Jack was warm in Ianto’s arms, powerful and passionate, and when Ianto was with him, every other thought, every other desire or need or motivation, got swept away. There was only Jack, his distinctive scent filling Ianto’s nose, the taste of him flooding Ianto’s mouth, every touch feeling as though Jack was branding him, making Ianto irrevocably his.
When the passion was over and they were both sated, when Ianto pulled himself together, straightening his clothes and tidying his hair, he had to remind himself every time: “Don’t get used to this.”
This thing with Jack, it wasn’t something he could keep, it was just for now. Ianto was lonely; he had needs and Lisa couldn’t satisfy them. Jack was there, and he was more than willing. It was an arrangement of convenience, even if Jack wasn’t aware of it.
“I’m sorry!” Ianto wanted to tell him. “I shouldn’t be using you this way, please don’t hate me. I care about you, I do, far more than I want to, but Lisa needs me and I love her. I made her a promise, I said I’d find a way to help her, make her well again, and I will. When she’s cured we’ll be gone, you’ll never have to see me again, but right now I need this, I need you.”
Not that he could tell Jack any of that, not really. If he found out about Lisa, that would be the end of everything. There was no way Jack would understand. He’d look at Lisa and see only the Cyberman, not the woman she was and would be again.
So he went back to Jack, time and again, always reminding himself not to get used to the way it made him feel, so alive and real when he spent most of his time feeling like a ghost, invisible and ignored. Not to get used to the comfort and companionship he relished when they shared a bed, or the feel of another heart beating against his own. Not to get used to the hard planes and strong muscles of a male body instead of the soft curves of a woman.
Don’t get used to this. It was good advice, but Jack was like an addiction; how was he ever going to give him up?