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[ After the nightmare, after the big Talk they have, John doesn't have another for a while.

He's not really good at tracking what causes them. Too hot, too cold, too stressed? Something else? Something he ate?

Sometimes it makes sense, sometimes it doesn't.

When he dreams sometimes it's blurry, nonsensical dreams that he doesn't even remember. Sometimes it's nice dreams, even. Yet tonight, it's something else. Tonight the quiet tendrils of unease and stress work around his chest and begin to tighten. The fear begins to ebb low in his stomach even as he adjusts his hold on Ianto and squirms in his sleep.

Anxiety, fear, then flashes of anger begin to ebb out of John into Ianto unwittingly until John suddenly snaps away and rolls onto his back -- catching himself just before he rolls straight off the edge onto the floor this time. His breathing is quick, shallow, and he has one hand flailing around over his own chest through his t-shirt -- as if feeling to check if something is there. ]

[Because Ianto has experienced this before, he's able to process what's happening a lot better as the first waves of John's fear and anxiety start to wash through him. His breath catching as he wakes to the peak of anger and unease just in time for John to snap away from him and roll onto his back. He lies still, listening to the sound of John's breathing for a moment before he pushes himself to sit up, needing to move after the crashing wave and sudden absence of the other man's emotions through him.

He does his best to think back on their conversation last month. About what John had said he would want, what he would need, in a moment like this. And he attempts to collect himself enough to be able to put it to good use. He can do this. First of all -- space. He can do this. Well, he can do his best, at any rate. Turning to the other man he watches him for a moment before speaking up.]

Hey. Let me up?

[Since Ianto usually sleeps on the side of the bed nearest the wall, it makes slipping out past him rather difficult. Especially when John would rather not be touched just yet, he’s sure.]

Edited (this is better) 2018-10-12 02:57 (UTC)

[ John startles at the sound of Ianto's voice, turning to fix him with wide hazel eyes before he takes a slow breath. Right. Of course Ianto is awake. Makes sense.

He moves to sit up without responding, swinging back the sheets and moving to be on the edge -- leaning into the wall and rubbing at his face. As if he can force some steadiness into himself.

Count backwards, he reminds himself, steady breathing. ]

Sorry if I woke you.

[ -- Is about all he manages. Forty-five, forty-four, forty-three... ]

[Ianto shakes his head as he moves to bring his legs over the edge of the bed. There's still a part of him that wants to reach out and touch. John's wearing a tshirt tonight, he could just... But he doesn't. He'd asked for space, and so Ianto pushes himself up off the edge of the bed and pads across to the kitchen to fetch a pair of glasses down from the cabinets.]

I'm fine, you don't have to apologize.

[He pours out two glasses of water, wondering if John might have perhaps preferred something stronger but that's hardly a healthy habit either. Water will have to do. It's what he'd suggested before, after all, and he still seems -- shaken. The look in his eyes when he'd first spoken up...

Ianto pads back to the bed, making sure to make a bit more noise this time as he approaches the other man before he holds one of the glasses out to him.]

Here.

[He wants to ask more. Wants to fuss and ask if he wants anything else. If he can get him tea, perhaps. But he has a feeling John wouldn't want that either. Give me space, Ianto keeps having to remind himself. And so he'll settle for this for now. At least until he understands all of this better, anyway.]

[ John has managed to collect himself a little more by the time Ianto comes back, though he still looks tired. He takes the glass and fidgets with it a moment, takes a slow sip.

Thirty-five, thirty-five, thirty-three -- ]

Thanks.

[ He pushes to his feet to pace a little, trying to work off the jitters. It's fine, he's fine now, though one hand flits to uneasily rub at his chest again. ]

[Ianto moves to take a seat on the bed himself as John pushes himself to rise. Fitting himself back in the corner, tucked against the wall and the headboard so that he has somewhere to put his glass down and free his hands if he wants to. He takes a careful sip himself, watching as the other man feels his chest again. He doesn't ask what's wrong, what he's feeling for, or what he thinks might be there. He takes another sip of his water and carefully sets it to rest against his knee, reaching for another topic instead.]

When did you get back in?

[From work. Ianto never seems to register when he gets in. Just that it's late (early?) and that he's generally fast asleep by the time that he slips in beside him, waking only to roll over and plaster himself to the other man's side now and then.]

[ Thirty-three? No, thirty-two, thirty-one-- ]

Uh.

[ He blinks, looks around and picks up his phone -- wakes up the screen and stares blandly at the time it reports to him. ]

Hour or so?

[ He lets out a slow sigh, sets aside the phone and looks up at Ianto as he takes another sip of the water.

Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight.

He closes his eyes a second, trying to focus on just the numbers, then opens his eyes again and flickers a tired smile. ]

Guess you probably won't get back to sleep after this.

[Ianto flicks the other man a little smile of his own. Trying not to let whatever exhaustion he might be feeling show on his face.]

Probably not.

[It's best not to sugar coat the truth, he supposes. He might end up dozing a little, depending on how long it takes John to settle, but he doubts he'll be falling back to sleep considering how little time he has left before he's meant to be waking up again anyway. He offers John another, softer smile, before continuing gently:]

I'll be alright. It was pretty much daily life for me, before I woke up in this place. I could basically guarantee that something would wake me up in the middle of the night. Rift alarm, Weevil alert. [His own fair share of nightmares. He plays the water glass in his fingers.] Why do you think I sleep so hard and drink so much coffee? I had to make up for every lost second that I could.

Here I was thinking you just liked coffee.

[ He sighs and sets aside his glass, scrubs fingers through his hair. ]

Does that mean you sleep better here? Me waking you up aside.

[ Or does Ianto sleep worse, have new nightmare fuel and more worried than he did back home? John would like to think there's something good about this place, if he can. Even if it's as simple as 'Ianto isn't getting called to work in the middle of the night.' ]

Well, there is that as well. But... Yeah.

[Ianto nods slightly, raising his water glass himself to take another sip before setting it aside.]

There's fewer interruptions here, you know? I'm not. I dunno. It's highly unlikely anyone'll be ringing me up in the dead of night with an emergency, these days. Not that it couldn't happen, I suppose, but. Certainly not with the frequency it used to.

[He flicks the other man another soft smile.]

And the company helps. Despite what you may be thinking otherwise.

[ The company helps.

Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen--

John studies Ianto as he smiles, turning over the thought. Not with the frequency it used to. That's good, but -- ]

I guess it's more likely any late night emergency calls you'd get would be about me.

[ Either something happening to him, or him needing help in some way. It doesn't exactly seem unlikely, especially when John works a late shift bouncing people. ]

[He studies the other man right back for a few quiet seconds before his response. John's not wrong, of course. But the way he says it... Ianto doesn't want him to feel guilty about it. He can't know that -- if the call goes out -- it will be due to anything he has control over. He shouldn't blame himself. Ianto certainly doesn't.]

I suppose so. You're the only one I can think of who would have me as an emergency contact, you know.

[He moves to pull his knees up to his chest, tilting his head at the other man before he continues to gently point out:] Just as you're mine. Though my emergencies will be more likely to occur earlier in the day, of course.

When I'm sleeping.

[ So it's still kind of a late night call.

He steps forward carefully, slides himself onto the bed and moves to lean up against Ianto.

Their arms brush, and John is a tangle of sadness and unease but also affection -- strong currents of affection for Ianto who is so good to him, so much better than John really deserves but John wants this anyway. Selfishly, maybe, he doesn't want to let this go. ]

Sounds about right.

[He waits. Waits for John to come to him, waits for the brush of the other man's skin against his own, the invitation of the other man's emotions in his head before he reaches for him himself. Tangling his fingers through the other man's and tugging his hand into his lap before glancing aside at him, just to be certain that this is alright. Wondering if there's any way that he could offer for John the same warm, steady reassurance his own affection always brings himself. Feed his own affection back somehow? He'll have to try sometime. For now he hopes this quiet contact is enough. Is not too much, for that matter.]

I can't imagine how you get any sleep at all, while I'm up and about in this little place. Between the coffee maker and the noise from outside...

[And the way John sleeps in general.]

I get enough.

[ He doesn't shrink from the touch, lets Ianto pull his hand into his lap and lets out another slow breath. ]

Anyway, I'm used to sleeping in weird bursts.

[ Atlantis was always busy, he was woken up enough times for an emergency or from some weird sounds while out on reconnaissance that Ianto moving around is at least a reassuring, familiar thing to hear.

He's not denying, after all, that Ianto does wake him up. John just goes back to sleep, though. Mostly. ]

[Ianto flicks a sideways smile at the other man, playing his thumb gently across John's knuckles as he does and shaking his head slightly as he does.]

I'm sorry. I try to be as quiet as I can be, but the machine... I need my coffee in the morning, John. You've seen me without caffeine. It isn't a good look.

[He lets out the soft breath of a laugh, continuing to brush his fingers against the other man's as he continues to point out:]

If I didn't have to climb out over you I probably wouldn't wake you up as often, of course.

If I climbed over you when I got in I'd wake you up every time too.

[ Either way, someone wakes up.

John lifts Ianto's hand and rests his cheek against it, a fond, gentle action. ]

I'm already waking you up enough, I don't wanna do it more than necessary.

No, it’s best that you get the edge of the bed, you’re up more than I am even when we’re not working.

[Ianto offers the other man a fond smile in return to the gesture, shifting to settle further against John’s shoulder as he does.]

I’m just thinking that. Maybe if we were able to change the layout of our living space — you know, in this next place we find. Maybe it’s better if there isn’t a wall side. As much as I do enjoy crawling over you every morning. I like the idea of you being able to get a decent night’s rest even better.

Maybe I like you crawling you over me.

[ John lets go of Ianto's hand finally and shuffles to slip an arm around his shoulders instead, tugging him in close he can bask the warmth of his body, try to soothe himself the rest of the way down to steadiness. ]

Maybe I just like you.

[ Which he thinks Ianto knows, but with the effort he's putting in to talk John down -- with how careful he's being, John can't help but tiredly feel Ianto needs to know. That he cares, and that he appreciates this. ]

[Ianto leans into John’s arm around his shoulders as he tugs him closer, moving to settle his hand gently on John’s thigh in return.

Maybe I just like you. Ianto knows it in his heart, it’s a fact that he’s coming to understand better and better the longer he has this ability of his. John’s warmth, his affection, soft and gentle at times, deep and overwhelming at others. All for him.

He’s not in the habit of saying anything about it aloud though, and so it takes Ianto a moment to savor even so simple a comment as this. Lingering in the gesture that it is before turning to offer him a smile, soft and gentle.]

Maybe the feeling’s mutual.

[Maybe Ianto’s in love with him too. But that’s another hurdle for another day...]

[ The answer generates another flood of warmth from John, a steady wave of affection that John knows means he's in trouble here. ]

Well that's pretty convenient, I'd be in trouble otherwise.

[ He turns his face into Ianto's hair, letting himself soak up his warmth and steadiness. ]

Think I'll be okay now.

[ After the nightmare. He thinks he's steady now, that he's evened out enough to try and sleep again if Ianto just wants to try and nap. ]

[The tide of warm affection threatens to suck Ianto under himself, and he squeezes his hand on John's leg where it rests as he struggles with how to respond himself as well when all he wants to do is turn under the other man's touch and take him into his arms.]

Good.

[He wants to ask if John wants to talk about it. About the nightmare. About the memory -- he's going to assume it was a memory -- behind it. But it's John's decision to make. He can't push him into sharing, or into feeling comfortable doing so. And maybe it won't help. Maybe it's better if he doesn't, in the end. Maybe that's okay too.

Ianto turns his head into John's, sneaking a kiss to his cheek before he reaches up to smooth his hand through the other man's hair.]

You're tired.

You say the sweetest things.

[ Yes, he's tired. John drops his other hand down to pick up Ianto's from his thigh, playing their fingers together.

Then after a moment, he lets go -- swings his arm from around Ianto's shoulder and hesitantly pulls the neck of his t-shirt down. It's loose enough that he can do that, but then he winces and just tugs it over his head.

Amongst the light covering of hair on his chest are a few scars, some smaller ones that look like maybe light scratches from... something? Shrapnel? Along with one larger scar pattern, still faded and older -- an odd twisting kind of shape. ]

Do you remember what I told you about the wraith?

[ Bad guys, goth trench-coats, don't shake hands with them? ]

[Ianto watches quietly as John tugs his tshirt off over his head. His eyes trailing from John's to his chest, to whatever it is that he had been attempting to show him before he'd decided it'd be easier to do so by taking it off completely, before glancing back up at John's hazel green eyes again, nodding slightly as he does.]

A bit.

[Ianto goes back through is memory before he repeats:] Pale, they can get into your head, and they've got a -- hand thing?

[John's words exactly. He glances back at the scars on the other man's chest, some of the odder ones being in the location which John had been rubbing at earlier, before he raises an eyebrow at him questioningly.]

Yeah, this is the mark it leaves.

[ He runs his fingers over the patch of uneven skin, frowning in thought. ]

They kinda --

[ He plants a hand on his own chest in roughly the right place, curls his fingers like they're digging in to skin. His aren't quite... long enough or clawed enough, but it's the same idea. ]

Grab you and latch on, I guess.

Early October?

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