Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2019 3:54 am Post subject: Dowen/Omien/Owien
Damien Laughlin lived a busier life as a young man versus a young werewolf. His Dad was a once wanted criminal in their community, his Mom though a bit dull was one of the oldest werewolves Damien knew of; Louis IV (d'Outremer) was king when his Mom was still human. But Damien didn’t have much to do with any supernatural infamy, not like his cousins born from his Aunt Riley. He was a theater major in college; a tishie. He also participated in local theater, but he also thought he might want to cut hair despite his sisters ruthlessly teasing that he would be validating his stereotype.
The stereotype of course that gay men love theater and show tunes and doing hair and...She was right. Any of Damien’s not serious boyfriends also gave him guff for it, but that’s why they weren’t serious and why Remedy was his least favorite sister.
While he figured out what he wanted to do career wise, he busied himself at JoAnn Fabrics, in the fabric department. He was popular there with the men and women, being that he was so nice to look at. He inherited his mother’s good looks, platinum blond hair; fine and naturally wavy like his Moms but he flat ironed it often. His eyes a bright hazel, swirls or warm autumn colors, flecks of green in the center. He had the Chevalier high arched brow and pinched nose. Even some of Roxanne’s beauty marks got passed to him. Maybe being so pretty was what got him invited to this party?
It was all supernaturals, he ever knew most of them. But he didn’t particularly like anyone, including Godric and Mihai who were drunk. And fighting earlier, then making love in the bathroom a little later, then fighting again, but now peacefully smoking on the fire escape of whomevers apartment this was.
Combatting bad boyfriends and stereotypes, rubbing elbows with the kids of someone his dad knows, finding a good job, judging sloppy drunks and measuring felt for young intercity cosplayers...All things that blurred together, when he was staring into his plastic red cup. What he wanted, was to fall asleep next to the same person every night. Celebrate New Years with them, kiss them during fireworks when the ball drops. Help tie their ties and make huge breakfasts for them on weekends like his Mom does for Dad.
He hoped that person might appear obviously clear in the presence of everything blurred.
Owen Castillo-Mehtevas, though he hated to admit it, was a born and bred "farm boy". His parents, or rather, his father, chose to build his mother an extravagant home out in some backwater town and it was there that he and all of his siblings had been "exiled" (as he dramatically called it) for all of their youth. Of course, there were day trips to New York City and he'd even gone on a handful of trips with his mother for her work when he was little, but outside of those experiences few and in between, he spent his days in the little town of Aurora with the rest of his family.
And he couldn't stand it.
He loved his family dearly and, though he wouldn't ever tell them, he idolized them all in different ways, but he felt like he was so much more than for being cooped up in a place like Aurora. It was, perhaps, because of that, he was so driven to find a way out of the small town and to start a life big enough for him in New York City.
He'd been one for flair ever since he was a child, enjoying playing with his mother in all of her jewelry and fantastic clothes, putting on shows for his family or the occasional stuffed animal theater when everyone was too busy for "baby Owen", he had especially loved making his father dance with him to whatever bop played on the kitchen radio's only working station. He loved being at the center of attention, so when Uncle Mityr once invited the whole Castillo-Mehtevas brood to one of his daughter's dance recitals early on, he knew that was what he wanted to do.
Navrik and Havania always encouraged their kids to find their joy, so it took hardly any convincing at all to enroll him in dance classes at a small studio in Aurora. He was the only boy in a crowd of seven or so little girls all ranging in age and he often caught guff for it, but having Havania's confidence, he hardly let it get to him, especially as he excelled and surpassed them all. When he got older, Navrik took him to the city every so often to go watch Ania at her practice. He eventually was invited to participate and impressed the right people, which was how he got here.
He'd recently found himself auditioning for Juilliard's dance program and had even more recently found himself accepted into it. Havania was over the moon that he'd gotten in and enthusiastically friends in the "community" to help get him along, which is how he found himself sharing an apartment with Joshua Junior (a fellow supernatural) just a few subway stops and a quick jaunt away from the campus and how he found a gig serving at a little cafe that was a supernatural hotspot due to it's proximity to The Society.
Though he was impressed with his mother's networking, he was more impressed and partial to his new roommate and his older brother's brand of networking, as it was through the both of them that he had ended up at a supernatural kickback.
He'd come with both Joshua and Godric, but at some point, after serving him a few congratulatory beers, they'd left him to his own devices so they could pursue their own "devices". He was fine enough, though. He was always confident in any given situation and having a few drinks to relax him even more, he was peachy keen. He was currently crouched down to admire the apartment owner's (whoever that was) collection of eclectic CDs and vinyls on an entertainment center. He ran his fingers over the various cases, some Prince, some Frank Sinatra, even some Def Leppard, but eventually he found a CD case that surprised him enough, as well as appeal to him, that he took it off the shelf. There was a CD player situated on the entertainment center nearby and he crab crawled over to it, careful (enough) not to spill his drink or drop the CD. It took a bit of finagling, but eventually he got the previous CD out and put the new one in. Everyone took a beat as the music changed from whatever mix had been playing to the very Latin and very different sound of Celia Cruz, everyone except Owen who had immediately begun to sway, even crouched, before moving to stand vertical so he could jive more freely. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Damien was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the music stop but he did notice the change. He arched a brow and looked up from his cup.
“The Queen of Salsa, nice.” He muttered to himself. Arte’s little friend Lucinda was always playing some Asian-anime nonsense, but when she wasn’t playing that, she switched gears to Latin music. “I like Tito Puente better though.” He decided before taking a sip of his beer, watching the person who changed the music rise to their feet.
Damien danced well enough, not that it mattered. It was much more interesting to watch drunk people try to dance.
Owen set his cup down on the entertainment center and proceeded to turn himself around. Despite being more than just a little tipsy, he managed to do some fancy footwork followed by a fantastic hip pop. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“Oh.” Damien made a face, brows arched, pleasantly surprised. “Color me impressed.”
He continued to sip his beer, watching them dance. He was good, but more importantly, he was cute. Damien leaned against a doorframe, debating on joining in. Not particularly because he liked dancing, but more because he liked cute boys. But confronting another male in this context could be tricky if you didn’t know they were gay. Damien had been lucky enough to be the one confronted by other men.
Owen allowed himself to be swept up in the music for awhile, dancing with a pleasant grin on his face that spoke to his enjoyment of it, but eventually he was drawn back to reality long enough to look up from under his dark lashes, his gaze immediately and quite luckily landing on one tall drink of blond water. Maybe it was because of the alcohol and the dancing, but his cheeks almost immediately became colored pink and a small smile tangoed it's way onto his lips as he eyed the other man. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Damien met his gaze and that was it. Rosy cheeks for rosy cheeks, though something about being noticed by him was intimidating, Damien couldn’t help but smile back. He raised his glass (or cup rather) at him, a friendly enough gesture to invite whatever would happen next.
Owen gave a little smile at the gesture, but instead of approaching himself, he gave a little jerk of his head as if to say "you come to me". _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Owen tried not to look taken aback as the man joined him. He was a lot taller than he had appeared from across the room, and, likewise, Owen was sure he was dwarfed even more up close. But he was also much more handsome, though, who was to know, it could have very well been the alcohol.
"Oh wow." Owen let out a breathy little chuckle as he continued to dance. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Owen pulled away, only to grab his drink abandoned on the entertainment center. He finished it in one quick guzzle before he turning back to the man and taking his hand again. Almost as if on perfect cue, a new song started with some heat and speed and Owen began moving with a sultry sway of his hips and swift movement in his feet. He moved close to the other man to coax him u to the dance as well. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Damien’s smile continued to broaden at the closeness, happy to dance with the smaller male. He took opportunities during the dance to hold his hips or caress his arms.
“Ow!Ow!” A fellow party goer called, encouraging the twosome. It was Godric, a joint in hand with a sloppy drunk Mihai hanging onto him.
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