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Title:  These Boots Are Made for Walking
Author: czarina_kitty
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing/character:  Ianto Jones/Toshiko Sato
Rating:  R
Kink:  foot/shoe fetish
Warnings: Spoilers for Cyberwoman and Greeks Bearing Gifts
Disclaimer: I do not own, or make any money from the use of, these characters.
Notes: written for a square on my kink_bingo card

           

             It was only after Mary that he went to her about the boots.  She was, in many ways, the obvious choice for this, but before Mary he did not think she would understand.  She had the small feet and delicate ankles that he desired, the intelligence and skill he wanted, and now, the bond of heartbreak that suddenly made her attainable.  And she looked good in heels.

            Before Mary he hadn’t thought she would understand.  Waiting for her to answer the door to her flat, he wasn’t sure he did.

              “Ianto.  What are you doing here?”  Toshiko asked, opening the door and stepping back to allow him to enter.  “Is there a problem?  Does Jack need us?”

            “No, there’s no emergency.  I just…” he stopped talking for a moment, not sure how to proceed.  With a deep breath he asked, “How are you, Tosh?”

            “I’m…okay.  I think,” Tosh said, considering her answer carefully. “I don’t know.”

            “Yeah,” he sighed.  “I never did officially welcome you to the ‘Jack Harkness Killed My Girlfriend for the Good of the World’ club.”

            “How many of us do you think there are?” she asked.  “Worldwide, I mean.”

            “No idea,” Ianto said, sitting on the sofa and leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.

            “Do we have t-shirts?”

            “Secret decoder rings, I think.”

            “How are you, Ianto?  Really?” she asked.

“Fine,” he answered quickly.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop… earlier I mean…when I had the pendant…your thoughts…”

            “Some days are harder than others.  Today was…not good,” he said.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be,” he told her.  “But maybe we can help each other?”

            “What do you mean?” she asked, confused by his tone and his sudden refusal to make eye contact.

            “There’s something I want.  Something I need.  And there must be something you need.  I thought maybe, if you’re willing, we could come to an agreement.  You could help me with what I need and I can help you with what you need.”

            “What is it you need, Ianto?” Tosh asked quietly.

            Ianto leaned forward and pulled a pair of silver boots from the bag he had set on the floor.  Refusing to make eye contact he held them out to her and asked, hesitantly, “Would you wear these for me?”

            They were not particularly attractive as women’s footwear goes.  They were clunky and awkward, heavy and stiff, designed to support weight and allow for a solid footing rather than for fashion.  Strictly function before form. 

            Tosh reached to take boots, but was stopped when Ianto pulled them back.

            “I loved Lisa’s shoes,” he explained.  “I loved the way her feet arched when she wore heels, the way the tendons stretched, the way the muscles of her calves tightened.  The way her shoes clicked as she walked.  Sometimes she would wear nothing but her shoes when we…,” Ianto smiled weakly at Tosh.  

            Tosh nodded and slipped off her own shoes.  She was surprised by feel of cold metal against her skin as Ianto knelt on the floor in front of her and helped her into the boots.  “Ianto?” she asked.

            “They’re the only thing I saved.  I promise.  But I couldn’t bear to see them melted into slag,” he said.

            Tosh nodded again and stood.  Using one foot against his shoulder she pushed Ianto backwards until he was lying flat on his back.  Standing over him she slipped the toe of one foot between his thighs and nudged at the underside of his balls through his trousers.

Ianto moaned and brought one arm up to cover his tightly shut eyes.  Tosh moved her foot forward slightly and used the toe to press at the base of his cock, eliciting another moan from Ianto.  Slowly Tosh moved the boot up and forward until it was pressing along the length of Ianto’s erect member.  She gently rocked her foot forwards and back, applying as much pressure as she dared with the metal sole.  She watched as Ianto began to pant, turning his head from side to side without opening his eyes.  He began to shake slightly under her rhythm, squeezing his hands into fists and arching up into the pressure.  His face contorted into a grimace before his entire body tensed then completely relaxed.

  As Tosh removed her foot and sat back on the sofa, Ianto whispered the name “Lisa.”  She watched him roll onto his side and curl his body inward as she removed the boots.  Tosh sat on the floor next to Ianto and cradled his head as he cried.

 

Date: 2010-06-12 12:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lefaym.livejournal.com
Oooh, very sad, and fucked up in a way that is definitly consistent with Ianto's character.

Nice use of the kink_bingo prompt. (I'm not, of course, saying that the kink itself is fucked up -- just that Ianto is. :P)
Edited Date: 2010-06-12 12:12 pm (UTC)

Date: 2010-06-12 12:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] czarina-kitty.livejournal.com
Thanks.
Fucked up characters are so much easier and more fun to write.

Date: 2010-09-01 01:33 pm (UTC)
laeria: Implied-Parisian lamp post, Eiffel tower, people embracing, all meshed together and looking golden-autumny, um. (Default)
From: [personal profile] laeria (from livejournal.com)
So cool! Finally a rational explanation for the cyberheels. Also, I lovelovelove the idea of their club.

Date: 2010-09-01 06:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] czarina-kitty.livejournal.com
Thank you. I don't think there is any reason for the cyberheels.

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