Of course, they could've just told him face to face. Just casually let it slip that they were fucking each other. But no. Typical that they'd forget Jack lived in the Hub, 24/7.

Owen was on his knees. Ianto was leaning back against the brick wall, breath coming in gasps, muffled groans echoing through the hallway. "Fuck, Owen." Ianto hissed, hips bucking. His fingers grabbed at Owen's hair, trying to get a good grip, pulling him in closer, smiling as he heard Owen choke. They were way past any worry of gag reflex, but Owen was struggling to breathe. Ianto sighed, getting even harder when Owen looked up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes, lips closing over Ianto's length, swallowing him deeper. And his tongue… Ianto tilted his head back, hissing his words through clenched teeth, fingers clenching on Owen's short hair.

Jack had heard the noises. Part of him knew what was going on. He kept telling himself he was just worried. He'd sent the girls home hours ago, and assumed Owen had left as well. But now, walking deeper into the Hub, the sounds getting louder…. And then that unmistakable, beautiful Welsh voice, shouting Owen's name.

He turned into the hallway just in time to see Ianto thrust into Owen's mouth, hard, one last time, the smaller man swallowing his seed. The look on Ianto's face was fucking sacred. His lips were open, eyes glazed over, fingers clutching Owen's head. Jack cleared his throat.

Owen pulled away, giving Ianto one last lick, before pulling the Welshman's pants up, turning to face Jack. He placed himself between the two. Jack saw a dab of white on the edge of Owen's lips. The Londoner reached up, wiping it off on his hand. Ianto was still leaning against the wall, recovering. He didn't acknowledge Jack, if he even realized he was there.

"Jack." Owen eyed up the immortal, adjusting his dirty, rumpled shirt. "You need something?" He asked. Jack looked past him, watching Ianto come out of his haze, turning to face him.

"When you said you were doing someone, you didn't say it was Owen fucking Harper." Jack said. Ianto cocked his head to the side, neck popping. "Not really your business who I screw." He said, nonchalantly. Jack stared.

"Do you mind, we were sort of in the middle of something." Owen drawled. He was still hard. Jack could see, from the way he stood, the way his jeans were suddenly too tight, his eyes a little brighter than normal. "Actually, I do mind. This is a workplace. Since you two can't keep the volume down enough for me to fucking hear myself think, I'm going to ask you to leave." Jack ordered.

"Bullshit." Ianto growled. "Yeah, since when is this a sex-free workplace?" Owen strode towards Jack, blocking his view of the Welshman. "And why the hell do you care what Ianto does? You never gave a fuck." Owen snarled, coming dangerously close to Jack, his fists clenched.

Jack's face darkened. The entire year he'd been gone, he'd thought of Ianto. Worried about what Saxon would do to him. Been terrified that he'd never be able to undo the damage. He could have lost him so easily, having never said goodbye. And here his Welshman was, fucking the scum that shot Jack, floored him with a bullet to the head, opened the Rift and nearly destroyed everything, for the most selfish reasons-

Jack went for his throat. His fist crushed Owen's neck, which was weakly defended by his shoulder. Owen coughed, snarling, coming right back at him. Jack slammed a fist into his stomach, punching his head, Owen's defense crumbling.

Ianto stared, feeling numb. He watched Jack slam Owen's face down onto his own knee, blood covering Owen's face, fists flying, voices snarling. It looked like something out of that film Fight Club. Just as many vicious moves, but without all the falsity and cinema slow motion shots. Owen had taken Jack to the floor with a well-aimed kick and had gotten in a few blows to the immortal's head. But now Jack was taking over, slamming Owen into the concrete floor, leaving bloodstains.

Jack pulled back, not even aiming, watching Owen look up, not even protecting himself from the next punch. Not flinching or cowering. Just waiting for the pain. Ianto caught Jack's wrist. Jack blinked, looking up into his eyes.

"Get off of him." Ianto growled. Jack sat up on his knees, looking down at the bleeding, bruised body of Doctor Owen Harper.

Ianto watched as his captain walked away, not looking back, fist still clenched. He knelt down beside Owen, looking over the damage that his ex-lover had wrought. Owen squinted up at him, blood flowing from a cut on his forehead, dripping into his eye. "Hey." His mouth was bloody. Ianto felt sick, watching him struggle to sit up, hip already sore from the night before, ribs now likely bruised, face bloody.

This was what he had to look forward to. Watching Jack flinch every time they walked side by side. Watching Owen self-destruct in such a pointless way. Taking it out on himself. Feeling like crying when he saw the pain Owen went through because of his own stupid actions. Ianto bit his lip and kept breathing.

Jack watched the two walk through the Hub. Owen was limping, face bandaged up, but pretty well put together considering. Ianto turned, seeing Jack standing just outside his office. Jack cursed under his breath. Owen stumbled, cursing in pain. Ianto stepped back, eyes on Jack as Owen grabbed his jacket, heading towards the cog door. "Your place or mine?" He asked simply. "Yours." Frankly, Jack was surprised that the two hadn't moved in already. He'd been looking over CCTV. He didn't know when this had started, but it had been going on steadily enough that it was stupid to keep up charades like this.

"You want to go to Mass tomorrow?" Owen asked, pulling his jacket on. Ianto shook his head. "Don't think they'd like it much if I went back again." He said, honestly. "We could go somewhere else. Different priest, wouldn't know you." Owen suggested. "We need a break from it, Owen. And you need to rest." Ianto said, voice firm. Owen snorted. "Yeah, cuz no one ever gets hurt in our line of work."

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