Torchwood: Tosh/Gwen
Title: Good at Weird
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Toshiko/Gwen
Rating: R
Summary: Gwen and Tosh have to get something out of their systems. They find a strange way of doing it, but strange doesn't necessarily mean bad.
Length: 812
Notes: No beta, and first girl!porn story. First porn story in a year, in fact. Concrit welcome.
Toshiko’s hand sliding down the back of her jeans will be a memory that Gwen never, ever forgets, one that will be as fresh and evocative in her mind in thirty years as it is that night in Jack’s office. There’s no sense, however, of how they got to that point beyond looking for a misfiled document, the warmth of the office, the closeness of their bodies, the shared knowledge that Gwen hadn’t been home to Rhys in days and Toshiko had nobody waiting for her anywhere. Nobody started it, it simply happened. Gwen reaching out for Tosh’s hair at the same instant Tosh grabbed her thigh, their lips meeting an instant later, hearts racing with the knowledge that Jack was so close by, pretending to sleep, and that Ianto probably hadn’t left yet.
Gwen’s back hit the wall, and Tosh dropped to her knees, shoving Gwen’s jeans down and pressing her face against Gwen’s stomach. Gwen felt her lungs heave, desperate for air, and realised she’d been holding her breath; gasped something that Tosh didn’t understand, but the pressure on her head needed no translation. Her hands gripped the back of Gwen’s thighs, her lips seeking warmth, and her tongue began to work along with the rhythm of the hand stroking her hair. But as Gwen’s head fell back, and the heel of her boot scraped against the wall, Toshiko knew she was looking for fast relief. That wouldn’t do. She got to her feet and pushed Gwen towards Jack’s desk, throwing off her jacket and tugging at her belt. Gwen, staring up at her with wide eyes and parted lips, had never looked so vulnerable -
- and for a fleeting instant Tosh was standing over Hannah from college, the popular girl who was patronisingly nice to her face and called her frigid behind her back, but it was nothing, just a random neuron firing off a memory, Gwen wasn’t like that -
- and Toshiko had never felt so in control. The moment broke when Gwen grabbed her and pulled her down, hands grasping as though she couldn’t decide where to touch first, tugging away bits of clothing and pulling her trousers down over the curve of her arse, hands resting there for an instant, over the knickers Tosh had never expected anyone to look at, as their bodies pressed together. Whatever it was Gwen sought after, Tosh didn’t know. Didn’t care, to her own alarm. She took the soft lobe of Gwen’s ear into her mouth, ran her tongue along the edge, as Gwen’s fingers, alarmingly good at this, slid between her legs.
Kissing and biting, Gwen teased a cry out of her, and giggled triumphantly. Jack would hear. Perhaps she wanted Jack to hear - she barely knew herself, but hearing Tosh whimper made her pulse race. She lifted her leg and rubbed her thigh over Toshiko’s hip, rolling down her underwear, and then hooking her leg around her to pull her closer. Tosh kissed her on the lips, then, taking hold of her head, and Gwen automatically deepened it, pushing her tongue against her friend‘s, trying to take command even as Tosh gripped her hair, pressing her back against the desk.
And that was when something shifted in both of them. Nothing would do now except release, hard and fast. Gwen threw her head back as Toshiko moved against her, one hand holding Gwen’s breast so that her thumb rubbed against her nipple through the fabric of her blouse, sending electric sparks through her body from breast to groin. And Toshiko, always the quiet one, was now making a wonderful world of tiny sounds, beautiful sounds that Gwen wished she could listen to forever.
It was Gwen who came first, silently, burying her face in Toshiko’s shoulder to keep from crying out and alerting everyone. Her legs tightening around Tosh’s waist, her throat pulsing, her eyelids falling, and that image was enough to bring Tosh over too, with one sharp little sigh and a squeeze of Gwen’s breast, tugging at her shirt and bucking her hips until the last ripples of pleasure fell away.
They didn’t take a moment to hold one another, but as they dressed, and the shadows in the room seemed to shift into rounder, softer shapes, their eyes met, and they knew. They knew this would never happen again, they knew exactly what it had meant, and they knew that if Jack and Ianto had heard them, nothing would be said, and nobody would ever joke about it.
It was weird, the way they found the file they’d come looking for, and it was weird when Gwen offered Toshiko a spare pair of knickers, and it was really weird when that led onto a conversation about clothes shopping in Cardiff and London. But they were Torchwood women.
They were good at weird.
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Toshiko/Gwen
Rating: R
Summary: Gwen and Tosh have to get something out of their systems. They find a strange way of doing it, but strange doesn't necessarily mean bad.
Length: 812
Notes: No beta, and first girl!porn story. First porn story in a year, in fact. Concrit welcome.
Toshiko’s hand sliding down the back of her jeans will be a memory that Gwen never, ever forgets, one that will be as fresh and evocative in her mind in thirty years as it is that night in Jack’s office. There’s no sense, however, of how they got to that point beyond looking for a misfiled document, the warmth of the office, the closeness of their bodies, the shared knowledge that Gwen hadn’t been home to Rhys in days and Toshiko had nobody waiting for her anywhere. Nobody started it, it simply happened. Gwen reaching out for Tosh’s hair at the same instant Tosh grabbed her thigh, their lips meeting an instant later, hearts racing with the knowledge that Jack was so close by, pretending to sleep, and that Ianto probably hadn’t left yet.
Gwen’s back hit the wall, and Tosh dropped to her knees, shoving Gwen’s jeans down and pressing her face against Gwen’s stomach. Gwen felt her lungs heave, desperate for air, and realised she’d been holding her breath; gasped something that Tosh didn’t understand, but the pressure on her head needed no translation. Her hands gripped the back of Gwen’s thighs, her lips seeking warmth, and her tongue began to work along with the rhythm of the hand stroking her hair. But as Gwen’s head fell back, and the heel of her boot scraped against the wall, Toshiko knew she was looking for fast relief. That wouldn’t do. She got to her feet and pushed Gwen towards Jack’s desk, throwing off her jacket and tugging at her belt. Gwen, staring up at her with wide eyes and parted lips, had never looked so vulnerable -
- and for a fleeting instant Tosh was standing over Hannah from college, the popular girl who was patronisingly nice to her face and called her frigid behind her back, but it was nothing, just a random neuron firing off a memory, Gwen wasn’t like that -
- and Toshiko had never felt so in control. The moment broke when Gwen grabbed her and pulled her down, hands grasping as though she couldn’t decide where to touch first, tugging away bits of clothing and pulling her trousers down over the curve of her arse, hands resting there for an instant, over the knickers Tosh had never expected anyone to look at, as their bodies pressed together. Whatever it was Gwen sought after, Tosh didn’t know. Didn’t care, to her own alarm. She took the soft lobe of Gwen’s ear into her mouth, ran her tongue along the edge, as Gwen’s fingers, alarmingly good at this, slid between her legs.
Kissing and biting, Gwen teased a cry out of her, and giggled triumphantly. Jack would hear. Perhaps she wanted Jack to hear - she barely knew herself, but hearing Tosh whimper made her pulse race. She lifted her leg and rubbed her thigh over Toshiko’s hip, rolling down her underwear, and then hooking her leg around her to pull her closer. Tosh kissed her on the lips, then, taking hold of her head, and Gwen automatically deepened it, pushing her tongue against her friend‘s, trying to take command even as Tosh gripped her hair, pressing her back against the desk.
And that was when something shifted in both of them. Nothing would do now except release, hard and fast. Gwen threw her head back as Toshiko moved against her, one hand holding Gwen’s breast so that her thumb rubbed against her nipple through the fabric of her blouse, sending electric sparks through her body from breast to groin. And Toshiko, always the quiet one, was now making a wonderful world of tiny sounds, beautiful sounds that Gwen wished she could listen to forever.
It was Gwen who came first, silently, burying her face in Toshiko’s shoulder to keep from crying out and alerting everyone. Her legs tightening around Tosh’s waist, her throat pulsing, her eyelids falling, and that image was enough to bring Tosh over too, with one sharp little sigh and a squeeze of Gwen’s breast, tugging at her shirt and bucking her hips until the last ripples of pleasure fell away.
They didn’t take a moment to hold one another, but as they dressed, and the shadows in the room seemed to shift into rounder, softer shapes, their eyes met, and they knew. They knew this would never happen again, they knew exactly what it had meant, and they knew that if Jack and Ianto had heard them, nothing would be said, and nobody would ever joke about it.
It was weird, the way they found the file they’d come looking for, and it was weird when Gwen offered Toshiko a spare pair of knickers, and it was really weird when that led onto a conversation about clothes shopping in Cardiff and London. But they were Torchwood women.
They were good at weird.