Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Ianto/Owen
Series? Yes
Disclaimer? Duh!
Other characters? Not in this piece.
Spoilers? No.
Rating: 18 (smut! First attempt, be kind!)
Plot: Jack left (post 1x13) and Ianto couldn't deal with Torchwood anymore so after an alien encounter that turned him into a twenty-one/twenty-two year old Ianto was retconned and began a new life. That was until he met Owen Harper and suddenly things aren't so simple. But Owen's the one who has to deal with the memories and the guilt and the… attraction.

Part Four: My Skin Remembers Yours

While Ianto slept, Owen wondered around his flat which was still pretty empty. It was small, just the three rooms; bedroom with en suit and a reasonably sized living room that opened up to a kitchenette which Owen was not surprised to see the main feature of was an expensive coffee machine. Little else existed, a photograph of Ianto as a child rested on the mantle piece, a faked newspaper article telling the ordeal of two year old 'Gareth Nye' being orphaned was framed and put on the wall near a book case, and a graduation ceremony collage piece hung in his bedroom. The flat smelt like fresh paint and coffee.

It was about 11:43pm when Ianto stirred, waking. This time he seemed far less groggy and seemed to be staring at Owen as if he were a complicated mathematical problem that he was having trouble solving but knew he would crack sooner or later. It made Owen feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Stop it." He said, childishly.

"Stop what?" Ianto replied, equally as childish but in his calm voice which somehow managed to make him seem mature even when he wasn't. Owen glared. Ianto gave a soft smirk that Owen could only just make out in the dim light.

"You know you'll get lines if you frown." Ianto pointed out.

"Look, mate, I don't need to worry about lines. Especially if I can still attract young twenty-somethings like yourself!" Owen pointed out triumphantly. Ianto raised an eyebrow expressively.

"I was drunk." He protested.

"You're not drunk now." Owen said, his voice lowering.

"No," Ianto rasped, "I'm not."

They were both breathing a little faster, not over dramatically but enough that they knew where this was heading. Owen edged closer to the bed and waited for Ianto to make the first move, when the younger man pulled back the covers Owen slipped inside and brought his lips to Ianto, kissing deeply and passionately but not violently. This wasn't a contest. Owen wasn't angry anymore, he was turned on. He wasn't desperate or drunk or trying to feel alive, for the first time in a very long time Owen was making love.

Ianto groaned into the kiss and pressed his mostly-naked body closer to Owen's muttering something about 'too many clothes', Owen bit back a smile as they joined forces to tare off hi jeans and t-shirt and threw them on to the floor.
Looking into each other's eyes they both removed their boxers at the same time, a sort of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' attitude. And then it was all ragged breathing and clammy hands grasping each other as if they were trying to pull one another inside. Owen kissed Ianto only stopping to breath as Ianto fumbled with a tube of lubricant which had been stored in the bedside table underneath a Bible.
"You need to get your priorities straight, mate." Owen told him.
Ianto sighed. "Think about it, who's likely to pick up a Bible from a bedside drawer and think 'isn't that interesting'?" Ianto told him smartly.
"No one I'd have in my bedroom." Owen informed him and the tension was thick with lust. Ianto squirted some lube into his warm palm and his hand disappeared beneath the sheet.
"Ah!" Owen gasped as Ianto slid his hand up and down his cock, slowly. Too slowly. Owen started to shift and thrust only Ianto moved on top of him straddling him, still moving incredibly slow.
"PleasePleasePleasePleasePlea-" Owen moaned, unable to move from Ianto's surprisingly firm weight pressing him down.
Ianto smiled darkly and the part of Owen's brain which was still functioning (the very small part: Ianto had extremely nimble fingers and the few calluses on his hands only increased the friction and caused Owen to groan with impatience) thought maybe there was a small part of the old Ianto in there somewhere, enjoying having Owen completely at his mercy. This all stopped when Ianto abruptly let go causing Owen to groan loud enough for the neighbours to hear and Ianto repositioned himself before slowly - ever so frustratingly slowly - took him inside, pausing to let himself adjust. All Owen could do was pant and moan and pray. Ianto started thrusting and soon Owen was rising up to meet him, both of them sweaty and panting and groaning together, moving to the same tempo. Owen realised Ianto was still controlling the movements but didn't care as he tossed and bucked and came, shooting into the condom he hadn't even noticed he was wearing. Ianto followed a second later, stilling and letting his lashes flutter in the aftermath of their passion. Owen found himself strangely glad to have come first so he could witness Ianto's face exactly like that. It was usually a competition - even more so with blokes - who can hold out the longest. But like he'd thought earlier, this was love making and he was going soft in the head.
Ianto rolled off his, disposing of the condom, and lay down. Soon they were both asleep (or so Owen presumed).
But next to him lay Ianto, his mind going a thousand a second, catching up, figuring out.

Everything.

Morning came. Light infiltrating the half open curtains. Owen groaned. He hated mornings. Plus, he was still sweaty and the bed he lay in smelt strongly of sex and cum. His lashes fluttered open.

"You called out Ianto when you came." Ianto/Gareth said. Fuck! Owen jumped and turned to face the other man. He still looked unreasonably young but instead of the jeans and tight t's he wore a perfect suit; black with a pale pink shirt underneath and a purple tie. A cup of steaming coffee was held in his hand which he pushed towards Owen.
"Sorry?" Owen said meekly. An apology with Ianto/Gareth ignored as if it was never muttered.
"It was the final catalyst." Ianto said, because it was Ianto, the old Ianto. And Owen was in his bed - naked, drinking coffee. This was not a good thing. Owen really hated morning.
"You remember." Owen said.
"Everything." Ianto agreed.

PLEASE COMMENT. There is one final part and then I may be convinced to do a mini drabble marathon with them.