elnysa | TEXT; UN: J.SHEPPARD

[ Very funny. John scowls at that, then around the room. ]

Don't judge me on the beds, they came with the place and there's no room to push them together. I'm looking for a bigger apartment with a proper bedroom.

[ So there. The room layout is not a choice, it's just a thing they're coping with. ]

And he's not, but his complete lack of social tact is pretty frightening.

[ Rodney McKay is an Experience. ]

[Most people find that pushing beds together creates more space, of course John finds the one layout that makes it impossible. But, the comment on the decor was more a distraction from the question he's getting to now.]

Though I assume he didn't rough you up with his lack of conversational finesse. So who did?

[ It's a long narrow room, Prior! He can't turn them and it's rented! Moving to a better layout is easier!

Anyway-- ]

No, but I'm pretty sure all his staff are nervous of his temper. Listen, we worked together on a military base for over four years. I was military lead on the base. When you're on a military base, there are military regulations that include everyone being straight. So, obviously we never discussed... the option not to be.

[ Thus, he doesn't know! John spreads his hands expansively. ]

I need to tell him but there's never a good time for anything and I have pretty much no idea what he'll say.

I know the military's opinion. Missing the last draft for Vietnam by about three months was the only thing saving me from having to strut to the registration center in a boa and pearls.

[Something he wouldn't have had the self-assurance to even think of, back in those baby-deer years. Praise be for a fortunate birth date.]

I also know how busy the ramble got in Fleet Week. I may be a pacifist but you can't say I've never helped our boys stiffen their... resolve. [A hand held palm up sharply delineates the point between something teasing and what's more serious. He's not being unsympathetic.] But - I understand the issue. Though I find it's hard to know what anyone will say until you tell them - how he responds is on him, not you. If you're stuck for what to say, I've always thought 'I'd like you to meet my boyfriend' rips the band-aid off quick.

Edited 2018-10-24 21:51 (UTC)

Might come over a little weird when he's already met him, but it's a solid start.

[ He begins working off his sweatpants, in the time honoured casual way of stepping on the end of one leg then pulling it all down. They weren't exactly tied tightly. ]

Anyway, I know I have to tell him -- and I get it, it's... not on me.

[ He picks up the damp sweatpants and set them aside, grabs the dry ones to shake out. ]

I'll figure it out, or else I guess he might.

[ Which would be easiest, if Rodney just brought it up first, but it seems reasonably unlikely. ]

Edited (HIT ENTER TOO EARLY) 2018-10-25 13:50 (UTC)

Well what did you call him when you met? If he's more than just a colleague, he might appreciate the heads up.

[More than being left to figure it out - honestly. Prior watches this process, arms tucked across his chest.]

And while I am keeping my eyes demurely diverted to prevent myself from falling into a swoon - you didn't answer my question.

Which one?

[ Since it wasn't actually intentional. Then he squints, realisation dawning. ]

You mean who roughed me up? Nobody -- not that I didn't see it happen, and I've gotten myself in trouble for trying to break things up, but nobody roughed me up for anything.

[ If you don't talk about it, nobody targets you for it -- problem solved! ]

Well those are some serious bruises for not having been the target.

[The question had slid in neatly when John was talking about his colleague, but Prior hadn't really assumed it was over anything related to this. There are enough situations John seems willing to wade straight into to leave the options wide open.]

I didn't ask what for, I asked who. What happened?

[ John scrunches up his face at the question. ]

I don't have serious bruises, Prior. It's just ingrained habit, and I need to unlearn it.

[ On the long list of traumas John knows he definitely has, this isn't one of them. It's nothing deep or tragic, it's just bad behaviour he taught himself to avoid being fired from a job he wanted to keep. ]

[You can't lift your arms properly but sure, not serious.

Once more with feeling:]

What happened?

[ John rolls his eyes expansively, because what is it with people picking on these things? ]

I tried to get people to tone down some hazing.

[ Which really is the sum of it. John was married, so nobody suspected him of anything beyond being soft. His easy, jokey rapport lent itself to deflecting people away from things without drawing too much attention. John's more scared of big bugs than he is of bullies. ]

[And that eyeroll wins a click of Prior's tongue.]

Stop getting pissy when people give a shit, we've been through this. Put your pants on and come here.

Yes ma'am.

[ He'll be as pissy as he wants, thank you!!

With pants on, though. He steps into them and hikes them up, disentangles his toga towel and lets the ties hang loose. Grabbing up the damp towel and clothing he carries them through to the bathroom, picking up the one he chucked through, and vaguely folds them to one side for washing properly later.

When he pads back out, he moves to the end of the bed the puppy is on and picks her up. Little lady, you do not get to hog this whole end of the bed for yourself, he wants to sit down too! ]

Anyway, we've heard a lot about me -- why don't you tell me what's new for you?

[ While he gently restrains the puppy who is now walking around in his lap trying to get comfortable again. ]

Me? Oh, nothing really. You know me - just your average shut-in.

[With John helpfully pinned down by the dog, Prior shifts a little closer and catches a finger under his shirt at the back. It looked bad enough from across the room.]

If the little shits who did this aren't barred yet, call me next time they show up. I'll have their room assignments accidentally mis-assigned. The golden shower parlour's usually free.

[ Oh.

Something suddenly dawns on John, and he half turns as if to see the marks when Prior lifts his t-shirt. ]

Wait, you meant that? Most of those are ancient -- actually most of them are from glass. Anything newer is generally some idiot slamming me into something but it doesn't hurt.

[ He's a bouncer, someone always bounces him right back! This genuinely doesn't even count as being roughed up to John, so he didn't even make the connection. ]

Then what did you mean?

[Prior traces his fingertips across the mottled pattern on John's back, as if testing the claim that the marks are old.]

It looked like it hurt when you took your shirt off.

[ What did he mean? Something else. He gives a vague shrug, still half looking back as Prior's fingers trace over the marks. Most are old, smallish imperfections on his back. There's one or two newer scrapes but nothing immediately bleeding, just scratches. ]

Well sure, my muscles are a little sore and I had gross wet t-shirt sticking to me, so I guess it wasn't fun.

[ But he's not actually going to die any time soon from it. He's had much worse. ]

And everybody knows, wet t-shirts are Thursday night's special. Mm, well, if nothing's wrong then I take it back.

[He smooths John's shirt back where it should be, resting a hand on his shoulder and then his chin on his hand.]

You can get pissy with me for giving a shit.

Oh, well since I have permission now...

[ Don't give him an inch, Prior. ]

I didn't say I wouldn't still bitch about it.

[Somewhere in John's periphery, Prior smiles.]

So how is? Ianto? I never seem to catch him - you should tell him if he can get over his trepidation of setting foot in our little den of iniquity, he's welcome to help me with stock again.

[ Den of iniquity. John turns more inward toward Prior now his t-shirt isn't being fussed with, puppy still fussing at his hands in his lap sleepily. ]

You be nice to him, he's not got a lot of confidence. Needs a little building up. I persuaded him into finding a job, though, and he's been working at a cafe. Which is good, he's been bringing me things left-over from the bakery!

I'm very nice. I saved him from the big bad cougar, took him in like a little orphan and showed him the wonders of the place. Well, a few of them.

[Prior pulls an obliging ooh face in response to the bakery treats.]

What shook it? His confidence? [Because it doesn't take a seer to notice that. Prior has at least mastered the art of hiding most of his own insecurities under a beautiful veneer of bullshit and bravado. Ianto wears his like a sign round the neck.]

I get the impression it's not exactly a single thing and more a series of things.

[ He shuffles the puppy in his lap as she rolls in a way that is dangerously close to rolling her right off his lap and glances down at her, frowns a little. ]

It's not exactly my story to tell.

[ John is a gossip, but he doesn't really want to gossip about someone else's unhappy life backstory. ]

Fair enough.

[Circumstances being what they are, Prior rarely pushes anyone for details when he has a choice about it.]

In my experience, people who feel that anxious about being exposed usually learn to build walls fairly fast. Still, he's young, and maybe here he won't have to.

[ John's not sure about that, but then again maybe Ianto is different with other people. Maybe he walls them out, whereas with John he's walling them both in together -- trying to rip down any barriers John tries to erect between them. ]

The number of young people here makes me feel old.

[ Not just Ianto, all the kids too -- all wanting to earnestly do things. Some of them with their giant gundams. ]

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