Title: it's a long way down from here
By: carolinecrane
Pairing: Jake/alien, Jake/Mickey, in a manner of speaking
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jake's still pining for his dead boyfriend, he's got a hopeless crush on a straight guy, and he's being held captive by a giant alien squid. Things can only get worse. ~3200 words.
Warnings: Kink bingo fic #9. Warnings for tentacle porn and silliness and a little dub-con (though I think that's sort of implied in the whole 'tentacle porn' genre.)
A/N: In a perfect world, there would be so much fic in which Mickey and Jake go on alien adventures, make out, and declare their love for each other that I would have something new to read every day. In a perfect world, I would fall for a popular pairing for once in my life. Alas. The point is that I love these two, so much that I am sort of sorry to do this to them. But in the process of writing this fic I figured out how to fix what went so horribly, terribly wrong for them in the last series, so maybe someday I'll get around to writing that.
In the meantime, I wrote this. I'm not that thrilled with it, but I've never written tentacle porn before, so I guess I have to start somewhere. It's unbetaed and un-Brit-picked, mostly because I couldn't think of anyone to ask, so feel free to point out anything that bugs.

***

Thing was, this wasn't exactly what Jake signed on for. Granted, when he set out to save the world -- London, anyway -- from an intergalactic conspiracy, he should have expected they'd run into more than just Cybermen at some point. Not that the Cybermen weren't enough excitement for anybody, but it seemed wherever aliens were up to no good, the Doctor wasn't far behind, and once the Doctor turned up...well, there was no telling who'd follow.

So he wasn't all that surprised to find himself ten feet in the air, face pressed into a wall and kicking pointlessly at the tentacles slowly twining up his legs, but he wasn't what you'd call pleased about it, either.

This wasn't at all what they expected when they set out to defend London from the latest alien invasion. The first aliens they saw had looked downright normal: humanoid in shape, friendly, even, and Jake had sort of hoped that they'd be harmless for once. It wasn't until they'd lured a few unsuspecting humans into their spaceship 'just for a look around' that they began to suspect something was funny, and when people started exploding six to eight hours after visiting the spaceship, they decided it was time to take matters into their own hands.

"Should've known better," he muttered as he struggled against the thick, rubbery appendages wrapping around his waist. "It's always, 'What'll we do today? I know, let's engage in a hostile takeover of London!' Nobody ever comes here just to say how do you do."

Another tentacle slid up his torso, around one arm and pulling it tight against his side. He struggled to escape its grip, but the tentacle monster was faster than him, and before he knew it Jake was left with only one hand to work with. His weapons were all long gone, and even his cell phone was history, so he couldn't call Mickey and arrange a daring rescue. Not that he really wanted Mickey to see him like this, but it would be better than getting squeezed to death by an intergalactic octopus.

"Let go, you bloody shapeshifting squid." Jake hissed the words through gritted teeth as he tugged uselessly at the tentacle sliding around his neck. This one was thinner than the others, at least, but it was just as tough, and it didn't even flinch when Jake dug his nails in as hard as he could. Reduced to fighting like a girl, and even that didn't have any affect. So he was going to be choked to death by a spaceship that turned out to be a giant alien, and it was his own fault for wanting to believe that they'd run into a friendly species for once.

Only the tentacle around his throat wasn't tightening, and Jake wasn't sure what it was waiting for, exactly. It was still holding him in place, face to the wall so he couldn't see what was going on in the rest of the room. He felt a pulsing where the tentacles made contact with his skin, warm and...not pleasant, exactly, but not altogether horrible, either. So it wouldn't be a horrible, painful death, then; it was a small comfort, considering he'd already lost his boyfriend to an alien robot army, and he hadn't had so much as a decent snog since.

So he was going to die at the...well, at the tentacles of a giant, handsy alien, and it was the most action he'd seen in over a year.

The tentacles that were working their way up his legs inched higher, past his knees to creep up his thighs. He could feel the pulsing heat through his trousers now, pressing further and further up his legs and Jake blushed when he felt his cock start to take notice. He couldn't really blame it; it had been a long, dry spell, mostly because he'd been so focused on defeating the Cybermen that he hadn't had time for dating. And okay, there was that whole 'spending all my time with the love of my life's definitely not queer doppelganger' thing, which just confused the situation. Still, he was a grown man, so he shouldn't be getting turned on by an overgrown squid with no sense of boundaries.

It was small comfort knowing that at least there was no one around to witness his humiliation. The alien squid seemed to notice his interest, however, because as soon as Jake started to get hard, the tentacles around his thighs tightened and yanked his legs wide open. "Bloody hell," he said, panic rising in his chest as a tentacle slid across the front of his trousers, spreading heat as the alien thing worked out how to get Jake's zipper down.

Of all the things he expected to find when they infiltrated the alien spaceship, this wasn't one of them. This one never even entered his mind, because people had come in here before and not a single one of them mentioned anything about...this. About the tentacle easing his zipper down, popping open the lone button at his waistband and sliding along his stomach, leaving a trail of warm moisture in its wake and bugger if it wasn't self-lubricating. A bubble of hysterical laughter rose up in him as his trousers and then his shorts slid down, and he felt the air building in his lungs for a shout. He wasn't even sure if the plan was to call for help and hope someone -- anyone, except possibly Mickey -- was near enough to hear, or if he was just going to let loose with a wordless, girlish scream.

And he'd never know, because as soon as he opened his mouth again the tentacle that had been sort of undulating against his neck slid between his lips, probing gently inside. A fresh tentacle came out of nowhere to push his shirt up his chest, probing at his belly button until Jake made a muffled 'mmphh' sound around the one still exploring his mouth. Whether the alien could read his thoughts or just figured out on its own that it wasn't getting anywhere with Jake's stomach, the tentacle slid further up to cover one nipple, pulsing against Jake's chest until he felt his nipple harden. The other one got the same treatment, and when the squid-thing finally finished Jake was panting and flushed, straining even harder against the tentacles holding him in place.

It was a bloody stupid way to die, and that was the worst part: Jake was pretty sure he wasn't going to die, at least not right away. Instead he was going to hang here in mid-air, being taken advantage of by some intergalactic pervert that hadn't even bothered to buy him a pint first, and then he was going to be sent on his merry way, only to explode in a few hours. That part he hadn't quite figured out yet, but when a tentacle slid between his thighs and curved around his arse, he started to get the picture.

Two smaller tentacles spread him open, a third wrapping around his cock and pulsing, and Jake would have been embarrassed at how good it felt, except that nobody had touched his cock except him since Ricky died. So this was all just a bizarre wake-up call, really, a reminder that he needed to carry on with his life and stop pining. Except that he was probably going to die in a few hours, so the chances of getting on with things were looking fairly grim.

And maybe there was some sort of poison in whatever was oozing out of the tentacles that made humans crazy, because as a firm, thick tentacle pushed inside him, Jake thought to himself that it was better that this happen to him than Mickey. A poison that made humans slowly go crazy would explain the fact that no one seemed to remember what happened to them when the alien finally let them go. The exploding part was still a mystery, but when the tentacle probed deep enough to hit his prostate, Jake forgot what it was he'd been trying to work out.

He moaned around the tentacle still filling his mouth, his whole body swinging as he rocked back and forth between the tentacle working his cock and the one inside him. He'd never actually tried any of those fancy contraptions they made for this sort of thing, but he imagined this would be what one of those swings he'd seen in porn videos felt like. His whole body supported by a few straps, just sort of floating as he was violated as thoroughly as possible. Then again, he'd never shagged anybody with limitless appendages before, so recreating the experience would take either a couple blokes, or a whole bunch of toys.

Not that he wanted to recreate anything. Not that he'd get a chance even if he did, given that whole exploding problem.

Jake breathed in hard through his nose as the tentacle inside him bumped up against his prostate, hitting it over and over until he was sure he was going to pass out. The tentacle on his cock was still pulsing, and as he got close to losing control, it started moving gently up and down. Almost like it was teasing him, the bastard, and if Jake was going to go through all this then at least he deserved to get off.

He arched up hard, the tentacles around his arms and legs sort of lifting him even as they spread him wider, which was a neat bloody trick, Jake thought, considering he was already stretched so far he was sure he was going to split open. Another hard press against his prostate and Jake's whole body convulsed, and he knew that any second he was either going to burst apart at the seams or come as hard as he ever had in his life. Either way, really, as long as the thing got on with it already.

Jake moaned low in his throat, and the tentacle in his mouth popped free. For a second he thought it was the pervy alien wanting to hear him beg for it, but then he heard a familiar voice and the tentacle inside him disappeared. He bit back another moan, frustrated this time, and looked down in time to watch the tentacle on his cock let go and then drop to the ground below him. He was still hard as nails, dangling by one arm and a thigh, but he managed to turn enough to catch a glimpse of Mickey. When he wasn't going at the alien with what looked like a flamethrower, Mickey kept looking up at him with exactly the expression Jake would have predicted, and he sort of wished he hadn't bothered to look. Humiliating, is what it was, and he couldn't even pull his trousers back up because he was still suspended in mid-air.

As if pining for his dead boyfriend and his dead boyfriend's very much alive double wasn't shameful enough, now Jake had to live with the fact that he was actually disappointed that his first -- and last, he sincerely hoped -- alien...well, encounter had been interrupted. Meanwhile, Mickey was still hacking away at every part of the alien he could reach, and Jake could see exactly where this was going.

"Oi!" he shouted as the tentacle still wrapped around his thigh fell away, leaving him dangling by one arm. Then his arm was free as well, and he was falling, trousers hanging from one ankle and his shirt still rucked up about his chest. So this was how he was going to die, he thought as he hit the ground, practically starkers and still hard, and in front of the one person who mattered.

Only the fall didn't kill him either, because he'd managed somehow to land on a great rubbery pile of severed, smoking tentacles, some of which had no doubt been places Jake still wasn't prepared to contemplate. The whole room smelled of burning tires and swamp water, the acrid smell making his eyes burn. He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying there when Mickey loomed into his line of sight, frowning in that pinched way that always made him look far too much like Ricky. "You all right, mate?"

No thanks to you, Jake thought, but he didn't bother saying it out loud, because it would just cause a stupid fight. Then again, a stupid fight might be a good distraction from the scene Mickey had walked in on, and Jake wondered how many nightmares it was going to cause. For both of them, if he was being honest.

"Think so," he said instead, carefully avoiding Mickey's gaze as he sat up and set about pulling his clothes back on. Not that Mickey was looking at him; he was looking anywhere but, in fact, and Jake imagined it would go on that way for awhile.

"That thing didn't...you know...in you, did it?"

"Didn't what?" Jake asked, frowning down at his trousers as he tried to remember how to button them. He was feeling a bit hazy, and he was still hard but he was having a little trouble remembering why. Though Mickey's proximity was usually excuse enough for that, so he supposed he should be used to it by now.

Before he managed to get his trousers fastened Mickey grabbed his arm, yanking hard enough to get Jake's attention. "It's important, mate. Did it, you know, get off?"

Jake had a vague memory of something pushing inside him, and when he looked down at the pile of tentacles at his feet he remembered what Mickey was on about. "I...I don't think so. Not sure, to be honest."

Mickey looked vaguely ill, but he looked even more alarmed, and that was enough to alarm Jake. "How can you not know? Don't answer that," Mickey said when Jake opened his mouth. His hand tightened on Jake's arm to drag Jake toward the nearest exit as he spoke. "Come on, they've set up decontamination showers for the people who haven't exploded yet. No idea if it's actually working, but so far so good."

Jake let Mickey steer him out of the room, stumbling over a few smoking tentacles as he worked to keep up. When they'd cleared the great beast he looked back, watching as the giant alien octopod shuddered and let loose a stream of sticky, sour-smelling goo. He wasn't sure if that was blood or the alien's bizarre tentacle lube or what, but if that was the stuff he was meant to have inside him, he certainly hoped the thing hadn't gotten that far.

"Blimey," Jake murmured as Mickey pulled him out of the room. When they reached the safety of the hall Jake pulled his arm out of Mickey's grip, stopping in his tracks and glaring until Mickey turned to face him. "You mean that giant squid thing...it's making people explode by filling them with that...stuff?"

"Seems like," Mickey said. "Near as we can tell it's been grabbing people, then...well, you know, and somehow wiping their memories. A few hours later they blow up, and about ten more squid things turn up. They're quite a bit smaller at first, obviously, but they grow bloody fast. Took awhile to figure out what would kill them."

There were so many questions racing through Jake's mind that he wasn't sure where to start. He wondered whose idea it was to try a flamethrower, of all things, and he wondered how exactly a decontamination shower was going to save him from certain explosion. He wondered just how long he'd been in that room with the alien, and why it had taken Mickey so long to rescue him. He wanted to know where Pete was in all this, if the Doctor had been the one to figure it out or if somebody else had beat him to the punch for once, and he wanted to know exactly where Mickey had been while Jake was being...well, taken advantage of, at any rate. But more than anything, he really wanted to know why Mickey was looking at him like he couldn't decide whether to cry or revisit his breakfast. "Wait, are you telling me I might be pregnant?"

Mickey didn't answer, but he wouldn't look at Jake, either, and that told him everything he needed to know. Up to now, the worst day of his life was the day Ricky died, but this one was a close second. Jake sighed and glanced down the hall, then back to where Mickey was still carefully not looking at him. "So where are these showers, then?"

He followed Mickey down the hall, through some sort of passageway made of plastic sheeting and what looked like duct tape, and into a large white room that had been fitted with two rows of showers. Each one had a curtain, and at the end of the row there was a person handing out plastic bottles with little red caps. Jake had seen those bottles before; he'd used them enough to know exactly what they were for, in fact, and really, he should have been expecting this.

It wasn't the enema itself so much as the fact that everyone in the room knew exactly what he was about to do, including Mickey. He still wasn't quite looking at Jake, and the fact that his best mate was disgusted by him made Jake feel worse than the idea that he might go through all this and explode anyway. So now he'd not only lost Ricky, but he'd lost even the fantasy of Mickey, and that made this the official worst day of his life.

"Just perfect," he said, sliding his jacket off and handing it to Mickey before he headed for the showers. Once he had his bottle in hand he pulled his shirt off and hung it on the hook outside the nearest empty shower, then he slid the zipper on his trousers back down. As he stepped into the shower and turned to pull the curtain closed he caught sight of Mickey, still standing in the same place Jake had left him with Jake's jacket slung over his arm. He expected Mickey to look vaguely ill, like he was trying not to picture what Jake was about to do, or maybe just trying to forget what he'd already seen with his own eyes. But Mickey was staring at Jake's trousers with a different expression entirely than the one Jake expected, and when he realized Jake was watching he frowned and looked away.

He couldn't be positive, of course, but Jake was fairly sure that for the first time ever, he'd just caught Mickey checking him out. Of course, he could have just been reliving the trauma of seeing Jake starkers and being violated by an alien, but it didn't look like he was all that traumatized from where Jake was standing. It wasn't much comfort, considering the day he'd had, and there was no guarantee Jake wasn't going to explode in a few hours. But if he managed to make it through the rest of the day without giving birth to a bunch of alien tentacle creatures or otherwise dying, this might not turn out to be the worst day of his life after all.

***