Ianto straightens himself in the chair he's sunk himself into, wondering whether he should stand and feeling a little odd for having made himself at home when the other man hadn't been home himself. Though it had been nearly an hour, and Jim had given him the invitation, so the way he feels is hardly warranted.

"Hey," he says, quirking a smile at the other man and raising his beer at him in turn. Ianto looks -- tired. Exhausted, really. There are a few bruises forming here and there but no real injuries from his confrontation with the bandits. He'd gotten lucky, and moreover he'd had his stun gun, which was certainly better than nothing. He also looks, well, warm. This Welshman has never been in a jungle atmosphere like this, and it shows. "I'm beginning to think I picked the right city just from the climate alone," he quips, though he knows it's not really what Jim was asking about. He'll get there in a second, he just. Needs a moment to appreciate the company first.