Title: Butthole Galore
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Word Count: 843
Rating: R
Summary: Jack has to make use of his super-secret weapon. Written for redisourcolor, week 007.
Warnings: gross-out factor, but really minor
A/N: I give all the credit for this idea to my little brother. I finally got him to watch some Doctor Who with Captain Jack (who he decided is indeed super cool), and we had an animated and hysterical discussion upon seeing the episode Bad Wolf, where Jack…well, does exactly what happens in this fic. He also came up with the title. Basically, blame him for this whole thing.

            “Oh, you have got to be joking.” Ianto looked around, just coming to after the alien they had been chasing knocked him out. He found himself naked and tied back-to-back with an equally naked Captain Jack. It was raining, cold, and they were shoved in the back of an alleyway somewhere, sides pressed up against the freezing, wet alley walls. He glanced up at the sky. It was twilight, or thereabouts. Two hours then, at least, since they first encountered the alien.

            Behind him, Ianto felt Jack shift and moan, apparently just coming to himself. “Where…Ianto! Ianto, are you alright?”

            Ianto rubbed his fingertips across Jack’s lower back in reassurance. “Yes, Jack. Fine. Loss of dignity and blue balls, but I suppose that’s normal in this job.” Though usually the blue balls are for a slightly more pleasant reason.

            Ianto felt Jack squirm for a moment. “Weapon’s check. Do you have anything?”

            Rolling his eyes, not caring if Jack couldn’t see him, Ianto responded. “We’re naked, Jack. Where do you figure I have weapons stowed: in my arse?”

            Ianto had meant the comment as joke, but Jack suddenly went completely still behind him.

            Jack’s reaction could only mean one thing. “Oh, oh Jack. Please don’t tell me…”

            “Ianto, I need you to pull a gun out of my ass. Can you reach? Here: stand up.”

             “No, no no no no no!” Ianto shoved his shoulder against the wall. Still, Jack was getting up, and Ianto had little choice but to stand up with him. “There is no way…you can’t possibly…I’ve never seen a gun up your…Jack!”

            During his rant, Jack had taken the opportunity to shift their hands around, pressing Ianto’s fingertips into the crease of his arse. “Ianto, come on. Neither of us have our comms in, and night is falling. Do you really want to be stuck naked in an alleyway freezing our balls off overnight?”

            Ianto whimpered, casting his eyes to the heavens. Nothing, nothing he had ever done in his life, even wanking over Patrick Swayze in the back of the cinema when he was a teen and they re-released Dirty Dancing, should have earned him this sort of punishment. “Come on, Ianto! It’s not like your fingers have never been in there before.”

            “It’s just…” Even as he protested, Ianto inched his fingers forward and pressed them into Jack’s hole, as Jack strained forward as far as he could to give Ianto better access. “So undignified.”

            “Says that man who isn’t carrying a gun up his ass!”

            Sure enough, Ianto’s exploratory fingers brushed against something hard inside Jack’s arse. He scissored two fingers – not exactly the sort of situation he’d normally be happy to scissor his fingers inside of Jack – and managed to grip the gun between the two. Carefully he edged it out, until it slipped from his grasp and Jack’s arse to clatter to the ground.

            “Aha! Beautiful work, Ianto.”

            Both men squatted together as Jack reached for the small gun. Bloody hell. Ianto was scrubbing his hands and Jack’s with scalding water tonight. Jack managed to get the gun between his bound hands and aimed it carefully at the ropes. With one clean shot, the ropes fell free, and Ianto jumped away from Jack, scanning the alleyway for their clothes, or maybe a blanket.

            Jack was busy looking at his gun fondly. “Always a handy little gun, this is. Gotten me out of more than one sticky situation. This one time, on this place called Satellite Five…”

            “Please, Jack.” Ianto knew he looked pathetic: hair soaking and pressed down against his face, shivering and blue all over, penis shriveled up and hiding from the cold. “Let’s just get some clothes and get back to the Hub. I don’t need to hear about the other times you had to use that.”

            Taking sympathy on him, Jack stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Ianto and pressing a kiss to his head. “Hey, hey. We’ll get back. Sorry we had to use the butt-gun.”

            Ianto groaned, pulling away. “James Bond never had to go through this shit.”

            Jack grinned, twirling the gun on one finger. “Yeah, but James Bond never had something as handy as a butt-gun, either.”

            “James Bond never got into a situation where-” Ianto paused, considering. “Actually, your…‘all-natural holster’…might have come in handy one or two times for Bond.”

            Jack nodded, still grinning. “Let’s see Daniel Craig do that.” Both men paused for a moment, considering the merits of watching Daniel Craig do something like that. Ianto reluctantly abandoned that train of thought when he remembered they were naked and freezing in an alleyway.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Ianto sighed. “I’m never going to be able to eat popcorn while watching Bond again.”

            Pulling Ianto into a one-armed hug, Jack steered them toward a backdoor of one of the buildings surrounding them. “Hey, at least we have a one-up on Bond, right?”

            With a long-suffering sigh, Ianto allowed Jack to sneak them into the back of the building. “Wouldn’t exactly call it that.”

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