Who: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones [and any other brave souls if they end up stopping by, tagging along, etc]
What: Ianto Jones... gets a tattoo.
Where: Starting at Ianto's, then a tattoo parlour
When: 2 February; Early evening
Rating: Innuendo abounds, but most likely PG-13ish
Status: openish; incomplete
(
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. So make Ianto do something interesting! )
Comments 36
When he wandered into the little living room, Ianto smacked lightly at Jack's foot, boots on the couch, really?, and perched himself on the armrest when the boot retreated. "Alright, I think I know what I want to get. It might take a while, though." He was talking about tattoos.
What he had in mind wasn't small.
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"Oh?" Jack asked, craning his head to look up at Ianto. "Well, I realise getting 'property of Jack Harkness' tattooed across your arse may take a bit, especially if it's done in that frilly font." He grinned devilishly up at Ianto. "Seriously, though -- what are you thinking of getting?
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Who knew?
He tugged on Jack's hair and snorted. "While I realize that putting your name on my arse in a painful fashion is very apropos, I was thinking about something else. The Welsh dragon. Not on my arse, though," he added in a hurry and pushed at Jack's shoulder. "Let's go check out prices. I'm going a bit barmy between the house and the shop." Tattooing isn't quite the adventure he had in mind, but it was something to do, he supposed.
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Usually.
"Well, it was worth the thought," Jack replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Then again, suppose staring at my name isn't necessarily how I want to spend the next" few decades "few years." Jack spoke without pause, though mentally inserted the phrase. "Welsh dragon?" he asked, swinging his legs around and popping to his feet. "Where?"
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Bloody hell. When did he become so bloody introspective? And why did he feel so ... fragile?
"Me barmy? Who stumbled down the stairs when I mentioned the tattoo in the first place?" Ianto sallied back and made his way over towards the counter where he leaned and began to describe in detail what it was, exactly, that he wanted. The tattoo artist nodded and sketched as they talked, offering opinions of his own. And occasionally, Ianto glanced at Jack from the corners of his eyes.
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Jack shifted, drawing his lower lip into his mouth. There was no elegant way to get out of this one. "I didn't think you noticed. I... well... may have indulged in a small fantasy." Make that a rather large one... Jack hung back, letting Ianto talk with the artist, though he wasn't oblivious to the looks Ianto kept tossing his way.
"So," Jack said, coming up beside Ianto. "What have you two come up with?" He shook his head at the artist. "No, none for me, thanks. Always wanted a tattoo that said 'welcome aboard', but it'd be a waste of money." Tattoo wouldn't stick to the fixed point man.
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When Jack wandered up, Ianto rolled his eyes a bit at the welcome aboard line and spread out the paper the artist had come up with. It was a take on the Welsh Dragon, of course, though made more sinew-y instead of heraldic. "With a red fade towards the center. Otherwise I'd have a giant red blotch across m'chest."
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Jack's hand settled on the small of Ianto's back without thinking, leaning over the counter to look at the artist drawing. He glanced back and forth between the drawing and Ianto and quickly swallowed a grunt. Yes, Jack was picturing that tattoo scrawled across Ianto's chest. Good god.
"Yeah, wouldn't... want it to look like a rash of some sort. The fading..." Jack swallowed again. He should not be this turned on. "That'll do quite nicely. Very nice. Yes. Right then. Very. Good."
So he was babbling.
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