One-shot: I Can't Decide
Title: I Can't Decide
Author: lookninjas
Characters: Ianto, SPOILER
Rating: R, for bad words and worse thoughts
Spoilers for: "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang"
Summary: It's all about claiming someone, making them yours.
Big ups to ffarff, my beloved enabler, and seize, beta extraordinaire.
They come from the same urge, in the end, she'd told you. The urge to fuck, the urge to kill... it's all about control. Possession. Ownership. It's all about claiming someone, making them yours. Once they're dead, they can't leave you.
She said this after you fucked her, but before you killed her. Not that it makes her right, of course. She'd thought she'd understood you so well, and you let her think that, because it made things easy, but she'd never really understood anything about you. No one ever has.
The urge to fuck, the urge to kill.
They do blur, sometimes. You have to admit that. Like right now, with your gun pressed to this pretty boy's forehead. He's trembling with rage, his eyes on fire, and it would be so ridiculously easy. Force him back into the lift, the barrel of your gun pressed into his skin like a kiss, and just take whatever you like from him. He'd be beautiful on his knees, eyes closed, mouth open wide.
Control. Possession. Ownership.
And when it's all over, pull the trigger. Because God knows he'd kill you if he had the chance. Even with your gun right there in his face, your finger on the trigger, he looks like he wants to tear you limb from limb. Or fuck you into oblivion, maybe; these things do blur sometimes. Even for pretty boys in pretty suits, they blur.
It's all about claiming someone.
The therapist never understood you, not really. No one ever does. But Eye Candy here? He just might.
So you let him go, except he doesn't. He lunges forward, forcing you a step back in surprise. He forces the elevator doors open with his bare hands, and leans into your face to hiss, "Why are you doing this?"
You almost shoot him, then. Instead, you run the gun over his smooth cheeks, a seduction, a tease. You remind him that "The jokes, the sex... just cover the fact that nothing means anything." You don't have to explain anything more than that; he's smart enough to get the point.
You both want the same thing, in the end. You both want Jack, but neither of you is ever going to have him. He'll never belong to anyone, not to you, and certainly not to Eye Candy, no matter how his eyes smoulder and his hands tremble.
He doesn't look away from you, even as you back him into the lift again, and you know that he understands, not everything, maybe, but better than most. You also know that if you let him live, you're going to regret it.
Then again, you might enjoy it, too.
As the lift doors close, he slams his fists into them, torn with frustration and rage, and you laugh. After all, you can track him down later if you need to; it'll be easy enough. Maybe you'll fuck him, maybe you'll kill him. Maybe he'll kill you.
It doesn't matter. Jack is up there on the roof, waiting for someone to find him, and it's going to be you.
Once they're dead, they can't leave you.
Author: lookninjas
Characters: Ianto, SPOILER
Rating: R, for bad words and worse thoughts
Spoilers for: "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang"
Summary: It's all about claiming someone, making them yours.
Big ups to ffarff, my beloved enabler, and seize, beta extraordinaire.
They come from the same urge, in the end, she'd told you. The urge to fuck, the urge to kill... it's all about control. Possession. Ownership. It's all about claiming someone, making them yours. Once they're dead, they can't leave you.
She said this after you fucked her, but before you killed her. Not that it makes her right, of course. She'd thought she'd understood you so well, and you let her think that, because it made things easy, but she'd never really understood anything about you. No one ever has.
The urge to fuck, the urge to kill.
They do blur, sometimes. You have to admit that. Like right now, with your gun pressed to this pretty boy's forehead. He's trembling with rage, his eyes on fire, and it would be so ridiculously easy. Force him back into the lift, the barrel of your gun pressed into his skin like a kiss, and just take whatever you like from him. He'd be beautiful on his knees, eyes closed, mouth open wide.
Control. Possession. Ownership.
And when it's all over, pull the trigger. Because God knows he'd kill you if he had the chance. Even with your gun right there in his face, your finger on the trigger, he looks like he wants to tear you limb from limb. Or fuck you into oblivion, maybe; these things do blur sometimes. Even for pretty boys in pretty suits, they blur.
It's all about claiming someone.
The therapist never understood you, not really. No one ever does. But Eye Candy here? He just might.
So you let him go, except he doesn't. He lunges forward, forcing you a step back in surprise. He forces the elevator doors open with his bare hands, and leans into your face to hiss, "Why are you doing this?"
You almost shoot him, then. Instead, you run the gun over his smooth cheeks, a seduction, a tease. You remind him that "The jokes, the sex... just cover the fact that nothing means anything." You don't have to explain anything more than that; he's smart enough to get the point.
You both want the same thing, in the end. You both want Jack, but neither of you is ever going to have him. He'll never belong to anyone, not to you, and certainly not to Eye Candy, no matter how his eyes smoulder and his hands tremble.
He doesn't look away from you, even as you back him into the lift again, and you know that he understands, not everything, maybe, but better than most. You also know that if you let him live, you're going to regret it.
Then again, you might enjoy it, too.
As the lift doors close, he slams his fists into them, torn with frustration and rage, and you laugh. After all, you can track him down later if you need to; it'll be easy enough. Maybe you'll fuck him, maybe you'll kill him. Maybe he'll kill you.
It doesn't matter. Jack is up there on the roof, waiting for someone to find him, and it's going to be you.
Once they're dead, they can't leave you.