Can you see in the dark? Can you see the look on your face? The flashing white light's been turned off. You don't know who's in your bed. It takes more than fucking someone you don't know to keep warm. Do you really think that for a house-beat you'll find your love in a hole?-Keep Yourself Warm by Frightened Rabbit (this song seriously came up out of nowhere while I was writing. Thought it kind of fitting.)
Blurry and cold, Owen forced an eye open. He vaguely recognized his bedroom wall. He felt a warm body pressed up against him. Short black hair in his vision. Owen inhaled, trying to guess who it was based purely on scent. Definitely male, judging from the sharp angles of hip and defined muscles. Owen nuzzled his head closer, nose pressed against the other man's neck. It was a guessing game he made for himself. Ignoring the fuzzy memories of last night, focusing on the blurred details now. It wasn't much fun this morning, though.
That scent was definitely Ianto's. Usually there was coffee and fresh suits, but Owen had gone through pains in the past to figure out what the Ianto really smelled like, underneath all the suits and guarded facades. Owen smiled, wondering how much longer he could lie there in the dark before the Welshman came to his senses. Or until he himself came out of this stupor between sleep and reality. In reality, he would have to face whatever had been done last night. Right here, where he was, Owen could slip back under the blanket of innocence, sleep, and a mild hangover. Owen pushed his head up, careful not to wake the sleeping form beneath him. Both of them were still mostly dressed. Owen wore little besides his jeans; Ianto lay in his undershirt and briefs. So presumably, nothing happened, this was just an innocent sleep between two friends.
He couldn't pinpoint the moment that he had started drifting closer to Ianto. Sure, there'd been suspicion, rejection, names called. But Ianto had ended up trusting him, in some strange fashion. Owen rested an arm on Ianto's stomach, worried at how thin the younger man had become. He was definitely making breakfast again. Owen looked out the window. Still pitch black, some city lights reflected in the view. Owen pressed a kiss to Ianto's cheek, laying his head back down beside the Welshman.
Ianto woke from a nightmare, shaking, breathing hard, shallow. He felt a hand on his waist. He couldn't help but wonder, automatically, if Jack…. No. Owen's concerned eyes looked up at him, worried, grip on Ianto tightening. Ianto struggled, still blinded by the dream's delusions. "Hey." Owen sat up, taking Ianto's hand. "What'd you see?" His eyes never left the Welshman's haunted, pale face. "Jack, someone's hurting him. You and Toshiko, y-you died." Ianto tried to slow his breathing, focusing on Owen's comforting touch.
"Right," Owen dropped his gaze, eyes lingering on the white, perfect leg now resting on top of his. Ianto shifted closer, realizing who's bedroom they were in. "We- we didn't do anything did we?" Owen asked. Ianto shut his eyes, trying to recall. He could remember Owen, getting trashed, leaving a mess in the kitchen. Owen's wandering hands, Ianto's hot mouth on his neck. "Well I gave you a hickey... Maybe you sucked me off." Ianto said softly. Owen swore under his breath. "I know you didn't want us to, ever get like this." Owen pulled his hand away, getting just as close to an apology as he could when he didn't know if he meant it. Ianto reached out, touching Owen's jaw, turning his face, kissing him slowly. He pulled away, eyes closed again. "Don't blame yourself for something I don't regret, Owen."
The morning sun cut into Ianto's sleep, burning his eyelids, destroying his vision. He sat up, realizing there was an indentation in the pillows beside him. Owen's clothes were strewn across the room, Ianto's tie left by the door. Ianto swung his legs out, standing up, searching the room for his discarded clothes. He heard a shower going, could smell food cooking. Ianto picked up his tie and shirt, which thankfully hadn't lost any buttons. His trousers were harder to find. At least, in hindsight, he'd left his jacket hanging on a chair in the kitchen.
Ianto headed to the bathroom, knocking on the door. "C'mon Owen, hurry up in there, Tosh will be expecting us," the door swung open, Owen standing with a towel around his waist. "Care to join me then?"