Title: Absolution
By: lilithangel
Pairings: Ianto/Owen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: minor B&D and S&M
Summary: Twice they came together for an absolution of their own grief and self hatred that nobody else would give them.

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Ianto

Jack wouldn’t give him what he needed, not right now. Despite the Captain’s threats Ianto knew that at best he would get a visit and a pill. Be granted pardon and lose everything that had happened, including Lisa if Jack was still as angry.

Ianto didn’t want absolution, not yet and he definitely didn’t want to forget. So he knocked on Owen’s door instead.

Owen just stared at him when the door opened and then turned and walked up the stairs. He left the door open so Ianto took that as tacit permission to follow. He followed slowly despite his resolve to see it through. Owen was unpredictable and Ianto knew how angry the other man had been, angrier than Jack in some ways. Owen had different reasons, there wasn’t the emotional connection that he’d formed with Jack to add that betrayal to the mix, but a betrayal of life.

Owen was sitting on the sofa when he entered the loft and shut the door. He never been there before but had very little desire to look around, drawn instead to the white cold rage in Owen’s eyes, and the knowledge there.

“I hope you haven’t come here to apologise or expect me to apologise,” Owen said, “I was at Torchwood One after, I saw what those things did just like you did, and you brought one here in secret and let it kill.” Owen bit the words out through his rage.

“It was Lisa and I loved her,” he said dully. The same words he’d said before but without the fire of conviction he’d managed then.

“Why are you here then?” Owen knew, but it had to be said out loud so there was no mistake.

“I want to hurt,” he said, “I’m numb and I don’t want to be. I need it to keep hurting.”

“I’ll hurt you,” Owen said, “but on my terms. We’ll do it my way or you can just turn around now and get the hell out.” At his silence Owen nodded harshly. “Then strip.”

Owen didn’t say anything else, just sat and waited for his shaking fingers to undo his tie, unbutton his vest and shirt, pull them off and fold them neatly. Waited and watched as he toed off his shoes, pulled off his socks and tucked them carefully into the shoes. Pushing down his trousers and boxers to stand naked, he was suddenly very aware of the large picture window that dominated the room.

“Kneel,” Owen said, getting up from the sofa. He obeyed and only flinched slightly when Owen moved closer. “Hands behind your head and keep them there. You armoured yourself with your suits and ties and your lies, well not here.”

Owen watched him for a moment and then walked to the fridge, returning with a beer. He sat down and proceeded to ignore Ianto as he drank. When he finished drinking he started to talk without looking at Ianto.

“There was so much blood and so much screaming. There weren’t as many bodies as the blood suggested there should be. Most of the fully converted and all of the invaders got sucked into that breach they opened. Those that were left…” Owen closed his eyes briefly. “Those that were left were either screaming for death or wanted to convert us.” He finally looked at Ianto. “And you brought that into the Hub. How much did she scream before you hooked her up to painkillers, how often did she beg for death?”

Ianto was crying now, hard heavy tears that ran unchecked down his face as he took Owen’s words and rage. He held position and let them fall even as Owen stood up and stalked around him.

“Everything you did since you joined, it means nothing. We can’t believe anything.” Owen stopped and rested his hands on Ianto’s shoulders, fingers biting in deep enough to leave crescent indents that rapidly filled with blood. “Make yourself hard, jerk off,” he said, returning to the sofa.

Ianto only hesitated for a moment, realising by the look in Owen’s eyes that he had no choice, except to obey or leave. Either way, pain or humiliation or both, this was why he’d come to Owen.

It was easier than he thought to get hard and he felt a rush of shame that his body could want it, could want the humiliation and discomfort.

Owen watched him with a set face and hooded eyes, the anger evident in every line. “Finish yourself off,” he said, “don’t make a mess of my floor or you’ll be licked it up.”

Closing his eyes he conjured up all his favourite pornographic images and shamefully easily reached orgasm, catching his release with one hand.

“Wipe it on yourself then get up and go stand in front of the window,” Owen said, “hands on the glass.”

He stood naked to the outside world. The loft was well above the street and nobody could see inside, but the sensation of exposure flushed his skin red. He heard the sound of Owen snapping leather and in the reflection he could see Owen wrapping the end of a belt in one fist.

“Anyone who looked up would see you naked in my window,” Owen whispered in his ear, “they won’t see me, just some pervert naked where anyone could see.”

Owen stepped back and he felt the sting of the belt bite into his arse. He sucked in a breath, but before he could prepare Owen brought the belt down again and again, criss-crossing his arse and thighs. The strikes melded into a mass of heat and pain until he couldn’t hold back the tears or the cries of pain. Owen dropped the belt and ran his hand over the raised welts almost tenderly.

Owen stood behind him, warm breath tickling the hairs on his neck. The glass didn’t reflect the other man until a hand reached around and two fingers were pressed into his mouth. He sucked them, pretty certain he was going to want them as wet as possible.

He felt one finger press inside him and he gasped and braced himself against the glass. Two fingers breached him and started to thrust in and out. He felt the delicate tissues of his arse split increasing the burn and bringing more tears to his eyes.

Owen didn’t remove his fingers and used them to direct Ianto to kneel on the bed. Finally he pulled free and wiped them on Ianto’s shirt before grabbing the abandoned tie.

Owen used the tie to bind his hands behind his back and then pushed him face down on the bed. This time a lubed finger breached him and then a slick cock pushed inside with little concern for his comfort. He could feel Owen’s clothed legs press against his thighs and he knew the other man hadn’t even bothered to do more than unzip to penetrate him.

The fabric of Owen’s jeans rubbed painfully on his welts and he accepted the pain even as he cursed his traitorous cock for stirring again as Owen slammed against his prostate.

It was hard and fast and Owen reached climax before he could get close again. Owen pulled out and shot over his back making sure to cover the worst of the welts.

“I know why you’re doing this,” Owen spoke calmly, purged of his rage. “Not because you nearly got us killed and two innocent people did die, but because you failed to save her and that’s eating you up inside. If innocent people hadn’t died I might even sympathise. Get dressed and get out.” He undid the tie from Ianto’s wrists.

Ianto stumbled to his feet and pulled his clothes on quickly but carefully. He winced as the fabric rubbed at his welts and cringed at the stickiness that was transferred to his clothes. He stuffed his ruined tie into a pocket and picked up his shoes.

Owen didn’t say another word, sitting on the bed staring out the window. He left the apartment feeling lighter and almost ready to return to the Hub and face the others. He and Owen would not speak of what happened between them choosing to retreat behind the hostility they were both comfortable with.

* * * * *

Owen

After he shot Jack and then the Captain died a second time they were in too much shock to really consider what had happened and their actions at the time. When Jack finally came back to life and forgave him it lifted the dull agony in his heart. It came back in full when Jack left them without a word. What did his forgiveness mean if he could just leave them like that?

Owen knew Ianto thought the same even after Jack’s kiss. When the girls finally left the Hub he turned to Ianto who gestured in the direction of the cells.

They walked down in silence. Owen could feel the weight of Ianto’s stare on his back and he remembered the fight they’d had when he’d used the Rift Manipulator to get Jack and Tosh back. He also couldn’t help but remember what he had done to Ianto that day at his loft. He’d kept the memory of it locked away in a place to access at his darkest moments, when the rage filled him or the adrenalin was pumping and he couldn’t get rid of it. When he’d been recovering from his fight with the Weevil he’d recalled the heat of the welts from his belt and the tightness of Ianto’s arse around his cock when he’d jerked off in his hospital bed after Jack left.

He was well aware of the rage that Ianto kept hidden beneath that cultivated butler exterior and now it was his turn to tap into it for his own absolution. He’d been so angry at Jack and so desperate to get Diane that he’d not even thought about it when he pulled the trigger. Jack had been there for every loss in his life since Katie and Jack had promised to make it better.

It wasn’t better, but maybe Ianto could fix that.

When they got to the cells Ianto reached around Owen and opened the closest one. “Strip,” he said and Owen obeyed, leaving his clothes discarded outside the cell.

They both entered and Ianto pushed him to his knees, fingers biting into the bullet wound in his shoulder. He crumpled to the floor to avoid the pain but Ianto kept the pressure on until he was prostrate on the ground. It was cold and dirty and he could feel blood seeping out of his wound.

“You called him your Captain, you tore the Rift open to get him back and then you shot him. Not just once but three times. He was dead but you kept on shooting. Did you know he wouldn’t stay dead?” Ianto demanded, releasing his shoulder with one last vicious push.

“No,” he managed to say through the pain.

“We all betrayed him but you killed him.” A shoe connected with his ribs, rolling him onto his back. “You’re hard,” Ianto said with contempt kicking him once more, “you’re naked, in pain and you’re hard. Get up onto your knees.”

Red with shame he clambered awkwardly onto his knees. Ianto unzipped and pulled his own hard cock out. He pinched down hard on Owen’s bullet wound and when Owen cried out he pushed his cock inside.

Owen choked but knew better than to get his teeth involved. Ianto released his shoulder and grabbed hold of his jaw holding him in place as he was ruthlessly mouth fucked.

Ianto was staring at the wall of the cell, not even bothering to look at him. He was just a receptacle for Ianto’s rage and grief and that was all he deserved to be.

Jack’s dead gaze was frozen in his memory, blood splatter pattern overlaid by the grey of Jack’s face in the mortuary. Wherever he looked Jack’s face was staring back at him, even when he closed his eyes and tried to remember the feel of Jack’s lips when he was forgiven. How could Jack forgive him, how could he let himself be forgiven?

He choked again when Ianto thrust into his throat without warning and he fought the gag reflex when Ianto didn’t pull out, blocking his airflow long enough for dark spots to appear on his vision. Just when he was certain Ianto wasn’t going to pull back and his hands raised in supplication, cold air rushed into his throat followed by the splatter of Ianto’s release across his face.

“You don’t get to climax,” Ianto said, wiping his cock through Owen’s hair, “not until I let you. You will not touch yourself, you will not let anyone else touch you. If you do I won’t hurt you again.” Ianto’s fist lashed out and connected with his jaw sending him to the ground.

When he came to he was alone in the cell his clothes tossed carelessly around him. He dressed carefully and went back upstairs, in too much pain to care about the arousal that he still felt.

The next day the girls didn’t comment on his bruises and Ianto didn’t look at him at all. Even when they were alone in the archives and Ianto bent him over to fuck him dry, making sure he stayed hard the whole time. They showered in silence afterwards and Ianto jerked him back to complete hardness before letting him get dressed.

He cracked after four days and when he was crouched under Jack’s desk with Ianto’s shoe pressed into his groin he shot his release all over the patent leather. He licked it clean without having to be told and when he climbed out from under the desk Ianto kissed him briefly on the spot where he could still feel Jack’s lips.

“It’s over,” Ianto said, “no more pain.”

He nodded silently and left the office. And there was no more pain until Jack returned.


END

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