likesthecoat: (hips)
likesthecoat ([personal profile] likesthecoat) wrote2008-08-16 04:24 pm

OOM: Ianto's room

Ianto's room is just like any number of midlevel hotel rooms in any number of hotels around the world: double bed, desk, chair, mirror, bureau.

He guides John carefully to the bed. "Let's get you lying down--there we go--"

[identity profile] lovethisplanet.livejournal.com 2007-04-01 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
As usual, Ianto, above and beyond the call of duty. Thank you for this.

[identity profile] morethanteaboy.livejournal.com 2007-04-01 02:27 am (UTC)(link)
I may have got a little carried away. But how often do I get to express my opinion on such things?

[identity profile] sato-toshiko.livejournal.com 2007-06-24 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
No, I didn't really need it Ianto. Still, it was a good read. better than sitting around doing nothing. Also, it reminded me I still haven't named my journal.

[identity profile] red-head-magic.livejournal.com 2007-06-24 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
...why couldn't orientation to the Organization have been that clean and straight forward...?

That was pretty awesome...even though I really had no reason to read it

[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com 2008-08-16 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)
John stumbles to the bed and sits down on the edge, then flops backward, his feet still on the floor. "Grrrrrnnnn," he groans.

It's possible the room is still moving even after he's stopped.

[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com 2008-08-16 10:46 pm (UTC)(link)
John tries to snort but it comes out sounding more like a belch. "'Course I do. The old Bushmills." He thinks very, very carefully. "Not so many, either. Eight? Ten? 'M no piker. 'E's a piker."

[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com 2008-08-16 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
"I know!" John says, rather a bit too loudly. "'E's a fuckin' lightweight."

Then, gods help us all, he starts to sing:

"Bugger off, you bastards bugger off!
Bugger off, you bloody bastards bugger off!"

[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com 2008-08-16 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"...Like a herd of sodding pigs who refuse to leave the trough
You’ll get no more this evening, so bugger off!"

John leans up on his elbows and says, "Tha's the thing with heroes. They don't think." John points to his forehead, where the thinking happens.

Then he looks kind of green and lies down again.

[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com 2008-08-16 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
John opens his eyes, closes them, opens them again. Wide.

With utter urgency, he says one word: "Bucket."

[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com 2008-08-16 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Without further ado, John rolls over, hangs his head over the side into the bed, and

*eaguhhhhhchchchch*

up it all comes. Fortunately, his aim is true.

He grabs the bucket from Ianto and retches into it once or twice more, until it's just dry reflex. Then he puts the bucket on the floor and flops over on his back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Holy shit."

[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com 2008-08-16 11:21 pm (UTC)(link)
John nods and coughs. Rinses and spits, rinses and spits. Looks up beseechingly and asks, "Don't suppose there's a chance of a cuppa tea?"

[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com 2008-08-16 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
John nods and rolls over.

The moment Ianto leaves the room, he's out cold, snoring like a buffalo.