Fic: Vizzini's Rule (44/105)
Title: Vizzini's Rule, Chapter 44
Rating: R
Warnings: Bad words is all really
Spoilers: Season One thru Random Shoes (1x9)
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to Russell T. Davies and the Mighty Beeb. Just goofin' around!
Summary: In which Ianto and Brendan head for the pub...
Notes: I made it to Philly!! Yay vacay!! *grins* AND I got 5 mins on the computer to post another chappie - enjoy!
Previous Chapters
Vizzini's Rule: Chapter Forty-Four
Ianto and Brendan walked to the pub, chatting easily about random topics. Brendan glanced at Ianto at one point and asked if he was dressed okay. Chuckling, Ianto assured him that the jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt he had changed into were much more the norm than a suit.
Ianto was pleased to see his favorite back booth was still open. He guided Brendan to it, picking up a few menus along the way.
“So what’s good here?” Brendan asked.
“Pretty much everything. I’ve never had a bad meal here,” Ianto replied. He glanced at the menu, resolving to get something other than his usual fish and chips. Jack’s even managed to ruin mushy peas for me tonight, he thought bitterly. Somewhere in his head, that annoying little voice was telling him he was being a baby, but he squashed it down, determined to be offended. “Think I’ll go for the three-cheese pasta bake. You?”
Brendan considered for another moment. “The pork and apple pie sounds good. Do you want me to?” He motioned to the bar.
“No, no, you’re the guest tonight. I’ll go. Drink?” Ianto added as he stood.
“Guinness, please.”
“Man after my own heart,” Ianto said with a smile and went to place their order. He returned with two creamy pints of the dark beer, setting one gently in front of Brendan who took a grateful sip.
“Ahh, needed that. Thanks.”
“Hope we didn’t give you a bad day?” Ianto asked.
“Not at all, just long. I was dreading it for the whole drive, what with the things Phil said.”
Ianto grinned. “Right, me, scary and all that.”
“Right,” Brendan said. “Seems silly now, but I was expecting someone about forty with a three-piece-suit who walked around after me with white gloves, cleaning everything I touched.”
Ianto coughed as his beer went down the wrong way. “That’s what he said?” Brendan nodded, his green eyes smiling. “Well, as you can see,” Ianto said, opening up his jacket, “no waistcoat.”
“And you’re definitely not forty,” Brendan said. “And you haven’t tried to clean anything that I’ve seen.”
“I held myself back,” Ianto said dryly, earning a laugh from Brendan.
Their food arrived and the conversation stalled to “pass the salt?” for a few moments while they started to eat.
“This is really good,” Brendan said. “Do you want to try a bite?” he asked, offering his plate to Ianto.
“Oh, no thanks. I mean, it looks good, I just don’t really eat meat anymore,” he said with a small shudder.
“Oh? What put you off it?”
Ianto grimaced. “Not sure it’s a dinner table sort of story.”
“Oh, come on, I’m impossible to squick,” Brendan said taking a healthy bite of his pie.
“Squick?” Ianto asked, confused by the unfamiliar word.
“Uh, sorry, it’s something my little sister says,” Brendan said, blushing. “It means, um… gross out?”
“Squick,” Ianto repeated, rolling the word around his mouth. “Okay then, it was when we were investigating a missing persons case for the Cardiff police and got kidnapped by cannibals.”
“Go on!” Brendan said, openmouthed with disbelief.
“No, it’s true. After you’ve had a butcher knife to your throat, it’s kind of hard not to sympathize with the cow.”
“Whoa, I’d say so. Is that the weirdest case you’ve been on?”
“Well, I don’t know about that. Torchwood sees some pretty strange stuff,” Ianto said. He hoped Brendan wouldn’t press him, he didn’t think Jack (bastard) would want UNIT know about some of the things Torchwood got up to.
“How did you join up?”
Ianto almost sighed with relief. This was something he could talk about. “I was actually at Torchwood One first and then I came here after-”
“No! You were at Canary Wharf?”
“Yeah,” Ianto said quietly.
Brendan must have read Ianto pretty well because he quickly returned to the original topic. “So how did you join Torchwood London?”
“Well, I was dating this girl, Lisa, and she-”
“Girl?” Brendan interjected. He flushed immediately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just thought… I mean, never mind.” He looked down at his plate, clearly embarrassed.
Damn you, Jack Harkness, Ianto thought, are you always fucking right?
“Anyway,” Ianto continued as if Brendan hadn’t spoken, “I was just out of University and she already worked there and told me they were hiring in the Research department. Not very exciting, really,” Ianto shrugged and took a bite of his pasta. “How did you join UNIT?”
“Even less exciting,” Brendan said, rolling his eyes. “My dad, two uncles and three older brothers are all in too.”
“So keeping the world safe from aliens is the family business then?” Ianto teased.
“Yeah. I’m the only one not in ops. Didn’t have the head for it, but I’ve always been into cars, so I’m a mechanic. Keep UNIT rolling, as my dad says.” He rolled his eyes again and then smiled at Ianto.
Smiling back, Ianto pointed at their empty glasses. “Another round?”
“Yeah,” Brendan said, springing up, “but let me get this one.”
Ianto watched him walk over to the bar to get their drinks. So Jack was right, so what? Doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t mean he’s interested in me. Doesn’t mean I’d do anything even if he was. Dammit Jack! Ianto took a deep breath. He didn’t want to think about Jack. And he really didn’t want to think about what Jack’s comments meant about them, about what Jack was probably doing… You said no complications, the little voice was back. You said it yourself. Bugger off, Ianto thought as Brendan returned to the table.
“Game of darts?” Brendan suggested as he sat down. “I saw a board over there.”
Ianto took a long drink from his pint. “Sounds fun.”
They played darts and took turns getting rounds until neither of them was able to throw straight anymore. Instead of taking that as a sign to call it a night, Ianto recklessly ordered another round and they collapsed back into their booth and kept drinking. They closed the pub and found themselves walking back to Torchwood in the middle of the night, hanging on to each other so they didn’t fall over, depressed that neither could think of a dirty song to sing.
“’S a shame, we should be singin’ somethin’” Ianto said. “’S what drunks do, ri’?”
“Tha’s right. Can’ walk home drunk and not sing somethin’. Wait!” Brendan stopped suddenly, making Ianto stumble.
“Wha?”
“Don’ have a home here,” Brendan said. This struck them both as extremely funny. They clung to one another, trying to remain vertical.
“You just come on home wi’ me. Comfy, comfy sofa.”
Brendan tilted his head up and green eyes met blue. “Sofa, soun’s nice. Unless…” he tightened his grip on Ianto’s lapels, drawing him closer.
“Unless…” Ianto said lowering his head.
Their lips met in a desperate, drunken kiss, mouths open, tongues tangling together as they fought to get closer without losing their precarious balance. After several long moments of sheer physical pleasure, Ianto’s inebriated brain woke up and he pulled back.
“God! Bren’an, I’m sorry. I…”
“S’ok, Yan, s’fine,” Brendan said, resting his forehead on Ianto’s shoulder. “I shouldn’a done tha’”
“No, ‘s me,” Ianto slurred, hugging Brendan. “I’m jus’ a mess, I’m with someone and he… well not really with, but sorta with and… and… I jus can’t,” he finished. Even though he told me to, the rotten bastard.
Brendan let out a shuddering breath. “Talk about fuckin’ up,” he mourned, “kissing the boss is a big fuck up.”
Ianto laughed out loud. He let his arms fall to his sides and then put a gentle finger under Brendan’s chin to lift his head. “Maybe at UNIT, but here at Torchwood, we’re kinda casual on that topic, kay?”
Brendan nodded. Ianto slung an arm around his shoulders, and they started walking again.
“You know, we’re never gonna make it to my place.” Ianto stopped and patted his pockets, trying to find his mobile. “Ha!” he yelled when he found it. “Taxi,” he said as he started to dial.
“Good idea,” Brendan said and shivered. Ianto put his arm back around Brendan, telling the taxi to pick them up on the Plass.
By the time they arrived at Ianto’s flat, they had both begun the painful, and in this case, slightly embarrassing process of sobering up. Ianto poured them each a big glass of water before he started piling blankets and pillows on the sofa.
“Um, bathroom’s through there, I put out a toothbrush for you.”
“Thanks, Ianto. I… I don’t even know…”
“Hey,” Ianto said, walking over to Brendan. “Stop worrying, okay?”
Brendan gave him a lopsided smile. “Okay, I just… I wish you weren’t sort of with someone.”
Ianto gave a little groan and cupped Brendan’s face between his hands. He placed a light kiss on his lips. “Right now, so do I. Goodnight, Brendan.”
“Night, Ianto and… thanks.”
With another smile, Ianto went to his room and threw himself on his bed. His head started to pound with a refrain of stupid, stupid, stupid. He groaned and pulled the covers around him and tried to fall asleep.
TBC in Chapter Forty-Five
Rating: R
Warnings: Bad words is all really
Spoilers: Season One thru Random Shoes (1x9)
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to Russell T. Davies and the Mighty Beeb. Just goofin' around!
Summary: In which Ianto and Brendan head for the pub...
Notes: I made it to Philly!! Yay vacay!! *grins* AND I got 5 mins on the computer to post another chappie - enjoy!
Previous Chapters
Vizzini's Rule: Chapter Forty-Four
Ianto and Brendan walked to the pub, chatting easily about random topics. Brendan glanced at Ianto at one point and asked if he was dressed okay. Chuckling, Ianto assured him that the jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt he had changed into were much more the norm than a suit.
Ianto was pleased to see his favorite back booth was still open. He guided Brendan to it, picking up a few menus along the way.
“So what’s good here?” Brendan asked.
“Pretty much everything. I’ve never had a bad meal here,” Ianto replied. He glanced at the menu, resolving to get something other than his usual fish and chips. Jack’s even managed to ruin mushy peas for me tonight, he thought bitterly. Somewhere in his head, that annoying little voice was telling him he was being a baby, but he squashed it down, determined to be offended. “Think I’ll go for the three-cheese pasta bake. You?”
Brendan considered for another moment. “The pork and apple pie sounds good. Do you want me to?” He motioned to the bar.
“No, no, you’re the guest tonight. I’ll go. Drink?” Ianto added as he stood.
“Guinness, please.”
“Man after my own heart,” Ianto said with a smile and went to place their order. He returned with two creamy pints of the dark beer, setting one gently in front of Brendan who took a grateful sip.
“Ahh, needed that. Thanks.”
“Hope we didn’t give you a bad day?” Ianto asked.
“Not at all, just long. I was dreading it for the whole drive, what with the things Phil said.”
Ianto grinned. “Right, me, scary and all that.”
“Right,” Brendan said. “Seems silly now, but I was expecting someone about forty with a three-piece-suit who walked around after me with white gloves, cleaning everything I touched.”
Ianto coughed as his beer went down the wrong way. “That’s what he said?” Brendan nodded, his green eyes smiling. “Well, as you can see,” Ianto said, opening up his jacket, “no waistcoat.”
“And you’re definitely not forty,” Brendan said. “And you haven’t tried to clean anything that I’ve seen.”
“I held myself back,” Ianto said dryly, earning a laugh from Brendan.
Their food arrived and the conversation stalled to “pass the salt?” for a few moments while they started to eat.
“This is really good,” Brendan said. “Do you want to try a bite?” he asked, offering his plate to Ianto.
“Oh, no thanks. I mean, it looks good, I just don’t really eat meat anymore,” he said with a small shudder.
“Oh? What put you off it?”
Ianto grimaced. “Not sure it’s a dinner table sort of story.”
“Oh, come on, I’m impossible to squick,” Brendan said taking a healthy bite of his pie.
“Squick?” Ianto asked, confused by the unfamiliar word.
“Uh, sorry, it’s something my little sister says,” Brendan said, blushing. “It means, um… gross out?”
“Squick,” Ianto repeated, rolling the word around his mouth. “Okay then, it was when we were investigating a missing persons case for the Cardiff police and got kidnapped by cannibals.”
“Go on!” Brendan said, openmouthed with disbelief.
“No, it’s true. After you’ve had a butcher knife to your throat, it’s kind of hard not to sympathize with the cow.”
“Whoa, I’d say so. Is that the weirdest case you’ve been on?”
“Well, I don’t know about that. Torchwood sees some pretty strange stuff,” Ianto said. He hoped Brendan wouldn’t press him, he didn’t think Jack (bastard) would want UNIT know about some of the things Torchwood got up to.
“How did you join up?”
Ianto almost sighed with relief. This was something he could talk about. “I was actually at Torchwood One first and then I came here after-”
“No! You were at Canary Wharf?”
“Yeah,” Ianto said quietly.
Brendan must have read Ianto pretty well because he quickly returned to the original topic. “So how did you join Torchwood London?”
“Well, I was dating this girl, Lisa, and she-”
“Girl?” Brendan interjected. He flushed immediately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just thought… I mean, never mind.” He looked down at his plate, clearly embarrassed.
Damn you, Jack Harkness, Ianto thought, are you always fucking right?
“Anyway,” Ianto continued as if Brendan hadn’t spoken, “I was just out of University and she already worked there and told me they were hiring in the Research department. Not very exciting, really,” Ianto shrugged and took a bite of his pasta. “How did you join UNIT?”
“Even less exciting,” Brendan said, rolling his eyes. “My dad, two uncles and three older brothers are all in too.”
“So keeping the world safe from aliens is the family business then?” Ianto teased.
“Yeah. I’m the only one not in ops. Didn’t have the head for it, but I’ve always been into cars, so I’m a mechanic. Keep UNIT rolling, as my dad says.” He rolled his eyes again and then smiled at Ianto.
Smiling back, Ianto pointed at their empty glasses. “Another round?”
“Yeah,” Brendan said, springing up, “but let me get this one.”
Ianto watched him walk over to the bar to get their drinks. So Jack was right, so what? Doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t mean he’s interested in me. Doesn’t mean I’d do anything even if he was. Dammit Jack! Ianto took a deep breath. He didn’t want to think about Jack. And he really didn’t want to think about what Jack’s comments meant about them, about what Jack was probably doing… You said no complications, the little voice was back. You said it yourself. Bugger off, Ianto thought as Brendan returned to the table.
“Game of darts?” Brendan suggested as he sat down. “I saw a board over there.”
Ianto took a long drink from his pint. “Sounds fun.”
They played darts and took turns getting rounds until neither of them was able to throw straight anymore. Instead of taking that as a sign to call it a night, Ianto recklessly ordered another round and they collapsed back into their booth and kept drinking. They closed the pub and found themselves walking back to Torchwood in the middle of the night, hanging on to each other so they didn’t fall over, depressed that neither could think of a dirty song to sing.
“’S a shame, we should be singin’ somethin’” Ianto said. “’S what drunks do, ri’?”
“Tha’s right. Can’ walk home drunk and not sing somethin’. Wait!” Brendan stopped suddenly, making Ianto stumble.
“Wha?”
“Don’ have a home here,” Brendan said. This struck them both as extremely funny. They clung to one another, trying to remain vertical.
“You just come on home wi’ me. Comfy, comfy sofa.”
Brendan tilted his head up and green eyes met blue. “Sofa, soun’s nice. Unless…” he tightened his grip on Ianto’s lapels, drawing him closer.
“Unless…” Ianto said lowering his head.
Their lips met in a desperate, drunken kiss, mouths open, tongues tangling together as they fought to get closer without losing their precarious balance. After several long moments of sheer physical pleasure, Ianto’s inebriated brain woke up and he pulled back.
“God! Bren’an, I’m sorry. I…”
“S’ok, Yan, s’fine,” Brendan said, resting his forehead on Ianto’s shoulder. “I shouldn’a done tha’”
“No, ‘s me,” Ianto slurred, hugging Brendan. “I’m jus’ a mess, I’m with someone and he… well not really with, but sorta with and… and… I jus can’t,” he finished. Even though he told me to, the rotten bastard.
Brendan let out a shuddering breath. “Talk about fuckin’ up,” he mourned, “kissing the boss is a big fuck up.”
Ianto laughed out loud. He let his arms fall to his sides and then put a gentle finger under Brendan’s chin to lift his head. “Maybe at UNIT, but here at Torchwood, we’re kinda casual on that topic, kay?”
Brendan nodded. Ianto slung an arm around his shoulders, and they started walking again.
“You know, we’re never gonna make it to my place.” Ianto stopped and patted his pockets, trying to find his mobile. “Ha!” he yelled when he found it. “Taxi,” he said as he started to dial.
“Good idea,” Brendan said and shivered. Ianto put his arm back around Brendan, telling the taxi to pick them up on the Plass.
By the time they arrived at Ianto’s flat, they had both begun the painful, and in this case, slightly embarrassing process of sobering up. Ianto poured them each a big glass of water before he started piling blankets and pillows on the sofa.
“Um, bathroom’s through there, I put out a toothbrush for you.”
“Thanks, Ianto. I… I don’t even know…”
“Hey,” Ianto said, walking over to Brendan. “Stop worrying, okay?”
Brendan gave him a lopsided smile. “Okay, I just… I wish you weren’t sort of with someone.”
Ianto gave a little groan and cupped Brendan’s face between his hands. He placed a light kiss on his lips. “Right now, so do I. Goodnight, Brendan.”
“Night, Ianto and… thanks.”
With another smile, Ianto went to his room and threw himself on his bed. His head started to pound with a refrain of stupid, stupid, stupid. He groaned and pulled the covers around him and tried to fall asleep.
TBC in Chapter Forty-Five