Beta: The amazing, wonderful and fabulous jooles34
Characters: Ianto/OMC, mentions of Ianto/Lisa, Ianto/OFC and Janto
Rating, Warnings: I'm bad with ratings, urm, possibly Mature-ish. Some rude words. Some allusions to self harm. Extremely gentle D/s
Disclaimer:Whilst I do claim to own my ocs, I don't own the world or characters of Torchwood, but they all play so well together that it would be mean to split them up!
Summary: Ianto decides to use his suspension to reconnect with himself
Spoilers: None that I can think of. Unless you've never seen TW or Who.
Latest chapter, and we're back in the 'present' day. Hope you enjoy, please leave comments. I'll be ever so appreciative *waggles eyebrows*
A constant muffled bleeping brought Lucca out of his reverie. He smiled to himself as he remembered how that evening had gone; Cat doing her best interrogation thinly disguised as polite questioning, Ianto shy and doing his self-deprecating act, finally relaxing as he realised that Cat wasn’t out to trap him. And then later, Cat slamming him up against a wall and letting him know in no uncertain terms that he was to leave Ianto’s virtue alone, for a good while at least: “He reeks of your pheromones, and it’s a miracle that he appears to be somewhat resistant. No cheating. If he wants you, he’ll have you, but you have to be patient.” Good times.
A check on his wrist strap showed Lucca that it had been 15 minutes since he had left Ianto to shower. He grinned and put the finishing touches to his ensemble. As usual he was dressed all in black, although unlike his daytime apparel, this was tighter and the t-shirt had a slight shimmer. He lined his eyes, gently rubbing to give a smudged look, then applied mascara. Batting his lashes at the mirror, he blew himself a kiss before gathering up his jewellery and heading to Ianto’s room. While putting on his rings and fastening the heavy bracelet on the opposite wrist to his wrist strap, he checked the time. Seventeen minutes gone. Excellent.
He walked into Ianto’s room without knocking and was confronted with the sight of a fresh from the shower Ianto with a white towel slung loosely around his waist, picking through the clothes on the bed. Lucca looked pointedly at him.
“You have three minutes.”
“Underwear?” Ianto raised an eyebrow.
“Everything you need is there.” Lucca worked to keep his voice even. It had been too long since they had played these games and he had forgotten how much of a brat Ianto could be. He looked at his wrist strap. “And now you have two minutes.”
“I’m not going out without underwear,” Ianto said, as Lucca looked at him, completely implacable. “Again.”
“Do I have to dress you?” The question carried more menace than it ordinarily would.
“I am not going out without…”
“Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time,” Lucca cut him off and grinned evilly. “And I gave you 20 minutes to get dressed, 20 minutes which have just expired incidentally, so I’m taking over now.”
Using his enhanced speed, Lucca crossed the room, snatched the towel off Ianto, threw it over into a corner and pushed him onto the bed, where he held the struggling man down easily using one hand on his stomach.
“No fair using upgrades.”
Ianto tried to get the leverage he needed to throw Lucca off balance, which was nigh on impossible. He did manage to land a few kicks though, which Lucca just laughed off and swatted his legs away, and then stopped and held them still.
The voice was deceptively calm and Ianto felt his insides go cold.
“Lucca, I’m sorry, I’ll get dressed.” Ianto started scrambling again, trying to get up. The hand that rested on his stomach never moved.
“Roll. Over.” The voice had an edge of steel to it.
“It’s really not as bad as you think, most of them were from moving Lisa, and the whole aftermath of that.” Ianto rolled onto his front anyway, wincing as he heard the hiss from Lucca.
“How long ago did you move Lisa?” The tone was neutral, Ianto shivered.
“Six months ago.”
“And how long was the aftermath?”
“Four days ago.”
“So why are some of these bruises, cuts and burns between two to four weeks old?”
“Umm, you know me, I’m clumsy. Plus that coffee machine is always temperamental. These things happen.”
“Does Jack know?”
The mention of Jack’s name, rather than any of the nicknames that he was usually referred to, made Ianto realise how seriously Lucca was taking this. To him it was no big deal; a bruise here, a burn there, it took the edge off things, made it all so much easier. He rolled onto his side and looked up at Lucca, who was completely blank.
“N-no. Told Cat earlier, we were at the snogging like teenagers stage, not the clothing removal stage.”
“And he didn’t notice that there was significantly less of you under those clothes?”
Fuck! Ianto had momentarily forgotten about his other coping mechanism.
“Ummm, no. Although to be fair, he didn’t know me before and Three is hardly the place to encourage three square meals and five a day.” Ianto tried to lift the mood with a grin.
“So he’s still an unobservant twat then.” Lucca looked grim. “I noticed the second I had to catch you. You weigh less than a papier mache serving bowl.”
“Depends on the papier mache.” Ianto let the corners of his mouth quirk.
Lucca was trying not to smile back as they both remembered a hot summer’s day and the sight of Cat covered in newspaper and glue screaming at them. The memory broke the mood and Lucca collapsed on the bed next to Ianto, howling with laughter.
“Anyway,” asked Ianto once they had both calmed down enough for speech. “How come you’re asking now? You’ve had me undressed at least once today, why not ask then?”
“Why do you think I was outside?” Lucca mimed smoking. “I was working up to it, I knew something serious had to have happened. I mean, you suddenly call out of the blue…” Lucca tailed off, looking over at Ianto. “You look like shit.”
Ianto nodded. “I’ve had better months.”
Ianto looked at Lucca, his blue eyes glinted. “So do I get taken out and shown off, or are we going to stay here and amuse ourselves?”
“Are you going to get dressed?”
“Are you going to provide me with underwear?” And just like that they were back where they started.
Lucca shook his head. “No underwear, no dressing.”
Ianto stuck his tongue out.
“Gods, you are such a brat.” Lucca responded
“Takes one to know one.”
Lucca raised his eyebrows and then grinned at Ianto who grinned back. He only had a couple of seconds before the grin changed and Lucca flipped him onto his back with ease.
“Oi!” Ianto exclaimed
“Shut up and stop squirming, you’ll only make this worse.”
And with that Lucca started to get the jeans on, hand steady on Ianto’s middle, preventing him from sitting up. He managed to pull them up and stood, grabbing the waistband of the jeans and pulling Ianto off the bed by them. Once he had him standing, he fastened them and slid the belt through the loops. Then he handed Ianto the t-shirt.
“I’ll never work out how you manage to do that,” grumbled Ianto as he pulled the shirt on.
“Years of practice, mainly running from jealous lovers.” Lucca made a twirling motion with his finger and Ianto obligingly spun for him. “That’s better, you look almost presentable.” He produced the black khol pencil and Ianto rolled his eyes. “Ah-ah,” Lucca said, wagging a finger. “My toy, so I get to make it pretty. Look up.”
Ianto did as he was told and Lucca expertly applied the eyeliner, smudging it a little.
“And as an added advantage, it hides dark circles,” Ianto remarked drily. Lucca gave him a look “You done making me pretty? Can we go now?”
“I ought to paint your nails,” Lucca said wistfully, grabbing one of Ianto’s hands.
“Great! Then we’ll all sit round for an hour while it dries,” Ianto said, snatching his hand back. “I thought we were going out.”
“Oh, we are,” Lucca purred, sliding around Ianto so that the young man was in front of him and then pulling him so that Ianto’s back was flush to his chest. He bent slightly and whispered, “but next time, I’m going to have a lot longer to get you ready, and I’m going to make the most of it,” Ianto shivered and Lucca gave a low chuckle, wrapping his arms around Ianto’s waist. “I should so spank you for earlier.”
“You’ll have to wait until my arse heals first.”
“Au contraire, Mr Jones, I think you’ll find that your arse is the one area of your body that is completely unblemished.”
And with that he pushed Ianto out of the door. They clattered down the stairs and were pulling on their boots when they became aware of Cat standing in the doorway. Lucca glanced over at her. “Going out?”
“Uh huh.” Cat nodded, “Going to visit an old friend.”
“Really?” Lucca raised his eyebrows. Cat nodded and leant on the door jam. “Anyone I know?” Cat shot him a look and his eyebrows raised higher. “Oooh.”
“Huh?” Ianto looked up from where he was tying his laces. “Cat going out?”
“Yup, and so are we. Somewhere in this city there is music, dancing, pretty people, hot, sweaty grinding and we need to be part of that.” Lucca hustled Ianto out of the door, winking at Cat as he did so.
Cat watched them go, a fond smile on her face as their good natured bickering carried through from the porch, Lucca informing Ianto that he wasn’t going out without at least one weapon, and Ianto informing him that firstly he had Lucca to protect him, and secondly it would totally ruin the line of the trousers. After much too-ing and fro-ing, she heard the door slam, silence descended on the house and she was alone.
She drifted back to the image of a teenage Ianto, eyes like saucers as he saw the weapons room for the first time.
“I want that one.”
“You are not having that one.”
“But you said I could have any that I wanted.”
“And you can, just not that one. Or that one.”
Lucca’s panicked shout carried through the house causing Cat to wander into the room. She ducked quickly as a pulse blast flew just over her head.
“Cool! Can I have this one then?”
“NO!” Both Cat and Lucca were quite emphatic about that. Ianto pouted slightly.
“Ianto, sweetie.” Cat crossed the room and carefully removed the pulse pistol from Ianto’s hamd, powered it down and returned it to the wall holster. “Have you ever fired any form of weapon?” Ianto shook his head. “Right, until we’ve taught you, you don’t touch anything in this room. Lucca is more than capable of protecting you in the meantime. Understand?”
Ianto huffed and nodded, looking despondant. Lucca wound an arm around him and pulled him close.
“Don’t sulk kiddo, I’ll teach you how to use every single one of these. You’ll be completely proficient by the time I’m through.” He looked down at Ianto and his eyes twinkled. “I’ve been told I’m a very good teacher,” he grinned.
Cat rolled her eyes and ushered them out of the weapons room. “Come on you two, plenty of time for that later. Out. Go on, shoo!”
Cat smiled as she thought back to it. They had taken it in turns to train Ianto exactly the same way that they had been, to strict Time Agency standards. It hadn’t been easy, but Ianto had been a fast study and he showed a real flair for some of the more elegant weapons in their collection. She was very proud of him and she knew Lucca felt the same. She wondered whether Jack had noticed the similarities between them and Ianto, but knowing the boy he hadn’t even noticed. Honestly, he should have been blond.
As if on cue her phone rang. Pulling it out of her pocket she answered.
“Yes? ... About time you called. … Yes, yes. Calm down. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. … And stop being so sodding maudlin.”
She snapped the phone closed and slid it into the pocket of what appeared to be a skin tight leather cat suit. In actuality it was a Time Agency issued protection suit. Two layers of double stitched leather with a thin layer of flexible metal between them. It was the metal that made the suit so unusual. It had been made in a way similar to a samurai sword with wafer thin layers folded over each other to add strength. However unlike a sword, it retained a huge amount of flexibility, enabling the wearer to move, twist and bend whilst being effectively bullet proof.
The suits were standard Time Agency issue; five a year for as long as you were with the Agency. Wear and tear on them was terrible and most rookie agents would have compromised their first four before six months were up. Older agents were more savvy, eking out the life of each suit and building up a private supply. Each suit was made for the wearer so swapping was not an option. Lucca and Cat had built up a cache of thirty before they were ‘relocated’, with an extra 20 from the Agency as a gesture of ‘goodwill’. They had all known that it wouldn’t be enough.
Cat had 25 left. Lucca, because he took more risks and like showing off the way that the suits would spark when you fell off a motorbike, had about 15. Cat worried about this in her quiet moments. Whilst they were a lot more resilient than the average 51st century being, and near immortal when compared to a 21st century human, they did have some weaknesses, and for them, death was final. All the genetic jiggery-pokery in the universe couldn’t stop that. No, that took something far more daring, a rogue time lord generally, with no thought for the repercussions of his actions. Cat’s opinion of the fabled Doctor dropped every time she had to patch Jack up, put him back together and send him out to do it all over again. She remembered the carefree boy at the Agency vividly, and occasionally saw flashes of him in the man that lived under the Bay. They were all too infrequent though. She sometimes wondered if the Doctor was aware of what he had done. Whether he was or not, she doubted he cared.
Her musings had taken her to the garage where a collection of vehicles awaited her. Everything in there was built for speed, with custom paint jobs and a little future tech in the engine, nothing major, just improving fuel consumption and increasing the speed. The need for speed was something that was in her and Lucca’s bones. Back home they had zoomed around on little zippy jet scooters which they had tricked out until the needle was always in the red. One mistake would cause a huge accident, but that was the thrill of it.She ran her fingers over the glossy paintwork of the Ducati and swung into the seat. She and Lucca had had bikes ever since Cardiff had introduced the traffic lights and the one way system. It really was the only way to get around, certainly better than a certain disco SUV. Plus bikes were fast and fun. This world was way too slow for them sometimes and bikes made up for that. She backed it out of the garage, started the engine and grinned as the familiar frisson of excitement ran up and down her spine. Flipping down her visor, she headed off into the night.