Sulu's hands tightened around his own, and Ianto felt so guilty about ruining the light, bantering mood they had had going on a moment ago with one ill-placed comment that forced them to be reminded of what the situation was exactly. He turned his head to press a kiss against Sulu's shoulder, not feeling like he could really word an apology that would cover how sorry he was for being such a downer, nor that Sulu would really respond well to him apologizing, so that action would just have to do.

"...you shouldn't be afraid of them," Ianto said, softly. "They're. They're just hands. And yeah, they've always been cold, and maybe they're even colder now, but. They're still the same hands that I've always had." Ianto realized he was speaking a bit in code. Talking about his hands when really, he was talking about himself. He was the same person that he'd always been. And yes, he was cold, and sick, and tired, but. It was still him. All the qualities he'd had before, they were all true now. Maybe he'd get worse. Maybe...the darkness would take him away again. But at least he was there now. At least they could enjoy what they had now, because. Who knew what was coming next? Ianto certainly didn't.