Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Summary: Ianto finds himself a bit tied up, and not in a good way.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 552 – Knotted Rope at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Ianto twisted his wrists against the knotted rope and sighed; tied up again, and not in the fun way since he was pretty sure Jack wasn’t the one responsible.
For one thing, Jack generally used soft cords bought specifically for the purpose of tying Ianto up, or one of Ianto’s ties, or one of the pairs of fluffy handcuffs from their toy box. What he did NOT use was the coarse, fibrous, hairy rope that was currently digging into the tender flesh of Ianto’s wrists somewhere behind his back.
For another thing, Jack preferred to tie Ianto up in their bedroom at home, or in his office, or the cubbyhole beneath it, or the archives, the boardroom, the lift, the tourist office, the firing range, or some other familiar place. This, wherever it might be, was none of those places. It was more like a disused warehouse, which made sense, since the last thing Ianto recalled was being down near the docks searching disused warehouses for the source of an unidentified signal that appeared to be of alien origin. Possibly.
“Captured by aliens,” he muttered to himself, annoyed, as he tested the tightness of his bonds, hoping they might give enough that he could free himself. “There go the last shreds of my dignity. If the rest of the team has to rescue me I’ll never hear the end of it.” He thought about shouting in the hopes that Jack might be somewhere nearby looking for him, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to draw the attention of whoever had tied him up, especially since he was currently trying to untie himself.
The ropes and knots were tight, but he’d had training back at Torchwood One on how to free himself from various forms of restraint, and he knew a few tricks. He also happened to have long, strong, and very dextrous fingers, and was remarkably flexible. It might take him a while, but the ropes already felt a little looser than they had been when he’d first awoken. Persistence was the key, although the more Ianto worked on the ropes, the more painfully they abraded his wrists. He needed to be careful; getting blood on the knots might make them more difficult to unfasten. He wondered if Jack was tied up too, or wandering around looking for him. There was no way of finding out since he’d lost his Bluetooth earpiece when he was knocked out.
Twenty minutes later, having finally freed his hands and made short work of unknotting the ropes from around his ankles, Ianto went in search of Jack, eventually finding him trussed up in yards of rope, gagged, and left lying against the wall. Unravelling him took some time.
“Usually I’m all for bondage games,” Jack said as he sat up, trying to get some feeling back into his limbs, “but those guys were just rude.”
“Aliens?” Ianto asked, not having seen them himself.
“Humans. What say we leave them to the police?”