backrose_17 (backrose_17) wrote,

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Fic: Wedding Crashers Chapter 8/13+Epilogue

Title: Wedding Crashers
Author: backrose_17
Word Count: 31,421
Prompt: Wedding Crashers
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, John/Tosh, Harold Saxon/Gwen, Jake/Ace, some Grey/Ianto, Owen/Andy, Doctor/Martha and others
Rating: R
Beta: royalladyemma
Summary: Jack and John made a career out of crashing weddings looking for quick hook-ups, but one wedding changes everything when they meet Ianto and Tosh. Everything they know changes; have they finally found their perfect matches?
Warnings: Language and sexual scenes
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the movie Wedding Crashers.

Chapter 8


Jack and John met near the entrance to the dining room and Jack was nauseated to see Grey holding court. He leaned in and whispered to John, “Do you have the Visine?”


John’s eyes widened at his friend’s request. “No! Not the visine! It’s too early!” John hissed back, not even able to believe his friend was asking such a thing.


Jack was not going to be denied. “I need the Visine, god damn it! Give it to me!”


John shook his head. “You know the rules. Visine is a last resort. Visine’s a fucking felony!” John needed his friend to see sense.


“I can’t get any alone time with Ianto. That guy won’t leave Ianto’s side. I need the Visine, I really do. Please?” Jack pleaded his case.


John still wasn’t convinced. “The Visine’s fucking hard-core. A few drops in his drink and he’ll spend the next twenty-hours going down on the toilet seat, puking his guts out.”


Just as John was sure he’d managed to change Jack’s mind, the sound of Grey’s pompous voice reached their ears. He was bragging to a rapt group of guests about saving a baby otter from an oil spill. That was all it took for John to change his mind; he couldn’t think of a better candidate to drive the porcelain bus. “Okay, here’s the Visine.” John reached into his pocket and handed Jack a small bottle. Jack takes it and slipped it pocket as they entered the dining room.


“Here they are!” Harold greeted them warmly and motioned to the table. “Sit anywhere you like, we’re not formal here on the Vineyard.” To John’s utter dismay the only seats open was next to Tosh, as Jack had immediately taken the seat next to Ianto. Having no other choice, John slipped into the seat beside her and glared at Jack, who was now on his other side. Jack was oblivious to his friend’s discomfort; all he could think about how close he was now to Ianto.


Father Rhys, who was one of the guests, stood and began to lead them all in prayer. As everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes, Jack quickly put a tiny squirt of Visine into Grey’s wine. Once the prayer was over, Owen walked over with a platter and set it on the table in front of his boss.


“Oh, these scallops look fantastic!” Harold was practically drooling over them.


Grey proudly informed them, “I brought them from an organic scallop farm.”


John looked pointedly at Grey. “I bet they’re tasty. Maybe I’ll try them when my jaw heals.” Outwardly, he was calm, but on the inside, he was seething with anger at the egotistical bastard.


“Again, I’m sorry, John. It’s that damn competitive streak,” Grey admitted. “I’m seeing a Buddhist about it.” He made it sound as though that were the answer to all the world’s problems.


“And not just any Buddhist, either. He’s being advised by His Holiness the Dalai Lama. He’s a close family friend.” Harold’s bragging was almost as bad as Grey’s.


“Really? I’m seeing an orthopaedist when I get back to town. Not just any orthopaedist, either. Dr. Epstein…” John’s snarky comment was cut off sharply when Jack kicked him under the table.


“Enough, okay?” Jack whispered to John before addressing Grey. “Never mind him, he’s just fooling around. So how long have you and Ianto been together, Grey?”


“Um…I don’t know.” Shrugging dismissively Grey asked turning to his boyfriend. “What’s it been, Ianto? A couple of years?” he asked, his tone bored.


Ianto wasn’t at all surprised that Grey didn’t remember how long they had been dating. “Three and a half years, actually. We started dating while we were doing that Habitat for Humanity project.” Ianto spoke to both Jack and John, but his eyes remained on Jack.


“Anyway, Jack, tell me again how you’re connected to the family?” Grey asked, sensing that there was something off.


“Uncle James’ kids,” Jack answered quickly.


John spoke up also. “You know Uncle James? The brother of Aunt Diane?” Both he and Jack made the sign of the cross. Grey eyed the two men suspiciously; he was not at all convinced by their story.


While all this is going on Tosh reached her hand under the table and grabbed John’s crotch. John choked on his drink as his eyes flew wide open; he tried to push her away but Tosh was not going to be denied, and unseen by anyone, she began to give John a hand job.


Harold sipped his drink, another daiquiri, and informed the table. “Jack and his brother here are venture capitalists.”


“That’s right!” John’s voice came out at a higher pitch than normal. Jack looked at him strangely, wondering what was wrong, and then by chance he glanced down. Hoping against all hope that no one else would see what he could see, Jack stared in shock at what the seemingly innocent Tosh was doing at the dinner table.


“I think it’s great. Venture capitalists. The backbone of the system. The new pioneer.” Harold boasted. “Not for the weak of heart, takes a real man.”


“So is it just about the money?” Ianto does not look impressed and Grey quickly feigns disgust.


“Oh… no, no! Not at all. It’s about, you know, investing in projects that are both ethically and morally defensible.” There was no way Jack was going to let Ianto think all he cared about was money.


“Like what, for example?” Grey asks.


Jack said a silent prayer as he began making stuff up off the top of his head. “Like what? Oh, you know, we’ve got company that, uh, takes the wool from sheep and uh, turns it into thread for the homeless people to sew… into cloth and then make, you know, shirts and pants to sell at a profit. Everybody wins.”


Ianto smiles at Jack, impressed. “Cool.” He was delighted to hear that Jack wasn’t a money-hungry bastard.


“Mmm. Homeless sewing. What’s it called?” Grey was not blind to the looks passing between his boyfriend and Jack, and he’d be dammed if he’d let the last three years be wasted. Being a part of the Harold Saxon world had opened doors for him that he’d never dreamed of, and he wasn’t done taking advantage of those connections.


John, who was nearing his climax, hadn’t paid the least bit attention to what was going on around him, and he’d even had kind of forgotten where he was. Just as Grey asked his question, John’s orgasm hit and he let out a high pitched, “Holy sh…”


Realising what just happen, Jack quickly cuts him off. “Holy Shirts and Pants.” The group nods approvingly. Gwen licked her lips as she began undressing Jack with her eyes. Jack was horrified and wished there was a place he could hide.


Grey suddenly reached down and clutched at his stomach. “I don’t feel so good,” he mumbled.


No one seemed to hear him as Harold was more focused on Jack, and what Harold paid attention to, so did the rest of the group. “That’s a hell of a good project. Let me mention something to some of my friends,” he offers. “See what we can do to help.”


“Great, great.” Jack had no idea what he was going to do when Harold Saxon learned he’d been lied to.


“Isn’t my Harold doing a wonderful job?” Sylvia spoke for the first time since they’d sat down.


“Oh yes, Ma’am.” Jack agreed smiling at the woman. “Wonderful.”


“Oh mummy…” Harold shook his head fondly.


“He still calls his mother ‘Mummy,’ at his age! Isn’t that cute?” Gwen stated sarcastically as she took along drink of her wine; she finished it and before the glass could hit the table, Owen was at her side with a refill. She immediately slammed that down as well and motioned for another.


Sylvia completely ignored Gwen as she reached out and pinched her son’s cheeks. “The Prime Minister is so proud of my Harold. You know my Harold’s predecessor was a Jew.”


John spit out the gulp of water he had just taken when he heard that.


“Mummy, let’s not go there. Saul Rothstein was a good man.” Harold spoke in a fondly admonishing tone; wouldn’t do for anyone to know he agreed with her.


“Maybe so. For a Jew,” Sylvia grumbled.


Ianto was horrified. “Grandma, you can’t talk that way. You can’t feel that way. It’s not right!”


Harold addressed the table. “Mummy’s a little old-fashioned.”


“Yeah. Like Hitler was crazy.” Jack whispered to John.


Sylvia didn’t seem to care. “What did you say his name was again, Harold? Hymie Bergstein? I always forget his name. But my God, did he have a nose on him.”


“Grandma!” Ianto could not believe what his grandma is saying.


“Ma’am, I have to tell you I happen to have a lot of very good friends who are Jewish. As does my brother.” Jack spoke up not able to stand to listen to this woman for a second longer.


“Really?” Sylvia had a how-dare-you kind of tone.


“Yes. Really.” Jack replied seriously.


Ianto smiled at Jack. “Thank you. Finally someone speaks up.” He was tired of being the only one to go up against his grandmother and disagree with her narrow-minded beliefs.


“Of course. We all have Jewish friends! Nothing wrong with that, Mummy.” Harold sided with his son and Jack. The last thing his political career needed was a hint of anti-Semitism.


Sylvia was really quite put out by her son’s statement. “Well I guess you have to now, especially if you’re doing anything in finance. They own all of that. Can somebody bring me another sherry?” She demanded with an imperious wave of her hand.


Owen, used to Sylvia’s behaviour, is ready for the call and pours her another drink. She downs it while holding onto his sleeve, leaving him no choice but to pour her another.


Grey was clutching his stomach as he turned green. “I’ve gotta go.” He stood up on wobbly legs.


Ianto’s eyes were full of concern as he asked, “What’s wrong?”


“Gotta… go...” Grey bolted from the table and only Ianto’s quick hand prevented his chair from crashing to the floor.


“Oh dear. Hope he’s okay.” Harold murmured.


“Well, there is a lot of flu going around.” Jack fought back a smile as he passed a platter to Andy.


“Oh, I don’t eat meat or fish.” Andy explained as he in turn passed the food down.


Without missing a beat Sylvia informed everyone, “He’s a homo, just like his brother.”


“Grandma!” Ianto was fine with her picking on him about his life choices, she’d been doing it since he was fifteen, but Andy couldn’t take her cruel words. Despite being several years older than Ianto, he’d only just come out to his family a short time ago.


“What?” Sylvia shrugged and emptied her sherry glass again. “You can’t help it. They say it’s genetic.” She tilted her head indicating Gwen, “From her side of the family.”


Andy’s head sank and John reached around Tosh to give him a sympathetic pat on the back. Andy looked up at John lovingly, clearly smitten. and neither of them notice the glare Owen is sending John.


“Andy’s an amazing painter. He’s going to the top art school.” Ianto bragged, changing the subject.


“Wow. That’s very impressive.” Jack was being honest. “I’d love to see some of your work some time.”


“Dad used to think Ianto and I were a political liability, you know, in case he ever ran for Prime Minister.” Andy told them, bitterness lacing his voice.


“Well, actually, truth be told, polling shows a majority of the British people would ultimately empathize with our situation,” Harold admitted.


“What is our situation, Dad?” Andy asked bitterly.


“You and your brother are homos.” Sylvia spoke up. “Didn’t I just say that?” She blinked at her empty sherry glass and then looked around for Owen.


“Oh, for Chris sakes, Harold! Put your mummy to bed already!” Gwen shouted at her husband and then drained her wine glass in a single drop.


“Okay. Come on, Mummy, we’ve had a long day.” Harold motioned for Owen to come and help Sylvia up.


The old woman waited until Owen had helped her to her feet, and then she pulled away from Owen. “I can do it myself, asshole,” and with those words, a clearly drunk Sylvia shuffles off. They could still hear her mumbling to herself, although her words were no longer completely clear.


Andy, who is thoroughly pissed off, got to his feet. “I’ll be in my room. Painting… homo things.”


“You go right ahead, Andy.” Gwen smiled indulgently at her son.


Using the commotion caused by Sylvia and Andy’s departure to his advantage, Jack took the opportunity to talk to Ianto. “So maybe after dinner we could take a walk?” he asked hopefully.


“How about now? I can’t take this anymore. They’re driving me crazy!” Ianto jumped at the chance to get away from the mad house.


“Great! Let me just change my shoes.” Jack smiled brightly at Ianto.


“I’ll be outside waiting. Hurry up.” Ianto smiled back at Jack before he made his exit. Jack took the time to wink at John before excusing himself from the table and hurrying out of the dining room.

Tags: au, fic: wedding crashers, pairing: jack/ianto, pairing: john/tosh, reel_torchwood
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