Now You Know Me.

If you were to ask Owen’s parents who they had hoped he’d be, (TL) as long as he was creatively inclined they would be content. And Owen (TR) delivered with his love of photography. Sure it wasn’t ‘art’ in the most basic of terms, but it was it’s own form. Most of Covaire has seen Owen (BL) behind the bar at Desire’s and appreciates his sass, and candor. He’s the pure epitome of a barkeep. Owen sees himself as (BR) someone still growing and learning, with all of the heaps of lifes challenges coming his way. He’s navigating this life one step at a time out of the dark.

At that point, Patrick is right. He did indeed bait the other. He should know by now the kind of games the man before him likes to play. “I wouldn’t think you’re the sweep me off my feet sort, more like the plow me through the door kind.” He mused, getting ready to get himself a glass of something. But Patrick was always quick to get him into his grip, and at his words, Owen feels the same feeling he always does pooling in his belly, hands grabbing at the arms holding him in place. His body betrays him on a regular basis around the Chthonic. “One or two.” He muttered, defiant. But in truth, Patrick was one of a kind, having seen more of Owen than anyone else in the city. Looking back at him, he hummed. “You sure you wanna stay here?”

Never knowing precisely where Eli stood on the whole flirting with co-workers thing, Owen always toed a fine line. Eli was a good friend. Maybe one he’d tell his secret to willingly outside of Alex but Eli also seemed the kinda guy who wouldn’t give a shit either way. That much, at least, was comforting. “You were married?” A personal detail, things seldom shared. “I guess I can see it. You do look the down home type. Ranch or some shit in the middle of nowhere.” He could picture it. Eli tossing hay, rounding up the livestock. “Listen this year, I will make sure to text you and let you know when it’s happening. Then we can bet on who’ll be the jello champ. Maybe even get Viv in on it.” Thinking on some of the outfits, Owen’s face twisted a little. “No you’re welcome. I got chicken legs. Not exactly something anyone wants to see sticking out of a maid outfit. But my french is pretty good.”

Owen had never known a day in his life that wasn’t full of love and affection before he wound up in the situation that brought him to Covaire. A mother who seldom put him down, who introduced him to art and everything inbetween, a father who taught him a love for tinkering and for the ocean and all things down home southern (including a good glass of bourbon) Owen was the epitome of a child from a loving home even after transitioning. His father just asked him one thing when he came out. “Are you who I raised you to be?” And that was all that ever mattered. Owen still calls home every other day, never staying on for long and never answering questions about where it is he ran off to. He knows, should the day come where he ever decided to leave, that he would always have a place to go home to.

“There are far scarier things. Not to mention, hiding in the dark and breaking and entering when I fully expected you to just sneak up behind me was playing against the obvious.” Mere mention of the Alpha being in his vicinity could make Owen tear out of whatever environment he was in like a bat out of hell. And before he can blink, Patrick’s in his space, invading his senses. “I do remember a certain someone saying they hated being here because it’s boring? Bland? Whatever the word was, you could do with a cold shower.” It’s a half hearted attempt. Much like all the other terrible men for him, Patrick had something about him that Owen enjoyed. Quietly of course. He was getting far better at controlling his thoughts. One thing he had to give to Patrick was helping him learn to control his power.

“Ain’t that the truth.” He sighed, leaning on the bar and putting the money in the jar for the girls. At the mention of wrestling, Owen snorted. “We have that about once a year, just with more jello and less blood. Trust me when I say you’d wanna be here for that. Alex looks....” He lost his train of thought thinking on last years show and shook his head. “They all look pretty incredible playing around. It’s the clean up that’s a mother.” Glancing at Eli, he gave him a nod. “Find anyone worth being exclusive with or are you gonna hang with me until we pay off our debts?” Owen tried his very best to not get too close to any of the clients. More out of necessity than want. “Cause I gotta level, good bouncers are hard to find and since you’ve been around I’ve gotten grabbed up far less than I used to. No one’s trying to stuff me into skimpy outfits anymore.”

Owen was waiting for it. Someone to sneak up on him, Patrick to pin him to the wall. But he should have known that was too predictable. So as he sighed, half in disappointment, half in relief, he made it in the door, leaving his bag on the chair when the whispered greeting nearly had him through the roof. “JESUS. For fuck’s sake.” He muttered before he looked at the Chthonic. “You know.... you really have this habit of infuriating the ever loving hell out of me. Is it fun for you?” He asked, moving closer with arms folded. “Or do you get a strange joy out of scaring the life out of me?”

Owen could tell just about anyone how much he hated Patrick. But some days he wondered if it was hate, or just absolute irritation at how often the other was able to wrangle him into bed. The urge to roll his eyes was there but he chuckled and shook his head. “Not tonight I don’t.” Half true. Mostly because the way in which Patrick would have him would be beneficial for forgetting what a crap night is. The downfall would be wanting more. A revolving door issue at this point. Once Patrick was in front of him though, Owen’s gaze narrowed. “There are far scarier things than you in the night around here.” Being this close in that gaze made it complicated for him to think straight, but he side stepped him and continued his walk. Still. He couldn’t help but give his newfound agility a go. Looking back, he gave Patrick a ‘catch me if you can’ grin before he took off. He weaved in and out of the alley’s of Covaire, doing his best to not look back before he came skidding to a halt just in front of le Bordel. Looking around and not seeing the Chthonic, he grinned and moved to head for his room, keys at the ready.

“Trust me, I feel about as sore about it as you feel about doing it.” Owen offered as he poured the other a beer. “It is a nice change of pace to have someone in the club who actually cares when we’re being....well treated more poorly than usual. Who am I kidding if they’re not puking at me or telling me their life story, they’re complaining because there’s not enough booze in their drink.” He lamented before he watched Eli slide him money. He slid it back, shaking his head. “Nope. Your money’s no good here, because you provide company and protection. You’re a twofer.” He took a sip of his own beer from behind the bar before he began polishing some glasses. “I personally think you should get more creative with the manner in which you’re carryin’ em out. I haven’t seen you fold someone in half like a lawn chair yet. Although if they’re human, that might not be the better of ideas.”

@undercoverhunter-elijah​

There’s the funny thing about red flags. It’s like they’re there in front of your face, but you can’t see them until they’re waved right into your vision. This was one of those times. But still, Owen wasn’t scared. Confused, yes. The change in temperament was jarring. But still, he stared right at Mathias. “I can take pain.” He muttered around the hold on his jaw. “But why do you want to give me pain?”

He chuckled at her compliments and shook his head. “My goal is to go home to my bed. I don’t much like spending the night anywhere else but on my pillow.” He explained. “Not that I wouldn’t mind having fun but I’m not looking to be owned by anyone.” Looking to her, he shrugged his shoulders. “Leaving my options open, too.” When she asked if he danced, he nodded. “A little. Momma taught me a lot of ballroom stuff. Now this whole....” He flipped his hand to the group on the floor at present practically dry humping for the world to see. “Sex on the dancefloor style? Not so much.”

When Alex kissed him back, Owen felt that fluttering sensation in his stomach max out. There was nothing like it that he’d experienced before. Still when she pulled away, the smile on his face was something to behold, but he settled for keeping her close for the dance, remembering exactly what they were there for. Billboards to bring in the clients. Any spin, or dip, was done with the thought in mind that Alex was having fun. But it also garnered them both points with Viv. “So.... If you don’t go home with someone tonight...” He asked as the music wound down. “Can I walk you home?”