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Entry tags:
Challenge 864 - Not my style
Title: Not my style
Character: Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 864 - Measure at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: There are things in Ianto's life that make Jack uncomfortable. A double drabble.
‘Stop fidgeting,’ Ianto said, not looking up from the chaise lounge where he was currently sipping tea from a fine bone china teacup and saucer set and taking a ramble through a broadsheet newspaper on the highly polished coffee table in front of him.
‘I don't like suits,’ Jack said.
‘You like my suits.’
‘That's different.’
‘I can tell,’ came the droll reply, ‘but if you could stay still long enough for the tailor to take your measurements, that would be appreciated.’
‘Easy!’ Jack scolded, swatting away the foreign hand and tape. ‘That's my crotch, and, strange to say, I've gotten used to that area being restricted access only.’
Ianto grinned over his teacup. ‘Oh, have you now? Here I was thinking you'd enjoy a bit of inside leg action.’
‘Oh, you're hilarious,’ Jack said, frowning as the tailor ignored the insults and kept on wrapping tape around his hips, waist, chest and all the way up into his armpits. All this Saville Row, hoity-toity nonsense was for people like Ianto who relished picking out fabrics and being treated like royalty. Give him good old fashioned army surplus any day of the week.
‘Are you sure we couldn't just elope?’
‘Stop fidgeting,’ Ianto said, not looking up from the chaise lounge where he was currently sipping tea from a fine bone china teacup and saucer set and taking a ramble through a broadsheet newspaper on the highly polished coffee table in front of him.
‘I don't like suits,’ Jack said.
‘You like my suits.’
‘That's different.’
‘I can tell,’ came the droll reply, ‘but if you could stay still long enough for the tailor to take your measurements, that would be appreciated.’
‘Easy!’ Jack scolded, swatting away the foreign hand and tape. ‘That's my crotch, and, strange to say, I've gotten used to that area being restricted access only.’
Ianto grinned over his teacup. ‘Oh, have you now? Here I was thinking you'd enjoy a bit of inside leg action.’
‘Oh, you're hilarious,’ Jack said, frowning as the tailor ignored the insults and kept on wrapping tape around his hips, waist, chest and all the way up into his armpits. All this Saville Row, hoity-toity nonsense was for people like Ianto who relished picking out fabrics and being treated like royalty. Give him good old fashioned army surplus any day of the week.
‘Are you sure we couldn't just elope?’
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