You smell like ... home. Oh, Ianto knew how Jack felt. It was just something that wasn't ever discussed. Like talking about it would break some magic spell and leave them both bitter and alone again. Carefully, the cup of coffee was held off to one side so that Jack could cuddle to his heart's content. Ianto suspected that in Jack's time, people touched one another more often than they did in this one.
Ianto stirred, just a bit in Jack's embrace. "I know." Simple words. But it still pleased him to no end that Jack was making some corner of the house truly his own. It made him suspect, though, that he, himself, was the wife in their weird relationship. Frightening thought, that. He'd have to beat himself with a tea kettle if he found himself flitting about the kitchen in an apron.