nov 16: TWFanFic: three minutes and forty-two seconds [Owen/Ianto]
three minutes and forty-two seconds;
Owen Harper/Ianto Jones; PG-13; 333words;
written for dr_is_in, who requested Ianto and Owen in a bar,
I hope this is to your liking, my darling! It came surprisingly easily!
“Would you, if you had to?” Owen asks with a grin that’s far too wide and happy and Ianto knows he’s finally made it onto the happy side of drunk.
“But I don’t.” Ianto says and he smiles, shaking his head at Owen.
“Yeah,” he drawls, “but if you had to?” And Owen’s not giving up. He’s persistent, Ianto will give him that.
Ianto makes a show of thinking about it, long fingers tapping a silent beat against his beer glass.
“What about you?” He asks instead, lifting his glass and drinking down the last of his beer.
“It’s not about me,” Owen counters and Ianto snorts.
“It’s always about you,” Ianto laughs, throwing a tenner Owen’s way. Owen picks up the money without question and stands.
“Same again?” He asks and Ianto nods, his please and thank you swallowed back as Owen turns away and struts off towards the bar. Ianto’s not ashamed to admit that he’s staring. He’s even less ashamed when Owen turns his head and catches him, smirking in perceived triumph.
They polish off another round or three- neither of them are in any fit state to count their points- before Owen brings it up again. Ianto shakes his head and reaches for his wallet but Owen’s reflexes are surprisingly quick for being over the limit and he’s caught Ianto’s wrist before he can pull the wallet from his trousers.
“It’s an easy question,” he presses and Ianto eyes him carefully.
“It won’t be easy in the morning.” Ianto says and Owen has the audacity to laugh long and loud. He draws attention and Ianto scowls and kicks at him under the table.
“You’ve got five minutes,” Owen says, still laughing- like he knows the answer already and is just playing the game for Ianto’s sake. Ianto shifts and grasps at his drink for something to do. Owen stands and walks away.
It takes Ianto exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds before he follows Owen into the men’s room.
[ end. ]
[ written as part of Caspe-Wri-Mo
]