The Speedo was one size too small. At least.
Owen did a double-take and averted his eyes. "Christ Almighty, Jack! This is Minehead Beach, not the fucking French Riviera. Have some consideration for the peons who have to work with you."
Jack glanced at the nubile, scantily-clad sunbathers nearby. "What? I'm just trying to fit in."
"There is nothing "fitting" about this "undercover" mission, including that," Ianto observed, eying Jack's bright red swimwear. He seemed to be turning a similar shade.
Jack glanced down. "I know, but they didn't have my size. I'm sorry. It should be tighter, right?"
Ianto goggled when he realized that Jack was serious.
"I mean, it's a vast improvement over the Victorian Bathing Costume, but I don't see why we need these ridiculous little contraptions in the first place," Jack continued. "It'd be cheaper and easier just to swim in the nude, no?"
"Cheaper, yes," replied Ianto, unable to look away from the tiny suit and its contents. "Easier, no."
"How so?"
"Way too distracting, Jack," Owen put in. "Tosh here is about to faint, and if Gwen tries to swim with her mouth open like that, she'll drown. And Ianto clearly can't keep his eyes off you-if he tries walking anywhere, he'll probably fall in a hole some kid dug and break his damn neck."
With great effort, Ianto tore his eyes away, scooped up a towel, and wrapped it around Jack's waist.
"There," he said, with satisfaction. "Come on, let's get you back to the SUV. I think I have a spare pair of shorts in the boot."
"But I paid a lot of money for this!" Jack said.
"Come on. You can model it for me later, in private," Ianto said, tugging on Jack's arm.
"I don't know..." Jack said, hesitating.
Ianto leaned in close. "And then I'll peel it off of you. With my teeth," he murmured.
Jack needed no more convincing after that.
A/N: Written for this prompt at the Livejournal community "comment_fic": "and the Speedo was one size too small."