Look What You've Done To Me (3/?) [Series: I Kissed A Boy]
TITLE: Look What You've Done To Me...
AUTHOR: naddypants
RATING: 15
CHARACTERS: Owen/Ianto, mentions of Jack and Jack/Ianto
SUMMARY: Ianto's subsequent moping and the confrontation with Owen.
WARNINGS: There's sexual references if you squint. Other than that, there's sexual tension. That's about the height of it thus far.
A/N: Well, the first half of this came to me pretty easily, but the second half was literally hell to write. Having a bad weekend didn't really help that either. Anyway, this chapter is done, and I hope it goes down (reasonably) well. Special thanks to the wonderful
just_being_me08 for being her usual wonderful self and betaing this for me and keeping my confidence up.
DISCLAIMER: I own the action figures, 'cause I'm cool like that. The actual series etc, belongs to RTD and the big ole Beeb. I can't afford to be sued.
Part 1: ( I kissed a boy and he liked it. )
Part 2: ( Do you remember? Well I remember... )
Special dedi for the brilliant just_being_me08 for stepping in when I need her and being so supportive and lovely, as always. :) Thank you sweetie!
Life can be compared to a coffee bean; simple enough on the surface, just a husk, the seed from a fruit: until you move further along it's path to creating the perfect beverage, finding that each one is utterly unique, not only in shape, but in flavour, from the soft and delicate flavour of the light roast, to the strong and bitter taste of the Columbian dark roast that Ianto favoured more recently.
Of course, even with all this, as Ianto pondered from behind his desk once more - his thoughts of facing Owen leading to a fluctuation in emotions he just wasn't prepared for.
For this very reason, Ianto was thinking about coffee - as he often does - and trying to draw parallels in his life; trying to simplify everything into easily understandable and logical pieces.
Thus far, it hadn't been working. He'd been trying to rationalise his emotions towards the wayward doctor, but he knew there was no rational explanation for them.
Glancing to the clock Ianto realised it was well into the night. Everyone must have been home by now and yet he couldn't bring himself to move. Owen's note had left him with a lot to consider, and now the thought that Owen had remained in the hub was causing him great anxiety.
Not much later, when weariness could no longer be ignored for fear of drifting into another horrible night's sleep plagued with nightmares, Ianto made his way to the main area of the hub, noting with concern how messy the small kitchenette where his coffee machine was situated was getting. Frowning he moved over and fixed himself a coffee quickly, his typically laborious preparation technique made brief as the taste began to lose meaning to him.
Like everything, once Jack had gone, his care over his coffee and many other things had started to become lax. The other's hadn't noticed, but he knew they wouldn't. His care over beans and temperatures wavered and now he could hardly remember what a good coffee tasted like, but all he needed was the caffine kick and the bitter taste to remind him that he was still there; still alive.
Once more, he'd spend his night in Jack's quarter's, hiding there until the other's arrived in the morning, where they'd find him cleaning Jack's office of every speck of dust that they all knew wasn't there.
Some nights he'd just curl around Jack's coat, allowing the scent to comfort him to sleep, but after six months, it had lost it's effect, the soft perfume replaced by his own. On other nights he perched on the chair in the corner of the room, his head resting on his curled-up knees as he tried to ward off sleep once more; sitting there, eyes wide, staring into the emptiness of the once warm bed, and hoping that something would come to take him away - release him from the guilt he was feeling in the pit of his stomach.
And nonetheless, as Ianto curled onto the small cot, he realised that he wouldn't sleep. He still hadn't faced Owen, and he still hadn't thought about what he was going to say. In the six months without Jack, he should have gotten over him, moved on, and yet, somehow Jack was everywhere, like a rope around his heart, pulling him heavily to a place where he wasn't granted a chance to forget: because it was his duty to remain there.
But he longed for Owen, the simple animalistic nature of any relationship they could have making his heart race and his head pound...
He knew it shouldn't happen, he shouldn't let it happen. What if Jack came back? He was positive he'd be back at Jack's side without a second's thought, and what if Owen wanted more? Or what if Owen was simply playing him for his own amusement?
And yet again Ianto's mind ran in circles of endless possibilities, each more confused and extreme than the last; his emotions a whirlwind of the unknown as he lay listening to the world above him pass by, hoping that Owen was across down doing something similar, but doubting it.
After several hours of lying staring into space, sleep still avoiding him; the whoosh and mechanical turning over of the invisible lift prompted Ianto to move quickly. Sneaking through a short passage from Jack's room to the main Hub - so it looked like he'd appeared from the archives - he glanced up to watch Owen sail down with his back towards him. Frowning Ianto turned and paced silently away, hoping desperately that Owen didn't know he was there as he turned down a side corridor that would lead him to the tourist office and in the direction of his flat.
As Owen searched high and low for Ianto, hoping in desperation that he was still there, he began to ponder what he was going to say when he eventually found the younger man. There were so many things he wanted to say but couldn't, either because he was too stubborn, or he knew it would offend the other man.
Of course there were other feelings that he had no words for, no logical explanation for. In fact, all he'd come up with thus far was a very disappointing "I'm sorry" and in the hours it took him to wander the hub aimlessly, he still had nothing better.
Upon reaching the cells, a last resort for Owen now, he peered into each of them individually, doubting Ianto was there until he reached the last one and glanced in. Not hours before it had been empty - Owen was sure of that. But there before him was a curled up shape in the deep shadows of the cell. Frowning Owen looked closer and tried to distinguish the shape, before opening the door and stepping in. In the back of his head, he knew it was Ianto, but there was a part of him that was suspicious...
A sudden movement caused Owen to leap back in terror and instinctually reach for his gun as Ianto's face appeared in the lamplight, looking tired and strained, light damp patches shining beneath his darkened eyes. It took Ianto sniffing loudly for Owen to snap back to the reality of the situation and stop staring into the face as a doctor he should have known was bordering on exhaustion.
"...Ianto, mate"
"What?" He snapped, still wavering in the shadows.
"I don't know. You tell me"
"What do you want me to say?"
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. Just tell me...why the vaults?" Owen replied, confused, and leaned against the door to the cell, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
Ianto shook his head. "I'm not even sure. When I saw you coming down on the lift I turned and sneaked off in what my mind was telling me was the direction of the tourist office and then home, but as my luck takes me, I ended up wandering around the hub aimlessly until I ended up here..." He trailed off before taking a deep breath and trying to begin again. "I just don't know anymore. Everything is so confusing and it took that note to throw it all into the spotlight..."
Owen stayed where he was and watched the man before him slowly come apart not sure of what to do.
As much as he wanted to comfort him, he was terrified of what he was feeling, his body forcing him to the spot where he was unable to move or say anything until Ianto looked back at him with tear-stained eyes and the corners of his mouth turned down again before he stormed out, Owen suddenly realising that he was so caught up in his thoughts that he'd been ignoring Ianto.
"Ianto wait," he tried.
Stopping at the door Ianto turned his head slightly, his back still to Owen as his voice wavered. "Why should I? I was pouring my heart out to you and you weren't even listening. Do you just do this for your own amusement, because I'm really sick of it. I'm tired of being walked all over emotionally. I'm tired of waiting..."
And with that he disappeared. Owen began to follow and caught himself abruptly at the door. If he followed Ianto now he knew it would only anger him further, and moreover, he had nothing to say that wasn't a forced cliche, and so he decided it could wait until the morning, when they were both more relaxed, at least so he hoped...
Upstairs, Ianto was trying to rationalise his life through coffee beans again, before realising how ridiculous that really was and throwing a handful of them at the wall, watching them cascade to the floor. Realising the mess he'd made he scurried to clean them up, his mind skipping back to Owen before he could stop it...
But now he knew Owen didn't really care, it was hardly worth it anymore, everyone just seemed to use him then piss off anyway...
Someone once told Ianto it was better to have loved than to have lost, but to be honest he was beginning to think none of it was worth anything...
Okay, so as I mentioned earlier in the A/N, I had a bit of a time of it. Anyway, I hope this chapter was good ! I really do! Anyway, I really love comments; they're what keep me tapping away! Loved, hated, not really bothered? Let me know anyway. Thanks. :)