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The lights are off when he arrives home. It’s a bit strange, but not strange enough to frighten him. It’s not particularly late, and Owen usually keeps them on when he's home alone. His cypher abilities may help compensate for his limited sight, but he usually prefers using what sight he still has over walking around in the dark.
Opening the door, he’s greeted by silence. He squints into the darkness, willing his eyes to adjust. "Owen?" he calls softly. There’s no response, so he locks the door behind him and moves toward the stairs. “Owen?”
Oh, hey, Comes Owen's voice into his mind. He sounds distressed. Not terribly, but enough to worry him. I’m upstairs.
"You alright?" he calls.There's a pause. Just... you know, too many thoughts. Another brief pause. Glad you're here. Smiling despite his worry, he reaches to turn on the lights, but Owen quickly adds, keep them off, please."I have groceries to put away."
Don't bother. You didn't buy any meat, it can wait.
He huffs, but relents. Clearly Owen needs him more than the groceries. He drops the bags on the kitchen counter and climbs the stairs two at a time. Owen is sitting in the little bay window in just his underwear and a comfortable shirt, knees pulled up to his chest. The dim street lights outside illuminate his face, pearly eyes shining as he turns toward him. "Hey there," he whispers, kneeling with one knee on the cushioned bench. He leans forward, presses a kiss first to Owen's forehead and then dips down to meet his lips. Owen meets him halfway, but the kiss lasts only a moment before he draws back and presses their foreheads together instead. Owen's hands reach up, one gripping his shirt and the other tangling loosely into his hair. There's the familiar vague awareness of Owen swimming into his mind, curling up there like it's home.For a few minutes they just breathe. He snakes his hand under Owen's shirt and rubs up and down his spine. Eventually Owen lets out a heavy breath that seems to shake something loose in him, tension draining from his limbs.He kisses Owen's temple. “Better?”Owen nods. “Getting there.” “What do you need?”Owen huffs, a mix of exasperation and appreciation flickering through their link as a sock-clad foot presses gently but insistently between his legs. "I'd like to not think for a while," Owen murmurs with a subdued sort of heat.
He smirks and kisses those beautiful humor-quirked lips. "I can do that," he says, then pulls gently away to grab a pillow and throw from the bed and shed his pants and jacket. "Scoot forward for me?"
Owen does and he settles in behind him, tucks the pillow between him and the wall and shifts until Owen is sitting between his legs. He tucks an arm around Owen's waist, pulls him close. There's barely enough room on the window bench for the both of them, but they make it work. It's cozy to be tucked together in a small space. He catches Owen's right hand with his and wraps their arms around Owen's stomach, then uses his free hand to awkwardly try to cover them with the throw. When it becomes clear one hand won't work, Owen helps, rather than untangling their hands. "We're going to ruin this blanket," Owen mutters. He breathes a laugh into Owen's neck. "Our underwear might save it. Besides, I think comfort and coziness is the priority here, yeah?" Owen lets out an exasperated sigh, but seems to appreciate their position anyway. Once the throw is in place and Owen has settled back, he brushes his thumb along Owen's and presses his cheek to his temple. "Come on in," he whispers. Owen's sigh is one of deep relief. Then he's flooding into his mind, thoughts and sensation all blending and mixing together. It's just as disorienting and amazing as the first time, but it's long since stopped being frightening. He'd known in theory that a cypher could do something like this, but links were designed to limit the two-way connection to one-way, and most cyphers didn't use their abilities with non-cyphers without a link. But he loves it so much more than he'd thought possible. There's no room for misunderstanding between them like this. Just feeling, just love. Owen's body has gone mostly limp in his arms, as deep into his mind as he is, but he can feel Owen's thoughts tugging at him to do something, so he shifts his left hand down, brushes along the skin above the waistband of his underwear for a moment, making Owen shiver, then slips beneath. They both gasp as his fingers brush Owen's cock, only half hard but already sensitive and begging for touch. He kisses from Owen's temple down to his neck as his fingers brush along soft hot skin. Their right hands tangle together, holding tight. It'd been so strange the first time he'd been able to feel Owen's body like it was his own. It'd taken some getting used to. Feeling two sets of feelings at once and keeping it all straight was hard. Turned out the secret was not trying to keep them straight, to just let himself feel and trust that Owen knew what he was doing. It's more than he'd once dared to hope for, and he will never take this for granted, never take Owen for granted again.He nuzzles behind Owen's ear as he wraps his hand around his cock. It's a bit awkward in this position but neither one of them cares. Owen gasps in his mind, then comes back into his body enough to twist his head around to kiss him. Owen’s lips are warm, soft. He licks at the scar on his upper lip, then dips his tongue inside. He twists his hand and Owen sucks a breath around his tongue, then lets his it out on a whimper.Is this okay? he thinks, even though he’d probably be able to feel if it wasn’t. Owen’s approval swells even before the emphatic yes fills his mind. So he keeps it slow. Slow fingers and slow kisses, pauses for ragged breaths loud in the silent evening. Small gentle movements that have Owen pressing up into his hand and down, putting teasing pressure on his own hard cock. Owen swims through his mind, every sound and breathless word between them heard with both mind and body.When Owen gets close he slows down, just rests his open hand on Owen's cock as he rubs his thumb back and forth over the head, until Owen starts rolling his hips and begging for more. He laughs breathily into Owen's ear and grins as it makes him shiver. He absolutely loves this, will never get tired of slowly taking Owen apart while their minds are so closely linked, of embracing Owen's body as Owen embraces his mind, being witness to the way Owen's thoughts slow and jumble until nothing makes sense beyond yes, and, please, and fuck, I love you.He makes sure Owen can feel he loves him too, whispers the words into his ear as he strokes him closer and teases him down. Whatever force is in control out there, be it the Shapers or the universe or the Anthem itself, it gifted him with another chance to love this man and he will never be done repaying that debt. He has no idea how long he keeps it up. They tend to loose track of time when Owen links their minds like this. But eventually Owen's need becomes desperation, and he obliges. He takes him fully into his hand and pumps him in quick, long strokes, brings their still joined hands up to press over Owen's heart. Owen's hand curls tight around his fingers and he groans loud in their minds.There's two seconds where Owen gathers his senses, finding the strength for thought and control, and then he brings their minds even closer together, until there's so little distinction between them it's not clear whose body is whose. They cry out as one as Owen's orgasm rips through them both, triggering his own and sending pleasure shooting between them in echoing waves. It's several long minutes before Owen pulls their minds apart, allowing them to be individuals again. But they stay linked, Owen curling up lazily in his thoughts. Owen feels happy, satisfied, and loved, and he just leans back against the wall and closes his eyes, enjoying the feelings flowing between them. At some point they'll need to get up, get cleaned, and get into bed, but that can wait a little longer.