gangway world [closed]

[isfullofennui]

Characters: isfullofennui and guns-and-coffee

Setting/Location: Cell A

Date & Time: Day Five; several hours after waking up

Warnings: None

Summary: Kurt is subject to Ianto's scrutiny for obvious reasons. He's also pretty bored.

Comments

[guns_and_coffee]

Ianto wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to pass Kurt's test -- or even what said test had consisted of -- but he nonetheless found himself oddly touched when the boy came over. And thank God, really, that Kurt wasn't one of those people who insisted on making a scene of these things. No need to discuss the relationship shift (the thread of fear that Kurt would turn out to be someone important, something to use against him, another potential catastrophic loss in Ianto's ever-expanding series of them). They could just accept that the shift had occurred and proceed

[isfullofennui]

Kurt looked at Ianto contemptuously, expression momentarily betrayed by the hint of a foolish, foolish smile, before extending a leg and rolling his ankle. "I don't need to tell you how expensive Ferragamo is." He glanced over at Ianto's loafers and sighed approvingly. "You have fine taste. If I were going to take a guess, I'd say that suit is one hundred percent Gucci." He didn't have to guess -- the design screamed Frida Giannini -- but on the off, incredibly rare chance he was wrong, he might as well have himself covered. Oh, to be infallible.

"And besides, Italian leather lasts a lifetime and these are custom made. I'd rather eat my own hand." He leaned his head back against the wall and huffed dramatically. "Not that they'll do me much good here. When I was told they'd last a lifetime, I doubt the sales assistant had dungeons and," he paused, clearly unmoved, "Lanterns in mind. Thank God I ordered another pair." Kurt stretched his neck to the side, eyebrows raised

[guns_and_coffee]

"Wales." Kurt probably had no idea where that was, but it hardly mattered now. Ianto supposed he should give him a point for not automatically assuming England, anyway. Foreigners often did, and there'd been a time when Ianto had been happy enough for their ignorance. "The Gucci is from London." That Kurt would know. Everyone knew London. It and Wales hardly occupied the same sphere of existence, which was why, at Kurt's age, he'd been so eager to be there. "Well spotted, by the way. Are you in the habit of slipping Vogue behind your algebra textbook?"

[isfullofennui]

"I'm more likely to put what I learn in Vogue to use than what I learn in algebra." Kurt gave Ianto a small, haughty smile; how many men did you meet with any manner of knowledge on -- and he used the term loosely -- "women's" fashion magazines? Not to mention men in authentic European Gucci suits, something he couldn't help but grin embarrassingly at and become unnecessarily excited over. Europe was fashion, and London was at the heart of it all: Oxford Street, Carnaby Street, Savile Row and Knightsbridge. Kurt was sure he'd just committed at least three deadly sins thinking about it

[guns_and_coffee]

That was... Well, that was a question. Ianto didn't know how to answer it. What was it like in London? Ghosts, everywhere: of people he'd known and lives he'd lived. Dank, dirty holes missing from the tourist guides, just as bad as any in Cardiff, full of people who'd never been taught to imagine anything better. One Tube stop away, gleaming towers of glass and steel, men in dark suits with identical haircuts. Ianto still fit in, when he went back, but the towers no longer spoke to him of possibilities, just bullet holes and blood sprayed across smooth corporate surfaces. Canary Wharf wasn't his dream anymore; occasionally it was his nightmare.

"Eight million people in Greater London," he said, finally. "I expect it can be like almost anything."

Wales, now -- that should be even more complicated, but as time went on the simpler that answer became. "Wales is home." What more could you say about a place than that? Home, with all the associated comforts and suffocation.