Ianto smiled at the pasta theft and tucked into his own meal, twirling pasta round his fork neatly and managing to eat without making a mess. No napkin bib, though. That would have been a touch too much, wouldn't it?
"No, no we do have to talk. It's just so painful. We could play question and answer, if you'd rather. Get everything out in the open." Ianto pat at his lips and reached for his wine for a long sip. Outwardly, he was calm and cool and slightly amused and slightly sarcastic. Inside was another story entirely, when all he wanted to do was just trust Jack again and couldn't understand why he didn't. He simply sat behind his mental suit of armor.
Maybe he needed to get very drunk. Ianto blinked at the bottle of wine with this sudden idea. It'd take a fair bit, he was a rugby loving Welshman, after all, but didn't they say that at the bottom of every bottle of wine was a little truth?