#joints (posts)

Owen is extremely jetlagged — he just got back from Wales and the change in timezones makes it feel like he didn't sleep through the entire nearly 11 hour flight (he doesn't know how he found a direct flight but he'd managed).

Practically the moment he's back in his flat, he flops onto the bed with a heavy sigh, kicking off his crocs so that he can curl up properly, falling asleep almost immediately. Thank goodness he's already basically wearing pyjamas.

Owen loves spending time with his dad.

The older man has shrunk significantly since Owen was a child, going from 7'4" to 6'9" in a matter of decades, but he has the same respectable presence he's always had. But regardless of how intimidating he can be, Jack Emrys is, in Owen's mind, the best damn father in the world.

And he's still an excellent engineer, hence the current activity — building a new engine for Owen's mother, Deryn's, car. The vehicle is old and most shops refuse to repair, though Deryn never never goes to repair shops. Why would she? She has her very own live-in mechanic.

Jack coughs quietly, gesturing for Owen to pass him the wrench, which Owen does with a little mumble about how he should stop smoking.

"I've been trying, lad, honest. Even cut down to one a week."

"G-good," Owen says with a smile, glad that his father is cutting down on his old smoking habit.

Owen's been at home all day.

Nobody has seen him since lunchtime but he's almost certainly in the house, or, more specifically, in his room working on something he's very excited to show his parents.

It's about an hour until he tottles out of his room, his wagon in tow as he makes his way to the kitchen, where Deryn and Jack are having a nice cup of tea together.

"Oh, hello, lad," Jack says, clearly surprised to see his youngest child in the doorway. "What're you doing up? You're usually asleep by now."

Owen points at the wagon, bouncing on his toes.

"You wanna show us something, badger?"

Owen nods enthusiastically, looking over at his mother expectantly as he moves the wagon in front of himself.

"Here, let's get the blanket off it, hm?" Deryn reaches out and pulls the blanket off of the wagon, surprised at what she sees.

An engine. Not a real one of course, but it could definitely pass as one, if not for the bright colours of the Lego used.

The smile on Jack's face as he stands up extends to everyone in the room, picking Owen up with a laugh. "Ah, look at my boy! One of the smartest in the world, he is, isn't he, Love?" He looks to Deryn, clearly very proud.

Archie squirms in Owen's firm hold, attempting to wriggle free from the sleeping bear.

"Nooo..." Is the response the smaller man gets, only being pulled further into the warm embrace. He lets out a rather exasperated sigh, trying one last time to get out of Owen's arms. When he inevitably fails and is met with an indignant, sleepy whine, Archie gives up and settles once more into being cuddled like he's a teddy bear.

"Fine. Yer lucky I don't 'ave work, y'know? Lucky yer toasty, lucky 'm tired. Luckier than a leprechaun, you are." He rambles, slowly beginning to succumb to the warmth of being held by Owen.

"Shhh.."

The larger man has been face down ass up in his bed for at least an hour now, Archie having been adamant on making sure that he was more than well-prepared for his first time bottoming. Of course, Owen had been fairly whiny through most of it, due to both pleasure and growing impatience.

But he'd gone almost worryingly quiet as soon as Archie had pushed in halfway, not because he was in pain, quite the opposite actually.

"Mm-m-more... p-please.." he whimpers softly, barely managing to string together the short request, voice and body trembling.

"'Course... lemme know if ya wanna stop, alright?" Once he gets confirmation, Archie begins to push in a bit further at an almost agonisingly slow pace — it feels like forever before they're finally pressed together and Owen breaks.

Tears roll down his face, sobbing and whining from the overwhelming feeling of fullness.

Of course the smaller man begins to worry, as any good friend would. "Owen, what's wrong? D'you need me to pull out?"

"Fff-fuck... No.. 'm ff-f-fine... f-feels s-sooo g-good..." he manages to force out through tearful whimpers.

"D'you want a minute to process?" He asks softly, running his hands along Owen's hips gently. But the man just shakes his head.

"W-wan' y' t' ff-fu-fuck mm-me... P-pl-please?" His speech is beginning to slur, mind practically empty.

"If yer sure.." The smaller man mutters, slowly pulling back a few inches before pushing back in at the same pace, somehow managing to press against Owen's sweet spot, making him practically cry out, back arching in a way that would definitely cause some soreness afterwards.

"P-p-please~ Please, nn-need mmm-more, Archie, p-please... 'm ss-so c-cl-close..." He whimpers, clenching around him. So, so close. Too close, he doesn't want to cum yet.

"Alright, alright... Jus' 'old off for a bit, yeah?" He says softly.

"Owen!" A small blonde lady with kind grey eyes who couldn't be past her early sixties rushes towards him with a warm smile, arms open.

"Mm-mum!" Owen puts his bag down and wraps his arms around her, smiling brightly as he nearly lifts her off the ground in the hug.

"Oh, my baby is home!" His mother gives him a squeeze, much too strong for her size. Owen's sure he feels something crack.

"Let 'im breathe, Mum." A tall man who looks to be in his early forties, greying ginger hair mostly hidden under a flat cap, speaks up from where he'd been leaning in the doorway. He gently pats the smaller woman's shoulder.

She lets go of Owen, a slightly apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry, poppet, just glad to see you."

"I-I know, Mm-mum." His mother's always been a sentimental woman, as far as he knows — being crushed by her as a greeting is no surprise. He turns his attention to man in the cap. "Hh-hi, M-Mick."

"What, I don't get a hug? You've changed." Michael does an overly dramatic pout, a look of faux betrayal on his face.

Owen rolls his eyes with a grin. "Ll-l-lucky I l-love you." He hugs the man who only reaches his chin, any false annoyance dissipating. "M-missed you."

He's sound asleep until he feels Archie move to get up, looking up at the Scotsman with sleepy confusion.

"Wh-where..where're you g-goin'..?"

"Go back ta sleep, Bear... Was just gonna make breakfast.." the smaller man responds, smiling down at Owen. He looks so pretty in the dim morning light.

"Wh' t-time's it?" Owen asks, gently rubbing his own eyes.

"Seven. Why'd'ya ask?"

"T-too.. e-early.." he mumbles, wrapping his arms around Archie's waist with a soft hum and a little pout. Too cute to resist, even if Archie'd tried.

"Alright, just a little longer won't 'urt, I s'pose."

Owen

bold what applies to your muse. strike out what is something they'd prefer to avoid at all costs.

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