Title: Hidden Treasure
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 5
Prompt: 36, Map
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.

***

Ianto slipped beneath the covers of his bed, the bed that he'd ceased to think of as "his" and now thought of as "theirs." The Doctor stirred but didn't awaken, turning his face on the pillow, one arm flung above his head in a gesture of abandon.

The Welshman gazed down at the Time Lord's face, relaxed and vulnerable in sleep. He loved that face. He sometimes felt that he could look at the Doctor all day, losing himself in all the lines and planes that made up those singular features. He'd never seen any face that had so utterly captivated him, none that had drawn him in the way that the Doctor had.

It wasn't just the face, Ianto thought to himself, stretching out a hand to stroke gentle, slightly calloused fingertips down the Doctor's cheek. It was everything about the Gallifreyan, little things that others might not notice but that endeared the Doctor more to his lover with each passing day.

Everything from the way he smiled at Ianto when his eyes fluttered open in the grey dawn of early morning, to the whispered words and a soft kiss goodnight when they fell asleep in each other's arms. The sound of his laughter, the way he would cast little amused glances at Ianto to share a private joke that the rest of the world just wouldn't understand.

It was the way that the heretofore empty, somewhat soulless apartment had been transformed into a real home -- a home that Ianto had never felt that he really had before the Doctor. He frowned, shying away from the area of his life that his thoughts were leading him to. Better to not dwell on that.

Strange how he'd never talked about his family life -- or lack of one -- to his lover. It wasn't that his family had been cold or distant; no, they'd been caring, if less supportive of his choices than Ianto would have wanted them to be. No, it was that they'd been .... unavailable.

Ianto understood that people had busy lives. Of course he did. He was busy himself; it was one of the reasons that he continually gave his family for not spending more time coming to visit them. He simply didn't have the time, he'd explain, feeling relieved when they rang off without pressing the issue.

And now that he was openly in love with a man .... He shook his head, not wanting to face that idea, either. His family had no idea that he was openly bisexual, and they would have been horrified if they knew that he was living with the man he was having a sexual relationship with. He could already hear the muttering about the evils of the life he was leading.

No, it was better that he keep his distance -- and not talk to the Doctor about his family. Besides, he knew that it distressed the Gallifreyan to talk about his home planet and the life that he had led before the one he had now. There were even past incarnations, experiences that had happened in other bodies, that he steadfastly refused to elaborate on.

That was fine with Ianto. He didn't need to know about all of the Doctor's past lives, all the centuries he'd lived through and the things he'd seen. What was the point? It was all in the past -- and what mattered to Ianto was their future together, the life he wanted them to build.

It wouldn't be easy to do that, he knew. The Doctor had responsibilities, things that would take him away from Ianto, throw him directly into situations that his lover wouldn't be able to follow him into. Yet another aspect of being with the Doctor that he'd rather not think about.

Ianto sighed, silently watching the Doctor as he slept. What was the future going to hold for them? He was sure that the Doctor knew; after all, he was a Time Lord. He knew what the future held; he could see it all. But Ianto wasn't at all sure that he wanted to be able to look into his own future and see any of the possibilities that waited for him.

The only possibility that he wanted to consider was the two of them having a life with each other. For Ianto, that was the only future to concentrate on, and he was sure that if the Doctor could see something else in the mists of time, he would somehow manage to let Ianto know of what could happen. There was no way his love would keep something momentous from him.

Or could the advent of their relationship possibly have changed the futures that were in store? He knew that everything he did would have a direct effect on the outcome that the Doctor could visualize, though he wasn't completely sure just how that worked.

Ianto winced, raising a hand to his head. It was complicated stuff, and far too early in the day to wrap his brain around it. The last thing he needed was to start off the day with a headache, even if he was out of the office and could spend the day at home with his lover.

Ianto traced the line of pale freckles across the bridge of the Doctor's nose, following them as if he was looking at the lines of a map. There were more freckles further down the Time Lord's body, tiny dots that moved one by one down his shoulder and stopped right above his right nipple. And more on his stomach, tiny sun kisses that Ianto knew he could follow to a treasure only he was allowed to find.

In fact, the Doctor's entire body was a map, he reflected, his finger tracing that line of freckles down to the juncture of hip and leg. A map that he could go back to again and again, taking his time traversing the terrain but always finding the reward that he was searching for in the end.

He'd never tire of finding the hidden treasures of the Doctor's body, Ianto thought, smiling at the imagery. He was almost tempted to refer to himself as a pirate. After all, he was plundering unknown territory ....

The Doctor stirred again, long lashes fluttering open to reveal dark, sleepy eyes. It took him a few seconds to focus, then the smile that Ianto loved spread across his features as he stretched both arms above his head, his lean body sprawling out beneath the covers.

"Good morning, love." The Time Lord's voice was husky with sleep, the words slightly blurred with early-morning fuzziness. He cleared his throat, propping himself up on his elbow. "What in the world are you looking at?"

"You," Ianto said softly, winding one arm around the slender waist and pulling the Doctor close against the warmth of his own body. "Looking at you and thinking how lovely you are, even at this hour, sleepy eyes and warm skin and completely irresistible."

"Methinks you see me as too much of a prize," the Gallifreyan whispered, the fingers of one hand splaying over Ianto's lips. "I'm quite ordinary, really. Just a bloke who happens to not be from your planet or your time."

"You could never be 'just a bloke,'" the young Welshman replied, his lips hovering within an inch from the softness of the Doctor's mouth. "You're my heart, my soul, the love of my life. And much more than that. My soul mate," he murmured, the intensity of his words surprising them both.

"As you are mine," the Doctor said softly, curling into Ianto's arms. "As you have always been -- even though neither of us knew it for a while."

"I've always known it in my heart." Ianto's voice was soft, the whispered words carrying all the love he felt for this man.

To his surprise, the Doctor's eyes filled with tears.

"That's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me," the Time Lord whispered, the words catching in his throat. Ianto could see him swallowing hard, trying to hold back the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Don't cry, beloved," he said softly, caressing his love's face with his fingertips. "You should get used to hearing words like that coming from me, you know. You'll be hearing them on a regular basis."

"I could never get tired of them," the Time Lord murmured, closing his eyes as his lover's mouth sought his, turning his face up to Ianto's and surrendering himself to the young man's embrace.

"That's good to know." Ianto's voice was husky, seductive. "Because I'll never get tired of saying them -- or of thinking them."

"Enough time for words later," the Doctor breathed, laying back against the pillows and looking up at Ianto with a frankly sensual gaze. "For now, I think we're much better off to let actions speak for themselves, don't you think?"

No more words were needed between the two of them as their lips met.

***