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For quitehomoerotic: when I was seventeen
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As he crossed the street, Ianto shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and bent his shoulders forward even further. For once, his father wasn't around to tell him to stand straight, to look proud of being a Jones, so he didn't. Besides, he wasn't proud of being a Jones, not after Bethan Taylor had spent three weeks giving him hope over history revisions, only to move on to Gary Evans, who was better in maths.

He'd discovered everything earlier that morning, when he saw the two of them together, Bethan brushing her fingers against his wrist. Ianto remembered how she had ruffled his hair once, when they'd first started talking, and he thought he understood the way Gary looked as though he'd forgot everything but her.

As he thought about it, Ianto gave a sour look to the next person he passed.

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Jack was more than a little amused, and the evidence of which was written all over his face.

"I'm not," he said plainly, "but if I were, it wouldn't be a problem." He continued, barely even a pause. "No, I'm thinking something a little less sweaty. For the time being at least. Give you a few years and who knows." Well, he knew. In fact his memories of the prior night were rather vivid.

"But sitting here on a bench, hardly interesting, is it? I'm looking for someone to give me a hand. Need a little help down by the bay. Could be dangerous."

Ianto snorted. He tried to keep it to himself, but that didn't quite work, so his reaction was probably quite obvious.

Wouldn't be a problem? Yeah, right. Someone was a little too sure of himself, it seemed.

"And you thought, what?" Ianto retorted, his tone just shy of mocking. "Oh, that bloke looks like he's got some time on his hands? Think I'll just invite him along. Down by the bay. Could be dangerous."

Edited at 2010-07-06 07:02 pm (UTC)

Jack again, was smirking. To himself, this time. Oh how little this young lad knew.

"No," he said, a small shake of his head. "I thought 'that bloke looks like he'll look good in a suit in a few years time, but for now, we can do without. Oh, and I'm pretty damn sure he's good with numbers, and pretty good in a tight situation. And no I'm not talking about sex. Teenagers, all you lot think about."

For some reason, that hit hard. The sex reference aside, very little of it made sense to him, but it struck a nerve just the same.

Ianto tensed and drew himself inward, just slightly.

"You don't know me," he said, his brow furrowed. A touch too defensive, as though he doesn't know why anyone would say he's good at anything. "You don't know anything about me."

Jack had a trump card. And, he thought, it was time to show it.

He grinned.

"Oh is that so, Ianto Jones?"

The man knew his name.

There was absolutely no reason for the man to know his name, absolutely no way the man could know his name. Unless, of course, he was some kind of pervert who had been following him around all day, and Ianto had seen enough news reports on the telly to know that happened.

Ianto scowled.

"Were you following me?"

Jack scoffed.

"Trust me, if I was following you, I'm doing it backwards. And if anyone is following anyone it's you following me." Beat. "Though not yet."

He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Look, either you help me or you don't. Doesn't bother me too much. I could do with it, but I'll manage without. So either you come with me, have a bit of danger by the bay, or you go back home. Have an evening in with your sister!"

Ianto would be lying if he said he wasn't curious. Of course he was curious. A bit of danger by the bay? As long as that wasn't a euphemism, and he still wasn't convinced on that front, it didn't sound all bad.

He wondered, fleetingly, if Bethan Taylor liked dangerous over skills in maths.

"Who are you?" he asked, gruff, instead of answering. Not answering was convenient, even strategic--before he answered, he had to decide.

Jack rolled his eyes a little. This seemed like far too much effort. Maybe he was just used to Ianto stepping into line. Well, apart from... though that was hardly relevant right now.

At the question, he stood a little taller.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said with a grin. "Trust me, it's a name you'll come to know well."

Ianto grumbled something that may well have been whatever.

"Right," he said, then, louder but rather (perhaps falsely) unimpressed, "Captain. What will we be doing down by the bay?"

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