Title: Wake Up
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: 11
Prompt: 17, Content
Author's Note: No, I don't capitalize "Tardis." It's a personal choice to write it like a proper name -- since I happen to think that it has a personality and motivations of its own, I choose to write it more like a character than a machine. I realize it's canon to capitalize it, but this is fanfic. It's for fun, not serious bizness.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

Ianto woke slowly, by degrees, stretching his lean body out beneath the covers. The bed was too warm and comfortable to get up just yet, he thought drowsily, opening his eyes and turning onto his side. His gaze rested on the slender man beside him, smiling as the Doctor murmured softly in his sleep and buried his face against Ianto's shoulder.

How his life had changed since the Doctor had come barreling into his existence. He'd thought that the end of his affair with Jack had been the end of the world -- but instead, it had been the introduction into a whole new one. A world that was a million times better than any other one he could possibly imagine.

Of course, he'd thought that the end of love affairs before had been the end of everything he knew and loved. Ianto resolutely pushed that thought away from his mind. It was the past. Better not to think of that. No, he needed to live in the present.

But he couldn't do that with a Time Lord, could he? Of course he couldn't. He had to be aware of everything around him -- the past, the present, and the future. The Doctor could see it all. That was why he was a Time Lord, Ianto reflected -- the last of them. The only one left. A completely unique creature in the universe.

And he belonged to Ianto -- heart, body and soul.

Ianto let his gaze wander over the slender body clasped in his arms, the long limbs relaxed in sleep, the steady rise and fall of the Doctor's chest. His own heart swelled, a lump forming in his throat.

What had he done in his life to deserve this? Had some deity looked down on him and taken pity on him, deciding to give him this angel from the heavens?

It was unbelievable that he, insignificant Ianto Jones, had managed to capture the Doctor's heart. Hearts, he reminded himself with a smile, laying one hand against the Time Lord's thin chest and feeling the beating of the dual hearts beneath his palm. Both of those hearts beat for him. Somehow, he'd managed to win them.

Ianto propped himself up on his elbow, studying the sleeping Time Lord by his side. Most people probably wouldn't look at the Doctor in the same way that he did; they would only see him as a handsome man, nothing more. They didn't know what he was like.

He didn't want others to know what his love was like. Ianto could feel the stirrings of jealousy in his own heart whenever anyone smiled at the Doctor in too knowing a fashion, whenever he saw anyone else's eyes turned in his love's direction. That had never been a fault of his before he'd fallen for the Time Lord.

His hand moved up, fingers lazily circling one rosy-pink nipple. Ianto dipped his head down to press a soft kiss to the tender little bud, holding his breath as the Doctor stirred. But the Gallifreyan only settled against the pillow again, still slumbering.

His fingertips continued their upward trek, his eyes following. Ianto's gaze traced every curve of the Doctor's face, his eyes focused on the man he loved, drinking in the relaxed, sleeping features and imprinting them on his mind. It wasn't often that he saw the Doctor like this; he was usually moving around, always in motion.

Ianto brushed a strand of soft, tawny hair away from the Doctor's cheek, and he couldn't resist leaning down to brush a kiss against that velvety skin. How could any one man be so perfect? Ianto wondered, his fingertip tracing the outline of those full, sensual lips. Or did he just see something that nobody else did?

At least, he hoped no one else saw what he did. It was hard enough to know that he would have to take second place to what the Doctor perceived as his duty as a Time Lord. He'd eventually have to go -- though Ianto didn't intend to let him go anywhere alone. No, he would be there, right at the Doctor's side, through whatever they might face.

He studied his love's face closely, his eyes moving from the arch of the Doctor's brows downwards. One fingertip gently traced the line of the Time Lord's long lashes, marveling at their soft thickness; they felt like fairy wings beneath his touch.

His fingertip moved over the line of nearly-invisible freckles scattered over the bridge of the Doctor's nose; Ianto had to resist the urge to lean down and press his lips against that silky-soft skin. His heart clenched in his chest as a thought occurred to him.

Who else had studied the Doctor's sleeping form like this? Who else had touched him and thought of how this man belonged to them?

No one, he told himself. Not since the Doctor had been in this body. He'd asked, and the Time Lord had supplied the information, honestly and openly. Ianto had been his only lover in this body. The only lover he wanted to have.

Ianto trailed gentle fingers down the Doctor's face, smiling softly as he listened to the Time Lord's steady breathing. Everything about this man was so beautiful -- he was perfection in Ianto's eyes. The sun-kissed freckles, the curve of his cheek, the heart-shaped outline of his upper lip -- even the tiny crow's-feet around the outer corners of his eyes.

The young man let his soft fingertips trace those tiny lines, the little smile still curving his lips. The Doctor would probably see those small lines as a fault in his facial features -- but Ianto saw them as just another part of the face he loved, the face that he wanted to awaken to every day.

As though he could sense Ianto looking at him, the Doctor opened his eyes, the long dark lashes fluttering as he awakened. A smile curved his lips as he gazed at his lover sleepily, one hand reaching out to cup Ianto's cheek.

"Good morning, beloved," he whispered, not moving his fingertips from Ianto's skin. The young man placed his hand over his lover's, his own smile mirroring the Doctor's.

"Good morning, love," Ianto answered, wrapping both arms around the Doctor and pulling the slender body close against his own. His lips descended on the Doctor's, and it was quite a while before either of them spoke again.

"That's quite a wonderful way to wake up," the Doctor said softly, curling into Ianto's arms, showing no propensity to get out of bed.

"It certainly is," Ianto agreed, tightening his arms around the Time Lord. "Do we have anything planned for the day?" he whispered into the Gallifreyan's ear, unable to resist the urge to nibble gently at the tender lobe.

A shiver went through the Time Lord's thin body at his lover's touch, his voice going husky. "No, I don't believe we do."

"That's good," Ianto murmured, his lips covering the Time Lord's mouth again. "I don't intend on sharing you with anyone today."

The Doctor didn't answer -- at least not verbally. But his reaction to those words told Ianto loud and clear that he was fully agreed with.

***