression instantly turned serious, and he nodded over Jack’s shoulder. “Finishing up his breakfast on the couch.” Jack grinned, grabbing his coffee and heading out into the main area of the Hub. He ignored the exasperated sigh that followed him.

            “Gwil? Gwil?”

            Sure enough, little Gwil was sitting cross-legged on the couch, plate of food balancing on his knees. Two glasses sat on the table in front of him: one full of orange juice, the other of milk. Jack smiled and reached out for the orange juice, taking a sip of it before Ianto was there, pulling the drink out of his hand and giving him a stern look. “Gwil needs his vitamins. Drink your coffee.”

            Jack looked longingly down at the omelet Gwil was munching on as he observed the two men quietly. “But, don’t Captains-”

            “Get breakfast, too,” Ianto finished for him, retrieving a plate filled with Jack’s very own omelet from seemingly nowhere. Jack grinned, scooping Ianto up for a kiss as he snatched his plate of food. A muffled giggle interrupted them, and the men broke apart, staring down at the little boy whose face was scrunched up in amusement.

            Jack threw himself down onto the couch, almost upsetting Gwil’s carefully balanced plate of food in the process. He ruffled his dark brown hair as Gwil giggled some more. “How you doing, kiddo?”

            Gwil instantly became subdued when Jack spoke to him, shrugging one shoulder and staring down at his food. “’m fine, Uncle Jack, sir.”

            Jack huffed and glared at Ianto. “He picks up those good habits from you,” he accused.

            Ianto just quirked an eyebrow and remarked dryly: “Well he has to learn manners from someone; not like he’ll pick them up from anyone else around here.” For a moment a worried expression passed over Ianto’s face, and he hurried off to the coffee machine. Jack watched as Ianto carefully prepared them both another cup, as well as Tosh’s coffee, who would be arriving soon.

            When he returned and passed Jack his cup, Jack took the opportunity to grab Ianto’s wrist, stroking his thumb over the smooth skin there. “Hey.”

            Ianto looked around the Hub, at Gwil – anywhere that wasn’t Jack. Finally his eyes settled on a point just below Jack’s chin, and he mumbled: “Maybe we should put Gwil in more proper hands. A family that knows what they’re doing, who can raise him right.”

            Jack glanced over at Gwil, who was occupying himself with blowing bubbles in his milk. He stood up, pulling Ianto close and reaching up to cup a hand to his cheek. Ianto’s eyelids fluttered at the touch, and they just stood there for a moment as Jack grazed his thumb gently over Ianto’s cheek. “Do you love him?”

            Ianto’s breath hitched, and he looked over at Gwil, blue eyes wide. Jack knew Ianto well enough to read a very real fear in those eyes. Beneath that, however, Jack thought he could see a glimmer of something else. The eyes returned to his, and Ianto nodded ever so slightly. “I...I think I might. But, it’s only been a week, Jack, and Torchwood...”

            The cog door alarm sounded, and Ianto immediately jumped back from Jack, melting into the background of the Hub. True to form, it was Toshiko, looking a little bit tired, but ready for a day of work. Ianto’s coffee was waiting for her on her desk, steaming hot, and she made a beeline for it, humming gratefully as she sipped.

            Jack sighed, looking over at Gwil, who was watching Toshiko with interest. They would have to tell him, and the rest of the team, about their plans soon. Preferably before Ianto reconsidered again.

            The cog alarm sounded a second time. In walked Gwen, fiddling with her phone. When she caught sight of Gwil her eyes lit up, and she hurried over. “Morning, sweetheart. How are you?”

            Gwil stared up at her, and Gwen visibly melted under those big blue eyes. Jack watched, fond grin on his face. If raised properly – which Jack fully intended to see to – that boy was going to be a real heartbreaker. “Fine, ma’am.”

            Gwen scrunched up her nose and ruffled Gwil’s hair. “Just call me Auntie Gwen, sweetie.”

            Ianto appeared with Gwen’s coffee, quirking a smile at her request. “I hope that means you and Uncle Jack are siblings or in-laws, rather than married.”

            Gwen laughed, taking her coffee from Ianto and smacking him on the arm. “Oi! Behave.”

            Ianto smiled as he turned to the coffee table and collected up the remnants of Gwil’s breakfast. He tapped the orange juice meaningfully. “You need to drink your juice. It has vitamins.”

            Scrunching up his face, Gwil took a small sip before setting the glass balefully back down onto the table. “It’s too sweet.”

            Ianto frowned. “If I bring you some fruit like yesterday, will you eat it?”

            Gwil considered the compromise before nodding decisively. Jack grabbed at Ianto’s elbow as he headed past. “Spoiling him already?”

            Ianto blushed and shrugged. “It’s fruit, Jack.”

            He started away, but Jack kept a firm grip on his elbow. “Ianto, we have to tell the team about this.”

            Whatever reply Ianto was going to say was cut off by the cog door alarm sounding as Owen stormed in, struggling out of his jacket. Jack came to a decision. “Everyone! Conference room.” Jack cut Owen off as he opened his mouth to complain. “Ianto’ll be there with coffee in five.”

            As Ianto set off to brew a fresh batch for everyone, Jack squatted down next to Gwil. “Why don’t you come with me? I’m going to show you a really neat toy.”

            Jack stifled a grin as Gwil glanced over at Ianto standing in front of the coffee machine before turning back to Jack. He nodded solemnly, hopping off the couch and reaching out to clutch at Jack’s trouser legs. Jack did him one better, scooping Gwil up into his arms and swinging him as he walked over to his office. Gwil giggled in his arms quietly, big eyes peering out in front of them to see where they were going.

            Once in the office, Jack sat Gwil down on a clear spot on his desk. He squirmed a little, but stilled and waited patiently as Jack rummage through his desk. The boy was too well behaved for his own good. Jack was determined to change that, and soon. Laughing triumphantly, he pulled what he was looking for out of the desk: a Gameboy and headphones.

            “Here.” Jack pressed the toy into Gwil’s hands. He turned it over in his tiny hands curiously, poking and prodding at it, while Jack put the earbuds in his ears. “You play it with your thumbs, like this,” Jack positioned Gwil’s hands properly on the Gameboy. It was lucky that Gwil was missing an index finger instead of a thumb. “And you turn it on...” Jack flipped the Gameboy on.

            Gwil’s eyes widened as he watched the pictures appear on the screen. One hand flew up to his ear, yanking the earbud out and staring at it. He moved the earbud back and forth closer to his ear and then away from it. Jack grinned down at him. “See, you press this button here,” he poked the “start” button, “to start the game. Then just fiddle with these buttons to move around, and these buttons to jump and do other stuff.”

            Gwil was entirely focused on the game, pressing buttons as his tongue slipped further and further from his mouth in concentration. Jack beamed. He’d spoil this kid – his kid – rotten yet. No matter how responsibly Ianto would try to raise him. Peering out from the office, he saw Toshiko and Gwen heading to the conference room together, discussing a file in Gwen’s hands. “Alright buddy, let’s go.”

            He scooped up Gwil again, placing him on his shoulders. He felt Gwil squirming around a bit, then settle into position with the Gameboy resting easily on Jack’s head. As he stepped to the conference room doors, he squatted down, instructing Gwil at the same time to “Duck.” He felt Gwil duck down low, wrapping his arms around Jack’s head as he pressed his body level with it. The two of them successfully navigated their way into the conference room without any bumps or bruises.

            Jack swung Gwil down and plopped him into a seat, making sure the volume on his Gameboy was turned up high enough to drown out anything they said. With one last hair ruffle, he left the boy to his video game and took his place at the front of the table.

            “What’s all this about, Jack?” Gwen asked.

            Jack glanced toward the door, looking for Ianto. “It’s about Gwil.” He waited, drawing his words out slowly. “Ianto and I have something we would like to discuss with you.”

With impeccable timing as always, Ianto appeared, carrying a tray of coffee. Jack waited as Ianto passed it out, ignoring questioning looks from the rest of the team. Once Ianto was seated next to him, and Gwil was absorbed in his game, Jack turned his focus back to the rest of the team. “Ianto and I are going to adopt Gwil.”

The announcement was met with mixed results. Ianto blushed and stared down into his coffee, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Owen scoffed and immediately launched into a list of reasons why the idea was ridiculous. “...weevils getting loose and tearing the sod limb from limb. ...babysitting some little brat while I’m trying to sedate a Hoix, for crying out loud. ...enough bloody children on the team as it is with you, Captain...”

            Gwen was ecstatic, clasping her hands together as she looked over at Gwil. “That’s wonderful! We’ll buy him clothes, teach him how to fight aliens with us...”

            Tosh was smiling and effusing over Gwil’s future, though more sedately than Gwen. “...get him set up in school. ...teach him his letters, maths...”

            Jack looked at Ianto, who was staying silent through the whole commotion. Their eyes met, and Ianto looked quickly down and away. He looked nervously around at the rapidly speaking team members. At Ianto’s hesitancy, Jack decided to take things back in hand.

            “Guys, guys! Alright, now,” he paused for dramatic effect, nodding over at Gwil who was still enthralled by his video game. “Now, we just have to figure out what to tell Gwil.”

           Gwil sat on Jack’s desk, staring balefully up at two men as he munched on a slice of cantaloupe. Jack and Ianto stood before him, grinning and frowning respectively. There was a break in the three-way stare as Gwil finished his fruit and glanced down at the sticky juice still on his fingers. Ianto took the broken eye contact to turn to Jack, hands on his hips. “Are you sure...”

            “Gwil.” Jack’s eyes flickered over to Ianto’s and he pursed his lips, as if to shush him. Jack wasn’t about to let Ianto have second thoughts for the fourth time in as many hours. “Gwil, you understand that you’re in the year twenty ten?”

            Gwil thought about it for a moment, cocking his head slightly to the side. Then he nodded just once in affirmation.

            “And you understand you’re not going back to your old life? With the mill?”

            Gwil nodded again. Jack’s lips twitched at how the little boy managed to make nodding such a serious affair.

            “Well, how would you like it if Ianto and I became your new daddies?”

            Ianto stepped forward, positioning his body to cut in front of Jack ever-so-slightly. “Well, Jack would be your dad. I would be your tad.”

            Oh. Jack beamed at Ianto. That simple statement made him want to wrap the other man up in his arms and snog him senseless. But right: child. This whole “cutting into their sex life” thing was going to be harder than he thought.

            Gwil glanced between the two men, a single finger trapped in his mouth as he sucked on the last of the juice coating it. Then his nose scrunched up and the finger popped out of his mouth. “Two tads?” His little body shook with suppressed giggles, before he asked “What about a mam?”

            Jack let Ianto take over, as he stepped in front and leaned forward. Jack was overcome by the conflicting desires of wanting to check out Ianto’s ass, and a surge of love for the little family of his. “Families don’t have just a mam and tad anymore,” he explained seriously. Gwil’s big blue eyes were focused on his as he listened. “There are families with mam’s and tad’s, but also families with mam’s and mum’s, or tad’s and dad’s. Do you understand?”

            Gwil nodded. “Yes, tad.”

            Jack watched carefully as Ianto’s entire body stiffened. He couldn’t see the other man’s face, and so was forced to wait, uncertain as to the reaction such words might provoke. An instant later Ianto was leaning forward carefully and wrapping his arms around the frail boy perched on the desk. When Ianto pulled away and turned to Jack, his eyes were red-rimmed and wet. Jack reached a hand out, but Ianto moved past him, with nothing more than a mumbled “Lunch,” before he disappeared.

            Blue eyes met blue as Jack stared down at Gwil, hands on his hips. The little boy squirmed and dropped his eyes, rubbing one index finger over the scarred place where his other once was. Automatically Jack reached a large hand out, clasping it over the both of Gwil’s. “Hey.” Gwil glanced up at the soft tone. “Want to-”

            But the suggestion of video games and toys that Jack was about to make was truncated by the Rift monitor going off. Gwil jumped in place on the desk as his eyes darted around frantically. In one motion Jack scooped Gwil up from the desk and rushed over to ladder, dropping him in front of it. “Gwil, I need you to listen to me, okay?” Gwil’s eyes were wide and a little scared, but thin eyebrows were pressed together in concentration. “I need you to go downstairs into my room. You can sleep, or play...” Jack hesitated, ever aware of the alarm blaring behind him and Tosh shouting out information, as he thought about the type of “toys” hidden under his bed. “Just, take a nap, okay? And don’t come out! No matter what!”

            Gwil nodded, and with a firm push from Jack, he scrambled down the ladder and was gone.

            Before he could even turn around, Jack felt heavy wool being placed on his shoulders, and he instinctively pushed his arms into the sleeves. “Gun, sir.” Cool leather was being pressed into his hand, and Jack turned around to come face to face with Ianto, worried eyes shining out from beneath his professional exterior. “Looks like a batch of living organisms. Tosh doesn’t have a fix on how many or what kind yet. But they are multiples.”

            Jack nodded, turning to run off to the garage before hesitating. “He’s-”

            “I’ll stay behind and monitor the computers while Tosh goes out to the field.” His eyes flickered to the manhole before meeting Jack’s calmly. “By the time you come back, I’ll have lunch ready.”

            Taking one last moment, Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto’s waist. “Keep him safe.”

            “And you the team, sir.”

            Jack pulled Ianto close, kissing him. Even though the kiss was quick and chaste, he felt Ianto melt a little in his arms. He pulled away, and with one last look into Ianto’s eyes and thumb swept across his cheek, Jack was off.

            Ianto stood in the quiet space of Jack’s bedroom, hands on his hips, as Gwil watched a Sesame Street video on a portable DVD player. He was surveying the Count’s number craze with eyes much too serious for a seven year old. The maniacal laugh of the Count filled the cramped room, and the reminder of the room’s size made Ianto furrow his brow further.

            There was the stomp of boots above his head, and then Jack’s feet came into view as he charged down the ladder. He greeted Ianto with a peck on the cheek and arm around his waist. “Need me to put Gwil in the conference room? We could...”

            Decisively, Ianto turned to face Jack. His face immediately fell when greeted with Ianto’s stony expression. Ianto had to suppress an amused twitch of his lips at the sight. “Jack.”

            “Ianto.”

            “That’s what I needed to talk to you about.” Jack’s eyes lit up, but Ianto continued. “Not about sex.” Jack’s face fell for the second time. “About living space. Gwil needs his own room. And a playroom. And I need a kitchen if I’m going to keep him properly fed.”

            Jack toyed with the hem of Ianto’s waistcoat as he considered. Ianto did his best to ignore the distraction. “You’ve been managing just fine with the fruits and everything so far.”

            At that, Ianto blushed and glanced down. “I’ve been making runs to my flat or the market whenever I have a moment.”

            Surprise flitted across Jack’s face, though whatever he might have said was interrupted by Gwil’s giggles of delight at something on the screen. Both men turned to look, and when they turned back to each other they wore matching expressions of love. “We need a flat, Jack. Even better: a house.”

            Ianto watched as Jack’s expression flitted from shocked, to indignant, to worried, to finally sad. “But...” he glanced around the small bunker. “This is...” There was another pause as Jack seemed to try and collect his thoughts. “For a hundred years, Ianto.”

            Ianto winced. He suspected as much, though he hadn’t sorted a better way to approach the subject with Jack. As much as the man lived in the present, he could be an old man in the way he held onto things from past lives. He dropped his voice, reaching out and folding his hands over one of Jack’s, which was still playing nervously with his hem. “I know, Jack.” He looked over at Gwil. “But we have to figure out something more permanent.”

            Suddenly Jack’s eyes lit up. “Wait!” He pulled Ianto in and kissed him on the forehead. “Wait right here!” With a laugh, he dashed up the ladder and out into the Hub. Ianto listened as his boot steps faded away.

            Ianto was left standing awkwardly in the bunk, shifting from foot to foot as Gwil concentrated on his video. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in this sort of situation. Sit with Gwil? Watch the video with him? Maybe he could just clean up a bit...but no, the room was spotless from his once-over that morning. What did parents do all day with their kids?

            “Tad?”

            Ianto stiffened at the address, turning slowly to look at the little boy staring up at him from the bed. He felt his heart clench at the word, and his eyes burn. He admonished himself for such a strong reaction, going over to sit on the bed with Gwil. Can’t start crying every time he calls me ‘tad’. “Yes?”

            Gwil pointed at the video screen, which was still playing the Count video. He appeared to be counting apples. “The video showed a number, but I didn’t know it.”

            Ianto moved Gwil’s hands gently away from the player and fiddled with the rewind button. “We can go back. See? I press this button here, and it goes back.”

            Ianto glanced over to see Gwil’s bright blue eyes watching his hands with all the care born from years as a mill scavenger. Every movement of Ianto’s fingers were catalogued and stored in his mind, to be recreated at a moment’s notice. “Where’s the number you didn’t know?”

            Gwil watched the screen patiently as the video ran backwards. His brow furrowed in concentration, until suddenly his whole face flew open in recognition. “There!”

            Ianto let the video run backwards another second, then pressed play.

            “Six! Six apples! Ah ha ha ha!”

            Gwil held his hands up to Ianto. “Show me six.”

            Ianto hesitated, looking at the scarred and damaged hands before him. He clasped Gwil’s undamaged hand in his. “Show me one through five, first.”

            Gwil nodded. He held up his fingers one by one, counting off. “One, two, three, four, five.”

            Ianto nodded. He took Gwil’s damaged hand and pulled out the thumb. “Six is this: one more than five.” He continued to pull out Gwil’s fingers, ignoring the space lacking an index finger. “Then comes seven, eight, nine...” Without any hesitation, Ianto stuck his own index finger next to Gwil’s full open hands, “and ten.”

            Gwil smiled broadly. “The Count said ten! He said ten fingers and toes.” Gwil scratched at the empty place where his index finger used to be. “I only have nine, right?”

            Ianto nodded. Gwil looked so sad, that Ianto instinctively pulled the little body onto his lap, holding him close. “But that’s okay. It just means you’ll have to get me or...or your dad to help you count.”

            The answer seemed to satisfy Gwil, and he continued to watch the video intensely, blue eyes darting across the screen in an attempt to memorize every moment. Ianto settled his cheek against Gwil’s hair and watched the video with him.

            Just as the Count was turning over the video to Big Bird, Jack’s boot steps could be heard clattering above. A moment later his feet appeared as he started down the ladder, followed shortly by the rest of him.

            Ianto didn’t miss the moment’s pause as Jack took in the sight of Gwil snuggled comfortably in Ianto’s lap. But Jack just smiled softly before waving a weird little tablet in his hand. “Found it!”

            He walked over to Ianto, handing him the device. Ianto turned it over one-handed, carefully inspecting it. It appeared to be a computer tablet, with stylus attached. On the back was a series of forty-eight round dots, which appeared to be removable. Ianto handed the device back to Jack. “Is this hypercube tech?”

            Jack nodded. “Got it in one!” He ripped the stylus off and gestured at the tablet. “All we have to do is draw our rooms...” he sketched a quick approximation of a bedroom, complete with specified lengths for the walls, “and then we take four of these little babies...” Jack peeled four of the dots off the back which were now glowing, “and...” Jack raced across the room, placing the four dots into a corner in the approximate size of a door. “Voila! Instant room!”

            Ianto’s eyes widened as the dots glowed for a moment, before a door rose out of them and swung open. Inside the door, Ianto could see a bare space, extending far beyond the confines of Jack’s little bunk. “Whoa.” Ianto maneuvered Gwil out of his lap and back onto the bed, before he stood up and joined Jack in front of the brand new room. He ducked his head in and pulled back out. “That is cool.”

            Wrapping an arm around him, Jack squeezed Ianto close. “Isn’t it?” He waved the tablet at Ianto. “And this way, you can have your kitchen and playroom and separate bedrooms,” Jack waggled his eyes at the last bit, “And we can still stay here!”

            Ianto snatched the tablet and stylus from Jack’s hand and started sketching. Jack frowned. “What are you doing?”

            Ianto shushed him, frowning at the tablet. “Designing the rooms. And before you say anything,” Ianto gestured at the empty room Jack had just created, “your room lacks electrical outlets, lighting, and air vents.” Jack and Ianto shared a grin before Ianto returned his attention to the tablet.

            For an hour Ianto worked, carefully designing each and every room they’d need for their little underground flat. At first he stood in the center of the room, brow furrowed, tablet and stylus in either hand as he worked. Soon Jack was calling him over to the bed, where he was sitting with Gwil in his lap as they watched Big Bird teach about sharing together. Ianto sat down next to them, continuing his work even as he felt Jack’s hand settle on his thigh.

            By the time he finished, Gwil was fast asleep, draped across both men’s laps, with the DVD player balanced precariously on his stomach. Ianto nudged Jack with his shoulder, waving the tablet around significantly. Jack took the hint, scooping Gwil and the player up into his arms, thus allowing Ianto to stand up. Ianto started positioning the glowing dots as Jack tucked Gwil into their bed, setting the DVD player on the side table for safekeeping.

            “Finished?” Jack’s breath was hot against Ianto’s ear, and he shuddered at the feel of it. He tried to quell his arousal, though it was getting damn hard. They hadn’t shagged in...what, three days? Ianto only hoped their new living quarters would fix that.

            “Yup.” Ianto peeled off four of the dots and handed them to Jack. “Set these up in front of the bathroom.” Jack moved to comply, as Ianto headed over to the back wall to set up four more dots.

            The room Ianto set up was Gwil’s room. He stepped inside it, glancing around. Bathroom, electrical outlets, lights, a ceiling fan...perfect. Ianto stepped to the back of it, setting up three more dots in the far corner. Another room opened up: a playroom for Gwil. “Want to christen it?”

            Ianto jumped, spinning around to find Jack leering behind him. “It’s Gwil’s playroom, Jack.”

            Jack shrugged. “Still...”

            Ianto laughed, pushing Jack away. “No. But, if you’re good and help me set everything up...” Ianto leaned close, grinning as Jack’s eyes went wide and breath quickened, “We can christen our new bedroom tonight.”

            A veritable growl escaped Jack’s throat, but Ianto darted away before Jack could pounce. He hurried through the two rooms and into their new master bedroom. “Now: kitchen.” Ianto set up another room in the back of theirs. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Jack still following him. “You find the furniture, I’ll do the grocery shopping.”

            Before Jack could whine, Ianto pulled him in close, kissing him soundly on the lips. “Sooner we get this taken care of...” he trailed off, eyebrow arched as Jack’s eyes dilated.

            “Ianto,” he groaned.

            “Later.” Ianto kissed Jack again, allowing them both a moment to lose themselves in the wet slide of tongues over tongues and lips sucking at lips. “Later,” Ianto said again, finally pulling apart. With a groan and one last peck on the lips, Jack nodded. The two separated, heading off to work on finishing their new home.

Jack grinned as he dragged Ianto into their brand new master bedroom. Gwil had been put to bed hours ago, but the Rift and moving in had preoccupied the two men until late into the night.

But finally, finally, Jack had Ianto all to himself. And Jack planned to take full advantage of their time alone. “Ianto.”

He pulled Ianto to him, enveloping the other man in his arms as their mouths met in a messy kiss. Ianto pushed him backwards, into the bed, and Jack fell down onto it with a laugh. As Ianto crawled on top of him Jack moaned, thrusting his hips up as he pulled Ianto down to him by his tie.

“Jack, Jack, wait...”

Jack could have killed Ianto, if he wasn’t so busy kissing his neck. “What?” he groaned. “Come on,” he rolled the both of them over until Ianto was beneath him, mouth never leaving its place on Ianto’s neck. “Tonight, I’m going to make you scream.”

Ianto squirmed, tilting his head away as hands pushed at Jack’s chest. “No, Jack. We have to be quiet.” Jack pulled away, staring down in horror as Ianto spoke. “Gwil’s just on the other side of the wall.”

Jack moaned, collapsing on top of Ianto and rubbing against him like a kicked puppy. Quiet? Quiet? “But, Ianto,” Jack nipped at Ianto’s ear before whispering into it: “I love listening to you during sex.”

He could feel Ianto harden beneath him, hips rolling up against his in an automatic response. Jack decided to press his advantage: continuing to speak as he began to undress Ianto. “I love the way you sigh when I first stroke your cock.” Jack’s hands imitated his words, undoing Ianto’s trousers and slipping in. He glanced up at Ianto’s face as he stroked, but his lips remained closed, even as his eyes glazed over at the ministrations.

Jack kept trying. “And the way you purr whenever my tongue caresses any centimeter of your skin.” Ianto’s clothes were rapidly disappearing, to be replaced by Jack’s tongue. He lapped at Ianto’s nipples, at his ribs; he dipped his tongue into Ianto’s navel before lapping at his hairy inner thighs. Throughout it all, Ianto didn’t make a sound. His eyes were shut, and body arching to Jack’s touch. Jack knew he was enjoying it, if the precome dripping down his erection and rapid rise and fall of his chest were any indication. But the only sound filling the room besides the sound of Jack’s voice was Ianto’s heavy breathing.

Jack upped his game: nuzzling his face along Ianto’s cock and darting his tongue out to lave at his balls. “I love the way you moan when I take your cock into my mouth.” Imitating his speech, Jack slipped his mouth over the head, bobbing down briefly and lapping at the hard flesh before pulling away. Jack heard a sharp exhalation, but when he glanced up Ianto’s mouth remained firmly shut, nostrils flaring as he took in more oxygen.

Jack rested his chin on Ianto’s thigh, pouting as he stared up at the other man. A raised eyebrow greeted his scrutiny, though it was a minute before Ianto finally spoke. “Finished? Or are we actually going to have sex?”

“Oh, so now you’ll make some noise.” Jack crawled up Ianto and reached over to the bedside table, snatching at the lube and coating his fingers in it before dropping it onto Ianto’s chest. He pressed two fingers inside himself as Ianto reached for the lube, squeezing some into his hand before reaching down to stroke his own erection.

Ianto smirked, all cheeky arrogance beneath Jack. “It’s this or no sex, Jack.” Jack squinted as he pushed a third finger into himself, focusing on preparing himself as efficiently as possible. “Don’t need our son traumatized by our extravagant sex life.”

Jack froze, three fingers buried deep within himself. Ianto froze beneath him in the same moment, eyes growing wide. Our son.

Jack reached his free hand down, rubbing a thumb over Ianto’s cheek. With a gentle sigh the two men kissed, converting emotions to passion, the intangible and inexpressible to something physical - visceral. In that moment Jack lowered himself onto Ianto, groaning into the other man’s mouth as his cock filled him.

“Love the way you groan every time you enter me.”

A whimper might have escaped Ianto’s open mouth, but it was swallowed immediately by Jack’s as the two men began to thrust.

“Love your grunts and growls as you take me,” Jack whispered. His voice grew hoarse with arousal as Ianto’s hands moved down his sides, settling on his hips as he thrust up into Jack. In turn, Jack reached down and gripped at Ianto’s flanks, driving down onto him. Heavy breathing and the occasional gasp filled the room, but try as he might, Jack couldn’t wrench even a whimper from Ianto’s tightly sealed lips. He tried pushing down hard and fast onto that thick, gorgeous cock beneath him, to no avail. He rose up tortuously slowly, sinking down in smooth, languid movements, hoping the pace would elicit an impatient growl, at the very least. Still, nothing. He clenched around Ianto as he drew up, but all that succeeded in doing was sending shudders coursing through Ianto’s body as his breaths grew louder and his eyes slid shut.

Jack huffed, throwing his head back and succumbing to his own pleasure, as wringing sounds out of Ianto was apparently a lost cause. As he came - thick ropes of fluid spattering on Ianto’s chest and stomach - Jack clenched hard around Ianto, hands digging into his flanks. Ianto continued to thrust into him, painfully quiet, as Jack softened. Leaning down until his lips were level with Ianto’s ear, Jack nipped at the lobe before murmuring: “I love the way you cry out when you come. Sometimes, when we’re gentle and slow, it’s this little, broken cry - like you’re amazed by how good it all is. When we’re rough, it’s more of a hoarse shout, manly and rugged.” Jack paused, waiting, as Ianto’s thrusts inside him grew more ragged. Still, not a sound escaped the other man.

Reaching up and running a hand through the other man’s thick, dark hair, Jack continued. “When we’re playing games, your cry is more of a awestruck laugh. I think I love that one best.” Jack nuzzled at Ianto’s neck, lapping at the sweat dripping down the sweet skin. “I love that one because it means you’re happy.” Jack paused, thinking he heard a sound other than Ianto’s breathing and the slapping of their skin. But no: the other man’s thrusts were ragged, his control almost gone, and yet he still managed to stay silent. Jack sighed and kissed at the tender spot below Ianto’s ear. “I love it when you’re happy,” he whispered.

Beneath him, Ianto stiffened as he came, heat flooding Jack’s passage as he emptied himself into it. Jack waited through the orgasm, rolling off once the last aftershocks had rippled through Ianto’s body. The men shifted on their new, king-sized bed: fluffing pillows, tugging at the sheets, and pulling limbs into comfortable positions. Finally they were in place, with Jack lying on his back and Ianto on his stomach, face buried in Jack’s neck. Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto, rubbing at his shoulder and neck as he thought.

“You know, I really don’t like you having to be quiet during sex.”

A delicate snort drifted up from his shoulder as Ianto just nuzzled at the skin. “I think you made your point.”

Jack sighed. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ianto’s hair before rubbing him fiercely. “No, but, I mean it.” Internally, Jack grumbled at himself. He couldn’t figure how to express how he felt about Ianto’s noises during sex. For one, it wasn’t just a sex thing - which, considering the situation, was a peculiar way to feel. But he knew he wanted to hear those little grunts and keens and moans.

“Ianto, I...I love the sounds. I really do.”

Pressed to his chest, Ianto stirred, lifting his chin up and resting it on Jack’s pecs. Blue eyes contemplated him seriously as Jack rubbed a soothing hand across his shoulder. “Tomorrow, Rift willing, I can look into sound proofing.”

Jack’s grin lit up his face. Immediately Ianto arched an eyebrow in warning, pushing himself further upright. “You know, you said you wouldn’t mind if Gwil cut into our sex life.”

Jack winced. “Well, but if we can help it...”

Ianto’s small smile made up for the muted sex. Jack tugged him close, kissing him again on the forehead before they fell asleep.

        Ianto was resisting the urge to pace. Jack was apparently giving into the temptation, treading a hole in the observation floor of the med bay as they watched Owen work below. Gwil sat on the table, calmly watching as Owen produced a series of syringes and laid them out on the table next to him. He was rattling off a list of vaccines for Gwil and the possible side effects. “So, since he's missing out on every vaccines, well, ever, I'm giving him an all-around super series of immunizations.” Owen held up a finger to the two men before either could speak. “And before you two concerned dads start, it's all perfectly safe.”

            Ianto leaned forward, wrapping his hands around the railing. The cold metal bit into his skin as his grip tightened. He could feel Jack at his back, continuing to pace in and out of the corners of his eyes as his heavy footsteps echoed around the med bay.

            Owen held up a syringe. “Booster number one! We've got HepB, RV, DTaP, Hib, PCV and IPV in this package.” He patted Gwil's arm, encouraging him to lift it. With a swift glance back at Ianto and Jack, Gwil held the arm up. Ianto stared into his scared blue eyes as Owen jabbed the needle in. Gwil snapped his eyes shut, but didn't make a sound.

            “English, Owen. What'd you just vaccinate him against?”

            Owen smiled tightly as he set the syringe down on the table, then picked up a second one and began to prepare it. “HepB is, obviously, the Hepatitis B vaccine. Every kid gets vaccinated against it in the first few months. RV immunizes against Rotavirus, which basically means you both should be shaking my hand right now, since I just saved you a world of headache.” Owen paused, apparently waiting them to ask about it.

            Jack broke first, irritation snapping in his voice like a gunshot. “What do you mean?”

            “Rotavirus causes diarrhea!” Ianto noticed that Owen somehow managed to convey the same amount of glee at diarrhea as he had at rat jam.

            Jack settled next to Ianto on the railing, waving a hand as he shoulder bumped against Ianto's. Ianto glanced over at Jack as he spoke. “Thanks for that, Owen. What about the next one? DTaP?”

            Owen flicked his finger at the syringe in hand as he spoke. “That one's nice. Prevents against Diphtheria, Whooping Cough, and Tetanus! Should get that one every decade or so, standard procedure.” With a come-hither gesture, Owen made Gwil raise his opposite arm up for the second injection. As he pressed the plunger down, Owen continued. “Hib prevents against a particularly nasty form of influenza, PCV prevents against a type of pneumonia, and IPV is your polio vaccine.”

            A soft whimper sounded through the bay, made audible only by the acoustics of the room. Jack and Ianto practically fell over each other racing down to comfort Gwil, who was crying quietly. Jack got there first – if only because Ianto refused to leap over the railing – and scooped Gwil up into his arms, mindful of the two injection sites. “Hey, hey, it's okay little man.”

            In another second Ianto was at Jack's side, running a hand through Gwil's hair. Jack continued to make gentle shushing noises. “It's okay. They're just shots. Everyone has to get one. Even grown-ups.” With a growl Jack turned to Owen, looking above Gwil's head. “What was that one?”

            Owen rolled his eyes, getting yet another syringe ready. “MMR, Varicella, and HepA.” He flicked the syringe in his hands, eyeing up Gwil as if deciding where he should stick it. “Prevents measles, rubella, which is a kind of measles, mumps, chickenpox, and, obviously, Hepatitis A.”

            Ianto nodded at the last syringe, hand still stroking absently through Gwil's hair. “What's that one?”

            “Standard flu shot.” Owen edged closer, before finally throwing his hands up. “Listen, guys, you're just going to have to trust me and let me do my job, alright? Now turn the boy over so I can stick this in his arse.”

            There was a moment of shocked silence – broken only by muffled sobs coming from Gwil – as the three men stared each other down. Then, very quietly, Jack began to chuckle. It took Ianto a moment, but by the time Jack was full-out roaring with laughter, he had realized what he found so amusing.

            Owen seemed to realize it, too, and threw his hands up in defeat. “Oh, for...Ianto?”

            Gently Ianto nudged a still hysterically laughing Jack away from Gwil. “In...his arse...” Jack managed to gasp out. “Going to give the boy a...little...prick!” He descended into mad cackles again, collapsing against the side railing.

            Ianto made sure to shoot Jack a you're-an-adult-so-start-acting-like-one look, before turning his attention back to Gwil's tear-stained face. “Hey, come here.” Ianto pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at Gwil's tears, before holding it in front of his nose. “Blow.”

            Gwil obeyed, and Ianto tucked the now saturated square of fabric back into his pocket without a second's thought. “Now, Owen has one more injection for you, okay?”

            Gwil looked like he might start crying again, so Ianto moved in and quickly kissed him on the forehead. It seemed to help calm Gwil down a little bit. “It's okay. I know it hurts, but you're just going to have to be brave.”

            With a reluctant sniffle, Gwil nodded. Ianto smiled and gave him a hug, squeezing the tiny body tight. “You're going to have to turn over, lie down on your tummy.”

            Obediently Gwil pulled away and lay down on the cool metal of the table. Ianto watched as Owen shucked down his trousers and glanced at the needle one last time. Gwil's head snapped around to Ianto, eyes wide. Ianto tried for a reassuring smile, not sure if he was getting it right, as he reached out and gripped Gwil's hand in his own. “It'll be over in a second.”

            Gwil's eyes squeezed shut as the needle went in, his hand tightening around Ianto's. Ianto ran a thumb gently over the scar tissue from his mill accident, humming a lullaby under his breath. Finally, after what had to be no more than five seconds but felt like an eternity, Owen pulled away and patted Gwil's leg. “All done. See? Not terrible.” Ianto glared at Owen, certain that behind him, Jack was doing the same. Owen rolled his eyes and started over for the plasters. “Well, it's a sight better than mumps!” He stared over at Jack. “You do know the symptoms, don't you?”

            Jack winced, nodding quickly. Owen stopped back over to the table, coming around to Gwil's head. “What color plasters do you want? You've got three boo-boos to cover up.”

            Ianto poorly suppressed a chuckle. When Owen looked up, confused, Ianto merely arched an eyebrow and said “'Boo-boos'?”

            Owen gave him a look that could have curdled milk. “I'm not normally around kids, alright? Unless you count Captain Fantastic, over there.”

            Ianto turned to see Jack raising his eyebrows in a wholly un-innocent expression. “Me? Juvenile?” He scoffed. “And how'd you know Ianto's special name for me?”

            Ianto flushed as Owen made gagging noises. The doctor turned his attention back to Gwil, waggling the jar of plasters at him. “Made up your mind?”

            Gwil pointed. “Can I have blue and red? I like blue and red.”

            Ianto and Jack shouldn't have exchanged proud looks at such a simple choice. But they did.

**

            Shaking with a cold sweat, Ianto sat straight up in bed, ears perked and eyes straining in the dark. Something was wrong. Something bad was happening.

            After a long, long moment sitting in the dark and stillness, Ianto heard it. A thready, wet cough. The sound was coming through their open door from Gwil's bedroom.

            Without a second's thought, Ianto leapt from bed, ignoring Jack's muffled “Riff-unghf?” as he dashed out of their room. Running to Gwil's bedside, Ianto reached out a shaking hand to his forehead. He was burning up. “Shit shit shit shit.” Shaking fingers reached out and checked the little boy's pulse, strong but rapid beneath sweaty skin. “Fuck. Fucking Owen!” At a loss of what to do, Ianto settled for scooping Gwil up and out of bed, duvet and all. He hurried the little boy to the kitchen, depositing him in a chair before rushing to grab a cup of water. He filled up one of Gwil's plastic cups: made for small hands prone to dropping things. He pushed the cup into Gwil's hands, encouraging him to drink as he fumbled for his cell. “Where...”

            Jack stumbled in then, glancing around blearily as he scratched his stomach. “What's going on?”

            “Jack, call Owen. Gwil's burning up. His pulse is fast, he's sweating and shivering.”

            Jack raced over, pressing a large palm against Gwil's forehead. His lips tightened and he nodded. “I'll get Owen. Stay with him.”

            Ianto nodded, gathering Gwil up into his arms and sitting down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. He helped Gwil take another sip of water, brushing sweat-soaked hair away from his face as he did. Gwil shivered and coughed wetly. “Tad? I'm cold.”

            Tears blossomed in Ianto's eyes as he leaned forward to press a kiss to the damp forehead. “I know. Ja-dad's calling Owen right now. He's going to bring medicine to make you better.”

            As he waited, Ianto stared down at the duvet covering the two of them. It was covered in airplanes – Jack had insisted. Tears that had previously stung his eyes now threatened to fall as he remembered picking it out with Jack. Ianto had agreed on the bedding only if Jack promised to give Gwil a strong talking to if he ever got the urge to up and join the RAF, or some such other fool-hardy endeavor.

            A minute later Ianto could hear shouting coming from their bedroom. “What the hell did you do to our son? … Possible side effects? … Get your ass down here, Harper, or so help me … Good!” Ianto winced as he heard something break against the wall. If he had to guess, he'd say it was his alarm clock. He made a note to check and order a new one if he was right.

            Jack stormed into the kitchen, expression immediately crumbling as he gaze fell on Gwil. “Why don't we set him up in front of the tv?”

            Ianto nodded, passing Gwil to Jack's outstretched arms. He took a moment to refill Gwil's water before following them into Gwil's playroom, where the telly was. Jack was flipping through the channels, before finally settling on a World War II documentary. Ianto arched an eyebrow as he handed Gwil his water and checked to make sure he was well tucked-in on the couch. “Is this really appropriate programming?”

            Jack shrugged, clutching the remote tightly. “He's fine. And who knows: might catch a glimpse of me.”

            Ianto looked pointedly down at Gwil, which was quickly turning into his signal for Jack to stop talking about things the little one shouldn't know. Jack rolled his eyes but passed the remote over to Ianto before standing. “I'll go upstairs and wait for Owen.” Ianto took his place on the couch, tilting his head up for a quick kiss before Jack left.

            Fifteen minutes later, Ianto was beside himself. Gwil had drifted off into a restless sleep: coughing wetly every few minutes, fever still burning through his skin. Ianto had made sure he finished his water, but now with Gwil sleeping there was nothing for Ianto to do besides watch the little figure toss and turn in the grip of illness. If Owen didn't show up soon, Ianto was ready to pile them all into the SUV and drive to the A&E.

            The sounds of footsteps and angry male voices floated into the playroom. Ianto jumped up from the couch, remembering at the last moment to be mindful of Gwil's tenuous sleep. “He's running a fever.”

            “Yeah, yeah, Jack told me. How high?”

            Ianto blinked. Owen's mouth dropped open. “You mean to tell me you guys haven't thought to actually stick a thermometer under his arm and check to see his temperature?”

            Ianto met Jack's eyes on the other side of the couch. He shrugged.

            “I don't think we even have-”

            Owen scoffed, cutting Ianto off. “You two do realize you live under the Hub, right? That my med bay is, oh, a one minute jaunt up your ladder?”

            Ianto mentally berated himself. How could they have been so stupid? What kind of parent was he, that he couldn't even think to check his son's temperature when he was running a fever? How had he not thought to stock the medicine cabinet with a thermometer? Or just gone upstairs and gotten one from Owen's medical supplies himself?

            Jack was yelling again. “Well that's what I pay you for! You're a doctor! Do something medical!”

            Owen groused and grumbled as he tossed his backpack on the couch. “Don't think taking care of your kids was in my job description, Harkness.” Before Jack could start up again, Owen continued. “Just calm down, alright? I've got the fucking thermometer right here.”

            “Language,” Ianto mumbled absently.

            Jack's smile was normally enough to calm Ianto's fried nerves, and it did help – a little. Not enough.

            Hands on his hips for lack of anything better to do with them, Ianto watched as Owen hauled Gwil up into a sitting position. “Hey, Gwil? Wake up for me; there you go.”

            Gwil's eyes fluttered open, and he glanced around the room, his gaze settling on Ianto. His normally bright blue eyes were glazed as a weak hand fluttered out. “Tad?”

            Ianto raced forward, dropping down to his heels as he grabbed the little hand. “Hey. It's going to be okay. Owen's here: he'll fix you up.”

            “He better.” Ianto glanced up at Jack, shooting him a look.

“Doctor Harper is right here, so you better shut your big gob if you want me to fix this.” Even as the three men were arguing – or in Ianto's case, quietly having a nervous breakdown – Owen worked. He pulled a thermometer out of his bag, sticking it under Gwil's arm and ordering him to keep it there. Next came an otoscope which he used to examine Gwil's ears, eyes, and nose.

            “Open your mouth, Gwil. There you go. Say 'ah'.” Gwil complied, but started coughing after just a second of speaking. Owen frowned.

“Wet cough.”

            If Ianto hadn't been holding Gwil's hand, he would be wringing his own with anxiety. “I know. That's bad, isn't it?”

            As he pulled a stethoscope from his bag, Owen rolled his eyes. “Relax, mate. It's to be expected from all the immunizations. It just means he's got gunk in his lungs.” Owen rolled up Gwil's pajama top – pterodactyls and dinosaurs, which Jack had cooed and exclaimed over as soon as they saw it in the store – and pressed the stethoscope to his chest. “Take a big breath for me, Gwil. Breathe in...” Ianto didn't even need a stethoscope to hear the rattle from his lungs.

            Oh God, he's going to die. His body can't handle the twenty-first century; he's going to die and it's our fault. Oh please, no, no...

            The thermometer beeped and Owen reached for it, pull the stethoscope out of his ears as he did. “38.5.”

            “That's bad, isn't it? How bad is that?” Tears were spring to Ianto's eyes as he stared helplessly up at Owen.

            “Well, in my professional opinion as a doctor,” Owen shot Jack a glare as he emphasized the word, “your son is sick.”

            Ianto blinked. Jack spoke first. “Owen...”

            “He's going to be fine.” Owen snorted as he dug into his backpack again, withdrawing two bottles and handing them over to Ianto. “It's just a reaction to the immunizations, which we knew was probably going to happen. He'll be fine in a few days.” He pointed at the bottles. “Just give him a capful of each three times a day with food. Make sure he stays hydrated. Make him some chicken soup, or something.” As Ianto stared, brain slow from shock, Owen laughed. “Look at you two: ready to jump off a cliff from a little cold. God help the poor sod if he ever breaks a leg.”

            Ianto stared at the two bottles now clenched tightly in his fist. “He's going to be fine.”

            “Got it in one, tad,” Owen laughed. “Now, if you two don't mind, I have a gorgeous blonde waiting for me back at my flat, thinking I have the worst boss in the universe.” Owen packed up his things and stood, shrugging at Jack. “'Course, after tonight, I'm not going to really argue the point.”

            Ianto took a last, shaking breath. “Fine. He'll be fine.”

            Owen nodded slowly. “Yeah, Ianto.” With a scoff he turned to Jack, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Will you deal with your spouse? Like I said: blonde. Gorgeous. Goodnight.”

            Ianto was too busy rubbing his fingers over and over the hand clasped in his. Fine. Fine. He's fine. It's just a cold. Without him noticing, Jack had crossed the room and dropped down beside him. Jack's arm around his waist and lips in his hair brought Ianto back to reality. “Sorry,” Jack mumbled into his hair. “I guess I overreacted.”

            Ianto's laugh was more relived than hysterical, though it was a close thing. “We're terrible at this.”

            Jack laughed with him, pressing a kiss to his temple before squeezing him tight and standing. “Come on.” He bundled Gwil up in his arms, carrying the sleepy boy back to his bed. Ianto followed, still clutching the two bottles of medicine in his hand like a security blanket. Jack left him to Gwil, heading off to the kitchen to fetch something light for Gwil to eat along with the medicine. Once Gwil was snugly tucked into bed, a pile of pillows propping him up, Ianto measured out a capful each of the two medicines. One was a pink, thick syrup; the other was red and more watery. Ianto reached forward, stroking the back of Gwil's neck as he gently tipped the liquids into his mouth. Gwil coughed a little after the red one, but swallowed them both down.

            Overcome by the sudden urge to hold him, Ianto crawled into bed with Gwil and pulled him close, stroking his sweaty hair as he hummed soothing nonsense. Jack returned then, holding a bowl of cereal in one hand and a cup of water in the other. “Is this okay?”

            Ianto looked at the bowl. “Do you think he'll be able to stomach the milk?”

            Jack shrugged. “There's not much here.”

            Ianto reached out his free hand for the bowl, nudging Gwil into alertness. “Come on, Gwil. Take a few mouthfuls of this before you fall asleep.”

            A soft groan wrenched Ianto's heart, and a raspy voice whispered: “My throat hurts.”

            Ianto looked helplessly at Jack. The other man joined them on the bed, rubbing Gwil's duvet-covered leg encouragingly. “Can't you just take a few bites? Three? For me and your tad?”

            With a small nod Gwil opened his mouth, allowing Ianto to guide a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He chewed slowly: like every bite was a struggle. One more spoonful and Ianto set the bowl aside, unable to put Gwil through anymore. “Good job. You can go to sleep, now.” Ianto held up the water from the nightstand. “You have water here if you need it. And Ja-dad and I are just down the hall if you need us.”

            As Ianto made to stand up, a tiny hand darted out from beneath the sheets. “Tad?” Glazed blue eyes stared up at him through a sheen of sweat and pile of blankets. “Stay? Please?”

            Ianto hadn't even realized he had moved by the time he was lying down on the bed, pulling Gwil into his arms. A moment later the bed dipped, Jack climbing over and settling on the other side of Gwil. Ianto gave him a watery smile. “He needs to cool off. His fever will never decrease with a human furnace lying next to him.”

            Jack smiled back. “Just until he falls asleep.”

**

            The next morning came with the sounds of Jack's wrist strap beeping instantly in Ianto's ear. With a groan and an overly loud pop from his back, Ianto glanced around him. He was still in Gwil's bed, Jack curled up on the opposite side with Gwil in between them. Jack's arm was flung across the pillows, fingers curled barely on the shell of Ianto's ear. It was on this arm that Jack's wrist strap was beeping, sounding annoyingly close to Ianto's eardrum.

            Doing his best to avoid waking the other two, Ianto moved his hand down to Gwil's forehead. It was still warm, but nowhere near as hot as it had been that night. Ianto felt the cold pit of fear in his belly start to thaw. Everything would be fine.

            “Ianto?”

            Jack was stirring, hair poking up in all directions as he lifted his head from one of Gwil's pillows. Ianto nodded carefully over at the doorway, and Jack nodded back. With great care the two men slipped from Gwil's bed, Ianto stopping just for a moment to make sure he was properly tucked in before they snuck out.

            Once they were in the kitchen Ianto collapsed against the fridge, letting his eyes slide closed as he swallowed convulsively. Warmth enveloped him as Jack pressed against him, pulling him into a hug. Ianto stayed with his eyes closed, breathing deep Jack's scent as he tried to push away the last remnants of terror from the night. “Come back to bed? Our bed?”

            Ianto sighed, finally opening his eyes as he pushed Jack away. “Can't.” He checked his wristwatch, sighing when he saw it was already seven. “Got to make breakfast, coffee, shower, dress, get the Hub ready, get Gwil his medicine...” Ianto frowned. “Do you know how to make chicken soup?”

            Jack's sheepish grin was all the answer Ianto needed. “I can heat up a can?” he offered.

            Ianto sighed. “So can I. I just thought...maybe from scratch...”

            Before he knew what was happening, Jack had pulled Ianto into a kiss. Ianto tensed before relaxing into it, finding comfort in the smooth warmth of Jack's lips. When they pulled apart Jack ran a hand through Ianto's hair, down the side of his head. “I'm sure canned soup will be good enough for now.”

            “We're terrible at this,” Ianto reasserted.

            Jack shrugged, grin a bit more of its cocksure self. “Us? We're the best.” With one last kiss Jack took off to their bedroom, leaving Ianto to scramble through their cupboards – did they even have canned soup?

Ianto brought Gwil over to Tosh, the little boy following slightly behind him. He was dressed up: wearing slacks, a little button-down shirt, and shiny new shoes. That morning Ianto had started to instruct Gwil on doing up laces. Gwil had picked up surprisingly quickly, copying Ianto exactly on the first try, then repeating it with only the slightest hesitation when Ianto asked him to try again. Ianto had praised him, genuinely impressed by his speed of learning and retention ability.

“Have to learn fast,” Gwil said, shrugging one delicate shoulder. “'therwise, machines or bosses'll getchya.”

In the early light of morning, Ianto had chosen to ignore the statement of fact from Gwil. He did, however, file it away in his mind for future examination. He and Jack might have to have a conversation about it tonight: what Gwil had gone through, if there was anything they should be doing for him to ease the memories.

Ianto smiled at Tosh, tugging Gwil forward so he could look up at her. Sipping her coffee, Tosh turned in her chair and smiled at Ianto, before bending down to share the smile with Gwil. “Hello, Gwil. Are you ready for school?” Gwil nodded quite seriously, shifting the pile of books and papers he had tucked under one arm.

Ianto smiled back up at Tosh. “Jack and I really appreciate you doing this for us. It's not in your job description, but-”

But Tosh was already cutting Ianto off with a light touch to his arm. “Of course I'll help out.” She grinned as she grabbed at her glasses and purse. “Besides, Jack's letting me do this on the clock, so I'm getting paid, too.”

Abruptly, a sudden hesitation to pass Gwil off to Tosh overwhelmed Ianto. He glanced down at the little boy, who was staring up at the two adults patiently, waiting for them to do whatever they might. Ianto bent down and looked Gwil in the eyes. “Be good for Ms. Toshiko.” Gwil nodded. Ianto reached a hand out, hesitating before he ran it over his cheek. Finally he stood, smiling a little tightly at Tosh. “Sorry. Just...”

But Tosh was smiling back understandingly. She patted her purse. “Got weevil spray and my gun in here, plus comms in. Whatever dangers we might run into at the park, I'm sure I can handle it.” She leaned forward and pecked Ianto on the cheek, before holding out her hand for Gwil to take. She patted his tiny hand with her other as they walked to the cog door and out of the Hub. “So your tad wants me to teach you letters and maths...”

Even after the cog door closed resoundingly, Ianto continued to stare after them. A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Ianto spun around to see Jack looking worriedly at him. “I thought you and Owen were out?”

Jack nodded over in the direction of the car park, where Owen was emerging with a body on a stretcher. When he pushed the trolley closer, Ianto could see it was a weevil body. He winced. “No luck sedating it, then.”

Owen shook his head. “Strangest thing: I think it had an allergic reaction to the weevil spray.” As he spoke, Ianto helped Owen maneuver it down into the autopsy bay and transfer to the table. Owen gestured at the weevil's face as he pulled on gloves and got his tools ready. “See how its eyes are swollen shut? And its mouth is puffy. To me, it's got all the hallmarks of anaphylactic shock.”

Ianto nodded, pulling his notepad out of his inside jacket pocket. “I'll make a note of it, see if there aren't any other recorded incidents similar to this.” Finishing scribbling himself a note in shorthand, Ianto nodded. “Make sure you get me the full report with your findings?”

Absently Owen hummed, already absorbed in opening up the weevil. Ianto turned around to see Jack watching them from the observation deck. Ianto climbed the stairs to him, nodding discreetly at the office. Without a word, Jack shoved his hands into his pockets and followed.

Once the door to the office clicked shut behind them, Ianto turned to Jack, burying his face in Jack's neck. He felt Jack stiffen against him for a moment, before a hand reached up and rubbed at his back, squeezing him close. “Hey, hey. He's just with Tosh for a few hours.”

Ianto pulled back, blue eyes clouded as they looked into Jack's. “I know. I just...worry.”

Jack tugged him away from the door, leading him over to his desk. “Well, that's why you're such a good tad.” With a quick poke at the display screen behind his desk and wink at Ianto, Jack pulled up some CCTV footage. “And this it what makes me such a good dad.”

Ianto leaned over Jack, drinking in the sight of Gwil and Toshiko making their way to a picnic table on the edge of the park. Even as a smile forced its way onto Ianto's face, he couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at Jack and mutter: “Using government technology to spy on your son makes you a good dad?”

Jack just grinned, sitting down on his desk. He cleared a place next to him, pushing papers aside and stacking them capriciously across the desk. Making sure to look pointedly at the mess Jack was making, Ianto sat down next to him. They put their feet up on Jack's leather chair, shoulders pressed against each other's as they observed the silent images of Toshiko and Gwil sitting down and spreading paper out in front of them.

Just as Ianto was thinking he really ought to get some work done, rather than spy on his son – or at least get them some coffee and biscuits – there was a knock at the door. Jack shouted “Come in!” over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the screen. The door swung open, and Ianto turned around in time to see Gwen poke her head in, smiling.

“Not interrupting anything naughty, am I?”

“Only by the most boring definition of naughty, I'm afraid,” Ianto joked.

Gwen snuck over to the monitor, looking at it. “Is that Tosh and Gwil?”

Ianto nodded. “Tosh is going to teach him letters and maths, so he can attend classes next autumn.”

Gwen suddenly cooed at the screen. Ianto turned back in time to see Gwil organizing big flashcards with fruits on it: one orange, two apples, three pears, &c. He seemed to be doing fairly well – an observation which inspired a swell of pride in Ianto. The pride was quickly tempered by a sharp pain flaring through his arm as Gwen punched him, gesturing at the screen. “Why does Tosh get to have all the fun? I want to play with him!”

Next to him, Jack snorted. “He's not a toy, Gwen.”

Gwen ribbed him back. “I know that, Jack.” She rolled her eyes and pointed at the two men. “But how much sunlight does he get down here, hm? How much exercise? Little boys need to run out in the open! You can't keep him cooped up in this dank place.”

Ianto turned to Gwen, eyeing her suspiciously. “Why are you so interested?”

Suddenly growing an appreciation for her nails, Gwen stared at them before sighing dramatically. “Alright!” She wrung her hands. “I was thinking Rhys and I could take him out, just to a fête or something, and I might get a chance to see how Rhys is with him.” She pointed an accusing finger at Ianto as he raised an eyebrow. “And don't start with me! If you two can have kids, so can the rest of us!”

Jack perked up at this, leaning forward to look at Gwen on the other side of Ianto. “Are you pregnant?”

“What? No!” Gwen's hands flew to her stomach, as though the very question might make it so. “Just...” she glared, though a little coy smile ruined the effect, “Rhys might have mentioned it, a few times...”

“We do have a maternity leave policy, you know.” Even as he said it, Ianto was running through scenarios. If Gwen was off active duty, he'd have to be on. Which means Gwen would be left at the Hub with Gwil. He winced. It wasn't that he didn't trust Gwen...he'd just rather himself or Jack be around in case of an emergency.

Gwen waved her hands at Ianto, jangling bracelets bringing him back to the present. “Plus, I want to be the fun Aunt Gwen. Please? I've always wanted to be a fun aunt, but with no brothers or sisters...”

Jack made the decision for them, reaching over and pulling Gwen down onto the desk, so she could watch the CCTV with them. “Gwen, I herby add 'fun aunt' to your job title. Ianto: make a note of it.” Ianto rolled his eyes but smiled at Gwen. It was all well-intentioned, after all. And she was right: Gwil did need to get outside more often. Between taking care of the Hub and taking care of Jack – and all of Jack's unique needs – Ianto could use some help making sure Gwil led a full and healthy life.

He nudged Gwen's shoulder with his own. “D'you think you could take him out next weekend? Rift willing?”

Gwen nodded, wide grin reveal the gap in her teeth. “Sure! The church down the street from our flat is having a fête this weekend! We can take him to eat pies and maybe get something cute from the jumble; he could play some of the games – maybe even get his face painted!”

Ianto was abruptly tugged the opposite direction back Jack pulling on his arm. “I think he just did an addition problem! Look!”

For the next ten minutes the three adults sat, entranced by the CCTV, until Owen's shouting for coffee and an odd police report sent them all hurrying off in different directions.

**

Ianto was waiting for Toshiko and Gwil in the Tourist Office when they came back. Gwil ran through the door and around the counter, leaping into Ianto's outstretched arms. “Tad! Tad! Ms. Tosh-ko taught me loads!”

After a tight hug, Ianto pushed Gwil away so he could look him in the eye. “Did she?” he shared a quick look at Toshiko, who was smiling down at the two of them.

“He's an extraordinarily fast learner.” She nodded at Gwil. “Aren't you going to show Ia- your tad what you did?”

Gwil's eyes widened, and he moved back from Ianto. With the awkward care of a young child, Gwil set his books and papers down on the ground, riffling through them until he pulled out a brightly colored piece of paper. “Ms. Tosh-ko made me draw my family. And I labeled it, too. Look!” Gwil was pointing almost violently at the painfully scrawled words above each person in the picture. “I made letters!”

As much as Ianto wanted to critically examine the page – look for how his motor skills seemed, ask Toshiko about his ability to retain information, &c. – all he could do was tear up as he clasped the page in shaking hands. There, in bright, primary colored crayon, was Jack, Ianto, Gwil, and Myfanwy. They appeared to be in the Hub, if the dark background and tall objects were anything to go by. Ianto had a vague niggling at the back of his mind that normally kids drew grass and trees and a sun in a blue sky. Maybe it was a good thing Gwen was taking him outside this weekend.

Jack was drawn with spiky, light brown hair. He was dressed in blue, which Ianto could only assume was supposed to represent his greatcoat. Gwil was in the middle, small and smiling. He was holding on both Jack's and Ianto's hands. Ianto had darker hair, same as picture-Gwil's. His outfit seemed to be sort of just a block of black and red. Ianto supposed it was probably normal for a seven-year-old to have problems drawing a three-piece suit. Myfanwy was above the three of them, flying through the air as a green blur.

Ianto opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying desperately to bring himself well enough under control to speak. Toshiko, bless her, touched Gwil's shoulder encouragingly. “Why don't you tell your tad about it?”

Gwil poked at the paper, pointing out each labeled item. “That's dad in his big coat. See: D-A-D. And there's me: G-W-I-L. And there's you, tad: T-A-D. And Myfanwy is up there, but I didn't label it 'cause Ms. Tosh-ko said she didn't know how to spell it.” Gwil looked up at Toshiko, as if seeking confirmation of this.

She nodded, smiling sheepishly down at Ianto. “Haven't lived in Wales quite long enough to get the hang of the alphabet, I'm afraid.”

With a quick cough to clear his throat, Ianto opened his eyes wide in an effort to erase the tears. “That's so good, Gwil. Why don't you take it down to show dad, and in a minute I'll come down and help you spell Myfanwy, okay?” Gwil beamed up at Ianto, giving him another big hug. Ianto closed his eyes, willing his heart to calm and his emotions to stop pulling him every which way. Then Gwil was dashing away, down the lift and into the Hub.

With a shaky exhale, Ianto wiped his hands and stood, smiling wetly at Tosh. He clasped his hands together and rubbed them, as if that would somehow calm him. “So. How'd he do?”

To his shock, Ianto was pulled into a hug by Tosh. After a moment of awkward back-patting on Ianto's part, she pulled away. He looked at her carefully. “You don't have a new psychic piece of jewelry, do you? Earrings, this time?”

Tosh laughed, but gripped at Ianto's arm all the same, rubbing it in what he assumed she thought was a reassuring manner. “No, Ianto. But it doesn't take a psychic to see this is tough. After all, you are the youngest of any of us. And you have a kid!”

Ianto shrugged, feeling his face grow hot. “Well, Jack is the oldest by centuries, so I suppose it balances out.” Tosh continued to look at him, and Ianto felt himself grow even redder. What was Toshiko thinking? Because he was twenty-six he couldn't have a kid? His sister had two by his age, and plenty of his old mates were starting families. And this was Torchwood, after all: stranger things had happened.

Ianto settled on a thin smile, clasping his hand over Toshiko's still gripping his arm. “Really, Tosh: I'm fine. I'm just worried about his development, is all.”

Tosh gave him one last concerned look, before pulling out a legal pad. “His development is fine. Quite speedy, all things considered. Obviously he's behind in everything, but given a year...” Tosh shrugged. “There's no telling after just one day. If I had to just guess, I'd say he'll be fine. But that's just a guess,” she cautioned.

Ianto let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as they headed down to the Hub. He had been worried there would be some dramatic, noticeable problems with his brain development due to mill life. Something like an inability to reproduce basic shapes, or dyslexia, or a mental block for abstracted numbers. He had read an article once in uni about a town in Mexico or Costa Rica or somewhere, where the children couldn't reproduce the human form in drawings because of poisoning from pesticides. The pictures the children had drawn were disturbing: disjointed sticks and circles, sometimes just random squiggles across the page. The other kids their same age drew basic two armed, two legged people. The images from the article had flashed through Ianto's mind as he had watched Gwil get out his crayons on the CCTV earlier that day.*

But when Gwil had handed Ianto the drawing, an immense sense of relief had washed over him. It was perfectly fine. A bit substandard, but then again Gwil only had nine fingers and had worked in a mill most his life – allowances had to be made.

“Ianto!”

Ianto blinked, eyes focusing on Jack after just a moment. He was waving at Ianto, holding the picture in one hand and gesturing to it. “Did you see?”

Ianto hurried over to Jack, smiling softly. “I did.”

Jack was beaming. “We have quite the little artist, don't we?” With one arm Jack scooped Gwil up, who giggled and buried his face in Jack's neck. Jack turned back to Ianto, still clutching the picture in his other hand. “I was thinking: fridge?”

Ianto blinked, staring down at the picture. A wider grin spread across his face, until he had to duck down to hide it. He had never even thought about that: displaying Gwil's work on their refrigerator. But that's what parents did, wasn't it? Ianto peered back up at Jack. “Perfect.” He held his arms out, and Jack passed a squirming Gwil to him. “I promised to teach you how to spell Myfanwy, didn't I?” Gwil nodded, holding out his hand for the paper. Jack passed it to him, pulling them both in for a quick kiss before they set off: Gwil on his forehead, Ianto on the lips.

Jack winked as he pulled away. “Going to talk to Tosh. Closing up the Tourist Office?”

Ianto nodded. “One more hour, then I'll be down.”

Ianto waited as Jack held up a hand and spun around, clearly looking for something. He turned on the spot, until he stopped, bounding over to his desk and snatching something from it. He jogged back, pressing a stack of paper and box of crayons into Gwil's hands. He looked Gwil in the eyes as he said: “I want a full fridge worth of pictures by the end of the week, got it?”

Gwil nodded, quite serious in his determination. “'K, dad.”

With one last kiss for Ianto and ruffled hair for Gwil, Jack headed over to Toshiko. Ianto adjusted Gwil in his arms – as small and light as he was, he wasn't exactly a toddler – and started back up to the lift with him. Crayons rattled in their box as they went.

 

*This is a real thing. If you want to see the pictures Ianto is thinking of, go here: http://superiorsites3.com/NNSp03Porter.htm . The site also contains a quick overview of the situation surrounding the study.

 

Owen peered out from the autopsy bay, toward the coffee machine. His eyes were just under the railing, peaking out as he tried to look without being noticeable. He could see it from around the water tower from here, though just barely.

Most mornings, Owen was interested in the coffee machine from a purely survivalist point of view: he needed coffee to live, and therefore needed to know when Ianto would be getting it to him. This morning, however, was different. This morning he was worried for his life not because of lack of coffee, but because of who was brewing it.

Owen watched as Gwil trotted over the coffee machine, smart little shoes clacking on the metal grated floors of the Hub. Ianto and Jack were watching from Jack's office completely unsubtly. Jack was actually leaning on the doorframe and craning his neck to try and see around the water tower. Owen watched as Ianto excused himself, hurrying away. Ducking back down as he walked past, Owen watched Ianto step smartly up the stairs, in the direction of the hothouse. Owen wasn't fooled. He could hear those footsteps stop well before the hothouse, and could just imagine Ianto looking down at Gwil from his new vantage point.

Speaking of which...Owen turned his attention back to what he could see of the coffee machine. Over the hum of computers and squawk of Myfanwy, Owen imagined he could faintly hear the sound of the machine starting to brew, steaming and rattling around the way it did. His eyebrows lowered as he continued to stare. This could never end well.

**

This whole debacle had started less than a week ago. At least, that was when Owen had first noticed the stool.

The stool had appeared one morning, innocuously taking up residence next to the coffee machine. Owen had only noticed because he was grabbing a sample of Randeran bile out of the fridge to test its acidity levels. Just happening to glance down, Owen had spotted it: a little, wooden, collapsable stool, folded up and tucked away to the side of the coffee machine. That first day, Owen had thought nothing of it: it was a stool, there were things up high, case solved. It wasn't until the second time that Owen encountered the stool that he realized something was about to go horribly, horribly wrong.

Owen had been strolling over to the snack cabinets above the fridge, hoping to find a biscuit or two to tide him over until lunch. His shin caught on something, and he cursed, clutching it in pain. “What the fucking hell?!”

Owen glanced down sharply, to see the stool sitting out. Ianto had rushed over, dragging Gwil behind him and apologizing as he made Gwil put it away. But Owen stopped them both, grabbing Gwil's wrist as he reached for the stool. “Wait. Wait a minute.” He stared at the stool on the ground. It was covered in loopy, slightly-messy letters, painted on by some hesitant hand. It read “Gwil”.

Turning to look at Ianto, Owen gaped. “Don't tell me you're letting the tyke near the coffee machine?” Lest someone get the wrong idea and think Owen concerned for Ianto's continued coffee-machine dependent happiness, Owen continued. “I mean, just don't want to get poisoned because he confused alien semen with the creamer.”

Judging by the absolutely horrified look on Ianto's face, Owen had put the fear of God in him. Or at least the fear of alien semen-flavored coffee. But then Ianto was wrapping his hand around Gwil's shoulder confidently. “Gwil knows what he's doing.” Owen scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows. Ianto just stared back steadily, until a sly little grin crossed his face. “He's prepared your coffee for the last three days, actually. I just supervised.”

Briefly Owen ran through the taste of the coffee in his mind for the past three days. He couldn't recall a difference. Still: “I knew there was something off! I thought it was just you being too tired to stand, but turns out, it's because mini-Ianto was preparing it!”

Ianto's eyes narrowed, and Owen knew he must have struck a nerve. He leaned back, just a bit. Ianto with Gwil was like a mum bear with her cubs: terrifying and hairy. “Jack and I have personally taste-tested all of Gwil's brews, and they are well up to our standards.” Owen started to scoff again, but Ianto leaned in before he completed the derisive noise. “And if you think it's that terrible: there's always instant.”

**

Thus, Owen was watching, with bated breath, as Gwil trekked over to the coffee machine for his first completely solo batch.

There were several long minutes of clattering and brewing, steam coming out of the machine as Gwil hopped on and off his stool to get the things he needed. Owen continued to glare at the machine. How could a seven-year-old work it at all? Hell, he couldn't work it, and he was a fully skilled surgeon. There was no way little Gwil would manage.

Tosh and Gwen came in during the interval, cheerily announcing good morning to everyone as they set about sorting their workload. After a quick systems check, Tosh walked over to Owen, crouching down delicately in her skirt. “Nervous?”

Owen shot her a look, smirking and shaking his head. “For my taste buds? Yeah. But if it's shite, I'll just upend it over Ianto's head.”

Tosh nodded, tapping a finger to her chin in mock-contemplation. “I suppose that might get the message across.” She paused before continuing. “Rather unsubtle though, don't you think?”

Owen twitched his eyebrows moodily. “Not subtle enough, if Ianto really thinks this is a good idea.”

He was rewarded with an awkward pat on his shoulder by Tosh, who then stood up and went back over to her workstation. “It's going to be fine,” she reassured him.

But it wasn't going to be fine. Owen was sure of it. The little munchkin was going to ruin the only thing Ianto did right around this blasted place. Well, the only thing Ianto did right for Owen. He suspected Ianto did a good many things right for Jack, if the continuance of their...whatever they had...was any indication.

A sudden stillness filled the Hub, jerking Owen out of his thoughts. The coffee machine was quiet.

God save them all.

Owen glared from under the railing as the distinctive noise of ceramics clinking on a silver tray reached his ears. Gwil slowly came into view, carrying the tray with both hands as he tottered across the metal-grated floor. He stopped at Toshiko's desk first, nodding his head at her mug since he couldn't lift it up himself. She took it, thanking him politely and stroking his hair. Gwen jogged over, then, coming up from some of the lower levels. She took her mug from the tray with a big, gaped-tooth smile as she thanked Gwil.

Then it was Owen's turn.

For a moment as Gwil started over to his autopsy bay, Owen had the sudden urge to look busy, in order to disguise the fact that he had been spying. Then he remembered this was just a seven-year-old boy, and stood his ground.

Above him, Gwil paused at the railing, glancing over at the stairs and down at Owen. After a minute's consideration, Gwil turned, making to walk down the stairs with the tray. Owen sighed, scrambling over and holding his hands out. “No. Wait. Don't need you tripping down the stairs and busting your head open.” Owen jogged up the stairs to Gwil, taking his mug off the tray so quickly that Gwil had to fight to keep it balanced. “Don't need your dads screaming at me as I'm trying to patch up your skull.”

Owen winked as he said it, meaning it to be a joke, but Gwil just lowered his eyes and nodded. With a slight wobble, the little boy turned, heading over to Jack's office next.

Owen sighed, subconsciously taking a sip of his coffee as he watched the little figure walk carefully away. Jack really needed to influence the kid more: take him out to sports, cinema, maybe eat some junk – Owen reeled as delicious coffee flooded his taste buds. Startled, he started down at the coffee, trying to convince his brain that it wasn't Ianto's. But it tasted just like Ianto's. Absolutely identical. Owen glared at Gwil's back, who was now offering his tray to Jack. He took his coffee with a big, goofy grin, ruffling Gwil's hair and tugging on his earlobe for good measure. Hearing footsteps behind him, Owen spun around to see Ianto stepping off the stairs and down to the main Hub. A proud little smile was graced his lips.

“Good, Owen?”

Owen sputtered. What could he say? Finally he settled on a noncommittal shrug. “It'll keep me awake, I suppose. Best I can hope for, isn't it?” He then stomped back down into his autopsy bay, fiddling with saws and scalpels as he listened in on Jack and Ianto.

“Well?” he heard Ianto ask Jack. “Is it up to standards?”

Owen felt a small thrill of satisfaction at the slight nervous note in Ianto's voice.

“Oh, Ianto! It's perfect! Identical to yours. Well...” Owen practically leaned backwards trying to hear Jack's caveat. “Identical to your normal coffee, at least.”

The leer in Jack's voice left no room for speculation as to what sort of “special” coffee he might be thinking of. Owen gagged.

Jack was continuing. “You've turned Gwil into quite the little barista.”

Owen heard Ianto's self-satisfied hum, and could only assume he was taking a sip of his coffee. Pounding back a mouthful of his own, Owen tried to ignore how perfect it was.

“Don't forget you have to feed Myfanwy at eleven,” Owen heard Ianto say, presumably to Gwil. Owen took another large swallow of his coffee.

“Doctor Owen?”

Owen spun around, only to come face-to-face with Gwil, who was crouching by the railings and leaning his head through them. “What?” Owen asked slightly more harshly than he might have. After all, the kid did call him “Doctor”. No one did that around here.

“Do you need more?”

Owen glanced down to his hand, where he was clenching an empty coffee mug. With great reluctance he let his eyes drift up to Ianto, who was standing in Jack's doorway looking insufferably smug. With a growl Owen shoved the mug at Gwil. “Well, go on then. Least you're pulling your own weight around here.”

Owen turned back to his work with the sound of Jack's chuckle filling the Hub.

The coffee really was that good, though.

 

Ianto moaned, threading his hands through Jack's hair as his head bobbed up and down between Ianto's legs. Fuck, Jack's mouth was absolutely amazing. Ianto arched into that wet heat as Jack sank down again, tonguing the vein on the underside enthusiastically. “Jack, Jack,” Ianto tapped at Jack's head. With slow deliberateness Jack pulled off, staring at Ianto the whole time with lusty eyes. The tension in Ianto's body eased as Jack's lips finally slid off the head with a soft pop. Ianto smiled down at Jack. “Sorry. But if you want to actually have sex, I had to stop you there.”

Jack winked. “It's fine. I know how orgasm-inducing my mouth is.”

If he hadn't been so right, Ianto might have said something. But as it was, Ianto just pulled Jack up into a kiss, sighing as their erections met.

“Hey, Ianto?” Ianto blinked staring up at Jack. He smiled a little sheepishly. “Do you mind if I top tonight?”

Staring up at Jack, Ianto raised his eyebrows but nodded quickly. “Of course, Jack.” It might be different from their normal routine, but it wasn't like Ianto minded Jack fucking him. Not in the least. In fact, sometimes it was preferable to let Jack do all the work for a change.

Jack shifted above Ianto, reaching over to the side table to grab the lube. With a smirk he held the tube away from Ianto, waggling his eyebrows as he drifted back down. “Legs up.”

Ianto sighed contentedly as he lifted his legs, resting his calves on Jack's shoulders and back. Jack tugged him down a little bit, pulling them closer together. Between the Rift and Gwil, it wasn't often anymore that they got to have long, relaxing sex; more often than not now they subsisted off the mutual shower wank or quick fuck between sleep and running themselves ragged. Ianto could see why Jack wanted to be on top tonight: he wanted to make sure they took their time and enjoyed every minute of it.

When Ianto felt hot wetness press against his entrance, he arched and groaned. “Ah, Jack.” Jack's tongue swiped a few firm strokes against the puckered flesh, causing Ianto to moan and reach down to tangle his fingers in Jack's hair. “Mm, Jack. 'S nice...” The tongue pressed in, past the tight muscles to stroke at the hot passage within. Ianto cried out, fingers twisting and clenching at Jack's hair as he tongue-fucked him with smooth, even strokes.

“Fuck, Jack, please...” Relaxing and taking their time was well and good, but Ianto needed Jack now.

With a grin Jack pulled away, wiping the back of his hand across his lips. “Good thing we got the walls soundproofed, huh?”

Ianto knew his smiling expression was entirely too debauched and stupid-happy, but he couldn't stop himself. “So good. Now please, Jack?” Ianto slid a hand down himself, reaching for his arousal lying heavy on his stomach. Jack stopped him with a hand around his wrist, even as he uncapped the lube with his other.

“Alright, Ianto. I've got you.” Jack leaned forward to clutch at Ianto and kissed him as he pushed a single slicked digit inside. Ianto relaxed against the finger easily, muscles already gooey with satisfaction. Another finger quickly followed the first, stretching and loosening the muscles. Ianto canted down on the fingers, rocking against them steadily as he reached down and encouraged a third. It pushed in, burning more than the first two as Jack carefully move it in and out. Ianto broke the kiss, turning his head to the side as he focused on relaxing beneath Jack. A firm hand wrapping around his cock helped matters, as did Jack's lips on his neck. “Good?”

Ianto undulated against the fingers one, two, three times before nodding. “Good, Jack.”

Finally Jack's hot arousal replaced his fingers, pushing into Ianto fuller, better – oh so much better – than his fingers could. Ianto pushed down, sheathing Jack inside, as he let out a deep, throaty moan. As they began to move together, Ianto felt all his worries, stress, and anxieties melt away as his entire world narrowed to their bed, Jack, and the feel of Jack inside him. Jack's thrusts were firm and powerful, pushing Ianto up against the pillows with each plunge in.

Jack's fingers dug into Ianto's flanks and arse, pulling him closer and holding him firm as he increased the pace of his thrusts. Ianto reached down and covered Jack's hand with his own. Each thrust sent Ianto spiraling further and further toward that perfect completion, drawing his body tauter and tauter with anticipation. “Oh, Jack,” he moaned.

“Ianto,” Jack whispered back.

“Tad?”

“Fuck!” Ianto shoved Jack off of him, practically throwing him off the bed. They scrambled apart, clutching at blankets and pillows as Ianto pushed himself upright to face the bleary-eyed little boy standing in their doorway.

For a split second Ianto silently bemoaned the loss of the fantastic orgasm he had been chasing. The moment passed, leaving him staring, red-faced and sweaty, at a scared little boy. Jack spoke first, already slipped into a pair of boxers and walking over to the boy in the doorway. “What's up, champ?”

“Bad dream,” Gwil murmured, staring down at the floor. Hesitantly he glanced up at Jack, then over at Ianto. “Is Tad okay?”

Ianto frowned. “I'm fine. Why? Did something happen in your dream?” Ianto climbed out of bed with the blanket wrapped around him, settling on his haunches in front of Gwil. “Because it's just a dream. It can't hurt you.” Ianto thought he was a rather wise father to not mention the alien parasite that burrowed into a person's mind and manifested REM sleep to the point that nightmares could indeed kill. He could save that discussion for later.

But Gwil was shaking his head, turning to point at Jack. “I thought Dad hurted you. You made hurt noises.”

Ianto was fairly certain he had never turned so red in all his life, and was willing to put a great deal of money that he never would again. Above them, Jack started laughing before Ianto could stop him. Ianto smiled thinly at Gwil. “No. We were...erm...doing grown-up things. Nice grown-up things.”

Gwil's eyes widened. “Oh. You were doing the thing the big kids do behind the factory. The int-ah-thing.” Gwil frowned, glancing back over at the bed. “Thought you had to stand.”

Ianto tugged at his earlobe, deciding to address one issue at a time. “Intercourse?” he ventured.

Gwil nodded, quite serious. “Yes.”

Jack was busy being the least serious person in the room, chuckling to himself as he observed the mayhem. Ianto stood up suddenly, pushing the other man toward the kitchen. “Why don't you make Gwil some hot cocoa and give him the talk.” Ianto plucked at the sheet covering him. “I'll get into something more appropriate.”

Jack winked as he herded Gwil in front of him, closing their bedroom door behind them.

Ianto, not wanting to leave Gwil alone for too long with Jack when he had just given him permission to talk sex, quickly shucked on a dressing gown and tossed the sheet back on the bed. With one last glance down at his flaccid penis – he suppressed the urge to pat it comfortingly – Ianto hurried out into the kitchen.

“So that's with a women. But your tad and I don't have a vagina, because we're both men. So instead, we use our ass for sex.”

Ianto slid into the chair next to Jack, letting his head fall to the table with a quiet thump. “Don't suppose you made me some tea?”

Something warm slid closer to his head over the table. Ianto peeked out cautiously, to see a nice, steaming cuppa next to him. Jack smiled. “To tide you over.”

Taking a sip, Ianto sighed. He wrapped his hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth seeping into his palms. Fall was settling in, and alien technology or no, some of the damp reached them in Jack's bunker. Ianto watched as Jack turned back to a wide-eyed Gwil. “Where was I?” Gwil looked ready to open his mouth, but Jack waved his hand and started up again. “Right, right: the ass. See, the same way a woman has a clitoris, a man has a special spot inside him: his prostate. That's located in the ass. Well, specifically,” Jack started to gesture, so Ianto reached over and covered Jack's hand with his own.

“I think we'll leave him to figure the specifics of it for himself if the situation ever comes up, yeah?”

Jack shrugged. “Fine. But remember how much instruction you needed to first time you tried to-”

“Jack!” Ianto hissed. He knew he should have never left Jack to this conversation.

But Jack was already turning back to Gwil, ready to explain more. “So, when two men have sex, one of the men puts his penis in the asshole of the other, just like when it's a man and a woman and the man puts his penis in the woman's vagina.” He paused, cocking his head. “Do you think he needs to know the mechanics of lesbian sex? It could come in handy...”

Ianto thumped his mug down on the table, staring pointedly at Jack. “Conversation best left for later, I would think.”

Jack mock-pouted. “Well at least let me explain tentacles to him.”

“Right. That's education enough for tonight.” Ianto reached his hands out and covered Gwil's with his own. His thumb subconsciously rubbed over the scarred skin from Gwil's mill accident. “Do you understand everything? That dad wasn't hurting me? It was...nice?” Ianto hesitated, glancing over at Jack. He was never one to stroke Jack's ego – man didn't need any help – but he wanted to make sure Gwil was reassured. “I liked what dad and I were doing: you understand?”

Gwil nodded firmly. “Yes. I seen sex 'fore. Just thought you had to stand.”

Ianto blushed, while at the same time trying to glare at Jack so he wouldn't say another word. He finally settled on: “Only if you want to. You can lie down, too.”

This seemed to settle the issue for Gwil, and he took a last gulp of his cocoa before taking it carefully over to the sink. He couldn't wash the mug himself yet – not being high enough to see over the counter – but he placed it next to the sink and pushed it back, away from the edge. He turned back to the two men, wrapping his arms around Ianto first, before moving on to Jack and hugging him as well. “Night: Tad, Dad.” Gwil seemed to have forgotten entirely about his nightmare as he padded quietly back to his room, hand held to his mouth as he nibbled at the scarred space. Ianto noticed that he had started doing that absently when he was thinking.

Jack's warm chuckle started up again as soon as the door shut to Gwil's bedroom. Ianto quickly put a stop to it, rising from his chair and settling in Jack's lap, kissing him soundly. Jack hummed into the kiss, and when Ianto eventually pulled away, his eyes had lost their mirth and gained a sparkle of lust. With a coy look, Ianto rose, glancing back over at Jack as he headed to their bedroom. “Coming back to bed?”

Jack was out of his seat in an instant, bounding over to Ianto and wrapping him up in his arms. “We can talk to him more later, right? Because I didn't get to blow jobs, or frotting, or-”

Ianto sighed, shutting – and locking – the door behind them. “I don't think he needs to know all of that yet. He's only seven.”

But Jack was kissing Ianto's neck, nibbling and licking at the sensitive flesh there. “You didn't let me finish. I was going to say: I hadn't even gotten to blow jobs, frotting, or rimming, even.” Ianto melted against the door as Jack's tongue started to lave its way down his body. After a single swipe up his shaft, Jack glanced back up at Ianto. “Don't you think that's important?”

Reaching down, Ianto hauled Jack up by his shoulders and backed him up to the bed. They fell down onto it together, Ianto grinding against Jack like some horny teenager. “It's important, Jack,” Ianto reassured him, crawling up the mattress until he was nestled on a pile of pillows, splayed for Jack's appreciation on his back. Somewhere between door and bed Ianto's dressing gown and Jack's boxers had disappeared, and Ianto drank in the view of Jack's hard cock bobbing between his legs as he climbed up to Ianto. “Just, maybe not at seven.”

Ianto hissed as Jack licked another stripe up his shaft, lips closing around the head of his increasingly-interested penis as he began to suck lightly. To Ianto's infinite annoyance, Jack released him with a quiet pop, grinning up at him maddeningly. “How about at twenty-six?”

Ianto pushed Jack's head back down, earning him a laugh from the other man. “Yes, yes: very important then.” Ianto's eyes fluttered closed as Jack hauled his legs up and dove between them, wet, hot tongue lapping at his still-stretched entrance. As that tongue slowly pressed inside of him, Ianto moaned and sighed, clutching first at the bedsheets and then at Jack's hair. His hips undulated down onto Jack, thrusting lazily against that tongue and those lips. Jack's strong arms kept their grip under Ianto's thighs, pulling him apart as he pushed his tongue even further into him. Ianto cried out as that tongue and mouth penetrated him, drawing his muscles tighter toward climax.

Sure that Jack would pull away soon and enter him properly, Ianto was caught off-guard by the slick finger that slipped in alongside Jack's tongue. Ianto cried out again, louder, as Jack's tongue continued to lap at his passageway even as his finger pushed against that perfect spot within him. “Jack, Jack, can't...please...” Ianto wasn't sure if he was beginning for release or for Jack to stop, but Jack seemed to know exactly what he wanted. The first finger was replaced by a second, the two of them pressing and massaging at the gland deep inside of him, sending sparks of pleasure through his system. Jack's tongue just inside his entrance was a slow burn compared to the flashes of fire his fingers were producing. It was through the haze of pleasure that this onslaught was wringing out of him that Ianto came, shouting hoarsely as he folded in on himself, body shaking as muscles spasmed through the the intolerable pleasure.

Ianto's head lolled to the side, his entire body loose-limbed and satiated. His eyes fluttered open, to be greeted by the sight of Jack looking incredibly pleased with himself. Ianto blinked, slowly, before reaching a hand down to rub Jack's forearm. “Go on,” he said, canting his hips up. “You still need to get off.”

Slowly, Jack's grin broadened, until Ianto felt his stomach clench at the sight. If Jack's wicked grin was anything to go by, that was only to be his first orgasm of a very, very long night.

 

Next part of story - Part 2

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