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For quitehomoerotic: when I was seventeen
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hofficoffi
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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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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