Author: Milady Dragon
Warning: Egregious use of ties, unnecessary nudity (well, Jack liked it!), lots of James Bond references, bondage, silliness, fake angel wings, theft of well-known First Doctor quotes, and the usual crack.
Spoilers: None really
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, I would have treated it better
Author's Note: It's been a while since I've written an On-Verse story, and this was one done for the Long Live Ianto Cliche Bingo, Prompt: Kidnappings and Abductions. It's also yet another addition to the Ianto Jones Society story line, begun in On How to Spend New Years Eve and followed up in xrai_namere 's lovely IJS universe and several other of my stories.
Summary: Ianto is kidnapped by a group of naked people in ties just as he was about to ravage Jack on the invisible lift. Who are they, and how dare they interrupt his sexy times with Jack?
Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness were on their way back to the Hub, after an arousing bout of Weevil hunting that left both of them so hyped on adrenaline that it was taking all their will power not to rip each other’s clothes off in the middle of the Plass.
“C’mon,” Jack pouted. “I need you!”
God, that pout was deadly…and even though Ianto knew he’d come back, he really didn’t want to add ‘Death by Pout’ to the repertoire he was quickly amassing, thanks to Torchwood.
Ianto really wanted to capitulate. No, what he really wanted to do was tear Jack’s trousers off and bugger him silly on the invisible lift. They hadn’t had lift sex in ages.
“We’re almost there,” he answered, bravely trying to battle Jack’s hands away from his body at the same time he was doing the exact same things to his lover. “I don’t want to have Andy bail us out of jail again for indecent behavior.”
“Making love to you is never indecent,” Jack averred, the pout changing to a leer in nought point two seconds. “These silly 21st century humans are just too primitive to get that.”
They were so close to the lift that Ianto could almost feel Jack’s trousers come off when twelve forms suddenly appeared around them.
And they were all naked, except for various colored ties done up in perfect half-Windsors around their necks.
It was a testament to that nakedness that their appearance completely floored both men; Jack in the process of grabbing Ianto by the crotch.
When asked about it later, Ianto honestly couldn’t remember what had happened. All he knew was that he’d been kidnapped right out from under Jack’s groping hands, and that he was distinctly pissed off about it. He’d been looking forward to lift sex!
The next thing he knew, Ianto appeared in what looked like the casino lobby from “Casino Royale” (the Daniel Craig version, not the Peter Sellers one) and his kidnappers were bowing and scraping and calling him Lord and Master.
One eyebrow went up. “Excuse me?”
“You are Lord and Master, our God,” one of them – a pale young man wearing a red and silver tie – answered, kowtowing quite nicely.
“No, really.” Ianto wanted to laugh. “Okay, who put you up to this? Was it the Doctor? No, this is more of a Rory Pond sort of joke. He’s always going on about the whole ‘Coffee God’ thing.” He glanced around the fancy casino, trying to find the TARDIS.
“I assure you,” the young man said, “this is no joke. Let us show you around, and you shall see we’re quite earnest in our worship of you.”
His so-called followers promptly ushered him through the casino, showing him the immense building that Ianto had found himself in. The more he saw, the more he realized that this place was a pastiche of every James Bond set Ianto could think of.
This has to be some sort of really weird dream. Had Jack spiked his coffee with something hallucinogenic?
Eventually his entourage showed him into a bedroom that was an exact match of the one from “Octopussy” without a strategically-placed Maud Adams and promptly dressed him in one of the finest tuxedos he’d ever seen.
It was then he noticed the artwork on the walls.
It looked suspiciously like the artwork Jack was fond of doing for Ianto’s fanfics.
He’d never been more turned on by stick figure sex in his life.
“Excuse me,” he asked to the bustling throng that was taking up most of the room in what must have been his bedroom, “but just where am I?”
“You are on our planet, Eyejayess,” the red/silver tie wearer – who must have been some sort of leader – answered, bowing so low Ianto was worried that he’d hit his head on the floor.
It took Ianto two seconds to make the connection. When he did, his jaw pretty much hit the floor.
“Wait,” he said incredulously, “are you telling me this planet is based on my website?”
He wondered if he’d somehow hit his head while and Jack had been Weevil hunting and that this was some sort of really bizarre dream brought on by concussion, or else his hallucinogenic theory was holding up just fine, thank you very much.
The smiles he was getting brought home to him that this was, indeed, what they were telling him.
Ianto rolled his eyes. “You have got to be kidding me.”
The one in the red and silver tie – who introduced himself as Yansboi15 – looked confused. “We would never do that to you, oh Wearer of the Pinstripes.”
That was something else…the flowery titles they kept coming up for him. Eternity was going to be a very long time if they kept that up.
“Our ancestors, over a thousand years ago,” Yansboi15 continued with the fervor of the truly Converted, “left the Earth, carrying your mighty legacy with us. We founded this world and based it on the principles of great coffee, purple prose, stick figure sex, and James Bond. When we eventually invented time travel, we decided to go back in time and bring you here, the better for us to worship your Coffee Godness.”
Ianto had seen a lot of bizarre things in his time with Torchwood, but this took the biscuit. “And if I didn’t want to come here?”
That question made every one of the aliens to stop in shock.
And that was when Ianto Jones got his best lesson in bondage.
With every tie in the place.
The throne was modeled on the one Solitaire had used in “Live and Let Die”. Only Ianto was pretty sure that Solitaire had never been strapped down in it with every color necktie under the sun.
There was even a neon green one. It hurt his eyes to look at it.
Jack had done his best to teach Ianto the best ways to get out of any sort of bondage situation. What Ianto didn’t know about knots and locks simply wasn’t worth knowing. But the sheer number of ties defeated him, and he had no choice but to sit there and let them take care of his needs.
At least they let him get up a couple of times a day to go to the bathroom. He would have hated to ruin the nice tuxedo he was wearing. It was apparently made of a material that was wrinkle-resistant; Ianto would have made a fortune back on Earth with it, not even taking into consideration how much wear and tear he would save his own wardrobe.
They kept him entertained by putting on dramatic presentations of some of the more lurid of the stories from the IJS website. There were several he wasn’t familiar with, so they must have come much later, and one in particular that Ianto swore he’d ban f he ever saw it.
He also realized that Jack would have given his right arm – not that it wouldn’t have grown back – to have been in Ianto’s throne when the actors started having full-blown sex in front of him.
They didn’t even try to take care of that particular problem, and it drove Ianto nuts.
He wondered if someone could die from sexual frustration. If so, he was well on his way.
Ianto hated to admit it, but he really needed Jack to show up to rescue him. He didn’t want to think he couldn’t get himself out of any situation, but in this he was pretty helpless. If he wasn’t tied to his throne, he was being escorted by at least a dozen people to the lavatory, or the bedroom – where he was tied down once more – or to get the bare enough exercise that kept his muscles from stiffening up.
And then, one day, as his so-called followers were giving a rather spirited rendition of a sort of alternative universe story that had Ianto as a whip-wielding lord of the manor and Jack as his stable-boy, a face he’d never thought he’d see practically slunk into the throne room.
The Eleventh Doctor looked out of place with his bow tie, but honestly Ianto didn’t care.
Not that he’d ever admit that, and fully intended on giving the Time Lord as much grief as possible about it at the first opportunity.
Not to mention the fact that he was wearing nothing but the bow tie was a plus.
And with him…was that Rory? Well, it looked as if he certainly knew how to keep Amy happy.
With an odd combination of hand gestures, eyebrow wriggling, and a weird shimmying move that looked like a cross between the Twist and getting a hot poker up the arse, the Doctor managed to convey that they had a rescue plan, and to sit tight.
Like Ianto had a choice in the matter.
The Lord Ianto in the presentation had just bent the stable boy Jack over a spangle-festooned vaulting horse that was standing in for a bale of hay, the stable boy’s trousers down around his ankles in order to punish him with the riding crop, when a sudden trumpet fanfare echoed throughout the room, bringing the cringe-worthy acting to a screeching halt.
Ianto just caught a glimpse of the Doctor hiding what looked like his sonic screwdriver behind his back.
A flash of light appeared in the center of the room, just barely missing the lord of the manor and his still-raised crop and sending the would-be whipper reeling back against the bare arse of the intended whippee.
When the light faded, it was all Ianto could do not to either gasp in shock…or laugh out loud. He chose to gasp, because he was pretty sure any laughter that would come out would have been slightly hysterical.
Jack stood there, dressed in nothing but a pair of very fluffy white wings.
Oh, and the eye make-up made him look like some sort of Vegas show-girl…um, show-guy. No, definitely girl.
It didn’t matter that Jack was all man; girly make-up trumped being hung like a horse any day.
Jack winked; oh good God no, was he wearing false eyelashes? Then he turned to look at the various revelers, putting on a superior air should have been difficult to do in his current state of nakedness but this was Jack Harkness, after all. If anything else, he’d have beaten everyone else in the room in a tape measure test easily.
Hm…maybe not Rory, though. Amy must be really satisfied.
“Kneel!” Jack thundered. “Kneel before your god and show him the respect he deserves!”
Well, that certainly got their attention. Ianto would have been surprised if the lot of them didn’t get away with some sort of knee injury by hitting the floor that hard.
Ianto simply stared at this lover, as he spun around, staring at the Eyejayesses - Eyejayessi? – as they proceeded to grovel. His attention was drawn away by tugging at his wrists; both Rory and the Doctor were working on all the ties keeping Ianto in his throne. As his hands were released, it took all the control he had not to hiss at the pins and needles feeling.
To get his mind off it, he continued to watch Jack’s performance, which was so much better than what had been put on at any time previously.
There were murmurs among the kneeling followers; apparently they were beginning to recognize Jack. It made Ianto wonder why they didn’t know him before, because he certainly hadn’t been wearing glittery make-up earlier.
“You took him away,” Jack went on, looking down his nose at the Eyejayessi. “You took him away from ME!” He brought out the pout, which did wonders.
“We’re sorry, oh Lord of the Greatcoat,” Yansboi15 stammered. “But we needed our god!”
“And I didn’t?”
Ianto couldn’t believe this was actually working. That Jack was keeping everyone occupied while the Doctor and Rory got him out of all the ties. He heard Rory mumble something about why Ianto was still dressed while they’d had to infiltrate the place naked, and he couldn’t hold back the smirk as the Doctor whispered back that Rory had nothing to be ashamed of.
Yansboi15 was trying to babble some sort of answer to Jack. Ianto couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the young man, but at the same time his extremities were tingling so badly he wanted nothing more than to beat the guy upside the head with his newly awakening limbs.
“Enough,” Jack snapped. “I’m taking my god home with me. Do not follow, or suffer my wrath.”
By that time Ianto was free, so when everyone in the room finally turned to look at him he was standing, his wrinkle-free tuxedo falling in perfect lines around him. “I think I’ll just be going,” he said breezily, shooting his cuffs just like he’d seen Sean Connery do. “Now, while it’s been…interesting, to say the least, I really must get back to my other worshippers now.”
“But, Master of Looking Good in Red,” Yansboi15 exclaimed, “you cannot go! We dedicated so much time to finding you in the first place!”
“He’ll be back…someday,” Jack intoned. “You are not yet ready for his Magnificence. Study your history texts, and write your fanfics, and he shall smile down upon you.”
Jack was laying it on a little thick, wasn’t he? It was all Ianto could do not to roll his eyes at all the melodrama, even though he had to admit it was working. “Some day, I shall be back,” he said. “Yes, I shall be back. Until then, there must be no tears, no regrets, and no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I’m not mistaken in mine.”
“I think that’s my line,” the Doctor hissed, somewhat angrily.
Ianto simply smiled. It wasn’t his fault that the First Doctor hadn’t trademarked that particular speech. Besides, it was catchy.
“I think we should be leaving,” Rory sighed.
Ianto agreed. “It’s been fun, but I must dash.”
As he passed by Jack, he reached out and pinched a bare arse-cheek.
He never could resist a naked Jack…even one with horrible eye make-up and fake wings.
They reached the TARDIS without being mobbed.
As soon as the doors closed, Ianto was laughing. He couldn’t help it. The situation was just so ridiculous, and the rescue had been almost sillier than the circumstances. “Just what possessed you three to come to my rescue like that?” He waved his hands, indicating their various states of undress, pausing only at Jack’s…disguise.
“Well,” the Doctor said, jumping around the TARDIS’ console like an insane Riverdancer, “when Jack called to say you’d been kidnapped, it didn’t take much to track you…honestly, their time travel technology was leaking Artron energy like a leaking Artron energy thingy…but once we saw what planet you were taken to, it was nothing at all to figure out what to do.”
“And of course,” Jack drawled, “I did tell them that your kidnappers were completely naked except for the ties.” His eyes raked down Ianto’s body, and if the younger immortal hadn’t been used to it by now he would have blushed. “Gotta say, I like the tux, Mr. Jones. I can see some spy role-play in our future – “
“Be that as it may,” the Doctor interrupted what sounded like was going to be a very good idea, “once we’d tracked them, we knew what to do to rescue you. Oh, and I personally wrecked their time travel device. That way you don’t have to worry about them showing up at random moments.”
Something occurred to Ianto, and he had to know if he was right. “Doctor…is that it?”
“What?” the Time Lord asked. “Was that what?”
“Was that the reason you keep on with that spoilers crap all the time? That I become worshipped in the future?”
The Doctor blew threw his lips dismissively, the raspberry echoing through the upper area of the console room. “Of course not! No, that’s much better than being a god. Believe me, being worshipped is no fun. I certainly didn’t care for it!”
Ianto was almost pitifully glad for that.
“I’m gonna get dressed,” Rory said. “I feel a bit of a draft.” He headed off, up a set of stairs toward the living quarters.
Ianto felt two arms go around him. “What say you and I go find my old room, and we can take up where we left off?”
He leaned back into the embrace. “Only if you take off that make-up.”
He could feel Jack’s pout through the back of his head. “I’ll have you know this is the height of fashion on Talax Prime.”
“Then remind me never to go there.” Ianto turned in Jack’s arms. “Other than that…I think I can come up with a few things we can do with those wings.”
“Can’t you two wait until we get back to Cardiff?” the Doctor shouted. “And no, I’m not jealous, so don’t even say it, Jack.”
“Then you should get us back home right away, Doc. I just can’t keep my hands off this gorgeous Welshman.”
There was a slight ‘bing’ from the console. “And we’re here. Now, I’m going to get dressed myself. I want you both out of the TARDIS by the time I get back. You both give her terrible ideas, and I don’t want you corrupting her.” He practically flounced out of the room, leaving Jack and Ianto alone.
“You’re going to have to tell me what all happened,” Jack said, snagging his coat from where it had been hanging on what looked like a battered wooden hall tree.
“Later,” Ianto said. “First things first, I’m going to purge some of the worst fiction from the IJS website…”