A Reluctant Existence

[Existentially Odd]

Owen simply stared at Vincent, digesting his thoughtfulness, his understanding, his total lack of excessive emotion.  Everything that Owen wasn't.  He felt blindsided and trapped by Vincent's reasonableness, unable to see past the red haze that Ben's offensive action had slashed across his mind's eye.  Picturing them, picturing it happening and Vincent just calmly talking to Ben about the silly mistake he'd made afterwards only enraged him.  He didn't understand that, he didn't understand it about himself, why he couldn't just accept that Vincent knew what he was doing and trust him that everything would be alright.

And suddenly he knew.  His issue was still trust.  In a slightly different outfit to the one it usually wore (when he imagined Vincent with his pliant donors) but the same underlying cause.  He was making an ass of himself, but he couldn't think straight enough to figure out how to fix it.  Not right now.  Vincent's beautiful eyes were boring into him, imperiously showing him what a lost cause he was and waiting silently for him to declare it and submit.  To agree that Ben was an acceptable addition to their relationship.  Except he couldn't, didn't want to, was too angry, too devastated, too lost, too... everything.

He stood up abruptly, frowning down at Vincent.  "I need to think this through," he said, shaking his head vaguely and reaching into the pocket of his coat for his car keys.  "I'll call you," he mumbled, his lips a grim line as he turned to step around his chair then stopped because he was so disoriented by everything swirling around in his head that he needed a moment to figure out where the door was before he headed for it.

[Trillian]

As soon as Ben saw Owen getting up and leaving the coffee shop, with Vincent staring after him and then lowering his head, Ben's gut lurched.  He felt sick, like he was going to throw up, but it was different to that, because he was a vampire and there was nothing to throw up.  He pulled out his phone, uncaring that it got wet, and speed-dialled Vincent's number.  He was watching Owen, not Vincent, as the phone rang in his ear.  Because he knew it would take time for Vincent to react to the phone call, he started to cross the road.

Horns blared at him, cars screeched and he realised upon his return to the curb that he couldn't just focus on Owen and nothing else.  He was aware that he might've attracted attention with this move, and he glanced across the road to see where Owen was now.  Surely he'd come through the door already?  Yes, there he was, and he was looking over as well - alerted by the horn and tyres.  Did he know it was Ben trying to get to him?

"Ben?"

Vincent was speaking in his ear now, having identified him via caller ID, but by this stage Ben was already on his second attempt crossing the road.  Still doing it a bit dangerously, but this time he was looking at the traffic as well as his destination.

Owen.

He had a notion about how well he'd be received.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen left the coffee shop in a daze, trying to tell himself that he was an idiot to be this upset, that he should be looking to Vincent as his example for how together he should be, but the more he told himself that, the angrier he felt.  It was all so fucking reasonable and he wasn't; even though he was doing all this stuff to get his life together, he could still come completely undone at the thought that Vincent could have someone kiss him and justify it.  He hadn't even got to fucking kiss Vincent in nights and nights, how the fuck was it okay for some asshole to do it before him??

He knew he was being childish because he felt so ineffectual, and he knew he needed to get away as quickly as possible before he got himself so worked up he did something stupid like scream or cry; his emotions were getting more frayed by the second.  He was both grateful and disappointed that Vincent let him walk out.

The traffic in front of the coffee shop was going a little haywire as well because someone was running across the road, so Owen paused at the door, where there was some cover from the rain, for that to sort itself out.  He'd got his keys out of his pocket, spied his car up the block a little (about four cars ahead of where he stood) where he'd parked it and dashed forward to the next shop's awning, managing to stay dry because he could move so quickly.  He came to a dead stop when he reached that spot though, because he realised that the person crossing the road was fucking Ben.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he blurted angrily, his hands balling into fists (his right crushing his keys).  It occurred to him, after he said it, that it was probably a complete coincidence that Ben was here; he had his phone to his ear, after all, jay-walking around and no doubt talking so he'd been too distracted to pay attention to the traffic... except he was saturated.  He didn't look like he was just casually wandering around, he looked like he'd been in the rain for a very long time, attempting to drown himself.

[Trillian]

On his way through the traffic, stopping between lanes and running between the gaps of moving cars, Ben had time to ask a single question.  The answer wasn't succinct, but by the time he was approaching Owen and challenged by him, Vincent had finished speaking and now it was Ben's turn to say something.  Instead of replying, Ben hung up the phone, hoping that the sound of torrential rain had muted Owen's words from the phone.  Supernatural hearing was one thing, but the quality of electronic speakers was another.

It was over, and it was his fault.  Yet again he'd fucked up, but this time he had someone available to him to plead his case to.  He was angry and upset and he knew the rain would cover some of that up, but not all.  Pocketing his phone, he stood face to face with the taller vampire and started in a way that was probably not in his best interests.

"He said you'd understand!" he yelled, because the rain was deafening, though he knew neither of them needed his volume.  "Did you really think I could steal him from you?  He's yours! He'll always be yours!  I just want Kerr back!"

It made no sense, his plea.  Owen just had to throw the kiss back into his face.  Unlike other mistakes he'd made, this time he agreed with Vincent, that he deserved a second chance.  Vincent had been willing to give it to him.  So why not Owen?

[Existentially Odd]

"That's ridiculous!  How is kissing my husband going to bring yours back?" Owen yelled back, fighting off the urge to shove at Ben.  His hands stayed fisted and by his side for the time being, though he was given to wonder, in the back recesses of his brain, what a fight between two vampires might be like.  He'd never been one for starting fistfights but he'd ended one that had come his way once, years ago.  He was confident that, even though Ben was older, there wouldn't be a significant difference between them and he'd be able to hold his own.

"He was wrong when he said I'd understand because what you're saying makes no sense and I don't!" he now yelled, as Ben's first words came back to him.  The other vampire was his entire focus at that moment, Owen had no peripheral awareness of anything else - beyond the knowledge that no-one was staying near them as they screamed at one another over the rain.  "I think you're gutless, starting shit that you don't finish!  You sent him to do your dirty work instead of facing me like a man and explaining yourself and apologising !"

[Trillian]

Ben didn't understand what it was Owen was accusing him of not finishing.  The demand for an apology was something that he could surrender to, because he knew he'd made a poor choice, and he was sorry.  He was so very fucking sorry.

"I'm sorry!" he shouted into Owen's face, aware that the other had his fists balled at the ready and expecting them to come at him at any point.  For all his emotional hostility, Ben wasn't a fighter.  He would take whatever punch Owen threw at him, and he figured the other vampire might feel better for it.  If he could hit him, maybe he'd get it out of his system, maybe feel guilty for doing it, maybe relent in his anger and allow Ben to be trained by Vincent again.  "Please tell him," he begged, the yelling dropped as his tone changed from hysterics to pleas.  "Tell him you know it was a mistake.  Please."

He didn't have much hope, but he asked anyway.

[Existentially Odd]

"How about you fucking tell me you know it was a mistake first!" Owen brayed, offended that all this was still about Vincent when it was him that was the innocent party, here.  Vincent already knew Ben had made a stupid mistake and was willing to forgive, making Owen feel like the asshole because he begrudged Ben access to the man he'd kissed.

"How about you fucking tell me how it'll never happen again, how you're going to do better!  How about you tell me why the fuck I should ever trust you near him again!"  Owen's face was a sneer of demand as he looked down his nose at the sopping vampire in front of him, disliking the man for putting him in this position, angry at him and Vincent both for forcing him to be the bad guy.

[Trillian]

"There's no longer any point," Ben replied, as he realised now how peculiarly Vincent had worded his response to the question posed him.

"What did he say?" Ben had asked while crossing the street in the rain, chasing down the vampire who he'd thought was between anger and forgiveness.

"He's uncomfortable, Ben.  I'm sorry, but you can't come over anymore."

Ben had understood this to mean that Owen had declared his discomfort, but now he realised that Vincent had come to this conclusion on his own based on the fact Owen had reacted adversely.

"It's done," he said, and reeled away from Owen, no longer wanting to look at him.  Not even Vincent's kind face would be a welcome sight.  He'd ruined it with a stupid, single impulsive decision.  There was something wrong with him.  This was proof enough.

[Existentially Odd]

Ben's dramatics were more than Owen could stomach so when he spun away, Owen stepped hurriedly after him and slammed him in the back with an open-palmed shove, right between his shoulder blades.  He didn't really care if Ben fell on his face but he was counting on the blonde's vampiric reflexes to keep him upright.

"There is a fucking point!" he yelled through gritted teeth.  "It's called respect!  Stop being such a coward and face me!  You talked to him, convinced him but you don't even have the decency to give me your side of the story!"  Owen realised that he might need to pin Ben down to hear what he wanted to hear from him so he began swiftly calculating ways to get him to his car - even if he had to swoop in and frogmarch Ben the short distance to his vehicle.

[Trillian]

Ben, who'd been ready to cross the street and put Owen and Vincent out of his life forever, wasn't expecting to be shoved.  His vampiric reflexes didn't save him because he wasn't in the right frame of mind.  As a result, he went down on his knees, but his hands saved him from going any further.  Two flares of pain travelled up his legs from the shock of his landing, and he grunted his surprise.  Without looking over his shoulder to see where his aggressor was, he began the process of getting back up to his feet, intending on facing Owen but unsure what he would say.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen was there, facing him, when Ben got to his feet - in fact, he reached down to cup Ben's elbow and help him up, his emotions vastly different from what they had been.  Seeing Ben stumble and fall had been the shock he'd needed to wash away his rage, like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head and instantly dispelled it.

He could finally see the resigned misery Vincent had been trying to tell him about, he could see that Ben was broken somehow.  He hadn't forgiven him his transgression but he was sorry he'd kicked Ben while he was down.  He wasn't a bully, not normally; anything involving Vincent seemed to send him to towering heights and deep depressions of emotion, however, because he couldn't control himself where his husband was concerned.  Not even when Vincent was the one telling him to, it seemed.

"I'm sorry," he said loudly, frowning at Ben.  "I don't mean to... I'm just angry, I told Vincent I needed time to think this through, he made me feel trapped when he told me what happened and then insinuated what an asshole I'd be if I didn't forgive you instantly but I just... I do want to listen, alright?  We owe each other that much.  Can we go somewhere, though? My place?  My car's just here," he gestured towards the red Mustang parked a few metres away.

He had no idea how Ben had materialised at just the right time - nor had he put any great depth of thought into it - but he assumed, from the way he was so wet, that Ben didn't have a car nearby.  If he didn't want to go anywhere though, they wouldn't, it was just that Owen was afraid Vincent would leave the coffee shop any second and find the two of them having a go at each other on the footpath in the pouring rain and Owen would get even more disapproval from his husband.

[Trillian]

While all of this was going on, Vincent was still sitting in the coffee shop, trying not to listen in on the thrumming outpouring of emotion that was twanging along his bloodline from Owen.  It was like peeping uninvited, he felt, especially when Owen was still upset.  He'd hoped that Owen would get into his car and drive away, but after some time passed, it occurred to him that Owen might already be in his car, sitting there and trying to calm down before driving away.  That was a sensible idea, and Vincent was proud of him.  There was no other reason why his young husband would be lingering.  He looked down at the ring on his finger and twirled it, having faith that this separation wouldn't last, and that hurdles like Ben wouldn't come up too often.  Belatedly, he'd realised he should've relented as soon as Owen had reacted adversely.  He'd promised himself not to push it, yet he had, so when Ben called, it made sense simply to end things as cleanly as possible.  He was sad for him, but if Ben had gone through all that he had and survived, then he would survive this too.  Vincent's path to Owen should be clear.

Ben was using the rain to wash the pain out of his hands, though his knees felt hot and itchy.  He figured the itch would be from his knees healing.  They'd felt as though they'd scraped through his jeans, but the pain was slight and grounding.  It made him feel real, because everything else about this scenario wasn't.

He'd been right in his assumption that Owen hitting him would lead to guilt and an apology in return.  Guilt was a powerful emotion, Ben knew this first hand.  Why not wield it in his favour instead of letting it beat him down time and again?  He nodded at Owen's words, though wary.  If Owen was to be believed, he hadn't given Vincent an ultimatum, he'd asked for time to think it over.  So why had Vincent ended it?  Was his guess correct after all: that Vincent had chosen to deny Ben further training because Owen had been initially angry?  He hoped not, that would just be a ridiculous expectation!  Of course Owen would be angry upon finding out!

"Alright," Ben said, not caring about his own car even though it was in a tow-away zone should it remain parked there longer than a couple of hours.  If it was towed he'd pay the fine and get it out.  It was liberating to not miss opportunities because of financial concerns working in the background.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen didn't waste any time getting them to the car; with a terse nod of acknowledgement he raced ahead to unlock the doors, opening the passenger side for Ben before he braved the rain and got in the driver's side.  Thankfully, he didn't have to wait for any cars to go by but he was still damn wet by the time he flopped into his seat and started the car.  His interior smelled of leather maintenance products, the cologne he'd worn (when he thought smelling good for his lover might give him an advantage) and wet hair as the heater blasted warm air at them from its vents.

"This rain is fucking ridiculous," he muttered as he ran a hand through his dripping blonde curls to get them out of his eyes, got his belt on and checked that Ben was settled.  When he was was satisfied, he watched his mirrors and pulled the well-maintained classic car out onto the road when there was a chance, sticking with the traffic's generally reduced speeds in the interests of safety.

He waited for Ben's response to his monotonal comment on the weather, unsure he wanted to get into any sort of meaningful conversation while they drove, especially in weather such as they were experiencing (where even he, with his reflexes, could make a mistake and end up wrecking his beloved car).  Conversation about the rain or none at all he could handle while he was so heavily occupied with the road.  Minimal thinking also kept his emotions on hold.

[Trillian]

Ben didn't worry too much about the rain, he was already soaked.  Owen didn't seem to have a towel handy either.  Leather seats weren't so bad, he supposed, but he still felt a bit weird getting into Owen's car.  It smelled like him, and even though it was nice enough, it wasn't the kind of car to excite Ben on a more personal level.  He looked over at Owen's statement, knowing it was just a silence filler, and he reached up and ran his hands through his hair, trying to dry it out using the heat that was blowing at him through the small vents.  He wasn't very successful.

"Yeh," he said, figuring Owen would want acknowledgement of some kind.  Otherwise, Ben didn't talk, unless Owen did.  The drive was spent in relative silence, and Ben said very little until they came to a point when it was time for him to explain himself.  Unlike his usual behaviour, he didn't run the potential conversation in his head.  He was too unhappy to worry at it, too exhausted to wonder about things that might not even happen.

Continued in A Reluctant Confession