Owen couldn't do it. He shook his head, trying not to moan when Ianto touches his head like that. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. He bit his lip, hard, stifling any sounds he might have been making. At least then he wanted to cry out in pain, not pleasure.
"Can't. Soap," he mumbled. "Don't want it in my eyes."
It was a crap excuse and they both knew it. He was sure Ianto was comparing him to Jack in his mind. Was he bigger? Doubtful. Was he in better shape? Doubtful.