Truth be told, Jack didn't want to leave this place either. But if it seemed like he was becoming a burden where Ianto was concerned and that, truly, Ianto was better off without him, then Jack would leave. Unhappily, yes, but he would leave.
Had Ianto led him to a row of houses and said 'pick which one is mine', this would have been the house Jack would have chosen. There was something so Ianto about it, from the cute little porch to the gnomes sitting beneath the post box. It made Jack smile to see it, seeing these little touches he'd never truly seen at Torchwood.
If the outside was typically Ianto, the inside practically screamed the name of the occupant. Greatcoat still on and buttoned, Jack found himself drawn into the sitting room, looking at the pictures on display. His eyes fell on the one of Lisa first, then he looked at the picture of their Team. One dead but now alive again, and the other dead. Jack picked up the framed picture, staring down at the faces before replacing it on the shelf.
In an instant, the melancholy look was gone and Jack looked at Ianto with a grin as if the moments before hadn't even occurred. "Set my things where ever would be appreciated. Bone weary from the travel but not tired," Jack said with a wink. "No rest for the wicked... or in my case, the man who doesn't sleep."