Curt really, really liked to be stuck in a safehouse with Owen.
Owen was smart and funny and witty and always knew what to say and the past few days he'd been more affectionate than usual and Curt loved it. Usually he was the affectionate one, but now Owen was, and it wasn't what Curt had expected when Cynthia had told him that "this time you've fucked up badly enough that you and Owen are gonna have to be in a safehouse for a fucking month". He liked to tease Owen about it, but he knew when he should stop. And even when he didn't know, Owen's slightly dismissive glare was enough to make Curt shut up, and then Owen would smile and pull Curt closer. Now was not one of those moments. Now was a moment where Owen was very irritable and therefore also very irritated by Curt.
Curt didn't know what he'd done wrong. He'd gone over the day a million times in his head, and was now going over it for the million and first time.
He'd waken up with Owen in his arms. Owen had been asleep, and Curt had smiled softly, and he'd started to make little braids in Owen's hair. He'd kissed his head a few times, careful not to wake Owen up, and he'd felt happy. He was warm inside and he was filled with love for the man he was holding. Owen looked so small in his arms, even though he was taller than Curt. It was hard for Curt to believe that that same man had killed people, even if it was for the greater good. He seemed so innocent, almost child-like. Unaware of everything and anything bad that was going on around him. Of course Curt knew that when awake, Owen was very, very aware of what was going on around him. More aware than Curt. Owen was kind of Curt's source of news. Curt relied on him to inform him about what the hell was happening. But right then, right there, in Curt's arms, he was blissfully unware of what the hell was happening, and he was a warm and welcome presence in Curt's arms.
Eventually, he woke up. "Good morning," Curt whispered, kissing his temple soflty. Owen struggled to get out of his arms for a few moments, then seemed to realize where he was and he relaxed. "Morning," he said, his voice tired and muffled in Curt's neck. Curt pulled him closer. He felt Owen smile. "How late is it?" Owen asked. "Uh, about ten in the morning." Owen nodded - or attempted to nod, since Curt was still wrapped around him - and gently placed his hands on Curt's arms, moving them away so he could escape from the embrace. Of course Curt let him, even though he'd really prefer if Owen would've stayed with him a bit longer. It did make him worry. Was something wrong? Had Curt done something wrong? But Owen took Curt's hand and kissed it and held it against his cheek and it washed Curt's worries away, kind of like the sea washing sand castles away. But evil sand castles. Because sand castles are good and they should not be washed away. It was like the sea washing evil sand castles away.
Owen made them breakfast (scrambled eggs). He was pretty quiet, which could be considered logical - he was supposed to be eating and not to be talking, after all - and it was, but Curt did talk a lot while eating and Owen's responses were shorter than normally. They weren't that much shorter, and probably nothing to worry about, but the evil sand castels inside Curt were building themselves back up. After breakfast, Owen threw himself onto the couch and grabbed a book he'd been reading the day before. Curt sat down next to him and tried to cuddle up against him, but Owen wouldn't let him. He flinched away whenever Curt touched him and Curt, taken aback, stopped trying.
The day had gone on like that. Owen being a bit colder than normal, and Curt trying to get him to warm up, and the evil sand castles kept growing and growing. There almost was a whole evil sand imperium in Curt's head. Owen was the water that could was the imperium away, but today the sea was dry. Curt had tried not to adress it, he didn't want to force the issue. But during dinner - Owen had started to make pasta without even asking Curt what he wanted, something he normally did - he couldn't stand it any longer.
"Owen, what's wrong?" he asked. Owen looked up to him, previously having been staring at his pasta but not eating a lot of it. "Nothing's wrong, Curt. I'm fine." He flashed a smile at Curt, but he wasn't buying it. "Come on, Owe, you know I'm not that gullible. I know you. Something's wrong, and I want to help you." He punctuated his sentence by tapping against the table with his fork.
"You don't have to 'help me', love." It was muttered, and Owen wasn't looking at Curt. It gave Curt a chance to examine him without Owen noticing. He looked rather tired, and agitated. He was drumming his knife against his plate and the pet name sounded forced. Curt could still somewhat see the little braids he'd made when Owen was asleep, and he couldn't supress a smile when he noticed them. "Fine," Curt said. He wasn't going to lie, he was a bit disappointed. But when Owen was in a mood like this, it was best to let him be. Usually, pressing the matter only made things worse, and obviously Curt didn't want that.
They didn't talk that day until they went to bed. Still in the same bed. Curt had automatically gone to Owen's room, where they had been sleeping, and Owen didn't say anything about it so Curt concluded that he couldn't be that upset with him. "Goodnight," Curt said, and he saw a small smile on Owen's face. "Night, love," he said. This time, the pet name sounded natural and one of the smaller evil sand castles was washed away by a single wave.
Curt woke up alone. The space beside him was warm though, so Owen must've left only a few minutes ago. "Owen?" he called, but his partner didn't answer. The evil sand castle that had been washed away the evening before came back, and Curt got up worriedly to find Owen sitting on the couch, reading the same book as the days before. "What are you even reading?" he asked after he sat down next to him.
Owen looked up from his book, surprised. "I thought you were asleep." Curt chose to ignore the fact that he hadn't answered his question. "I was. But I woke up and you weren't there." He couldn't prevent his voice from sounding a little hurt. Owen sighed. "Look, Curt, I'm sorry about yesterday. I know that I shouldn't have dismissed you like that, especially with the concussion and all that. I know that your head can't handle all of that stress right now. It's just - I really don't like being confined like this." He'd started with a strong voice, but he got quieter as he spoke. Curt tentatively placed his hand on top of Owen's, and intertwined their fingers when Owen didn't pull away. "I understand," he said. Owen shook his head. "No. I had a bad day yesterday and it wasn't your fault, and I should've let you know, I should've-I should've talked to you about it instead of not talking to you at all."
Curt squeezed his hand. "Okay, firstly, you did talk to me, just...not much. But you did talk to me. Second, it's okay, Owe. I'm not going to lie to you, I was worrying, and yes, it worsened my headache, but it's okay. Don't beat yourself up over it, okay?" Owen bit his lip but nodded. Curt exhaled, relieved. "I'm still sorry," Owen said softly, scooting closer to Curt. Curt let go of his hand and wrapped his arms around him. "I know you are. Apology accepted." Owen chuckled. "Thanks, darling."
"Can we go back to bed?" Curt then asked.
"You just got out of it, love."
"I didn't get to wake up with you close to me."
Owen shook his head, laughing. "Curt Mega, you are the most cliche man I have ever met." Curt moved his fingers through Owen's hair. "You love it." "You know I do."
Eventually, Curt convinced Owen to go back to bed, even though it was already eleven and Owen thought it was way too late for this. But he was holding Curt now, and the evil sand imperium had vanished. Curt reached up to play with Owen's hair. "I love you," he said.
"I love you too," Owen responded. He sighed. "I didn't think it was possibly to love someone this much, but I do." He kissed Curt's forehead. Then, he took Curt's hand, kissing it. Curt dropped it to Owen's shoulder. He closed his eyes. "Don't fall asleep on me now," Owen said, half-joking. Curt hummed. He fell asleep easily, and when he woke up, Owen was still there, reading his book.