Title: From the Heart
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 11
Prompt: 36, Poetry
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor sighed as Ianto put the book of poetry that they'd been quoting to each other from aside, smiling up at his young lover. "What it is about love poetry that can always make me feel calm?" he asked, snuggling into his boyfriend's arms.

"I think most people feel the same way when they read poetry," Ianto told him, smiling and bowing his head to brush a gentle kiss across the Time Lord's brow. "There's something about it that's .... I don't know, relaxing, I suppose."

The Doctor idly traced a heart on Ianto's forearm with one finger, glancing at the book. "Especially when it's Shakespeare. Those love sonnets are supposed to have been written to a man, you know. Which makes them rather apt, in our case."

Ianto laughed, nodding in agreement with the Doctor's words. "Yes, I'd always heard that. Though I think a lot of people find it hard to believe."

"I've met Shakespeare, on more than one occasion," the Doctor said, glancing up at Ianto with a wink. "And I can assure you that he definitely plays both cards. Though I do think he seemed to be more interested in my companion at the time than in me."

The young man couldn't help laughing again; the Doctor was actually pouting, his lower lip jutting out, an annoyed expression on his face. "Well, it's a good thing he wasn't interested in you, sweetheart. I'd hate to have to challenge Shakespeare to a duel."

"You'd do that for me?" The Time Lord's voice was soft, husky; he sounded almost choked up at Ianto's words. "You'd fight a duel for me?"

"Of course I would," Ianto told him, tilting the Doctor's face up to his own and stroking gentle fingers down the other man's smooth cheek. "I'd do anything for you, Doctor. You should certainly know that by now."

"I do," the Doctor whispered, raising a hand to place it on Ianto's cheek. "And you know that I'd do the same for you, love. You've already proven that to me -- and I hope the time won't come when we're in a position where I'll have to prove it to you."

Ianto couldn't repress a slight shiver, thinking of the last time he'd been called upon to prove his devotion to the Time Lord. It was something that he hadn't thought about for a while, but there was always something -- some word, some gesture -- that could bring it all back.

"I know what you're thinking of, Ianto," the Doctor said softly, sighing and letting his hand fall away. "It's something that should never have happened, and there are times when I still feel guilty about it. I think about it more than I should, too."

"We both need to put it behind us," Ianto said firmly, his voice coming out stronger than he'd thought it would. "It's the past; it's over and done. We can't change it."

The Doctor nodded, moving closer to Ianto and leaning back against his lover's chest. "I know we do .... but it's hard not to feel guilty. I was so hasty, and I knew even when I was doing it that I was wrong. I was just too proud to say so."

"I feel guilty about it too, you know," Ianto murmured, stroking the Doctor's hair with a gentle hand. "I pushed you into leaving, Doctor. I didn't want to admit it at first -- but it's the truth. We've both made mistakes, but we've corrected them."

The Doctor leaned into Ianto's caress, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh. "Let's just leave it at that, shall we?" he said softly, his voice trembling a little. "We both have our respective guilt, and I don't think it's something we need to keep bringing up."

Ianto couldn't have agreed more; that was a time of their lives that he didn't like thinking about. But still, it seemed to come back to him when he least expected it to.

He firmly pushed the memory to the back of his mind, slamming a mental door on it and locking it away. The Doctor was right; they both had their guilt over this, and they each had to deal with it in their own way.

He was just grateful that it hadn't torn them apart; it would have been so easy for that to happen. He'd expected it to, actually; he'd been so sure when they'd brought the Doctor back from that torture chamber they'd found him in that the Time Lord would turn away from him ....

Ianto pulled the Doctor closer into his arms, brushing his lips against the other man's hair, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of vanilla shampoo and the tang of the Doctor's skin. The Time Lord hadn't pushed him away. He was here, in Ianto's arms, where he belonged.

"What are you thinking?" The Doctor's voice broke into his thoughts, making him open his eyes and sit up a bit straighter against the pillows.

"I'm thinking that we're lucky to be here together -- and that we're both right where we should be. And that I'm not going to let you go, not ever again," Ianto whispered, tilting the Doctor's face up to his own again, his blue-grey gaze meeting those dark eyes.

As always, he was struck by how the Doctor's eyes could mesmerize him. He felt as though he could sink into those fathomless depths forever, let himself drown gladly in that deep brown gaze and never come up for air.

Those were the kind of eyes that people wrote odes to, Ianto thought to himself, a smile tugging at his lips. Even though he'd never been good at poetry, he might actually try to pen some lines about how beautiful his lover was.

The Doctor was regarding him quizzically, as though he was wondering just why Ianto was smiling. "You look as if you've just had an idea," the Time Lord told him, his gaze reproachful. "Do you want to share it with me, or is it something personal?"

"You're the mind reader," Ianto protested, unable to keep himself from laughing aloud. "You should know just what I'm thinking!"

"But you know that I don't pry into people's thoughts -- not even yours!" Now the Doctor was laughing too, the tenseness of just a few moments ago forgotten. "Tell me, Ianto. Judging from the look on your face, you must be thinking good thoughts. Happy thoughts."

"I was just thinking that I could lose myself in your eyes," Ianto told him, his voice softening as he spoke. "I was thinking about how beautiful you are, and how happy I am when I'm with you. And .... how much I love you."

"You could rival Shakespeare when it comes to poetry, Ianto Jones," the Doctor said softly, still smiling. "That's beautiful. I don't know whether to be embarrassed, or flattered. At the moment, I think I'm a little bit of both."

"You should be flattered," Ianto said, trying to look disappointed, but not quite managing to do so. "I've never written poetry for anyone before, you know. Those notes that I left in the Tardis may not have been poetry, but they were a beginning."

"They were poetry to me," the Doctor said, raising his arms to twine them around Ianto's neck and pull his young lover down for a kiss. "Much more so than anything Will could have written. They came from the heart."

Ianto tightened his arms around the Time Lord's waist, letting himself sink into the sensation of kissing the Doctor. This was something he wanted to give his full attention -- after all, the love of his life deserved nothing less.

Though he did make a quick mental note to ask the Doctor later just why he called Shakespeare "Will."

***