ask_owencarvour

Owen Carvour MI6 (A SaF Roleplay Blog) - P.S. I love Curtwen

[askowencarvour]

MI6 Reconnaissance

Agent Owen Carvour here, checking out this 'Tumblr' since my American partner is apparently on here. MI6 needs information, and if this is a way to get it, well then I'll be damned if I avoid it.

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡

Call me whatever you like. I'm tired of hiding behind MI6 for everything. Screw that. Ask what you want, say what you want. Interact. That's the point of this bloody thing.

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡

[OOC always in brackets]

[(parenthesis are inner thoughts)]

["dialogue" vs not dialogue without quotatations]

[No, I'm not a minor, so NSFW is okay. Nothing TOO wild, mind you.]

[I'm not British, but I'm trying my best. This is just a side blog for funsies. I may not post often, but I'll try to respond to asks in a timely manner. Happy to chat with other SAF characters, or your own OCs, etc.]

[Headcanon: Owen is gay, and used to be uptight closeted about it. Now that he's found the safe space of the internet, he cares a whole lot less and just says F all that hiding.]

[This is a safe space. I don't take hate. Keep that in mind.]

[Any Curtwen intentions ☕︎ Have a cuppa on me, partner. (I'm in for it.)]

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡

▄︻デ══━一 - 𖦏

Let's begin, lovelies. ;)

[askowencarvour]

what's your biggest regret...

Oh. Well then.

Digging deep, are we?

I'll say trying anything with that damned Mega. That American is nothing but trouble.

That or falling in love with the bloody git

[askowencarvour]

Hey Owen, it's pride month.

You know what that means...

Do I?

Do you want me to do gay spy work or what?

Because I already do...

[askowencarvour]

its chewsday innit

I don't know if you're making fun of my accent, but I warn you now that if you are, I know fifteen ways to end a man and I won't even need a weapon.

Also it's Wednesday now. Some of us sleep at odd hours. Part of the job, you know.

[ask-agentmega]

*appears*

Here.

*gives you a puppy with an envelope*

Cuide do 'Amendoim'.

*disappears into thin air*

A puppy!!! Oh man Owen we got a puppy!!!

[askowencarvour]

Well. It's rather...

Cute, I suppose.

And oddly, it reminds me of someone. Another with soft, pleading eyes that can't leave me be, it seems.

Well, what shall we name it?

[ask-agentmega]

Aw, whose eyes are those?

And it came with a letter that... is not in English.

[askowencarvour]

Give me that.

It says to, 'Take care of the peanut,' apparently. I suppose we could call him Peanut. Unless you have a better name in mind.

And the eyes are yours, you dolt.

[ask-agentmega]

*appears*

Here.

*gives you a puppy with an envelope*

Cuide do 'Amendoim'.

*disappears into thin air*

A puppy!!! Oh man Owen we got a puppy!!!

[askowencarvour]

Well. It's rather...

Cute, I suppose.

And oddly, it reminds me of someone. Another with soft, pleading eyes that can't leave me be, it seems.

Well, what shall we name it?

[askowencarvour]

What's your favorite color, Carvour?

First off, it's colour. Spell it right, American.

I bet this is you, Mega but if it isn't, nice try. I'm not that easy to break.

Fine.

It's rather obvious, but I like red. Dark burgundy, to be exact, like a good wine.

[ask-agentmega]

lets play a game

you all have a chance to give me a gift! a physical object or a compliment or something.

it's my birthday coming up and cynthia said she wasn't gonna get me anything

[askowencarvour]

Am I not enough for you?

Figures you'd need something concrete, Mega. Such a petty thing.

[ask-agentmega]

Did Cynthia chew you out that badly, Mega?

Or are you just ignoring me?

@askowencarvour

[Ooc: Man that comes across as needy. Maybe that's just Curtwen idk. Sorry lol.]

…ignoring you

[askowencarvour]

You think you can ignore me that easily, Mega?

As if I don't know every habit and quirk of yours, as if I don't keep every dangerous secret poised behind my teeth for you and you alone to know, as if I can't predict just where and when I can find you again.

Which does remind me...

What a lovely tailored black suit jacket on you. Is that new? 😏

[ask-agentmega]

listen, Carvour. I’m sick of this shit. You’ve gotten me in trouble and I’m saving my ass by ignoring you. I appreciate your love of my new suit but this just… we knew this was gonna happen. So quit pretending like it’s something you can avoid

[askowencarvour]

We live for trouble, love. It's kind of part of the package.

Man up a little.

Besides, I'm outside your bloody safehouse you idiot. How else would I know about the new suit, idiot American?

God above, Mega. Just open the door.

[ask-agentmega]

It's- it's raining you dumbass! Get inside, fucking hell.

Why are you here? Cmon, Owen, what the fuck?

[askowencarvour]

He doesn't bother to wipe the rain off of himself as he steps in. It drips from his dark hair, slips over his eyelashes and gathers over his tense shoulders.

"I'm here because otherwise it's dull and boring as tap water alone."

"Too bloody quiet," he adds.

A shuffle from foot to foot, glancing aside. One could think he was taking in the safehouse, but anyone that knew Owen better would know deflection when they saw it.

"And..." he began, "perhaps I was wondering if Cynthia would change your assignment. Get you away from me."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt crosses his arms. "You can ask her, but you know what the answer will be."

He presses his lips together, "You're dripping water everywhere. Take your shit off."

[askowencarvour]

A glare cuts Mega's way, but Owen shrugs out of his dark jacket and tosses it aside. "I'd rather not test her ire any further. I'll be lucky enough if she doesn't throw a knife at me."

He pauses, "For the fifth time, I might add."

Then Owen smirks and unbuttons the top three buttons of his damp dress shirt. "You know, if you wanted me out of my clothes, love, there are other ways about it." The motions halt, and Owen spreads out his hands in the air, jerks his chin towards himself in invitation. "You want the rest off, Mega?"

The smile grows crooked on his features, haughty as usual. He does so like to hide behind the debonair mask when he can. "Then I say you've got hands. Put them to use."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt's face stiffens, Owen's chest hair peeking out just enough for him to notice it, for him to want to grab Owen by the shirt collar and throw himself upon him.

"Fuckin tease," Curt muttered, before stepping towards Owen, taking in the height his partner had over him. He glanced down towards the buttons, undoing just one of them, "I didn't hear a car come up. Did you walk?"

[askowencarvour]

"No, I've learned to fly in my spare time," Owen sassed. "Yes, I walked. Don't need a car around here, Mega. It's not like America, ill designed for anything beyond automobiles."

He watched Curt, the smirk never quite fading. Maybe there was a softness to the gaze. Maybe there wasn't.

That was the problem with Owen. Too long at playing spy meant he forgot to turn it off. To let anyone close enough to see the truth.

"Got a mission soon?" Owen pried. "Or are you stuck in this safehouse for a while? Because I could... keep you company, I suppose. Kill my own boredom while making sure you behave. Two birds, one stone."

[ask-agentmega]

"No... no mission soon. Waiting for everything with the last one to get cleared up," Curt shrugged, taking the slightest step from Owen. "Do you want anything? Food or... anything?"

He turned his back to Owen, stepping into the small safe house kitchen, "I've got... well. Not much."

[askowencarvour]

"Got a smoke?" Owen shrugged off the damp shirt, bare torso exposed to the air for a moment or two as Curt turned, before he plucked up Mega's signature black and red jacket and draped it over himself in place of anything else.

He flopped on the sofa, toed off his shoes, and kicked his feet up on the other end. Sprawling across to take up all the space, borrowed jacket hanging open as he leaned back with a deep-set sigh. "Still take after your mother like that. Trying to take care of everyone, worrying all the time. Going to come back to bite you in the ass, love."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt turned back to him, but shut his eyes fast when he noticed Owen's chest, and his jacket covering him. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as his stomach turned to knots. Fuck.

"Yeah, got some in the drawer."

He didn't comment on the taking care of others thing, he wasn't ready to think on it. But, he knew Owen was probably right. Owen tended to be.

He came from behind the sofa, "Move your feet." He spoke with a bit too much annoyance, it made him sound like he cared more than he did.

[askowencarvour]

Owen scowled but he shifted his feet. "I'll get them myself, then," he grumbled.

He trudged over and slid open the indicated drawer, drawing out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He tapped one free, drew out his lighter from his pants pocket, flicked it to life, and then pulled in a breath to make it catch. Once it did, he shoved the pack into the jacket pocket - likely forgetting it wasn't his - and clicked the lighter closed.

The smoke curled up around his face, the dry air colored by the acrid smell. He exhaled and his shoulders loosened. "Finally," he breathed.

He padded back over, more at ease, and slid back into place on the sofa. And then promptly lifted his feet to put in Curt's lap like they belonged there. "Evening plans, Mega?" One dark eyebrow rose in question as he shifted the smoke between two long fingers and held it aside.

[ask-agentmega]

He laughed.

"Stay in, get drunk, go to bed. Until you showed up, at least."

Curt pressed his fingers to Owen's cigarette and took it out of his hand, taking a long drag. He settled himself against the couch, handing the cigarette back to Owen.

"And you? Evening plans?"

[askowencarvour]

He acted like he needed to think. As if he didn't know just what he had in mind and could not name it with a few simple syllables.

Then again, it was more fun to tease. To watch the look on Mega's face, all pink cheeked and easy to read.

"Hmm," Owen hummed, taking back the cigarette for another drag. "Could still stay in," he noted. "Drink some disgusting bourbon you so adore," he allowed slowly, as the smoke passed back and forth between them, growing smaller and smaller, the ashes tapped into an empty coaster on a side table. "Go to bed," he finished.

He intended the suggestion in his words. Let Mega imagine what he liked, whatever popped into that darling little head of his.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt closed his eyes, turning his head to Owen, a smile cracking across his face.

"Well, since you're here... might as well do them all. We've got time."

He couldn't help but smile, knowing he was falling into old patterns which he told himself he would indeed avoid. Yet he found that in the moment, glancing at Owen's profile, drinking him in while he's in the flesh, he could not live by the rules he'd put in place for himself.

[askowencarvour]

"Might as well," he agreed and snuffed out the cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter anyway.

Owen leaned over, caught Curt's chin in two fingers, and kissed him. It was not slow nor particularly sweet, but it was not harsh and rough either. Somehow, it balanced between the two perfectly.

An exhale after, "Finally," and it was an echo of the first inhale of nicotine. The one secret Mega had earned from Owen - that this too, was a drug that he waited for with reverence and tension. Could watch Owen's shoulders loosen the rest of the way, eyes half-lidded, and think that maybe this made it all worth it.

Even if it wouldn't last.

[ask-agentmega]

A grin pealed its way onto Curt's face as he hummed against Owen's lips. He'd missed this, even if he didn't want to admit it. This... tenderness. It all felt too good.

He cupped the back of Owen's head, fingers tangling into his hair, heart racing inside his chest.

"Damn it, Carvour," he cursed Owen, but it was more to himself. He made it too easy, he knew that. But it was unavoidable. And it was good. It healed his broken mind, even if it fractured other sections of it, "Missed you."

[askowencarvour]

"I know you did, love," he voiced, rather than admit the same in return. "You always do," he chided and shifted enough to crowd Mega into the corner of the sofa, looming over as he kissed him once more.

Trailed to the edge of Mega's jaw and left a hickey that could be hidden just below the collar if necessary.

No one needed to know how his ribcage rattled and warmed with the contact shared. No one could decipher the secrets that they shared between them told only between the slide of lips and the nip of teeth. No one could stop them, even if it would be better for all parties if they did - only because Owen did not know how to be kind in a way that worked and Curt did not know how to be careful enough to care.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt's mouth lay open, exhales deep as Owen nipped at his skin. He let it happen, fingers grasping at Owen's hair as he pulled him closer, their thighs brushing against each other. Curt wanted him closer, wanted to pull Owen against him and feel their racing hearts against each other.

He kissed Owen’s ear as his partner bit at his neck, letting out a soft curse that came out as a whimper.

“Did you miss me?”

He had to ask. He wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t.

[askowencarvour]

Owen paused and pulled back enough to look Mega in the eyes. Held there with a gaze that was predator sharp, the kind he used in interrogations - cunning and quiet.

Then he smiled, crooked as always, "Do you have to ask?" He quipped.

Something must have flickered across Mega's face. Something that caused the surefire smirk on Owen's face to flicker with a hint of guilt and knowing.

He leaned in and for a moment, he softened. Skimmed fingers gently up over Curt's chest and pressed one hand palm flat over his sternum, as if trying to reach the organ beneath through layers of cloth and flesh and muscle. Spoke in a hushed whisper, hardly more than a breath next to the other man's ear, "'Miss' is too tame a word for what it feels like to be without half of yourself."

Then he bit down over Curt's collarbone. A distraction, or maybe a counterpoint of harsh to the sweet so that he could hide behind it.

[ask-agentmega]

A laugh pulled Curt from his trance for only a moment, but then with Owen's teeth against his skin, his whole body jolted back into his unending lust. His eyes were glazed, drunk off this feeling, this tension between them, Owen's hand laying on his chest.

Curt's fingers went from his hair down to his shirt, undoing the rest of the buttons he had left. Once he was finished, he cupped Owen's face in his hands and pulled him away from his chest, forcing a kiss. Sensual this time, needy. Hungry.

"I can't fucking stand you sometimes," he muttered, before biting down on Owen's lip, tugging it slightly. He needed to taste him, every piece of skin, every bit of flesh, he needed it all.

[askowencarvour]

Owen growled low and met the kiss with the taste of iron on his lips that Curt has pulled from him. Frantic, needy, a touch desperate, whatever you wanted to call it Owen didn't care. He only kissed so hard that it might bruise.

The slide of tongues meeting, the tug of clothes to scatter them wherever without care.

"Whatever you have to say to comfort yourself, Mega," he hissed between panted breaths.

They had stayed in, yes. But they'd skip the bourbon, and might very well skip the bed if things continued, given Owen's reaching hands.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt chuckled, because it was all he could do. He knew Owen was right, but what was the use of letting him win? He placed his palms on Owen's naked chest, fingers sliding under the unbuttoned shirt, feeling his muscles flex as he moved.

"We're not moving." He muttered, "Not letting you."

His head fell to Owen's neck, nipping the skin, missing his taste.

"Fuck this shit," he grumbled, lifting his shirt over his head and letting it fall off the couch, before his mouth returned to attacking Owen's. He was needy, desperate, pent-up rage finally releasing from him.

[askowencarvour]

As callous as Owen might have acted, his hands spoke in touches that spoke of gentleness, in a sense.

The way he buried fingers near the nape of Curt’s collar, fingertips buried in his hair, and guided him closer. Coaxed him to do as he pleased, with soft sounds and hissed inhales. “Never said I... I wanted to... Mega,” he managed.

Owen meant to tumble at least to the side on the sofa, but Mega seemed literal on the ‘not moving’ front, so he rolled a nipple between thumb and forefinger just to elicit a gasp from Curt long enough for him to shift them both somewhat more horizontal in direction. Clever, deft fingers good at picking locks or snipping dangerous wires plucked at the button of Curt’s jeans as his other hand tugged on the belt loops, “Off,” he commanded. “If you’re so impatient, what’s the use in waiting?”

[ask-agentmega]

A soft moan fell through Curt’s open mouth. He grinned, sitting up on his knees for a moment to remove his pants. A smile fell to Curt’s face as he kissed Owen again. “I know what you want. I’m not the impatient one here.”

He, of course, knew it was a lie. He was likely more impatient than Owen, and they were both aware of it. But what did it matter? He moved himself back closer to Owen, fingers brushing his Adam’s apple as he tilted his partners head higher.

[askowencarvour]

Owen tipped his head back and exposed the line of his throat to Curt’s ministrations. “Do you?” Owen exhaled, followed by a sharp, “Fuck,” when Curt found a spot that he liked.

After a shaky inhale, he pushed off his own pants with sharp tugs, nearly ripping the fabric in his haste. So, perhaps he too, was impatient, after all. “Well, do be kind enough to tell me because I hardly fucking know myself, love,” he replied.

His bare chest rose and fell in quick motions, breath heavy. Scars caught the light, littered across skin. Bullet holes, knife marks, burns, various things without names or ways to remember just where they had been earned.

He reached out with his hands and caught Curt’s hips to pull him closer, coupled the motion with a slow roll of his own hips to grind together.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt nearly groaned as their hips moved together, finding a rhythm as he nipped and pecked at his skin, words coming out in sharp breaths.

"You're a pain in my ass, you care far too much about doing things the right way," he moved his lips to Owen's chin, then over his cheek bones, then the corners of his lips where a smile quirked up upon them, "You think you're the best spy in the world even if you don't say it, and you probably are," that one stung a bit to say, but Curt wouldn't admit that. He rolled his hips against Owen's, "And you've ruined my fucking life."

He kissed Owen's lips hard once more, hands hard on Owen's chest, pushing him down so his back was flat on the couch.

[askowencarvour]

Owen went back without much fight, hips rolling to meet Mega's above him, constant as a tide. "Someone's got to do it right..." he huffed. "You're the reckless one. Constantly in trouble, getting into danger, anything to make it all..." he hissed a breath in, "more exciting."

He chuckled and the sound broke into a ragged groan. "Fuck, Mega. Who ruined who, really?" he asked.

[mentallyillmindmeld]

Situationship so bad you have to fake your own death and devote four years of your life to dismantling everything he’s ever believed in

[smytherines]

“i asked chatgpt” “i asked grok” yeah well I keep glitter up my sleeves wocka wocka

[ask-agentmega]

Did Cynthia chew you out that badly, Mega?

Or are you just ignoring me?

@askowencarvour

[Ooc: Man that comes across as needy. Maybe that's just Curtwen idk. Sorry lol.]

…ignoring you

[askowencarvour]

You think you can ignore me that easily, Mega?

As if I don't know every habit and quirk of yours, as if I don't keep every dangerous secret poised behind my teeth for you and you alone to know, as if I can't predict just where and when I can find you again.

Which does remind me...

What a lovely tailored black suit jacket on you. Is that new? 😏

[ask-agentmega]

listen, Carvour. I’m sick of this shit. You’ve gotten me in trouble and I’m saving my ass by ignoring you. I appreciate your love of my new suit but this just… we knew this was gonna happen. So quit pretending like it’s something you can avoid

[askowencarvour]

We live for trouble, love. It's kind of part of the package.

Man up a little.

Besides, I'm outside your bloody safehouse you idiot. How else would I know about the new suit, idiot American?

God above, Mega. Just open the door.

[ask-agentmega]

It's- it's raining you dumbass! Get inside, fucking hell.

Why are you here? Cmon, Owen, what the fuck?

[askowencarvour]

He doesn't bother to wipe the rain off of himself as he steps in. It drips from his dark hair, slips over his eyelashes and gathers over his tense shoulders.

"I'm here because otherwise it's dull and boring as tap water alone."

"Too bloody quiet," he adds.

A shuffle from foot to foot, glancing aside. One could think he was taking in the safehouse, but anyone that knew Owen better would know deflection when they saw it.

"And..." he began, "perhaps I was wondering if Cynthia would change your assignment. Get you away from me."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt crosses his arms. "You can ask her, but you know what the answer will be."

He presses his lips together, "You're dripping water everywhere. Take your shit off."

[askowencarvour]

A glare cuts Mega's way, but Owen shrugs out of his dark jacket and tosses it aside. "I'd rather not test her ire any further. I'll be lucky enough if she doesn't throw a knife at me."

He pauses, "For the fifth time, I might add."

Then Owen smirks and unbuttons the top three buttons of his damp dress shirt. "You know, if you wanted me out of my clothes, love, there are other ways about it." The motions halt, and Owen spreads out his hands in the air, jerks his chin towards himself in invitation. "You want the rest off, Mega?"

The smile grows crooked on his features, haughty as usual. He does so like to hide behind the debonair mask when he can. "Then I say you've got hands. Put them to use."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt's face stiffens, Owen's chest hair peeking out just enough for him to notice it, for him to want to grab Owen by the shirt collar and throw himself upon him.

"Fuckin tease," Curt muttered, before stepping towards Owen, taking in the height his partner had over him. He glanced down towards the buttons, undoing just one of them, "I didn't hear a car come up. Did you walk?"

[askowencarvour]

"No, I've learned to fly in my spare time," Owen sassed. "Yes, I walked. Don't need a car around here, Mega. It's not like America, ill designed for anything beyond automobiles."

He watched Curt, the smirk never quite fading. Maybe there was a softness to the gaze. Maybe there wasn't.

That was the problem with Owen. Too long at playing spy meant he forgot to turn it off. To let anyone close enough to see the truth.

"Got a mission soon?" Owen pried. "Or are you stuck in this safehouse for a while? Because I could... keep you company, I suppose. Kill my own boredom while making sure you behave. Two birds, one stone."

[ask-agentmega]

"No... no mission soon. Waiting for everything with the last one to get cleared up," Curt shrugged, taking the slightest step from Owen. "Do you want anything? Food or... anything?"

He turned his back to Owen, stepping into the small safe house kitchen, "I've got... well. Not much."

[askowencarvour]

"Got a smoke?" Owen shrugged off the damp shirt, bare torso exposed to the air for a moment or two as Curt turned, before he plucked up Mega's signature black and red jacket and draped it over himself in place of anything else.

He flopped on the sofa, toed off his shoes, and kicked his feet up on the other end. Sprawling across to take up all the space, borrowed jacket hanging open as he leaned back with a deep-set sigh. "Still take after your mother like that. Trying to take care of everyone, worrying all the time. Going to come back to bite you in the ass, love."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt turned back to him, but shut his eyes fast when he noticed Owen's chest, and his jacket covering him. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as his stomach turned to knots. Fuck.

"Yeah, got some in the drawer."

He didn't comment on the taking care of others thing, he wasn't ready to think on it. But, he knew Owen was probably right. Owen tended to be.

He came from behind the sofa, "Move your feet." He spoke with a bit too much annoyance, it made him sound like he cared more than he did.

[askowencarvour]

Owen scowled but he shifted his feet. "I'll get them myself, then," he grumbled.

He trudged over and slid open the indicated drawer, drawing out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He tapped one free, drew out his lighter from his pants pocket, flicked it to life, and then pulled in a breath to make it catch. Once it did, he shoved the pack into the jacket pocket - likely forgetting it wasn't his - and clicked the lighter closed.

The smoke curled up around his face, the dry air colored by the acrid smell. He exhaled and his shoulders loosened. "Finally," he breathed.

He padded back over, more at ease, and slid back into place on the sofa. And then promptly lifted his feet to put in Curt's lap like they belonged there. "Evening plans, Mega?" One dark eyebrow rose in question as he shifted the smoke between two long fingers and held it aside.

[ask-agentmega]

He laughed.

"Stay in, get drunk, go to bed. Until you showed up, at least."

Curt pressed his fingers to Owen's cigarette and took it out of his hand, taking a long drag. He settled himself against the couch, handing the cigarette back to Owen.

"And you? Evening plans?"

[askowencarvour]

He acted like he needed to think. As if he didn't know just what he had in mind and could not name it with a few simple syllables.

Then again, it was more fun to tease. To watch the look on Mega's face, all pink cheeked and easy to read.

"Hmm," Owen hummed, taking back the cigarette for another drag. "Could still stay in," he noted. "Drink some disgusting bourbon you so adore," he allowed slowly, as the smoke passed back and forth between them, growing smaller and smaller, the ashes tapped into an empty coaster on a side table. "Go to bed," he finished.

He intended the suggestion in his words. Let Mega imagine what he liked, whatever popped into that darling little head of his.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt closed his eyes, turning his head to Owen, a smile cracking across his face.

"Well, since you're here... might as well do them all. We've got time."

He couldn't help but smile, knowing he was falling into old patterns which he told himself he would indeed avoid. Yet he found that in the moment, glancing at Owen's profile, drinking him in while he's in the flesh, he could not live by the rules he'd put in place for himself.

[askowencarvour]

"Might as well," he agreed and snuffed out the cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter anyway.

Owen leaned over, caught Curt's chin in two fingers, and kissed him. It was not slow nor particularly sweet, but it was not harsh and rough either. Somehow, it balanced between the two perfectly.

An exhale after, "Finally," and it was an echo of the first inhale of nicotine. The one secret Mega had earned from Owen - that this too, was a drug that he waited for with reverence and tension. Could watch Owen's shoulders loosen the rest of the way, eyes half-lidded, and think that maybe this made it all worth it.

Even if it wouldn't last.

[ask-agentmega]

A grin pealed its way onto Curt's face as he hummed against Owen's lips. He'd missed this, even if he didn't want to admit it. This... tenderness. It all felt too good.

He cupped the back of Owen's head, fingers tangling into his hair, heart racing inside his chest.

"Damn it, Carvour," he cursed Owen, but it was more to himself. He made it too easy, he knew that. But it was unavoidable. And it was good. It healed his broken mind, even if it fractured other sections of it, "Missed you."

[askowencarvour]

"I know you did, love," he voiced, rather than admit the same in return. "You always do," he chided and shifted enough to crowd Mega into the corner of the sofa, looming over as he kissed him once more.

Trailed to the edge of Mega's jaw and left a hickey that could be hidden just below the collar if necessary.

No one needed to know how his ribcage rattled and warmed with the contact shared. No one could decipher the secrets that they shared between them told only between the slide of lips and the nip of teeth. No one could stop them, even if it would be better for all parties if they did - only because Owen did not know how to be kind in a way that worked and Curt did not know how to be careful enough to care.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt's mouth lay open, exhales deep as Owen nipped at his skin. He let it happen, fingers grasping at Owen's hair as he pulled him closer, their thighs brushing against each other. Curt wanted him closer, wanted to pull Owen against him and feel their racing hearts against each other.

He kissed Owen’s ear as his partner bit at his neck, letting out a soft curse that came out as a whimper.

“Did you miss me?”

He had to ask. He wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t.

[askowencarvour]

Owen paused and pulled back enough to look Mega in the eyes. Held there with a gaze that was predator sharp, the kind he used in interrogations - cunning and quiet.

Then he smiled, crooked as always, "Do you have to ask?" He quipped.

Something must have flickered across Mega's face. Something that caused the surefire smirk on Owen's face to flicker with a hint of guilt and knowing.

He leaned in and for a moment, he softened. Skimmed fingers gently up over Curt's chest and pressed one hand palm flat over his sternum, as if trying to reach the organ beneath through layers of cloth and flesh and muscle. Spoke in a hushed whisper, hardly more than a breath next to the other man's ear, "'Miss' is too tame a word for what it feels like to be without half of yourself."

Then he bit down over Curt's collarbone. A distraction, or maybe a counterpoint of harsh to the sweet so that he could hide behind it.

[ask-agentmega]

A laugh pulled Curt from his trance for only a moment, but then with Owen's teeth against his skin, his whole body jolted back into his unending lust. His eyes were glazed, drunk off this feeling, this tension between them, Owen's hand laying on his chest.

Curt's fingers went from his hair down to his shirt, undoing the rest of the buttons he had left. Once he was finished, he cupped Owen's face in his hands and pulled him away from his chest, forcing a kiss. Sensual this time, needy. Hungry.

"I can't fucking stand you sometimes," he muttered, before biting down on Owen's lip, tugging it slightly. He needed to taste him, every piece of skin, every bit of flesh, he needed it all.

[askowencarvour]

Owen growled low and met the kiss with the taste of iron on his lips that Curt has pulled from him. Frantic, needy, a touch desperate, whatever you wanted to call it Owen didn't care. He only kissed so hard that it might bruise.

The slide of tongues meeting, the tug of clothes to scatter them wherever without care.

"Whatever you have to say to comfort yourself, Mega," he hissed between panted breaths.

They had stayed in, yes. But they'd skip the bourbon, and might very well skip the bed if things continued, given Owen's reaching hands.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt chuckled, because it was all he could do. He knew Owen was right, but what was the use of letting him win? He placed his palms on Owen's naked chest, fingers sliding under the unbuttoned shirt, feeling his muscles flex as he moved.

"We're not moving." He muttered, "Not letting you."

His head fell to Owen's neck, nipping the skin, missing his taste.

"Fuck this shit," he grumbled, lifting his shirt over his head and letting it fall off the couch, before his mouth returned to attacking Owen's. He was needy, desperate, pent-up rage finally releasing from him.

[askowencarvour]

As callous as Owen might have acted, his hands spoke in touches that spoke of gentleness, in a sense.

The way he buried fingers near the nape of Curt’s collar, fingertips buried in his hair, and guided him closer. Coaxed him to do as he pleased, with soft sounds and hissed inhales. “Never said I... I wanted to... Mega,” he managed.

Owen meant to tumble at least to the side on the sofa, but Mega seemed literal on the ‘not moving’ front, so he rolled a nipple between thumb and forefinger just to elicit a gasp from Curt long enough for him to shift them both somewhat more horizontal in direction. Clever, deft fingers good at picking locks or snipping dangerous wires plucked at the button of Curt’s jeans as his other hand tugged on the belt loops, “Off,” he commanded. “If you’re so impatient, what’s the use in waiting?”

[ask-agentmega]

A soft moan fell through Curt’s open mouth. He grinned, sitting up on his knees for a moment to remove his pants. A smile fell to Curt’s face as he kissed Owen again. “I know what you want. I’m not the impatient one here.”

He, of course, knew it was a lie. He was likely more impatient than Owen, and they were both aware of it. But what did it matter? He moved himself back closer to Owen, fingers brushing his Adam’s apple as he tilted his partners head higher.

[askowencarvour]

Owen tipped his head back and exposed the line of his throat to Curt’s ministrations. “Do you?” Owen exhaled, followed by a sharp, “Fuck,” when Curt found a spot that he liked.

After a shaky inhale, he pushed off his own pants with sharp tugs, nearly ripping the fabric in his haste. So, perhaps he too, was impatient, after all. “Well, do be kind enough to tell me because I hardly fucking know myself, love,” he replied.

His bare chest rose and fell in quick motions, breath heavy. Scars caught the light, littered across skin. Bullet holes, knife marks, burns, various things without names or ways to remember just where they had been earned.

He reached out with his hands and caught Curt’s hips to pull him closer, coupled the motion with a slow roll of his own hips to grind together.

[tinkysbox]

Reasons why Owen could've survived being shot in the head brought to you by me running on 3 hours sleep:

1) spies never die

2) spies are forever

3) he's gay. enough said

4) I just really think it would be funny if it happened a second time ngl

5) also spite probably

[askowencarvour]

You're not wrong. Spite.

[ask-agentmega]

Did Cynthia chew you out that badly, Mega?

Or are you just ignoring me?

@askowencarvour

[Ooc: Man that comes across as needy. Maybe that's just Curtwen idk. Sorry lol.]

…ignoring you

[askowencarvour]

You think you can ignore me that easily, Mega?

As if I don't know every habit and quirk of yours, as if I don't keep every dangerous secret poised behind my teeth for you and you alone to know, as if I can't predict just where and when I can find you again.

Which does remind me...

What a lovely tailored black suit jacket on you. Is that new? 😏

[ask-agentmega]

listen, Carvour. I’m sick of this shit. You’ve gotten me in trouble and I’m saving my ass by ignoring you. I appreciate your love of my new suit but this just… we knew this was gonna happen. So quit pretending like it’s something you can avoid

[askowencarvour]

We live for trouble, love. It's kind of part of the package.

Man up a little.

Besides, I'm outside your bloody safehouse you idiot. How else would I know about the new suit, idiot American?

God above, Mega. Just open the door.

[ask-agentmega]

It's- it's raining you dumbass! Get inside, fucking hell.

Why are you here? Cmon, Owen, what the fuck?

[askowencarvour]

He doesn't bother to wipe the rain off of himself as he steps in. It drips from his dark hair, slips over his eyelashes and gathers over his tense shoulders.

"I'm here because otherwise it's dull and boring as tap water alone."

"Too bloody quiet," he adds.

A shuffle from foot to foot, glancing aside. One could think he was taking in the safehouse, but anyone that knew Owen better would know deflection when they saw it.

"And..." he began, "perhaps I was wondering if Cynthia would change your assignment. Get you away from me."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt crosses his arms. "You can ask her, but you know what the answer will be."

He presses his lips together, "You're dripping water everywhere. Take your shit off."

[askowencarvour]

A glare cuts Mega's way, but Owen shrugs out of his dark jacket and tosses it aside. "I'd rather not test her ire any further. I'll be lucky enough if she doesn't throw a knife at me."

He pauses, "For the fifth time, I might add."

Then Owen smirks and unbuttons the top three buttons of his damp dress shirt. "You know, if you wanted me out of my clothes, love, there are other ways about it." The motions halt, and Owen spreads out his hands in the air, jerks his chin towards himself in invitation. "You want the rest off, Mega?"

The smile grows crooked on his features, haughty as usual. He does so like to hide behind the debonair mask when he can. "Then I say you've got hands. Put them to use."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt's face stiffens, Owen's chest hair peeking out just enough for him to notice it, for him to want to grab Owen by the shirt collar and throw himself upon him.

"Fuckin tease," Curt muttered, before stepping towards Owen, taking in the height his partner had over him. He glanced down towards the buttons, undoing just one of them, "I didn't hear a car come up. Did you walk?"

[askowencarvour]

"No, I've learned to fly in my spare time," Owen sassed. "Yes, I walked. Don't need a car around here, Mega. It's not like America, ill designed for anything beyond automobiles."

He watched Curt, the smirk never quite fading. Maybe there was a softness to the gaze. Maybe there wasn't.

That was the problem with Owen. Too long at playing spy meant he forgot to turn it off. To let anyone close enough to see the truth.

"Got a mission soon?" Owen pried. "Or are you stuck in this safehouse for a while? Because I could... keep you company, I suppose. Kill my own boredom while making sure you behave. Two birds, one stone."

[ask-agentmega]

"No... no mission soon. Waiting for everything with the last one to get cleared up," Curt shrugged, taking the slightest step from Owen. "Do you want anything? Food or... anything?"

He turned his back to Owen, stepping into the small safe house kitchen, "I've got... well. Not much."

[askowencarvour]

"Got a smoke?" Owen shrugged off the damp shirt, bare torso exposed to the air for a moment or two as Curt turned, before he plucked up Mega's signature black and red jacket and draped it over himself in place of anything else.

He flopped on the sofa, toed off his shoes, and kicked his feet up on the other end. Sprawling across to take up all the space, borrowed jacket hanging open as he leaned back with a deep-set sigh. "Still take after your mother like that. Trying to take care of everyone, worrying all the time. Going to come back to bite you in the ass, love."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt turned back to him, but shut his eyes fast when he noticed Owen's chest, and his jacket covering him. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as his stomach turned to knots. Fuck.

"Yeah, got some in the drawer."

He didn't comment on the taking care of others thing, he wasn't ready to think on it. But, he knew Owen was probably right. Owen tended to be.

He came from behind the sofa, "Move your feet." He spoke with a bit too much annoyance, it made him sound like he cared more than he did.

[askowencarvour]

Owen scowled but he shifted his feet. "I'll get them myself, then," he grumbled.

He trudged over and slid open the indicated drawer, drawing out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He tapped one free, drew out his lighter from his pants pocket, flicked it to life, and then pulled in a breath to make it catch. Once it did, he shoved the pack into the jacket pocket - likely forgetting it wasn't his - and clicked the lighter closed.

The smoke curled up around his face, the dry air colored by the acrid smell. He exhaled and his shoulders loosened. "Finally," he breathed.

He padded back over, more at ease, and slid back into place on the sofa. And then promptly lifted his feet to put in Curt's lap like they belonged there. "Evening plans, Mega?" One dark eyebrow rose in question as he shifted the smoke between two long fingers and held it aside.

[ask-agentmega]

He laughed.

"Stay in, get drunk, go to bed. Until you showed up, at least."

Curt pressed his fingers to Owen's cigarette and took it out of his hand, taking a long drag. He settled himself against the couch, handing the cigarette back to Owen.

"And you? Evening plans?"

[askowencarvour]

He acted like he needed to think. As if he didn't know just what he had in mind and could not name it with a few simple syllables.

Then again, it was more fun to tease. To watch the look on Mega's face, all pink cheeked and easy to read.

"Hmm," Owen hummed, taking back the cigarette for another drag. "Could still stay in," he noted. "Drink some disgusting bourbon you so adore," he allowed slowly, as the smoke passed back and forth between them, growing smaller and smaller, the ashes tapped into an empty coaster on a side table. "Go to bed," he finished.

He intended the suggestion in his words. Let Mega imagine what he liked, whatever popped into that darling little head of his.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt closed his eyes, turning his head to Owen, a smile cracking across his face.

"Well, since you're here... might as well do them all. We've got time."

He couldn't help but smile, knowing he was falling into old patterns which he told himself he would indeed avoid. Yet he found that in the moment, glancing at Owen's profile, drinking him in while he's in the flesh, he could not live by the rules he'd put in place for himself.

[askowencarvour]

"Might as well," he agreed and snuffed out the cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter anyway.

Owen leaned over, caught Curt's chin in two fingers, and kissed him. It was not slow nor particularly sweet, but it was not harsh and rough either. Somehow, it balanced between the two perfectly.

An exhale after, "Finally," and it was an echo of the first inhale of nicotine. The one secret Mega had earned from Owen - that this too, was a drug that he waited for with reverence and tension. Could watch Owen's shoulders loosen the rest of the way, eyes half-lidded, and think that maybe this made it all worth it.

Even if it wouldn't last.

[ask-agentmega]

A grin pealed its way onto Curt's face as he hummed against Owen's lips. He'd missed this, even if he didn't want to admit it. This... tenderness. It all felt too good.

He cupped the back of Owen's head, fingers tangling into his hair, heart racing inside his chest.

"Damn it, Carvour," he cursed Owen, but it was more to himself. He made it too easy, he knew that. But it was unavoidable. And it was good. It healed his broken mind, even if it fractured other sections of it, "Missed you."

[askowencarvour]

"I know you did, love," he voiced, rather than admit the same in return. "You always do," he chided and shifted enough to crowd Mega into the corner of the sofa, looming over as he kissed him once more.

Trailed to the edge of Mega's jaw and left a hickey that could be hidden just below the collar if necessary.

No one needed to know how his ribcage rattled and warmed with the contact shared. No one could decipher the secrets that they shared between them told only between the slide of lips and the nip of teeth. No one could stop them, even if it would be better for all parties if they did - only because Owen did not know how to be kind in a way that worked and Curt did not know how to be careful enough to care.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt's mouth lay open, exhales deep as Owen nipped at his skin. He let it happen, fingers grasping at Owen's hair as he pulled him closer, their thighs brushing against each other. Curt wanted him closer, wanted to pull Owen against him and feel their racing hearts against each other.

He kissed Owen’s ear as his partner bit at his neck, letting out a soft curse that came out as a whimper.

“Did you miss me?”

He had to ask. He wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t.

[askowencarvour]

Owen paused and pulled back enough to look Mega in the eyes. Held there with a gaze that was predator sharp, the kind he used in interrogations - cunning and quiet.

Then he smiled, crooked as always, "Do you have to ask?" He quipped.

Something must have flickered across Mega's face. Something that caused the surefire smirk on Owen's face to flicker with a hint of guilt and knowing.

He leaned in and for a moment, he softened. Skimmed fingers gently up over Curt's chest and pressed one hand palm flat over his sternum, as if trying to reach the organ beneath through layers of cloth and flesh and muscle. Spoke in a hushed whisper, hardly more than a breath next to the other man's ear, "'Miss' is too tame a word for what it feels like to be without half of yourself."

Then he bit down over Curt's collarbone. A distraction, or maybe a counterpoint of harsh to the sweet so that he could hide behind it.

[ask-agentmega]

A laugh pulled Curt from his trance for only a moment, but then with Owen's teeth against his skin, his whole body jolted back into his unending lust. His eyes were glazed, drunk off this feeling, this tension between them, Owen's hand laying on his chest.

Curt's fingers went from his hair down to his shirt, undoing the rest of the buttons he had left. Once he was finished, he cupped Owen's face in his hands and pulled him away from his chest, forcing a kiss. Sensual this time, needy. Hungry.

"I can't fucking stand you sometimes," he muttered, before biting down on Owen's lip, tugging it slightly. He needed to taste him, every piece of skin, every bit of flesh, he needed it all.

[askowencarvour]

Owen growled low and met the kiss with the taste of iron on his lips that Curt has pulled from him. Frantic, needy, a touch desperate, whatever you wanted to call it Owen didn't care. He only kissed so hard that it might bruise.

The slide of tongues meeting, the tug of clothes to scatter them wherever without care.

"Whatever you have to say to comfort yourself, Mega," he hissed between panted breaths.

They had stayed in, yes. But they'd skip the bourbon, and might very well skip the bed if things continued, given Owen's reaching hands.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt chuckled, because it was all he could do. He knew Owen was right, but what was the use of letting him win? He placed his palms on Owen's naked chest, fingers sliding under the unbuttoned shirt, feeling his muscles flex as he moved.

"We're not moving." He muttered, "Not letting you."

His head fell to Owen's neck, nipping the skin, missing his taste.

"Fuck this shit," he grumbled, lifting his shirt over his head and letting it fall off the couch, before his mouth returned to attacking Owen's. He was needy, desperate, pent-up rage finally releasing from him.

[askowencarvour]

As callous as Owen might have acted, his hands spoke in touches that spoke of gentleness, in a sense.

The way he buried fingers near the nape of Curt’s collar, fingertips buried in his hair, and guided him closer. Coaxed him to do as he pleased, with soft sounds and hissed inhales. “Never said I... I wanted to... Mega,” he managed.

Owen meant to tumble at least to the side on the sofa, but Mega seemed literal on the ‘not moving’ front, so he rolled a nipple between thumb and forefinger just to elicit a gasp from Curt long enough for him to shift them both somewhat more horizontal in direction. Clever, deft fingers good at picking locks or snipping dangerous wires plucked at the button of Curt’s jeans as his other hand tugged on the belt loops, “Off,” he commanded. “If you’re so impatient, what’s the use in waiting?”

[askowencarvour]

Do you have any tips and tricks for spy work👀

Tips and tricks, then? Very well.

First off, a proper spy wouldn’t even look like a spy. If you’re attempting the mysterious, aloof nonsense you’ll just look like an arse, instead of properly forgettable. A remarkable man will be remembered but an unremarkable one will be forgotten as soon as he leaves the room.

Keep an exit strategy on hand. Doors, windows, stairs, balconies, dumbwaiters if you’re desperate and small enough.

Don’t improvise lies you won’t remember. And for the love of everything, don’t embellish it on the retelling, because you will get caught.

That’s it for now. Should suffice to keep you out of trouble.

[herainsorcia]

[ask-agentmega]

Did Cynthia chew you out that badly, Mega?

Or are you just ignoring me?

@askowencarvour

[Ooc: Man that comes across as needy. Maybe that's just Curtwen idk. Sorry lol.]

…ignoring you

[askowencarvour]

You think you can ignore me that easily, Mega?

As if I don't know every habit and quirk of yours, as if I don't keep every dangerous secret poised behind my teeth for you and you alone to know, as if I can't predict just where and when I can find you again.

Which does remind me...

What a lovely tailored black suit jacket on you. Is that new? 😏

[ask-agentmega]

listen, Carvour. I’m sick of this shit. You’ve gotten me in trouble and I’m saving my ass by ignoring you. I appreciate your love of my new suit but this just… we knew this was gonna happen. So quit pretending like it’s something you can avoid

[askowencarvour]

We live for trouble, love. It's kind of part of the package.

Man up a little.

Besides, I'm outside your bloody safehouse you idiot. How else would I know about the new suit, idiot American?

God above, Mega. Just open the door.

[ask-agentmega]

It's- it's raining you dumbass! Get inside, fucking hell.

Why are you here? Cmon, Owen, what the fuck?

[askowencarvour]

He doesn't bother to wipe the rain off of himself as he steps in. It drips from his dark hair, slips over his eyelashes and gathers over his tense shoulders.

"I'm here because otherwise it's dull and boring as tap water alone."

"Too bloody quiet," he adds.

A shuffle from foot to foot, glancing aside. One could think he was taking in the safehouse, but anyone that knew Owen better would know deflection when they saw it.

"And..." he began, "perhaps I was wondering if Cynthia would change your assignment. Get you away from me."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt crosses his arms. "You can ask her, but you know what the answer will be."

He presses his lips together, "You're dripping water everywhere. Take your shit off."

[askowencarvour]

A glare cuts Mega's way, but Owen shrugs out of his dark jacket and tosses it aside. "I'd rather not test her ire any further. I'll be lucky enough if she doesn't throw a knife at me."

He pauses, "For the fifth time, I might add."

Then Owen smirks and unbuttons the top three buttons of his damp dress shirt. "You know, if you wanted me out of my clothes, love, there are other ways about it." The motions halt, and Owen spreads out his hands in the air, jerks his chin towards himself in invitation. "You want the rest off, Mega?"

The smile grows crooked on his features, haughty as usual. He does so like to hide behind the debonair mask when he can. "Then I say you've got hands. Put them to use."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt's face stiffens, Owen's chest hair peeking out just enough for him to notice it, for him to want to grab Owen by the shirt collar and throw himself upon him.

"Fuckin tease," Curt muttered, before stepping towards Owen, taking in the height his partner had over him. He glanced down towards the buttons, undoing just one of them, "I didn't hear a car come up. Did you walk?"

[askowencarvour]

"No, I've learned to fly in my spare time," Owen sassed. "Yes, I walked. Don't need a car around here, Mega. It's not like America, ill designed for anything beyond automobiles."

He watched Curt, the smirk never quite fading. Maybe there was a softness to the gaze. Maybe there wasn't.

That was the problem with Owen. Too long at playing spy meant he forgot to turn it off. To let anyone close enough to see the truth.

"Got a mission soon?" Owen pried. "Or are you stuck in this safehouse for a while? Because I could... keep you company, I suppose. Kill my own boredom while making sure you behave. Two birds, one stone."

[ask-agentmega]

"No... no mission soon. Waiting for everything with the last one to get cleared up," Curt shrugged, taking the slightest step from Owen. "Do you want anything? Food or... anything?"

He turned his back to Owen, stepping into the small safe house kitchen, "I've got... well. Not much."

[askowencarvour]

"Got a smoke?" Owen shrugged off the damp shirt, bare torso exposed to the air for a moment or two as Curt turned, before he plucked up Mega's signature black and red jacket and draped it over himself in place of anything else.

He flopped on the sofa, toed off his shoes, and kicked his feet up on the other end. Sprawling across to take up all the space, borrowed jacket hanging open as he leaned back with a deep-set sigh. "Still take after your mother like that. Trying to take care of everyone, worrying all the time. Going to come back to bite you in the ass, love."

[ask-agentmega]

Curt turned back to him, but shut his eyes fast when he noticed Owen's chest, and his jacket covering him. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as his stomach turned to knots. Fuck.

"Yeah, got some in the drawer."

He didn't comment on the taking care of others thing, he wasn't ready to think on it. But, he knew Owen was probably right. Owen tended to be.

He came from behind the sofa, "Move your feet." He spoke with a bit too much annoyance, it made him sound like he cared more than he did.

[askowencarvour]

Owen scowled but he shifted his feet. "I'll get them myself, then," he grumbled.

He trudged over and slid open the indicated drawer, drawing out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He tapped one free, drew out his lighter from his pants pocket, flicked it to life, and then pulled in a breath to make it catch. Once it did, he shoved the pack into the jacket pocket - likely forgetting it wasn't his - and clicked the lighter closed.

The smoke curled up around his face, the dry air colored by the acrid smell. He exhaled and his shoulders loosened. "Finally," he breathed.

He padded back over, more at ease, and slid back into place on the sofa. And then promptly lifted his feet to put in Curt's lap like they belonged there. "Evening plans, Mega?" One dark eyebrow rose in question as he shifted the smoke between two long fingers and held it aside.

[ask-agentmega]

He laughed.

"Stay in, get drunk, go to bed. Until you showed up, at least."

Curt pressed his fingers to Owen's cigarette and took it out of his hand, taking a long drag. He settled himself against the couch, handing the cigarette back to Owen.

"And you? Evening plans?"

[askowencarvour]

He acted like he needed to think. As if he didn't know just what he had in mind and could not name it with a few simple syllables.

Then again, it was more fun to tease. To watch the look on Mega's face, all pink cheeked and easy to read.

"Hmm," Owen hummed, taking back the cigarette for another drag. "Could still stay in," he noted. "Drink some disgusting bourbon you so adore," he allowed slowly, as the smoke passed back and forth between them, growing smaller and smaller, the ashes tapped into an empty coaster on a side table. "Go to bed," he finished.

He intended the suggestion in his words. Let Mega imagine what he liked, whatever popped into that darling little head of his.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt closed his eyes, turning his head to Owen, a smile cracking across his face.

"Well, since you're here... might as well do them all. We've got time."

He couldn't help but smile, knowing he was falling into old patterns which he told himself he would indeed avoid. Yet he found that in the moment, glancing at Owen's profile, drinking him in while he's in the flesh, he could not live by the rules he'd put in place for himself.

[askowencarvour]

"Might as well," he agreed and snuffed out the cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter anyway.

Owen leaned over, caught Curt's chin in two fingers, and kissed him. It was not slow nor particularly sweet, but it was not harsh and rough either. Somehow, it balanced between the two perfectly.

An exhale after, "Finally," and it was an echo of the first inhale of nicotine. The one secret Mega had earned from Owen - that this too, was a drug that he waited for with reverence and tension. Could watch Owen's shoulders loosen the rest of the way, eyes half-lidded, and think that maybe this made it all worth it.

Even if it wouldn't last.

[ask-agentmega]

A grin pealed its way onto Curt's face as he hummed against Owen's lips. He'd missed this, even if he didn't want to admit it. This... tenderness. It all felt too good.

He cupped the back of Owen's head, fingers tangling into his hair, heart racing inside his chest.

"Damn it, Carvour," he cursed Owen, but it was more to himself. He made it too easy, he knew that. But it was unavoidable. And it was good. It healed his broken mind, even if it fractured other sections of it, "Missed you."

[askowencarvour]

"I know you did, love," he voiced, rather than admit the same in return. "You always do," he chided and shifted enough to crowd Mega into the corner of the sofa, looming over as he kissed him once more.

Trailed to the edge of Mega's jaw and left a hickey that could be hidden just below the collar if necessary.

No one needed to know how his ribcage rattled and warmed with the contact shared. No one could decipher the secrets that they shared between them told only between the slide of lips and the nip of teeth. No one could stop them, even if it would be better for all parties if they did - only because Owen did not know how to be kind in a way that worked and Curt did not know how to be careful enough to care.

[ask-agentmega]

Curt's mouth lay open, exhales deep as Owen nipped at his skin. He let it happen, fingers grasping at Owen's hair as he pulled him closer, their thighs brushing against each other. Curt wanted him closer, wanted to pull Owen against him and feel their racing hearts against each other.

He kissed Owen’s ear as his partner bit at his neck, letting out a soft curse that came out as a whimper.

“Did you miss me?”

He had to ask. He wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t.

[askowencarvour]

Owen paused and pulled back enough to look Mega in the eyes. Held there with a gaze that was predator sharp, the kind he used in interrogations - cunning and quiet.

Then he smiled, crooked as always, "Do you have to ask?" He quipped.

Something must have flickered across Mega's face. Something that caused the surefire smirk on Owen's face to flicker with a hint of guilt and knowing.

He leaned in and for a moment, he softened. Skimmed fingers gently up over Curt's chest and pressed one hand palm flat over his sternum, as if trying to reach the organ beneath through layers of cloth and flesh and muscle. Spoke in a hushed whisper, hardly more than a breath next to the other man's ear, "'Miss' is too tame a word for what it feels like to be without half of yourself."

Then he bit down over Curt's collarbone. A distraction, or maybe a counterpoint of harsh to the sweet so that he could hide behind it.

[ask-agentmega]

A laugh pulled Curt from his trance for only a moment, but then with Owen's teeth against his skin, his whole body jolted back into his unending lust. His eyes were glazed, drunk off this feeling, this tension between them, Owen's hand laying on his chest.

Curt's fingers went from his hair down to his shirt, undoing the rest of the buttons he had left. Once he was finished, he cupped Owen's face in his hands and pulled him away from his chest, forcing a kiss. Sensual this time, needy. Hungry.

"I can't fucking stand you sometimes," he muttered, before biting down on Owen's lip, tugging it slightly. He needed to taste him, every piece of skin, every bit of flesh, he needed it all.

[askowencarvour]

Owen growled low and met the kiss with the taste of iron on his lips that Curt has pulled from him. Frantic, needy, a touch desperate, whatever you wanted to call it Owen didn't care. He only kissed so hard that it might bruise.

The slide of tongues meeting, the tug of clothes to scatter them wherever without care.

"Whatever you have to say to comfort yourself, Mega," he hissed between panted breaths.

They had stayed in, yes. But they'd skip the bourbon, and might very well skip the bed if things continued, given Owen's reaching hands.