[FIC] cold fingers. r. tosh/owen angst. 516 words.
Title: Cold Fingers
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing/Genre: Tosh/Owen angst
Rating: R
Word Count: 516 words.
Summary: It might be complicated, but Tosh can't help the way she feels.
Notes: Written for redshoeson at purimgifts, originally posted here. Betaed by spacetiger, to whom I owe a lot for this story. Also to moonlight69, who helped me realize I really should understand canon before writing.
He's dead.
Tosh knows Owen's dead. She was there when he was shot, could see the way Martha looked as though she might die too, and all but felt the bullet pierce her heart.
But that doesn't change what he does to me.
She's spent the better part of the month trying to decide whether it's better to convince herself that he's dead or he's alive. She still doesn't know.
Doesn't change what he makes me feel.
Owen's fingers still feel the same on her body, and still make her flush deep inside her skin - she can't help it. She can see the look on his face, the way he analyzes the situation, but to get inside of his head would ruin the moment.
He can't feel a thing.
He doesn't know what he's doing at first; he's fumbling and awkward with his touch, fingers too light one moment and too hard the next. It's a jolt, and Tosh can't help but be surprised. Owen has most people convinced he's been with enough women to know his way around anatomy - and maybe he does - but without a sense of touch, Tosh has to guide him through the moment.
What he can't feel, I can show him.
She demonstrates all she can, and arches up into a touch she's guided the whole way. She wants to believe it isn't just her imagining it. She wants Owen to believe it, to know that he's there with her in the realm of the living. She doesn't want him hidden behind Death's veil so that he can't see past the darkness, and can't help but seek out his eyes.
He can't see if his eyes are blank like that.
This means something to Tosh, but it will never be the same for Owen. She knows he can't feel her, or understand what makes her buck and moan - even if he wanted to. Sometimes the realization makes her stop mid-movement. Her breath caught in the back of her throat, Owen's fingers on her, inside of her, and even as her orgasm catches in the back of her throat, she can't help but remember Owen can't feel her as she tenses and shivers beneath him.
He doesn't feel anything.
Gwen told her once, in the privacy of the boardroom, that she shouldn't be bothering with Owen. "He's an immature cynic, Tosh. A dead one, at that. Much as I know you have a thing for the unattainable, I think it's better to just let him go."
He couldn't feel when he was alive, why do I think he can feel now that he's dead?
Everyone thinks they know her. They think that she just likes the things she can't get, that she lets people walk over her, that she's too proud to ask for what she needs. What they don't see is that she always gets what she wants.
He might be dead, but he knows exactly what I want.
The grin on his face says, "It's all right to get what you want." And it feels good.
the end.
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing/Genre: Tosh/Owen angst
Rating: R
Word Count: 516 words.
Summary: It might be complicated, but Tosh can't help the way she feels.
Notes: Written for redshoeson at purimgifts, originally posted here. Betaed by spacetiger, to whom I owe a lot for this story. Also to moonlight69, who helped me realize I really should understand canon before writing.
He's dead.
Tosh knows Owen's dead. She was there when he was shot, could see the way Martha looked as though she might die too, and all but felt the bullet pierce her heart.
But that doesn't change what he does to me.
She's spent the better part of the month trying to decide whether it's better to convince herself that he's dead or he's alive. She still doesn't know.
Doesn't change what he makes me feel.
Owen's fingers still feel the same on her body, and still make her flush deep inside her skin - she can't help it. She can see the look on his face, the way he analyzes the situation, but to get inside of his head would ruin the moment.
He can't feel a thing.
He doesn't know what he's doing at first; he's fumbling and awkward with his touch, fingers too light one moment and too hard the next. It's a jolt, and Tosh can't help but be surprised. Owen has most people convinced he's been with enough women to know his way around anatomy - and maybe he does - but without a sense of touch, Tosh has to guide him through the moment.
What he can't feel, I can show him.
She demonstrates all she can, and arches up into a touch she's guided the whole way. She wants to believe it isn't just her imagining it. She wants Owen to believe it, to know that he's there with her in the realm of the living. She doesn't want him hidden behind Death's veil so that he can't see past the darkness, and can't help but seek out his eyes.
He can't see if his eyes are blank like that.
This means something to Tosh, but it will never be the same for Owen. She knows he can't feel her, or understand what makes her buck and moan - even if he wanted to. Sometimes the realization makes her stop mid-movement. Her breath caught in the back of her throat, Owen's fingers on her, inside of her, and even as her orgasm catches in the back of her throat, she can't help but remember Owen can't feel her as she tenses and shivers beneath him.
He doesn't feel anything.
Gwen told her once, in the privacy of the boardroom, that she shouldn't be bothering with Owen. "He's an immature cynic, Tosh. A dead one, at that. Much as I know you have a thing for the unattainable, I think it's better to just let him go."
He couldn't feel when he was alive, why do I think he can feel now that he's dead?
Everyone thinks they know her. They think that she just likes the things she can't get, that she lets people walk over her, that she's too proud to ask for what she needs. What they don't see is that she always gets what she wants.
He might be dead, but he knows exactly what I want.
The grin on his face says, "It's all right to get what you want." And it feels good.
the end.