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
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.
In his guest room Jack was quickly changing his shoes when he heard the door open and close. Expecting to see John, Jack looked up and was shocked to find a topless Gwen bearing down on him.
“I just got my tits done,” Gwen tells him. “Do you like them?” She shimmied her shoulders, but the fake breast didn’t really move.
Jack truly had no idea what to say. “Uh, yes. Those… are great… umm … tits.”
Gwen pouted at him. “Harold doesn’t appreciate my tits.” She turned this way and that, giving him a full view of her chest.
“Well, darn him, Mrs Saxon, I don’t think...” Jack was interrupted by Gwen.
“Call me Gwen.” The older woman lowered her voice seductively, positive that she had won.
Jack swallowed hard. “Okay, Gwen, I don’t think that this is appropriate.”
Gwen walked towards the still seated Jack and thrust her boobs into his face, ordering, “Feel them.”
Jack was utterly shocked and more than a little turned off. “What?”
“I said feel them.”
Jack shook his head. “Gwen, are you out of your fucking mind?” He snapped at her.
“I’m not letting you leave this room until you feel them.” Gwen informed him.
Jack rolled his eyes, knowing he has no other choice; Ianto is waiting for him so he reaches up and touches them. “They’re very nice. Okay? You happy now?” He struggled to keep the distaste from his voice. He had nothing against a woman’s breast; in fact he thought breasts were beautiful, but having his hostess try to shove them down his throat was crossing a line Jack didn’t even know he had until that moment.
Gwen moaned deeply before grabbing her blouse and buttoning it up. “We will be lovers before this weekend is up.” She vowed before stalking haughtily from Jack’s room.
‘The only person I’ll be lovers with here is Ianto.’ Jack vowed.
He took a few moments to wash Gwen off his hands and get over what had just happened before heading out. Just as he passed Andy’s room, the painter calls out to him. “Mom made you feel her tits, didn’t she?” It was actually more of a statement than a question.
Jack stopped dead in his tracks and backed up. “What?! No!”
Andy shrugs his shoulders. “It’s okay. I can tell; you have that ‘mom made me feel her tits’ look on your face. Don’t worry about it. She usually picks one male guest a weekend to sexually harass,” he told Jack who grimaced. “Don’t say anything to Dad, though. Some friend of my sibling’s said something to Dad a couple of years ago and now he lives in Paraguay. And not by choice.” Andy warned him.
“Good to know.” Jack was thankful for the advice and knew there was no way he was ever going to say anything to Harold Saxon.
Andy’s, “No problem,” was lost on him as he rushed down the hallway and with a barely muffled curse he runs into John.
“What’s wrong?” John asked.
“Nothing! I’m just trying to get to outside to meet Ianto.” Jack was getting frustrated.
“You’ve got a weird look on your face.” John pointed out.
“It’s nothing. Look, I’ve got to get going or I’m going to miss Ianto.” Jack refused to get into it what had just happen with Gwen and brushed past his friend.
John just shook his head and watched him go before turning on his heel and heading for his room. When he switched on the lamp, he was shocked to find Sylvia sleeping in his bed. Moving forward he gentle nudged her; slowly opening her eye, she saw him looking at her and she screamed shrilly, causing John to scream back.
“What do you want?” Sylvia demanded, clutching the duvet under her chin.
“You’re in my room.” John points out to her gently.
“I am?” Confused, Sylvia looks around and notices that she is indeed in the wrong room. “Oh dear, I am. Too much sherry, I think; can you carry me to my room?”
“What?” John blinked at the unexpected request.
“I think I’m too drunk to walk,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish.
“Okay, sure.” John quickly agrees; he just wants his room back so he can go to sleep and get the night over with.
Jack finally managed to get outside, and he smiled the moment Ianto met him at the bottom of the stairs.
“What took you so long?” Ianto asked once Jack reached his side; he’d been worried that Jack had changed his mind about their walk. He wasn’t sure why it was so important to him to spend time alone with Jack; after all, he did have a boyfriend.
“I’m sorry. I got held up.” Jack apologized; he was so grateful that Ianto was still waiting for him.
“Strange family, huh?” Ianto started the conversation.
“Yeah, a little.” Jack couldn’t remember ever meeting a family quite like the Saxons. “So, where should we go?” He hoped Ianto would suggest somewhere secluded; Jack desperately wanted to be alone with the gorgeous Welshman.
Harold chose that moment to poke his head out the front door. “Ianto, Grey is asking for you.”
Ianto looked at Jack, reading something in his eyes, before turning back to his father. “Could you tell him I’m busy?” Ianto knew it was kind of cold but he really wanted to spend some time with Jack.
“He’s in pretty bad shape.” Harold told his son.
“All right, I’m coming.” Ianto muttered grudgingly before turning his attention to Jack. “Sorry, Jack. Maybe we can find time tomorrow.”
Jack forced a smile on his face. “Yeah, sure, tomorrow then.” Ianto smiles weakly before heading back inside. “Hey, Ianto, help him get better soon. I saw some otters earlier and they were frowning.”
That bit of silliness brought a true smile to Ianto’s face. “Be nice.” The smile and amusement in his voice ruined any attempt his words being a warning. Jack watched sadly as Ianto walked away to play the dutiful boyfriend at Grey’s side.
Harold stuck his head back out the door. “Jack, my boy. Brandies? Den?” he offered.
“Yeah, great, I’ll be right in.” Jack waited until Harold was back in the house before letting loose a string of curses for missing out on his time with Ianto. “The universe hates me, I just know it,” he muttered morosely as he headed back inside.
Night fell on the Saxon compound, and no one was having an easy time falling asleep.
John tossed and turned, his sore body refusing to find a comfortable spot in which to rest.
Grey had taken up residency in his bathroom for the night.
Ianto and Jack, in their separate bedroom, were lying in their lonely, empty beds, wide awake and just staring at the ceiling; they were each wondering what the other was thinking or dreaming about.
John, who finally managed to find a position that hurt the least and had fallen asleep, was awakened abruptly by someone climbing onto his bed and then straddling his body. “Hey!” John cried out in surprise, a sound which quickly turned into a loud groan when he saw that it was Tosh who had entered his room. “What are you doing?!” John demanded to know even though it was quite obvious she was tying his right arm to the bedpost.
“Listen, I know what you were saying before and I started thinking that maybe I’m not being exciting and adventurous enough for you.” Tosh explained in all earnestness as she tied his other arm to the bedpost.
‘Tosh…” Whatever John was going to say was cut off by Tosh placing her finger across his lips.
“Sssh. You’ll wake everybody. I’m going to make all your fantasies come true,” she whispered seductively as she pulled her nightgown off and tossed it to the floor behind her.
“But…” he was cut off when Tosh stuffed a sock into his mouth. John continued to protest in a muffled voice, “This is not my fantasy!”
Tosh just smiled sweetly at him as she revealed a roll of duct tape and taped his mouth close. “I love you,” she whispered.
Jack had given up on an attempt to sleep and had decided to take a walk down the hallway. He found himself standing outside of Ianto’s door and he stayed very still for a moment, listening to see if Ianto was awake. He had no idea that Ianto was, indeed, wide awake, but after a few minutes of hearing nothing Jack sighed and turned away.
Half an hour later Ianto was taking his own walk down the hall and he finds himself at Jack’s door and like Jack, he listened for any sign that Jack might be awake. Hearing no sound of movement, Ianto bit his lip and sadly returned to his own room, not knowing that Jack was wake and sitting by the open window, staring up at the night sky.
John was finally sound asleep when hand began to gently stroke his forehead. “Tosh… you have to go back to your room.” He mumbled half-asleep.
“I’m not Tosh.” Andy’s voice came out of the shadows.
John’s eyes shot open in surprise, only to slam shut. “This is not happening,” he mumbled under his breath.
“We had a lovely little moment between us at the dinner table, didn’t we?” Andy wondered out loud.
John’s eyes shot open again. “What are you talking about? There was no moment.” John points out.
“Oh yeah, we had a moment.” Andy would not be swayed. “I looked at you, you looked at me…”
“I was sitting right there. I think I would have noticed a moment.” John was exhausted; between the football fiasco, and Tosh’s over-active libido, all he wanted to do was get some sleep.
“I made you a painting.” Andy changed the subject as he picked up the flashlight he brought with him and pointed it at the painting on John’s dresser. John could only blink as he looked at the surreal red mass blotched onto the canvas. “I call it ‘Tortured Scrotum.’ It’s sexual and violent. Sort of a self-portrait. I thought you’d like it.”
John looked into Andy’s hopeful eyes; he found that he just couldn’t hurt the man’s feelings. “Wow that’s, uh, something. Thank you, so much.”
“Oh, you’re more than welcome.” Andy whispered as he kissed John on the forehead, his lips feather-light.
“Say listen, Andy. I haven’t gotten much gosh-darn sleep tonight and hey, why don’t we talk tomorrow?” John offered; he just wanted to get the man out of his room so he could get some sleep.
“Promise you’ll make time for me?” Andy pouted sweetly at John.
“Cross my heart.” John promised. “How about coffee in the morning?”
“Okay…Good night, fair prince, pleasant dreams.” Andy kissed his fingers and pressed them against John’s lips before taking his leave.
John sighed and plopped his head back onto his pillow. “Lord! How much more of this can I take?” His last thought, as he fell asleep for the third time that night was how he would make Jack suffer for dragging him to this island hellhole.