Hundred Theme Challenge, using Doctor Who and Torchwood. Suppose that makes this a cross over of the two genres, but as far as I'm concerned they're in the same Canon. Neither belong to me. Please review! Of course this is going to be Mature, and mostly male on male! Please read and review!
((Took me FOREVER. Wanted to do an Owen gets tied up through funny circumstances then kinky things happen with Ianto and Jack. It just refused to work in character. Sorry it took so long, this is what I had to do instead.))
bond·age /ˈbɒndɪdʒ/ Show Spelled[bon-dij]
–noun
1.
slavery or involuntary servitude; serfdom.
2.
the state of being bound by or subjected to some external power or control.
3.
the state or practice of being physically restrained, as by being tied up, chained, or put in handcuffs, for sexual gratification.
4.
Early English Law. personal subjection to the control of a superior; villeinage.
I, Ianto Jones, often feel that I'm was under a very vague bondage spell. That a single glance from Jack could pin my feet to the spot. That I have manacles of unfair commitment clamped around my wrists. There's no ring on my finger (thank God) but there is still this weight on my heart, like a pendulum, ticking away the moments of entrapment. that's exactly how I feel. Trapped. Trapped in this relationship, this dead end job, this-
"Hey, Coffee Bitch, I need a refill." My internal monologue is cut off by that rat-bastard Owen. A constant reminder to my decline in dignity and fall in social grace. 'Coffee bitch'... such humiliation. Like clockwork, no, more like on auto-pilot, I silently pour another cup for the weasel. I'm startled from the automated process by a firm smack on the ass, causing coffee and cup to fall together.
"Jack!" Coffee burns my leg before I hear the shatter of the cup on the floor of the hub. F = m2 d2r2/dt2 Objects fall at the same rate despite mass. I'm too over-educated for this job.
"Sorry sweetcheeks." A peck to cheek, a fetching of a cool towel. "Didn't mean to stain the suit." Yes, because the suit's got second degree burns now...
"I'm fine."
"Clumsy little file-clerk." Owen's laughing at me. Gwen's whispering with Tosh. I'm blushing up to my ears. Everyone is laughing at me. My leg hurts along the break, oh Jesus why am I thinking about that? My father didn't mean to, not really. No one ever thinks that maybe I'm fragile. I'm a support man. A tea-boy. A 'coffee bitch'. Oh God Ianto, don't cry here, don't make more of a fool of yourself. Damn my leg hurts.
"Shut up Owen." Jack gives the weasel a look. "Go back to work. The rift won't monitor itself."
"I need some damned coffee, Jack! That's his job, ain't it?"
"Coffee. Right. I'll get some coffee." And off I limp, biting my lip hard, broken and humiliated. There's silence behind me. They were staring. I'm sure they were all staring. They always stare. That's what comes from fucking the boss.
"Ian... you okay?"
Autopilot again. Just make coffee. A curt nod. "Yessir."
"No, really..." His arms snake around me and I can't breathe. I'm trapped, held to the spot, tied down without any rope. I melt against him, leaning to relieve the bad leg.
"It hurts. But I'll live. Coffee?" God I hate that word. Sure, I'm good at making it, coffee is something I'm good at, but I'm so damn sick of it. I know I volunteered to start at the bottom rungs of this new Torchwood, but that was so long ago. I had thought I'd be more than a gofer at this point.
"No thanks." He nuzzles me, making me blush. Was I always this subdued, this submissive? I remember back when I wore leather and beat things up with bats. Or was it a stick? That time feels so long ago. I nearly kissed him then. It wouldn't be the same way I kiss him now. Softly, demurely. I was going to mash my lips against his and bite his jaw with my front teeth and inhale his pheromones. But I didn't. And I won't now. It's not my place, now. Same as it's really not the place for Jack to be sticking his hands down my pants.
"Jack, please... " I glance at the entrance to the kitchen. This is possibly -the- least secure place in the hub. Anyone could walk in at any moment.
"Please what?" He nips my ear and the pendulum swings in my heart, making my gut wrench. "How about we give Owen some extra cream in his coffee?" He purrs seductively, and I'm glued to the spot. I sigh.
"Sure. Of course."
It's not like bondage is always a bad thing, right?
