There were a lot of things that Curt Mega loved about Owen Carvour.
For one, there were his eyes. They were brown and some people would call it simple and basic but Curt never would. Those people obviously hadn’t taken a close look at Owen’s eyes. They were everything but simple and basic. If you looked closely - specifically so close that it’d only take another moment until you were kissing him - you could see little bits of green and yellow in them. Owen’s eyes were complex and unique. One could argue that every eye was complex and unique, but to Curt Owen’s eyes were the most unique and the most beautiful.
There was, of course, his personality. Owen was so strong and yet so soft, so determined and yet so easily convinced. Especially when Curt tried to convince him to do things, actually. Owen was very charming. He was not only easily convinced, but also very convincing. It came in handy a lot of the time. He actually had a lot of personality traits that were good for missions, Curt supposed that that was why he was Britain’s best spy, and one of the two world’s best spies. He was very patient, very observant, very effective. Things Curt wasn’t, although he’d never admit it. He just kind of waltzed his way through the missions and somehow managed to survive them.
And third but not least (certainly not last but not least, there were far more than three things that Curt loved about Owen), there was his hair. It was so soft and pretty and there was a slight curl to it and Curt loved it. He vividly remembered that the day after their first kiss, he’d kissed Owen again and finally got to play with his hair. He’d been waiting for that moment for such a long time, and that day he learned how to braid hair. After that, Owen constantly walked around any safehouse or hotel they were in with little braids in his hair.
At the moment, Owen was cooking, as he’d promised the day before. To be precise, he was making pancakes. He’d just walked to the kitchen and grabbed the ingredients from the fridge without even asking Curt what he wanted. He just knew him that well.
“Owen?” Curt asked. Owen briefly looked over him before focusing on the batter he was whisking. “Yes, love?”
“Can I braid your hair after dinner?” Owen chuckled. “What? It’s a serious question.”
“You ask that ‘serious question’ every time I grow out my hair, darling. Every time you see me, actually. Honestly, I’m surprised that it’s taken you almost a week to ask it.”
“I know,” Curt said. He walked over to Owen and draped his arms around him, without placing too much of his weight on his partner out of fear that the batter would fly everywhere. “I just want to be sure, there are times that you don’t want people to touch your hair.” Owen reached up and touched Curt’s hand for a moment. “That’s surprisingly considerate of you. Thanks.” He kissed Curt’s hand, and Curt felt all warm inside.
“Now I recommend that you sit back down at the table and let me do my work.” Curt pouted, but sat back down.
Curt finished eating before Owen. He stared at Owen, trying to look into his eyes. Owen successfully ignored him for a while, but eventually Curt saw him hiding a smile. Curt smirked, knowing that it wouldn’t take a long time for him to break Owen. He was right. Owen soon was erupting in laughter, almost choking on his food. “You do that every time you’re finished sooner than I am,” he said in between giggles.
Curt shrugged. “I just want to see you smile, you know that. And since I don’t want to torture you I don’t tickle you, and instead just stare at you.” He smiled innocently. Owen gave him a look. “That’s not a lot better than tickling, darling.” “Believe me, it is.”
Curt walked over to Owen, taking his chair with him and sitting down beside him. He leaned his head on Owen’s shoulder, but he gently shrugged him off. Curt sent him a questioning look. “I’m eating, love.” Curt huffed. “Eating is a waste of time.” Owen shook his head amusedly.
Finally, Curt went to move behind him, and took his hair between his fingers. With the utmost concentration he braided a loose strand of it, but unfortunately Owen was still eating, causing his head to move. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair,” Curt mumbled.
“If you’re really that desperate, I’ll stop moving,” Owen said with a hint of a smile in his voice. Curt smiled happily and focused on Owen’s hair again. Owen finished his plate with messy braids in his hair.