Disclaimer: Torchwood is not mine. It belongs to Mr. Russel T. Davies and the BBC, though they don't know what to do with it. I'm a penniless music student and I'm just playing with the pretty toys. I'll put them back when I'm done, no harm done or intended.
Warning: This is a Janto slash fic. Meaning, men having sex. You don't like it? Poor you, you don't know what you're missing. Don't read this then! Just to warn you, there's also a bit of bondage (ish) coming up. Just some light stuff - as the title implies it does involve handcuffs.
Author's Note: Like the summary said, this is the story of the fuzzy handcuffs Jack knit as mentioned in my other story "What Are You Making Now." This is just the first chapter and a bit of set-up for the next chapter. Which will hopefully have all the good stuff in it. To everyone who voted in my poll or left a review: thank you so much, this is pretty much for you guys! Also, thanks to milday dragon for offering cookies - they really helped! And thanks to badly knitted over on LiveJournal for searching me out. (I still want your name!) And now, on to the main event! Enjoy!
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Handcuffs
When Jack brought out the handcuffs Ianto was fine, maybe even a bit excited. He let Jack wrestle him down to the small bunker and pin him to the mattress with only a few half-hearted struggles. Ianto was anticipating an evening full of all manner of carnal delights and pleasures as the cold metal snapped around his wrists. He shoved aside memories of the cannibals and focused instead on the feel of Jack's body covering his.
Watching Jack unbutton his customary blue shirt and slowly pull it off had Ianto tugging against the unrelenting metal, but he didn't really want to escape. He liked watching Jack. Though Ianto did wish he could touch, maybe help Jack with his boots or braces.
Then Jack was back and tugging on Ianto's tie, making it whisper against crisp cotton as he pulled it away. Ianto nodded when Jack held the tie up, and the cool silk was descending on him and blotting out the faint light that came from the office. The tiny seeds of panic in the back of Ianto's mind began to grow as he felt blunt fingers scrambling with the buttons of his shirt.
Jack must have sensed Ianto's unease because he suddenly abandoned the buttons and began stroking instead, up and down Ianto's arms, over his face and neck. Ianto knew it was Jack; he knew where he was. But the panic began to grow. He remembered the smell of the charnel house. He could see the refrigerator stocked with body parts. And suddenly it wasn't Jack's tender hands running over him; the hands kneading his shoulders belonged to his captor, and he was on the menu.
Ianto bucked, trying to dislodge the hot, heavy weight that pinned him. Jack gave a surprised squawking yelp and fell to the floor with a thump. Ianto didn't hear; he was too busy clawing and tugging at his bonds, desperate to escape. Animalistic grunting and whimpering nearly drowned out Jack's half shouts.
"Ianto! What the hell?"
The weight came back and Ianto tried to buck it off again, but it wouldn't budge. Someone was grasping his wrists, fumbling with the cuffs. In some dim corner of his mind Ianto realized he was panicking and that Jack was probably trying to release him, but he couldn't stop himself from thrashing and struggling.
What could have been eons later one of the cuffs came off, but Ianto wasn't completely free. A hand replaced the metal and held him down. Ianto's panic subsided marginally and the other cuff was soon free. Ianto reached a shaking hand up to his blindfold and the weight moved off him as he removed the tie.
At first he couldn't see anything, blinded by light and panic. Then his vision cleared and Ianto could see Jack sitting on the end of the bunk, staring at him. Almost immediately, Ianto blushed, heat creeping over his cheeks, ears and chest. He knew he had nothing to be ashamed of, but still...
"You wanna tell me what that was about?" Jack asked, bravely breaking the silence.
Ianto rolled his eyes and snorted. "Can't you guess?"
"Yeah. But I'd rather you told me."
Ianto bit his lip and looked away, suddenly finding the wall very fascinating. He felt Jack shift slightly and he tensed, ready to shake off a comforting hand. But none came; Jack merely made himself comfortable, waiting for Ianto. And Ianto made him wait. Ianto fidgeted. He stared a the floor. He glanced to the ceiling and took a deep breath.
"I was back there. In the village." He said it all in a rush, not looking at Jack. "It's not that I don't trust you. It's just... I couldn't help it. Sorry."
"It's OK. Ianto, it's fine." Jack's voice was calm, soothing, not cold or accusing like Ianto had feared. "I should have guessed. It was probably the blindfold."
"Yeah," Ianto laughed shakily. Awkward silence fell between them for long minutes until Ianto cleared his throat. "So, um... try it again?"
"You sure?"
"Without the blindfold."
"And no cuffs. I can't wait," Jack said, and promptly pounced on Ianto. Handcuffs, blindfolds, and panic attacks were driven almost out of Ianto's mind as Jack went to work on him and he managed to suppress the rest.
Handcuffs and blindfolds, and just about anything "kinky," were never mentioned between them again.
~*~
Uh oh! What about the fuzzy handcuffs you say? How can they be used? Just wait and see...
