John says it once, softly, carefully—speaks it with the same meticulous reverence Jack used for his wife and for Co, his voice only just audible as he simply lets it slot into his memory and tucks it safely into one distant corner of the heart that Jack has claimed every other piece of.
He says it once, and that’s all he needs—especially when Jack makes a wisecrack about dressing up and John smiles. If it means Jack’s feeling better, it’s good, he wants it…but one thing remains.
“Thank you.” He replies softly, gathering Jack’s face between his hands so he can’t look away. “Thank you for trusting me with that—but I wanna make sure you understand something, okay? When you’re with me…there’s no one you have to be. I love you, all of you.”
He hesitates, smiling as his thumbs stray to caress Jack’s cheekbones—remembers the wisecracks he made about them when they first met.
“You’re a man of a thousand faces, I know that, but understand that I love all the men you are. Even the ones I haven’t met yet, ‘cause there isn’t a single face or name, or—or personality that isn’t connected to you. Soldiers, killers, brothers, husbands…people who can—can glide across a ballroom floor in satin and heels. Whoever you want to be is fine—but there’s no one you have to be.”
Drawing him in, John kisses him, slow and soft.
“You fucked up, Jack Harkness—cause there’s no corner of the universe you can run to escape. There’s no mask you can wear to hide. Wherever you go, whoever you are…you’re completely screwed, ‘cause I’m still gonna love you.”
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John says it once, softly, carefully—speaks it with the same meticulous reverence Jack used for his wife and for Co, his voice only just audible as he simply lets it slot into his memory and tucks it safely into one distant corner of the heart that Jack has claimed every other piece of.
He says it once, and that’s all he needs—especially when Jack makes a wisecrack about dressing up and John smiles. If it means Jack’s feeling better, it’s good, he wants it…but one thing remains.
“Thank you.” He replies softly, gathering Jack’s face between his hands so he can’t look away. “Thank you for trusting me with that—but I wanna make sure you understand something, okay? When you’re with me…there’s no one you have to be. I love you, all of you.”
He hesitates, smiling as his thumbs stray to caress Jack’s cheekbones—remembers the wisecracks he made about them when they first met.
“You’re a man of a thousand faces, I know that, but understand that I love all the men you are. Even the ones I haven’t met yet, ‘cause there isn’t a single face or name, or—or personality that isn’t connected to you. Soldiers, killers, brothers, husbands…people who can—can glide across a ballroom floor in satin and heels. Whoever you want to be is fine—but there’s no one you have to be.”
Drawing him in, John kisses him, slow and soft.
“You fucked up, Jack Harkness—cause there’s no corner of the universe you can run to escape. There’s no mask you can wear to hide. Wherever you go, whoever you are…you’re completely screwed, ‘cause I’m still gonna love you.”