It's Beginning To Get To Me - 1/? - Lying My Way From You
Title: It’s Beginning To Get To Me - 1/?
Rating: 15
Characters: Ianto, Owen, (Jack mentioned).
Pairings: Ianto/Owen. Jack/Ianto (mentioned).
Chapter: Chapter One of "Lying My Way From You".
Spoilers: If you’ve seen series one, you’ll be fine.
Summary: There’s just something about Ianto Jones that Owen can’t understand…..and it’s slowly driving him insane.
Disclaimer: Regrettably I own nothing, none of the characters, zip. Wish I did though.
Author’s Notes: Back in the world of Ownto then, since I seem to be inspired to write this in between chapters of TOATA. But yes, anyway, a huge thank you to the wonderfulthehubsitter for beta'ing for me, and as always any comments I receive from you good people as absolutely adored! :)
Forthehubsitter , for being a marvellous pally and fellow crazed ownto shipper. Written with you in mind m’dear!!
Partially inspired by this video by crapaudine on youtube!
And it's beginning to get to me
That I know more of the stars and sea
Than I do of what's in your head’.
It was beginning to get to him.
That sickeningly unreal smile that seemed to gleam its way across the board room. What the hell did it mean? He knew what it was supposed to mean, what it was supposed to say. It was Ianto Jones’ way of being supportive, reassuring, a mere gesture of hope in an other wise dismal meeting. But why did that smile always seem to rest on him longer than anyone else? Why was it that whenever Owen Harper looked up, those arctic blue eyes were always there.
Maybe they had always been there, and he simply had only just started noticing. After all, since Jack had left, Owen had found himself noticing a lot more around the Hub. He’d noticed how Ianto was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, noticed how long he spent down in the archives, only to surface whenever he knew that the rest of his team mates needed a coffee. He’d seen the sharpness of Ianto’s aim, seen the softness of his gaze on those late nights when it seemed that they would never be going home. Over those months he had realised just how integral a part of their team Ianto was. With Jack gone, Owen could no longer shrug him off as a part time shag, and was forced to see him for the man he truly was. Forced to see him as the glue that kept their team together, as the mediator of all his arguments with Gwen, as a guardian whenever they worked late and he insisted on seeing the girl’s safely home. If he was still a cynic he would have just shrugged all Ianto’s actions off as an apparent attempt at making himself seem more important in Jack’s absence. But recently……Owen Harper was finding it much harder to be cynical about anything. There just didn’t seem to be a point to it anymore.
However hard he tried to mock Ianto like he had used to, Owen simply couldn’t do it, one particular memory jamming his thoughts like a cog jams a wheel. The memory of one night when Ianto had actually cared and had looked after him. It had thrown him off guard, and ever since the memory had been stuck in his mind, over looking everything. After all, looking after the girls was something Owen had always half expected of Ianto, but looking after him too? Ianto Jones had always presented himself as the man that every father tells their son to become, the quiet, brave gentleman who cares for those closest to him and refuses to complain about it. But never in his mind had Owen ever thought that he might be a part of any of that….
They had been in a hospital of all places when it had happened. A deserted old maternity ward tracking down a weevil. It had been quiet as they’d walked down the corridor, and the weevil had blind sighted Owen before he had the chance to react. They had managed to subdue it relatively quickly, but not before the creature had managed to claw away at Ianto’s left arm and gouge out a deep channel in Owen’s right thigh. He’d tried to push Ianto away as he helped him stem the bleeding, but the younger man had ignored him, removing his jacket and tying it around his leg. Owen remembered yelling at him madly when Ianto lifted him from the floor, supporting his weight as they moved back to the SUV. He had felt vulnerable there, with his arm thrown around Ianto’s neck whilst his unfamiliar arm curled around his waist, and for Owen that had been the worst part of it all. He wasn’t used to being out of control either as he had waited in the SUV front passenger seat for Ianto to load the weevil into the back, before climbing in beside him and driving them back to the Hub. At least during the journey he had been able to divert his attentions, injecting his leg with a mix of pain killers and averting his gaze out of the window whilst he hissed with silent frustration.
“Go home.” Owen had grunted as Ianto helped him onto the autopsy table. He looked down to avoid his gaze, admiring the large tear in his jeans that ran the length of the cut. The younger man stayed silent, ignoring his words and searching for the supplies that he needed. Owen shook his head, groaning softly as he undid his jeans and slid them down gently to his knees so he could examine his wound. As soon as Ianto returned to his side he spoke again in anger, his voice filled with as much false authority as he could muster. “Didn’t you hear me? I thought that I had just told you to go?”
“Not leaving you in this state.” Ianto sighed, refusing to look at him as he moved to clean the wound, pressing a wipe onto it gently and batting Owen’s hands away when they tried to interfere.
“Ianto….for fuck’s sake will you just-”
“You need stitches.” The Welshman interrupted, risking him a soft glance.
“You think I don’t know that? I’m a doctor for crying out loud.”
“Not now you’re not.” The other man smiled weakly, reaching for the suture kit. “Or is it impossible for you to be the patient for once?”
“I can do that….” Owen swallowed, resting a hand on the open kit beside him. “I don’t need you to…..”
“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Ianto smiled in return, batting away his hand again before giving the wound another thorough clean. “I’m sorry if I hurt you….”
Owen had wanted to argue, but he knew it was hopeless, choosing instead to lean back and just let the other man win. He had watched Ianto intently; watching for any mistake that might mean that he would have to redo the stitching himself once the other man had left. But he found no fault, and as Ianto continued to slowly close the wound, Owen realised that the younger man had definitely done this many times. Yes, he had only used a simple interrupted stitching technique, but it was effective and faultless as far as Owen could see.
“There….” Ianto smiled, cutting away the excess suture and moving to wash his hands. “Wasn’t so bad was it?”
“No……I s’pose not.” Owen replied bitterly, biting his lip as he watched the man in front of him curiously. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Standard training at Canary Wharf. Called it “advanced first aid”. It comes in handy once in a while.”
“Yeah…..”
“Do you want me to drive you home? I don’t mind….”
“No….I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” The younger man asked, raising an eyebrow as he returned to the table, clearing away the suture kit and throwing away the packaging.
“I’m fine….”
“You don’t have to be.”
“But I am.” Owen sighed, although he no longer had the desire to argue. There was something in Ianto’s face that softened him, made him suddenly wonder why they were arguing, why he was pretending to be so strong all of the time. Why couldn’t he let someone in? Why did he have to hide all of the time? “Ianto….”
“Yes?”
“Um……thank you.” Owen smiled, reaching out and clumsily grabbing his wrist.
“It’s not a problem.”
“I know but….” Owen wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to do, but in a swift movement he found himself pulling on Ianto’s wrist, forcing the younger man closer. Soon their faces were barely inches a part, and for once Owen was forcing himself to look into Ianto’s confused, yet lustfully dark eyes. The medic was shaking by the time he leaned forward, pressing an awkward kiss to the other man’s lips and praying for a response. His prayers were answered in the form of Ianto’s arms wrapping around his waist, the younger man tilting his head to allow the medic to deepen the kiss. He didn’t know for how long they had stayed like that, Ianto’s lips softly devouring his, giving him all he needed as they sucked tentatively on his bottom lip. It had felt so long since Owen had kissed anyone that he didn’t pull away until he thought that he had to, moving away slowly and focusing his attention on pulling his tatter jeans back up his legs. There was no need for him to hide just how much he wanted Ianto, that was apparent, but as he quickly and painfully left the Hub, Owen was simply intent of hiding just how much he needed him that night…..
But that wasn’t the real reason why Ianto Jones was still getting to him.
Three weeks later, Jack had come back, and Owen has pushed all memory of the kiss to the back of his thoughts. After all, it was no secret that Jack intended to resume things with Ianto, and besides even the medic had noticed just how Ianto had seemed to suffer in their Captain’s absence. So Owen had resigned himself to the kiss just being a lonely act for them both, and that it was something that would never happen again. And he could settle for that….or at least, he could if Ianto would just stop looking at him like that.
When ever he had been in turmoil before, Owen had found that drinking was the best remedy. It was all he knew in some cases and the strange sense of familiarity of alcohol stinging at the back of his throat was almost comforting. After all with enough alcohol in his brain Owen could block out all the questions and forget everything and anything that didn’t make sense. Ianto Jones especially. And so that was what he did, every night after work spent in the same bar, both his thoughts and his troubles drowning away in a pool of toxic alcohol…..
The same music that was always played out on a Friday night was pounding through the bar, the same piercing neon lights cutting through the humid atmosphere and drowning out everything else. Around him bodies were pulsing, casting out random shapes as they writhed in time to the music. Owen had switched from drinking pints of lager at this point to shots of vodka, the clearer, stronger liquid carrying the intensity that he needed. Every new bittersweet tang of alcohol was almost empowering as it thrashed against the back of his throat, clearing his thoughts and opening his mind. Except that night, the alcohol was only highlighting what Owen wanted to forget the most. Ianto; right there before his blurred vision, those knowing blue eyes staring deep into his across the bar. What was it about him that made him so hard to ignore, so hard to forget? Why did Owen want to see him above any one else that night?
It was after two more shots of vodka that Owen truly realised he was losing his mind. Across the bar by the entrance, a familiar tall frame was stood, his eyes scanning the room, actively looking for something. Owen swallowed hard, shaking his head to try and remove the hallucination from his mind. Surely he hadn’t drunk so much that his brain was actually imagining Ianto Jones right there in front of him?
As the man moved closer, it became apparent by his blank expression and the quickening of Owen’s pulse that it was actually Ianto. The welsh man’s steps were deliberate as he strode forward towards the bar, Owen straightening up, watching the younger man intently whilst smoothing out the imaginary creases of his shirt. Time seemed to slow down as he searched Ianto’s eyes for any understanding, yet as always he could glean nothing from those deep icy pools. By the time that he was facing him, Owen could feel blood thundering through his temples, the heady effect of lust counteracted by the disorientation of alcohol. The medic swayed slightly, reaching out tentatively to steady himself on Ianto’s shoulder, yet having the presence of mind to watch for any flinch or sign of distaste from the contact. He found none. In a steady stream of moments, Owen was leaning forward, close enough to Ianto’s face to feel his breath tickle against his lips and caress his cheeks. In any other state the older man would have been too confused to take a chance, but as soon as the scent from Ianto’s after shave hit his nostrils he launched forwards, capturing the other man’s mouth in a firm kiss. Gone was the caring kiss that they had shared three weeks earlier, replaced by clashing tongues, clinking teeth and possessive lips. Their hands grasped clumsily at their clothing, Owen’s fists bunching around the fabric of Ianto’s jacket as he pulled him in closer, his other clamped to the back of his neck, terrified that he might pull away any moment. But Ianto didn’t……and in the moments that followed Owen found himself being pulled outside the bar and into Ianto’s car parked outside…..
It was for one night only, but that didn’t matter. Lying in Ianto’s bed that night, for the first time in months, everything made sense to Owen. His relationship with Ianto could never go any further, not with all the obstacles that they both faced, not with Jack and Ianto’s well placed loyalty in their Captain. But for just that night, Owen could be safe in the knowledge that Ianto felt the same for him, that the medic actually did mean something to someone, to the tea boy who he had once relished tormenting whenever he had the chance. It would all be over as quickly as it had begun, as when the light of day returned to Cardiff Owen could be sure that the blankness of Ianto’s eyes would return, and whatever honesty that had just shared for that night would be lost with their reappearance. But at least for that night, the questions that had plagued the doctor’s mind would be laid to rest, and for the first time in months, Owen could sleep soundly in the arms of someone who he knew cared for him……..
A random idea, but it was just begging me to be written. But anyway, what did we think? If you enjoyed it then a comment would be so greatly appreciated if you have the time! That being said, thank you for simply reading this far.
Just Being Me a.k.a Sisi
Click here for the sequel "Oblivious"
Rating: 15
Characters: Ianto, Owen, (Jack mentioned).
Pairings: Ianto/Owen. Jack/Ianto (mentioned).
Chapter: Chapter One of "Lying My Way From You".
Spoilers: If you’ve seen series one, you’ll be fine.
Summary: There’s just something about Ianto Jones that Owen can’t understand…..and it’s slowly driving him insane.
Disclaimer: Regrettably I own nothing, none of the characters, zip. Wish I did though.
Author’s Notes: Back in the world of Ownto then, since I seem to be inspired to write this in between chapters of TOATA. But yes, anyway, a huge thank you to the wonderfulthehubsitter for beta'ing for me, and as always any comments I receive from you good people as absolutely adored! :)
Forthehubsitter , for being a marvellous pally and fellow crazed ownto shipper. Written with you in mind m’dear!!
Partially inspired by this video by crapaudine on youtube!
And it's beginning to get to me
That I know more of the stars and sea
Than I do of what's in your head’.
It was beginning to get to him.
That sickeningly unreal smile that seemed to gleam its way across the board room. What the hell did it mean? He knew what it was supposed to mean, what it was supposed to say. It was Ianto Jones’ way of being supportive, reassuring, a mere gesture of hope in an other wise dismal meeting. But why did that smile always seem to rest on him longer than anyone else? Why was it that whenever Owen Harper looked up, those arctic blue eyes were always there.
Maybe they had always been there, and he simply had only just started noticing. After all, since Jack had left, Owen had found himself noticing a lot more around the Hub. He’d noticed how Ianto was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, noticed how long he spent down in the archives, only to surface whenever he knew that the rest of his team mates needed a coffee. He’d seen the sharpness of Ianto’s aim, seen the softness of his gaze on those late nights when it seemed that they would never be going home. Over those months he had realised just how integral a part of their team Ianto was. With Jack gone, Owen could no longer shrug him off as a part time shag, and was forced to see him for the man he truly was. Forced to see him as the glue that kept their team together, as the mediator of all his arguments with Gwen, as a guardian whenever they worked late and he insisted on seeing the girl’s safely home. If he was still a cynic he would have just shrugged all Ianto’s actions off as an apparent attempt at making himself seem more important in Jack’s absence. But recently……Owen Harper was finding it much harder to be cynical about anything. There just didn’t seem to be a point to it anymore.
However hard he tried to mock Ianto like he had used to, Owen simply couldn’t do it, one particular memory jamming his thoughts like a cog jams a wheel. The memory of one night when Ianto had actually cared and had looked after him. It had thrown him off guard, and ever since the memory had been stuck in his mind, over looking everything. After all, looking after the girls was something Owen had always half expected of Ianto, but looking after him too? Ianto Jones had always presented himself as the man that every father tells their son to become, the quiet, brave gentleman who cares for those closest to him and refuses to complain about it. But never in his mind had Owen ever thought that he might be a part of any of that….
They had been in a hospital of all places when it had happened. A deserted old maternity ward tracking down a weevil. It had been quiet as they’d walked down the corridor, and the weevil had blind sighted Owen before he had the chance to react. They had managed to subdue it relatively quickly, but not before the creature had managed to claw away at Ianto’s left arm and gouge out a deep channel in Owen’s right thigh. He’d tried to push Ianto away as he helped him stem the bleeding, but the younger man had ignored him, removing his jacket and tying it around his leg. Owen remembered yelling at him madly when Ianto lifted him from the floor, supporting his weight as they moved back to the SUV. He had felt vulnerable there, with his arm thrown around Ianto’s neck whilst his unfamiliar arm curled around his waist, and for Owen that had been the worst part of it all. He wasn’t used to being out of control either as he had waited in the SUV front passenger seat for Ianto to load the weevil into the back, before climbing in beside him and driving them back to the Hub. At least during the journey he had been able to divert his attentions, injecting his leg with a mix of pain killers and averting his gaze out of the window whilst he hissed with silent frustration.
“Go home.” Owen had grunted as Ianto helped him onto the autopsy table. He looked down to avoid his gaze, admiring the large tear in his jeans that ran the length of the cut. The younger man stayed silent, ignoring his words and searching for the supplies that he needed. Owen shook his head, groaning softly as he undid his jeans and slid them down gently to his knees so he could examine his wound. As soon as Ianto returned to his side he spoke again in anger, his voice filled with as much false authority as he could muster. “Didn’t you hear me? I thought that I had just told you to go?”
“Not leaving you in this state.” Ianto sighed, refusing to look at him as he moved to clean the wound, pressing a wipe onto it gently and batting Owen’s hands away when they tried to interfere.
“Ianto….for fuck’s sake will you just-”
“You need stitches.” The Welshman interrupted, risking him a soft glance.
“You think I don’t know that? I’m a doctor for crying out loud.”
“Not now you’re not.” The other man smiled weakly, reaching for the suture kit. “Or is it impossible for you to be the patient for once?”
“I can do that….” Owen swallowed, resting a hand on the open kit beside him. “I don’t need you to…..”
“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Ianto smiled in return, batting away his hand again before giving the wound another thorough clean. “I’m sorry if I hurt you….”
Owen had wanted to argue, but he knew it was hopeless, choosing instead to lean back and just let the other man win. He had watched Ianto intently; watching for any mistake that might mean that he would have to redo the stitching himself once the other man had left. But he found no fault, and as Ianto continued to slowly close the wound, Owen realised that the younger man had definitely done this many times. Yes, he had only used a simple interrupted stitching technique, but it was effective and faultless as far as Owen could see.
“There….” Ianto smiled, cutting away the excess suture and moving to wash his hands. “Wasn’t so bad was it?”
“No……I s’pose not.” Owen replied bitterly, biting his lip as he watched the man in front of him curiously. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Standard training at Canary Wharf. Called it “advanced first aid”. It comes in handy once in a while.”
“Yeah…..”
“Do you want me to drive you home? I don’t mind….”
“No….I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” The younger man asked, raising an eyebrow as he returned to the table, clearing away the suture kit and throwing away the packaging.
“I’m fine….”
“You don’t have to be.”
“But I am.” Owen sighed, although he no longer had the desire to argue. There was something in Ianto’s face that softened him, made him suddenly wonder why they were arguing, why he was pretending to be so strong all of the time. Why couldn’t he let someone in? Why did he have to hide all of the time? “Ianto….”
“Yes?”
“Um……thank you.” Owen smiled, reaching out and clumsily grabbing his wrist.
“It’s not a problem.”
“I know but….” Owen wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to do, but in a swift movement he found himself pulling on Ianto’s wrist, forcing the younger man closer. Soon their faces were barely inches a part, and for once Owen was forcing himself to look into Ianto’s confused, yet lustfully dark eyes. The medic was shaking by the time he leaned forward, pressing an awkward kiss to the other man’s lips and praying for a response. His prayers were answered in the form of Ianto’s arms wrapping around his waist, the younger man tilting his head to allow the medic to deepen the kiss. He didn’t know for how long they had stayed like that, Ianto’s lips softly devouring his, giving him all he needed as they sucked tentatively on his bottom lip. It had felt so long since Owen had kissed anyone that he didn’t pull away until he thought that he had to, moving away slowly and focusing his attention on pulling his tatter jeans back up his legs. There was no need for him to hide just how much he wanted Ianto, that was apparent, but as he quickly and painfully left the Hub, Owen was simply intent of hiding just how much he needed him that night…..
But that wasn’t the real reason why Ianto Jones was still getting to him.
Three weeks later, Jack had come back, and Owen has pushed all memory of the kiss to the back of his thoughts. After all, it was no secret that Jack intended to resume things with Ianto, and besides even the medic had noticed just how Ianto had seemed to suffer in their Captain’s absence. So Owen had resigned himself to the kiss just being a lonely act for them both, and that it was something that would never happen again. And he could settle for that….or at least, he could if Ianto would just stop looking at him like that.
When ever he had been in turmoil before, Owen had found that drinking was the best remedy. It was all he knew in some cases and the strange sense of familiarity of alcohol stinging at the back of his throat was almost comforting. After all with enough alcohol in his brain Owen could block out all the questions and forget everything and anything that didn’t make sense. Ianto Jones especially. And so that was what he did, every night after work spent in the same bar, both his thoughts and his troubles drowning away in a pool of toxic alcohol…..
The same music that was always played out on a Friday night was pounding through the bar, the same piercing neon lights cutting through the humid atmosphere and drowning out everything else. Around him bodies were pulsing, casting out random shapes as they writhed in time to the music. Owen had switched from drinking pints of lager at this point to shots of vodka, the clearer, stronger liquid carrying the intensity that he needed. Every new bittersweet tang of alcohol was almost empowering as it thrashed against the back of his throat, clearing his thoughts and opening his mind. Except that night, the alcohol was only highlighting what Owen wanted to forget the most. Ianto; right there before his blurred vision, those knowing blue eyes staring deep into his across the bar. What was it about him that made him so hard to ignore, so hard to forget? Why did Owen want to see him above any one else that night?
It was after two more shots of vodka that Owen truly realised he was losing his mind. Across the bar by the entrance, a familiar tall frame was stood, his eyes scanning the room, actively looking for something. Owen swallowed hard, shaking his head to try and remove the hallucination from his mind. Surely he hadn’t drunk so much that his brain was actually imagining Ianto Jones right there in front of him?
As the man moved closer, it became apparent by his blank expression and the quickening of Owen’s pulse that it was actually Ianto. The welsh man’s steps were deliberate as he strode forward towards the bar, Owen straightening up, watching the younger man intently whilst smoothing out the imaginary creases of his shirt. Time seemed to slow down as he searched Ianto’s eyes for any understanding, yet as always he could glean nothing from those deep icy pools. By the time that he was facing him, Owen could feel blood thundering through his temples, the heady effect of lust counteracted by the disorientation of alcohol. The medic swayed slightly, reaching out tentatively to steady himself on Ianto’s shoulder, yet having the presence of mind to watch for any flinch or sign of distaste from the contact. He found none. In a steady stream of moments, Owen was leaning forward, close enough to Ianto’s face to feel his breath tickle against his lips and caress his cheeks. In any other state the older man would have been too confused to take a chance, but as soon as the scent from Ianto’s after shave hit his nostrils he launched forwards, capturing the other man’s mouth in a firm kiss. Gone was the caring kiss that they had shared three weeks earlier, replaced by clashing tongues, clinking teeth and possessive lips. Their hands grasped clumsily at their clothing, Owen’s fists bunching around the fabric of Ianto’s jacket as he pulled him in closer, his other clamped to the back of his neck, terrified that he might pull away any moment. But Ianto didn’t……and in the moments that followed Owen found himself being pulled outside the bar and into Ianto’s car parked outside…..
It was for one night only, but that didn’t matter. Lying in Ianto’s bed that night, for the first time in months, everything made sense to Owen. His relationship with Ianto could never go any further, not with all the obstacles that they both faced, not with Jack and Ianto’s well placed loyalty in their Captain. But for just that night, Owen could be safe in the knowledge that Ianto felt the same for him, that the medic actually did mean something to someone, to the tea boy who he had once relished tormenting whenever he had the chance. It would all be over as quickly as it had begun, as when the light of day returned to Cardiff Owen could be sure that the blankness of Ianto’s eyes would return, and whatever honesty that had just shared for that night would be lost with their reappearance. But at least for that night, the questions that had plagued the doctor’s mind would be laid to rest, and for the first time in months, Owen could sleep soundly in the arms of someone who he knew cared for him……..
A random idea, but it was just begging me to be written. But anyway, what did we think? If you enjoyed it then a comment would be so greatly appreciated if you have the time! That being said, thank you for simply reading this far.
Just Being Me a.k.a Sisi
Click here for the sequel "Oblivious"