Tangerine: Chapter 7
Title: Tangerine
Chapter: Seven
Words: 1,707
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, OC
Pairings: Ianto/OMC, Jack/Gwen, Eventual!Jack/Ianto
Summary: AU. After Suzy dies again, Jack doesn't go to speak with Ianto.
Rating: M
Warnings: language; sex; violence
Spoilers: Season 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or any of its characters
Chapter 6
Simon entered the flat with a torn heart. He knew he had to obey Dafyd and find out who Ianto was, but he could not bear the thought of any harm coming to the man who showed him such kindness. Ianto greeted him with a warm hug and a light kiss then took him over to the sofa where he had take out waiting. As they ate, they watched the telly, a past-time Simon had little experience with but enjoyed greatly. Ianto was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a loose jumper, but what stood out the most were his eyes that were dark and weary. After finishing his meal, Simon reached out and gently brushed Ianto's cheek.
Leaning into the welcome touch, Ianto nuzzled the boy's hand and closed his eyes wishing away the day's events. The smell of blood and death was something he was unfortunately used to, but the feel of Jack's lips in the perfect moment of love and relief was too much to handle. When he saw Jack lying dead in his arms, he would have given anything to see him alive again. After Jack awoke, Ianto thought that for the first time, his prayers had been answered. Despite everything Gwen told him and knowing Jack was not in love with him, Ianto would always remember that moment as the most romantic in his life.
Turning his head, Ianto placed a kiss to Simon's palm and softly told him, "I'm glad you're here."
"D-did you have a bad day?" Simon asked with obvious concern.
"I thought I'd lost him but then he was suddenly back again. However, it turns out I never had him to begin with," Ianto replied with a deep melancholy making Simon's heart ache. He desperately wished he could take that pain away but had no idea how. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Ianto deeply trying to somehow tell him that he was not alone and someone cared for him. Ianto returned the kiss with affection and thanks as if he knew what Simon was telling him.
As their kissing intensified, Simon drew Ianto in closer and ran his hands along his back. Moving away from his mouth, Simon kissed along his jaw and then down to his neck. Ianto's sweet moans nearly overwhelmed his desire as he began sucking and licking at his neck. He lowered his hands and moved them under Ianto's shirt, and after a few minutes pulled the jumper off completely. Running his tongue over Ianto's muscular chest, Simon sucked at his nipple and bit playfully. Ianto arched his back and slid his fingers through Simon's soft brown hair.
Simon continued to lower his mouth and soon reached Ianto's jeans. With skilled fingers, he unbuttoned the fly and pulled them off before taking Ianto's hard cock into his mouth. As he eagerly sucked, Simon could hear Ianto panting and moaning. His own cock became achingly hard when he heard Ianto breathlessly call out Simon. A couple hours later, Simon relaxed, exhausted in bed with Ianto sleeping, clinging to his chest. Just as he was nodding off, Ianto began to speak in his sleep.
His voice was panicked as he cried, "No, Jack. Don't leave me!"
Simon shushed him and held him close whispering the soothing Welsh words his father would say to him when he had a nightmare. That seemed to calm Ianto and eventually, the two slept together peacefully.
After leaving Ianto's flat in the morning, Simon returned to his own, sitting on his little bed, waiting. When he was upset or scared, he liked to take out his father's old pocket watch and hold it in his hand. His tad died when Simon was five and the watch was the only thing he had left. When his door opened, Simon set the watch aside, swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, and prepared for the worst.
After Dafyd entered, he eagerly clapped his hands together and asked, "So Cariad, what did you find out?"
"I'm not doing it," Simon stated boldly as he stood.
"What?" Dafyd sputtered in complete disbelief.
"Ianto has been wonderful to me and I'm not telling you anything about him."
Dafyd's face darkened as he began to realize that his little Simon was disobeying him. With lightening fast speed, he reached out and grabbed Simon's hair, pulling it roughly. Bringing his face in close, Dafyd commanded with a snarl, "Say that again, whore."
Normally, such a tone and act from Dafyd made Simon concede to anything but an odd sense of purpose filled him as he answered, "I'm . . . not . . . doing it."
As Dafyd shoved Simon to the floor and rained blows upon him, he was shouting angrily, "I gave you everything! You disobey me after knowing this bitch for less than a week? I've given you love, a job, and a roof over your head. Is it because he lets you fuck him? Just because you've stuck your cock in another bloke doesn't make you a man!"
In desperation, Dafyd clasped Simon's cheeks and placed a harsh kiss to his lips. With a sob, Dafyd cried out, "I thought you loved me!"
After spitting out the blood in his mouth, Simon hoarsely answered, "I d-did . . . but that wasn't enough."
With a sudden kick to the groin, Simon knocked Dafyd aside and scrambled out of the flat. Dafyd's angry screams followed him down the hall but Simon could not look back. He flew out the building, winding his way through the streets. Since it appeared that Dafyd had been drinking, Simon was confident he would not catch up to him. Once Simon felt secure enough to stop running, he leaned against a building in a vacant alleyway as he reached up to his nose and groaned: it may be broken. He was also felt frighteningly weak, which he was not sure was because of what happened or because of head trauma.
Although he had never been there, other prostitutes had told him about a clinic that did not ask questions. It was a charity place that prostitutes, drug addicts, and criminals could go without being hassled or filling out paper work. He needed a place he could hang low without worrying about Dafyd finding him. Dafyd may be crazy but he was not stupid; he would not do anything to Simon in public. Still wobbly on his feet, Simon steadied himself and began walking toward the clinic.
"I don't think it's broken, but it's going to be painful and there will be significant bruising. I'll prescribe you a pain killer and an anti-inflammatory. In the meantime, why don't you lie down here and get some rest."
Simon nodded thankfully to the kindly middle aged woman and before she walked away, he asked, "What's your name?"
The woman smiled warmly, "Sister Bernadette. You rest now, Simon."
Curling up, Simon soon fell asleep due to the strong pain medicine he had been given. As he dozed, he smiled to himself; a nun, he had never met a nun before. He wondered if she thought he was a sinner but if she did, it did not show in her face. For that, he was grateful.
When he woke, it was early evening and he sat up wondering what to do with himself. He had all his money with him and had nothing of real value at his flat, but his heart nearly stopped when he remembered he had left his father's watch. Wondering if Dafyd was still there, Simon felt sick about having to face him again. There was the obvious fear of the man but what bothered him was the image of Dafyd's grief stricken face. Despite everything that had happened over the last four years, he still hated seeing his only companion so devastated. In Dafyd's twisted mind, he probably thought he was good to Simon and what had happened probably broke his heart.
However, the need for that watch and what it represented made Simon push down his fear and uncertainty in order to go back one last time. There was no doubt that Dafyd was capable of killing him if angry and drunk enough, but Simon could not leave behind the only thing he treasured. If he died then at least he would die with the watch in his hand just like his father. Steeling himself, Simon left the clinic and returned to his flat. With a dry throat and trembling hands, he opened the door but nearly collapsed at what he saw.
In a pool of his own blood, Dafyd was splayed out motionless. Without thinking, Simon ran over to him and turned his body over to see his throat slit open with three small stab wounds on his chest. The blood and the body were still warm telling Simon that whatever happened had happened recently. Dafyd's eyes were open, staring up at him with a look of anguish and confusion. With a shaking a hand, he reached out and closed the lids then stood, desperately wondering what to do. He knew he should call the police but he could not wait for them or he would be arrested.
Deciding he would leave and call from a payphone, Simon took off his blood soaked clothes and placed them in a plastic bag. He put on a fresh set of clothing and started to leave when he remembered why he had come in the first place. Turning back, he could see it; the watch was clutched in Dafyd's right hand. A scene flashed through his mind of his Tad lying dead on the kitchen floor and Simon having to wrench the watch out of his large, calloused hand. Shaking away the memory, Simon knelt down and gently took the watch before giving Dafyd a goodbye kiss.
Chapter 8
Chapter: Seven
Words: 1,707
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, OC
Pairings: Ianto/OMC, Jack/Gwen, Eventual!Jack/Ianto
Summary: AU. After Suzy dies again, Jack doesn't go to speak with Ianto.
Rating: M
Warnings: language; sex; violence
Spoilers: Season 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or any of its characters
Chapter 6
Simon entered the flat with a torn heart. He knew he had to obey Dafyd and find out who Ianto was, but he could not bear the thought of any harm coming to the man who showed him such kindness. Ianto greeted him with a warm hug and a light kiss then took him over to the sofa where he had take out waiting. As they ate, they watched the telly, a past-time Simon had little experience with but enjoyed greatly. Ianto was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a loose jumper, but what stood out the most were his eyes that were dark and weary. After finishing his meal, Simon reached out and gently brushed Ianto's cheek.
Leaning into the welcome touch, Ianto nuzzled the boy's hand and closed his eyes wishing away the day's events. The smell of blood and death was something he was unfortunately used to, but the feel of Jack's lips in the perfect moment of love and relief was too much to handle. When he saw Jack lying dead in his arms, he would have given anything to see him alive again. After Jack awoke, Ianto thought that for the first time, his prayers had been answered. Despite everything Gwen told him and knowing Jack was not in love with him, Ianto would always remember that moment as the most romantic in his life.
Turning his head, Ianto placed a kiss to Simon's palm and softly told him, "I'm glad you're here."
"D-did you have a bad day?" Simon asked with obvious concern.
"I thought I'd lost him but then he was suddenly back again. However, it turns out I never had him to begin with," Ianto replied with a deep melancholy making Simon's heart ache. He desperately wished he could take that pain away but had no idea how. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Ianto deeply trying to somehow tell him that he was not alone and someone cared for him. Ianto returned the kiss with affection and thanks as if he knew what Simon was telling him.
As their kissing intensified, Simon drew Ianto in closer and ran his hands along his back. Moving away from his mouth, Simon kissed along his jaw and then down to his neck. Ianto's sweet moans nearly overwhelmed his desire as he began sucking and licking at his neck. He lowered his hands and moved them under Ianto's shirt, and after a few minutes pulled the jumper off completely. Running his tongue over Ianto's muscular chest, Simon sucked at his nipple and bit playfully. Ianto arched his back and slid his fingers through Simon's soft brown hair.
Simon continued to lower his mouth and soon reached Ianto's jeans. With skilled fingers, he unbuttoned the fly and pulled them off before taking Ianto's hard cock into his mouth. As he eagerly sucked, Simon could hear Ianto panting and moaning. His own cock became achingly hard when he heard Ianto breathlessly call out Simon. A couple hours later, Simon relaxed, exhausted in bed with Ianto sleeping, clinging to his chest. Just as he was nodding off, Ianto began to speak in his sleep.
His voice was panicked as he cried, "No, Jack. Don't leave me!"
Simon shushed him and held him close whispering the soothing Welsh words his father would say to him when he had a nightmare. That seemed to calm Ianto and eventually, the two slept together peacefully.
After leaving Ianto's flat in the morning, Simon returned to his own, sitting on his little bed, waiting. When he was upset or scared, he liked to take out his father's old pocket watch and hold it in his hand. His tad died when Simon was five and the watch was the only thing he had left. When his door opened, Simon set the watch aside, swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, and prepared for the worst.
After Dafyd entered, he eagerly clapped his hands together and asked, "So Cariad, what did you find out?"
"I'm not doing it," Simon stated boldly as he stood.
"What?" Dafyd sputtered in complete disbelief.
"Ianto has been wonderful to me and I'm not telling you anything about him."
Dafyd's face darkened as he began to realize that his little Simon was disobeying him. With lightening fast speed, he reached out and grabbed Simon's hair, pulling it roughly. Bringing his face in close, Dafyd commanded with a snarl, "Say that again, whore."
Normally, such a tone and act from Dafyd made Simon concede to anything but an odd sense of purpose filled him as he answered, "I'm . . . not . . . doing it."
As Dafyd shoved Simon to the floor and rained blows upon him, he was shouting angrily, "I gave you everything! You disobey me after knowing this bitch for less than a week? I've given you love, a job, and a roof over your head. Is it because he lets you fuck him? Just because you've stuck your cock in another bloke doesn't make you a man!"
In desperation, Dafyd clasped Simon's cheeks and placed a harsh kiss to his lips. With a sob, Dafyd cried out, "I thought you loved me!"
After spitting out the blood in his mouth, Simon hoarsely answered, "I d-did . . . but that wasn't enough."
With a sudden kick to the groin, Simon knocked Dafyd aside and scrambled out of the flat. Dafyd's angry screams followed him down the hall but Simon could not look back. He flew out the building, winding his way through the streets. Since it appeared that Dafyd had been drinking, Simon was confident he would not catch up to him. Once Simon felt secure enough to stop running, he leaned against a building in a vacant alleyway as he reached up to his nose and groaned: it may be broken. He was also felt frighteningly weak, which he was not sure was because of what happened or because of head trauma.
Although he had never been there, other prostitutes had told him about a clinic that did not ask questions. It was a charity place that prostitutes, drug addicts, and criminals could go without being hassled or filling out paper work. He needed a place he could hang low without worrying about Dafyd finding him. Dafyd may be crazy but he was not stupid; he would not do anything to Simon in public. Still wobbly on his feet, Simon steadied himself and began walking toward the clinic.
"I don't think it's broken, but it's going to be painful and there will be significant bruising. I'll prescribe you a pain killer and an anti-inflammatory. In the meantime, why don't you lie down here and get some rest."
Simon nodded thankfully to the kindly middle aged woman and before she walked away, he asked, "What's your name?"
The woman smiled warmly, "Sister Bernadette. You rest now, Simon."
Curling up, Simon soon fell asleep due to the strong pain medicine he had been given. As he dozed, he smiled to himself; a nun, he had never met a nun before. He wondered if she thought he was a sinner but if she did, it did not show in her face. For that, he was grateful.
When he woke, it was early evening and he sat up wondering what to do with himself. He had all his money with him and had nothing of real value at his flat, but his heart nearly stopped when he remembered he had left his father's watch. Wondering if Dafyd was still there, Simon felt sick about having to face him again. There was the obvious fear of the man but what bothered him was the image of Dafyd's grief stricken face. Despite everything that had happened over the last four years, he still hated seeing his only companion so devastated. In Dafyd's twisted mind, he probably thought he was good to Simon and what had happened probably broke his heart.
However, the need for that watch and what it represented made Simon push down his fear and uncertainty in order to go back one last time. There was no doubt that Dafyd was capable of killing him if angry and drunk enough, but Simon could not leave behind the only thing he treasured. If he died then at least he would die with the watch in his hand just like his father. Steeling himself, Simon left the clinic and returned to his flat. With a dry throat and trembling hands, he opened the door but nearly collapsed at what he saw.
In a pool of his own blood, Dafyd was splayed out motionless. Without thinking, Simon ran over to him and turned his body over to see his throat slit open with three small stab wounds on his chest. The blood and the body were still warm telling Simon that whatever happened had happened recently. Dafyd's eyes were open, staring up at him with a look of anguish and confusion. With a shaking a hand, he reached out and closed the lids then stood, desperately wondering what to do. He knew he should call the police but he could not wait for them or he would be arrested.
Deciding he would leave and call from a payphone, Simon took off his blood soaked clothes and placed them in a plastic bag. He put on a fresh set of clothing and started to leave when he remembered why he had come in the first place. Turning back, he could see it; the watch was clutched in Dafyd's right hand. A scene flashed through his mind of his Tad lying dead on the kitchen floor and Simon having to wrench the watch out of his large, calloused hand. Shaking away the memory, Simon knelt down and gently took the watch before giving Dafyd a goodbye kiss.
Chapter 8