Television
"What you doing, Ianto?" Jack asked, walking into the front room of Ianto's apartment. He had come over for some much needed tension release, and after a promised text from Ianto stating he was in Jack's favourite boxers waiting for him, with hand cuffs and tingling lube at the ready, Jack hadn't expected to find Ianto sat on the sofa, in a pair of unflattering sweat pants, eyes glued to the television set.
Ianto put up a finger signalling for Jack to be quiet. Jack made a pouting sound and slumped down next to him. He stared at Ianto, at least he was topless. He leaned in and started to kiss along his shoulder blades, offended when Ianto pushed him away. "Jack...quit it."
"But you promised me sexy times." Jack whined looking at him, much like a child throwing a tantrum.
"Yes, I did." Ianto said pressing pause.
Jack grinned and went to move closer to him, but Ianto pressed his palm out flat and pushed him back down. "I promised you sexy times an hour ago, when you said you'd be here at six. It is now seven, and I am no longer...lets just say I took care of my own problems."
"I'm sure I can make you have another one." Jack said teasingly, thoughts of Ianto relieving himself only made his problem get bigger.
"Nope." Ianto grinned, he pressed play and turned back to the television.
"But you've seen this a hundred times!" Jack stressed. "You know every word to this film, in both English and Welsh!"
"Your point, Jack?" Ianto asked, looking at him innocently.
Jack groaned. "If I stay quiet, can we have sexy times later?"
"Nope. Its a marathon tonight." Ianto smiles.
Jack stared at him in disbelief, he pushed himself off the sofa and headed to the bathroom where he'd take care of his own problem. As he flushed the toilet ten minutes later, Jack thought of what could have been that evening and slammed his fists against the wall. Bloody television, always ruining his fun.
