One Night Stand
A Torchwood Fic
When Owen Harper opened his eyes, he blinked for just a moment at the sunlight sneaking through the curtains. A few seconds later he remembered…that he couldn't remember a thing about his activities of the previous evening, which meant that a woman was probably lying next to him. It could also potentially mean that he was not in his own bed.
He took a good look around. Smelled his detergent on the sheets. Saw his dirty mags hidden underneath his nightstand. His alarm glaring red numbers telling him that it was much too early to be awake when one had a hangover.
He slowly turned his head, but the bed was empty, except for himself. He sniffed. How dare she leave him like that. Without even saying 'so long'. He laughed. The only thing that really annoyed him was that he now wouldn't get the satisfaction of walking out of her flat, or unceremoniously kicking her out of his.
He sighed. Failing to get back asleep, he rose and proceeded to shower.
The hot water dulled the throbbing ache in his head. And with a sudden whoosh he recalled the previous evening's events.
He had been at the pub. Just like most nights. And Tosh had already headed home. Suzie never accompanied them to the pub. The only one left, was Jack. The pair had moved from a table to the bar, and Owen proceeded to order another round for the both of them.
They had talked. Actually talked. Owen realized that in his intoxicated state, there was no limit to the secrets he had revealed. He had talked about Katie. About how much he still missed her inside. He knew he had probably mentioned the ongoing fling he was currently having with Suzie. And had spilled about his many questions referring to Jack, himself.
The drinks had flowed. By one in the morning, he had been piss drunk. Jack had even, it seemed, had one too many. The two, after being made to leave the pup, wandered around Cardiff, holding each other up, until they had come to Owen's flat. Owen had offered another beer, Jack had drunkenly accepted.
But it was not to be. For the moment they stepped over the threshold, Owen knew it had already been too late. He had made the first move. Pinning Jack against the wall, arms over his head, as he kissed him. Explored the mouth of his fearless leader. Jack's coat on the floor by the door.
Owen's on the couch, Jack on top of him. Shirts thrown aside, buttons landing on the coffee table. Jack's hungry mouth. Owen, letting his hands scope the territory, sweeping slowly across Jack's chest, around to his back. Firm abs and smooth expanse of flesh.
Owen's heart racing in his chest, the throbbing in his groin. The thought that every dirty dream he had ever had about Jack about to come true.
Jack's hand beneath his trousers. Owen gasping as Jack grasped his erection.
Owen reaching for Jack's hand, pulling away.
Pulling towards his bed.
Jack had smiled.
Owen's trousers lost at the bedroom door.
Jack's at the foot of the bed.
The sight of Jack, naked in all his glory. In his shower, Owen shuddered at the memory.
Jack's mouth tracing his trail of hair down, down, removing his underwear.
Jack's mouth upon him. Owen had arched at the touch, hands tangled in Jack's brown hair.
The release. Oh, the most wonderful feeling of ecstasy he had ever experienced. Ever. The things Jack had done with his tongue…
Then, he was in his stomach. Face pressing into the pillow.
Jack spreading his seed upon his fingers and his cock. The alien feeling of Jack's fingers inside of him. And finally…
Jack. Inside of him, balls deep. A pain like fire up his spine. Jack's hands running over his back, grabbing his hips as he thrust.
Jack slamming into him. Ecstasy so intense that time froze. The only thing known was Jack inside him, above him, within him. Hands holding him in place.
Jack's hand wrapping once again around Owen's aching member.
Jack's howl as he came. Blinding flash in front of Owen's eyes as he joined him.
And then the afterwards. Owen fell soundly asleep. Jack…
Jack had left almost immediately, Owen realized. He stepped out of his shower.
Slacks and a tee shirt. He laced his shoes and headed out the door.
What the hell I was thinking, Owen thought to himself.
He had to walk to work, realizing that in his stupor of the previous evening he had left his car parked at the hub.
Tosh had bought him a coffee, which she handed to him after the cog door had closed. Owen raised a hand in greeting to Suzie, who only looked up at him for a moment, smiled slightly, and then returned to her work.
"Owen?"
He looked up. Tosh was speaking to him. He tried to refocus himself. To stop picturing Jack's hands on his chest.
"I finished your paperwork for you." Oh, sweet Tosh. She couldn't be more obvious.
Owen gave her a friendly smile, a quick "Thanks Tosh," and proceeded towards his desk.
She stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"Uh, Owen, you just have to get Jack to sign off on these three so that I file them into the archives." She gave him a stack of papers that he vaguely remembered seeing the day before (and had quickly shoved to a corner of his desk).
"Couldn't you just…" but she was already walking off, shaking her head as she went.
Owen found Jack in his office.
"Owen." Jack kept his greeting short and sweet.
"Jack. Papers for you to sign off on." Quickly, Owen sat them on his desk, and turned to leave.
"Owen?"
He stopped, turned.
"Yes?"
"About last night?"
Owen swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Yeah?"
"We were drunk…"
"Yes we were."
"It's not like, if the circumstances had been different..."
"If we hadn't been drunk?"
"Exactly. It wouldn't have happened." Jack looked a bit uncomfortable.
"Right."
"So we could just right it off as one of those, you know, drunken encounters that are never really spoken of again."
Owen nodded briskly, "Of course."
Jack gave him a smile, "Oh, good." He turned, grabbing his coat off the stand in the corner.
"Where're you going?" Owen asked, as Jack passed him, heading out the door.
"Weevil hunting."
"Need any…help?"
"Nope, I'm covered, thanks."
"Right."
But before Jack had begun descending the metal stairs, he turned.
"For the record Owen?"
Owen looked at him.
"You were one of the greatest shags I've ever had." And then he walked off.
Owen smiled, still picturing Jack's hands, ghosting across his flesh.
Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.