FIC - Need You - 1/1 - RPS
Title: Need You
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: PG-13 at best
Characters/Pairings: John Barrowman/Gareth David-Lloyd, small mention of John/Scott Gill (if you blink you will miss it!)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: M/M, RPS
Length: 1/1, 1963 words (Complete)
Summary: shayasar prompted me with: John/Gareth cuddling on the couch towards the end of filming for TW Season Three, savoring their moments together, no smut needed, and some angst if I wanted it. I think I got all of that in the words I chose.
Disclaimer: Anything Torchwood related belongs to RTD and the BBC, unfortunately. Anything John Barrowman or Gareth David-Lloyd related belongs to JB and GDL respectively (though one might argue that JB belongs slightly to SG.) This is a work of fiction and lest we forget Fiction = False, Fake, Not Real (and any of those other handy dandy synonyms found in Webster’s big book.) No offense is meant to any of the parties represented.
Beta: Many thanks to luvinthe88and20 and thrace_adams for reading this for me!
A/N: I am still recovering from my dying hard drive and corrupted CD’s, slowly getting things re-written. I am hoping this small J/G piece can jumpstart the bunnies into action for my other RPS works. Thanks, as always, for reading.
(Gareth’s POV)
“You okay, Gaz?” He asks, brushing his fingers delicately along my bare back, down to the edge of my jeans and then returning their path upwards.
My head rests on John’s chest, bodies melting together on the couch in front of an open fire. Just being together, enjoying our time with each other. Time that was growing shorter with each tick of the clock.
“Mmm, fine,” I mumble into his warm skin, relishing in the feel of our naked chests pressing close. Clinging to that feeling.
“What are you thinking about?” He pries, not letting my comment drop, disturbing the peaceful moment we were having after a shared dinner and a long day of filming. And running. And driving. And getting blown up. Time spent wearing the armor of Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones. Being a facsimile of ourselves.
It’s stupid but I really don’t want to voice my concerns to John. They are petty and he will no doubt think I’m dumb for letting them run amok in my head.
Even though filming for season three of Torchwood will be over next weekend, I will still see John. I know I will. I keep telling myself that we will find a way.
Just how often is the question? He’ll be in Birmingham doing pantomime and although I can justify going once, maybe twice, it would look awful strange for a co-star to show up more than that. People know John and I are good friends and that he is my mentor in a lot of ways but no one outside of Scott is aware of the other side of our relationship.
The one which has moments like right now, John Barrowman resting below me, his arms secure around my upper body.
And for our sakes, no one can know that side. Hell, I am sure there are those that suspect it, but luckily for me John is such a flirt with everyone that it doesn’t look odd when he directs the innuendo towards me. Or kisses me. In public. In front of a room full of screaming Torchwood fans.
It’s all done for the masses. Nothing behind it. Give the fans a show. Play act like it’s just Ianto humoring his Captain. That it doesn’t mean anything. That he doesn’t turn me right on with just a glance. With a small touch of our hands, legs brushing against each other while sitting in metal chairs that could shoot off the sparks that have never failed to be there.
Yeah right. I am such a terrible liar. It all matters. Every little bit of him and our time together.
As his fingers graze over the base of my hair line, he whispers, “Gareth, talk to me.”
“It’s nothing, John,” I answer, knowing full well that there is no appeasing him. He’ll wring my concerns out of me before long. Wear me down until I confess how much I am going to miss him. How scared I am at times that if he is away from me for too long that he will realize what he has with me is not worth the risks.
“If you think any harder, they will probably hear you in the States,” he chuckles and sits us up a little. I am still resting on his chest, but his body is now propped up in the corner of the couch. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet all day. What’s wrong?”
Letting my lips drift gently over his skin, I offer quietly, “Kind of hard to compete for attention when you are around.” It is all done with a small smile on my face that I know John will be able to feel.
“We’ll find a way, Gareth.”
My head shoots up at his comment. “But how?” I ask. His features are echoing how I feel and I haven’t said a word aloud to him about it.
“You don’t think you are the only one who is going to miss someone are you?”
“No,” I mutter sitting up in-between his legs. That’s exactly how I have been feeling though. He will be so busy with the show and Scott will be with him quite a bit of the time. He won’t be alone.
“I know you took a whack on the head today, are you sure it was only acting?” John’s trademark smile is lighting up his face, his fingers lacing their way through the belt loops of my jeans, trying but failing to pull me back to him. “And you won’t even notice I’ll be gone anyway.”
My eyebrow arches up at his comment. Yeah, I have gigs with the band booked in the next couple of weeks, but other than that…nothing. Just time to notice what is missing.
Shit, I am really acting like an arse about all of this. John doesn’t need this from me. I’m supposed to be his fun release. His way to get unstressed from the cares of the world.
“I’m sorry,” I say, hanging my head to my chest, defeat entering my voice.
His fingers reach under my chin and lift it up to meet his gaze. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I just wish I would have realized sooner how much this was affecting you.”
“You don’t have to baby me, John. I’m a big boy.”
“Don’t I know that…”
Giving him a serious glare wipes the cheeky expression from his face and I continue, “You didn’t sign up for me acting like a wanker over something like this. Forget I said anything at all. I’ll be fine.” When my words finish I rise off the couch and reach for my t-shirt and hoodie that are lying on the chair next to us.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my flat. I think it’s for the best. You’ve got an early call in the morning.” Completely dressed, I grab my keys from the coffee table and start towards the door, knowing I am leaving a distressed John in my wake. Not knowing what to say to make the moment better. Messing shit up seems to be a reoccurring theme for me.
As I reach the door, I feel his strong hands rest on my hips. “Gareth, don’t go.”
If I turn around I will never walk out the door. Well, I will but it will be tomorrow morning.
Isn’t that what you want though, Gareth? To stay? Yes. However, the deeper I get into this, the harder it is to let go. John will never be fully mine and I accept that. Always have. It’s just hard sometimes.
Sighing, I turn to face John, who places his palm to my cheek. Without being prompted, I lean into his touch. I doubt he realizes how much control he has over me.
“We’ll figure something out. We always do. Unless you don’t want this anymore,” he says, his expression pleading and hesitant.
“I want you.”
“Then why are you running away from me?”
“I’m not… Okay, maybe I am. It’s just I’ve never had to do this before.”
“And I have?” He questions, smirking at me. “I may flirt and flounce around with a lot of people but outside of Scott, people don’t see the real me. The uncertain me.”
“I see him,” I reply, returning John’s gesture to me of placing my hand along his cheek, noting that he made the same indulgence as I did. Leaning into the contact. Allowing me a concession that he doesn’t make for everyone. Touching his face and neck.
With a slight pull, I bring John’s lips to mine and tenderly press in a kiss.
“But John, it’s more than just me seeing you,” I say once he has opened his eyes after our brief kiss and met my gaze again. “If we are going to do this…”
“If?”
I try not to sigh and then realize John is just as unsure about all of this as I am. Vulnerable. He has Scott though. Someone to fall back on when all of this comes crashing down around us. Because inevitably it will. Nothing good ever seems to last in my life. Better I be the only one to suffer and just end things now before I get in any deeper than I am.
Pulling away from John, I reach for the door handle and open it to the night beyond. “Maybe this is all just a mistake.”
He lets me take a few steps away from him before his hand slips into mine. “I can’t do this alone, Gareth.”
“You won’t have too.”
“But you will and I don’t want that. Don’t leave me.” John’s hand is squeezing tight to mine. Holding onto me like a lifeline.
“I need more John. I need you to see me too. Need you to need me.” And fuck all if I don’t sound like a cheap eighties rock song.
“If not letting you walk out of my door isn’t proof that I need you, that I see you, then I don’t know what is.”
“I just…”
“Dammit Gareth, I love you!”
The words hang between us like stony silence. Frozen in time. If I reach out I feel like I can almost touch them. Pull them down and put them in my pocket to remember days from now.
John isn’t one to just blurt out something he doesn’t mean. I can tell from the shock on his face that he did not expect to say what he did but that he honestly doesn’t regret it.
Hell, I honestly did not expect him to say it. I know that I love him, which is why this being away from him, this attempt to walk away from him, hurts so much.
“Say something, Gareth,” he begs me, worry and fear clouding his vision and filling his voice.
There are not words to express the emotions flowing around me. I let my body do my talking, bringing John to me after I close the door to the darkness. Hands, lips, skin, and fingers form the letters that my mouth fails to produce.
“Come to bed with me?” He asks in-between random kisses. Even though there is usually some type of ulterior motive behind words like those, John’s words are not implying them at the moment. He wants to be held. I want to be held. We will hold each other. Just like we were. Like we will need to do.
Letting him guide me towards the bedroom, hand firmly in his; I try to only think of positives. We’ve made this work so far. It’s been difficult and I am sure there will be more moments.
But at least we will give it a try.
Love is the only true adventure after all.
.
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: PG-13 at best
Characters/Pairings: John Barrowman/Gareth David-Lloyd, small mention of John/Scott Gill (if you blink you will miss it!)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: M/M, RPS
Length: 1/1, 1963 words (Complete)
Summary: shayasar prompted me with: John/Gareth cuddling on the couch towards the end of filming for TW Season Three, savoring their moments together, no smut needed, and some angst if I wanted it. I think I got all of that in the words I chose.
Disclaimer: Anything Torchwood related belongs to RTD and the BBC, unfortunately. Anything John Barrowman or Gareth David-Lloyd related belongs to JB and GDL respectively (though one might argue that JB belongs slightly to SG.) This is a work of fiction and lest we forget Fiction = False, Fake, Not Real (and any of those other handy dandy synonyms found in Webster’s big book.) No offense is meant to any of the parties represented.
Beta: Many thanks to luvinthe88and20 and thrace_adams for reading this for me!
A/N: I am still recovering from my dying hard drive and corrupted CD’s, slowly getting things re-written. I am hoping this small J/G piece can jumpstart the bunnies into action for my other RPS works. Thanks, as always, for reading.
(Gareth’s POV)
“You okay, Gaz?” He asks, brushing his fingers delicately along my bare back, down to the edge of my jeans and then returning their path upwards.
My head rests on John’s chest, bodies melting together on the couch in front of an open fire. Just being together, enjoying our time with each other. Time that was growing shorter with each tick of the clock.
“Mmm, fine,” I mumble into his warm skin, relishing in the feel of our naked chests pressing close. Clinging to that feeling.
“What are you thinking about?” He pries, not letting my comment drop, disturbing the peaceful moment we were having after a shared dinner and a long day of filming. And running. And driving. And getting blown up. Time spent wearing the armor of Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones. Being a facsimile of ourselves.
It’s stupid but I really don’t want to voice my concerns to John. They are petty and he will no doubt think I’m dumb for letting them run amok in my head.
Even though filming for season three of Torchwood will be over next weekend, I will still see John. I know I will. I keep telling myself that we will find a way.
Just how often is the question? He’ll be in Birmingham doing pantomime and although I can justify going once, maybe twice, it would look awful strange for a co-star to show up more than that. People know John and I are good friends and that he is my mentor in a lot of ways but no one outside of Scott is aware of the other side of our relationship.
The one which has moments like right now, John Barrowman resting below me, his arms secure around my upper body.
And for our sakes, no one can know that side. Hell, I am sure there are those that suspect it, but luckily for me John is such a flirt with everyone that it doesn’t look odd when he directs the innuendo towards me. Or kisses me. In public. In front of a room full of screaming Torchwood fans.
It’s all done for the masses. Nothing behind it. Give the fans a show. Play act like it’s just Ianto humoring his Captain. That it doesn’t mean anything. That he doesn’t turn me right on with just a glance. With a small touch of our hands, legs brushing against each other while sitting in metal chairs that could shoot off the sparks that have never failed to be there.
Yeah right. I am such a terrible liar. It all matters. Every little bit of him and our time together.
As his fingers graze over the base of my hair line, he whispers, “Gareth, talk to me.”
“It’s nothing, John,” I answer, knowing full well that there is no appeasing him. He’ll wring my concerns out of me before long. Wear me down until I confess how much I am going to miss him. How scared I am at times that if he is away from me for too long that he will realize what he has with me is not worth the risks.
“If you think any harder, they will probably hear you in the States,” he chuckles and sits us up a little. I am still resting on his chest, but his body is now propped up in the corner of the couch. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet all day. What’s wrong?”
Letting my lips drift gently over his skin, I offer quietly, “Kind of hard to compete for attention when you are around.” It is all done with a small smile on my face that I know John will be able to feel.
“We’ll find a way, Gareth.”
My head shoots up at his comment. “But how?” I ask. His features are echoing how I feel and I haven’t said a word aloud to him about it.
“You don’t think you are the only one who is going to miss someone are you?”
“No,” I mutter sitting up in-between his legs. That’s exactly how I have been feeling though. He will be so busy with the show and Scott will be with him quite a bit of the time. He won’t be alone.
“I know you took a whack on the head today, are you sure it was only acting?” John’s trademark smile is lighting up his face, his fingers lacing their way through the belt loops of my jeans, trying but failing to pull me back to him. “And you won’t even notice I’ll be gone anyway.”
My eyebrow arches up at his comment. Yeah, I have gigs with the band booked in the next couple of weeks, but other than that…nothing. Just time to notice what is missing.
Shit, I am really acting like an arse about all of this. John doesn’t need this from me. I’m supposed to be his fun release. His way to get unstressed from the cares of the world.
“I’m sorry,” I say, hanging my head to my chest, defeat entering my voice.
His fingers reach under my chin and lift it up to meet his gaze. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I just wish I would have realized sooner how much this was affecting you.”
“You don’t have to baby me, John. I’m a big boy.”
“Don’t I know that…”
Giving him a serious glare wipes the cheeky expression from his face and I continue, “You didn’t sign up for me acting like a wanker over something like this. Forget I said anything at all. I’ll be fine.” When my words finish I rise off the couch and reach for my t-shirt and hoodie that are lying on the chair next to us.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my flat. I think it’s for the best. You’ve got an early call in the morning.” Completely dressed, I grab my keys from the coffee table and start towards the door, knowing I am leaving a distressed John in my wake. Not knowing what to say to make the moment better. Messing shit up seems to be a reoccurring theme for me.
As I reach the door, I feel his strong hands rest on my hips. “Gareth, don’t go.”
If I turn around I will never walk out the door. Well, I will but it will be tomorrow morning.
Isn’t that what you want though, Gareth? To stay? Yes. However, the deeper I get into this, the harder it is to let go. John will never be fully mine and I accept that. Always have. It’s just hard sometimes.
Sighing, I turn to face John, who places his palm to my cheek. Without being prompted, I lean into his touch. I doubt he realizes how much control he has over me.
“We’ll figure something out. We always do. Unless you don’t want this anymore,” he says, his expression pleading and hesitant.
“I want you.”
“Then why are you running away from me?”
“I’m not… Okay, maybe I am. It’s just I’ve never had to do this before.”
“And I have?” He questions, smirking at me. “I may flirt and flounce around with a lot of people but outside of Scott, people don’t see the real me. The uncertain me.”
“I see him,” I reply, returning John’s gesture to me of placing my hand along his cheek, noting that he made the same indulgence as I did. Leaning into the contact. Allowing me a concession that he doesn’t make for everyone. Touching his face and neck.
With a slight pull, I bring John’s lips to mine and tenderly press in a kiss.
“But John, it’s more than just me seeing you,” I say once he has opened his eyes after our brief kiss and met my gaze again. “If we are going to do this…”
“If?”
I try not to sigh and then realize John is just as unsure about all of this as I am. Vulnerable. He has Scott though. Someone to fall back on when all of this comes crashing down around us. Because inevitably it will. Nothing good ever seems to last in my life. Better I be the only one to suffer and just end things now before I get in any deeper than I am.
Pulling away from John, I reach for the door handle and open it to the night beyond. “Maybe this is all just a mistake.”
He lets me take a few steps away from him before his hand slips into mine. “I can’t do this alone, Gareth.”
“You won’t have too.”
“But you will and I don’t want that. Don’t leave me.” John’s hand is squeezing tight to mine. Holding onto me like a lifeline.
“I need more John. I need you to see me too. Need you to need me.” And fuck all if I don’t sound like a cheap eighties rock song.
“If not letting you walk out of my door isn’t proof that I need you, that I see you, then I don’t know what is.”
“I just…”
“Dammit Gareth, I love you!”
The words hang between us like stony silence. Frozen in time. If I reach out I feel like I can almost touch them. Pull them down and put them in my pocket to remember days from now.
John isn’t one to just blurt out something he doesn’t mean. I can tell from the shock on his face that he did not expect to say what he did but that he honestly doesn’t regret it.
Hell, I honestly did not expect him to say it. I know that I love him, which is why this being away from him, this attempt to walk away from him, hurts so much.
“Say something, Gareth,” he begs me, worry and fear clouding his vision and filling his voice.
There are not words to express the emotions flowing around me. I let my body do my talking, bringing John to me after I close the door to the darkness. Hands, lips, skin, and fingers form the letters that my mouth fails to produce.
“Come to bed with me?” He asks in-between random kisses. Even though there is usually some type of ulterior motive behind words like those, John’s words are not implying them at the moment. He wants to be held. I want to be held. We will hold each other. Just like we were. Like we will need to do.
Letting him guide me towards the bedroom, hand firmly in his; I try to only think of positives. We’ve made this work so far. It’s been difficult and I am sure there will be more moments.
But at least we will give it a try.
Love is the only true adventure after all.
.