Right in the middle of a particularly energetic session in Jack’s bunk, the poor ancient and overstrained piece of furniture gave up the ghost, dumping both Jack and Ianto unceremoniously onto the cold concrete.
“Ow!” Ianto yelped as his arse struck the floor rather painfully. His head was better off, thanks to the pillow.
“Oops,” Jack replied, disentangling himself and giving Ianto a helping hand to extract himself from the wreckage. “Don’t worry; a few replacement slats and it’ll be good as new.”
“Screw that,” Ianto muttered. “Let it rest in pieces. Tomorrow we’re going shopping for a proper bed.”