Owen prided himself on being really bloody good at his Job. So when on the rare occasion he was faced with a moment like this…well he’d rather pretend moments like this didn’t happen. That was difficult to do when Curt kept screaming at him as they fought for their lives.
“What the fuck Owen, what the fuck Owen”
It had happened so quickly. One moment Curt was lining up his shot. His jaw flexed as he concentrated, but his hands were impeccably steady. The next moment a sentinel was yelling and hitting the alarm. Ok, Ok so Owen had gotten a little too distracted watching Curt and it had taken that split second of distraction for a guard to raise the alarm. Consequently the target they had come to assassinate had ducked for cover before Curt could get his shot off. And yes now they were fighting their way out of a top-secret Colombian facility. It was a mortifying slip and not one he would usually make, mistakes like that were Curt’s forte. Of course when Curt was distracted by his libido it was typically intentional. Owen wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. Ah maybe that was the key. Act like it was intentional.
“Thought you could use the challenge” Owen shouted over the mayhem as he swerved to avoid a punch and stepped backwards as a body Curt felled landed at his feet. “Wouldn’t want things to get too boring.”
There! It was all too easy to draw out the twinkle in Curt’s eye. He didn’t even question it. “Who do you think can rack up the most hits before we get out of here,” Curt glanced at his watch casually, shifting slightly to the left so Owen could shoot at someone over his shoulder. “In what do you think…twenty minutes?”
God Owen could really appeal anything to Curt’s sense of ego couldn’t he? But the gauntlet had been thrown. “Make it fifteen,” he said returning Curt’s grin even as they were forced backwards towards the ledge of the walkway they were on.
“Atta boy” Curt grinned letting off two consecutive shots “ten it is”
Under Curt’s cover Owen slid down the ladder, clearing the way as Curt jumped down next to him.
“What about the target?” Owen asked as they ran, putting as much distance between themselves and the hostile guards as they could. Curt was a few steps ahead of him and Owen was alarmed to realize he was leading them deeper into the facility, not towards the exit.
“How do you think he feels about explosions?” Curt retorted over his shoulder.
They skidded to a stop and took cover in a hidden alcove as more sentinels swept past. Curt reached deep into his pocket and tossed a small round disk at him.
“What’s this?” Owen said lowly, turning it over in his palm
“Miniature Ka’pow” Curt answered “courtesy of Barb. She’s got more firepower than you think.”
“Curt there’s no way this is enough to blow the whole facility” Owen scoffed tossing it back.
“Owen” Curt said clapping him on the shoulder, his excitement a manic thing now “The alarm is tripped right?”
“Yes” Owen tensed wondering if he was going to draw attention to whose fault that was.
“So the target” he said mockingly “will be moved to the panic room. We definitely have enough fire power for one little room”
Owen hesitated even has the idea took hold in his head “Are you insane? The security in that area is going to be incredibly heavy.”
“Oh come on” Curt teased, “You could use the challenge” then in one fluid movement he pushed Owen down onto his knees and shot out into the hall. “Looks like the voting booth is closed, and majority rules.” He was off again and Owen had no choice but to follow him, loudly insisting that you couldn’t have a majority with only two people.
Everything hurt. Owen would have given his left leg for a bath, but the hotel their agencies had sprung for was shittier than usual, it only had a tiny shower and Owen didn’t like his chances with the hot water situation. They were sweaty, bloody and arm in arm as they crossed the threshold. Curt was laughing into the COM on his wrist as Cynthia chewed him out.
“Remind me again Mega” Cynthia snaps, “What the mission briefing said?”
“Stay Covert” Curt replied, steering them towards the edge of the bed and sinking down onto it with a satisfied groan. As pleasing as that looked one of them had to check the room for bugs before they let their guard down.
“Oh” Cynthia countered as if she was talking to a particularly obtuse toddler “Oh that’s fucking right! A covert mission! So remind me again, what the fuck that was?”
“We got the job done, why does it matter?”
Owen felt another twinge of guilt. Curt continued to neglect the reason their cover was blown and he seemed entirely unconcerned with the fact that his boss was viciously chewing him out for it. He untied his laces, making a face at Owen for his own amusement as Cynthia continued to rant.
“Mega are you fucking listening to me?”
“Gotta go Cynthia” Curt finally cuts in
“Don’t you fucking dare-”
He hung up on her.
If Owen did that to his boss he probably wouldn’t have a job to go back to in the morning. Americans.
“Jesus Owen, sit down! You need to get that leg bandaged.”
Owen huffs but he’s finished his sweep so he obliges
The room is silent for a while as Curt busies himself rooting around the room for supplies. He comes back to the bed with the things needed to wrap Owen’s thigh and a bottle of whiskey. He takes a swig and then offers the bottle to Owen. Owen accepts it without complaint. He’s starting to feel all his injuries a little more intensely than he’d like to.
“Alright pants off doll”
Owen rolls his eyes “Don’t think this means I’m easy” he says mostly because he knows it’ll amuse Curt. It does.
“I definitely know that baby, you threatened to shoot me the first time I came on to you, remember?” Curt grins fondly at the memory.
Owen remembers. After figuring out Curt’s genuine sincerity he had thought (not for the first time) that Curt was wholly too undaunted when faced with life threatening situations.
“You deserved it” Owen mutters taking another mouthful of whiskey and letting the burn distract him from the way Curt was methodically removing his pants and inspecting the wound on his thigh. “We were in public. Anyone could have heard you-” he broke off to let out a low hiss of pain.
“Sorry, sorry!” Curt murmurs as he bathes the area. He places a gentle kiss against Owen’s skin, just below the wound and Owen closes his eyes. When he opens them again Curt is finished. Owen offers him the whiskey back and Curt takes a long draw from the bottle like he is a man dying of thirst.
Owen brushes a stray curl of hair out of Curt’s eyes “I’m sorry”
This seems to surprise Curt. “What for?”
“Don’t play stupid, the security alert was my fault. We almost didn’t make it out of there”
Curt rolled his eyes like Owen was being ridiculous, which was irritating. He must have seen the annoyance cross his face because he held up his hand
“Ok, ok maybe it was your fault on a technicality or something, but Owen shit like that is just part of the job, you know that, anything can happen when you’re out on the field.”
Owen frowned; he wanted to argue the point because, no things like that didn’t just happen if you did your job properly but he was tired and Curt was letting him off the hook so he conceded.
“I suppose you’re right” Owen allowed
“You’re damn right I’m right. Now I’m going to take a piss and a shower, you need anything else before I go?”
Owen smiles despite himself and taps his lips. Curt smirks and leans in to capture his mouth. Owen huffs out an exasperated laugh as Curt exuberantly continues to pepper kisses along his jaw and against his temple, stopping only to finally press the last one against his hairline.
“Get the fuck out of here” Owen says giving him a shove “You smell like shit”
“You love it” Curt insists impishly but he moves to the bathroom.
Owen settles himself into the mattress and lets himself relax, drifting to the sounds of taps gurgling and Curt swearing as he steps under the spray. Owen snorts, no hot water just like he thought. He hadn’t meant to doze for more than a few minutes but when he wakes up again he can tell hours have passed, he almost feels worse. The light in the room is low and soft, Curt is sitting in the only chair in the room, he’s dragged it to the tiny smudgy window, which he’s managed to crack open. He’s taking a long drag from a cigarette and tapping ash out onto the windowsill.
“Are there any vices you don’t have?” Owen croaks sitting up slightly and running a hand through his hair, he’s sure its terribly mused from his impromptu nap. Curt’s eyes follow his movements and he smirks.
“I only keep to the really good ones” he jokes.
Something about Curt just then, relaxed in a t-shirt and boxers, bathed in a warm golden glow, with smoke curling around him, broke Owen’s heart. Unable to continue looking at him Owen quickly slides off the bed.
“I’m going to shower,” he mutters
“Need any help?” Curt asks, genuine and soft.
“No I got it” Owen replies his voice coming out harder than he means it to, suddenly he’s just so angry. The shower is terrible but at least it rids him of the sweat and grime. He has to rewrap his leg alone and he’s nowhere near as gentle with himself as Curt was.
Owen is supposed to be a master of disguise but he has no idea how Curt can act like he does. Like what they have is normal or easy or without consequence. Mostly he thinks he’s angry because sometimes Curt really is too soft for this line of work. And privately, Owen is terrified about the day something happens that is too much and it swallows Curt whole.
There is a tentative knock. Owen knows he’s been in here too long.
“I’m fine Mega”
“Mega?” Curt calls through the door, “Am I in trouble?”
Owen winces, typical Curt. Not allowing him the dignity of distance, even metaphorically.
“No your not in-“ Owen lets out an agitated breath and unlocks the door so they’re face to face “trouble”
Curt tilts his head, considering something. After a moment he seems to have his answer. He reaches out and tugs Owen’s hand into his own.
“Come on. I want to go to bed”
“Curt no I-”
“Not like that” Curt rolls his eyes “I’m fucking exhausted and you need to chill out.”
Suddenly incapable of feeling anything but bone deep weariness he lets Curt drag him back to bed. Curt has killed the light so it’s dark and quiet. For a few minutes Owen can believe that nothing outside of this room exists. Curt has wasted no time draping himself over Owen’s chest and it's easy for their breathing to fall into sync, before he even realises it Owen finds himself relaxing into the mattress again.
“Hey” Curt says into the darkness “I want you to know I lo-”
“Don’t,” Owen says but he pulls Curt closer, tighter.
“Yeah but I-”
“Curt” If Owen has learned anything today it’s that his feelings for Curt have the potential to become a very dangerous liability.
“For fuck sake. The ceiling isn’t going to fall in if you hear this”
“It might” Owen disagrees lowly; he couldn’t believe Curt was trying to pry down his last bastion of defense.
“Cut the bullshit. Life is short, you find shit you like and you grab it by the balls all right? I’m not going to pussyfoot around worrying about shit outside of my control. I fucking love you, I’ll say it whenever the fuck I want and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Owen rolls over so suddenly that Curt lets out a huff of surprise at finding himself pinned.
“You’re a cocky presumptuous asshole you know that?” Owen was breathless and indignant and Curt’s words had lit a blazing fire in his chest.
“Listing my best qualities? You forgot handsome and good in bed,” Curt sounded smug and all too pleased with himself.
“Arrogant” Owen counters pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth “Impulsive” he nips at Curt’s jawline.
“Charismatic” Curt retorts his voice catching in his throat
“Mm” Owen ghosts his lips along Curt’s neck. He feels Curt go tense underneath him and it elicits a sense of triumph. “Reckless”
“Intuitive” Curt’s voice is definitely strained now and Owen takes the opportunity graze his teeth against a spot just under Curt’s ear.
“Don’t you dare” Curt groans squirming, it was too late. Owen lets his tongue trace teasing circles along the sensitive part of Curt’s neck, nipping again when Curt lets out a long low whine and following it with a pacifying kiss.
“Bastard” Curt whines trying desperately to swallow the giggles that were trying to burst free. “I’m ah- I’m not t-ah- taking it back.”
Owen stops what he’s doing and pulls back. He is so overwhelmed with the man underneath him that he doesn’t know what to do. In this dark warm bubble perhaps lowering his guard isn’t such a terrible thing.
“Stubborn” he says softly, leaning in to kiss Curt, it is indulgent and tender, more tender than anything he usually permits himself. His heart thuds painfully in his chest and he can almost physically feel his last wall crumble under Curt’s touch. In that instant he is consumed. “I love you too.”
Curt moves to cup Owen’s face in his hands somehow both gentle and insistent as he deepens the kiss. It’s all Owen can do not to melt. After a few minutes Curt lightly pushes against his shoulders, prompting Owen to roll back onto his side of the bed.
“You’re gorgeous” Curt says sounding reverent and regretful “But I wasn’t kidding before, I’m fucking beat.”
Owen laughs raucously because suddenly he feels like he can. He pulls Curt into their original position with his head on his chest and cards his fingers through Curt’s hair. He feels light. Even after the hellish day they had, he might even feel somewhere suspiciously close to the vicinity of happy. Maybe Curt had it right all along, maybe this is how you get through it. He thinks he probably wouldn’t mind if his job ended up swallowing him, as long as he knew Curt loved him.