[ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

[impavid]

Who: John Sheppard & Ianto Jones
What: I Held My Tongue For Like 30 Minutes What More Do You Want?
When: Backdated to the, 24th/25th of May?
Where: Leaving main Wyver for Khalo
Warning(s): Weird Tension, fyrra use


John's best lead for the whole thing is going to be Khalo, but they can at least meander through the main hub first so Ianto can get a drink before he collapses on the floor. He can explain it once Ianto is a little more alert. John is benevolent enough to suggest this without letting on it's mostly for Ianto's sake, even though they both know it is. It's fine, though, he knows the theoretical timeline they're working on -- and since the the whole altar thing was a bust (probably he should mention that, too) this is more firefighting than anything.

He waves off another kid trying to get suspiciously close to him and his bag, mouths scram as he waits for Ianto to get his drink (which, no doubt, he won't enjoy as much as his own fancy coffee) and skims his phone again. It's heating up enough that his jacket is stowed in his bag, and he eyes Ianto idly wondering if he's put on any sunblock. His own arms are getting browner every minute, and he probably has tan lines.

"So," he says, stowing his phone and squinting up at the sky thoughtfully. Clear so far, it's only going to get hotter then. "Your boyfriend seemed in a good mood."

Ultra smooth. Nailed it.

Comments

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto honestly can't tell whether the pressure behind his eyes is from lack of caffeine or the weather or his knock on the head or some combination thereof, but he's pretty sure a coffee would help. Even if it is from a place that honestly probably burns its beans. It's better than nothing, and he's sure he'll feel better once he's gotten some caffeine in his system.

That is, until John opens his mouth and he remembers the odd mood the other man had been in the night before. He frowns at him, taking off the lid to blow across the top of drink in the effort to cool it down (even Ianto isn't the sort of man who can drink a steaming cup of coffee and not burn himself).

"I don't know what you're playing at but if that's your way of casually requesting the dirty details of my sex life, it could use some work," he replies.

[impavid]

"I'm not playing at anything! I'm just saying, the hot date situation seems to be going well."

Which, you know, is... good? Probably? Or, well, it's good if Ianto thinks it's good. Right? That's probably what he means, he glances sideways at the cup Ianto is sipping from and gestures vaguely in a direction back away from the crowds as he begins to walk.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto shoots the other man a look out of the corner of his eye as they start to walk. No, he's definitely being weird about this. He's always called Jim his 'hot date', but now it's different. Pointing out how well it's going. Calling Jim his boyfriend.

"He let me use his shower and gave me an ice pack, a sandwich, and a place to stay for the night," Ianto points out. "If by hot, you mean the temperature, however. I suppose that it was that." Jim may have been comfortable sleeping in his underwear but Ianto is self-conscious in all things. It had been an interesting night.

[impavid]

Okay, well, maybe not going as well as he though...?

"He's not saving himself for marriage, is he? Because I'm not sure that's really worth the commitment."

Having been married, John can confidently say it's a lot of work when you're going back and forth from danger all the time. Way too much for someone you just met on a mysterious planet that higher beings dumped you on.

[torchwoodteaboy]

What even...? He pauses mid-sip of coffee, frowning at the other man over it before lowering his cup and frowning at him some more. He could point out that Jim had invited him to Khalo some time after all this shit blows over, but honestly who knows whether that will happen either, maybe it won't blow over, maybe something will come up, maybe he'll lose interest in Ianto, and moreover why is John asking?

"He's not saving himself for marriage, I'm not saving myself for marriage, we're both two consenting adults and we didn't have sex last night because -- I don't know. Because there's a great fucking undead dragon that may be unleashed on half the population and because I really did have a headache and because it really is to damn hot here to think straight," Ianto replies, more than a little testy because he's still got that headache and the caffeine hasn't set in yet, and also incredulous because he can't really believe that he's being questioned about this. "What is your hangup on this?"

[impavid]

Okay, admittedly, all fairly good points. The heat isn't bothering John, particularly, but he's used to it anyway and... admittedly used to crisis situations too, but. Pretty good points.

"I don't have a hang up! I'm just invested in your happiness. Besides, if we're all going to die in dragon fire I'd take what I can get if I were you. Never know when it might be your last night in this place."

Not... wildly reassuring but you know. Realistic. He squints at Ianto after a moment, who is still frowning at him, and adds --

"You put sunblock on?"

Because if not, he is definitely going to burn.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Oh, Ianto is most definitely frowning. Especially at the suggestion that he might as well just take what he can get if he's going to die soon anyway. "John--"

The sudden topic change to whether or not he's put on any sunblock throws him for a loop, just as he's busy preparing a response to the idea that his happiness should rely on the amount of sex he's receiving -- and he sputters for a moment.

"I-- what? No. I forgot." He was barely conscious this morning he was lucky enough to be upright this morning never mind remembering to put sunblock on are you kidding? "Look, I've got some in my bag, just let me finish this first." His coffee. He really needs his coffee okay, just let him have this.

[impavid]

"I got some," John responds, and swings his bag off his shoulder -- beckoning Ianto forward with one hand. "You can keep sipping that."

He roots around for a minute then tugs out a bottle, squinting the label before zipping up his bag and swinging it onto his shoulder again.

"No good you having a head injury and sunburn, then you'd really be miserable."

Although, coffee in this heat is not strictly a good idea either if he doesn't drink enough water. Then he'll be dehydrated. John makes an idle mental note to keep an eye on how much Ianto drinks just in case. If he's not used to the heat he might not realise how fast he can dry out.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto's expression pinches as if he can't quite believe the other man's offer -- except he can because there he is, standing with a bottle of sunblock in one hand, motioning him forward, but Ianto feels a bit rooted to the spot. Here he is, gone from trying to pry details from him about what all he had been up to with Jim and now he's offering to, what, apply his sunblock for him, and Ianto feels more than a little confused and conflicted by the sudden change. At least, it feels like a change for him. Maybe John is working along some train of thought that he can't follow.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, after a long moment's pause. He's not going to say no to the help, but everything about his interactions with the other man the whole morning have felt off. Ever since he met him on Jim's threshold.

[impavid]

John squints at Ianto, then sighs and snaps the bottle closed.

"Because I don't want you to burn and you don't have a mirror but you know what? Fine! You do whatever it is you want to do, Ianto. I was just trying to be nice --"

But apparently he can't do anything right, so what's the point in trying. He shrugs his bag aggressively back onto his shoulder and starts walking again.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto is frankly a little startled by John's sudden turn, and it takes him a moment to process the fact that he is walking away before he steps forward to lay a hand on the other man's arm.

"Wait," he pleads, because he's really honestly not sure what is going on with him or what it is that he's done wrong here either. "Look, I didn't mean that you -- just wait!" He tightens his hand on the other man's arm, hoping it will help him listen. Will help him stop walking again because he doesn't know what he can have this conversation while on the move, not with his head still aching as it is and John will always have the better stamina than him.

[impavid]

He tries to shake off the touch, but Ianto's hand tightens and John sighs and stops to turn toward him. He's pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes defensively, but it doesn't help disguise the surprised way Ianto is looking at him as if he's done something wrong. Which, probably, he has. Again.

"What?" he challenges finally. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're probably all going to imminently die so, spit it out."

[torchwoodteaboy]

John's guards are up and Ianto understands that whatever he's done, he's hit a nerve. Which he hardly understands himself -- all he did was ask questions? And while it's true what John had said, he supposes, he really was just being nice, there's something off. There's been something off the whole time. Is that it, then? Because this is dangerous? Because they could die?

"Talk to me," he asks the other man, not quite releasing his grip on his arm just yet. He wishes he could see his eyes but he suspects that was done on purpose, with the sunglasses. He supposes he knows himself too well. He supposes he knows that Ianto is starting to know him well enough too. "Did something happen yesterday?"

[torchwoodteaboy]

As far as Ianto is concerned, it's been a very long day. He has never been a very physical person, and walking to their destination is taking its toll, even with sensible shoes on. He's been doing his best to stay hydrated, doing his best not to over-exert himself and get heat stroke, and he suspects that John has slowed his pace for his sake.

He gets the sense that John is doing a lot for his sake, including but not limited to the oversight and aid in his sunblock application. He's not sure anyone's ever been quite so diligent about it as the other man. Including himself for that matter. Every few hours like clockwork he'd made certain Ianto had reapplied. Thoroughly. To the extent that Ianto was grateful when they made camp and the sun began to set because he wasn't certain how much longer he could take the exchanges that evening. John's assessing eye and gentle fingers. His light jokes and easy charm. And Ianto, standing there bare before him, a jumble of thoughts and emotions tangling up inside of him. He wants to bat his hands away. He wants them to linger still. He feels a little bit as though he might scream, and he needs to take a mental step back and collect himself again.

Of course, he's not certain that camping will help in that. He's never liked camping, and even with the present company -- perhaps especially with the present company -- he feels a bit on edge. A fish out of water, he's a city boy, and being in a place like this makes him feel more uncomfortable still. Uncomfortable that he has to sit back and leave John to do most of the work. He knows how to do the whole bit with a proper tent and kit and all but this really is roughing it and he doesn't even know where to begin. So instead he sits back and stays out of the other man's way and thanks the stars that there are, so far, no alien mosquitoes to speak of. Small blessings, he supposes.

[impavid]

John can tell Ianto is uncomfortable, and he can tell he's the reason.

He tries to ease off as much as he can, let Ianto re-apply the bulk of his sunscreen and just touch up the bits he can't see or reach, but despite how casual he tries to keep it all the discomfort is there.

The one thing he can do, at least, is help make sure they're comfortable when they sleeep. He sets up a makeshift shelter, a mixture of thin branches he's hauled together from fallen limbs and ones he could snap free with his knife. There's enough to at least give them cover, and then enough wide-leaf foliage to keep off any rain.

No doubt Ianto would have preferred two shelters, but there's enough space for them to not be pressed together and John doesn't really mind staying awake first to keep watch while the other man curls up in some bedding and sleeps off the mild heat exhaustion he's no doubt starting to nurse. For now, John has left him with the combination of food and drink they have to sort out something. There's nothing really to cook, but there's some dried meat and dried fruit along with a little bread -- something plain and similar to crackers.

"You ever go camping as a kid?" he prompts, focus half on weaving a last few leaves between the branches of the shelter. Ianto had said he was more a city person before, but sometimes family trips are compulsory fun events. He might have gone before, or been sent on a kids adventure holiday thing.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto picks at the food, not certain he's really that hungry but figuring it's probably the heat and his dehydration making that decision rather than his stomach itself. He takes a few more sips of water, before breaking off another piece of his bread to nibble on.

He glances up in the direction of John's voice at the question. It's a nice little construction that he's building, honestly. He hadn't honestly known what to expect when he'd started, but the bedding is comfortable and Ianto's added his cloak to the mix for added padding, and in truth it's not bad at all. Still camping, but it's not bad.

"A bit," he answers, honestly. "Growing up. When we went to visit my Nan, sometimes." He'd never really gotten the hang of it, though. Much to his father's chagrin.

[impavid]

"Oh yeah? Like you were camping on your way to visit her, or did your Nan camp too?"

Somehow John doesn't... easily envisage someone's grandmother camping, but maybe Welsh grandmothers are made of tougher stuff. He vaguely makes sure the leaf is as secure as it's going to be before finally giving up the shelter for as good as it's going to get, moves back around to the front of it and drops to sit near Ianto so he can rummage for something to eat himself. John's tired, his feet ache and his hands ache a little from hauling and winding everything together, but it's far from the worst he's ever felt. They made good progress, so it's all worth the effort.

[torchwoodteaboy]

He glances up as the other man drops in to join him. Not really certain why John would want to know about any of this, other than to get him talking, but he'll answer anyway. John's done a lot for him today and he owes him as much.

"She did, actually," he replies, taking another bite of the bread before flicking a smile at the other man. "We would go up to visit her every weekend. All week, I would look forward to it. Maybe not always the camping, exactly, but. I don't know. The scenery, the countryside, the escape of it all, and her." He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the bread he's picking apart in his hands as he continues, "She was the one who made the whole thing worth it, really."

Which, in retrospect, sounds like a rather heavy thing to say, but he supposes it's true. He can leave it up to John to construe such a statement how he wants. But between his mum and his dad, and Rhiannon, who was a girl and older than him besides and always on about boys or whinging about friends or school or god even knows, everything else it felt like, his Nan was really the only one who ever paid him much attention. His mother tried, no doubt because Nan was her mum and she had to tell her some things he said. But it was never the same.

[impavid]

"Sounds nice."

He settles himself properly and grabs himself some bread, mulling it over.

"My Dad wasn't much for family vacations like that. He was more an all work no play sort, you know. His idea of teenage rebellion was going to Stanford instead of Harvard."

Which is... clearly not quite in line with John himself, who seems to struggle following basic orders and struggles under any kind of limits. Still, at the same time he did join the Air Force so... either that was rebellion or an accepted family occupation? John doesn't seem to be expanding much on his own, just pulling apart some bread and chewing.

[torchwoodteaboy]

It was nice, Ianto reflects. Until it wasn't, and his Nan died, and he had lost that escape and his parents had tried, he knows that now, but. He'd just never really gotten on with his father. He'd always wanted him to be something that Ianto never felt he could.

He casts a glance aside at John, raising an eyebrow at that. Both are Ivy League schools, that much he knows. He also knows John enough to understand he doesn't seem like the Harvard sort. "I take it that you didn't have much of an opinion about either," he hazards aloud, knowing everything he does about the other man. At least, he doesn't think it usually follows that one joins the Air Force after starting on a path like that, anyway.

[impavid]

John shrugs at that, not particularly agreeing or disagreeing.

"I didn't really fit the mould. I tried, but he..."

It had just been difficult. His face scrunches up as John turns over the memory, trying to think of ways to describe that don't seem... wrong.

"He had everything planned out for me, and I didn't want that. I didn't want boardrooms and stocks and shares and meetings all the time. It wasn't me. I guess he couldn't accept that."

He shrugs and unscrews a bottle of water, takes a long sip. It's not something he can change now, it is what it is.

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto breaks off another bite of his bread, nibbling at it for a few moments as he casts a glance aside at the other man, cocking his head to the side before he shakes it in turn. "Nope. I can't see it. You, in a desk job. You, in a suit?" He raises his eyebrows at that, holding the expression for another moment before reaching for a piece of the dried fruit.

"So you chose to join the Air Force instead," he says, putting the pieces of John's life together. "How did that go over?" He glances back up at the other man, studying his expression again as he does. Wondering whether he's pushing too much, to ask such a question. But he supposes John will always evade his question if he has. He's certainly done so before.

[impavid]

"About as well as you'd guess -- and I can wear a suit, Jones."

He drawls Ianto's surname deliberately, narrows his eyes at him before taking another sip of water and screwing the bottle closed.

"I've worn suits before. Just because you like them more doesn't mean I never wear them."

Admittedly, mostly for funerals and ceremonies but still. He's worn them. It's the principle of the thing, after all. He can be formal if he needs to be formal, he just prefers not to be if he can help it. He's had enough stiff formality in his life already.

[torchwoodteaboy]

"Yes, alright, alright," he says, flicking a smile at the other man's protest. "Point taken. I would just assume that it isn't your choice, yeah? You know, if you were given the option of a tshirt or a button-down with a tie, I'm willing to bet I'd know which you would go for."

Ianto wonders what it says about himself that he doesn't know what he'd choose, off the top of his head. That it depends on what was appropriate for the situation. He picks at a few of the pieces of food and puts them together in a makeshift finger sandwich before popping it into his mouth to stop himself from going on about this.

"I wasn't exactly what my father expected of me, either," he offers, after a moment.

[impavid]

"Yeah, well, we both get membership to the VIP parental issues club I guess."

Distantly, he wonders what it was Ianto's father didn't like. Whatever drove him to learn lock picking, maybe? Or maybe he just didn't like soccer enough. Not interested in the tailoring business? Maybe something else? It's hard to judge without knowing what kind of people his family were, what they liked, what they didn't. If it was personal, or if it was just that they didn't like anything. Some families were like that, kids doomed never to meet impossible standards.