Rating: Hard R
Notes/Warnings/Spoilers-Post-ep for Countrycide. Gwen-haters, don't bother. Thanks to beta_goddess who always makes my Torchfic that much better and shares my opinions and my sandbox.
Summary: Jack likes to listen.
“I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“That ain’t gonna stop you, is it.”
Finally, Jack thought, wondering exactly what had taken them so long when the tension was obvious even before they’d been forced into close proximity during the Cyberwoman crisis.
Bugging the employees’ apartments probably wasn’t standard protocol in most business relationships but this was Torchwood. Check your standards at the door. He hadn’t bothered listening to Owen with his bar pick-ups, aside from noting that Owen was back-sliding into self-destructive behaviour, but now that Gwen was involved, it was his responsibility to keep an eye (or in this case an ear) on his team. At least that’s what he’d tell them if they happened to find out.
You didn’t have to be an emotional cripple to work for Torchwood, but somehow Jack had managed to recruit a team rife with personal demons. It wouldn’t do to have anyone healthier than himself around the Hub, and Gwen was turning out to be no exception.
He didn’t think Gwen and Owen were going to last long or be the least bit good for each other, but at least they’d provide him with some entertainment. Ianto was still too traumatised for any further grooming and nothing interesting had dropped in through the rift lately.
What he did have was a comfortable bed, a silky oil and speakers letting him know exactly what was going on in Owen’s bedroom.
For all her guilt, Gwen seemed to be getting into things quite readily. There’d been a period of what Jack assumed was kissing before Owen’s sharp gasp indicated something else. Jack could imagine exactly what was happening. He saw Gwen moving down Owen’s body, doing things with her mouth at various points along the way until she arrived at her goal.
He remembered the times he’d stared at her mouth as they’d had “innocent” discussions about aliens, and daydreamed of exactly how those lips would feel against his cock. Owen was a fucked-up son-of-a-bitch, but right now he was one lucky bastard, if the sounds pouring into Jack’s bedroom were any indication.
Jack poured out some of the oil and let his hand trail lightly up and down the shaft, imagining himself the recipient of Gwen’s oral skills.
As much as he loved having sex, there was something equally appealing about listening to other people getting caught up in their individual passions, completely unaware of his invisible presence. It was the only time people ever dropped their masks. Owen’s increasingly desperate moans made him sound surprisingly vulnerable and who would ever have imagined that Gwen Cooper had such a filthy mouth, once she was able to use it again.
“All right., Owen. You said I’d forget my name, well, right now I want to forget everything, so come on and fuck me.”
Some day I will, Gwen.. I promise.
It was just a matter of time, nothing he needed to rush. Right now, he was enjoying his mental peep show, which featured Gwen on her knees and Owen taking her from behind. The look on her face, eyes closed, mouth open, was absolutely sublime and Owen’s trim form hadn’t escaped his attention either.. Jack imagined he’d have one hand squeezing at a firm breast and the other massaging Gwen’s clit. Torchwood had never disappointed him, sexually anyway.
Jack looked down and smiled. Slick and hard. Not bad for his age, he thought. The occasional gray hair was one thing, but god forbid time ever caught up with this.
Gwen was shouting obscenities, begging Owen to fuck her harder, let her come, in that delicious accent. She couldn’t take much more and neither could he.
“Hang on, love,” Owen gasped. “Both of us together.”
Make that three.
Jack closed his eyes, let his stroke match Gwen’s breathing, Owen’s words, the thrusts he could almost feel.
“Oh god, oh god….Owen, please, please…oh god…I’m so, please...”
“I’m right there with you sweetheart, come on, now, give it to me now.”
Gwen was definitely a screamer.
He let himself get swept away in the sounds pouring out of the speakers, lost track of his own hands until he felt the shiver and allowed himself to relax into temporary stolen pleasure.
“Oh god, Owen… that was….I’m…”
“Gonna be a bit hard going back to old Rhys now, huh?”
Leave it Owen to say the wrong thing and Gwen to respond with the kind of clichéd propriety he’d tired of nearly a century earlier.
“Rhys? Oh my god! What have I done?”
“Had the best sex of your life is all.”
“And after a nice cup of tea and a rest, you’re gonna do it again.”
“You bloody bastard.”
Jack wiped a hand against his sheet before turning off the speakers.
The tea they could have in private.