51stcenturyfox (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
51stcenturyfox) wrote2009-10-31 03:58 pm
51stcenturyfox) wrote2009-10-31 03:58 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: "Morning Wood" Ianto/Owen (R)
Title: Morning Wood
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters or Pairing: Ianto/Owen, team
Rating: R
Word count: 1,035
Summary: Owen has "a thing".
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
karaokegal 's "Come As You're Not" fanfic Halloween party. Takes place somewhere before the end of S1.
Why it's a costume: I think everybody on Torchwood has had sex with each other on my ficlist except Ianto and Owen. I find Owen tough to write, so thought I'd give it a try today. Also, there's a Halloween monster! :D
"Oh God. We're going to be fucking trapped all day," Owen groaned.
"Shhh," Ianto whispered, chiding. "Quiet!" They were pressed together between and beneath staggered stacks of wooden pallets in a balloon warehouse as a shapeshifter prowled the premises. An extremely pissed-off shapeshifter with a sword. Unfortunately, she'd managed to knock Ianto's stun gun out of his hand and Owen had answered his call for backup on the way back from an early appointment at the barber's. His gun, he'd explained as they tried the locked doors and struggled to inch their way under the pile to hide, was still inside his desk drawer at the Hub.
"Way to plan, Owen," Ianto hissed.
"Screw you. Where'd she get a sword?"
"Like I would know?"
"Jesus."
"Just. We'll wait until she gives up and leaves," Ianto reasoned quietly.
"Why didn't Jack answer his comm?"
"I don't know, I'm not his keeper."
"Oh, that's right, he's yours," Owen snarked back.
"Shut it, Owen," Ianto hissed. "The team knows where I was tracking her." The pallets smelled musty, there was dust in his nose and, he was sure, all over his freshly-dry-cleaned suit. He was really not amused.
"Well, they'd better hurry up before she turns us into mince."
Owen shifted to stretch his cramped legs and one of the pallets shifted and issued a loud squeak of wood against wood. They heard a growl nearby and Ianto clenched his teeth to bite back another insult for Owen. The shapeshifter's footsteps retreated on the concrete and he tried to relax, but being UNDER Owen wasn't exactly comfortable. Owen wasn't heavy, but the sharp bone of his hip was pressing directly against his-
"Is your mobile ringer off?" Owen whispered. "Gwen and I had an unfortunate incident in a morgue drawer..."
Loud noises came from their right. The shapeshifter was narrowing down her search for them, and they heard the sword whacking hard against the pallets. Owen stopped talking then, because Ianto's hand was pressed over his mouth. Ianto could feel Owen's breath, warm against his fingers, and then something else, as Owen twisted again. That... wasn't his hip bone.
"Mmmpfh," Owen managed. Ianto felt fingers snake down into his right trouser pocket where his mobile phone was stowed and reach for it. Owen fumbled at the device and then pulled his hand out with difficulty. Ianto could feel the hand shift to the front of his trousers, between them, and flex around him.
"What are you-" he murmured, and then stopped. Because Owen was licking his fingers and sliding one of his hands along his stomach and under his belt. He felt fumbling in front of him and felt Owen's fingers and then something else. Owen was... he was pressing against him at the same time he awkwardly stroked at the tip of Ianto's cock. Ianto tried to move but his own free hand was stuck between Owen's arse and the wooden layers piled above so he did the only thing he could with it: he gave Owen's behind a little... squeeze.
If they were going to die in a warehouse at the hands of a stabby alien, Ianto figured, they might as well make the most of their final moments. He slid his hand down from Owen's mouth and edged it slowly downward to his stomach. He couldn't unzip Owen's fly -- there was no room to manoeuvre -- so slid his hand into the front of his jeans and gripped. Owen shifted and stifled a moan, then pressed his lips to Ianto's.
Ianto was surprised to discover that Owen was actually a really good kisser. Maybe he should have guessed, since Owen always had a pen in his mouth. Oral fixation, probably. He kissed the doctor back and pushed forward into his hand as Owen stroked him harder. He twisted his own fingers to return the favour more effectively and he could tell from the insistent way Owen was moving his tongue... and from the pulse he could feel beneath his palm, they were both equally into this. As he focused on the sensations, he practically forgot where they were and how much danger they were in, and he sensed that Owen, moving with urgency and kissing him fervently, had too.
So when they heard four deafening shots nearby and an unearthy scream, both froze.
"I heard something in there," came a woman's muffled voice, and then a loud clunk -- maybe a kick against the precarious stack -- and the clatter of pallets as the whole mess toppled over
"Oh holy shit," Tosh said. She lifted her gun to the ceiling, aiming it away from the tangled bodies in front of her.
Ianto blinked at the sight of Gwen's boots and looked up. Both of her hands, spattered with dark shapeshifter goo, were pressed hard against her mouth. Then he looked down. His own hand was trapped inside the front of Owen's jeans and Owen's was wrapped under Ianto's belt and sort of sticking out along with...
"Um. We can explain this," he said. But they really couldn't, not over the sounds of Tosh and Gwen's shrieks of laughter.
*
"You have a thing for enclosed spaces, don't you?" Gwen whispered at Owen as they walked towards the SUV. She shook her gooey hair with disgust.
Owen coloured. "Sort of."
"Yeah, I noticed that. What's next? There's a tree over there, if you want to throw him up against-"
Before Owen could reply, Tosh and Ianto caught up with them and Tosh clapped him and Ianto both hard on the shoulders. "And I need help painting my kitchen this weekend. That is, if you don't want me to a, mention this to Jack, and b, tease you both for the rest of your lives."
Ianto groaned. "I hate painting!"
"The laugh was enough for me, but you drive a hard bargain. Just don't let them do the broom closet, Tosh," Gwen warned, snickering, as she stepped up into the back seat of the SUV. "At least, not together."
"Do I even want to know?" Jack asked, catching her eye in the rear-view mirror.
"No!" Ianto and Owen said, in unison.
"I'll need my car waxed too," Tosh pointed out, as Jack pulled the vehicle out of the lot.
ETA: This story is loosely inspired by an X-Files fic in which Scully is trapped with... I think it was Skinner but it might have been Mulder. It was hot and not LOLworthy, and if you can help me find it, I'll paint your kitchen.
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters or Pairing: Ianto/Owen, team
Rating: R
Word count: 1,035
Summary: Owen has "a thing".
Notes: For
karaokegal 's "Come As You're Not" fanfic Halloween party. Takes place somewhere before the end of S1. Why it's a costume: I think everybody on Torchwood has had sex with each other on my ficlist except Ianto and Owen. I find Owen tough to write, so thought I'd give it a try today. Also, there's a Halloween monster! :D
"Oh God. We're going to be fucking trapped all day," Owen groaned.
"Shhh," Ianto whispered, chiding. "Quiet!" They were pressed together between and beneath staggered stacks of wooden pallets in a balloon warehouse as a shapeshifter prowled the premises. An extremely pissed-off shapeshifter with a sword. Unfortunately, she'd managed to knock Ianto's stun gun out of his hand and Owen had answered his call for backup on the way back from an early appointment at the barber's. His gun, he'd explained as they tried the locked doors and struggled to inch their way under the pile to hide, was still inside his desk drawer at the Hub.
"Way to plan, Owen," Ianto hissed.
"Screw you. Where'd she get a sword?"
"Like I would know?"
"Jesus."
"Just. We'll wait until she gives up and leaves," Ianto reasoned quietly.
"Why didn't Jack answer his comm?"
"I don't know, I'm not his keeper."
"Oh, that's right, he's yours," Owen snarked back.
"Shut it, Owen," Ianto hissed. "The team knows where I was tracking her." The pallets smelled musty, there was dust in his nose and, he was sure, all over his freshly-dry-cleaned suit. He was really not amused.
"Well, they'd better hurry up before she turns us into mince."
Owen shifted to stretch his cramped legs and one of the pallets shifted and issued a loud squeak of wood against wood. They heard a growl nearby and Ianto clenched his teeth to bite back another insult for Owen. The shapeshifter's footsteps retreated on the concrete and he tried to relax, but being UNDER Owen wasn't exactly comfortable. Owen wasn't heavy, but the sharp bone of his hip was pressing directly against his-
"Is your mobile ringer off?" Owen whispered. "Gwen and I had an unfortunate incident in a morgue drawer..."
Loud noises came from their right. The shapeshifter was narrowing down her search for them, and they heard the sword whacking hard against the pallets. Owen stopped talking then, because Ianto's hand was pressed over his mouth. Ianto could feel Owen's breath, warm against his fingers, and then something else, as Owen twisted again. That... wasn't his hip bone.
"Mmmpfh," Owen managed. Ianto felt fingers snake down into his right trouser pocket where his mobile phone was stowed and reach for it. Owen fumbled at the device and then pulled his hand out with difficulty. Ianto could feel the hand shift to the front of his trousers, between them, and flex around him.
"What are you-" he murmured, and then stopped. Because Owen was licking his fingers and sliding one of his hands along his stomach and under his belt. He felt fumbling in front of him and felt Owen's fingers and then something else. Owen was... he was pressing against him at the same time he awkwardly stroked at the tip of Ianto's cock. Ianto tried to move but his own free hand was stuck between Owen's arse and the wooden layers piled above so he did the only thing he could with it: he gave Owen's behind a little... squeeze.
If they were going to die in a warehouse at the hands of a stabby alien, Ianto figured, they might as well make the most of their final moments. He slid his hand down from Owen's mouth and edged it slowly downward to his stomach. He couldn't unzip Owen's fly -- there was no room to manoeuvre -- so slid his hand into the front of his jeans and gripped. Owen shifted and stifled a moan, then pressed his lips to Ianto's.
Ianto was surprised to discover that Owen was actually a really good kisser. Maybe he should have guessed, since Owen always had a pen in his mouth. Oral fixation, probably. He kissed the doctor back and pushed forward into his hand as Owen stroked him harder. He twisted his own fingers to return the favour more effectively and he could tell from the insistent way Owen was moving his tongue... and from the pulse he could feel beneath his palm, they were both equally into this. As he focused on the sensations, he practically forgot where they were and how much danger they were in, and he sensed that Owen, moving with urgency and kissing him fervently, had too.
So when they heard four deafening shots nearby and an unearthy scream, both froze.
"I heard something in there," came a woman's muffled voice, and then a loud clunk -- maybe a kick against the precarious stack -- and the clatter of pallets as the whole mess toppled over
"Oh holy shit," Tosh said. She lifted her gun to the ceiling, aiming it away from the tangled bodies in front of her.
Ianto blinked at the sight of Gwen's boots and looked up. Both of her hands, spattered with dark shapeshifter goo, were pressed hard against her mouth. Then he looked down. His own hand was trapped inside the front of Owen's jeans and Owen's was wrapped under Ianto's belt and sort of sticking out along with...
"Um. We can explain this," he said. But they really couldn't, not over the sounds of Tosh and Gwen's shrieks of laughter.
*
"You have a thing for enclosed spaces, don't you?" Gwen whispered at Owen as they walked towards the SUV. She shook her gooey hair with disgust.
Owen coloured. "Sort of."
"Yeah, I noticed that. What's next? There's a tree over there, if you want to throw him up against-"
Before Owen could reply, Tosh and Ianto caught up with them and Tosh clapped him and Ianto both hard on the shoulders. "And I need help painting my kitchen this weekend. That is, if you don't want me to a, mention this to Jack, and b, tease you both for the rest of your lives."
Ianto groaned. "I hate painting!"
"The laugh was enough for me, but you drive a hard bargain. Just don't let them do the broom closet, Tosh," Gwen warned, snickering, as she stepped up into the back seat of the SUV. "At least, not together."
"Do I even want to know?" Jack asked, catching her eye in the rear-view mirror.
"No!" Ianto and Owen said, in unison.
"I'll need my car waxed too," Tosh pointed out, as Jack pulled the vehicle out of the lot.
ETA: This story is loosely inspired by an X-Files fic in which Scully is trapped with... I think it was Skinner but it might have been Mulder. It was hot and not LOLworthy, and if you can help me find it, I'll paint your kitchen.