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~*~
Remembering to Forget
*
Sometimes, when the breeze from the window slid across his sleep warmed skin like the caress of gentle fingers, Ianto found he could almost forget Jack Harkness. He smiled into the pillow with drowsy contentment as a puff of air ruffled the hairs on the small of his back, gasping as a warm tongue licked a tingling path along his spine.
Later, as he floated in a haze of post-coital bliss, he mused that it was all too easy to forget Jack when he couldn't even remember his own name. He snuggled deeper into Methos' arms and let himself drift.