Owen Dennis is a twenty-two year old submissive who has a hard time finding a Master due to his muscular frame and dislike of bottoming. He settles for being a switch, but he wants more. He's oblivious, anxious, works out all the time, frequents fra...
Owen found himself staring at his phone about a week later, nervously biting into his lip as he tried to decide if he'd sound weird as fuck asking Wyatt if he could come to one of his concerts. He was embarrassed--is it clingy to go? He didn't want it to come across the wrong way, and he was afraid of being told he was weird. Jesus, he was an adult, he'd never put this much thought into something before in his life. He hadn't ever felt so uncertain of himself before. He never thought he'd have to ask something like this because Owen didn't really go to concerts, and he hadn't ever kind-of-dated someone in a band before.
Really, David did kind of have a point--anyone can go to a concert, and it shouldn't be such a big deal to him. David had been urging him and encouraging him a lot to ask Wyatt, but Owen was still nervous. So fucking nervous.
What if Wyatt thought he was a massive creep? Was it creepy?
Wyatt talked to him every moment he could, they'd talked on the phone a few times which had honestly ended up with him covered in his own jizz, and he'd fallen asleep on the phone talking to him every time. It always left him with a little extra pep in his step when he woke up in the morning after whisper-talking on the phone with Wyatt until he fell asleep. He liked the way that Wyatt made him feel. Owen sighed deeply and bit his lip. He just had to do it.
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Owen sighed and put his phone down. He would now go and shower so that he didn't have to worry obsessively about the outcome of the message. Ignoring it would be easier if he did something to keep his mind off of how nervous he was. He grabbed his pajamas and his body wash and walked out of his room, to the bathroom, knocking on the door and waiting for a minute before he pushed it open and walked in. He flipped on the light and quickly shut the door behind him and locked it. He set his clothes down on the counter, started the shower, and took his time brushing his teeth.
Once he was finished with his teeth, he stripped and got into the shower. He was so fucking nervous. Okay Owen, it's fine, it's just an innocent question, what's the worst that can happen? He mentally sighed as he started picturing the worst possible scenarios for a brief second before he shook his head, grabbed his body wash, and started washing himself. Instead of thinking about Wyatt, he'd just think about something else. Hmmm... What though? Maybe he could like, contemplate Undertale's story or something.
Whoever designed that game had to have been on drugs, there was no other explanation for the trippy final battle with Flowey. Mother-fucker straight up turned into a whole ass acid trip at the end. Sans was weirdly hilarious--as was his brother, Papyrus. It was kind of funny to Owen that both of them were named after fonts, also.
He sighed. That's really all he could think about for Undertale for the moment. Uh... Five Nights at Freddy's... Nope, he didn't really feel like thinking about a horror game. Uhhh... The Last of Us? No, too apocalyptical. The last thing he wanted to do is have an existential crisis. He had no idea what to think about. But thinking about not thinking about Wyatt was somewhat distracting in it's own way. Once he finished washing himself, he washed his hair quickly, got out of the shower, and turned it off. He grabbed his towel and moved a little slower as he started drying himself. He was stalling, avoiding going back to his room, he knew it, but he didn't want to admit it to himself.
