FIC - It's Not Too Late - RPS - 2/3
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: FMAO, NC-17
Characters/Pairings: John Barrowman/Gareth David-Lloyd/Scott Gill
Spoilers: None
Warnings: M/M/M, RPS, AU, Non-celebrity partner involvement
Length: Chapter 2 of 3
Summary: This is the follow-up to my first TW RPS story, Trapped In Torchwood. It takes place roughly a month after that one finishes and we get caught up with what the boys have been doing.
Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs to RTD and the BBC, unfortunately. This is a work of fiction and lest we forget Fiction = False, Fake, Not Real (and any of those other handy dandy synonyms found in Webster’s big book.) No offense is meant to any of the parties represented.
Beta: Thanks bunches to shayasar !
A/N1: Sorry this has taken me so long to post, even though this chapter has been done for almost a month now, but as most of you know, I went through some pretty serious stuff in my personal life and the last thing on my mind was fiction. This story is complete, but Chapter Three will not be posted until probably Wednesday night. There is also a sequel already in the works. I thought I was going to be one and done with this series, but I guess not. LOL. Please enjoy. Feedback is always welcome, as is con-crit. Thanks! Oh, and be sure to read A/N2 at the end of the fic. :)
Chapter One
(Gareth’s POV)
“It's not too late for you to join me, Gaz.”
“I've already showered, John. Thank you very much.”
“But you didn't shower with me,” he says pouting, letting his hands slide along the steam covered shower door, clearing away the moisture and giving me a full view of what is behind.
My hands are pulling off my shirt and undoing my jeans before I even realize it.
Oh, the things this man can make me do with just a look. It’s just not fair.
Like you are really complaining, Gareth. True.
Chuckling softly to myself, I hurriedly dispose of the rest of my clothing and open the door to join John in the shower.
He has moved away and is standing under the main spray. Head thrown back, eyes closed, water running in streams down his chest and over his abs straight to his…fuck, it is all I can do to just stand and take in the sight in front of me.
Breathtaking.
A hand is reaching out towards me and I accept it, being pulled towards John and the warm water of the shower in the process.
Smiling, he wraps both arms around me and says, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me for long.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a big…?” Well, I was going to say ego but John chose that exact moment to pulse his hips up to mine. Big all over. Certain parts more than others.
“You were saying?” He asks, moving his hips yet again.
His lips are only inches from mine and I take that as a welcome invitation.
I will never get over the fact that I am allowed to kiss this man. These lips. So full of life and love. So totally in control of this moment now.
Once John is through with my mouth, he moves on to my earlobe, nibbling it before dipping his tongue into my ear. I let out a sound almost like a squeak and am rewarded with a small laugh captured against the flesh of my shoulder before John shifts his focus toward to my chest.
“Mmm…,” I murmur as John teases my nipples with his tongue. I love the way his mouth feels on my flesh as he litters my body with kisses heading towards my favorite destination.
Total ecstasy is achieved when he takes my dick in his mouth, caressing its hardness with his tongue. I snake my fingers through his soft dark hair, urging his every stroke.
Just when I would start to think that John had given me the best blow job of my life, he’d surprise me with an even better one the next time we were together.
And this was one of those times. I marvel at how deep he takes me in his mouth and the perfect rhythm he always finds with me.
Just as I am about to lose myself to the glory of release, John stops his work and then stands up. “I can think of a better place for your cock to be,” he smiles, before he takes my hand in his bringing my fingers to his lips, then into his mouth. With his other hand he begins to slowly stroke along my back, slow and delicate patterns around and over my wet flesh.
Withdrawing my fingers from his mouth, John turns his back to me and braces his arms against the tile wall of the shower. The water spray partially hits his already gleaming body as he pitches back his arse and invites me towards his opening. First one, then two, and finally three slicked fingers slide easily inside.
Once he is sufficiently lubricated, I replace my fingers with my dick, slowly entering him, wanting to remember every bit of this moment. He arches his hips meeting my slow, deliberate cadence.
My lips bite down on the delicate flesh of his shoulder as I gradually increase my strokes. I’ve never marked him before but I feel like now is as good a time as any.
As I bring us closer to coming, little by little our breathing becomes heavier. Sounds echo throughout the shower, the slap of skin meeting skin and a numerous cacophony of moans and groans.
John’s cries become louder. My fingers dig into his hips when he yells out, “Oh, Gareth!”
Hearing him call my name brings me to my own orgasm. “John,” I moan, collapsing on top of him as the power races through me.
********
“Did you talk to Scott today?” I ask, grabbing John’s left hand in mine, while leading him from the street towards the door of the flat.
John looks puzzled as to why I am asking about Scott at this moment, given the fact that he had told me only moments before that he was going to fuck me senseless when we got inside, but he still responds, “Just briefly. He was trying to finish some last minute details before heading to a late meeting with the client to go over what he hoped were the final plans.”
Well that explains why he never responded to my texts from earlier. I knew he was going to be busy today, but I still wanted to let him know I was thinking of him. Am actually surprised he never answered back. Exchanging messages, emails and calls has become pretty commonplace for the two of us over the last month. Nonetheless, if Scott is turning over the final rendition of his design, it means he might be coming up to Cardiff, possibly tomorrow.
And I know how much John is missing Scott. I’m a poor substitute for Scott when John is pining for him like he has been lately. Yeah, yeah, I know. John loves me too. But Scott, I will never be. Certain things will always be set in place between those two. I accepted that when this whole thing started. Still, and always will, acknowledge it.
“Gareth? You still with me?”
“Sorry, was just thinking about Scott coming home to us.” To you.
Sighing, he squeezes my waist with his free hand as I unlock the door, “I wish he could have been here tonight, but I understand. I told him it was alright that he missed out on the party.”
Oh, and what a party it had been. Don’t ever let it be said that Torchwood people don’t know how to party. Because…damn. Even though the atmosphere had been a little downcast when we first got there, knowing we were saying good-bye to a couple of wonderful friends, John was his usual boisterous self around a crowd and it didn’t take long for the mood to shift to one more appropriate for a party.
Didn’t take long for the alcohol to start flowing either. And with the level of alcohol being passed about, the level of inhibitions soon went down the drain. Luckily for me, it’s pretty common for John to be a flirt while at work even when the cameras are not rolling, so having him walk up and snog me in front of everyone wasn’t such a big deal. Then, when Evie and Naoko started doing the same thing, not a single person paid any mind to the amount of kisses, hugs, and hands in awkward places that were being exchanged.
I was leaving it up to John to let our friends know that I was now in a relationship with him and Scott, though. So far John hadn’t really made a point of telling others, so I kept up a low profile. Figured he was letting me get more comfortable with the whole triad thing before he sprung it on everyone else.
At least that is what I keep telling myself. Still not sure how to approach the subject with John, or Scott for that matter. Maybe I’ll find a way once Scott gets up here.
“Unless you plan on me fucking you here in the doorway for all of Cardiff to see, I suggest you get that fine Welsh ass inside the door because I am about to lose all self control and…”
Snapping out of my reverie, I grab John and yank him into the hallway, closing the door behind us with a thud. Yeah, not really in the mood to shock our neighbors at the moment. Plus, lord knows who’s out there with a camera or cell phone, ready and more than willing to post an exploit of us all over YouTube.
“Figured that would get your attention,” he says, stroking the side of my face. “Is everything okay, Gaz? You seem a little distant.”
“It’s nothing,” I tell him back. “Just was a tough night, you know…”
“I’m going to miss them too. Not going to be the same on set without Burn or Naoko.”
Oh.
Good, he thinks I am talking about losing two of our cast members and not the fact that he hasn’t shared with them that he is having a real relationship with me. Hell, I am sure some of them suspect it. He’s not exactly Mr. Discreet at times. But then again, as much as he feels up everyone at times, lord knows.
“Would you stop doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Spacing out on me. You sure know how to dampen a man’s ego.”
“I can still feel your ego pressed firmly to my thigh, I don’t think I have deflated it one bit.”
“Well…um…I guess you have me there.”
“No. Now I have you there,” I smile, planting my hand firmly to John’s crotch, massaging him through the fabric. “Now, if I remember correctly, someone said they were going to be fucking me tonight. I’d love to find that man if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, I think that can be arranged.”
***************
Damn it, John. Stop making that infernal racket. I am trying to sleep over here. Someone is a tad tired from your bountiful enthusiasms of earlier.
Realizing that John was nevertheless out cold next to me, I try to locate the origin of the awful sound coming from somewhere in the bedroom.
As my mind starts to clear, eyes coming into focus, I can see that his cell phone is lit up on the bedside table. And, it is blaring out the noise that woke me up from a damn good dream of myself and Scott doing naughty things to our other companion.
“John,” I say softly while gently pushing on his shoulder and sitting up. Amazed that he is still asleep actually, considering how loud his ringtone is. “John, your mobile is going off.”
A muffled reply, from the pillow below me, is the only response I receive. It sounds a lot like ‘nahmyfone,’ which I am guessing in exhausted John Barrowman speak means, ‘not my phone.’
“I’m not the one with the Doctor Who ringtone. It’s definitely yours.” I’m not that vain. Then again, I’ve never actually been on Doctor Who to begin with…but still, I don’t have a Torchwood one. Not even sure they make one.
“Just leave it, probably a wrong number,” he says, closing the distance I’d put in-between us when I sat up and is eagerly pulling my body down alongside his again. No sooner have I settled back into his embrace and the noise ends. “See, it’s stopped, so just go back to sleep, Gaz.”
John’s breathing is the only sound now, it already growing steadier and deep, a sign he is well on his way back to dreamland. Closing my eyes, I focus on the visions that had been formerly in my head. John pinned to the bed by me and Scott, the two of us taking our turns…
I am really starting to hate that fucking sound. John, once again acts oblivious. Oh, to sleep like that.
“John, answer your damn phone, already,” I grunt at him, pushing him away from me and closer to his side of the bed. Closer to his blaring piece of machinery.
“Fine,” he huffs, rolling over and snatching his mobile from the table. “What?” He blares into it while falling back against his pillow.
Nice tact there, John. Someone’s a little grumpy. I’m sure there are ways I can cheer him up afterwards, though….since we are now both awake. Hopefully this won’t take long.
I cannot hear what the other person is clearly saying, but I can tell it is a female voice.
“Yeah, this is John Barrowman and you better have a hell of a good reason for waking me up at 3am.”
Shit. Did John say it was 3am? A quick glance at the clock on the table confirms the time. No wonder why I still feel exhausted, we’d only gone to bed about an hour ago. Well, we’d gone to bed about three hours ago, but we only went to sleep around an hour ago.
A flurry of responses fly out of John’s mouth and with each one; his voice and body language change significantly.
“Yes I do.” Pitch is an octave higher than normal but still laced with annoyance at being woken up. I can’t see John’s face, but I am sure he has that ‘get to the point’ look plastered on his features.
“That’s right.” John sits up with this comment and I follow him, hand resting on his lower back. I’m not sure what makes me do it, might be the fact that his tone is softening, like he is accepting the fact that he has been woken up in the middle of the night.
There are lots of reasons someone might call at 3am. The last time I got a call at 3am it was from a pissed mate who couldn’t sleep off his binge from the pub. Bet this is something similar considering the Wrap Party we had been at earlier, and if so, John is not going to be happy. Hell, it could just be that someone over in the States fucked up the time change…again.
I am sure it is nothing
“What do you mean?” The irritation is completely gone, replaced by something sounding like confusion. Shoulders are now set, skin taut under my fingertips.
Okay, so maybe it isn’t just nothing.
Leaning in closer to John, trying to hear the caller’s voice, I can only pick up snippets of information but it is enough to make an icy chill fill me from head to toe.
Scott.
Accident.
Central Middlesex Hospital A&E.
A/N2: And before y’all send the lynch mob after me- No, I did not kill off Scott, nor did I severely injure him in any way, shape or form. I love me some angst, but I would never be able to write *that* kind of story. You’ll just have to wait until Chapter Three though to figure out exactly what has happened. You can blame Caz for the evil cliffie, she has taught us well. LOL.
Rating: FMAO, NC-17
Characters/Pairings: John Barrowman/Gareth David-Lloyd/Scott Gill
Spoilers: None
Warnings: M/M/M, RPS, AU, Non-celebrity partner involvement
Length: Chapter 2 of 3
Summary: This is the follow-up to my first TW RPS story, Trapped In Torchwood. It takes place roughly a month after that one finishes and we get caught up with what the boys have been doing.
Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs to RTD and the BBC, unfortunately. This is a work of fiction and lest we forget Fiction = False, Fake, Not Real (and any of those other handy dandy synonyms found in Webster’s big book.) No offense is meant to any of the parties represented.
Beta: Thanks bunches to shayasar !
A/N1: Sorry this has taken me so long to post, even though this chapter has been done for almost a month now, but as most of you know, I went through some pretty serious stuff in my personal life and the last thing on my mind was fiction. This story is complete, but Chapter Three will not be posted until probably Wednesday night. There is also a sequel already in the works. I thought I was going to be one and done with this series, but I guess not. LOL. Please enjoy. Feedback is always welcome, as is con-crit. Thanks! Oh, and be sure to read A/N2 at the end of the fic. :)
Chapter One
(Gareth’s POV)
“It's not too late for you to join me, Gaz.”
“I've already showered, John. Thank you very much.”
“But you didn't shower with me,” he says pouting, letting his hands slide along the steam covered shower door, clearing away the moisture and giving me a full view of what is behind.
My hands are pulling off my shirt and undoing my jeans before I even realize it.
Oh, the things this man can make me do with just a look. It’s just not fair.
Like you are really complaining, Gareth. True.
Chuckling softly to myself, I hurriedly dispose of the rest of my clothing and open the door to join John in the shower.
He has moved away and is standing under the main spray. Head thrown back, eyes closed, water running in streams down his chest and over his abs straight to his…fuck, it is all I can do to just stand and take in the sight in front of me.
Breathtaking.
A hand is reaching out towards me and I accept it, being pulled towards John and the warm water of the shower in the process.
Smiling, he wraps both arms around me and says, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me for long.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a big…?” Well, I was going to say ego but John chose that exact moment to pulse his hips up to mine. Big all over. Certain parts more than others.
“You were saying?” He asks, moving his hips yet again.
His lips are only inches from mine and I take that as a welcome invitation.
I will never get over the fact that I am allowed to kiss this man. These lips. So full of life and love. So totally in control of this moment now.
Once John is through with my mouth, he moves on to my earlobe, nibbling it before dipping his tongue into my ear. I let out a sound almost like a squeak and am rewarded with a small laugh captured against the flesh of my shoulder before John shifts his focus toward to my chest.
“Mmm…,” I murmur as John teases my nipples with his tongue. I love the way his mouth feels on my flesh as he litters my body with kisses heading towards my favorite destination.
Total ecstasy is achieved when he takes my dick in his mouth, caressing its hardness with his tongue. I snake my fingers through his soft dark hair, urging his every stroke.
Just when I would start to think that John had given me the best blow job of my life, he’d surprise me with an even better one the next time we were together.
And this was one of those times. I marvel at how deep he takes me in his mouth and the perfect rhythm he always finds with me.
Just as I am about to lose myself to the glory of release, John stops his work and then stands up. “I can think of a better place for your cock to be,” he smiles, before he takes my hand in his bringing my fingers to his lips, then into his mouth. With his other hand he begins to slowly stroke along my back, slow and delicate patterns around and over my wet flesh.
Withdrawing my fingers from his mouth, John turns his back to me and braces his arms against the tile wall of the shower. The water spray partially hits his already gleaming body as he pitches back his arse and invites me towards his opening. First one, then two, and finally three slicked fingers slide easily inside.
Once he is sufficiently lubricated, I replace my fingers with my dick, slowly entering him, wanting to remember every bit of this moment. He arches his hips meeting my slow, deliberate cadence.
My lips bite down on the delicate flesh of his shoulder as I gradually increase my strokes. I’ve never marked him before but I feel like now is as good a time as any.
As I bring us closer to coming, little by little our breathing becomes heavier. Sounds echo throughout the shower, the slap of skin meeting skin and a numerous cacophony of moans and groans.
John’s cries become louder. My fingers dig into his hips when he yells out, “Oh, Gareth!”
Hearing him call my name brings me to my own orgasm. “John,” I moan, collapsing on top of him as the power races through me.
********
“Did you talk to Scott today?” I ask, grabbing John’s left hand in mine, while leading him from the street towards the door of the flat.
John looks puzzled as to why I am asking about Scott at this moment, given the fact that he had told me only moments before that he was going to fuck me senseless when we got inside, but he still responds, “Just briefly. He was trying to finish some last minute details before heading to a late meeting with the client to go over what he hoped were the final plans.”
Well that explains why he never responded to my texts from earlier. I knew he was going to be busy today, but I still wanted to let him know I was thinking of him. Am actually surprised he never answered back. Exchanging messages, emails and calls has become pretty commonplace for the two of us over the last month. Nonetheless, if Scott is turning over the final rendition of his design, it means he might be coming up to Cardiff, possibly tomorrow.
And I know how much John is missing Scott. I’m a poor substitute for Scott when John is pining for him like he has been lately. Yeah, yeah, I know. John loves me too. But Scott, I will never be. Certain things will always be set in place between those two. I accepted that when this whole thing started. Still, and always will, acknowledge it.
“Gareth? You still with me?”
“Sorry, was just thinking about Scott coming home to us.” To you.
Sighing, he squeezes my waist with his free hand as I unlock the door, “I wish he could have been here tonight, but I understand. I told him it was alright that he missed out on the party.”
Oh, and what a party it had been. Don’t ever let it be said that Torchwood people don’t know how to party. Because…damn. Even though the atmosphere had been a little downcast when we first got there, knowing we were saying good-bye to a couple of wonderful friends, John was his usual boisterous self around a crowd and it didn’t take long for the mood to shift to one more appropriate for a party.
Didn’t take long for the alcohol to start flowing either. And with the level of alcohol being passed about, the level of inhibitions soon went down the drain. Luckily for me, it’s pretty common for John to be a flirt while at work even when the cameras are not rolling, so having him walk up and snog me in front of everyone wasn’t such a big deal. Then, when Evie and Naoko started doing the same thing, not a single person paid any mind to the amount of kisses, hugs, and hands in awkward places that were being exchanged.
I was leaving it up to John to let our friends know that I was now in a relationship with him and Scott, though. So far John hadn’t really made a point of telling others, so I kept up a low profile. Figured he was letting me get more comfortable with the whole triad thing before he sprung it on everyone else.
At least that is what I keep telling myself. Still not sure how to approach the subject with John, or Scott for that matter. Maybe I’ll find a way once Scott gets up here.
“Unless you plan on me fucking you here in the doorway for all of Cardiff to see, I suggest you get that fine Welsh ass inside the door because I am about to lose all self control and…”
Snapping out of my reverie, I grab John and yank him into the hallway, closing the door behind us with a thud. Yeah, not really in the mood to shock our neighbors at the moment. Plus, lord knows who’s out there with a camera or cell phone, ready and more than willing to post an exploit of us all over YouTube.
“Figured that would get your attention,” he says, stroking the side of my face. “Is everything okay, Gaz? You seem a little distant.”
“It’s nothing,” I tell him back. “Just was a tough night, you know…”
“I’m going to miss them too. Not going to be the same on set without Burn or Naoko.”
Oh.
Good, he thinks I am talking about losing two of our cast members and not the fact that he hasn’t shared with them that he is having a real relationship with me. Hell, I am sure some of them suspect it. He’s not exactly Mr. Discreet at times. But then again, as much as he feels up everyone at times, lord knows.
“Would you stop doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Spacing out on me. You sure know how to dampen a man’s ego.”
“I can still feel your ego pressed firmly to my thigh, I don’t think I have deflated it one bit.”
“Well…um…I guess you have me there.”
“No. Now I have you there,” I smile, planting my hand firmly to John’s crotch, massaging him through the fabric. “Now, if I remember correctly, someone said they were going to be fucking me tonight. I’d love to find that man if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, I think that can be arranged.”
***************
Damn it, John. Stop making that infernal racket. I am trying to sleep over here. Someone is a tad tired from your bountiful enthusiasms of earlier.
Realizing that John was nevertheless out cold next to me, I try to locate the origin of the awful sound coming from somewhere in the bedroom.
As my mind starts to clear, eyes coming into focus, I can see that his cell phone is lit up on the bedside table. And, it is blaring out the noise that woke me up from a damn good dream of myself and Scott doing naughty things to our other companion.
“John,” I say softly while gently pushing on his shoulder and sitting up. Amazed that he is still asleep actually, considering how loud his ringtone is. “John, your mobile is going off.”
A muffled reply, from the pillow below me, is the only response I receive. It sounds a lot like ‘nahmyfone,’ which I am guessing in exhausted John Barrowman speak means, ‘not my phone.’
“I’m not the one with the Doctor Who ringtone. It’s definitely yours.” I’m not that vain. Then again, I’ve never actually been on Doctor Who to begin with…but still, I don’t have a Torchwood one. Not even sure they make one.
“Just leave it, probably a wrong number,” he says, closing the distance I’d put in-between us when I sat up and is eagerly pulling my body down alongside his again. No sooner have I settled back into his embrace and the noise ends. “See, it’s stopped, so just go back to sleep, Gaz.”
John’s breathing is the only sound now, it already growing steadier and deep, a sign he is well on his way back to dreamland. Closing my eyes, I focus on the visions that had been formerly in my head. John pinned to the bed by me and Scott, the two of us taking our turns…
I am really starting to hate that fucking sound. John, once again acts oblivious. Oh, to sleep like that.
“John, answer your damn phone, already,” I grunt at him, pushing him away from me and closer to his side of the bed. Closer to his blaring piece of machinery.
“Fine,” he huffs, rolling over and snatching his mobile from the table. “What?” He blares into it while falling back against his pillow.
Nice tact there, John. Someone’s a little grumpy. I’m sure there are ways I can cheer him up afterwards, though….since we are now both awake. Hopefully this won’t take long.
I cannot hear what the other person is clearly saying, but I can tell it is a female voice.
“Yeah, this is John Barrowman and you better have a hell of a good reason for waking me up at 3am.”
Shit. Did John say it was 3am? A quick glance at the clock on the table confirms the time. No wonder why I still feel exhausted, we’d only gone to bed about an hour ago. Well, we’d gone to bed about three hours ago, but we only went to sleep around an hour ago.
A flurry of responses fly out of John’s mouth and with each one; his voice and body language change significantly.
“Yes I do.” Pitch is an octave higher than normal but still laced with annoyance at being woken up. I can’t see John’s face, but I am sure he has that ‘get to the point’ look plastered on his features.
“That’s right.” John sits up with this comment and I follow him, hand resting on his lower back. I’m not sure what makes me do it, might be the fact that his tone is softening, like he is accepting the fact that he has been woken up in the middle of the night.
There are lots of reasons someone might call at 3am. The last time I got a call at 3am it was from a pissed mate who couldn’t sleep off his binge from the pub. Bet this is something similar considering the Wrap Party we had been at earlier, and if so, John is not going to be happy. Hell, it could just be that someone over in the States fucked up the time change…again.
I am sure it is nothing
“What do you mean?” The irritation is completely gone, replaced by something sounding like confusion. Shoulders are now set, skin taut under my fingertips.
Okay, so maybe it isn’t just nothing.
Leaning in closer to John, trying to hear the caller’s voice, I can only pick up snippets of information but it is enough to make an icy chill fill me from head to toe.
Scott.
Accident.
Central Middlesex Hospital A&E.
A/N2: And before y’all send the lynch mob after me- No, I did not kill off Scott, nor did I severely injure him in any way, shape or form. I love me some angst, but I would never be able to write *that* kind of story. You’ll just have to wait until Chapter Three though to figure out exactly what has happened. You can blame Caz for the evil cliffie, she has taught us well. LOL.