Poison Jack/Ianto Ianto/Owen (Music) (1/?)
I want to love you but I better not touch, don’t touch!
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop!
Ianto groaned, rolled over, hit the stereo and buried his face in his pillow once more. 7:59 am was not the right time to be playing Alice Cooper, as much as he loved him. Although his parent’s would probably argue that there was never a good time to be playing Alice Cooper, he thought smugly, as the numbers on his digital clock flicked over to 8 am and his alarm started blaring. Shuffling back up his bed with another groan, he switched off the alarm and stared bleary eyed towards the window, cursing his open curtains and college and everything else that came to mind, not forgetting his hangover. Last time he went drinking on a Sunday night, he told himself grimly. Like that resolve was going to stick for more a week…
Hoisting himself over the side of the bed and almost dropping to the floor when the full force of his pounding headache beat into him, Ianto scuffed his foot through a pile of laundry he’d chucked across the room a couple of days back for something clean to wear and dragged himself out across the hall towards the shower.
The bathroom door just had to be locked, didn’t it? He pounded his fist against it and yelled, “Carl! I need to get ready for college! Get the hell out of there!” Well, who else was going to be in there, honestly? A mumbled replied, muffled by the running water of the shower, came from inside asking for five more minutes. With a sigh, Ianto slid down the wall and waited, playing with his tie, trying to knot it into a noose. Easier said than done, and his mother would go insane if he damaged the silk. Letting out a frustrated growl, he balled up the tie and threw it across the hall, where it hit the floor in a very unsatisfying manner. He narrowed his eyes at the crumbled heap of Armani silk, wishing to burn it up with his eyes, and mumbled to himself, “I fucking hate Mondays…”
I want to kiss you but I want it too much, too much!
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison, yeah…
Oh man, he was not getting up.
“Hey,” came a shout through his door, accompanied by the loudest knock he’d ever heard. “Wake up call! You said eight right, buddy?”
Jack was definitely not getting up. He buried his face deeper into his arm, screwing it up in disgust. Whoever invented early mornings deserved to be shot. Several times over, he thought darkly.
“Jack? You awake?”
Yelling was not appreciated, especially when he was trying to sleep. He hadn’t slept at all last night, for all the bad dreams, damnit. He was not getting up. He was going to sleep if it was the last thing he ever did.
“Jacky-boyyyy,” sang his roommate through the door. “I don’t hear you! I’m coming in, okay?”
No, no, no. He did not need his roommate in here, dragging his sorry ass out of bed. Wasn’t Tiger meant to be at work, anyway? Jack was sure his shift didn’t finish ‘til 10 am. Unless he’d been fired again - that was bad news, because he was hardly raking in the cash for his half of the rent. Either way, he wasn’t getting up.
A large hand shook him hard and pulled his arm away from his face. Squinting in the light, he glared up at Tiger and bared his teeth in a half-hearted attempt to get him to bugger off. It wasn’t working, if he was honest. His friend just looked amused.
“Okay, okay, I’m getting up. Just get the hell out of my room, Carrot-top.” Jack groaned, shifting a little in a vain attempt to convince Tiger that he really was. The other boy groaned at his nickname, running a hand through his ginger hair skeptically.
“Give me one good reason why I should? You’re just going to roll over and go back to sleep, I know you Jack,” Tiger said, all hands-on-hips and authoritative. Oh yeah, back to sleep. Like Jack had the luxury of sleep in the first place.
“Because if you don’t, you’re in front row seats for a full display of my glorious naked body the second I pull back these covers and you haven’t paid. I don’t show myself off to just anyone!” he smirked, bobbing his eyebrows at the redhead, snaking one hand out from under the covers to rest against his friends thigh, “Unless you want to pay up, of course. I’m always up for a little foreplay before breakfast. I bet you could use a good work out…”
Tiger jumped back, putting his hands up in despair. “Okay, leaving now. Good enough reason for me!” He screwed up his face at the implication and backed out through the bedroom door. “Get the hell up, anyway, Joey’s cooking breakfast. And if you’re going to shower, don’t use up all the hot water, Jack; you haven’t chipped in for the water bill in months.”
Throwing up his hands in a haphazard ‘whatever’ Jack waved his roommate out the room and turned over. He was not getting up, not for breakfast, not for college, not for anything. Nothing could break his resolve… Oh god, what was that awful sound? Joey’s music. There was no way he was ever going to get to sleep when Joey was playing Alice Cooper. Before midday. Someone was going to pay for this.
So he was getting up. Jack could hardly say it was the first time he’d broken a resolve.
You’re poison running through my veins,
You’re poison; I don’t wanna break these chains!
A gentle hand shook her awake, and the smell of hot coffee drifted up her nose. Tosh yawned, blinking her eyes in the gentle morning light and glancing to her bedside table, finding her favorite mug, as she did almost every morning, in all its steaming glory. Her mother was hovering in the doorway, smiling at her, her eyes twinkling with an unspoken question. Instead, all the older woman managed was, “Good morning, sleepy-head,”
Tosh peered at her mother and laughed lightly to herself, sitting up and flattening out her hair with her hands. “Thanks for the coffee, mum. I don’t need anything else. I’ll be downstairs in a little while.”
That should have hopefully answered all her questions.
“Okay, Toshiko. I’m making French toast, don’t be too long!”
Sure enough, her mother slipped out of the room and closed the door softly. Tosh rubbed her eyes and reached for the coffee, spilling a little down the side of her pajamas and hissing at the sudden heat. She sipped it quickly, putting it back down and sliding herself out of bed, holding the hot fabric away from her body. That was going to stain, fantastic.
Slowly, she made her way towards the bathroom, wrapped in her robe and clutching a towel and an armful of jeans and jacket. She hadn’t finished that damn paper yet… and it was due on Wednesday. No bother though, she decided, pushing the panic out of her mind. She could get it done when she went over to Suzie’s to help her tonight…
The shower radio wasn’t adjusting. Just her luck, seeing as it was stuck on some rubbish eighties station her mother had been playing. What was the name of this band? Alice Trooper or something; definitely not her sort of music. Give her ballads and Tchaikovsky over this punk nonsense any day…
Poison, oh no, running deep inside my veins,
Burning deep inside my veins, its poison…
Owen slapped his cheeks, massaging in the aftershave and running his hands up his face through his hair. “Hello, Mr. Harper,” He said with a cheeky smirk at the mirror. Looking good, even if he did say so himself. Diane was going to be humping his leg by the end of their date today… he wasn’t going to stop her.
He strolled out of the bathroom butt naked and across the hall to his bedroom. Something told him today was just… going to be a good day. He just had a feeling and, well, Owen based everything he did on gut instincts. It was the only way to live, really.
The only issue now was what to wear. He cranked up the radio as he pulled open his closet, eyeing his tight-fitting, stylish collection and tapping his chin in thought. Diane was definitely more of a traditional girl… but he didn’t feel like going for the whole shirt-and-slacks thing, especially not since he had to be at college all day before he picked her up.
Oh, a good song on the radio. That never happened, Owen thought with a grin. He just had to be right about this day being good. Pulling on a tight pair of boxers, he closed his eyes and sang along. “I hear you calling and its needles and pins,” he roared, banging his head slightly, “I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my naaame!”
Four minutes and several shirts later and he was ready, in a figure-hugging t-shirt and aged navy jeans; a timeless combination. He gave himself another once-over in the mirror with his eyes, and then another, and finally one last glance as he was leaving his room. A good day indeed!
I don’t want to break these chains, poison!
So there we have it. I hope it's not too bad. The rest of the chapters (if anyone actually wants to keep reading) are written a little differently, this is more like a prologue. I just wanted to try something new.
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop!
Ianto groaned, rolled over, hit the stereo and buried his face in his pillow once more. 7:59 am was not the right time to be playing Alice Cooper, as much as he loved him. Although his parent’s would probably argue that there was never a good time to be playing Alice Cooper, he thought smugly, as the numbers on his digital clock flicked over to 8 am and his alarm started blaring. Shuffling back up his bed with another groan, he switched off the alarm and stared bleary eyed towards the window, cursing his open curtains and college and everything else that came to mind, not forgetting his hangover. Last time he went drinking on a Sunday night, he told himself grimly. Like that resolve was going to stick for more a week…
Hoisting himself over the side of the bed and almost dropping to the floor when the full force of his pounding headache beat into him, Ianto scuffed his foot through a pile of laundry he’d chucked across the room a couple of days back for something clean to wear and dragged himself out across the hall towards the shower.
The bathroom door just had to be locked, didn’t it? He pounded his fist against it and yelled, “Carl! I need to get ready for college! Get the hell out of there!” Well, who else was going to be in there, honestly? A mumbled replied, muffled by the running water of the shower, came from inside asking for five more minutes. With a sigh, Ianto slid down the wall and waited, playing with his tie, trying to knot it into a noose. Easier said than done, and his mother would go insane if he damaged the silk. Letting out a frustrated growl, he balled up the tie and threw it across the hall, where it hit the floor in a very unsatisfying manner. He narrowed his eyes at the crumbled heap of Armani silk, wishing to burn it up with his eyes, and mumbled to himself, “I fucking hate Mondays…”
I want to kiss you but I want it too much, too much!
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison, yeah…
Oh man, he was not getting up.
“Hey,” came a shout through his door, accompanied by the loudest knock he’d ever heard. “Wake up call! You said eight right, buddy?”
Jack was definitely not getting up. He buried his face deeper into his arm, screwing it up in disgust. Whoever invented early mornings deserved to be shot. Several times over, he thought darkly.
“Jack? You awake?”
Yelling was not appreciated, especially when he was trying to sleep. He hadn’t slept at all last night, for all the bad dreams, damnit. He was not getting up. He was going to sleep if it was the last thing he ever did.
“Jacky-boyyyy,” sang his roommate through the door. “I don’t hear you! I’m coming in, okay?”
No, no, no. He did not need his roommate in here, dragging his sorry ass out of bed. Wasn’t Tiger meant to be at work, anyway? Jack was sure his shift didn’t finish ‘til 10 am. Unless he’d been fired again - that was bad news, because he was hardly raking in the cash for his half of the rent. Either way, he wasn’t getting up.
A large hand shook him hard and pulled his arm away from his face. Squinting in the light, he glared up at Tiger and bared his teeth in a half-hearted attempt to get him to bugger off. It wasn’t working, if he was honest. His friend just looked amused.
“Okay, okay, I’m getting up. Just get the hell out of my room, Carrot-top.” Jack groaned, shifting a little in a vain attempt to convince Tiger that he really was. The other boy groaned at his nickname, running a hand through his ginger hair skeptically.
“Give me one good reason why I should? You’re just going to roll over and go back to sleep, I know you Jack,” Tiger said, all hands-on-hips and authoritative. Oh yeah, back to sleep. Like Jack had the luxury of sleep in the first place.
“Because if you don’t, you’re in front row seats for a full display of my glorious naked body the second I pull back these covers and you haven’t paid. I don’t show myself off to just anyone!” he smirked, bobbing his eyebrows at the redhead, snaking one hand out from under the covers to rest against his friends thigh, “Unless you want to pay up, of course. I’m always up for a little foreplay before breakfast. I bet you could use a good work out…”
Tiger jumped back, putting his hands up in despair. “Okay, leaving now. Good enough reason for me!” He screwed up his face at the implication and backed out through the bedroom door. “Get the hell up, anyway, Joey’s cooking breakfast. And if you’re going to shower, don’t use up all the hot water, Jack; you haven’t chipped in for the water bill in months.”
Throwing up his hands in a haphazard ‘whatever’ Jack waved his roommate out the room and turned over. He was not getting up, not for breakfast, not for college, not for anything. Nothing could break his resolve… Oh god, what was that awful sound? Joey’s music. There was no way he was ever going to get to sleep when Joey was playing Alice Cooper. Before midday. Someone was going to pay for this.
So he was getting up. Jack could hardly say it was the first time he’d broken a resolve.
You’re poison running through my veins,
You’re poison; I don’t wanna break these chains!
A gentle hand shook her awake, and the smell of hot coffee drifted up her nose. Tosh yawned, blinking her eyes in the gentle morning light and glancing to her bedside table, finding her favorite mug, as she did almost every morning, in all its steaming glory. Her mother was hovering in the doorway, smiling at her, her eyes twinkling with an unspoken question. Instead, all the older woman managed was, “Good morning, sleepy-head,”
Tosh peered at her mother and laughed lightly to herself, sitting up and flattening out her hair with her hands. “Thanks for the coffee, mum. I don’t need anything else. I’ll be downstairs in a little while.”
That should have hopefully answered all her questions.
“Okay, Toshiko. I’m making French toast, don’t be too long!”
Sure enough, her mother slipped out of the room and closed the door softly. Tosh rubbed her eyes and reached for the coffee, spilling a little down the side of her pajamas and hissing at the sudden heat. She sipped it quickly, putting it back down and sliding herself out of bed, holding the hot fabric away from her body. That was going to stain, fantastic.
Slowly, she made her way towards the bathroom, wrapped in her robe and clutching a towel and an armful of jeans and jacket. She hadn’t finished that damn paper yet… and it was due on Wednesday. No bother though, she decided, pushing the panic out of her mind. She could get it done when she went over to Suzie’s to help her tonight…
The shower radio wasn’t adjusting. Just her luck, seeing as it was stuck on some rubbish eighties station her mother had been playing. What was the name of this band? Alice Trooper or something; definitely not her sort of music. Give her ballads and Tchaikovsky over this punk nonsense any day…
Poison, oh no, running deep inside my veins,
Burning deep inside my veins, its poison…
Owen slapped his cheeks, massaging in the aftershave and running his hands up his face through his hair. “Hello, Mr. Harper,” He said with a cheeky smirk at the mirror. Looking good, even if he did say so himself. Diane was going to be humping his leg by the end of their date today… he wasn’t going to stop her.
He strolled out of the bathroom butt naked and across the hall to his bedroom. Something told him today was just… going to be a good day. He just had a feeling and, well, Owen based everything he did on gut instincts. It was the only way to live, really.
The only issue now was what to wear. He cranked up the radio as he pulled open his closet, eyeing his tight-fitting, stylish collection and tapping his chin in thought. Diane was definitely more of a traditional girl… but he didn’t feel like going for the whole shirt-and-slacks thing, especially not since he had to be at college all day before he picked her up.
Oh, a good song on the radio. That never happened, Owen thought with a grin. He just had to be right about this day being good. Pulling on a tight pair of boxers, he closed his eyes and sang along. “I hear you calling and its needles and pins,” he roared, banging his head slightly, “I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my naaame!”
Four minutes and several shirts later and he was ready, in a figure-hugging t-shirt and aged navy jeans; a timeless combination. He gave himself another once-over in the mirror with his eyes, and then another, and finally one last glance as he was leaving his room. A good day indeed!
I don’t want to break these chains, poison!
So there we have it. I hope it's not too bad. The rest of the chapters (if anyone actually wants to keep reading) are written a little differently, this is more like a prologue. I just wanted to try something new.