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Title: It Should Be Me.
Fandom: Torchwood.
Characters: Gwen Cooper & Dr. Owen Harper.
Prompt: Gwen & Owen [anything].
Word Count: 2,227 words.
Rating: M; sexual situations.
Summary: Owen has an unusual burst of emotion after a quick fling.
Author's Notes: Again this is my first time writing for this pairing, so constructive criticism and comments would be nice. This takes place between the first and second seasons of Torchwood. This was written for a friend of mine on insanejournal, so it is possibly AU-ish?

“Right, ah, Owen, you with me. Tosh, you go with Ianto, yeah?” Gwen’s eyes shifted away from Owen quickly, darting to look at Tosh, who avoided her eyes and glanced at Ianto. Ianto’s eyebrows arched as he quickly looked to Gwen.

“Right, then. Tosh, you ready?” He asked as they both turned and started down the dark road in one direction, neither of them looking back towards the other members of their team.

Gwen’s mouth pursed slightly and suddenly she couldn’t look at Owen. She could tell by the way Tosh looked away that she knew, and Ianto was far too polite to let Gwen know if he knew either way. Her footsteps were heavy as she walked down the road with Owen not far behind her. “Quit it,” she warned him without looking back.

“Quit what?” Owen asked as innocently as his voice could muster, even if they both knew better.

“Quit staring at my bum,” she told him him with a warning glance over her shoulder. Her tone was certainly more playful than she had intended, and suddenly the engagement ring on her finger felt heavier than it should.

Owen’s laugh utterly annoyed Gwen for two reasons; one, it completely charmed her and two, she knew that it shouldn’t completely charm her. “We both know that’s not only impossible, but that you don’t really want me to stop staring at your bum.” Owen’s tone was all matter-of-fact, as if he had somehow read Gwen’s mind.

“I’m getting married, you know?” She asked off-handedly, her voice damn-near a whisper. It was in those moments that it was hard to tell that Gwen was the leader. The months that Jack had been gone had changed everyone, but Gwen felt that she felt it the most out of all of them.

“I know,” Owen replied dryly before putting his gun away. Reaching out, he quickly grabbed Gwen’s arm and forced her to turn towards him. “I know,” he repeated and pulled her against him. His free hand went straight to her dark hair, cupping the back of her head and curling his fingers into her soft hair. Their lips met, but it wasn’t like any of the other times they had kissed.

Even being on the brink of death didn’t compare to the crushing way that Owen’s mouth overtook Gwen’s. It shot lust straight through her before both both comms hit the ground, followed quickly by their jackets. “Life would be so much easier if you’d learn to wear skirts,” Owen pointed out as he started working on Gwen’s pants.

Gwen almost groaned against his mouth. “Shut it, would you?” She snapped as she tugged his pants open. Their mouths pressed together again, and she damn near felt dizzy. She knew she should stop, but she simply couldn’t push Owen away.

Twisting them around, Owen threw her up against the closest building that he could find. It was just an empty warehouse in a deserted part of town; no one would know that they were there. Well, no one outside of Tosh and Ianto, but Owen knew they were nowhere near by.

As soon as Gwen’s pants and knickers were down, Owen shoved his own pants down. He barely waited until they were down around his thighs before he was grabbing her thigh and yanking her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist. “Always rushed,” he murmured as he rubbed against her already wet opening. “Always ready to get off, to come around my cock.”

“Put the fookin’ condom on an’ get it on, then!” Gwen’s impatient words rang out, and for once she wished that they could go without the condom. She knew that Owen was clean; but if on the off-chance that she got pregnant, she wouldn’t know how to explain that to Rhys. She brushed those thoughts away and focused instead on kissing Owen and rubbing against him.

They drove each other crazy, but the sex was never as hot as it was when he got to be inside Gwen. Ripping the condom open, Owen quickly rolled it over his already hard cock and nearly pushed inside of her with one easy, if forceful, thrust. Yanking his mouth away from hers, Owen let out a low groan as his hands gripped her hips. “Good fuck... Bloody hell, Gwen...”

A soft, slight moan caught in the back of her throat before she finally let out a loud moan. Her hands gripped his shoulders and the back of his head, her fingers twisting in his dark hair. Her moans started rolling as their bodies worked together, her hips slamming against his hips before being thrown back against the wall. “F-fuck...Fuck Owen...” She panted, pressing her face against his neck in some attempt to be quiet.

“Don’t... Don’t do that...” Owen gripped her skin a bit tighter, doing his best to keep from leaving marks on her. “Don’t you dare fucking hold back,” he grunted the words out almost in perfect time with his thrusts. “Moan for me, Gwen...I want to know when you’re about to come.” He pushed her shirt up before yanking her bra down, his palm greedily covering her breast and massaging it almost roughly.

Her hand tugged on his hair and yanked his head back, their eyes connecting as her mouth fell open. “We need to stop,” she told him, nearly moaning the words out. “We -- We have to... To stop, Owen.”

His hand moved down between their bodies as he licked over his lips. His fingertips sought out her clit, rubbing it in quick circles until she was practically writhing between him and the building. “Don’t say that,” he growled and started fucking her harder. “Don’t fucking say that, Gwen.”

“You -- you know...” Gwen gasped and closed her eyes tightly. Owen was right before; she never did come as hard with Rhys as she did with owen. “You know I’m -- I’m...” Her words were coming out the way she wanted them to. “I’m coming!” She moaned the words out loudly, her head thrown back and pressed to the warehouse.

Owen’s fingers never stopped working and neither did his cock. He used his entire body to try to get her off, and once she was there, he knew that he wouldn’t be terribly far behind her. He allowed her orgasm to milk his own from him, and before he knew what was going on, he was filling the condom and pressing her body roughly to the wall. His face buried in against her neck.

“It should be me,” he gasped against her neck. The words came out softly, to the point where he damn near hoped that he had whispered it. He thought, briefly, that she hadn’t heard what he said.

...At least until she started laughing.

“Wh -- What?” She nearly sounded dumbfounded. Her limbs were still wrapped around him, though, and she didn’t try to get away from him.

Licking over his lips, Owen swallowed down roughly. “It should be me, Gwen.” Part of him couldn’t believe that he actually said those words. What the hell was he thinking? “I should be the one you’re marrying, not The Civilian.”

“Don’t call him that,” Gwen nearly growled the words out. “Besides, you... You can’t just... You can’t say all of this just because you’ve got off.” There was something else in her tone, though; she nearly sounded hopeful.

Owen’s hands pressed to the building on either side of her body. “I’m not just sayin’ that, Gwen. You know you don’t belong with him -- you’ve known since the first time we kissed. Why don’t you just fookin’ admit it?” His voice was slightly annoyed, but that was the norm for when the two of them were talking. Natural sexual tension, he figured... Even when he was still buried (albeit almost uncomfortably) inside her.

“Are you ... “ Gwen blinked her thick lashes at him and swallowed almost roughly. “Are you asking me to marry you, instead of Rhys?”

The question nearly made Owen freeze. Maybe he hadn’t thought this entire thing though. He stared at her for a long moment and weighed his options; there were certainly a pile of perks to being single, but at the same time the thought of Gwen going off and marrying Rhys was continuously driving him crazy. Hell, just the idea that she went home to him every night nearly drove him mad. “I’m askin’...” Could he actually say it? “I’m askin’ you not to marry him.”

The silence between them seemed to drag on and on, and it only seemed to put more weight on Owen’s shoulders. Gwen, too, was weighing her options. Rhys was a steady part of her life; someone that she could always depend on to be there for her when she needed him. Owen was a play boy at heart, a smart ass who bickered with her like they were children.

One way or another there was no easy answer. If she left Rhys, it would be devastating for him, and for her, too. They had been together for so long now, and Owen wasn’t exactly being forthcoming with her.

“I -- I can’t, Owen.” She drew his name out in a quiet tone. It was a tone that he recognized right away; she wanted to cave, but there was something holding her back. “I love him, y’know?”

“We belong together, Gwen.” Whether that meant marriage or not had yet to be seen. “You shouldn’t be with him. He’ll never know you the way that I know you.” He gently pulled his hips back until he finally slipped out of her.

“Now that isn’t quite the point now, is it?” She questioned him as she set her feet back on the ground. They awkwardly pulled apart as they both tried getting dressed before another wave of lust hit them. “You just want me because Rhys has me.”

Owen let out a dry laugh as he flung the used condom into a nearby trash can. Tugging his pants up, he turned towards her and cupped her cheeks, causing her to stop. “I want you because we belong together, damn it Gwen.” His eyes searched her and he hated the desperate tone that overcame him.

“You can’t tell me that Rhys understands about you working for Torchwood. That he understands about you only ever coming home every once in a blue moon. He doesn’t understand about alien tech or the way that you go dashing off in the middle of dates to save the world. He doesn’t understand, but I do.”

As she stood there listening to him, half dressed and feeling the night’s chill caressing her bare skin. She was speechless for the longest of moments, her mouth slightly open as she watched his eyes. While he spoke she was trying to figure out if he was messing with her or if he had gone mental. “I -- Why ... Why now, Owen? Why did you wait so bloody long to say all of this to me?” Her eyebrows twisted together slightly as she watched him, confusion and near-pain settling in her large eyes as she watched him.

“Because I --” It was suddenly hard for Owen to breathe. Why had he waited so long? “Because I didn’t think you’d ever actually marry him, Gwen. I never thought a clever girl like you would ever settle for ... For him.”

“Then this isn’t about me getting married, it’s about me being with Rhys?”

“Yes!” Yanking his shirt on, Owen slid his hands through his hair. “He doesn’t deserve you!” Grabbing his comm, he shoved it back into his ear before frowning and hitting his comm. “This is Owen, what’ve you got Tosh?”

Gwen finished getting dressed and quickly put her comm back in her ear. Tosh and Owen had found the weapon they were looking for, and soon enough they were running towards where their other team members were going. “This isn’t something you can just throw out in the air like this, you know?”

“Well, it looks like I just did, Gwen Cooper,” Owen panted out as they ran. “You’ll have to make a decision, you know? Me or him.” He glanced over at her. “A boring, every day life where you know you’ll keep thinking about how we fucked regularly -- like we were on a bloody schedule -- a life full of boring Sunday brunches and tea with a man you can’t even talk to about work... Or you can have me.”

“So this is what it’s all come down to, then?”

“Yup, pretty much.”

“I need time t’think about it. I can’t just up an’ give you an answer right now, now can I?”

Owen grinned slowly as Tosh and Ianto came into sight again. “You haven’t got all the time in the world, you know?” They slowed their runs to a jog and finally to walking. “I won’t wait for you forever.”
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February 2013

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