Summary: Ianto takes some creative liberties.
Author's Notes: I wrote this by a prompt and I'm strangely satisfied with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it too!
Jack was a heavy sleeper. It was a fact he couldn’t deny and he didn’t really mind – given how little time he got for sleep, it was usually a good thing. Few things could wake him up – Ianto’s monstrously loud and shrill alarm clock being one of them – but today seemed to be a first.
The sensation on his back was rather curious – not sharp enough to be a needle or even Ianto’s blunt nails, and it had a strange, slightly wet quality to it.
“Ianto?” he asked timidly and just then realised that his lover had straddled his thighs as Jack lay on his front. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t move,” Ianto warned. “I’ll show you in a moment.”
Jack obliged wordlessly and relaxed again. Ianto resumed whatever it was he was doing and after a few more minutes announced, “You’re ready.”
Jack sat up cautiously and then tried to twist around enough to see what was going on. When he failed, only managing to notice something blue, he headed for the full-length mirror on Ianto’s wardrobe.
Jack let out a small gasp as he studied the wonder on his back. What had seemed like a large blue spot was actually a carefully painted sky with all sorts of stars dotted all over it. Instead of the deep dark blue of cold space, it was coloured like the minutes before sunrise; the delicate pink at the small of his back scattered with even more stars, barely visible at the lighter sky when compared to the darkness that reached the base of his skull.
“For how long have you been doing this?” Jack whispered reverently, afraid not to break the spell. Ianto just shrugged in that ‘no big deal’ way that, right now, seemed completely out of place.
“Started just about an hour before you woke up. You like it?”
“Of course I like it! How could I not?” Jack still couldn’t take his eyes off his back’s reflection. “Will it get erased if I, I don’t know, put clothes on or get back in bed?”
Ianto shook his head. “I don’t think so. Only water can get it off.”
“Come here, then,” Jack grinned sitting back on Ianto’s bed and drawing his lover closer. “How come you thought of doing that? I didn’t even know you liked drawing.”
“Always have,” Ianto said with a small smile of his own. “Never tried it on a person, though. I just woke up early and I thought I could do something to pass the time.”
“Most people would pick a book to read or check their e-mail,” Jack pointed out, “but not you, Ianto Jones. Never you. You’re amazing, you know.”
“It’s just a hobby,” Ianto insisted, but he seemed pleased. “Shouldn’t we get to work?” He protested when Jack dragged him back under the covers.
“Thanks to you waking me up, we’ve got at least an hour more before we have to get ready,” Jack assured him, pointing at the clock. “And in the meantime I can enjoy my own real-life masterpiece.”
“You,” Ianto pointed out somberly, “are too cliché for your own good.”
“Oh, shut it, Jones,” Jack responded with a brief, chaste kiss. “You know you love it.”