Havana

[Existentially Odd]

Owen certainly did focus on the long term comment because it told him something he'd never suspected; Vincent had had relations with men.  Maybe not relationships... but he'd had sex with them, by the sounds.  Sex!  Owen's body fluttered queerly at the thought of it, a ripple that went from his chest straight down to his groin and had him widening his eyes at Vincent.

It was vicarious sexual arousal he was feeling, thinking of what it might have been like to be Vincent having sex with men (for he still couldn't put himself in that position) and it was very titillating - enough that he grew bold in his questioning, leaning forward again and resting his hand son the table once more.

"You've had sex with men as well as women?" he boggled.  He'd never really thought of Vincent as a sexual being until that moment, even though they'd had some talks about sex - those usually regarded the elder advising the younger to always use a condom.  He always figured Vincent was no virgin after six hundred years, but he'd never seen him with anyone, never even seen him eye off anyone in his presence because he found them attractive, so Owen had always just seen him as... well, Vincent.

Now there was this whole other side to the vampire that had just opened up before his ignorant eyes and Owen was fascinated.  He felt very mature and strange discussing it with the man who, consider him a friend he might, he'd always seen as an authority figure.  Possibly even a father figure.  It certainly wasn't that way at this moment, when they were discussing Vincent's sex life.

[Trillian]

"Is it so hard to believe?" Vincent boggled back, but then he smiled widely and looked away at those on the dance floor, who knew no such thing as discretion - not tonight, anyway.  "Yes, and I don't really think I have any leanings one way or the other anymore," he answered honestly, then looked at Owen perusingly.  "It was only once that I experienced lust so overwhelming that I simply had to fulfill it.  Every other time it's been... intellectual, or a desire for release."

The latter was quite the primal urge, and he wondered if Owen would shy away from the topic again.  He was certainly blushing a great deal tonight, and his cheeks were rosy with colour, making him look quite charming.  Vincent was both proud and surprised that Owen was as innocent in this realm as he was.  He'd certainly not seen a great number of girls or boys hanging off his arm (if any), though he'd gleaned that Owen found this or that girl attractive, from passing comments.  Nothing had been serious, from what Vincent could tell.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen's eyelashes fluttered as Vincent spoke so nonchalantly of release and he bit his lip as he grinned and looked shyly down at his hands while he contemplated what he dared say to that.  In all likelihood, if they were in the quiet of the holiday house or even at Vincent's place back home, he wouldn't dare to be so bold but the energetic environment coupled with this heady feeling of matuirty and arousal made him want to know more and gave him the confidence to ask.

"Who were you in lust with?  Was it a man or a woman?" he asked timidly, his body language declaring through the downward tilt of his head and the upward tilt of his gaze through his lashes that he was torn by wanting to know and feeling shy about asking.  But he was doing it anyway and it made him feel more like Vincent's equal than his inferior.

[Trillian]

"A woman.  A girl, rightly, she looked to be my age at the time - fifteen.  She ended up being a hundred years older than that," Vincent said, tapping the side of his nose.  "I was quite bewitched by her."

Much like I'm bewitched by you now.  Look at you, how you tilt your head like that, and peer at me shyly and knowingly at the same time.  This 'Steve' would be a fool not to grab you as quick as he can, and gobble you up.

Vincent blinked, his own imagination surprising him enough for him to shift his position slightly.  Had he really imagined some faceless unknown boy servicing his beloved Owen?

[Existentially Odd]

Owen thought that over and then his face lit up as he made a connection he hadn't expected.  "Your sire?!" he guessed, having heard some stories, knowing Vincent had loved her.  He was also excited because if that was the case, lust had turned to love for Vincent... and he was interested in hearing about such happy endings right now.

[Trillian]

He nodded, and thought it best to tell some of the story to Owen, since he hadn't done so yet and really should.

"As I don't look fifteen years old, and was eventually married, you should glean from that it didn't work out initially.  I was young and foolish and in love when I proposed to her, and she knew better than to trust such starry eyed dreams.  I imagine she had many a young man before me, but there must've been something to our love because she came back, and wanted me with her for eternity."  He knew that Owen likely would want to know how such a thing ended.  "We had a long, long time together.  Ups and downs, sexually compatible and then not, but always filled with love for one another.  She met her death, otherwise I'd be with her, still."

He hoped Owen wouldn't ask about her too much.  To dissuade it, Vincent looked over at the dancers again, but would make eye contact with the mortal youth seated opposite him, as soon as he took in breath to speak.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen got more of a tale than he bargained for, as it didn't have the happy ending he was anticipating.  He wondered if happy endings became more scarce as the centuries rolled by.  Sensitive to Vincent's emotions, he recognised by the very simple fact that he looked away - because Vincent never shied from meeting his gaze and had a habit, in fact, of staring into his soul whenever he looked at him (or so it felt to Owen sometimes, so piercing did his looks feel) - that this topic wasn't easy for him to talk about.  As much as he didn't like to be bringing up painful subjects, he was also quite inspired by this epic love.

Bravely, Owen reached over and covered Vincent's hand with his, giving him a grateful smile.  "I hope I find that, one day.  It sounds beautiful," he said reassuringly, feeling so young and insignificant in that moment.  Here he was contemplating maybe getting his first real kiss and stumbling over the fact that it was potentially going to be witha  boy and Vincent had lived multiple lifetimes, experienced love and lust many times.  It made him feel even more young and innocent than he really was and he hoped his words didn't come off as patronising or hollow.

[Trillian]

Vincent was struck by Owen's loveliness, when his hand was touched and the sentiments offered him.  He stared at the youth, now, taking pride in what he had achieved for him, while also marvelling that Owen was so much more well-rounded, better balanced, than any of the girls had been.  Was it a male thing or was Owen truly extraordinary?  He found himself almost speechless in the face of the boy's genuine appeal, but gave him the absolute truth because Owen deserved no less.

"I wish that, for you," he said, his gaze the piercing soul-seeker that Owen seemed to be aware of.  There was a current of electricity between them; through their eyes, in their hands, and because he didn't want Owen to be the one to pull away, he made the first move.  He sandwiched Owen's reaching hand with his free one, placing it atop and squeezing lightly before releasing it and moving out from behind the table.  "I'll get the bill.  Did you want to sit at the bar and have drinks or just go home?"

The invitation was more casual than hopeful, but he would've liked Owen to experience a bit of the Havana party, to loosen up and not have his head filled with morbid stories of lost love centuries old.

[Existentially Odd]

Normally, such offers didn't excite Owen, for he'd done the I-feel-so-grownup thing of trying alcohol and getting quite tipsy in Vincent's presence (his mother knew nothing about it, of course), a couple of times alone and a few times with other kids or just Maddy for company, so there was no longer any daring appeal in it.  Tonight, however, after the intimate and very insightful conversation they'd had, there was a strange urge to celebrate.  He felt closer to Vincent, he felt more knowledgeable and he felt positive about seeing Steve tomorrow.  Yes, he felt like celebrating.

"I would like a drink?" he grinned, sitting up and looking around them with blossoming confidence, wondering how much work Vincent would have to do to get him some alcohol in this place.  They'd never really discussed the ins and outs of such things but he knew that Vincent did something with his mind and people believed he was twenty-one.  With such a crowd in this place though, his tone was questioning because he wasn't sure Vincent would be able to accomplish it.  He looked enquiringly back at his companion.

The smile that Vincent gave him as he agreed wiped away all questions in his mind and he bounded after his friend as he first set about paying the bill that Owen had racked up for him and then they made their way to the bar.  There was some toing and froing while Owen decided what he wanted - for straight spirits or those mixed with cola weren't what he was in the mood for - and he eventually settled on a creamy cocktail that tasted more like a chocolate milkshake than something alcoholic.  By the time he and Vincent had found a perch on one of the funky soft furnishings set in a prime spot by the dance floor (they'd got so lucky because the previous occupants had got up to dance just as they arrived!), Owen had finished it.

"Damn.  That went too fast!" the teenager exclaimed, convinced he was feeling no effects from alcohol at all.  Vincent encouraged him to get another if he wished and gave him some money, so Owen made his way eagerly to the bar and bought two more, because they'd been so yummy.  He also liked the look of a fruit and vodka mixer after all and bought a pre-bottled one.  He was quite amused by his balancing act in getting back to his seat and was rather triumphant as he placed them all on the table behind his stool.  As he did so, he made eye contact with a woman sitting on the row of seats behind.  She had long brunette hair, a skimpy dress that barely reached her silky, crossed legs and she smiled quite pointedly at Owen.  She looked exotic and beautiful and though he was pretty sure she was only smiling at him because she was trying to convince him to buy her a drink (he looked good for it, after all), he grinned back and even dropped her a wink before he sat and went to work on the next 'chocolate milkshake'.  His ego burgeoned with the little bit of extra attention and he couldn't help but fiddle with his lightly-curled hair as he drank and looked around.

He drank his fruity vodka drink next and found that he could really taste the alcohol in it - he nursed his last shake a little more gratefully after the fruity one was finished, enjoying the sweeter, more subtle flavour immensely.  His shoulders shifted to the beat as he sat there, smiling at anyone whose eye he caught and he wished he had the confidence to get up and dance.  He wished he had the ability, but he'd not ever picked up too many smooth moves from lame high school discos and the moves some of the people were pulling off on the dance floor... well!  They had to be seen to be believed.  Even as he thought this, his gaze fell upon one couple, sort of at the back and mostly out of the flashing lights who were moving with perfect timing to the hard, pounding beat, their faces...

As soon as he looked at their faces he knew, even though the guy was behind the girl and her short skirt hung down quite deceptively at the front.  He watched them for a while to be sure, glancing at the people around them to compare, his heartrate lifting and blood flowing into parts of his body that he'd have preferred it not if he were sober (but it didn't seem so bad right now).  Licking his lips, he leaned sideways towards Vincent, not taking his eyes off the couple at the back - other dancers moved around and in front of them obliviously, fleetingly blocking his view, but he was still pretty sure of what he was seeing.

"Are they... fucking?" he asked Vincent, nodding at the couple.  He very rarely ever swore in front of his mother or Vincent and he certainly didn't use such vulgar terms as he just had, so as soon as he said it, he finally found the ability to tear his gaze off the couple on the dance floor.  He looked at Vincent with wide eyes instead, expecting he might be reprimanded for that little tidbit.  That was when he noticed how difficult it was to focus on Vincent's face and realised he was pretty damn drunk, actually.  He snorted an indelicate laugh at the realisation and then, to recover himself a little, he took another suck of his drink through the straw.

[Trillian]

When Owen returned juggling three drinks, Vincent puffed a single breath of laughter and just smiled at the youth.  He was possibly going to experience a hangover, because those drinks he'd taken a liking to, those 'milkshakes' were quite heavily liquored, for Vincent could smell it easily, sitting beside Owen.  He supposed the creaminess must be offsetting the sharpness of the alcohol.  Owen would certainly feel its effects after three, never mind that bottle he'd had in between them.

Vincent spied the couple as soon when they did their best to discreetly begin, the way she was standing on her tiptoes and his little maneouvre of ducking down and then returning to full height, but once they were in position he moved his gaze off them in order to look at the others on the dance floor, finding them more appealing to watch.  Actual sex could be anti-climactic in a room full of dancers.  There were erotic promises and whispery touches, that innocent-but-knowing appeal (that he'd only just seen in Owen tonight, and for the first time) that Vincent was most mesmerised by.  He liked that best; the light-hearted frolicking, or flirting, it was like a dream, and sex was more often the final part of that dream, the beginning of the end, in many cases.

When Owen asked his question, Vincent returned his gaze to the couple he'd spied earlier, seeing that they were still at it.  He had to admire the stamina of the male, for Owen had consumed two of his drinks since they'd begun and they hadn't sped or slowed in their actions.

"Yes," he said, and nodded in case Owen couldn't hear him over the pounding beat.  Vincent's gaze found the girl that had been smiling at Owen before - he'd done his best to 'not notice' - and saw that she was still on her own and was very interested in Owen.  Very much so.  Vincent searched through her mind gently, to see if there was anything messy about her, but no, other than being loose, there was very little going on with her.  He leaned in to speak into Owen's ear.  "If you want to try it for yourself, I think that one will be agreeable," he said, motioning with his head to the girl who made sure to look over at Owen every now and then.  She was beginning to consider Owen might not be interested.

Handing Owen information such as that was a calculated move on Vincent's part, to learn more about the youth.  Would he go for a sure thing?  Would he be intimidated and embarrassed? (Vincent thought this more likely).  Or would the alcohol he'd consumed give him the edge of bravado he needed?  Vincent didn't know if Owen had had any experience or not (he thought not, but that would be unusual for a good looking boy Owen's age), and didn't want a drunken pass to be the first, but he doubted it would even get that far.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen followed Vincent's gaze, leaning in close to his friend because he was finding it very difficult to hear him now and bumping him with his nose when he clumsily turned to boggle at the girl who'd smiled at him.  He was giggling because of the bump, and blushing at the thought that Vincent was telling him that girl would fuck him on the dance floor if he wanted her to and then suddenly he was smiling because she was smiling at him.  He took a moment to pull back and regard Vincent (who was now looking very innocent and unassuming) and decide what to do and then, before he'd really even made a decision, the alcohol was propelling him to his feet and over to the girl.

The teenager started by telling her he was not a very good dancer but he'd like to dance with her anyway and she looked far more pleased than he thought she should've considering he was already unsteady on his feet from being drunk and had just told her that he couldn't even dance.  He giggled as she took his hand and went with him to the dance floor, where they remained connected for a while by just that hand, and then his hands were at her hips and hers were on his upper arms as they did their best to jiggle to the lively, pounding music and also embark on the age-old mating ritual of getting to know one another.

He found out her name was Sophia, that she was here on holiday with her friends for summer break and she was a second year college student.  She found out his name was Owen and that he loved the smell of her hair and she laughed prettily every time his nose chased it away from his face after she pulled back from talking in his ear.  She kissed him as he grinned at her and that had his eyes widening before they fluttered closed and he did his best at reciprocating something that was soft and exciting and tasted even better than her hair smelled.  She was blushing cutely when she pulled back and he initiated a kiss of his own, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist and pulling her hard against him.

Unfortunately, it didn't get far beyond that because the next question she asked (once their mouths were separated) was where he went to college and he couldn't help but laugh.  Never being one to lie, he told her he still went to high school and she stiffened instantly in his arms, telling him he looked at least twenty.  He told her he'd be eighteen in November and her lovely expression shifted into one of horror.  He was bereft when she apologised and told him she'd thought he was older as she pulled out of his arms and walked back to her friends.  Not understanding what had actually happened and unable to fathom the difference in her attitude when she found out that there was two years' difference in their ages, Owen stumbled back to Vincent, frowning and looking quite forlorn.  He'd never thought he'd have sex with Sophia on the dance floor or anything, but he had been enjoying the kissing and the flirting quite a lot.  Now he was just confused.

"Um... she didn't like that I was younger than her... I think?" he told his friend, literally scratching his head and then shrugging.  "I guess we should go!" he then declared, cheering up because he still got to go and hang out with Vincent and maybe he would have some insight as to what had been so good about him in the first place that she'd kissed him and so bad that she'd abandoned him when she'd found out he was younger than her.  He smiled serenely at his friend as he did a neat little loop with his two fists pressed together and ended with his thumbs pointing towards the exit, tilting his head rather endearingly in that direction as he took a wobbly step at the same time.

[Trillian]

Vincent was a little surprised that Owen went for the girl so quickly after it was pointed out to him that she was interested.  He watched, not so discreetly (because they didn't have eyes for anyone but each other) as Owen spoke with her and she gave him all the right signals.  The pair of them went onto the dance floor and Vincent quirked a brow.  Thankfully at this stage, the couple having sex had finished their ritual and moved on to clean up or separate or go home together - whatever it was they intended.

What surprised him more was that he was approached, by a woman a great deal younger than his own appearance (for they were all babes to his vast age, but he looked every one of his thirty two years and then some more, because back then when he'd been alive it was a harder life for most).  She sat upon the seat Owen had vacated, her legs brushing against his, without asking permission if she could join him or if he was with someone.  If she'd been observing him, she would've seen that he was with Owen, who'd left him to go chat up some girl.

She spoke to him in Spanish and he replied accordingly.  First, a comment about what a lovely night it was and he agreed.  Then, a comment about what a lovely boy he was with, and Vincent wasn't sure how to tackle that one, so he agreed on that too.  She was quiet for a moment before she asked him if the boy belonged to him and the question was so affronting that he searched her mind to see what on earth she meant.  He discovered that she suspected he was a vampire (she'd come across a couple before already, in her young life), and that Owen was who he fed from - as though he was a personal pet.  He replied that the boy was more than a belonging and she lapse into thoughtful silence before offering up her blood.  She certainly got to the point.  He declined, but asked her for a way to meet her again and she looked immensely pleased with this.  She opened up her clutch and plucked out a card which she handed to him.  It was just a blank piece of paper with her first name and phone number already written on it.  Teresa.  He wondered if Teresa always came prepared.  She left as wordlessly as she arrived, and he tucked the card away into his pocket.

Vincent caught the bitter end of Owen's dancefloor romance, not seeing the kissing and fondling because of his distraction via Teresa.  When Owen returned unhappy, Vincent stood up to meet him.  The explanation given him helped him realise how things had ended, and when Owen made moves to go and was unsteady, Vincent was happy enough to wind an arm about one of his shoulders and the hand supporting Owen on his side, a little below his armpit.  Together, the two of them left the club, looking much like one drunken youth being supported by a sober friend.

[Existentially Odd]

As they walked back towards their holiday home, Owen took big, deep lungsful of the coolish night air, giggling and leaning heavily on Vincent so that he didn't weave off footpaths and onto the road.  There was still some traffic around, even at this hour, though mostly they were cabs looking for fares.

"You know," Owen declared grandly as he shifted from having his arm held to leaning his forearm (somewhat awkwardly) on Vincent's shoulder, lifting his index finger on that hand to signify he was about to make a point as his head lolled sideways and he gazed blearily up at the stars, "I really don't get why women make such a big deal out of age!  What does it matter that I'm still in high school, if she thought I looked like I was in college?  Would she have been happier if I'd lied to her and said I was?  Cos', y'know, she would'na' known the diff'rence, would she?  I'd've still looked the same and wasn't that why she kissed me?  'Cos she liked the way I looked?"

His words were quite slurred but he was still making a crucial point, as far as he was concerned.  With a non-plussed shrug, he turned to frown blearily at Vincent, his head swinging sideways in a rather unsteady manner and he looked almost surprised when his friend came into focus.  "You're a very good looking man," he slurred in an unnecessarily reassuring manner.  "You have a beautiful profile."  The drunken teenager nodded sagely, suddenly so much more aware of how sexy everybody was these days and needing to say it as a way of thanking his friend for being there for him.

[Trillian]

"Yes, but it would be nice to hear such things without your beer goggles on," Vincent replied, looking sideways at Owen.  The compliment had thrilled him anyway, warming him from the inside.  He knew it really didn't mean much right now, because it seemed Owen was filled with confidence and love for everyone, but he still took it to heart.

As they got close to the house, Owen brought up the idea of going for a swim but Vincent negated it by saying it was a bad idea and ignoring the youth when he insisted.  Owen wasn't really able to successfully pull away in his state, nor even make a good attempt at it.  They managed to get to the house and up the few stairs to the front porch.  Vincent unlocked and opened the door mentally as they approached.  He usually didn't display such powers, but right now he didn't want to go fumbling for keys when he could merely walk inside.  He shut the door by hooking his foot around it and kicking back, however, and they made their way to Owen's room where Vincent spilled the teen onto his unmade bed.

There was something about the way Owen fell atop the mattress with the mussed up sheets that had Vincent regarding him thoughtfully, seeing him in a slightly different light to usual.  It would be terribly easy to take advantage of the boy now, and just as well Owen had Vincent to protect him.  It was far too terrible to corrupt such innocence.  Getting him drunk was a life experience (and one Owen had already learned and didn't indulge in often), and pointing out an easy girl was a life lesson also.  Vincent was pleased she'd backed off when discovering Owen's young age.  He gave her more credit than he'd initially given.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen kept up an incessant babble about things as they walked, seeing as Vincent didn't seem to be in the mood for talking (he didn't realise he wasn't letting his friend get a word in edgewise).  He was even somewhat miffed that Vincent didn't seem able to give him the answers to life's questions about girls but he kindly kept that to himself, for he loved Vincent and he could ask him again later when the vampire felt more like chatting.

The room spun crazily when he was dumped on his bed and he giggled as he (thought) he just about fell off his bed.  He then immediately sat up and yanked his shirt off.  "I'm not even tired, you know, I don't need to sleep yet!"  He tossed his balled shirt across the room and then lay back, doing his best to get his denim shorts undone by lifting his hips and grappling with them.  He was already onto another topic of conversation by then.

"Have you ever had sex with my mother?  I think you should.  She talks about you all the time.  I think she really likes you and, y'know, my dad's been dead a long time now so I think she gets lonely," he informed Vincent, concentrating on his groin as the button eluded his control.