spacehopper | John Hart's Training

Current Location: Ty Warner Penthouse, NYC

Entry tags:

[rp]

John Hart's Training

((Directly after this post))

The message to John Hart was sweet. Jack smiled into his cuff. "You're the best there is, John, and I need the best. I'll make it worth your while." He stated the year code for the other former Time Agent. "In the Four Seasons, the Ty Warner penthouse. It has a pool on the balcony. Seriously."

After that, Jack slipped into the bathroom with Ianto and his 'eye candy' outfit. Tight black jeans. No shirt.

"I think it might be too obvious," Jack murmured. "What about that tight red shirt we bought the other day with New York and his fiancee?" It would only be a matter of time for John to arrive.

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Ianto rolled his eyes at Hart, and went into the bedroom, changing into the swim trunks. He grabbed a copy of The Canterbury Tales out of his suitcase and slipped into the pool.

That felt good. He sighed in relief. He needed that. Let them...do whatever it is that they were doing. He was going to relax. He flipped open the book. It was written in the original Middle-English.

When Ianto left, John looked up at Jack with a serious look on his face, "So what? You ask me here to help him stay alive so you to can shag like bunnies?"

Come on Jack, listen to what you're asking of him. "Didn't think even you'd be that cold."

To john, time was different, he saw Jack a lot more often than Jack saw him, and now he was shacked up with Ianto. Ugh, he felt so unloved.

That was so very true. John saw Jack every few months actually, stayed with him for a few more months, a year or two, and then it was big chunks of time for Jack and hardly any for John. Jack tugged John back over, arms around his narrow waist.

"Not everything's about sex. I just want to travel without having to worry about someone dying."

"So you're not shaggin' him then?" John glanced over, getting more than a little comfortable against Jack, head resting on his shoulder as he wrapped his own arms around him.

"And most things are about sex, s'one of the rehabs I ended up in."

Ianto lounged in the pool, blue eyes pouring over the paperback. He had a much nicer copy back in his flat in Cardiff, but he'd never read the leather-bound addition in water. It was expensive, old, and had sentimental value. This, on the other hand, he'd picked up from a bookstore in New York.

He glanced over. Lovely. They were cuddling again.

"You might feel differently one-- Oh, who am I kidding?" Jack laughed and kissed John's temple before he let him go. He glanced in the mirrored glass doors and saw Ianto on the other balcony in the pool with his book. He looked like some sort of fantasy creature, lounging like that.

His eyes lingered.

"Can you try to be nice, John? Go say hello again? I enjoy your company, but not if you're going to be shoot em up happy."

"One what? One day?" John looked up at him as he moved away, following his gaze as he looked at Ianto.

"Have you actually thought what you're asking me here? It's like asking your ex wife to be nice to your new wife and sleep in the next room while you're happily shagging away. But what you don't think about it how much your ex might love you or how hurt they might be by seeing you with someone else."

Ianto glanced over. By their posture, he guessed they were arguing...again. Hart really was like an angry ex-wife. It wasn't like Ianto and Jack were getting married. They were shacking up in a very nice hotel suite.

Yes, they were shagging, but it wasn't a bloody relationship. He rolled his eyes and stood up, stepping out of the pool.

"So you're still jealous? Even when you were my wife -- and I'm amused you'll call yourself that now -- you slept with more people than I have in several life times." There was a difference, of course. Jack went through cycles were his shags turned into relationships.

John Hart had been in one of those cycles.

"That was years ago. I'm sure you've met other decent, pretty criminals to be with." Jack wasn't taking this seriously because he assumed John was just being difficult as always.

"Years ago for you maybe, not as long for me." He sighed once more, moving to sit down, away from Jack. He felt a little like he was being pulled back and forth.

"None of them are you Jack, none of them," and that was all john had to say on that matter.

Ianto slipped on a robe, and answered the suite door, taking the room service from the waiter. He thanked him politely, handing over a tip, and walked back to the main room.

They wouldn't be picnicking this time. He cleaned off the small table for four in the main living space, and set the food on it, removing it from the cartoons. He'd ordered potato gnoochi with a butter creme sauce and a light asparagus salad. He really needed to ask Jack if they could move into someplace smaller, but with a real kitchen. He was perfectly capable of making this himself. The cost was atrocious.

"Food's here," he called out.

"Only one Jack Harkness," he agreed before pausing. "No, scratch that. Several Jack Harknesses, but only one of me." He winked at John, not reading into his pout. He'd known the man for years and using sex and sexuality against anyone was one of Hart's big MOs. Jack wasn't falling for that love stuff either.

John had lied so often to so many people that it meant very little anymore.

"Food," Jack said cheerfully, heading back into the penthouse. "What did you end up ordering, Yan?"

How John felt about Jack was no lie. The man should know that by now. He always came when Jack needed him, and even when he didn't.

Feet still up on the balcony, John stayed there, sulking just a little bit.

"Food," he deadpanned, glancing out at the balcony. "Is he going to sulk the entire time he's here?" Ianto sighed softly. There went the lovely time there were having...

Bloody Hart. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't worry about it," Jack murmured, sitting down to dinner. "He's always like this. He'll come around." Jack dug in. Nothing could keep him from food. Especially such delicious food!

John stayed put, even if the food in there did smell lovely, he wasn't ready to play nice. Had Ianto gone to the pool naked, he might have changed his mind and been polite.

But now.

There needed to be some give and take in all of this, they just weren't offering him anything in return.

Ianto slipped off the robe, and put it down on his chair, sitting down on top of it in his swim-trunks. He saw no reason to change when he needed to take a shower now anyway.

"I don't think this is going to work Jack..." Ianto said, glancing at Hart out of the corner of his eyes.

Well, he certainly wasn't going to go down on his knees to convince Hart to help him, even if that would work...

Jack would have to agree. He front at Ianto and sighed. "He really is the best... I'm not sure why he's being difficult." Jack Harkness was blind was all. Terribly blind. "There's other people we can go and see. I knew quite a few weapons masters."

Jack knew quite a few of just about everyone. He had made many, many important contacts over his long life. With his cuff, he could visit any one of them with ease.

"What do you think you'd be most interested in learning?"

He wasn't going to beg John.

And in was about ten minutes later that John headed back into the hotel room, snagging some food and a bottle of vodka and settled down on the couch. No, he wasn't going to be social but he was going to make sure they knew he was here.

Okay, so he was a little interested in what this poncy boy could learn, looking at him he seemed the kind who'd cry if he broke a nail.

"Hand to hand, probably," Ianto said, taking a bite of food. "Something so if I lose my gun, like in the Beacons, I'm not a punching bag. I can fight, but drunken Welsh bar brawling doesn't count as a skill set."

He leaned over, knees on his chair, and reached out with his finger, pointing to Jack's face. "Sauce...right there." He shrugged, leaning in farther, and licking the corner of Jack's mouth lightly, taking care of the problem.

Jack had just been lifting his napkin to take care of the sauce when he felt the tongue on his cheek and blinked. Ianto was rather against being publically intimate on any level. At least the Captain was not entirely dense. The pattern of Ianto's behavior had changed so he recognized it.

John's stayed as it usually was.

Grinning at the Welshman, he picked up his jealousy and shook his head. He and Hart were together a long time ago. It had tended, even for Hart's timeline, ten years before.

"Hand to hand. Hear that John? He wants to learn to grapple."

John was too busy downing the vodka while he watched Ianto's obvious action, to listen to a word that Welsh idiot was saying. "How about foot to face? My foot in his face, maybe even the family jewels?"

John wasn't one to ever mince words, he never had been, and Jack denying there was anything between them hurt and upset him some. But this public display...

Watch out eye candy, you might end up face first in your food.

Ianto rolled his eyes, sitting back his chair, arms crossed over his bare chest. He half wanted to ask John if it would make him happy if they both just whipped their cocks out and compared, end the argument once and for all.

"I'm willing to learn," he finally said, after a few moments of pushing down his annoyance. Acting like a child wasn't going to help any of them. Ianto was, to be honest, a bit ashamed of how jealous he was, and definitely of the way he was acting. Jack wasn't a bloody toy to be fought over. "And you might find out that I'm not so horrid."

"Oh, but you are sort of horrid," Jack tease with a grin, snickering lightly as he held glanced over his shoulder at John. Even sulking, the man had a fine form. He was older now, and it showed. Jack stayed young, but John Hart had more lines on his face each time he saw him.

He really needed to get Ianto a pair of those boots...

John use to wear them around, and just those and the coat, for days straight and drive Jack to some hard core fucking. Ah, the days of being mortal.

"Oh, someone shoot me, please," If there was any chance of getting drunk it would make things easier, but watching these two moon over each other like a happy couple was like a punch to the stomach, the heart, and the balls. Not that Jack would believe that.

Settling the empty bottle down he laid out on the couch, feet up on the arm-rest as she got himself comfortable comepletely. As much as he could in his clothes.

Tilting his head he might just be checking Ianto out a little.

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