milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Lorne's getting kind of fond of being asked to fill in, so when that oh-so-familiar napkin pops up as he settles into his barstool, he just smiles and gives Bar an affectionate pat before moving around to the other side and picking up the specials board.

Specials

Terminator Stout
Old Chub
Athosian spiced ale
Sweetwater Motor Boat

There's a theme of sorts, but it pretty much only makes sense to Lorne.

[ooc: ~~Open 'til 6ish PST.~~ No new threads, please. Have fun, go crazy, threadhop like mad!]

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"Thanks," Lorne says dryly.

"That's what he's afraid of though. Because he knows it'll mean...well...losing you."

Why that's a problem for Ianto, Lorne still hasn't quite worked out, but it does seem to be, and that's enough.

"Yeah well," John shrugs. "He's a kid, he thinks he can have his cake and eat it." Then he chuckles and leans forward toward Lorne. "You know what's the kicker?" he asks, a bit boozily. "He's making cow eyes at this bloke, and they've barely kissed. And me, I've had me prick so far up the bloke's arse he could have spurted come out his nose." He laughs. "S'a funny old world, innit?"

It's probably a very, very good thing Lorne isn't drinking anything, or he more than likely would have been spurting something out his nose himself.

"Yeah," he says, a little hoarsely. "Well...like you said...he's a kid. Still believes in romance and all that, I'm sure."

"Romance?" John takes a long pull of his pint and slams the glass down, slopping a bit onto the bar. "I told him I'd take him to Monaco, I cleaned up my whole bleedin' room for him and moved half my shite out. I drank coffee." He grimaces. "I danced. Bloody romance."

"So keep that up," Lorne says, well aware he's probably unqualified to give advice in this situation. He picks up a rag and starts discreetly cleaning the stout from the bartop. "Make yourself such an important part of his life that if this other guy ever does snap his fingers, Ianto won't even think twice about who to pick. Make yourself indispensable."

John shakes his head slowly. He takes a last drag on his cigarette and stabs it out in the ashtray that's conveniently close to hand. "I can't compete with a figment of his imagination," he says in a resigned voice. "He's a kid. He's built this bloke up in his mind into something ... perfect." He sighs and takes another drink of his pint. "And as long as I put up with it he doesn't have to make a choice. I've thirty years on him, I know better," he says flatly. "It's up to me." He finishes the pint. "I'll do it. Just not looking forward to it." He pushes the empty glass toward Lorne. "Another."

Lorne frowns as he pulls another pint.

He opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it again and silently hands the pint over.

After all, he'd said as much to Ianto, hadn't he?

John takes the pint, takes a sip, lights another cigarette. Sits there with his elbow on the bar and his head in his hand, drinking, smoking, thinking...

[ooc: *hugs John*]

[ooc: Thank you so much for letting John vent.]

[ooc: Hey, no worries. Lorne's been there in my other game. (And by 'there', I mean exactly there.) He needed lots of people to vent to as well.]

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