A/N: Remember me? :)
It has been FAR too long since I was active on here. I have recently started re-reading my own fiction as well as my old favourites and it reminded me just how much I miss writing and how much I miss this community. The fact that there are people out there still reading my stories after all this time blows me away. SO I'm back. And yes, I will be finishing "Snow Day" and hopefully "Moonlight Serenade" too.
This opening chapter stems from a scene I've had in my head for a few days now. It's a scene I'm sure many of you will like.
And, as always, please review.
Owen liked it rough. He always had. He'd always wanted it hard and rough and fast. He wanted teeth and tongues and hands everywhere. He wasn't one for slow and soft and gentle. He wanted to feel something, he often wanted to feel everything, but mostly he wanted to feel anything. His experiences had always been there to find what he had been looking for, what he had needed at that point, and this one was just the same. He needed something, he needed to feel something, he just didn't know what it was he was after when he'd pressed the person hard up against the wall of the Hub, the pair of them lost somewhere in the endless tunnels beneath the base.
Owen's mouth had covered theirs. Lips crushing together, tongues battling for space, for dominance, breathing near impossible as they kissed with such fire and intensity. He had both hands firmly gripped to the other person's waist, pinning them to the wall but also holding them close to him. Leaving them in no doubt precisely where he wanted them. In no doubt just how much he wanted them. Bodies were pushed up against each other, feet struggling for purchase as his trainers sought out a stable footing on the uneven floor. He felt desperate and needy and out of control as he found two hands on him, settling on his face and holding it oh so gently.
He broke contact suddenly, stumbling away and gasping for air as his back hit the opposite wall of the dark tunnel, lit only by the lamps that looked like they'd been fitted way back when the institute formed. He closed his eyes as he steadied himself on the wall, trying desperately to control his breathing, his heart rate, and his body.
"Owen...?" The person spoke suddenly and softly, their own breathing ragged.
Owen shook his head but didn't open his eyes. He pushed himself away from the wall and set off down the tunnel without a glance, his head down as he practically ran, heading hastily back towards the Hub.
Ianto let out a long breath as he watched him go, before tidying up his clothes and following as calmly as he could muster.