who_is_she | meet the parents

meet the parents

Owen wasn't sure who was more nervous, him or Dimitri.

Telling his mom about his sexuality had gone shockingly smooth, even though he'd had to do it via webcam, and she hadn't been surprised at all. She said she'd been expecting it, actually, which was a little unsettling to Owen because he certainly hadn't been. It hadn't really been until he'd kissed Dimitri that he'd thought being gay was something he could do, something he could be. Dimitri had been very persuasive.

Then she'd wrangled Owen into taking a trip to visit and bringing Dimitri (which he hadn't been opposed to, as he hadn't seen her in months and missed her dearly). It was still nerve-wracking though, mostly because Dimitri had been worried about it and his nerves had leaked into Owen. He couldn't imagine anything his mother wouldn't like about Dimitri, though he was a little worried if she would get caught up in the way they met, and how Dimitri had spent the last two years in prison, but he didn't think his mom would judge Dimitri like that. Still, even however irrational the fear was, it still stuck to his skin.

Owen was methodically checking his bags, counting his socks and underwear and making sure he'd packed an extra pair of pants, as the car to take them to the airport would be arriving soon and he wanted to make sure.

"Hey, Dimitri?" he called through the apartment, "Did you check all your bags for everything you'll need?"

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"What? Yeah," Dimitri lied. He'd been too nervous to really pack, and had just sort of decided to throw a bunch of shit into a bag and hope for the best. He'd made an attempt to cover up the tattoos on his arms and legs with a long sleeve flannel and some jeans without holes in them, but he hadn't quite been able to cover up the ones on his hands, even following a tutorial he'd found online. He'd tried fingerless gloves, but decided they were trashy looking, and didn't do much to cover the tattoos on his knuckles reading "CASH ONLY." He was still scrubbing at them with some liquid foundation he'd picked up at the pharmacy in a desperate last minute attempt to hide them.

He'd never been so scared in his life, which was saying a lot, because he'd been scared plenty of times. He wasn't ready for Owen's mom to meet him and tell him he wasn't good enough for her son, to hear all the things he told himself every day coming from another person, from someone he wanted very much to like him. Usually, he was pretty good about not letting his own emotions spill out into other people's heads, but right now the effort he was putting into not letting his feelings affect Owen was exhausting him.

Edited 2015-02-27 22:19 (UTC)

Owen frowns a little at Dimitri's distracted-sounding response, and gives up on recounting his socks to go check on him.

Dimitri looks a little frazzled, to say the least, hunched over and scrubbing at his knuckles. Owen's heart aches a little for what Dimitri must be putting himself through--he was always too hard on himself, and was no doubt expecting the worst.

Owen came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Dimitri's waist, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

"Hey," he says gently, kissing at Dimitri's ear. It's still a little thrilling that he can do this; walk up to Dimitri and hug him and kiss him, just because he likes it and he can, "What are you doing?"

Dimitri stops scrubbing when Owen comes up behind him, and relaxes a little at the touch. He leans his head against Owen's and breathes a loud sigh as he looks down at his hands, where his tattoos are still plainly visible.

"Fucking nothing, apparently," he groans dejectedly, "Trying to...cover up this shit so your mom won't think your boyfriend is a tattooed druggie freak."

"She won't care about your tattoos," Owen says, reaching out with a hand to take one of Dimitri's, running his thumb over the letters, "I think she has one, anyway. Maybe you guys can compare," Owen says, chuckling a little, then replacing his hand around Dimitri's waist and tilting his head to kiss Dimitri's neck.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, one," Dimitri groans, "She's not like...covered in them." His breathing was starting to become less frantic, however, and after he lets Owen kiss his neck a few times he turns around to face him. He hugs him, leaning into him, enjoying the warmth of his body against his own.

"Also I've never flown," he sighs, burying his face in Owen's neck, "So I'm not sure how that's going to go."

"It'll be fine," Owen says, rubbing his hands reassuringly over Dimitri's back, "I'll hold your hand."

Their trip is relatively painless, and Owen keeps his promise and ends up holding Dimitri's hand for most of the flight. He breaks away when they land to take hold of his carry-on instead, and leads the way into the terminal. He looks around for his mom, and doesn't spot her until there's a shouted "Owen!" and he hurries over to give her a big hug.

She's considerably shorter than Owen, and he had to bend down to hug her properly, but they have the same soft, tousled brown hair and the same green eyes.

"Hi, mom," Owen says, grinning hard as he pulls back to look her in the face, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart," she says, patting his cheek, and then raises her eyebrows expectantly, peeking over Owen's shoulder.

"Oh! Right, um," Owen says, ducking backwards to wave Dimitri forwards, "Mom, this is Dimitri. My, um, my b-boyfriend," he says, stumbling over the last word and making his mom grin.

Dimitri had been hanging back, as if he could avoid being introduced or spoken to. He couldn't, of course, and when he's introduced, he gives a slight, somewhat shy wave.

"Yeah, hey, it's really nice to meet you, Ms. Libbey," Dimitri says, flashing her a constipated looking smile. He pulls his hand out of his sleeve where he'd been hiding it, shaking her hand quickly before withdrawing it again, "Owen, uh, talks about you all the time. Seriously, all the time."

He speaks slowly, making sure no profanities slip out; This was the woman who'd made Owen use a swear jar.

"Please, call me Suzanne," she says gracefully, "And I could say the same about you. Ever since he called me up to tell me he made friends with some would-be bank robber it's been Dimitri this and Dimitri that," she says, laughing when Owen flushes, "Honestly, I'm surprised it took him two years to tell me you two were dating."

"We weren't dating then! We started dating like a week before I told you!" Owen protests, flushing badly still. Suzanne makes a thoughtful noise and raises an eyebrow at Dimitri, as if daring him to agree with Owen.

"You really waited two years to make your move?" she asks, and Owen gapes at her.

"Mom!" he says, mortified.

Dimitri had gotten sidetracked thinking about how he was definitely never, ever going to be able to call this woman Suzanne when she asks her question.

"No, no ma'am," Dimitri stammers, shaking his head as he shoves his hands into his pockets, "I, uh, I-I never did, he...made a move on me, actually."

His face was burning from embarrassment and panic, remembering the circumstances under which they had actually gotten together and feeling mortified that he was even thinking about them in front of her let alone mentioning them, and he stares down at his shoes.

"Oh, my God," Owen mumbles, his face burning as he covers his eyes with a palm. After a beat Suzanne bursts out laughing, startling Owen.

"Oh, your faces!" she says, doubling over and laughing so hard tears come to her eyes. She straightens after a moment, her bright grin bearing a striking resemblance to the same one Owen had, "I'm just fucking around, c'mon, get in here!" She says, opening her arms and advancing to give Dimitri a hug, "I've never known Owen to be a bad judge of character, so the fact that he likes you tells me everything I need to know. So relax!" she says, slapping Dimitri on the back as she pulls away from the hug.

"Mom!" Owen says again, scandalized at the swear he'd just heard drop so casually from his mother's mouth. Suzanne gives him an affectionate, if somewhat condescending, look.

"Honey, you're an adult, I can swear if I want to. So can you, for that matter."

"Yeah, Owen," Dimitri laughs, shakily, relaxing a little after the hug and the affirmation that Owen's mom didn't want to kill him. He pulls on his earlobe nervously, not so focused on hiding his tattoos anymore.

"Owen...makes me put quarters in a swear jar," Dimitri laughs, falling in step beside them as they walk to the car through the airport parking garage, "Sometimes. I'm out about a hundred bucks from it."

"Oh my god, he's still doing that?" Suzanne says, lightly smacking Owen's arm as they start to make their way out of the airport, "I swear, he used to be more strict about that thing than I was. But then he was such a well behaved kid I felt like I had to yell at him for something," she says, laughing, and Owen shakes his head.

As they walk Owen hangs back a little until he's walking in step with Dimitri, reaching out to take his hand and squeeze it as they walk, giving him a reassuring smile.

Dimitri's grateful for Owen's hand in his own, and he holds onto it tightly. He almost still can't believe this is happening, and spends most of the car ride home in a half-daze, holding onto Owen's arm. He's able to make some conversation with them, but mostly he listens, laughs quietly, and answers questions, still trying to keep a reign on his own swearing out of instinct.

The car gets too hot for his long sleeves, and he rolls them up, forgetting about his previous efforts to keep the flames tattooed on his arms hidden.

Owen's house is small and quaint, tucked into the less wealthy suburban area of the small town. Owen feels comfortable and at ease as they pull up to the house, like he has a hundred times before from the first eighteen years of his life.

"You boys can go upstairs and get settled while I finish up dinner," Suzanne says as she lets them into the house, and Owen shows Dimitri up the stairs to the room where he'd lived in as a kid. It's been partially converted into a guest room, but it still houses all of the football trophies Owen had earned, which are frankly mortifying.

"Well... this is it," he says, shrugging and flushing.

Dimitri looks around the room, nodding as he sets his bag down on the bed.

"Cool," he says, more relaxed now that it was just the two of them but still a little on edge, "Nice, uh, trophies, man."

He sits down on the bed, bouncing on it a few times before lying on his back and letting out a long sigh. His shirt rides up, and he scratches his stomach.

"That...went okay, so far, anyway," he says, sounding a little disbelieving.

"Don't sound so surprised," Owen says gently, sitting down next to Dimitri and then, after a moment of deliberation, lying down and putting a hand on the exposed part of Dimitri's stomach.

"You're a catch," Owen says with a grin, leaning down to kiss Dimitri.

Dimitri reaches up to steady Owen's face, holding him still so he can make the kiss a little bit deeper. He's smiling when they break apart.

"Yeah, right," he laughs softly, stroking Owen's cheek and tucking a few loose hairs behind his ear. He was feeling so, incredibly fond of him now, and if they had been anywhere else he would have pulled him back into the kiss, but the anxiety of being walked in on overpowers this urge.

"Smells good down there," he says, still touching Owen's face absently, "Your mom likes cooking a lot, huh?"

Owen hums a little, feeling a special little thrill at having Dimitri here, and knowing his mom's downstairs. It feels like the kind of teenage canoodling he'd never had the chance to participate in.

"Yeah, she's always been into cooking. We used to cook together on her days off," Owen explains, his hand absently tracing shapes over Dimitri's stomach, "She can do it more, now that she only works part time."

Owen rests his cheek against Dimitri's shoulder, considering that.

"I guess... She might have to go back to working, after my contract runs out," he realizes, his heart sinking.

Dimitri rolls over on his side to look at him, gripping his shoulder.

"Hey," he says, snapping his fingers, "Don't do that, okay? You know she doesn't want to trade your well being for a little extra leisure time. I'm sure she's happy to go back to work if it means you're better off. And hey, I've saved up a lot of cash while we haven't been paying rent -- well, not a lot, but enough, you know -- and...I dunno, I can help out with it for a while. It's gonna be all right, okay? And we're gonna help her out while we're here, too."

He squeezes his shoulder, reassuringly, before leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead.

Owen wraps his arms tightly around Dimitri and buries his face in Dimitri's shoulder, nodding a little.

"Thank you," he says, after collecting himself for a moment.

Outside the door, Suzanne smiles to herself, reassured that her son's boyfriend was the kind of good person that really would make Owen happy. She hadn't mistrusted Owen's judgement in the slightest, but hearing proof for herself that Dimitri held Owen's wellbeing in such high regard was a different thing entirely. Mostly, she's glad that Dimitri won't allow Owen to shoulder everything himself.

She waits thirty seconds before knocking on the door and peeking into the room, smirking a little.

"Come on, lovebirds. Dinner's ready," she says, laughing when Owen practically squawks and turns crimson.

Dimitri laughs a little at Owen's squawking and follows them downstairs to the kitchen, his cheeks a little flushed while he wonders how much of their conversation Owen's mom had heard. He helps set the table and takes a seat, his fingers drumming against his knees as he waits.

"Everything smells so good, Ms. -- Uh, Suzanne," he says with a smile, licking his lips, "Owen's made some of your recipes before, they were really great."

"Thank you, Dimitri," she says, giving him a smile as she sets down the food; mashed potatoes and gravy with pork chops, "My mother taught me to cook, but she passed when Owen was still just a baby. And ever since he was a kid Owen's been following me around in the kitchen," she says, giving her son an affectionate smile.

They carry on their conversation while they eat, Suzanne occasionally ribbing Dimitri about his tattoos, and eventually turning around and pulling up her shirt enough to reveal the elaborate floral design on her lower back. She tells Dimitri she has one more tattoo, but that one's private, which makes Owen groan and cover his ears. She also tells them both a few anecdotes about her wild youth, which was much more like Dimitri's than it was like Owen's.

When their plates are clean she stands up, starting to gather up the dishes.

"Dimitri, sweetie, can you help me with the dishes?" she asks, and gives Owen a sharp look when he stands to help to, and he sinks slowly back into his chair.

Dimitri laughs at Suzanne's stories, but refrains from sharing any of his own, fearing it might put a stain on her currently seemingly positive opinion of him. (Also, his own stories tended to be kind of sad, rather than interesting or comedic.) He had flushed a little when ribbed about his tattoos, but when she'd shown them her own, he'd rolled up his sleeves, showing the ones that could be seen on his hands and arms, and had talked a little about why he'd gotten them.

"Yeah, absolutely," Dimitri says when asked to help with the dishes, standing up from his chair and hurrying over to the sink. His heart beats a little faster when he sees the look she gives Owen when he tries to help, but he takes the scrubbing brush, and starts washing the plates before stacking them in the sink.

Suzanne stacks the dirty dishes in the sink before picking up a towel and helping Dimitri dry the clean dishes and put them away.

"So, Dimitri," she says conversationally, carrying on with the dishes as she speaks, "I get the feeling I don't need to tell you how special Owen is, and how deserving he is of only the deepest and best kinds of love. But still, he is my son, so I feel obligated to say something. I like you, Dimitri, and I think you're a good fit for Owen. He's always been... Sensitive, and a very keen judge of character. I think having someone who helps him relax, who makes him laugh, who makes him rebel a little even-- I think that's good for him," she pauses, looking over to give Dimitri a smile, "I don't think I need to warn you against hurting him, I think you already know, but I will say... Make sure you trust him. He knows what he's doing."

Dimitri swallows hard and nods, keeping his eyes fixed on the dish he was scrubbing. His breath catches in his throat, and cold sweat was building on his temples. He keeps expecting her to say something more confrontational, but she doesn't. He swallows again, still scrubbing the same dish even though there was nothing left on it to scrub away anymore.

"...Ms. -- Ma'am, I know," he says slowly, his face burning, "I really do, I...was in a real...real fuckin' bad place when he found me, and he just...changed everything, for real, I don't know where I'd be if he hadn't -- I mean, I want you to know I know, and I love him, like, more than I thought anyone could love another person."

He shuts his mouth tight, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth together and biting the inside of his cheek so hard he nearly draws blood.

Suzanne watches him for a moment, seeing the anguish written plainly on his face, and then she gently takes the plate and scrubber from his hands, setting them into the sink, and pulls him into a hug.

"I'm glad to hear it," she says, rubbing his back a few times before pulling back and giving him a bright smile, "Thank you for taking care of him for me." Then she moves away, turning back towards the sink.

"I can finish up here, why don't you two turn in?" she says, turning back once to wink at Dimitri.

Dimitri's a little overwhelmed by the hug, and he doesn't realize how long she's been holding him until she pulls away.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, okay," he nods, his voice taking on the slightly nasally quality it always did when he was on the verge of crying. He sniffs and wipes his eye on his arm, flashing her a quick smile before heading up the stairs. He stands outside the door for a minute, regaining control of himself before turning the handle and letting himself in.

"Hey," he says to Owen, his voice as calm and collected as ever now. He digs in his bag for a toothbrush, a change of clothes, and his pills, and heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"You tired?" he asks, mouth full of toothpaste.

Owen had gone upstairs in an effort to not eavesdrop on whatever it was his mom needed to say to Dimitri, but the curiosity was eating away at him anyways. He sincerely hoped she hadn't said anything terrible, like Dimitri not being good enough, but she seemed to have a genuinely positive opinion of him, at least from what Owen had seen.

When Dimitri comes into the room he looks relatively unaffected, but his eyes are a little red, and Owen ignores his question and follows him doggedly into the bathroom.

"Are you okay? What did you guys talk about?" Owen asks, giving Dimitri a worried look in the mirror.

"It's nothing," Dimitri says, trying to sound casual but still flushing a little, "She just...wanted to tell me some things, and I got a little emotional, but it's...it's cool. It was good."

He spits in the sink and cups his hands under the faucet, drinking from them and spitting to rinse his mouth, before wiping his face on his sleeve. He pulls his clothes off, slipping into a tank top and a new pair of boxers.

"Seriously," he says again, "It was...really good, actually."

"Oh," Owen says, breathing a sigh of relief and starting to smile, "Good. I'm glad. See? I knew she would love you." He says, reaching out to put his hands on Dimitri's hips and pull him back into an embrace. He'd changed into pajamas and finished his bedtime rituals while he was waiting for Dimitri, but now he doesn't feel like sleeping at all.

"Because I love you too," he says, almost whispering as he turns his head to kiss Dimitri's neck and jaw.

Dimitri smiles into Owen's shoulder as Owen leaves kisses on his neck, and he wraps his arms under Owen's, hugging him close.

"I love you," he mumbles, stroking his hands over Owen's back, "You wanna go to bed?"

Owen bites his lip at Dimitri's question, knowing from his tone that Dimitri had meant it innocently, but it still sends his imagination whirring. He's surprised at himself for wanting to have sex in the bed he'd used during his teen years, but then, he's discovered that when it comes to Dimitri, there weren't many times when Owen didn't want him.

"Yes," he says finally, his voice taking on a huskier tone, "But I don't want to go to sleep."

It takes Dimitri a minute to take Owen's meaning.

"Oh," he says at first, "You wanna, uh, watch a movie or something?"

He asks innocently, and then he notes the tone in his voice and the look in his eyes and his mouth drops open a little.

"...Here?" he asks, looking over his shoulder as if Suzanne might be standing right behind them now, "Your mom's...here, seriously? What if..."

"We can be quiet," Owen says, moving around until he's facing Dimitri, "Besides, like she said, we're adults, right?" He moves his hands under Dimitri's shirt, feeling his skin and leaning over to suck ion his neck.

"I... I want you to," Owen struggles for a moment to say the word 'fuck' and then gives up, "Do it... to me." Owen finishes, blushing hotly.

"But..." Dimitri says, nervously, even though Owen's touch and the tone of his voice were driving him crazy, "This house is so small and...forgive me, but you're not exactly the quietest guy in the world, even without anything going up in there. I mean, I don't want your mom to get up in the middle of the night to try to find the source of the braying mule sounds coming from upstairs to find me smashing in her son's back door if you know what I mean."

He was still looking around the room, a little wide eyed at the thought.

Owen opens his mouth to protest and then pauses, making a face at Dimitri's euphemism.

"My back door?" he repeats, and then shakes his head to return to the topic at hand, "Nevermind. I can be quiet! Plus her room is on the ground floor anyway! And we don't have to do, you know, that, but we could do... Other things, right?" Owen asks, pouting a little.

"We're staying here for a week. Did you want to go all that time without... You know?"

Dimitri chews his lip nervously before shaking his head.

"No," he says, "I mean, I really don't, seriously, but...man, don't make that face, that's not fair. I...guess we could do, you know, something. But...you gotta keep it down, okay?" He was almost whispering, now, and still looking over his shoulders as if he expected someone to walk up on them.

"I will, I will," Owen says, nodding, and wraps his arms around Dimitri to pull him close, pressing the half-hard bulge at the front of his PJs against Dimitri's lower abdomen.

"Dimitri, please," he all but whines, pressing his face into Dimitri's shoulder, "I want you so bad."

"Jesus, yeah, you do, don't you," Dimitri laughs in surprise, backing up until the backs of his legs touch the bed and then falling backwards onto it. He kisses Owen's mouth, hooking his thumb into the waistband of his own boxers and sliding them down far enough to expose his dick.

"What do you wanna do?" he asks, his voice still quiet but taking on a softer, more suggestive tone. He leans forward and sucks on Owen's ear.

"Hm?"

Owen follows Dimitri down to the bed, kissing him back and looking down his body when he exposes his erection.

"I want.." Owen starts, trying to think of something but getting distracted by the lines of Dimitri's tattoos, "I want to... Lick you, all over," he says finally, his ears burning and his voice low and quiet. He pushes Dimitri's shirt up and helps him pull it over his before immediately bending down to mouth at the design on Dimitri's chest, reaching down with one hand to gently run his thumb down the underside of Dimitri's cock.

"Works for me," Dimitri groans, closing his eyes and relaxing back onto the bed. His hands come up to card through Owen's hair, occasionally pulling at it gently.

"I didn't know you liked my tattoos so much," he says, cracking one eye open to give him a slight smile.

"They're... They're hot," Owen says haltingly, closing his eyes so he doesn't have to look at Dimitri, only to open them again to look down at his tattoos. He couldn't say what, exactly, was so alluring about them, except that they were on Dimitri's skin.

"You... You're so hot," Owen says, low and embarrassed and turned on, licking across the tattoo on his chest and then dropping down to tongue at his nipple.

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meet the parents

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broodmares

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Re: broodmares

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