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Entry tags:
[ 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.
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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Ianto is a city boy, after all, maybe he finds the sights and sounds of a busy place more relaxing?
"Your journey can be whatever you like, it just has to... you know, have a beginning, middle and end. At some point you encounter trouble and overcome it, free yourself of your burdens. All that stuff."
It's a... loose approximation of the concept, but John figures that it's enough for their purposes -- and enough to keep Ianto thinking about things that will keep him from focusing on the water.
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Ianto can't deny that he's a fussy man. He struggles to find that inner peace within himself, never mind outside of it. "I..." he says, which is about the time he realizes that John's hand is no longer at his back supporting his weight. Well, he'd known that John hadn't been supporting him for a while now, but he'd not really registered it up until this moment. Floundering for a thought, and floundering for his balance, he does his best to think about how long it had been. Ten seconds? Fifteen? Is he floating away? No, John wouldn't let him do that. He has to still be just there beside him. He is... Isn't he?
It's glancing aside at the other man -- or the thought process that has him doing so, he supposes -- that gets him in the end. Ianto isn't a swimmer, he doesn't know how to scull. Turning his head to the side tips his balance and before he knows it he's rolling sideways, grabbing for the other man and trying to gain a sense of equilibrium that doesn't just have him madly flailing in the water again. Well shit. So much for peaceful thoughts.
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"Hey!" he prompts, "hey, easy. Get your feet down. It's not deep, remember? I'm right here."
So Ianto can grab onto him if he wants, but John is focusing on helping him get upright so he can stand up in the water.
"Easy does it. Feet down, take a breath. I'm right here."
So nothing to worry about, right? John isn't about to let him drown, after all. Especially not in perfectly still shallow water when he's inches away from him.
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"It's no use," he says, a little breathlessly, as he forces himself to straighten and loosen the vice-like grip he's fastened on John's arm once more. "That may be as good a result as you're going to get." He's not sure how many more times he can keep doing this though before he has to just call it a night. It's easier said than done to relax after all when his fear of the water around him has his body all but vibrating with adrenaline. "The only way you're going to get me to relax in here any longer is if you drug me."
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So you did it, Ianto! John flicks him an easy smile and claps a hand to his shoulder encouragingly.
"Which means you get to pick what we do next! I'm assuming it involves getting out of the water."
You know, away from any possible place he might drown. It seems a pretty fair assumption all things considered, although what Ianto will actually want to do once they're out John isn't sure. He doesn't think they have coffee shops in Khalo. A library, maybe? They could ask. Would he pick that, though, when it feels like something he'd have probably done anyway eventually? He guesses he might just to do anything indoors away from the water.
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Making his way back up to his bag again, Ianto wraps his arms around himself and stands dripping, trying to assess the situation. At least he feels better for the wash, he supposes, but he's still half-naked and wet and feeling very exposed in front of the other man. The other man who he's made a fool of himself in front of several times over today already. The other man who he had climbed into bed with not that long ago. The other man who is also dripping wet and honestly very attractive and has made it a point to comment several times after the color of Ianto's eyes.
"I need a drink," he decides aloud.
no subject
At least, John is pretty sure that's how it works.
He grabs up his t-shirt and gives it a quick dunk into the water, trying to roughly clean it as best he can with bar soap and hoping it'll dry out in the heat.
"Anyway, you'll dry off in about five minutes in this heat. Probably be clammy again in another five."
So don't worry about it, Ianto, you don't need a towel.
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Sighing slightly, Ianto submits himself to the fact that he's just going to have wet shorts for the next while and bends to start collecting his clothes. Slipping his tshirt on and awkwardly slinging his trousers over his shoulder before turning back to John.
"In this humidity? I'll be lucky if I ever dry out again," he gripes, albeit only halfheartedly.
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John sounds cheerful about this, but it's partially forced cheer. He's still a little tired and tense about everything they have to do, wary of their surroundings and of the pressure of time on their shoulders.
Wringing out his t-shirt again finally he gives it a shake, squints at it then drapes it over his shoulder a moment while heading back to his bag.
"It's cooler inside at least," he adds, because Ianto is grouchy but it isn't the worst. "Sunblock," he adds, and something in his smile says he knows Ianto won't fully appreciate this.
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"Isn't it enough to just -- agree that we're going to be indoors for the next while and leave it off for now?" he all but begs. Because no, Ianto does not appreciate the idea of sunblock in the slightest. He has just washed the damn stuff off of himself, after being covered in multiple layers of it for days, can't he just enjoy being clean a change?
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John shrugs expansively, digging out some to put on himself for a start. Leading by example is meant to be good, right? John can lead by example, since even though he doesn't burn as easily there's no need to tempt fate.
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"Fine," he says, resigned to the fact that this will be his fate for the next -- forever he supposes. Until the summer-like weather ends? Until he digs himself a new underground bunker to live in? "Fine, give it here then. You're never going to let me hear the end of it otherwise. Especially if I do burn that bad." Which he probably would, if he let himself ignore the sunblock.
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Since this a very dramatic response to it. He rubs some over the back of his neck and along his shoulders, squinting down to make sure it's not coming out in big streaks before squirting more into his hands then gently under-arm throwing the bottle to Ianto.
"You're welcome, by the way."
For the sunscreen, the swimming (floating) lessons, the making sure you don't drown, the building you camp sites. You know.
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You're welcome. Yes, alright. So John's been doing a lot for him and Ianto's been. Well, complaining a fair amount about their situation. And probably not as outwardly thankful as he probably should have been. He has thanked him though, hasn't he? A couple of times, at least. He recognizes that he would have probably collapsed from heat stroke out there somewhere if it weren't for the other man, he really does, and if he's focused more on his own inadequacies than on his gratitude for John's calm and steady presence guiding him through all of that, then he is sorry about it. Does John -- regret that? Is this his way of being aggravated with all of the complaining, he has to wonder?
He fumbles with the sunscreen for a moment before glancing back up at the man. How even to begin to respond to that? "Thank you," there's a start. "Sorry." There's another. "I..." He glances away, knowing he's said a lot of it already. "I don't mean to... I am grateful."
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"Hey," he says softly, "I know. Don't worry about it. Did I miss any streaks?"
There, a chance for Ianto to fuss in turn. Since he likes fussing.
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Chewing on his lip for a moment, Ianto moves to step forward and take the opening that the other man is giving him. "A little," he admits, if only because it is true, and also because no one does the back of their neck or shoulders as well as they would like to think. "Here," he says, bracing one hand against John's arm and using the other to work the lotion into the nape of his neck. Smoothing out where he's got a few globs of it just on the edge of his hairline and working the rest of it further down his shoulders. "Do you want me to...?" he asks, after a moment. You do my back, I'll do yours? Even though John's already mostly taken care of himself already.
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You know, so it's not just Ianto tolerating things from John. He doesn't burn easily, nowhere near as easily as Ianto does, but that's no reason not to wear sunscreen. It's still plausible he could, and he'd be a hypocrite if he avoided it after all the nagging he's done.
"Then we can go and find somewhere you can have a drink, if that's still what you want."
Since it was Ianto's choice, after all, and he has the right to change his mind if that was just a flippant remark. John isn't about to hold him to it. He's pretty relaxed about it.
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"No, I'd like a drink," he says. "And food. We could both use a proper meal, I think. I certainly could, at least."
Opening the bottle, he squirts some of the greasy liquid out onto his hand, warming it for a moment before moving to smooth it over the other man's skin.
"Give ourselves a moment to relax, before we jump into whatever comes next," he continues. "We've been on the road for, how many days now? And we're in what amounts to a literal fairy paradise. Let's just. Grab a drink, take a breath, and leave the rest of the night to enjoy ourselves, yeah?" Together preferably but if John would prefer to go off on his own to do so then that's his call.