Jack stared admiringly at Ianto’s outfit — deep red shirt, open halfway down his chest, matt black leather trousers that looked like they’d been painted on, and matching waistcoat. He looked good enough to eat. There was just one thing worrying Jack.
“You look positively sinful, but are you sure you can breathe wearing those?”
“Trust me, Jack,” Ianto purred, winking, “I can do a whole lot more in these than just breathe. They’re not as inflexible as they look.” With that he bent over and touched his toes to prove it.
Jack's jaw dropped and his brain left the building.