Ianto wants to open his mouth and quip something about how actually, he's fairly sure it had been more than just the other man's flirtations that had turned him on to him, but he isn't sure that he can quite get the words out. Not with Jack looking at him like that. Not with Jack breaking into a run towards him. Just about the only thing he can think of doing is bracing himself for the maelstrom that is Jack Harkness before the other man washes over him.

And wash over him he does, his arms sweeping around Ianto, his lips pressing against his own, all with such force that Ianto thinks he probably would have been swept off his feet, swept over backwards if Jack hadn't been holding on to him. If he hadn't wrapped his arms around the other man in response to the sudden contact. And wrap his arms he does, hands gripping in the other man's clothes as he kisses him back with everything that he has. Because it's the first touch he's felt in a long time, and in all honesty, if it's the last one he gets, by god does he want to make it count.