Work Text:
The door of Conner’s childhood home shut behind Conner and Owen as they made it inside. Conner was aware of the state of where he lived; he was ashamed of the tornado he had turned his mother’s place into. Owen winces at the mess, bottles were scattered everywhere as well as what he assumed to be dirty clothes.
“So, this is where you’ve been staying? Owen asks, failing to mask the pitiful look on his face.
Conner was standing right beside him, watching in embarrassment as Owen scans the room in front of them. He sighs. “I was expecting my mom to be here with me, but y’know how she is…”
“Shitty?”
“What? No– she’s just busy. With tours and stuff.”
“I mean, she could’ve canceled. She’s your mom.”
Conner frowned, and instead of responding back, he leads Owen over to the couch in hopes of changing the subject. “Do you wanna sit down? I can get you a drink,” He offers, gesturing Owen to take a seat.
Owen smiles, looking a little hesitant at his offer. “Maybe some water?”
Conner nods and heads to the kitchen, glancing over at his friend, who was settling himself onto the couch. Conner grabs a glass from the drying rack and gives it a quick search to make sure it isn’t dirty, but he ends up washing it anyway. The silence is deafening in the small house compared to the loud contrast of the club, so instead of blasting music, all that’s running through Conner’s mind is that Owen asked for water, and Conner wants to give it to him because a part of him feels like this small task could act as a bandage to the wound he had created for someone he cared about so deeply. Conner questions himself on how such a simple offering can make him this anxious, but the sound of the TV being turned on drowns out his thoughts. He turns on the sink, letting the cold water fill up the glass.
Conner walks towards Owen and places the cup onto the table in front of them, settling himself on the other side of the couch to maintain a comfortable distance. Owen thanks him for the water and picks it up, bringing the cool glass to his lips. Conner can’t help but stare at him for a moment, almost as if he’s scared the most important person in his life is going to leave again. He wouldn’t blame him for it if he did. Owen places the glass down and glances up at Conner, who immediately averts his gaze. Conner feels the blush creep up his neck to itch at him while he attempts to interrupt the ongoing silence.
“How is it?”
“What?”
“The water.”
“It’s okay?”
Conner felt his breath quicken. He wasn’t the type to freeze up like this when it came to being with close friends. He shakes it off as just him being awkward because of how long it has been since they last saw each other.
“I had to use tap, so. I know you probably aren’t used to it.”
“Okay.” Maybe talking wasn’t a smart choice, the thought trampled every ounce of confidence he had. Though, a soft voice from the other man was enough to bring it back.
“Why’re you so far away?”
“What- Oh. I thought you’d want some space. Busy night, right?”
“Dude, I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Owen shakes his head, looking up at Conner as he laughs. "That's the last thing I’d want.”
Conner feels a wave of relief hit him and he finally lets himself relax, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. He scoots a little closer, afraid of intruding too much of his friend’s space, and adds, “So, you do want me to…”
One nod from Owen and Conner was already knee to knee with him, realizing seconds later that maybe he’s sitting a little too close. But Owen didn’t seem to mind, in fact he seemed to be enjoying it.
“I just wanna thank you, y’know,” Conner started, gesturing to his own face. “For helping me take this shit off. It’s actually kinda hard to do it by myself.”
“Oh. Yeah,” Owen says, suddenly distracted with something he found in his pocket. “It’s no big deal.”
“It is to me.”
Conner’s staring at Owen as he tells him this, and he doesn’t know why exactly he is, but it feels right in the moment. Owen’s staring back now, and Conner could’ve sworn he saw him blush before he looked down to his lap. He watches as Owen stays in silence for a few seconds, licking his lips briefly in a way that makes Conner’s legs feel weak.
“I’m really glad it’s off though, too. I miss seeing your face.”
Conner feels himself begin to get flustered, and he pushes his feelings down by disguising it with laughter.
“Man, don’t say that. It’s weird when you act all soft and shit with me, like I’m a girl.”
Owen chuckles at his comment, his eyes falling to his lap once again as he apologizes.
“Sorry, It must be the alcohol.”
He takes one look at Conner before adding one last thing.
“But I really did miss you.”
Conner blushes and scoffs as he punches his arm playfully, and Owen rubs the spot as he pretends to act pained. Conner feels that fluttery feeling again deep in his gut and immediately turns away to the TV. He can feel Owen’s eyes heavy on him, and now he has to adjust again to the new foreign feeling growing in his stomach. He can feel Owen leaning in, coming closer inch-by-inch, his hand coming to rest on his own. Conner can hear his own heart pounding through his chest, and as scared as he is feeling right now, he feels good. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion when Conner turns his head to face him, his eyes glancing down to his lips and slowly closing as he leans towards the warmth of his best friend. Owen’s lips lightly graze over his in a chaste kiss, and as Owen pulls away to see his reaction, Conner feels a sudden spike of hunger he never knew he had. He moves even closer, his mouth slightly opening to let Owen in, but Owen’s head ruins his further plans as it falls to rest on his shoulder. Muffled snorts and laughter soak into Conner’s sleeve as he tries to process what went wrong. Conner’s eyes are rightfully wide, half confused and annoyed at what was happening. He has no idea what came over him, but he feels almost needy for missing the feeling of Owen’s lips on his. He frowns, allowing his lingering question to fly out of his mouth.
“Are you laughing?”
Owen’s face is matching the same shade as his right now: pink and flushed.
“I didn’t mean to do that-”
“You kissed me!”
Owen grins at him sheepishly as he covers his face with his hands, seemingly embarrassed by his actions. Conner feels his heart flutter for the first time in a while.
“That is the gayest shit ever, man.”
Conner playfully pushes him away, but he doesn’t wipe his mouth. Owen doesn’t either.
“Can I kiss you again?”
Conner pauses and he has to fight down the choked coughs about to burst out of his mouth. “What?”
He knows Owen won’t try to get it out of him. But he’s pretty sure Owen already knows his answer. Conner nods his head in a silent plea and grabs Owen’s wrist. Owen gets the hint and leans back in slowly, as if he’s scared he made the wrong choice. The kiss starts off nice, and Conner is able to enjoy it much more than the first one. He’s able to notice the little things, like the way Owen felt and how his lips moved with his own. Owen’s lips are soft, a little wet from all the times he spent subconsciously biting them whenever he was nervous, which was every second before this very moment. But right before he could melt into it, Owen began opening and closing his mouth in a way that made Conner furrow his eyebrows in confusion. It only took a couple seconds into the kiss for Conner to realize that Owen had little to no idea what he was doing. He pulls back.
“Do you know how to kiss?”
Based on the blush that rose on Owen’s face, it was safe to assume that Conner’s guess was right. His gaze softens as he reaches out for Owen’s hand, comfortingly caressing it to ensure Owen that he won’t judge him. He actually found it quite amusing that Owen didn’t have much experience.
“Yeah…"
Conner can tell by his tone that he’s lying, and instead of interrogating him further, he ignores him. Knowing Owen, it would take a long time to get through to him. This time, Conner is the one to initiate the kiss. He starts off gentle and slow, making sure Owen is comfortable and smiles into it when he feels Owen’s hands come up to cup his face. Conner grabs Owen’s wrists, guiding his hands to grip onto his waist, and Owen goes along with it and brings him closer. Conner takes it a step further by getting up and settling himself onto Owen’s lap. The startled look on Owen’s face as he straddles him is nothing else but a delight to Conner, and he grins as he kisses Owen again, once on the lips, then moves down to his jaw.
Conner pulls back to look at him again, as if it’s the last time they would ever see each other. Owen’s hair is a mess and his lips are red and glossy from Conner pressing his lips against his a little too hard, and it is truly a wonderful sight. And the whine that comes out of Owen’s mouth due to the absence of his lips on his own makes Conner’s whole body feel like it’s going to collapse. He gives into Owen’s silent begging and practically throws himself at him, wasting no time to let Owen’s mouth take over. Conner admits to himself that there still is some improvement to be made with Owen’s kissing, but it’s Owen, and he’d rather have this absolute mess of a makeout session than anything else. Conner feels Owen’s cold hands against his skin, moving up to slide under the back of his shirt and he shivers at the contact. Conner bites Owen’s lower lip as they both pull back to breathe, and the whimper that comes out of Owen afterwards is too much for him to handle. It’s taking almost all of Conner’s effort not to go further, but he knows better than to do anything without checking on his friend.
“Is this too much?”
Owen shakes his head, and Conner smiles proudly when he takes notice in Owen’s dazed face.
“No, it’s fine. I like it.” Owen’s arms are shaking as they slide up to grip his torso, bringing Conner closer.
They continued what they were doing for a while. Time seemed to blur for the both of them. It had been a long time since Conner kissed anyone like this, he felt like he was back in college again. But instead of some girl he didn’t know, it was Owen. And for some odd reason that was the best part.
When they finally pull back, Conner grins at Owen and gives him one last peck on the lips before sliding off. He sits beside Owen as close as he can, and Owen takes the opportunity to rest his head on his shoulder. Owen’s hand is clammy when he grabs a hold of Conner’s, and it’s a little awkward but Conner wouldn’t have it any other way. He grabs the remote lying on the empty side of the couch to change the channel.
“‘Parent Trap?’” Conner suggests.
“What’s that?”