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[ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

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.

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"Alright, alright, no mushrooms."

He lets out a last huff of laughter then steers Ianto onward -- leading him around and between mushrooms again.

"C'mon, Wendy, let's go on an adventure."

An adventure to Khalo, at least. He works his way deeper into the forest, picking a meandering path between the mushrooms. The gentle glow of them in the lower light under the forest canopy is fascinating and unsettling both, leaving John uncertain what to expect. Are there dangerous creatures, here? What kind of creatures do you even get in a mushroom forest?

"If you're Wendy," he says after a long moment of deep contemplation, "I guess I really do have to protect you from jealous fairies."

John's arm is warm and solid around him and honestly pretty nice. Ianto likes the feeling of being wrapped up like this. He likes the fact that it's John. John makes him feel safe. No matter what he thinks, for as long as he's known him he's always been there for him. It's more than he can say for a lot of people in his life, really.

He's starting to feel kind of... Floaty. Like maybe if John weren't holding on he really would fly away. Or maybe without the contact grounding him he'd simply leave his body and just. Stop, for a little while. Maybe that would be nice too. But then he'd be leaving John alone and that wouldn't be very fair for him. So no floating away. Not yet.

It takes him a moment to process what John had said, come back into himself enough to use his brain. "Jealous?" he asks, frowning. Jealous of what? "Of me?"

"Yeah!" John continues, as if this logic is obvious. "Because you're my Wendy!"

Wendy is important. Wendy loves Peter even though he's too immature and selfish and cocky to understand that and love her back. The thought sinks in, slowly, and John absently wonders on how many levels Ianto really is his Wendy. How many times Ianto will pick him up when he makes a mess and hurts himself. It's probably not good, he theorises, to sympathise with Peter Pan of all characters. Especially when Peter Pan kidnaps children. In fact, if Peter Pan never grows up but is still alive when Wendy has children... how old is Peter Pan? It's probably still creepy, right?

All of a sudden, the Neverland concept is a lot more complicated than at first glance. Huh.

Ianto tries to follow along, but he already knew that he was Wendy in this analogy so the clarification hardly helps. Why were the fairies jealous of Wendy? Because of Peter, somehow. Because Peter could only direct his attention in so many directions at a time, and when you were the object of that affection, you felt like nothing else mattered in the whole wide world. And when he moved on you would give anything have him back. Maybe it's something like that. Ianto almost can understand how they feel, in a way. But he isn't Tinkerbell, he's Wendy. And Jack left him, and it's been months now without a word and now he's on a different planet and maybe he found his own Peter to carry him off to the stars in a way that Ianto never could.

John is a better Peter in this analogy anyway, Ianto concludes. And leaves that train of thought at that.

"Are you threatening to duel with fairies in my honor."

He's still dwelling over if Peter Pan is creepy, so it takes a moment for John to process the question. Duel fairies? For Ianto's honour? Why would he -- oh, because he's... Wendy? Right. Yet at the same time, that doesn't make sense. Ianto was his Wendy even before he was Wendy. Ianto his important. Doesn't he know that? Maybe he doesn't. John turns a frown on him and slows to a stop, rests his hands on the man's upper arms and runs them down toward his hands slowly. He's momentarily distracted by Ianto's hands, which he realises he's never paid attention to before, but then his eyes track up again and study him with focused intensity.

"I'd do anything for you," he assures him, "even before you were Wendy."

Just in case the Wendy situation needed clarifying. It seemed important, on some level he cannot fully explain.

Ianto doesn't know why they're stopping at first, but he slows anyway. John reaching for his hands and he looks down at their hands as well, because something about them seems to be fascinating, though it escapes him exactly what. He squeezes slightly in return, because it seems like the right thing to do, before he glances back up at him.

Oh, he thinks to himself, as he stares into John's eyes and his stomach does a funny little flip in turn. John's hands are very warm in his, and the look in his eyes is very intense, and Ianto thinks that he might just actually believe him, in truth. John has never let him down before, after all.

Is he making a stupid face? He's probably making a stupid face. He makes sure that he closes his mouth as he tries to piece together some form of response to make in return. In the end the words are out before he's thought them through, his fingers tightening hard on John's as his eyes widen a fraction, as though he's surprising even himself.

"Then don't leave me."

Because Ianto may be very contentedly stoned within an inch of his life, but even still. On a deep, subconscious level, John has him worried.

John's face scrunches up in confusion, because why would he leave him? They're going to Khalo together, right? Unless something changed?

"No," he confirms, "I'm not going anywhere."

Other than Khalo, together. Right? That's what they're talking about, right?

"C'mon," he manages, and tugs at one of Ianto's hands -- tries to pull him closer again so he can swing an arm back around his shoulders and continue on through the forest.

The forest is deep, and the foliage gets thicker and rougher, but John is just about aware enough of his surroundings to tread carefully. Every so often he sees something he thinks he should be concerned about, some enormous plant half digesting some strange creature, but he can't really focus on it. His body feels heavy and yet light, like he might just drop to the ground in exhaustion or somehow lose all gravity. His weight sways into Ianto every so often, and he mumbles things: Ianto has very blue eyes, the moons are so close, did he tell Ianto that New Lantea had five moons? The forest is so colourful, nature is amazing. Isn't it strange how similar so many planets are? They're the same, yet they're not. Like fingerprints. Fingers look the same, but they're not. Ianto's fingers are different. He holds an intense, several minute session scrutinising Ianto's fingers before stumbling onward -- then the forest thins out again and finally they're in Khalo village.

It's beautiful, but John is barely awake by now. The tree guardians mesmerise him, the buildings, the water and the Khali flitting around. It's all so ethereal, so awe inducing that he just gapes for a long moment before wobbling onward into the village with Ianto.

Edited 2018-06-13 21:25 (UTC)

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.

Edited (ianto jones never forgets) 2018-06-14 11:32 (UTC)

It's far too warm, but John sleeps anyway. He feels tired and a little spinny, and he can't really stay upright anymore. Ianto crowds him and that's too hot but he hasn't the energy to push him away, and besides which if Ianto is Wendy then he should stay close anyway in case the fairies get jealous. There some logic in there, somewhere.

He's not exactly sure how long he sleeps for, but when he wakes up he feels clammy and has a foggy, low level headache. Which is plausibly because when he was traipsing through the mushroom forest (fungi jungle? Fungle, his memory suggests?) he spent too long debating who was Peter Pan and not enough time drinking water. He shifts, and becomes vaguely aware of Ianto beside him. Ah, right. Wendy. Wincing slightly John eases off and flops over onto his back, rubbing at his eyes and forehead to try and lessen the ache a little. There's some water and painkillers in his bag, he knows. He packed them in case of Ianto's head still hurting. Maybe just water first, though, before breaking out the painkillers. Sitting up John rests a hand on Ianto's arm to get his attention, assuming he's probably some degree of awake already from the movement, then digs in his bag for the water he packed.

"Hey buddy," he says, in a soft voice that distinctly smacks of 'handling a potentially delicate person' tone. "How you feeling?"

Ianto's head had actually recovered from the knock he'd received, which is why he's confused that the aching is back when he wakes. He's confused about a lot of things, really. Why he's so warm, why he's so disoriented, why he feels like he's got a mouth full of cotton. And why there's someone in bed with him. He supposes that's why he's woken up, them moving around. Them being John, of course. He knows it the second the other man's hand comes to rest on his arm, even before he speaks. Though he's not sure whether that makes it better or worse.

Curling himself up tight, Ianto moves to throw his arms over his face and groans softly. Bits and pieces of their journey are coming back to him, and he's not sure he wants to process any of it just now. Waking up next to John makes ignoring it completely slightly difficult though.

"Yeah," John replies, "you're not wrong."

He feels like groaning too. Uncapping the bottle he takes a long pull of the water before re-capping it and leaning over Ianto to set it near his hands.

"Drink some of this," he encourages, since no doubt he feels somewhat the same. "You're probably as dehydrated as I feel."

Giving Ianto's arm a last reassuring squeeze he tugs his bag closer again, begins digging through for something simple to eat. There's a little bread left, at least, along with some crackers. Khalo probably has food shops but he doesn't... quite feel up to going outside their room just yet.

Ianto may want to crawl under a rock and hide but John's chatter does help. Reluctantly, he uncurls himself, reaching for the water bottle John set by him before moving to sit up and taking a few tentative sips. Glancing around the room and trying to re-orient himself as he does. They'd made it to Khalo, at least. And managed to find a room before they'd crashed, well done on their part. There are two beds in the room, though Ianto vaguely remembers preferring to stick close and the thought of it heats his cheeks a little. He takes another sip of water.

“What time is it?” he asks at last. His voice rough with sleep as he tries to take stock of himself and their situation. How long had it been since they collapsed into bed together? It’s difficult to tell, underneath the leafy shade of the canopy above them out the window. Everything is cool and dark and blissfully shady.

Good question. John glances down at his watch, then squints around them at the light levels.

"Eight PM, though I'm a little fuzzy on how we got here so I have no idea how long we slept. Or how we picked this room, for that matter. I'm hoping we paid for it."

He moves some bread and crackers to be within Ianto's reach, scanning the room again and tries to think of a neutral way to inch into discussions of what happened.

"Did I dream that this place has giant tree people?"

There we go, that's a safe topic.

Ianto lets out a huff of laughter in response to the other man's question, reaching forward to snag some of the crackers as he does.

"Unless you and I had the same dream, they were real," he answers. "Are real. I suppose they're still out there, somewhere." He makes something of a face at that thought. They're a bit terrifying to really think about, truth be told.

Taking another sip of the water to fortify himself, he continues to clarify, "Don't worry about the room. I took care of it. I'm not quite sure how long we have it for but I didn't pay that much so it's probably the next day or two." He shrugs slightly. "We can clear it up with them tomorrow. Oh."

If John doesn't remember how they got there then it's important to specify. "Unless you really can fly, be careful walking about out there. We're halfway up to the canopy -- it's a miracle we managed to get up here in the first place as it is."

"My dreams are normally a little less tame than this."

Nobody was in danger, nobody died, there wasn't even any sex. Overall, it would make for a disappointing dream in John's opinion. He reaches across to snag the bottle of water back from Ianto, frowns at the exit from the room in thought as he uncaps it and takes a sip.

"The Khali are basically fairies, right?" He squints sideways at Ianto, turning over the thought. "Think they can pixie dust us? So we can fly too, at least for a bit?"

He really, really hopes so -- in a quietly intense sort of way. John would dearly loved to have what he deems a much cooler superpower, a real superpower. ATA gene doesn't feel like a real superpower to him, even if it now seemingly works on other things.

Ianto vaguely recalls a similar conversation in the forest before, and a moment of spinning, John's arms around him and thinking that even if they couldn't, this might be the next best thing. He shoves a cracker in his mouth, chewing methodically before he offers anything in the way of a response.

"It's possible," he offers. "Maybe not pixie dust in the traditional sense, but. They might have something. We could ask around?" Or look. They hadn't had much of a chance to do that, when they first arrived, tired and disoriented as they were. "At least they have the vines set up, I suppose. God knows how they'd expect us to handle this otherwise."

He visibly brightens at that, takes another sip of the water before re-capping it and handing it back to Ianto.

"Should we find you a blue dress?"

You know, so he can be Wendy -- although the playful twitch of John's lips suggests he might not be entirely serious about this question. Ianto didn't like jokes about him being feminine before, so he probably shouldn't push this one too far either.

He takes the water back from John, watching the quirk of a smile on the other man's face, his mind continuing to play back to bits and pieces of conversations between them from earlier in the day. He has to keep reminding himself it was only just a few hours ago.

Ianto meets the other man's gaze, quirking something of an eyebrow at the suggestion before shrugging a shoulder at him in turn. "I suppose that we could," he allows the other man, watching him from over the edge of the water bottle as he raises it to his lips. Calmly taking a sip from it as he adds, "It would bring out my eyes."

Two can play at this game, John.

"It would!" John agrees, because he'd been loosely thinking that too. "And maybe your calves would see a little more sunshine, too."

Since Ianto is not regularly a shorts sort of person, and either John doesn't remember that Wendy's dress is distinctly floor length or he doesn't care and is imagining the replacement one to be less conservative.

Ianto makes something of a face at the other man, because he does remember the dress -- nightgown, he supposes it is, really -- that Wendy wears in Peter Pan, and it most certainly does not show off any part of her legs at all.

"Look, I'm not sure I'm really sure that I'd be able to pull it off, in the end," he hedges. John's rather stuck on the idea of this and he's not certain whether he's just joking about or -- what, really. "I've got the wrong shoulders for dresses, it wouldn't exactly be a flattering look."

"Well I don't know about your shoulders," John admits, "but the suits are a better look on you. Not that I've seen the dress in person, but --"

He shrugs, breaks up a piece of cracker to eat. The suits are a good look to begin with, and he's not really into the cross-dressing thing so he can imagine that it's overall a better look. That's close enough, right?

Ianto regards the other man carefully, taking another sip of the water as he studies him. A better look than what? The dress? Or in general? Had that been an attempt at a compliment? Should he take it as such?

He reaches for another cracker, playing with it between his fingers as he thinks. It's not as though he had been fishing for compliments, after all. But after all the talk on the walk over about his eyes and his hands, it does leave him wondering. The walk over leaves him wondering about a lot of things, truth be told. The top of the list being whether he should really take anything he’s saying here seriously at all. Then again, why shouldn’t he? It’s all rather confusing, for as fuzzy as he feels.

"More's the pity that it's been so damned hot lately, then," he replies at last. "Just the thought of suiting up in this weather is enough to make me sweat. You may just get your wish yet." You know, to see more of his skin and all. Or was it his legs specifically he was after? He holds the water bottle out to John again, in case he wants it back. "At least we don’t have to worry about the sun under all these trees."

"You can still burn in the shade, the question is how much sunlight actually makes it through the canopy."

They should really take a proper look outside soon. He takes back the water bottle, uncaps it again and takes another sip.

"How you holding up?"

His initial reply hadn't really told John anything much, so he's hoping the water and food are helping. You know, and that Ianto isn't secretly still feeling spinny or nauseous or something. He seems fine, though, maybe a little slowed down still? Mostly fine. Good enough to make jokes, which is a hopeful sign.

Ianto really wants to argue that he's not this delicate flower that John seems to think he is, but he does burn as easily in the sun as the other man is implying, and he really has been having a difficult time of it the past few days staying up on his hydration and his blood sugar. That on top of the knock on the head it's probably only through John's fussing and sheer force of will alone that he didn't accidentally pass out on the other man at some point or another. But still. It's embarrassing, and under normal circumstances he should be able to hold his own.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, glancing aside at the other man and knowing won't be enough for him before forcing himself to elaborate. "It's too hot, and I. Could really use a shower by now. But I'll be fine. Water is helping." He reaches up to run a hand through his hair, massaging the back of his neck before he suggests, "We might want more than bread and crackers to get us through the night. If you feel like taking a look around? Sounds like the village is still up and about." When do fairies sleep, he wonders to himself, and puts the thought aside for now.

"I think I remember there being a big pool thing, maybe you can have a swim to cool off. They don't seem like the complex plumbing type."

More than rainwater collection type, with some minimal piping to funnel it. He re-caps the bottle, holds it back towards Ianto and considers his shoes thoughtfully where he dropped them on the floor.

"Swimming does sound nice, actually."

Since John feels clammy too. Maybe they should both take a swim. He drops his eyes further down to his own t-shirt with frown, plucks at the front of it and sniffs thoughtfully. Yeah. Probably he should take a swim and... maybe rinse his t-shirt out? It'd probably dry out on its own, eventually.

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