who_is_she | (no subject)

(no subject)

Living with Dimitri had been the most fun Owen had had in a long, long time. Part of it was just having someone there when he came home, even though he didn't leave the apartment as much these days. He'd gone on leave again soon after he'd admitted he wasn't doing well to Dimitri, after he'd finally spoken to his mom about how unhappy he was she had encouraged him to quit. Of course, he couldn't actually quit, because he was signed to a contract for another eight months, but Owen knew know that if he kept taking his psyche check-ups, kept being honest about how unhappy being a superhero had made him, they wouldn't put him back on active duty, and when the time came to renew his contract he would refuse.

At first, Owen had felt ashamed about giving up essentially--but once Dimitri had moved in with him he'd gone on and on about how much better Owen looked, how well he was taking care of himself, and his whole attitude had helped Owen make great strides in getting over his guilt and shame.

He'd been seeing a therapist as well, independent of the government agency, which had been an immense help as well.

He'd been to see his therapist today; usually the meetings were several hours long but today it had been cut short when his therapist had been called away to an emergency. Owen had decided to get groceries instead of heading right back home, but all in all he'd only been gone about forty-five minutes.

He quietly lets himself back into the apartment with his grocery bags (sometimes Dimitri slept late and he didn't want to wake him), all the while thinking how much more pleasant grocery shopping was when you had someone else to shop for.

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Dimitri had the day off, and Owen was out, which meant he finally had some time to himself. Not that he didn't enjoy Owen's company; he loved being around him, better than he'd ever liked being around another person before, and he was eager for him to get back, but some things were...hard to take care of when someone else was in the house.

He'd checked the time when he'd woken up, and, guessing that Owen wouldn't be home for another hour at least, sits up and grabs a bottle of lotion out of his bedside table as he slides his boxers down to his knees. He slicks his hand with the lotion it around his cock. He hisses a little at the contact -- it had been a while, and he was more sensitive than he realizes. He lets himself moan a little as he starts to set a pace with his hand.

Owen busies himself with putting away his groceries, but pauses when he hears a vague sound from Dimitri's room. He figures Dimitri must be awake after all and smiles to himself, glad he gets to talk to Dmitri right away. His door is wide open as Owen approaches it, and he's poised to knock on the wood of the door and call out a greeting but freezes and falls silent when he realizes what's going on.

His face immediately turns crimson and his mind whirls, he knows he should turn around and leave but his eyes are glued to where Dimitri's hand is closed around himself. He's never seen another penis, and he'd never expected to see one like this, and certainly not Dimitri's. Ever since Dimitri moved in, Owen had been having certain... feelings. He'd thought it was under control, and blamed it on any number of things, like living in close quarters, or not having anyone he's interested in dating. But then he'd started having dreams, and noticing that he got sort of tingly whenever Dimitri touched him, and he'd been starting to realize a few things about himself.

And here was the definite proof Owen hadn't wanted to find: he was standing here, watching Dimitri jerk himself off, and he was hard as a rock.

Owen finally breaks his own silence with a desperate high-pitched noise, his hand immediately slapping over his mouth, but too late to cover the sound.

Dimitri had been getting into it, letting his head tip back as he enjoyed the sensations, when he hears a sound that makes him jump. He looks up, and, to his horror, sees Owen standing there, wide eyed, looking mortified, and he jumps up to grab a pillow off the bed and cover himself with it.

"Oh -- Jesus, Jesus!" he yelps, "Christ, Owen, I thought you were out! God, oh my God I'm so sorry you -- I should have closed the -"

It's then that Dimitri notices the tented front of Owen's pants, and his embarassment turns into something entirely different. His expression shifts, and he tilts his head, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Are you...hard?"

Owen startles badly at the question, and the wide-eyed curious look on Dimitri's face, and immediately moves one hand to try and obscure the front of his pants.

"No! I'm..." Owen trail off, drawing a blank on any kind of excuse, "Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he says, a desperate, panicked tone to his voice as he turns on his heel and flees to the bathroom, where he closes and locks the door behind him.

He splashes water on his face, which seems to do nothing at all, because when he looks in the mirror his face is the color of a tomato and his pants are still too tight. He looks down at the front of his pants with something like mingled horror and dread, because he wasn't so sure how he could still convince himself he was straight when he got so hard watching his roommate--his gay roommate, who he cared for deeply--jerk off.

He doesn't want this, never wanted this, can still remember the other guys in the football team locker room laughing and joking about how sick it was to be gay, how they'd fling the word around like an insult, how Owen had never been able to relax around them, too afraid to be honest with himself or risk them reading the truth on his face.

That same fear still runs through him, but now he worries about his mom being disappointed, all the times she'd asked him about a girlfriend, talked casually about when he'd get married and she'd have grandchildren. He thinks about all the people from his small town who would hate him, and he's afraid.

I'm so fucking sick of being afraid, he thinks, savagely, and then punches the mirror, shattering it.

Dimitri trips back into his boxers and pulls on a pair of sweatpants quickly and stands up, pacing back and forth across the floor as he considers the situation. Several times he stops in front of the bathroom door, his hand hovering as he thinks about knocking, but he doesn't actually do it until he hears the sound of shattering glass. He pushes the door open, still red-faced, and looks at him nervously.

"Hey, whoah, you all right? What's going on in --" he spots the mirror, and raises his eyebrows.

"...Do we have to pay for that?" he asks, scratching his neck, "I mean...not important, I guess, but...hey," he reaches out, patting him uncertainly on the shoulder, "It's all right, man, I, uh..."

"I'll fix it," Owen says as he leans over the sink, his damp hair hanging over his face. He shies away when Dimitri touches him, jerking away and taking a couple steps back, his expression grim and determined. His expression crumbles quickly when he gets a good look at Dimitri, turning pained and devastated.

"I can't-- I can't--" he tries to say and then grunts, rubbing his hands over his face and pushing them back into his hair. After a beat he growls in frustration and springs forward, framing Dimitri's face in his hands and kissing him, hard and fast.

"There!" he says when he pulls back, waving his hands expressively, "That's it! That's... That's everything, okay? I-- I'm gay, and I think I'm in love with you, and that's it. That's the thing." He falls silent finally, his arms dropping down to his sides as he breathes hard, still looking at Dimitri with that pained look.

Dimitri is stunned when Owen kisses him, and he stands there, blinking as he wipes his mouth and tries to process what just happened.

"...Okay," ha says, still visibly shocked, "First of all, that was...pretty hot. Second of all, I've...definitely been in love with you for at least a year, third of all...I'm sorry, it's...really hard to talk about this when we both have boners, I'm trying to look at your face but your dick's popping out at me right now, do you want to...get that resolved?"

"Oh my god," Owen groans, covering his face again with his hands and taking a step back, "Dimitri," he says, his voice almost a whine. He was more prepared to talk about how he'd been repressing his identity for most of his life than he was to talk about anybody's... erections.

"I've, I've never really, um, done anything with... Like that, okay? I mean, there was once, with my girlfriend in high school but that... I don't think that counts cause I didn't..." he trails off, thoroughly embarrassed, his face beet red and still hidden behind his hands, "So I don't... I don't know if I can..."

Dimitri laughs a little, still flushed as he scrubs his face with one hand.

"Hey, look, it's not a big deal," he says with a slight chuckle, "I mean...not that it's not a big deal like it doesn't matter, because it does, to me, 'cause i like you, so I don't mean it would be a casual...thing, but, I mean...I dunno, I've never really done anything but...give blowjobs, so I don't have any lofty expectations for you to live up to."

He takes a step forward, curiously sticking his fingers into the belt loops of Owen's pants.

Owen whines when Dimitri touches him, his hands still pressed firmly into his face.

"I like you too," he says, his voice muffled by his hands. He takes a deep breath, the air whistling through his palms when he breathes out, and slowly moves his fingers to peek at Dimitri with one eye.

"Maybe, um, we should... Go somewhere without glass all over the floor?"

Dimitri laughs, and nods in agreement.

"Yeah," he chuckles, wrapping one arm around Owen's broad shoulders, "Shards of glass in my loins doesn't really get me going." He kisses him again, taking a few careful steps backwards out of the bathroom until they're sitting on the bed, without breaking the kiss. He swings his leg over Owen's lap and sits up over him, monitoring his expression for any signs of discomfort.

"Okay?" he asks.

Owen's breath catches in his throat when Dimitri kisses him, and he doesn't even realize they're moving until he its down on the bed. He looks up at Dimitri with wide eyes, not quite believing what's happening.

"I'm, um... I'm nervous," Owen admits quietly, not sure what to do with his hands as they hover over Dimitri's hips and then fall down to curl into the blanket.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Dimitri says quietly, sitting on Owen's knees. He rests his hand on one of the hands Owen had rested on the bed, and the tone of Owen's voice makes it click for him how seriously Owen was taking this. It makes him blush a little, because he'd never been with anyone who took it seriously, who took him seriously or cared what he thought or felt.

"We don't...have to, if you're not, uh, ready," he says awkwardly, "But you've...seriously got nothing to be nervous about. Like, nothing."

Owen looks up at Dimitri, sees the slight apprehension in his eyes, even though he's trying to mask it, and Owen starts to smile. He turns his hand under Dimitri's, moving so he can lace their fingers together.

"No, I'm... I'm okay," he says, calmer now just from knowing Dimitri wasn't totally composed either, "Let's just... Go slow, okay?" He reaches up with his other hand, carefully putting it on Dimitri's jaw and drawing him back down into a tender kiss.

"...Oh," Dimitri mumbles into the kiss, and he can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, now. This wasn't at all what he was used to, or what he was expecting based on the rough way Owen had kissed him a few minutes ago. The way Owen kisses him now nearly melts him, and when it breaks apart the flush on his nose has spread to his cheeks and ears, and he swallows hard.

He holds Owen's hand a little longer, before carefully sliding it up his leg and letting it rest on his hip. He wasn't sure how slow "slow" meant, so for now, he follows Owen's lead, deciding to let him take as long as he wants to.

Owen feels his face burning when Dimitri puts his hand on his hip, but no matter how embarrassed he currently is he still--likes it. That thought makes him a little bolder, and he opens his mouth into the kiss to gently press his tongue against Dimitri's lips. He decides he likes the taste of Dimitri's mouth, even though it doesn't taste like much of anything.

Owen moves his hand down from Dimitri's face and snakes both hands around his waist, lacing them together at the small of Dimitri's back, enjoying the gentle contact.

Dimitri is taken aback by how good Owen is at kissing, and he returns his kisses eagerly, opening his mouth and sucking lightly on Owen's tongue. A slight, involuntary moan escapes him, and his hands slide over Owen's chest and shoulders, feeling the muscles there.

"Geeze, you're...really fucking built," Dimitri laughs, and he can't help but grind his hips into the front of Owen's pants a little. He had gotten so hard it was almost starting to hurt.

"Don't swear," Owen chastises gently, chuckling anyways. His laugh turns into a moan halfway through that's shockingly loud to Owen's ears, and he pulls back to slap a hand over his mouth, mortified by the breathy, needy sound that had just come out of him.

"Oh god," he says, closing his eyes, "That was loud, wasn't it?"

Dimitri laughs a little in surprise, and he decides he definitely likes him like this.

"Nah, that was hot," he says, leaning forward and placing a sucking kiss to his jaw. He leans forward and bites his ear, lightly, and slides down off of him, so he's kneeling on the floor between his legs. He decides to go for it, seeing as they've been making out for a while, now, so he unfastens his pants and slides them down a little.

"You're gonna like this," he says, cupping the bulge at the front of his underwear and giving it a squeeze.

"Oh, my god," Owen breathes when Dimitri slides out of his lap, starting to pant when he realizes Dimitri's intent. He bites his lip when Dimitri cups him, his hips involuntarily jerking forward into the friction, and he moans again but manages to keep his mouth closed so it's not quite as loud as the first.

"Oh, god, Dimitri," he breathes, his embarrassment all but forgotten in the overwhelming arousal at what Dimitri was about to do. He lifts his hips again, on purpose this time, and hooks his thumbs into his underwear and slides them down over his hips, his erection popping free.

Dimitri spits into the palm of his hand before wrapping it around the shaft of Owen's dick, giving it a few slow pumps before licking a line from the base up to the head. He gives the tip a few good sucks before he takes more of him into his mouth, and bobs he starts bobbing his head up and down, pushing the head of his cock back further into his throat.

He reaches to his own pants while he works, sliding them down far enough to expose his own cock. He starts stroking himself again, and moans softly at the touch.

The first touch of Dimitri's hand on him makes Owen moan again, and he covers his mouth with one hand, and then quickly the other when he still can't stop himself from moaning helplessly, loudly, even from behind his hands. He watches Dimitri work with wide eyes, and sees when Dimitri's free hand starts working down below where Owen can see. He wants to ask, wants to help, but he knows the moment he uncovers his mouth he won't be able to anything but moan.

Dimitri's mouth is good, too, warm and soft and unlike anything Owen has ever felt. His thighs start to tremble as he approaches the edge of orgasm, and he moans into his hands, high and whining, hoping that's enough of a warning to Dimitri because he can't budge his hands from over his mouth. He drops his head back onto the couch, breathing hard through his nose.

Dimitri takes his warning and removes his mouth from him, replacing it with his hand and jerking him fast. He gives him a few more licks before pulling his face away completely.

"Yeah, do it," he says, nodding at him encouragingly, his voice a little broken by the way he was touching himself "I want to see you come, c'mon -- fucking shit."

Dimitri's words--swearing and all--make Owen moan wildly and he feels the orgasm coming, making his hips jerk up into Dimitri's hand. He falls onto his back, arching it and finally removing his hands from his mouth when he comes so he can grab the comforter beneath him in two fists and groan and pant. His come coats Dimitri's hands and a couple of spurts land on the shirt he hadn't removed, and after a beat Owen relaxes back onto the bed, panting hard.

"Oh, God, Dimitri, God," he says, still trembling faintly in the aftershocks of his orgasm. He leans up on one elbow, looking down his own body at Dimitri, still poised between his legs, "Can I, um, do you... need... help? Um, finishing?" Owen asks, still breathing hard and flushing badly with embarrassment over asking something so raunchy.

Dimitri grins, and he wipes his hand on his shirt before pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it aside, exposing several tattoos on his chest which he normally kept covered.

"Oh...uh...me?" Dimitri says, sounding a little surprised. His hand returns to his own cock, and he strokes himself a few more times, shuddering a little at the touch; watching Owen come had put him on edge.

"I mean...if you're okay doing that," he says, "No one's ever, uh...well, nevermind."