Page 111 of Ship Happens

Once the cobbler is done, Owen finally joins Jacob and Dani in the living room. He’s never seen an episode of The Sopranos in his life, but Dani’s in the middle of her rewatch, and really wants to show them a specific episode. She even entertains all of the questions that he and Jacob have to ask.

Before too long though, Dani turns in, double-checking the time of Owen and Jacob’s flight to Seattle before she says good night. Left to their own devices, Jacob finds a YouTube video to watch, and Owen lays his head in Jacob’s lap, closing his eyes as Jacob starts to play with his hair.

He could fall asleep here, under the comfort and security of the man that he loves, the man that he’s been all too happy to pledge himself to.

With a slow hand, Owen reaches up, cupping Jacob’s cheek.

“What?” he asks, looking down at Owen and smiling.

“Nothing, just . . . wanted to touch you while I can.”

“We’ve still got a few days before I head back,” Jacob tells him.

“I know.” But it’s not enough. It never will be, not until he’s back. “I just like you.”

Jacob smiles from ear to ear. “I like you too.”

They both lie there for as long as they can before exhaustion begins to set in, Owen standing first and offering his hand to Jacob, who follows him into the bedroom. Tucked under the covers, Owen rests his head on Jacob’s chest while Jacob’s hand wraps around his shoulders, scratching Owen’s back, nearly lulling him to sleep.

Then Jacob’s hand starts to dip, further and further.

When Owen looks up, he sees Jacob with his head on the pillow, eyes closed.

“Jacob?”

“Hmm . . . ?” Jacob hums, eyes still shut.

“Hand’s going a little low there, huh?” Owen teases.

“Shit! Sorry, I . . .” Jacob says, yanking his hand away.

“It’s okay,” Owen promises, leaning in closer. “I don’t mind.”

“Should I bother asking if this is the smart thing to do?”

Owen shakes his head silently, closing the distance between them to kiss Jacob. Because he knows what he wants. And he wants this.

So does Jacob, if his reaction is any indication. His hands gently glide further down Owen’s waist, the touch so light that it sends a shiver down Owen’s spine.

“Sorry,” Jacob says through their kissing.

“Don’t be,” Owen murmurs, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to Jacob’s lips. He tastes like he always does. Through the toothpaste and the hints of dinner. He tastes like honey, like warmth and understanding.

Like home.

“Jacob?” Owen whispers.

“Owen.”

Jacob’s hands dip below the sheets, slowly slipping past the waistband of his pajama pants, and Owen’s all too happy to let him, nuzzling himself further against Jacob’s hairy chest. The feeling is electric; there’s something about it. He just loves Jacob’s body so much. Through all of Jacob’s anxieties about his stretch marks, his weight, his thighs, his surgery scars, Owen’s only ever found the man absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous.

And he loves to make sure Jacob knows it.

Owen presses his hands against Jacob’s pecs, massaging them as his thumbs flick against Jacob’s nipples.

Jacob lets out a soft whimper, breaking their kiss. Owen feels himself being pushed up as Jacob’s strong hands come to finally cup his ass. Taking the chance for himself, Owen latches on to Jacob’s neck, running his tongue along his soft skin before he kisses, biting down gently.

“Oohh . . .” Jacob whines, reaching up to cover his mouth.