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Every year, Scott and Shelby are incessant on throwing—whatever the hell they decide to call it now. A reunion type party between all the people who stumbled into the dreadful town of Oakhurst 2 centuries ago. Owen thinks the event is ridiculous, the fact they throw it annually only adds to the statement. Their vampires, a year to them is equivalent to a long month.
However, Legundo always seems to enjoy the gathering. Even if some years he’s spent bitterly bickering with Scott for a majority of the party, he always comes back every year. And always drags Owen along with him like a wet cat showing defiance towards a visit to the doctors. Huh, that was oddly fitting.
The date of it always manages to creep up on Owen until it’s too late for him to come up with some twisted excuse not to go. Not like anyone would buy anything he said, he would still be brought to the event no matter what.
This year, Owen was particularly enjoying his December. As per usual, he stayed huddled up in the house. Ever since birth he’s never been fond of going outside, but this year he managed to enjoy the sight of snow falling down through the windows. That must be some sort of progress. Legs was proud of him at the very least.
His house was secluded in fields of short grass, right on the edge of a tree line that led into a large forest. Owen wasn’t able to abandon the trees, in fact he finds them a good way to take his stress out on. One bad dream turned into a fat clearing of the forest being cut down, which they still have leftover firewood from.
The house is shared between him and Legundo, Owen chooses to believe this is the arrangement simply because the doctor clung to him like a grass pricker. In reality it’s because Owen nearly spiraled and went on a bloody massacre again when the doctor had moved out after an explicitly heated argument. Silent yet intense obsession had crawled into their spines and tangled with each other, so deeply rooted that if either tried to pull apart they would be left bruised and bleeding out. They were undeniably intertwined.
For eternity.
Owen shakes his head, dismissing his inner monologue.
He much rather preferred the countryside life, they were hardly even in the state of new york. The two of them had maybe five neighbors within a 20 mile radius, Owen had no issue with this. He liked the quiet, found peace in it.
On a cold evening of December, Owen was sitting on the recliner by the fireplace. He busied himself reading some of Legs’ old journals. This was behavior that the man in question knows about. What he doesn’t know is just how many journals Owen has been able to dig up from the past. He fancied himself more with the writings from before Oakhurst, but those were the most difficult to get his hands on.
Occasionally he would look up from his reading material to stare at the flames. Fire was always mesmerizing to Owen, the way the wild streaks of light would dance around with each other. A tango no one could interrupt without getting painfully burned by their heat.
His gaze into the fire was interrupted by the front door opening and shutting with haste, then the sound of keys being placed on the counter, followed by the faint shuffle of a coat—and a familiar set of doctor's robes—being hung up on the coat rack. Boots sliding off onto the floor, and footsteps that eventually trailed into the very room Owen was in.
“Hey,” Legs greets Owen, moving to press a kiss on the vampire's cheek. As per usual. Owen hm’s, leaning into the touch, “Hi.”
“Are you reading my journals again?” The doctor asks, not so discretely checking the date of it. Thankfully it was from only a decade or so back, so he didn’t stress too much about it. Owen nods as an answer, flipping the page. “Didn’t we just buy you a load of books? There's no way you’ve already finished them.” Legs questions.
“I haven’t even started them.” Admits Owen, “I find your writing much more compelling to my taste. It’s real, not fictitious.”
At the silence, Owen finally looks up at the doctor, who is now red in the face. The former doesn’t usually give out compliments like that, Owen realized his mistake and quickly shut the book. Even contemplates tossing it into the fire, but settles for tossing it to the sofa instead. “Don’t let that get to your head. Some of them are boring.”
Owen has yet to find a boring journal written by the doctor, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Legs does eventually come back to his senses, then decides to bring up the dreaded topic.
“Cleo called me today, she said the party is next week on the twenty-first.”
The other practically deflates, sliding down the recliner and groaning into a cushion that's been resting on his chest. Legs offer an apologetic smile.
“Why must we go every year. We have eternity to go to these foolish things, yet everyone insists on going every single time.” Owen complains, “Which is stupid.”
“Well you're coming, you know the drill.” Legs’ statement leaves no room for argument, Owen knows this, he stopped seriously trying to avoid this event twenty years back. “Plus, Apo’s coming this year.”
This does not improve Owen’s mood, he only grimaces further. “She gets to skip out every few years or so, why can’t we?” He finds himself complaining again.
“Because no one really likes Apo besides Cleo and Martyn, and she lives halfway across the globe with her partner.”
Fair enough then. Owen sighs, worming around in the recliner until he eventually stands. Going into the kitchen and warming himself a cup of blood to ease his nerves. While he’s waiting for the microwave to heat up his mug, his eyes catch a glimpse of the stars now present outside. The sun completely hidden as night creeps in. Owen’s ears reflexively perk up.
“Can we go out?” The question escaped his mouth before he even processed that he wanted to go outside. Legs is mildly surprised at it, but smiles, “Sure, why not. Go get your coat and boots though. The snow is a little thicker tonight.”
“Can I bring my axe?”
“No deforestation tonight,” Legs responds. Rising from the coach and going back to get his coat from the front door while Owen heads to the bedroom to find his own.
Owen comes out shortly, dressed in a thick jacket with fur on the inside. It was a gift from Scott, and annoyingly became a fan favorite in his very small wardrobe.
When Legs sees him come out in the jacket, he nods, which is his shy way of telling the vampire that he looks good.
They exit the house and are met with the chilling cold, Owen breathes it in and watches the way his breath shows in the air. He shuffles his way through the snow, Legs follows behind him. They make their way to the fire pit in the backyard, Owen lights it without hesitation and sits down on the patio chairs.
A beat of silence passes, Legs not really knowing what to do with himself.
“Get over here doc.” Owen says pointedly, moving over to make space for Legs. The doctor smiles in reply, sitting next to the latter and letting Owen curl into him. Resting his head on Legs’ chest, almost purring at the toasty feeling that the doctor still manages to provide even after 2 centuries. He stops himself though, having already been compared to a cat enough in his life.
Ironically though, Owen finds himself taking a cat nap. Huddled up next to the doctor as he looks up at the stars. Snow falling around the two.
—
The twenty-first arrives much quicker than Owen would like.
He had actually forgotten about the whole thing, for he had managed to find one of the docs journals back from Oakhurst. There were only two of them, which made finding one all the more rewarding. Along with the fact that reading someone write about himself made his stomach go all topsy turvy.
“Owen, get up, I know you're not sleeping.” Legs’ voice came from the doorway and could be heard from under the covers. Where Owen was hiding.
“Ugh.” Owen grumbled, climbing out of bed and being met with a pair of clothes thrown at his face. The culprit of course being Legs again, damned doctor. “Get ready, we leave in forty.”
Owen complied reluctantly, pulling up his pair of washed out jeans, and shoving a jumper over his chest. Coffee brewed throughout the house, which only made him want to stay tucked away in his bed even more. Fortunately, Legs passed him a warm thermos of blood when he came out of the bedroom.
“Thanks,” Mumbled Owen, leaning up to press a kiss on the doctor's cheek. Legs blinked in response, face warming slightly, “Mhm, is the outfit alright?” Legs asked.
“Yes it’s fine,”
“Then let's head out,” says Legs, opening the front door and heading out to the car. Owen sighs, but follows behind anyway. Climbing into the car and settling into the passenger seat. He couldn’t drive.
It had been a while since Owen had been in the city, almost six months if his memory serves right. Usually Legs handled most city business, considering he works at a local hospital right on the outskirts of the city. Which meant he usually had to enter occasionally, prescriptions, meeting with specialists, et cetera.
“Here’s another reason why we should stop going to this,” says Owen, staring down the long winding road. “We always have to make this insufferable drive every time.” he complains. Owen had never been fond of lengthy car rides. What can he say, he doesn’t like being in an enclosed space for longer than ten minutes. Legs told him he was claustrophobic, which Owen still doesn’t entirely understand.
“It’s only forty-five minutes.” Argues Legs.
Owen glares at him, not backing down. “Plus city traffic.”
“It’s a journey you have to take once a year, I think you’ll survive.”
“Barely.”
The rest of the drive is quiet, Owen spends most of it staring out at the endless fields and shrubbery from the window. Trying to pretend he’s not crammed inside a car. He stops busying himself with the window once they get into the city though, not interested in the bright bill boards and hundreds of people littering the sidewalks.
The apartment shared between Scott and Shelby is a massive penthouse on the top floor of a massive tower. One of the dozen that exist within New York. Tons of floor space, rooms, and activities galore. It could be an advertisement for a top of the art hotel if they wanted it to be. How Scott still seems to have the money from the Goldsmith legacy that's practically been buried in the ground now, is beyond Owen. But he does know Shelby has just published another book, which must be bringing in something.
Legs parks in the parking garage on the ground floor, getting out of the car and opening the door for Owen. “You ready?”
“I’m not a child, let’s go before we're forced to hear Scott’s annoying lecture on being late.” Owen remarks, walking beside Legundo into the lobby building. Briefly he scans his surroundings, seeing if anything had changed since the last time he was here. Aside from a few plant replacements, everything was about the same.
He follows Legs into an open elevator, free from people. The way Owen prefers it to be.
The doors start to close, but a familiar voice shouts from a distance.
“Wait! Hold that please!”
Unfortunately Legs stops Owen from pressing the button that makes the doors close faster, which earns a hiss from the latter. Pyro floods into the elevator with Apo narrowly following behind, nearly getting squished by the closing door. Her dress getting caught in it.
Owen weakly sighs, let the socializing begin.
“Pyroscythe!” Apo yells at the man in question, pointing a finger towards his chest. “You cannot just run off like that! I swear when I get my hands—”
She stops when she notices Legs and Owen are also accompanying the elevator with them, “Oh. Hello there.” They greet awkwardly, Pyro pushes her aside, making her all the more annoyed.
“Why hello you two, long time no see isn’t it? Pardon Apo, she’s being dramatic again. You know how it is.” Pyro says, choosing to ignore the boiling glares he’s receiving from Apo.
“I would hardly consider a year, long time no see.” Owen scoffs, eyes narrowing at Pyro. Resulting in the man backing up ever so slightly.
Legs nudges him, “Hello Miss Apo, and Pyro, it’s nice to see the two of you.” Greets the doctor, always too kind for his own good. That bright light could burn Owen if it wanted to, and he would let it.
“You as well, doctor.” Apo says, seemingly calmed down a bit. Having tugged her dress out from the door. Owen’s eyes flit up to see what floor they're at, impatient, only for the elevator to stop three floors down from the correct one.
The doors open with a low hum, two individuals stand on the other side. Backs facing the four inside of the elevator.
“I think we’re on the wrong floor,” Says Drift, turning to the other. “You might’ve clicked the wrong button.” She accuses pointedly.
Before Avid gets the chance to respond, he yelps in surprise when he notices the four past acquaintances standing behind him and his roommate. While Drift is more pleasantly surprised, smiling at everyone, “Hey guys!” she chirps happily.
Drift enters the elevator, Avid nervously behind her. Still as paranoid as ever, it seems. Owen groans, leaning closer to the doctor.
“Just making sure,” Drift mumbles, looking at Legs, “This isn’t the right floor, right?” She asks, Legs nods in reply. “Yeah, you're a few floors down.”
She nods, then says hi to everyone in the elevator. Even Owen, which conflicts him just a little, but he mutters a greeting back to her anyway. Which earns him a hand squeeze from Legs, his stomach flips again. Damned doctor.
The machine stops at the correct floor this time, everyone inside piling out and turning the hallway to get to Scott and Shelby’s door in their respective pairs. Legs and Owen exit last, not wanting to get caught in the stampede. They walk behind the group as they knock on the front door, it swings open instantly.
Shelby’s bubbly voice greets them, “Hello everyone! I’m so glad you're all here,” The group stands at the door frame, expectantly. Shelby pauses, then realizes what they’re waiting for, “Ah, right. Come on in!”
She welcomes everyone individually, giving Drift a quick kiss on the cheek and commenting on Apo’s usual absence the past few years. When she gets to Owen, she laughs a little.
“Hello you two, I’m thankful Owen’s threats to never show his face here again were empty.” Legs chuckles at the comment while Owen’s face goes white in bewilderment, mouth dropping open just a little. When had he said that?
“You as well Shelby, always nice to see you.” Legs says, gently pushing Owen inside the house—who seems to be frozen in place. He blinks a few times, returning to the present and knocking the doctor's hand off of his shoulder. Grumbling just a little.
The apartment looks the same, aside from a few new decorations. He can spot just about everyone from Oakhurst. Martyn, Ren, and Sausage all gathered around the center table. Beer bottles in hand as they make an unnecessary amount of noise throughout the building. Chortling over some board game or inappropriate joke.
Avid and Drift are standing next to Shelby and Scott. Both with their respective partners. The girls hug and giggle over something shared between the two of them. While Avid writhes under Scott’s curious hands, which are around his waist and curling through his hair. Owen scoffs, he can see how red Avid is from the doorway. Those two had never been good at disguising their PDA, Scott far too teasing and Avid too easily flustered.
Pyro and Apo seem to be bickering over something again, always participating in sibling-like banter. Yet they don’t part with each other, choosing to sit down on a sofa across from Cleo and Pearl. Who are elegantly chatting with wine glasses in hand, they actually know how to tone down their displays of affection. If Legs hadn’t informed him a few years ago, he wouldn’t have guessed they were a couple.
When Owen sees Legs make eye contact with Cleo, then turns to him like an excited dog asking to go run around in the park. Owen can’t help but sigh, and then nod in approval. He doesn’t know why Legs even bothered asking, it’s not like Owen owns him and can stop him from going to see his companions. Legs always asks because he knows Owen isn’t fond of separating from him, especially without warning. Though, he’s not sure if Owen himself knows this.
“Are you sure?” Legs asks, making sure Owen is alright with this.
“Yes,” Owen nods, looking around, “I’ll go…find Abolish or someone.” He mumbles, spotting the man in question sitting by the small bar. Yes, Scott and Shelby have a bar in their house.
Owen fails to realize Legs is still standing beside him until his lips are caught in a kiss. He makes a sound of surprise, before moving into the kiss. Legs’ thick stubble scratches an itch on Owen’s chin. Right before Owen can press his mouth further into the doctor’s, enjoying himself, Legs pulls away. Smiling at him as he walks away and towards Cleo, leaving Owen flustered and annoyed.
Bastard.
“Well then.” Owen mutters, wiping his lips clean.
Abolish is checking emails from work, as he usually does. He’s always been the type of guy to prefer his job over hanging out with friends, which is probably why—like Owen—he is always dragged to this event against his will.
“Ello’ there,” Owen says, sliding into one of the bar stools. A seat apart from Abolish, who looks up at Owen from his phone.
“Hey,” He says, “Doc told me you would be here.”
Owen scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Of course he did.” Picking on the threads of his sweater, Owen looks up at Abolish again. “How’s it been? You're pretty much a lone wolf compared to everyone else.”
Shrugging, Abolish puts his phone up. “Mostly just work, I don’t mind it all that much.” He answers with, Owen laughs just a little. “What kind of job have you kept for 2 centuries?”
“It’s a family business, I guess you could say were…bodyguards?”
Fitting for Abolish, the man had always been a strong fellow. Back in Oakhurst he was by far the most threatening presence within the townsfolk, even Scott was intimidated by him at the time. He’s not too surprised that Abolish’s “family business” involves some kind of physical work.
Silence stretches between the two of them, the both of them were quiet people. Making the atmosphere between them awkward without a more extroverted person like Legs or Martyn to fill the silence.
“Want a drink?” Abolish finally asks, moving to grab two glasses and a bottle of wine.
Owen thinks about the offer, for a total of five seconds before nodding. He hasn’t had a proper drink in a good while, much rather preferring blood—which was a hell of a lot easier to get your hands on rather than alcohol that could fit his vampiric taste.
“Sure, why not.”
Abolish pops the cork and begins pouring out the contents of the bottle, filling both of the glasses just a little over half way. He closes up the bottle and moves it to the side, then hands the glass to Owen, who accepts.
“You didn’t poison it right?”
“I’m a bodyguard, not a hitman.” Abolish comments, “You literally watched me pour it too.”
“Eh, you never know these days.”
With that, Owen takes a long sip from his glass. Scott always had good drinks, even if they weren’t blood. The wine was nice, bleeding down his throat and coaxing over it. It was sweet like crimson, oddly enough.
“This is good wine,” Slips out of Abolish’s mouth, staring at his glass like it’s an artifact. Owen grins, “Scott always manages to get the good stuff, something with him being a rich boy.”
“I’d bet on it,” mumbles Abolish, not surprised at all.
The alcohol softens the edges around Owen’s brain, his guard slowly dropping as he relaxes more into the table. Conversation with Abolish flows easier as well, not having to worry about the awkward silence anymore. Why doesn’t he drink like this more?
Briefly, he can remember someone calling him a lightweight in the past—who had that been? Scott maybe…or was it Legs? It could’ve been either, wait—what did being a lightweight mean again?
“Where’s Legs?” The question escapes him before he can think about it, Abolish raises an eyebrow, then turns around to look for the doctor.
“Over talking with Cleo, why—”
When Abolish turns back, Owen’s already heading over to where Legs is. Abandoning his wine glass and him without a second thought.
“Alright then,” Abolish whispers, pulling his phone out again.
Legs is sitting on the sofa with Cleo beside him, Pearl having left to go hang out with Martyn, Ren, and Sausage. Owen watches the two laugh with each other about whatever, Legs looks happy.
With Cleo.
Ew.
Something ugly crawls up Owen’s spine and wraps around his heart. Clawing at it deeper the longer he stares at Cleo entertaining Legs, he can’t stand it. Why is that?
A small voice in his head echoes through his skull, they’re trying to take him from you.
His legs move without a second thought, he’s unable to process why he’s doing this—but his body is moving on its own. Owen finds himself crawling up besides Legundo and tugging him back from Cleo, pausing the conversation between the both of them.
“Owen?” Legs calls out, moving to a more comfortable position for himself next to Cleo only for Owen to pull him back again. Tighter this time.
“Is everything okay?” He asks, giving an apologetic glance at Cleo who doesn’t seem all that bothered—before turning to Owen fully. The vampire blinks owlishly at him, content under Legs’ attention.
“Owen? Are you okay?” The doctor asks again.
“I’m…” Owen starts, and fails to finish his thought. Slipping out of his mind before he could vocalize it. Legs’ hands are warm against his cool skin, he likes how they feel. He doesn’t realize he’s nuzzling into the toasty hands on his face until there are four people staring at him.
“Uhm…Owen? Did something happen?” Legs’ voice is shakier this time, Owen pays no mind. After all, his hands are warmer now.
“I had drinks with Abolish…” Says Owen, his tongue feels strangely loose tonight. Everyone around them lets out “Ohhs” and “Ahhs” as if they understood something. Curling further into Legs, his head now dug into Legundo's forearm. He inhales deeply, breathing in the doctor’s musky scent. It’s so addicting…
“Uhm—okay…okay, alright.” Legs scrambles with his words, and can hear Cleo laughing from behind him. He turns to them, flustered.
“Don’t laugh at me, I forgot he was a lightweight.”
They only giggle, doubling over. “I can’t help it, you look so pleasantly embarrassed. It’s funny.” Cleo says, they’re hand gripping the doctor's shoulder the harder they laugh.
They are trying to take him away from you…
In an instant, Owen growls at Cleo—claws swiping at their hand as he pulls the doctor back and away from them. Cleo pulls their hand away quickly, staring at Owen in shock. The vampire’s pupils are slits, eyes narrowed as they stare at Cleo.
Legs seems to be shouting something, but the noise blurs in Owen’s ears. Cleo tries to show they’re already healed hand to the doctor, but he doesn’t seem to calm down at the sight of it.
“I can’t believe he—Go with Pearl Cleo, please.”
“Again, I’m fine—”
“Just go with Pearl, please.”
Cleo sighs, but complies anyway.
Owen doesn’t realize his wrist is being tugged until the chill city air blows in his face and through his hair. It’s cold.
Ah, they’re on Scott’s balcony.
“Hi,” Owen says, voice floaty. He swallows, “It’s cold.” A car horn blares from ten stories down on the road, “And loud.”
“Owen, you tried to scratch Cleo.” Legs says firmly—Owen feels weird. Is Legs disappointed?
“They were…they were touching you.” He swallows again, his voice feels tangled up in knots. “It made my head hurt.”
“And you think that gives you the right to attack them?”
The world turns awfully blurry, his voice feels raw and shaky the next he talks. “Are—are you mad?”
“Owen I’m—” Legs pauses, “I’m upset.”
A crackled sob escapes Owen. His vision burns with tears, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry–I didn’t mean too—I promise I won’t—”
Warm arms wrap around his back until all Owen can breathe in is the familiar scent of the doctor. Whose hands are entangling themselves in his unruly curls and petting his head and he doesn’t deserve this—
“I just see them touching you and laughing with you and I can’t stand it—it feels like there are worms in my skin and all I want to do is hurt—” He talks at a million miles per hour, every thought he has bleeding out into his mouth and exposing himself. Gutting himself open.
Legs pulls back just a little, holding Owen’s face in his hands. “Were you…jealous?”
“I—” Owen pauses, blinking through his tears as he tries to think about the implication. “I…suppose so?”
Red hot embarrassment follows after the confession, his head dizzy from all the emotions.
The sound of laughing comes from the doctor, who doubles over trying to contain himself. Owen stares at the image, bewildered. Eventually Legs’ laughter dies down, he takes Owen’s shaky hands and kisses them individually. It’s not so cold outside anymore.
“Just ask for me next time,” Legs says, pressing another kiss to Owen’s forehead. The vampire blinks once, then again. His head meets the doctor’s chest, everything is so warm and fuzzy. His thoughts turn to cloudy mush, until he can feel his eyes flutter shut.
“You’re so drunk.”
“Mhm…”
“What am I gonna do with you?”
“Dunno…”
Legs sighs, before nudging Owen slightly. “C’mon, there's still some party for you to attend to.” He shakes Owen lightly, “Without any scratching involved.”
“Urghh…” Owen grumbles, rubbing the rest he wants from his eyelids. He looks up at Legs, who is smiling at him softly. He always smiles at him like that, is always patient with him, always kind, despite everything in existence that should tell him it’s wrong.
“I love you.” Blurts out Owen, eyes wide. Legs’ jaw drops in shock, Owen rarely ever said I love you, let alone initiate the sentiment.
Maybe that's what made it so special.
“I love you too.”
It’s barely a whisper, one that can be easily lost in the wind.
Owen still hears it.