I Kissed A Boy (1/1)
TITLE: I Kissed A Boy
AUTHOR: naddypants
RATING: 15
SUMMARY: Sometimes people and things just aren't that simple and superficial...
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Special thanks to
just_being_me08 for getting me started on my Ownto love! And for being my wonderful special guest star beta! Also, thanks to Cobra Starship for covering the song I stole the title from. :P
DISCLAIMER: Everything Torchwood belongs to RTD and the big Beeb. Please don't sue me, I'm a student!
Dedicated to the ever-wonderful just_being_me08 whose fault it is that I love Ownto (not that I'm complaining!) and who is an amazing writer in her own right!
I'm close to giving up...the young man thought, pondering what was left of his night into the white Russian he'd just ordered.
He'd been in the club before, just to drown out his thoughts in the pulsing lights, beats and bodies soaked with sweat. Just like any low-rent night club in any faceless city, it was equivocally shit, but it wasn't hard for him to pick up an easy chick to fuck for the rest of the night before returning to work.
Work, he thought bitterly, am I not drunk enough to forget that godforsaken place yet?
He downed his drink and turned to observe the club, looking around him to see if it was even worth taking anyone home to his cheap flat for the night, where in all but material things he could forget that he was Owen Harper for just a while.
But there, across the dance floor, a pair of piercing blue eyes were boring into his. He frowned, unable to see any other defining features, his whole attention caught by those smouldering eyes as they beckoned him, dragging him from his stool and toward their owner.
He was drunk enough not to care of the consequences of what lay behind them, of what would face him in the morning, of the fact that it was a-
"You're a man?!"
The man's eyes widened and his eyebrows rose as he looked down at himself in mock horror. "Gosh I appear to have obtained a cock in the nought point five seconds it took you to get over here. Of course I'm a man"
Owen looked into those eyes again and wondered why he'd cared in the first place. They held all the emotions he felt in his heart; frustration, loss, boredom, lust...Another soul drifting like himself...
Just one night, it doesn't make a difference that he's a he....
Leaning forward Owen let his inhibitions drop and let his lips fall slightly open as they met in a clashing of tongues and lips and teeth, falling toward the door of the dull club into the equally dismal night, hoping to perhaps make it worthwhile.
"What's you're name?"
The other man pulled back and bit his lip. "It doesn't matter"
Owen shook his head. "You're right, it doesn't," and with that they stumbled into his flat, clothes leaving a trail on the floor behind them as they reached the bedroom, the place where dozens of nameless and faceless women had succumbed before.
And now, this strange, exotic man was pulling him towards the mattress with a sultry smile and a soft touch that promised so much.
Owen gave into it and fell into every touch, caress, movement and subtle mannerism willingly. With those fiery eyes still burning into his mind, staring into his mind, smashing through his guard and discovering his secrets without a single word having been spoken.
Every second was amazing, from start to finish, tiny lights sparking in his vision as he neared that final hurdle, where they let go completely in unison. Never before had Owen felt so sated, and yet by someone he didn't know the name of, or anything about.
He was close to terrified by those feelings, feelings so strong he had no way to rationalise them...
Of course the next morning he was gone, the side of the seemingly vast bed where he'd lain the night before cold and desolate, with not a single sign of disturbance.
Sprawling across the bed on his back Owen pondered the night before, how an unfathomably ordinary man under any other circumstance had mangled his mind at all, and what excuse he was going to make for being late for work this time.
Or maybe I can just take the day off, say I'm sick or something, he thought, I think it's about time I reassessed my life...
And so Owen stayed where he was, unmoving, simply thinking. Save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, one would be forgiven for thinking he was dead.
Even when his phone rang there wasn't a movement from him, his mind so caught up in the complexities of the human nature, why his life had taken this route, and why on Earth his head hurt so much.
But once more the sun set on another day and Owen Harper was still lying on his bed, still utterly immovable until nature called - as often happens as one is on the brink of a discovery about oneself that never comes.
Pulling on a pair of jeans from a pile on the floor and lifting his phone, he left for work, noting with mild surprise that he had several calls from work, and even more from Toshiko.
Two weeks on the job and they couldn't get enough of him, he thought with an idle smirk.
"What have I missed?"
"Nothing dramatic," Ianto deadpanned over another coffee. "Still can't find him"
Owen shook his head. "Ianto mate, he's been gone six months-"
"That doesn't mean he's not coming back"
"It's not like being his part-time shag will-"
He couldn't finish the sentence as in the blink of an eye Ianto's right hand was wrapped tightly around his throat, his face inches from Owen's. "Don't you fucking start... Let me take you back to a night a couple of years ago now...just like any night in Cardiff really, oh, must have been a couple of weeks after you'd joined. In fact, if the archives and my own memory serve me correctly, it was the night before Toshiko had to fill in for you because you were 'hungover'," he paused, gauging Owen's response, noting with a hint of superiority that his eyes had widened in understanding.
Releasing his grasp Ianto took a step back. "The next time you feel the need to demoralise my relationship with Jack, or anything about me, think back to that night where you took me home, and maybe think about who you're shagging next time so you can recognise them when you start working with them every day of your fucking life. And when you tell someone you'll never forget them, try and remember them when you see them again 'mate'"
Ianto shook his head in disgust as he turned on his heel, stalking from where he'd been to make himself another coffee.
Owen threw himself into a chair and fell into pondering what he'd just heard; cursing his stupidity and realising that subconsciencly he must have known all along, or else he wouldn't have been so cruel to Ianto since he'd begun...
He got up and carefully made his way to the archives, realising how he'd offended Ianto...
But he couldn't do it. He just couldn't apologise, in fact, he could hardly bring himself to acknowledge the night had even happened, because it would mean so much between them would have to change, and he wasn't ready for that to happen.
Instead he brought a bottle of beer with him and set it at the door to the archives, a note safely tucked beneath it...
DUNDUNDUUUUUUN. And so that time has come, the story has ended and now I smile sweetly and ask politely if you would give me another second of your time to let me know what you thought! Any and all feedback is much loved! :D
AUTHOR: naddypants
RATING: 15
SUMMARY: Sometimes people and things just aren't that simple and superficial...
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Special thanks to
just_being_me08 for getting me started on my Ownto love! And for being my wonderful special guest star beta! Also, thanks to Cobra Starship for covering the song I stole the title from. :P
DISCLAIMER: Everything Torchwood belongs to RTD and the big Beeb. Please don't sue me, I'm a student!
Dedicated to the ever-wonderful just_being_me08 whose fault it is that I love Ownto (not that I'm complaining!) and who is an amazing writer in her own right!
I'm close to giving up...the young man thought, pondering what was left of his night into the white Russian he'd just ordered.
He'd been in the club before, just to drown out his thoughts in the pulsing lights, beats and bodies soaked with sweat. Just like any low-rent night club in any faceless city, it was equivocally shit, but it wasn't hard for him to pick up an easy chick to fuck for the rest of the night before returning to work.
Work, he thought bitterly, am I not drunk enough to forget that godforsaken place yet?
He downed his drink and turned to observe the club, looking around him to see if it was even worth taking anyone home to his cheap flat for the night, where in all but material things he could forget that he was Owen Harper for just a while.
But there, across the dance floor, a pair of piercing blue eyes were boring into his. He frowned, unable to see any other defining features, his whole attention caught by those smouldering eyes as they beckoned him, dragging him from his stool and toward their owner.
He was drunk enough not to care of the consequences of what lay behind them, of what would face him in the morning, of the fact that it was a-
"You're a man?!"
The man's eyes widened and his eyebrows rose as he looked down at himself in mock horror. "Gosh I appear to have obtained a cock in the nought point five seconds it took you to get over here. Of course I'm a man"
Owen looked into those eyes again and wondered why he'd cared in the first place. They held all the emotions he felt in his heart; frustration, loss, boredom, lust...Another soul drifting like himself...
Just one night, it doesn't make a difference that he's a he....
Leaning forward Owen let his inhibitions drop and let his lips fall slightly open as they met in a clashing of tongues and lips and teeth, falling toward the door of the dull club into the equally dismal night, hoping to perhaps make it worthwhile.
"What's you're name?"
The other man pulled back and bit his lip. "It doesn't matter"
Owen shook his head. "You're right, it doesn't," and with that they stumbled into his flat, clothes leaving a trail on the floor behind them as they reached the bedroom, the place where dozens of nameless and faceless women had succumbed before.
And now, this strange, exotic man was pulling him towards the mattress with a sultry smile and a soft touch that promised so much.
Owen gave into it and fell into every touch, caress, movement and subtle mannerism willingly. With those fiery eyes still burning into his mind, staring into his mind, smashing through his guard and discovering his secrets without a single word having been spoken.
Every second was amazing, from start to finish, tiny lights sparking in his vision as he neared that final hurdle, where they let go completely in unison. Never before had Owen felt so sated, and yet by someone he didn't know the name of, or anything about.
He was close to terrified by those feelings, feelings so strong he had no way to rationalise them...
Of course the next morning he was gone, the side of the seemingly vast bed where he'd lain the night before cold and desolate, with not a single sign of disturbance.
Sprawling across the bed on his back Owen pondered the night before, how an unfathomably ordinary man under any other circumstance had mangled his mind at all, and what excuse he was going to make for being late for work this time.
Or maybe I can just take the day off, say I'm sick or something, he thought, I think it's about time I reassessed my life...
And so Owen stayed where he was, unmoving, simply thinking. Save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, one would be forgiven for thinking he was dead.
Even when his phone rang there wasn't a movement from him, his mind so caught up in the complexities of the human nature, why his life had taken this route, and why on Earth his head hurt so much.
But once more the sun set on another day and Owen Harper was still lying on his bed, still utterly immovable until nature called - as often happens as one is on the brink of a discovery about oneself that never comes.
Pulling on a pair of jeans from a pile on the floor and lifting his phone, he left for work, noting with mild surprise that he had several calls from work, and even more from Toshiko.
Two weeks on the job and they couldn't get enough of him, he thought with an idle smirk.
"What have I missed?"
"Nothing dramatic," Ianto deadpanned over another coffee. "Still can't find him"
Owen shook his head. "Ianto mate, he's been gone six months-"
"That doesn't mean he's not coming back"
"It's not like being his part-time shag will-"
He couldn't finish the sentence as in the blink of an eye Ianto's right hand was wrapped tightly around his throat, his face inches from Owen's. "Don't you fucking start... Let me take you back to a night a couple of years ago now...just like any night in Cardiff really, oh, must have been a couple of weeks after you'd joined. In fact, if the archives and my own memory serve me correctly, it was the night before Toshiko had to fill in for you because you were 'hungover'," he paused, gauging Owen's response, noting with a hint of superiority that his eyes had widened in understanding.
Releasing his grasp Ianto took a step back. "The next time you feel the need to demoralise my relationship with Jack, or anything about me, think back to that night where you took me home, and maybe think about who you're shagging next time so you can recognise them when you start working with them every day of your fucking life. And when you tell someone you'll never forget them, try and remember them when you see them again 'mate'"
Ianto shook his head in disgust as he turned on his heel, stalking from where he'd been to make himself another coffee.
Owen threw himself into a chair and fell into pondering what he'd just heard; cursing his stupidity and realising that subconsciencly he must have known all along, or else he wouldn't have been so cruel to Ianto since he'd begun...
He got up and carefully made his way to the archives, realising how he'd offended Ianto...
But he couldn't do it. He just couldn't apologise, in fact, he could hardly bring himself to acknowledge the night had even happened, because it would mean so much between them would have to change, and he wasn't ready for that to happen.
Instead he brought a bottle of beer with him and set it at the door to the archives, a note safely tucked beneath it...
DUNDUNDUUUUUUN. And so that time has come, the story has ended and now I smile sweetly and ask politely if you would give me another second of your time to let me know what you thought! Any and all feedback is much loved! :D