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.
The next morning Jack was sitting in a sun-drenched breakfast room, eating some bacon, drinking coffee, and reading the local newspaper when John stumbled through the door. Almost immediately, a petite older woman appeared from the kitchen and handed him a nice hot cup of steaming hot coffee. One sip later, and John had fallen madly in love with the cook who had created heaven in a cup.
“You know they’ll make you anything you want here. Waffles, bacon, whatever.” Jack told his friend.
“Oh, that’s swell, Jack,” John muttered under his breath as he fell heavily into the nearest chair.
“What’s your problem?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend.
John was livid. “What’s my problem? Oh, I didn’t sleep too well.”
Jack tilted his head. “Why not? My bed was great.”
“Well, besides the bone-crushing pain and the midnight bondage, there was the nude art show at four a.m.” Barely controlled rage laced John’s every word.
It quickly came clear to John that Jack, the root of all of last night’s problems, wasn’t paying any attention to him when the only response he got to his announcement was, “Have some toast.”
“I’m too traumatized for toast!” John cried in despair before snagging a piece of buttered toast off of Jack’s plate. “Look, I’m going to say this as nicely as possible: if we don’t get the fuck out of here, right now, I’m going to kill you.” He savagely bit off a hunk of toast.
Despite knowing how serious his friend was Jack just shook his head. “Can’t do it.”
Toast crumbs spewed across the table as John sputtered, “Why not?” John couldn’t believe that even after all the pain and suffering he had been through, Jack still wasn’t giving up.
“I need another day,” Jack calmly informed his friend.
“For what?! He’s got a bloody boyfriend, Jack, and his own mental hospital here to entertain him!” John could no longer be bothered to keep his voice low.
“Sssh! Keep it down!” Jack hissed at his friend. “I think Ianto is into me. Plus, the boyfriend is a complete tool.”
“Okay. We both think the boyfriend’s a tool. Maybe the whole world thinks the boyfriend is a tool. But if he doesn’t think the boyfriend’s a tool, then the game’s over.” John felt compelled to point out the obvious.
“The game is never over,” Jack denied.
John shook his head sadly. “Jack, the rules are really very clear about partners and…” Whatever John was going to say was cut off by Jack slamming his coffee cup onto the table.
“Will you stop it with the rules, already?! Fuck the rules!” Jack declared vehemently.
John reared back in shock and hurt. “Fuck the rules? How can you say that?! You’re a very insensitive man.”
Jack knew he had just hurt John but this was important to him. “This isn’t about the rules, okay?! This is about love!” He shocked both of them into silence with his words.
Recovering his wits first John squeaked, “Love?!” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, in all the years he’d known Jack, he’d never heard those words come out of his mouth. After taking a deep breath he continued, “Well… okay. The rules do in fact make provisions for what we delude ourselves into thinking is love.” He tried to humour his friend, who was clearly losing his mind.
“It is love!” Jack countered.
“Oh, come on! How can it be love? You’ve known him for a day and you’ve barely said three words to each other.” John wanted Jack to see just how insane he was sounding.
“I don’t know, John. I can’t explain it.” Jack was exasperated, with John, with the situation, and with himself. “Chemical? Fate? I don’t know. I just don’t know. I just know!” He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that what he was feeling for Ianto was real.
John stared at his friend before shaking his head. “Fine. I understand but I’m outta here. Good luck.” He was through with Jack’s idiocy, through with being used as Grey’s punching bag, and through with the crazy sexual habits of the entire Saxon clan.
As he began to stand Jack grabbed John’s arm and pulled him back into his seat. “No, no, no! You can’t leave!”
John glared at Jack. “Why not?!” He wanted to get away from this mad house and fast, before something worse happened to him.
“Because that’ll create a huge shit storm with Tosh!” Jack pointed out to his friend.
“I don’t give a baker’s fuck! I had my own sweat sock duct-taped into my mouth last night!” At Jack’s comical look of confusion John just shook his head. “Long story.”
“I need you to help me. Remind me what do the rules say about abandonment?” Jack reminded his friend.
Grudgingly John spoke the rule Jack was talking about, “Never leave a fellow crasher stranded. Wedding crashers always take care of their own.”
“That’s right.” Jack said with a big smile; he knew he’d won.
“I hate you.” John pouted at his friend.
“Have some more toast.” Jack offered John his plate.
John’s pout grew. “I wanna waffle.”
“Good! That’s good.” Jack knew if John was asking for a waffle he was staying put. “Can we get this man a waffle?” He called out to the cook, before smiling and slapping John on the shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
While Jack was convincing John to stay around, Grey is in his room contacting his friend Vinnie to run background checks on Jack and John. He didn’t like Ianto’s interest in Jack; it was fine for him to have weekend hook-ups, but Ianto had to remain faithful to him. Nothing else was acceptable.
‘I’ve put too much work into this good-guy act to lose Ianto to this Jack punk.’ Grey thought viciously as he told Vinnie all he knew about Jack and John.
Later that morning John and Jack boarded the Saxon family sailboat, The Myfanwy. Harold, Gwen, Ianto, Tosh are already onboard along with a few other guests. Jack was very pleased to see that Grey was not among them.
“Where’s Grey?” Harold questioned Ianto.
“I don’t know.” Ianto answers indifferently, he is after all, only Grey’s boyfriend not his keeper.
“Poor guy’s probably still not feeling well. That flu usually last a few days.” Jack wanted to get underway before Grey got there.
“Well, then, The Myfanwy hoists her anchor without him.” Harold’s announcement made Jack a very happy man.
Of course, that happiness didn’t last long as Jack spotted Grey running out of the house with a cry of, “Wait! I’m coming!”
“Oh good, here he comes.” Jack plastered a fake cheery smile on his face before whispering angrily to John, “How old was that Visine?” He smiled at Grey when the other man glared at him as he joined them on the boat.
They were out on the ocean, it was a clear day with a stead wind, and Harold - between daiquiris, of course – and his crew kept The Myfanwy on a stead course. Jack was finding it hard not to glare and growl as Grey kept his arms wrapped tightly around Ianto. On the other hand, it amused the crap out of him to see Tosh doing the same to John.
“Are you all right? Maybe you should go in the cabin and lie down.” Ianto suggested when he noticed that Grey still looked a little green around the gills.
Grey shook his head stubbornly; there was no way he was going to leave Ianto alone with Jack. “No, I’ll be fine. So, Jack, where’d you guys say you’re from?” He turned his attention to Jack.
“I didn’t. But we’re from Cardiff.” Jack wondered where Grey was going with this.
“Great town,” Grey commented. “A friend of mine just moved to Cardiff. He loves that place; maybe you know him, Eugene Jones?”
Jack shook his head. “Sorry. Big city with a small town heart is still a big city.”
Ianto took that chance to ask. “Anyone want a beer?”
As Grey shook his head no, Jack smiled at Ianto. “Sure I’ll take one.” Ianto smiled back at Jack before having to almost force himself free of Grey’s grip and heading for the cabin.
Clenching his fists to stop from grapping Ianto, Grey continued to push Jack’s story. “You sure you don’t know Eugene? He’s the big guy with Chase up there. Surely in your line of work, you’ve come across each other.” Grey was really having to fight the urge to vomit over the railing, the longer he was at sea, the sicker he was getting was from the rolling waves.
Grey’s intense discomfort did not go unnoticed by Jack and a devious plan began to form. “Hey, you know, my buddy Rex’s with Chase. I bet he knows your guy. Too bad Rex’s not here. You’d love him. Of course, you’ll never catch Rex on a boat ever again. We went out on a boat this one time and you should have seen how sea-sick he got. I mean, green and bilious as the day as long. I’m telling you, he was a mess.” Jack risked a glance at Grey; he was even paler than before and Jack could definitely sees a slight tremor in his hands.
“We’d all eaten a just bunch of lobster rolls and you know Rex likes his just slathered in mayonnaise, I mean just dripping with it. Me, I don’t like it that way; makes the bread all soggy, and leaves your mouth and tongue feeling all slimy, you know? He ate, like, three of these things so fast I don’t think he chewed the first one at all!” At this point Grey was beginning to turn green and Jack couldn’t help but smirk internally.
“And he washed it all down with a couple of beers and then a huge strawberry milkshake for dessert, and then a whole bunch of corn chips. You guys ever smell corn chips that have been left out in the sun? They get this strong, sort of greasy smell, not my cup of tea, but Rex loved ‘em! Just scarfed ‘em down by the handful. Great guy but he eats like a sea otter.” There was a small strangled cry from Grey, and Jack knew the battle was over. Time for the kill shot.
“Anyway, we got underway, and the seas were kinda rough that day cos there was gonna be a storm later, and I’ll bet we’re not out five minutes before this guy blows like Krakatowa! I mean, it’s everywhere! It was like reliving the whole lunch. Man, it went all over Rex; it even came out his nose! Now that was just gross!” Jack laughed, ostensibly at poor Rex, but actually he was just enjoying making Grey miserable.
“He managed to spray the floor and the walls with chunks of half-chewed lobster roll, and there were bits of corn chips on the table, and it just really stank putrid, and everything was coated with pink from the strawbe…” Jack didn’t finish his lurid description before he was rewarded with a very green-looking Grey who clapped his hand tightly over his bout and bolted the railing. He shoved right past Ianto without a single glance.
Ianto reached Jack’s side and Jack smiled at him. “Poor guy. He should’ve stayed home.” Jack told Ianto sympathetically as he accepted the bottle of beer from Ianto.
“Being out in the ocean. It makes you realize how insignificant you really are, huh?” Ianto stated as they looked out across the sparkling water.
“Yeah, I guess we are.” Jack agreed. He was so thrilled to finally be alone with Ianto that he’d agreed to jump overboard if it made Ianto happy.
A mischievous look entered Ianto’s eyes as he smiled at Jack. “No, no. I mean you.”
Jack mock glared at Ianto. “Very funny.”
“Actually, that’s why I hate the ocean.” Ianto told Jack.
“Me too! I hate anything that comes on like it’s bigger than me.” Jack admitted to the handsome Welshman.
Ianto nodded his head. “Exactly. The ocean has an attitude and I don’t like it.” His voice changed to take on a mocking tone. “I’m the ocean. I’m so vast and eternal and you’re so small and not eternal.”
Jack nodded with a serious look on his face. “Which is a very nasty attitude. You know what else has a nasty attitude? The stars.” He added his own thoughts.
“I know. They’re rude! And the mountains.” Ianto laughed.
“Oh, don’t get me started on the mountains.” Jack said with his own laugh. Their eyes met and something deep and real flickered between them.
Jack was not used to feeling so open and honest with anyone, and he quickly continued their game. “You know what I do like? Tide pools. No attitude with tide pools.”
In the years to come, Ianto will swears he had no idea where what he said next came from; he’ll vow that the words just sprang from his heart and never went near his brain. “There are some amazing tide pools on the other side of the island. We could bike over there this afternoon, if you like.”
Suddenly feeling weak in the knees, Jack found the blush that covered Ianto’s cheeks made the Welshman all the more beautiful in his eyes. “I’d like that. It’s a date.” He had never felt so happy before.
Saxon naturally chose that moment to show up with an empty glass in hand. “Jack, my daiquiri’s swimming in the shallow end. Take the helm.”
“Sure. No problem, sir.” Jack lied right through his teeth.
Harold patted him on the shoulder. “Just start tacking back.” He instructed.
Jack has no clue as to what the hell he was supposed to do, and he shot a panicked look at John who just shrugged. The look on John’s face clearly said, ‘Don’t look at me; this is all your fault.’ After taking the time to glare at his unhelpful friend Jack smiled at Harold. “Of course, sir. Tacking back. I was gonna tacking back. Excellent choice, the tacking back.” John wanted to groan at how hopelessly incompetent his friend sounded.
Harold just smiled at Jack’s silliness, let go of the helm and started for the hatch to below-decks. Jack quickly grabbed the wheel, hoping that he at least looked like he knew what he was doing.
Out of the blue, Gwen sauntered up behind Jack and grabbed his mast.
“Tacking!” Jack shouted and turned the wheel a little too vigorously. The boat reacted instantaneously and pitches into her turn, sending the main sail flying around and smacking into John, who went flying into the ocean with a startled yelp.
“John!” Tosh cried out, as she jumped over the railing to rescue her love. Although her intentions were good, in her attempts to rescue John she was so overwrought that she kept dunking him back under the water, leaving John desperately for air.
After they fish John and Tosh out of the ocean, Harold, with a full cocktail glass in hand, reclaims the helm, they managed to return to the island without further mishap. Jack watched as Tosh escorted John off the boat he pulled Ianto to the side. “What do you say we hit those tide pools?”
Ianto smiled happily at Jack. “Sounds great. The bikes are in the shed by the garden.” Unfortunately their plans were once again derailed, this time by Owen, who approached the groups with several shotguns broken over his arm, which he handed out to various guests, including John and Jack.
“Everything’s ready for the quail hunt, sir. There’s a jeep waiting to take you the marsh.” Owen informed Harold.
“Wonderful, Owen.” Harold beamed at the other man.
Jack wanted curse at the top of his lungs; he could not believe his luck. “Uh, maybe I’ll sit this one out.”
“Yeah, I think we’ll sit this one out.” John finally spoke up. He was soaked to the skin, his teeth were chattering, and he was pretty sure that the frigid water of the ocean had made his balls withdraw so far up his body that he’d never see them again. The only thing he wanted to do was take a long, hot shower and crawl into bed.
“Nonsense! I insist. It’s a Saxon family tradition.” Harold wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck, Jack. We’ll check out the tide pools later.” Ianto sounded truly disappointed, which did not go unnoticed by Grey, who scowled viciously.
Harold turned his attention to Grey. “If you’re too sick…” He never got to finish as Grey grabbed a shotgun from Owen.
“Oh, no. Ha ha. I’m going. Oh, trust me, I’m going.” Grey sounded determined and a little crazy.
John was actually a little surprised to hear that Grey hunted. “You hunt? Really?”
“I hunt quail. They’ve overpopulated the island. They’re decimating the grub worm population. Got a problem with that?” Grey demanded, looking very scary as he waved his shotgun in the air. John could only thank god that it was clearly unloaded.
John raised his hands and took a step back from the man. “Hey, it’s all good.”
Despite the fact that they would rather have been anywhere else, Jack and John found themselves on the quail hunt with the rest of the men who had come to the island. On the walk from the jeep to the designated hunting ground, John stopped and pulled Jack to the side. “Have you ever shot one of these things before?” he whispered to his friend after making sure no one could overhear them.
“Oh you bet. The whole fifteen years we’ve known each other? Well, I’ve been sneaking out to shoot at small birds. Of course I’ve never shot one of these damn things!” Jack snapped at his friend.
“What are we gonna do? I don’t want to kill a quail. It’s bad karma.” John actually looked quite upset at the idea of killing an innocent creature.
Jack just stared at his friend. “You lie to young men and women to get them in your bed but you won’t shoot a little bird?” He just wanted to make sure he got it right.
“Right.” John confirmed.
“Yeah, me too,” Jack admitted. “But look, just aim to miss.” Jack suggested to his friend. “That’s what I’m gonna do.”
Suddenly Harold stopped and pointed. “There. Off to the left.” At this everyone took aim and fired. John and Jack fumbled to get their guns in a shooting position when the guns suddenly discharge before they’re quite ready; they’re sent flying five feet backwards to land on their asses.
Rubbing his shoulder, John commented, “I thought the rifle just fired buckshot.”
“Yeah. Well, this is a shotgun, it uses fucking lead pellets. It’s not a sling-shot.” Jack snapped at his friend. He’d landed on a sharp stone and there was an intense pain in his left buttock.
It was Grey’s turn to suddenly stop and point. “There, over by the spruce trees.” As everyone turned to where Grey pointed, Grey deliberately trained his gun on Jack. Not knowing the danger his friend is in John took aim at the tree tops and fired. Once again he was sent reeling, only this time he fell into Jack, just as Grey took his shot.
“Son of a bitch!” John screamed in pain as he fell to the hard ground, reaching for his aching behind. When he pulled his hand away and saw the blood, he screamed again. “My ass! I’ve been fucking shot in the ass!”
Jack wasted no time in getting his wounded friend back to the Saxon home where Owen, with Tosh’s weepy, drama-filled ‘assistance’ was able to remove the shot pellets with ease. When John tired to thank him, butler passed it off, saying, “Happens once a season around here.”
“You okay, buddy?” Jack asked as he and Ianto poked their heads into John’s bedroom.
Lying on his bed with his pillow under his hips and his naked and bloody buttocks in the air, John twisted around enough to level a glare at Jack that would have sent a greater man scurrying for the hills. There isn’t a doubt in Jack’s mind that once they got off the island and back home, he was a dead man. “Just fucking great!” John bellowed at him. “I love getting shot in the ass!”
Jack shook his head sympathetically before whispering to Ianto, “He’s never been a silent sufferer,” before turning back to John and informing him, “We’re gonna take the bikes out for a ride. We’ll catch you later.”
“Yeah sure. You kids go and have a good time. I’ll just be here getting the lead out of my heinie!” John snarled, completely losing his cool.
Jack beamed at his friend before exiting with Ianto, leaving a furious John behind with Tosh who took a quick grope and then pouted. “Aww, Mr Pogo isn’t jumping.”
“Well, sorry, but Mr Pogo gets stressed when Mr. John’s bleeding to death, okay?” John snapped at her. ‘Mr Pogo’ – God, he hated that stupid nickname she’d given his manhood after their first encounter down on the beach.