Title: Knife Edge
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Owen Harper
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: slash_me_twice
Prompt: 9, Sharp
Author's Note: Continuation of Spend My Life.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Owen Harper, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

Owen sighed, looking over at the Doctor and hoping that the other man wouldn't look up from the book he was reading. He didn't want to be caught looking at the Time Lord like some kind of errant schoolboy who couldn't keep himself from sneaking a peek.

But that was what he felt like, wasn't it? he asked himself, holding back a sigh. He'd been acting like a kid with his first crush for some time now; he should really just make himself man up and tell the Doctor how he was feeling.

He'd been the Doctor's companion for a few weeks now, and it was getting more than a little frustrating that their relationship hadn't progressed more .... intimate lines. At least, it frustrated Owen; he didn't know how the Doctor felt about things.

All he wanted was to have the Time Lord in his bed -- or for himself to be in the other man's bed. At this point, it didn't matter to him which place they ended up.

The only thing that mattered to him was that he could somehow end up being much more than just a companion to the Doctor. He wasn't absolutely sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the Time Lord thought of him in the same way.

If only he could find out for sure just how the other man regarded him, Owen thought, holding back another sigh as he glanced at the Doctor again. He was disconcerted to realize that the other man was looking back at him with a steady gaze.

He wondered how long the Doctor had been sitting there looking at him -- and what hid behind those enigmatic dark eyes. He wanted to blurt out the question, but he didn't dare; not with that speculative look that the Time Lord was giving him.

Owen couldn't keep himself from squirming uncomfortably under that gaze; it was as though the Doctor was reaching into his innermost thoughts and pulling them out of his head.

Finally, he couldn't keep himself quiet any more. "How long have you been watching me?" he said, finally raising his eyes to meet that dark gaze. "I didn't think it was so obvious that I've had my eyes on you, but it must have been if you felt it."

The Doctor smiled slightly, shrugging and running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, really," he confessed, sounding almost sheepish. "I happened to glance up and saw you looking at me, and was just wondering why you're doing that."

What did he say now? Owen almost felt frantic for a few moments; with any other person, the words would slip facilely from his tongue, and he'd feel confident in his ability to say the words that would ensure they ended up in his bed for the night.

But this wasn't just any person. This was the Doctor; this was the man he wanted to be able to spend the rest of his life with.

The thought made Owen's eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't said those words yet, not even in his innermost thoughts; but there they were, crystal-clear in his mind and ready to tumble off the tip of his tongue into the silence of the room.

He loved the Doctor. He'd known that he was fond of the other man, that he considered them to be close friends; and of course, he was grateful to the Time Lord for taking him to New Earth and bringing him back from the condition he'd been in.

Somehow, these emotions had snuck up on him; he hadn't expected to feel this way about anyone again. Not after the last person he'd been with, when his love had been rejected and his heart had been broken for what he'd wanted to be the last time.

He'd sworn from that day on that he'd never give his heart to anyone again -- but apparently, he'd lied to himself about that.

When had he fallen for the Doctor? It hadn't happened all at once; it had been over the course of the time he'd spent here with the Time Lord. But Owen was sure that what he felt was love -- a stronger love than he'd ever felt for anyone else.

His emotions were like the razor-sharp edge of a knife, slicing into him every time he looked at the other man. All he'd been able to think of lately when the Doctor was close to him was how much he wanted to take the other man into his arms and kiss him breathless.

Among other things, he told himself, squirming in his chair. It wasn't only the Doctor's direct gaze that was making him uncomfortable; it was his thoughts as well. Those thoughts were making his jeans distinctly tighter than they'd been only a few moments ago.

He couldn't help letting his eyes fall on that area of the Doctor's body -- and he was surprised to realize that the other man apparently had the same problem.

It was now or never. He had to tell the Doctor how he felt; if he didn't, he probably never would. He'd just make some flippant joke, and let himself go on yearning for this man. Or else, he would settle for something quick and overtly sexual that would leave him wanting more.

That wasn't going to happen; not with this man. The Doctor was worth much more than a mere quick affair that meant next to nothing, and Owen intended to treat him with all the love and respect that the Time Lord deserved to have.

Standing up, he moved to the couch where the Doctor was sitting and reached for the Time Lord's hand, pulling the other man to his feet. Before the Doctor had a chance to open his mouth, Owen was kissing him, cutting off any words he might have said.

Kissing the Doctor was even more sensually satisfying than he'd dreamed it would be. Owen found it difficult to pull away; when he did, he was breathing hard, his eyes unfocused.

His desire for this man had been dancing on the sharpness of a knife edge for so long now that it was almost impossible to believe that it might be fulfilled; and at this point, he wasn't even sure that the Time Lord felt the same way about him.

But the Doctor dispelled any doubts he might have had by leaning forward and pressing his lips to Owen's, wrapping his arms around the younger man's neck and pressing their bodies close together. The kiss made Owen weak-kneed, his senses reeling.

He was nearly gasping when the Doctor finally pulled away, those dark eyes regarding him again, though with a very different expression this time. "I think we're both thinking the same thing," the Doctor murmured, resting his forehead against Owen's and closing his eyes.

"I'd say that you're right about that," Owen answered, his tone breathless. "Just how long have you been thinking along those lines?"

"From the first moment you opened your eyes in that hospital on New Earth," the Doctor admitted, those dark eyes locking with his again. "I've wanted you for longer than you might think, Owen. I just didn't think you wanted me."

"You could have read my mind and found out that wasn't true," Owen chided him, smiling to soften the words. "But now that we're on the same page -- I think we should take this to the bedroom. And decide which one is going to be ours."

"There's no doubt of that," the Doctor murmured, a pink blush stealing into his cheeks. "I've been wanting to have you in my bed from the first night you were on the Tardis. I've been waiting for this a long time -- in other words, my bedroom is now ours."

"Then we should be in that bedroom now," Owen whispered into his ear, taking the Time Lord's hand and leading him out of the room. He could feel that knife edge receding as they made their way down the corridor, his heart beating faster at the thought of what was to come.

***