Chapter Fourteen

Later, while sitting in their make-shift honeymoon suite on the beach as he watched Jack dose, Ianto would recall the evening reception in his journal:

The joint wasn't bitter, like the cigarettes I snuck behind the school as a teen. It was a smooth, easy taste that seemed to fall deep into my lungs and made me feel expansive, like I wanted and could do anything. It was as if every cell in my body had just been set free from a life time of bondage. I was exploding with warm feelings, joy, and a heightened desire to screw and get screwed – a nice feeling of freedom for an OCD demonstration project like me and one my therapist would have smiled at.

Then – in full view of the whole reception - Jack was removing my clothes . . . not all of them but let's say I was quite proud of the outline of my junk . . . and the hint of Jack's cock peeking out from underneath his loin cloth, a small drop of pre-cum falling effortlessly from the head. I briefly wondered if anyone saw it and if someone would be so kind as to clean it from the floor (so no one would slip and fall). Then he was nibbling at my neck, slowly and deliberately teasing as he avoided my earlobe, a particularly sensitive spot. Never mind, as his lips had me on fire thinking he was going to seduce me right here in the middle of the reception hall, in front of all those people (and in my increasing intoxicated haze, I'm sure if I could have stopped him). Now I know he was making a statement, telling them this was real – he was off the market, so to speak. I remember thinking that that was nice of him but concerned that he'd hurt some people's feelings – I could imagine how they would feel, being without even the possibility of him, knowing that hope was like that lonely drop of cum on the dance floor - devastated. Floating, reinforcing my sanguine thoughts floating somewhere in the background was the wedding band playing Graffiti's " Free":

But I can't live, oh without you, love you, and it's hard to breath

when you're not near

But I can't lie here beside you, besides you,

cuz' you steal my soul when you leave

Set me free baby, set me free baby.

"Ianto!" my sister's voice called from someone. "Ianto, come and sit down. It's time to eat."

I barely remember eating but I suppose I did. We were at the only rectangular table – my sister and her husband at my left with Martha and Aliyah next to Jack. I don't know where John Hart was but I could have sworn I felt his eyes nearby. Plates full of a variety of middle eastern dishes , empty bottles of Champaign, and more esheb were scattered around the table. There were various toasts and accompanying speeches, of which Rhys' was the best, although I am hard pressed to remember it. Knowing my brother-in-law, I'm sure his is on someone's phone heading toward YouTube. What I do remember is smiling and thinking everyone was nice and beautiful.

"Ianto, hello?" Gosh my name sounded nice coming from Jack.

"Huh?"

"It's time for the couple's first dance."

"Oh! Brilliant," I said but then I realized that my legs needed consultation for this to all work right.

The band leader introduced us, "Ladies, Gentlemen, and all points in-between, I am pleased to present our happy couple, Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness."

I managed not only to stand but I even gave a slight bow. Jack rolled his eyes and maneuvered me to the center of what seemed like a giant golden dance floor. The band was silhouetted, barely visible in the far corner but when the tall, fair-skinned solo singer stepped into a spotlight sing Etta James' "A Sunday Kinda Love", the room hushed, all eyes on us. At first, we just stood there looking at one another. I was full of so much love for this man. We were going to rescue mankind, keep the Earth safe forever in the mist of great sex – talk about a life with purpose.

I remember wondering if I should relinquish my 401K to my niece and nephew when Jack must of caught me thinking. "We're having our wedding dance and your calculating." He cupped my face, like he does when he's about to kiss me, "Hush, close your eyes - listen to the music." His mouth made me loose count.

And my arms need someone
Someone to enfold
To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold
Love for all my life to have and to hold
Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

His kiss created a standing ovation from the crowd and tingles all over my body. I opened my eyes long enough to realize that everyone was in equal state of undress – breasts barely covered (I could have done without seeing my sister's) and loin cloths doing more defining than concealing. Was this a wedding reception or the introduction to an orgy?

When our dance was over, it was time for the guests to join us on the floor. The soloist returned to the background with the rest of the band and the pace picked up with Korn's cover of "Word Up":

Now all you sucker DJs who think you're fly

There's got to be a reason and we know the reason why

You try to put on those airs and act real cool

But you got to realize that you're acting like a fool

if it's a music, we can use it

Be free to dance

We don't have the time for psychological romance

No romance, no romance, no romance for me mamma

Come on baby tell me what's the word

A Word up (up up) everybody say

When you hear the call you've got to get it under way

A Word up (up up) it's the code word

No matter where you say it you know that you'll be heard

I relinquished Jack to Martha then took up with Aliyah.

"Happy?" she asked.

"Intoxicated."

"I've heard he has that effect on others."

She swayed her hips with previously unforeseen abandon, wearing a sheer, purple mid-rift top and white, loose gypsy pants. Her braids hung loose down her back, brushing against her hips as she moved. I tried not to look too close to the woman who just an hour ago stood as clergy but she had magnificently full, firm breasts . . . "Pardon, do you know where the washroom is?"

She giggled at my obvious embarrassment (was she intoxicated too?) and pointed to the other side of the room, her red nail polish shimmering in contrast to her silver bangles and hoop earrings. "I didn't mean to tease you," she whispered toward me with much sincerity, "but the intensity of things will only increase from here out."

I nodded and escaped toward the men's room. I opened the door and found one woman, naked, spread eagle across a urinal while another kneeling, wearing only pants, bobbing her head between the other's legs. "I'm sorry." What else does one say in such circumstances? However, they seemed not to notice. As I decided to instead enter a stall, out of another came an older looking man, "Ladies! Starting without m? Tsk, tsk, tsk!"

The one eating raised her head, the other's juices forming a thick halo around her face. "I'm just warming her up." The other woman opened her eyes and moaned pleadingly, then tempted to pull the other back to clit. "We are ready, eh?" she managed to say.

I entered a stall as I saw the man lift the lady from the urinal over his shoulder (maybe not so old after all?) and take her out the door, their friend giggling and jiggling from behind. I smiled to myself, then finished my business and exited the stall.

I came out to see Sarah, still in her fatigues, standing against the sink. "Don't like weddings?"

"We still have an enemy about," she answered looking around as if someone was to pop out of drains. Reaching in her pocket, she retrieved then handed me the rest of the esheb and a lighter, "It is time for you to rejoin the party." A little too eagerly, I took the joint and used it. This time I took time to hold the smoke and enjoy the feeling of the intoxicant filling all the nerves in my body. I was tingling, excited, and the world was feeling wonderful despite a distant memory of a pending invasion. "The avergeyh begins."

"What?"

Sarah walked to the door and held it open for me, "The orgy." I reached the exit-way and saw a scene of bodies engaged in a human feast that would have impressed ancient Roman royalty, "Find your Jack and enjoy."

She didn't have to ask me twice.