Title: Sleep To Dream
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 3
Prompt: 46, Sleep
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.

***

He loved watching the Doctor sleep.

There was something about his face that changed subtly when he was in the throes of sleep, Ianto thought, propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at the sleeping Time Lord's face. The little worry lines that were there during his waking hours were smoothed away, making him look much younger than he already did. Remarkably young for being over 900 years old, the young man though with an inner smile.

The Doctor could easily pass for someone of his age, he thought, his eyes roaming over the other man's features. Well, maybe a bit older. He wondered just how many years of the Time Lord's life corresponded to one of his -- he was willing to bet there were quite a few. The Doctor looked no older than a man in his late twenties, if that. Ianto was always surprised at how young and vital his lover looked to most people, knowing his true age.

He'd been to so many places, seen so many things, Ianto mused, resisting the urge to reach out his hand and stroke his fingertips over the Time Lord's soft skin. It was hard to believe that someone who had experienced so much of life -- so much of the universe, and of time itself -- could want to be with him. It still sent a thrill traveling through his body to think that someone like the Doctor actually belonged to him.

How had he managed to capture the heart of someone so utterly beautiful, someone who could have his choice of anyone he wanted? Ianto didn't know, and he didn't really care. The important thing was that he had found the Doctor, that the two of them had met and melded into one entity, that their hearts and souls were as entwined as their bodies were when they made love. It didn't matter why they were together -- only that they were.

Beside him, the Doctor slept, unaware of his young lover's regard. What was going through that brilliant mind at this moment? Ianto mused, the urge to reach out and touch the Time Lord growing stronger with each passing second. But he kept himself from doing it, somehow kept his hands from traveling over the other man's features, sweeping the covers aside and exploring that beautiful body ....

He pulled his mind away from those thoughts with a mental admonition. No, he didn't need to let his thoughts go down that path, not at the moment, he told himself, a slight smile on his lips. Those thoughts would only lead to him waking the Doctor up -- and even though they might both enjoy a shag, he knew that the Gallifreyan hadn't been sleeping well lately, and he wanted to let the Time Lord get all the rest he could.

That thought brought a frown to his face, quickly replacing the soft smile. The Doctor had always suffered from horrific nightmares, brought on by memories of his past, ever since Ianto had first met him. But they seemed to be getting worse lately -- caused, no doubt, by some of the things that had happened to them in the past weeks. Ianto had his own memories, but he wasn't given to bad dreams about them. Unfortunately, the Doctor was.

Those nightmares worried Ianto. They were getting worse and worse, the Doctor often waking in the dead of night screaming, clutching at Ianto with a kind of desperation the young Welshman had never seen in anyone before. The Time Lord couldn't go back to sleep after one of those nightmares had woken him, merely curling into a ball on one side of the bed, crying quietly, not responding to Ianto's soft words and caresses.

Ianto's heart ached at the idea of what must have been done to the Doctor to reduce him to such helplessness, his hands curling into fists at the thought of someone hurting his love in such a way. Anyone who would hurt someone like the Doctor didn't deserve to draw breath, he told himself fiercely, swearing for the thousandth time that if he ever had the chance, he would do whatever he could to end the Master's long life and rid the Doctor of that spectre.

However, the man he loved seemed to be sleeping peacefully enough now, his face unlined and innocent in sleep. He looked so impossibly young and vulnerable, Ianto thought, this time unable to stop himself from reaching out to trail gentle fingertips across the Doctor's cheek, down to his jaw, moving the pad of his thumb softly over the Time Lord's heart-shaped upper lip. For some reason, he was always compelled to touch the Doctor when he slept.

The Doctor didn't wake at the gentle touch, merely turning over onto his side and sighing softly, tucking one hand under his cheek and curling up next to his young lover. Ianto smiled, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to the Time Lord's forehead. He'd never felt protective of anyone before, but there was a helplessness, a vulnerability about the Doctor that brought out that instinct in him that no one else had ever touched.

He'd seen the Doctor at his most vulnerable, thought Ianto, another frown creasing his brow at the thought of what the two of them had been through at the Master's hands. Ianto hadn't thought they would survive that last encounter; the Doctor had shut himself away in the Tardis for days afterwards, and had refused to speak of the experience afterwards. They would have to talk about it sometime; the Gallifreyan couldn't keep holding back his feelings.

At least he hadn't been forced to watch the Master violate his love, Ianto thought with a shudder, closing his eyes and clenching his fists to stop the sudden shaking of his hands. No, what he'd been forced into was worse. He'd had to violate the Doctor himself, take him when he was at his most vulnerable, and he still didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself for that. The Doctor had forgiven him, but his own mind was more rigid and unbending.

Ianto wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his head on his knees as he looked at the slumbering man by his side. The Doctor had been through so much in more than 900 years, he reflected, wondering if he himself would manage to be so optimistic if he'd seen even half of what the Doctor had dealt with during his long life. Somehow, he didn't think so. The Time Lord was an exceptional man, in more ways than one.

And this man was his, Ianto told himself, his inner voice still tinged with wonder at the thought. The Doctor had given himself to Ianto, freely, willingly, surrendering himself in a way that the young man was sure no one would even think of doing. Even Jack hadn't given himself over so completely, even though he knew that the immortal had loved him, in his own way. But not nearly in the fierce, passionate way that the Doctor loved him.

His own feelings were so transparent. Ianto was sure that anyone had only to look at him when his gaze was on the Doctor to be able to tell how he felt about the other man; the love he had for the Time Lord was bound to show in his eyes. There was no way he could keep it back, no way he could -- or would -- hide what the Doctor meant to him. He'd waited too long to have something like this in his life to even think about holding himself back.

It didn't matter what forces in the universe might try to keep them apart -- Daleks, the Master, any other kind of alien that the Doctor had faced in the past, or that they might face together in the future. The Doctor was his; they were bound together, a bond that couldn't be severed or even frayed. Ianto knew in his heart that their feelings would only grow stronger over time. He couldn't imagine a time when he wouldn't be in love with this extraordinary man.

And they had time. All the time in the world.

Yes, he was inevitably going to age and die. He knew that, and so did the Time Lord. But until then, they would take what they could get. He didn't want to leave his love alone to face the rest of a long and lonely life without his soul mate -- but it would be a long time before they had to contend with anything like that, Ianto told himself. They would worry about that when it was closer to a time when it could actually happen.

In spite of all the Master's efforts, he hadn't broken them apart. He hadn't diminished their love for each other, and he hadn't broken the Doctor as he'd wanted to. If that wasn't proof that they belonged together .... Ianto shook his head, not wanting to relive those agonizing hours. They'd survived, with their bodies and, more importantly, their hearts, intact. There was no use going over it in his head. It was over and done with. Time to move on.

As if the Doctor had somehow divined his thoughts, his eyelashes fluttered, his gaze bleary with sleep as he blinked and focused on Ianto. "Are you all right, love?" he whispered, reaching out to wrap long, elegant fingers around his young lover's wrist. "I don't know what woke me -- perhaps just the feeling that you were awake and that you might need me." He rolled over onto his back, stretching out under the covers.

Ianto couldn't keep his hungry gaze off that body, half-revealed by the sheet that moved down the Doctor's stomach when he stretched himself out. All he could think about was crawling on top of that beautiful body, ravaging the Doctor's slender frame with his hands and mouth, taking the Doctor until the Time Lord cried out his name and writhed beneath him. His hands itched to touch that porcelain skin, his body ached to be inside the other man.

"I know what you're thinking," the Time Lord whispered, dark eyes meeting his gaze. "And you know that if you were to ask me if I wanted it too, the answer would be yes. Always."

"It's a good thing you can read my thoughts," Ianto murmured, pulling the covers off the Time Lord's body and moving to straddle the Doctor's hips. "It saves us so much time that we could otherwise spend playing silly games, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does," the Doctor sighed, his eyes closing and his arms moving to wrap around his young lover's shoulders as Ianto's mouth began to move down his body, taking away the need for any more words between them for the rest of the night.

***