The Road to Hell

by citrinesunset

Summary:

After an unplanned encounter with an alien plant, Owen and Ianto come to an arrangement: casual sex with no obligations. But good intentions only go so far.

Notes:

Written for the TARDIS Big Bang. Thank you to santousha for the great, patient beta!

Chapter 1

Owen woke up feeling like his brain had been replaced with cotton balls. He was lying naked on the hard floor, and he felt the bare flesh of another person lying on top of him.

Truthfully, Owen woke up like this often. But he had no memory of going to the pub, or meeting anyone. The last thing he remembered clearly was taking one of the alien plants out of the boardroom and bringing it down to the autopsy bay to study.

Once he remembered that, the rest of it came back to him, though it was hazy, like remembering a dream. Owen remembered having sex, but it was more the idea of sex, rather than the feel of it.

Which was fine, really, until he remembered who he'd had sex with: Ianto. Fuck.

He cracked open his eyes, and winced at the bright overhead light. He turned his head out of direct view of it, and when he managed to open his eyes again, he looked down his chest and saw Ianto hugging the lower half of his body. Ianto had come in his hair.

Owen cleared his throat and tested his voice. "Ianto..." The name tickled in Owen's throat. He needed some water.

Ianto didn't respond, and Owen put his hand on Ianto's head and pushed a little. "Ianto, wake up."

When Ianto still didn't stir, Owen tapped, and then slapped, him on the arm. "Oi, mate, wake up."

They had obviously been exposed to some sort of drug, and it was a little worrying that Ianto was still unconscious. Owen had hated working with overdoses when he'd worked in the A&E; he sure as hell didn't want to have to deal with one now. How would he explain it to Gwen and Tosh?

At least with Jack gone, there wouldn't be any crude chuckles about aphrodisiacs.

Just then, Ianto groaned and opened his eyes. His eyes were glassy, and he looked confused.

"You all right?" Owen asked.

Instead of answering, Ianto blinked, and his eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. He looked as miserably wasted as Owen felt, which made Owen feel a little better.

He rolled off of Owen, and Owen sat up, grabbing a leg of the autopsy table to hoist himself off the floor. Owen moved too fast, and a sharp pain shot through his head. He screwed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, Ianto was standing with his back to him, hands on his hips. Ianto had red, finger-shaped marks on his arms and hips that would probably turn into bruises before the end of the day.

Owen cleared his throat. "Is that your attempt at modesty? I can still see your arse, you know."

Ianto looked over his shoulder and glared.

"What?" Owen said. "Had to say something."

Ianto looked away. "I think I'd rather not talk to you." There was a hint of a growl in Ianto's voice, but it could have been that Ianto was having trouble speaking. Owen's throat and nose still burned from inhaling the pollen or whatever the hell it was. Their bodies, and the entire autopsy bay, were covered with the fine yellow powder.

The plant still sat on the table. Owen felt like shoving it off onto the floor, but he didn't feel like risking any further contact with it just now. It was a hideous thing. The flowers were blue and the leaves were the same shade of dark pink as the tie Ianto had been wearing (which was now rumpled on the floor with the rest of Ianto's clothes). Owen believed the technical name was fuchsia. He sorely wanted to see a connection, and blame Ianto for this.

Owen looked at his watch, which was the only thing he was wearing, and blinked until he could make out the time. "Fuck," he said, "Tosh'll be in before long."

Ianto looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide now. "What time is it?"

"After five." It had been just before midnight when he'd brought the plant down for study. No wonder he was so tired—he'd been having sex for the better part of four hours, at least. "You gonna get dressed, or are you just going to stand there naked for her to come in and find you?"

"I was waiting for a little privacy," Ianto informed him, and the tone of his voice reminded Owen of the ache he still felt when he moved his shoulder. At least Ianto didn't have his gun on him.

Owen wasn't going to try to reason with Ianto. He crouched down and pulled his clothes out from among Ianto's. He rolled up his shirt and jeans, and held them over his crotch as he headed for the stairs.

"I'm taking a shower," he announced. There was no reason to go into detail why, because it was obvious. He had dried come on his body, and he was trying to ignore the fact that some of it wasn't his. But then, he was no worse off than Ianto.

Owen left Ianto and went to the communal showers. The team rarely used them, except in situations involving lots of alien blood and goo, but Torchwood was always prepared, and they kept little packages of especially astringent soap and shampoo on hand. The packaging was emblazoned with the Torchwood logo, and was like being in a hotel, except more utilitarian. The soap made his skin red, and his scalp itched a bit, but it was worth it to get rid of any trace of Ianto.

When he finished, he hesitantly went back into the main part of the Hub. He looked around, and spotted Ianto sitting at one of the workstations, looking at the computer screen and fully dressed, thankfully. Owen made his way over.

Ianto didn't look at him, but said, "I'm going to delete the CCTV footage."

"Right. Good idea."

"You need to get that plant...contained. Preferably in the incinerator. This can't happen again."

Owen snorted. "You always this bossy after you have sex?"

Ianto ignored him, but his hand tightened on the mouse. He pulled up the CCTV footage and chose the appropriate starting time. Owen watched over Ianto's shoulder. The footage showed Owen in the autopsy bay, inspecting the plant.

It wasn't even a job Owen wanted to do. He just got stuck cataloguing the damn things. It wasn't his fault he'd studied biology more than the others.

On the screen, a yellow cloud started rising out of the plant, obscuring Owen's head. Owen watched himself turn away, one arm over his nose to prevent further inhalation. To the right of the screen, Ianto came into view. He was on the stairs, and the yellow cloud reached his head before he could move.

Owen stared dumbly as the footage progressed. It was hard to tell exactly when the fumbling and coughing turned into groping and kissing. He blinked and glanced away when they started taking off their clothes. It was like seeing amateur porn with him in it. Thankfully, that was when Ianto stopped the footage.

"I'll just delete five hours' worth," Ianto said. "That should cover it all."

"Yeah, you do that. I'll take care of the autopsy bay," Owen said as he started making his retreat.

He got the broom, but before sweeping up the pollen he took several samples, which he marked as dangerous and placed out of the way. He was finishing with the floor when Ianto appeared at the top of the stairs.

"It's deleted. All four hours, plus anything else incriminating."

Owen looked up. "How deleted? Could anyone find it?"

"It's as deleted as possible. It's hard to get rid of all traces, but someone would have to be looking for it." He paused, and said, "I can't believe this happened."

Owen frowned. "Try not to look so disgusted."

Ianto grasped the railing and chuckled humorlessly. "Right, because that's just what I wanted to do."

"Wasn't my idea of a good time, either, but it's not like having sex with me is a big disaster. Look, it's Torchwood, this shit happens, right?"

"Still, after that other plant bit Tosh, I'd think you'd be more cautious. I'm going home." Ianto walked off.

For a moment, Owen just stared at the spot where Ianto had stood. Then he started up the stairs. "Wait--are you coming back? Gwen and Tosh'll be in soon."

Ianto was heading towards the cog door. He stopped, turned his head, and said, "My suit's wrinkled, I think I have your come in my hair, and I'm lightheaded."

He continued out the door, and Owen let him leave, still unsure if the question had been answered.

Owen collected the plant and carried it back upstairs to the boardroom. They hardly spent any time up there now with all the plants, so he didn't think it would be a risk. Later, he might look at it a bit more. Preferably while wearing a mask.

He laid down on the sofa, then, and drifted off to sleep. He hoped he'd done a good enough job cleaning up the evidence. Cleaning was Ianto's thing, not his. But he was too tired to think about it any more.

 

~~~

 

At Torchwood, having alien-induced sex with a coworker was bound to happen eventually. It had happened before, in 1967, when the entire team ended up having an orgy after eating some odd chocolates. And that was just one case. Ianto may have thought he had a claim on knowing everything about everything that had ever happened in Torchwood, but Owen had the medical files, and things like pregnancy and STI tests tended to stand out. Reading about other people's sex lives entertained him when he was bored and didn't have time to go out and have sex himself.

It wasn't like Owen had never thought about it—hadn't imagined himself with some attractive alien, or one of his coworkers. He used to imagine Suzie, and then Gwen, before that became reality.

But Ianto did not play into these fantasies at all.

Owen didn't wake up again until after Tosh came in. He opened his eyes and saw her sitting at her workstation. She glanced over at him.

"I see you're awake," she said with a small smile. "I was surprised to see you here when I arrived. Did you go home at all?"

"Uh...no, I was, um, working, you know?"

"Must've been working late."

"Yeah, well, we've all got to pitch in, do our part, right?"

Tosh just cocked her head and smiled. "I think that's a great attitude to have."

Owen got up, and sluggishly moved over to his workspace. He busied himself at his computer, and tried to ignore the fact that Ianto hadn't come back.

Gwen turned up an hour later, carrying a big bag of bagels.

"Ianto called me," she announced. "He said he's not feeling well. I told him to stay home today."

Owen glanced over casually, and Tosh turned from her computer. "He wasn't exposed to anything, was he?" Tosh asked. "Nothing that could make him sick?"

Before Owen could come up with a lie for that, Gwen turned to him and asked, "Did you see him last night?"

"Yeah," he said, "a little. He said he didn't feel right."

"Did you ask him about it?" Gwen asked.

Owen stood up. "Ianto was fine when I last saw him. Just a little light-headed. If he was really sick, he would have told you, but if you two are so concerned, call him back."

"Maybe I will," Gwen said with an air of child who had just been given a dare. She sighed before adding, "I'm just saying, it's a shame if he's sick. You'd think being a doctor, you'd have some concern."

Owen sneered at her and started for the autopsy bay. "It's not my problem if he's got a cold, and I think I know this stuff a little better than you do, love."

He went down to the autopsy bay, and stood over the table as he tried to decide what to do. There were two aliens that needed dissecting, but he couldn't motivate himself to do that. He wanted to look at the pollen samples he'd collected, but he didn't want to do that while the others were around. Gwen had an annoying habit of asking people what they were working on.

Presently, Gwen leaned over the railing with her mobile still in her hand. "I just spoke to Ianto," she said. "He said he's all right, but he's feeling a bit out of sorts. I told him he should stay home."

"Fine," Owen retorted, his voice laced with annoyance.

"Do you think maybe you should go over to his flat? Just in case? Tosh is worried he caught something off from that meteor that fell last week. Alien bacteria or something like that. Maybe you should take a blood sample or something just in case."

"Right, 'cause I've got time to waste on that. Since when did you get all paranoid?"

"I'm not paranoid. I just think, with Jack gone, we should try to take care of each other."

Gwen came down the stairs, and Owen wished he'd done a better job at dismissing her.

"Are you still upset over him shooting you? Is that it?"

"That was a month ago, and I don't let personal shit interfere with my job. If I did, you'd notice."

"Please," she murmured. "All last month you were letting your personal shit interfere with your job. I know why you wanted to open the rift."

"Yeah, like you know anything about my personal shit. You're too busy with your own fucked up life to notice anybody else's."

Gwen didn't respond; she just looked at him with her eyes wide and her mouth in a small line.

"This is about working together," she finally said. "As a team. We don't have Jack to pull us together, so need to do it ourselves."

Owen patted her on the arm, and felt her retract though she'd barely moved at all. He started for the steps. "You keep on that, love. Keep bringing in bagels, and we'll be a good team."