Thursday | Exhibitionism
Sadly my week has come to an end. I’ll got one prompt to offer: Exhibitionism
Exhibitionism can be taken as flashing, sex in public or getting caught on purpose. If that sort of things not your cup of tea, it could also be taken as slight PDA, getting caught with someone you aren’t supposed to be with or something more funny. So rather it’s ( Read more... )
Exhibitionism can be taken as flashing, sex in public or getting caught on purpose. If that sort of things not your cup of tea, it could also be taken as slight PDA, getting caught with someone you aren’t supposed to be with or something more funny. So rather it’s ( Read more... )
“Nothing.“
Owen frowns. “I can see that. But. Why? Shouldn’t you, you know-?“ Wriggling his eyebrows, he shoves his tongue in his cheek and tilts his head in the direction of Jack’s groin.
Sighing exhaustedly, Ianto hugs both arms protectively around his bend legs and mumbles something about a muscular ache straight out of hell in his jaw and Jack having a reputation he’s protecting more fiercely than anything else and how he’d bitch if Ianto hadn’t agreed-
Taking a pity in his miserable, blushing co-worker, Owen presses his hand over the other man’s mouth to make him stop whining.
“O.K., you go and sit at the table again and let me handle things here.“
“Huh?“ Ianto’s eyes go wide. „No, you can’t. You won’t“. Owen, if you even think of.“
“Zip it. I certainly won’t touch that.“ This time, he omits the obscene gestures as he nods in the direction of Jack’s lower body but looks slightly sick instead.
Ianto doesn’t exactly seem to trust in Owen’s agenda but he’s spent 20 minutes under the fuckin’ table, he’s hurting and embarrassed and mad at his lover and so he settles with shooting Owen a warning look and crawls upwards.
Only few moments after Ianto’s sitting on his chair again, determinedly ignoring Jack and the surprised gazes of Tosh and Gwen, a dull knock and the shaking of the table startles the circle.
Looking pale and stricken, Owen quietly joins his friends above the piece of furniture again, coughing slightly and tossing down Gwen’s glass of Pellegrino hastily. He leans towards Jack, places one hand reassuringly on his boss’ forearm and opens his mouth to talk.
Ianto’s suddenly immensely interested in a stain on the tablecloth but the women stop conversing, curious what’s going on.
Glaring at them, Owen makes it perfectly clear that this is private. His female colleagues only chatter louder and listen harder.
Leaning into Jack a little closer, he says in his calmest, most doctor-like voice “Don’t worry, Jack. If you take two or three different antibiotics and comply with some basic hygienic rules it’ll soon stop crawling down there. But don’t you think you should have told us that you’re accommodating a bunch of alien species? Just for science’s sake?”
Cutlery falls and wine gets spluttered across the table. To Owen’s utter surprise, all Jack does is staring at him disbelievingly.
Trying not to look too self-satisfied, Owen hides his smirk behind the rim of his glass as he takes a tiny, tiny sip of a delicious Chiraz and for the first time, he enjoys, really enjoys, the easiness of being dead.
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