Title: Alcohol, Retcon, and Sex
By: Ffeona 'sarcasm-is-my-drug
Pairing: Ianto/Owen
Rating: AO
Disclaimer: Nope. Not me. Guess again.
Summary: Ianto has been retconned (is now called Gareth) but continued to live his life in Cardiff. It wasn't long before he came into contact with another Torchwood member; Owen Harper.

***

1. GARETH
The club was packed, full of laugher and warmth. Gareth Nye, a lanky, twenty-two-year-old brunet with beautiful pale blue eyes, was surrounded by friends. One nudged him about three hours into the evening when already a few of them had left the post-graduation gathering. "Hey mate, that guy at the bar has been eyeing you up all night." Paul told him drawing Gareth's eyes to the skinny brunet sitting at the bar, an empty shot glass abandoned near by and a pint sat in front of him, barely half full. The man immediately averted his eyes when Gareth looked over.
Gareth's intoxicated brain decided then and there than the brown eyed brunet in the black leather jacket was entirely fuckable. And of course, in the way of all drunks, he had to act on it. So, when half an hour later Gareth had observed the other man still looking at him, he decided to confront the man.
He sauntered up to him, carefully noticing the way the other man now avoided him completely. Until he spoke. "Do you want to fuck me or something?"

2. OWEN
He'd come to the club to chill. To relax. To let the alcohol numb him until he felt a blissful nothing. Since Jack ran off six months ago things had gone from worse to strength to worse and back again. The term 'good day' had taken on a new meaning. Gwen was attempting to balance her role as team-leader with planning a wedding, Tosh was running programmes in order to predict rift opening and also taking on a bigger role in field work as well as finding new ways to catalogue information for efficiently. Owen was the field work expert and best with weapons and obviously the team doctor. And now they had lost Ianto it was all the more harder.
But tonight, here in this bar somewhere in Cardiff between the Hub and Owen's flat, Owen had spotted the guy. Tall, lanky even, with neatly cut brown hair which was missing its usual dose of gel and had curled on top of his head. He was clothed in tight black jeans and a blue unbuttoned shirt revealing a white t-shirt with a band insignia on it. He looked to be in his early twenties but Owen knew his eyes were older. He looked to be laughing but Owen knew it wouldn't last. Especially if he noticed Owen.
But God hates human beings (otherwise he wouldn't have invented hangovers) so Owen's eyes were drawn to the man all night long. And eventually, a little drunkenly, the man came over and announced, "Do you want to fuck me or something?"
Owen's eyes widened and he thanked the human-hating god that he hadn't been drinking at that moment or his drink would have ended up all over the bar. He was tempted to say 'or something' and disappear into the night enigmatically but he wasn't Jack bloody Harkness and really he had no desire to be. Truth was he honestly hadn't been thinking about fucking him, but now the idea was lodged into his brain no matter how bad the idea was, how dangerous, and deceitful. How unforgivable. So instead he took another manly gulp of beer and said, "What makes you think I want to fuck you?" He said it because he was stupid. He really was. Looking at his track history... the guy he fucked in hospital that got him fired, fucking Suzie-the-psycho, fucking Gwen and fucking himself up over Diane. All stupid fucking things. And here he was, about to do it again.
The man pouted - he actually pouted! "Are you saying you don't?" He asked, taking a sip of Owen's beer cheekily.
Wow.
Unexpected. It was unexpected because Owen was still thinking of this man as the man he'd taunted and demeaned for three years instead of the man who'd been created.
"I have a place about ten minutes from here." Owen said, sealing his fate.
The guy smiled. "I'm Gareth." He said. I know, Owen wanted to stay. Instead he smiled and brought his lips to meet 'Gareth's', hungrily kissing the man.
"Nice to meet you, Gareth."

They fucked until five in the morning and finally Gareth fell asleep, mumbling something about how unpleasantly sticky he'd be in the morning and how he'd left a cup on the table, where were the coasters! Owen couldn't sleep, though. his thoughts plagued by memories of the first few weeks after Jack had left, as he watched the man sleep, innocence incarnate.

FLASHBACK
"Oh my God. What have you done, Owen!" Screamed Gwen shrilly.
"Please, tell me you know how to reverse it," Tosh begged.
"Well, it's not like I killed him or anything!" Owen protested.
They were all looking at Ianto in shock. Still dressed immaculately in a black suit with his purple tie and blue shirt, but it no longer fit perfectly. He'd lost about a stone of weight and oh, five or six years off his age. Ianto looked at himself. "At least we know what it does now." He said quite calmly.
They stared at him, gob-smacked he could be so calm.
"Yes, you're right, it's like I've died." He said dryly. "I've only regressed a few years physically. I'm still alive, I still have my memories." He sounded irritated about the last bit.
They worked with the device for a few more days until Ianto came to visit Owen one night while he was pouring over Ianto's blood tests.
"It won't kill me, will it?" Ianto asked quietly.
Owen shook his head. "You are as healthy as a horse. More healthy because most horses haven't got an extra six years on them."
"Retcon me." Ianto said. Owen nearly dropped the glass vial he'd been holding.
"What!"
"I want you to Retcon me. I've already complied a new identity and put everything into place. My name will be Gareth Nye and I'll be a soon-t-be graduating student of Cardiff university, and the reason no one knows me is because I'm an open university student. Technically it's not a lie. I have been doing an open uni curse since Lisa died."
"Why? I mean, we haven't even figured out how to change you back!" Owen said.
Ianto smiled sadly. "And you won't figure it out. It doesn't matter anyway, it's easier to create a false past for a few years than for six or seven years. And I'd hate to have amnesia, it would only stimulate me to discover my own past."
"You shouldn't do this."
"I will. With or without your help." He held out a needle towards him. It was filled with eight ml of a glucose solution which would simulate the affects of a hangover when he woke up. It was laced with retcon.
Owen nodded. "Is it Jack?"
"It's Torchwood." Ianto replied.
Understanding, Owen took the needle and plunged it into Ianto's sink.

END OF FLASHBACK

Owen still wasn't sure he'd done the right thing, but Ianto/Gareth had been happy tonight. Until Owen.

3. GARETH
He woke at eight-fifteen on the Saturday morning thinking 'fuck, what God invented hangovers'. Looking at the man next to him, who he assumed was sleeping, he rolled out of the bed and quietly picked up his clothing before dressing and exiting the flat. He felt odd, like he was trying to think of something, a memory that was buried, but the pain in his head was stopping him.
He really wanted a shower.

4. OWEN
He listened to the younger man as he dressed and left then sighed. Fuck it, he'd screwed up again. But he couldn't yet tell if it would come back to haunt him or not.

Tell me what you think.
It's not over, there is more to come.

***

GARETH/Ianto:
His head still ached and he felt irritable for the next few days, prone to snapping at people and mood swings. He felt like he had no friends, no past because he couldn't remember this thing, this itch! Screaming to get out but it was on mute. And it was all that guys fault.

OWEN
It was another three days before Owen ran into Ianto the kid hadn't left his thoughts for long and the girls had started to notice a change in his behaviour, teasing him about "who 'she' was'. Well he could hardly say 'he's six foot two, twenty-one, and our ex-co-worker'; so he said nothing. And now he was so desperate to escape from under the watchful eyes of Tosh and Gwen that he had volunteered - fucking volunteered - to go down to Starbucks to get the mid-morning coffees in.

Half an hour later he finally got to the front of the cue and found that Ianto, or should he say Gareth?, was serving him.

"Can I help you, sir?" Gareth/Ianto asked him stiffly. Owen wanted to laugh out loud at the irony of it - a few weeks ago Owen was the last person Ianto would ever have called 'sir' even when he had regressed making the age gap between them twelve years instead of six. Looking at him now made Owen feel old and even more dirty. He had to hide a bitter smile.

"Two coffees; one with cream no sugar, one with milk and three sugars. One cappuccino soya no milk one sugar. To go.. And drop the 'sir', ta." Owen ordered curtly.

Some emotion flickered into Ianto's eyes but disappeared before Owen could identify it. "Sorry, never did catch your name." he muttered before speaking louder. "Small, large, or... average?" Ianto asked and Owen wanted to smile. The old Ianto was still in there somewhere - the heavy innuendo threaded through the most innocent of sentences, and, of course, the carefully directed insult in Owen's direction.

"Better make it three larges. It looks like it'll be an all nighter."

"Think you'll need more than a large coffee for that. Or is yours the cappuccino?" Ianto said with a quirk of a delicate eyebrow.

Owen got annoyed at this very quickly. Sarcastic-witty-dry Ianto caffeine depleted Owen punching. It was this which made Owen remember why they'd never gotten along in the first place. Obviously the cure was to either fill Ianto up with alcohol or for them to separate, but that made Owen feel like a child sent to the corner for bad behaviour when really it was the other kid (Ianto)'s fault all along. He stayed - partially to spite Ianto, partially to spite the little voice in his head, and partially because he really did need some coffee and he'd slept with half the employees of Costa and therefore could never go back in there without being slapped or having his coffee spat in.

"And you trying to imply something?" Owen asked, chucking some cash onto the counter as Ianto filled the drinks.

"Subtlety not your strong point." he stated dryly, then added, "you're short."

"You're trying to imply I'm short?" Owen asked confused. Ianto rolled his eyes.

"You're short two quid." he gestured towards the money.

Owen smiled sarcastically and pulled out a fiver. "Keep the change. You'll need it if you're going to pay off your university fees working here."

"How do you know I was at uni?" Ianto asked sharply causing Owen to freeze.

"That was your lot celebrating your graduation at the pub, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Ianto agrees uncertainly and Owen felt his eyes burning a whole in his back as he left the coffee shop drinks in his hands. As soon as he turned the corner he popped the lid of his coffee cup and inhaled deeply before taking a gulp. It scorched his throat but Owen didn't care - it tasted exactly like coffee should, like Ianto's coffee. He closed his eyes tightly against the threat of tears, telling himself it was only due to the scald but he knew he was lying. Sighing he pulled himself together starting down the street towards the hub muttering "stop being such a fucking woman, Owen you twat."

***

3. Your Taste Still Haunts Me

Owen arrived back at the Hub less than an hour later well aware that he'd been gone a long time considering Starbucks was a ten minute walk from the Hub's invisible lift entrance; and that was if you were walking slow.

"Where've you been?" Gwen asked in her lilting Welsh accent as he put her coffee in front of her. He suddenly realised that her voice was very annoying, it hadn't been when they first met or when they were shagging, or even just a few weeks ago but suddenly it sounded entirely too… feminine.

"Getting coffee. Tosh your piss-taker of a coffee is here!" he yelled.

"Where's yours?" The irritatingly observant Tosh said as she appeared from the kitchenette - what used to be solely Ianto's domain.

"Drank it." Owen answered shortly.

"Got any change?" Gwen asked. It had been her day to pay and she'd given him a tenner to get their drinks.

"Nah. Think the guy over charged us." Owen said. £12:50 for two coffees and a fucking cup of froth? He really should stop sleeping with coffee shop staff Owen reflected wryly.

There was a quiet lull of alien activity during which paperwork and tidying up was done, and Owen also managed to make an army of origami soldiers using a website on paper folding. At exactly 7:15pm Gwen yelled up "We've got a case! Everyone gear up." And the three of them ran to the SUV.

By the time they reached their destination the alien in question had already left leaving behind a very shaken and bruised Ianto.

"Hello? I'm Gwen Cooper, from Torchwood. We're special ops. Are you alright?" She asked softly, her body language was uncomfortable though, having to talk to Ianto like he was a stranger, and the risk of him remembering. Owen wanted to tell her that if Gareth hadn't remembered he was Ianto after meeting Owen, or after their encounter in the coffee shop, then he wasn't going to remember by being questioned by Gwen! But of course he didn't. He'd have to admit it then.

Ianto/Gareth slowly raised his head, his steady blue eyes meeting Gwen's empathetic ones.

"Yes." He said.

"Can you tell me what happened here?" She asked, sitting next to him on the ground outside the Starbucks Owen had visited earlier.

Instead of answering, Ianto turned to Gwen and said bleakly, "this isn't the first time something like this has happened to me is it?" It almost wasn't a question but still Gwen didn't know how to answer him (did Jack really hire her for her 'people skills'? Owen thought sceptically).

Owen finally approached, not much else he could do, inside there was a corpse and another person who'd been taken to the emergency room at St David's. Owen made sure his medical equipment was visible hoping not to freak Gareth/Ianto out any more than he had to.

"I need to check you out." He said, almost mumbling.

"Thought you already had." Ianto answered without thinking. His eyes snapped up to meet Owen's and suddenly there was a flare of recognition full of anger and pain and something indescribable (the same nameless thing he'd seen before) and his eyes lit up just as his fist propelled Owen backwards to the ground.

"Ow." Wanker had punched him - and Owen wasn't totally unsure it was undeserved. Taking a deep breath he stood up and tried to approach again, carefully. This time Ianto let him, and Owen discovered that apart from having mild concussion and a few bruises the only real damage was metal, not physical. But he'd need someone to stay with him for the night.

"We could call a friend for you?" Gwen offered - all heart, no brains Owen thought meanly.

"I'll take care of him." Owen announced to Gwen surprise. Ianto however, just gave him this very old, very wary, very Ianto-look that said 'I know what you're thinking but I won't tell anyone, not even you.' Of course that could just be Owen's paranoia.

"But… I mean there must be someone? What about Tosh?" Gwen said.

"Tosh is going to have enough work creating a cover story for this and I have medical training. It makes sense." Owen told her firmly.

"But-" Gwen began, only to be cut off abruptly by Ianto/Gareth.

"I'm going with him."

TOSH - inside the coffee shop.

She stared around the wreckage. The smell of coffee was overwhelming except for the tangy sent of blood. Two victims, one was already being driven to a hospital whereas the other now belonged to Torchwood. One Bethan Lloyd, a twenty-eight year old mother trying to supplement the family income in order to provide for her two year old son and seven year old twins. Her body was… definitely a close casket affair, Tosh couldn't help but think morbidly.

Then she stopped seeing it through Torchwood's black tinted specs and opened her eyes as if she was an actual functioning human being who didn't see death every day - and she cried. All this pain and despair and blood, Ianto's younger self had witnessed all this. They had tried to keep him away and still the carnage came. He hadn't been this young during his first blood bath, and the fact that in his second chance he only came face to face with this earlier was enough to make even the most stern hearted wretches cry. A nearby officer noticed and came over.

"You alright, miss? Is it the blood, it can have that affect." He said, his voice full of concern but Tosh knew he wasn't really affected by what he saw - he too saw death too often.

"It's not this. It's… life." She said feeling stupid as he cocked an eyebrow and turned away. Oh God, Ianto's life. She thought privately.

OWEN

"Are you gonna fuck me again?" Ianto asked drowsily as Owen manhandled him into his apartment. Owen rolled his eyes.

"Why is it always about sex with you?" Owen asked, recognising the irony of the situation.

"Dunno." Ianto said, sounding as if he'd thought long and hard about it. Afte a pause he continued. "I don't think it was before."

"Before what?" Owen asked, scared Ianto was going to say something like 'before I met you'. That would be too warped, even for him.

"Before I forgot." He finished, eyes boring holes into Owen's head as he helped Ianto remove his clothing and clime into bed.

"You know you sound crazy right now." Owen tried to shrug it off.

Ianto half smiled in his sleep. "About as crazy as an agency that chases aliens…" and then he's asleep and Owen's alone, looking at the contrast of youth and the innocence of sleep when behind those baby blue eyes was hidden layers of darkness.

***

Part Four: My Skin Remembers Yours

While Ianto slept, Owen wondered around his flat which was still pretty empty. It was small, just the three rooms; bedroom with en suit and a reasonably sized living room that opened up to a kitchenette which Owen was not surprised to see the main feature of was an expensive coffee machine. Little else existed, a photograph of Ianto as a child rested on the mantle piece, a faked newspaper article telling the ordeal of two year old 'Gareth Nye' being orphaned was framed and put on the wall near a book case, and a graduation ceremony collage piece hung in his bedroom. The flat smelt like fresh paint and coffee.

It was about 11:43pm when Ianto stirred, waking. This time he seemed far less groggy and seemed to be staring at Owen as if he were a complicated mathematical problem that he was having trouble solving but knew he would crack sooner or later. It made Owen feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Stop it." He said, childishly.

"Stop what?" Ianto replied, equally as childish but in his calm voice which somehow managed to make him seem mature even when he wasn't. Owen glared. Ianto gave a soft smirk that Owen could only just make out in the dim light.

"You know you'll get lines if you frown." Ianto pointed out.

"Look, mate, I don't need to worry about lines. Especially if I can still attract young twenty-somethings like yourself!" Owen pointed out triumphantly. Ianto raised an eyebrow expressively.

"I was drunk." He protested.

"You're not drunk now." Owen said, his voice lowering.

"No," Ianto rasped, "I'm not."

They were both breathing a little faster, not over dramatically but enough that they knew where this was heading. Owen edged closer to the bed and waited for Ianto to make the first move, when the younger man pulled back the covers Owen slipped inside and brought his lips to Ianto, kissing deeply and passionately but not violently. This wasn't a contest. Owen wasn't angry anymore, he was turned on. He wasn't desperate or drunk or trying to feel alive, for the first time in a very long time Owen was making love.

Ianto groaned into the kiss and pressed his mostly-naked body closer to Owen's muttering something about 'too many clothes', Owen bit back a smile as they joined forces to tare off hi jeans and t-shirt and threw them on to the floor.
Looking into each other's eyes they both removed their boxers at the same time, a sort of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' attitude. And then it was all ragged breathing and clammy hands grasping each other as if they were trying to pull one another inside. Owen kissed Ianto only stopping to breath as Ianto fumbled with a tube of lubricant which had been stored in the bedside table underneath a Bible.
"You need to get your priorities straight, mate." Owen told him.
Ianto sighed. "Think about it, who's likely to pick up a Bible from a bedside drawer and think 'isn't that interesting'?" Ianto told him smartly.
"No one I'd have in my bedroom." Owen informed him and the tension was thick with lust. Ianto squirted some lube into his warm palm and his hand disappeared beneath the sheet.
"Ah!" Owen gasped as Ianto slid his hand up and down his cock, slowly. Too slowly. Owen started to shift and thrust only Ianto moved on top of him straddling him, still moving incredibly slow.
"PleasePleasePleasePleasePlea-" Owen moaned, unable to move from Ianto's surprisingly firm weight pressing him down.
Ianto smiled darkly and the part of Owen's brain which was still functioning (the very small part: Ianto had extremely nimble fingers and the few calluses on his hands only increased the friction and caused Owen to groan with impatience) thought maybe there was a small part of the old Ianto in there somewhere, enjoying having Owen completely at his mercy. This all stopped when Ianto abruptly let go causing Owen to groan loud enough for the neighbours to hear and Ianto repositioned himself before slowly - ever so frustratingly slowly - took him inside, pausing to let himself adjust. All Owen could do was pant and moan and pray. Ianto started thrusting and soon Owen was rising up to meet him, both of them sweaty and panting and groaning together, moving to the same tempo. Owen realised Ianto was still controlling the movements but didn't care as he tossed and bucked and came, shooting into the condom he hadn't even noticed he was wearing. Ianto followed a second later, stilling and letting his lashes flutter in the aftermath of their passion. Owen found himself strangely glad to have come first so he could witness Ianto's face exactly like that. It was usually a competition - even more so with blokes - who can hold out the longest. But like he'd thought earlier, this was love making and he was going soft in the head.
Ianto rolled off his, disposing of the condom, and lay down. Soon they were both asleep (or so Owen presumed).
But next to him lay Ianto, his mind going a thousand a second, catching up, figuring out.

Everything.

Morning came. Light infiltrating the half open curtains. Owen groaned. He hated mornings. Plus, he was still sweaty and the bed he lay in smelt strongly of sex and cum. His lashes fluttered open.

"You called out Ianto when you came." Ianto/Gareth said. Fuck! Owen jumped and turned to face the other man. He still looked unreasonably young but instead of the jeans and tight t's he wore a perfect suit; black with a pale pink shirt underneath and a purple tie. A cup of steaming coffee was held in his hand which he pushed towards Owen.
"Sorry?" Owen said meekly. An apology with Ianto/Gareth ignored as if it was never muttered.
"It was the final catalyst." Ianto said, because it was Ianto, the old Ianto. And Owen was in his bed - naked, drinking coffee. This was not a good thing. Owen really hated morning.
"You remember." Owen said.
"Everything." Ianto agreed.

***

Part 5.

It's just not the same anymore.

"You don't have to do this, you know, they don't realise you've remembered. You could live a normal life." Owen said as they stood outside of the tourist information centre that led into Torchwood 3. "Especially not at this time in the morning." Owen sniffed, trying to lighten the mood. Ianto rolled his eyes but kept staring at the building intently.

"Owen, it's eight o'clock."

Owen shrugged uncomfortably. This was nearly as hard for Owen as it was for Ianto. "Still morning, isn't it."

"Come along then." Ianto said, pulling Owen by his arm. Secretly Owen was glad, it meant Ianto was still comfortable with touching him. He'd been scared that Ianto would freak out - that he'd think Owen had been taking advantage of Gareth's ignorance.

They walked into the Hub and it was like Ianto had never left. He snuck into the main area and the girls took a few minutes to realise he didn't belong there. At first there was questions, how, why, when. Ianto just shrugged them off, saying he remembered shortly after being attacked. No one thought to question why Ianto and Owen had arrived together but Owen could see it in their eyes. Soon Ianto was pouring coffee and they were off again, chasing down aliens and petty thieves along the way. Ianto got injured, a small knife wound in his upper arm. They thought for sure that he 'd tell them all to fuck Torchwood it wasn't worth it but instead he did his job and promptly sat on Owen's autopsy table when he told him to.

"You'll need a few stitches with that." Owen told him as he cleaned the wound. Ianto just sat there staring at him. The girls were watching and while Owen had no idea, Ianto did.

They were touching like lovers without even realising it. Owen's hand resting comfortably on Ianto's thigh and he was standing between Ianto's legs with Ianto's foot stroking the side of Owen's leg. It was unmistakable and the girls watched, gobsmacked.

"You are avoiding meeting my eyes." Ianto informed Owen bluntly which, of course as it was intended, forced Owen to meet Ianto's eyes.

"Never bothered you before." He said.

"Yeah. Odd thing that. We hadn't… before." Ianto said dryly.

"You sound like a woman." Owen said angrily, he was uncomfortable dealing with stuff like this.

"Right. Oh how could you Owen! I feel so betrayed, I can hardly look at you. I loved you blah de blah blah. You are right, I'm so female." Ianto said.

"Did you." Owen asked quickly. Ianto knew what he meant. Did he love him? Had Gareth loved Owen? Because it hadn't just been sex.

"I miss Jack." Ianto told him and Owen lost all hope inside. "But not as much as I thought I would. Not now I have you and Torchwood."

Fuck. "Have me? Like I'm your property." Owen said, half teasing.

Ianto smiled a wide goofy smile before bringing Owen's mouth to meet his own. "Prat." He said.

Owen raised an eyebrow. "Tosser."

"Idiot."

"Tea boy."

"Meatball surgeon." Ianto countered.

"Arse."

"You bet." And they kissed again.

"Aw! Look how cute they are." Tosh said, putting aside her own feelings that deep down she was a little hurt Owen could find it in himself to love Tosh but loved Ianto.

"Yeah." Gwen agreed, slightly weird-ed out herself. Didn't Owen like girls? Didn't Ianto love Jack?

"Stop perving on us!" Owen yelled up.

"Do some work." Ianto added, before the CCTV footage of the morgue went down.

"Oh."

"Oh. Oh indeed."

***