Ianto stumbles along with John through the fungi forest (fungest, he can't help but thinking to himself here and there), observing the scenery and doing more listening than talking, in all honesty. He's content to listen though. John says a lot of interesting things. Five moons on New Lantea, that's right. He remembers something about a telescope, but the details are fuzzy. Ianto looks up at the sky and tries to imagine it. Five moons. Even just the two is fascinating.
Speaking of fascinating, John seems to be pretty fascinated with his eyes, and his hands. Ianto doesn't mind that either, really. He likes looking at John, holding hands with John. And he likes John's hands. He endures the several minutes' study of his fingers John puts him through, pointing out the differences in John's as well, before he curls his fingers in the other man's and the pair of them set forward again.
The village itself is beyond words, though Ianto doesn't really have the capacity to process it in full. They've built everything in the trees. The tree guardians are frankly more than a little intimidating but also amazing. All of it is amazing, even despite the fact that he feels a little ill making the way up to the mid-level of the trees where the guest accommodations are. He has just enough common sense left in him to be able to negotiate a room for himself and John, the other man obviously flagging and Ianto starting to feel warm and floaty again as he pulls some of the money he’s saved out of his bag to settle the pay. He even manages not to call any of the Khali fairies to their faces as he and John are shown to their room.
Tinkerbell, he thinks to himself, as he watches her — her? — fly away before turning back to dump his bag on the floor and finally, finally strip off his shoes and overshirt. There’s a sound behind him as John collapses onto the bed, having done much the same with his shoes and tactical vest himself and Ianto stands back, taking one look at him before deciding that he looks comfortable and that separate beds is lonely, and John makes him feel safe and wanted. Crossing the room, he drops to curl up beside the other man, who makes vague noises about how hot it is but throws an arm around him in return, curling against Ianto’s back and sticking to him like a limpet. And Ianto holds onto that arm around him as though it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. As though his touch is the only thing keeping John there as well, which is perhaps the most important part, as he slowly dozes off, feeling the other man’s breathing slow and heavy at his back as he does the same.
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Speaking of fascinating, John seems to be pretty fascinated with his eyes, and his hands. Ianto doesn't mind that either, really. He likes looking at John, holding hands with John. And he likes John's hands. He endures the several minutes' study of his fingers John puts him through, pointing out the differences in John's as well, before he curls his fingers in the other man's and the pair of them set forward again.
The village itself is beyond words, though Ianto doesn't really have the capacity to process it in full. They've built everything in the trees. The tree guardians are frankly more than a little intimidating but also amazing. All of it is amazing, even despite the fact that he feels a little ill making the way up to the mid-level of the trees where the guest accommodations are. He has just enough common sense left in him to be able to negotiate a room for himself and John, the other man obviously flagging and Ianto starting to feel warm and floaty again as he pulls some of the money he’s saved out of his bag to settle the pay. He even manages not to call any of the Khali fairies to their faces as he and John are shown to their room.
Tinkerbell, he thinks to himself, as he watches her — her? — fly away before turning back to dump his bag on the floor and finally, finally strip off his shoes and overshirt. There’s a sound behind him as John collapses onto the bed, having done much the same with his shoes and tactical vest himself and Ianto stands back, taking one look at him before deciding that he looks comfortable and that separate beds is lonely, and John makes him feel safe and wanted. Crossing the room, he drops to curl up beside the other man, who makes vague noises about how hot it is but throws an arm around him in return, curling against Ianto’s back and sticking to him like a limpet. And Ianto holds onto that arm around him as though it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. As though his touch is the only thing keeping John there as well, which is perhaps the most important part, as he slowly dozes off, feeling the other man’s breathing slow and heavy at his back as he does the same.