Page 32 of Ship Happens

“I can’t do that, Jacob,” Owen said. “My doctors are here, my friends are here, I’m opening my shop here. My life is here.”

Jacob told Owen that he was being stubborn, that living life didn’t mean staying stagnant, that it involved taking risks, facing fears, doing what was required to make himself happy.

Owen told Jacob that he was doing what he always did, running away as things were getting tough, looking for an excuse to not come back home. Once the words were said, the floodgates opened.

And the phone call ended with Owen doing the kindest thing he could.

He let Jacob go.

Outside the bathroom, Owen hears the door to the suite open. Kevin and Abigail are cackling about some joke one of them is repeating, and it just keeps getting funnier; and Kaitlyn says something about Uno. Then Owen hears Jacob’s voice, muffled a bit.

“So much for peace and quiet,” Owens murmurs to himself. It’s probably time to get out of the tub anyway; his skin is wrinkled like a dried plum, and the combination of the heat and his vape has been making him a bit lightheaded. But before he can pull the plug free of the drain, the door to the bathroom slides wide open.

“Ugh, God . . . I’m gross . . .” Jacob grunts, stumbling into the bathroom just as he’s pulling his shirt over his head. It’s stained dark in multiple spots, not just under his armpits, but all over his chest and back too, like he was sprayed with something. His bathing suit is damp as well, feet padding softly on the tile as he makes his way in. “I need a shower.”

“Just let me dry off,” Owen says, finally making his presence known. “And it’s all yours.”

“Ah!” Jacob jolts, sliding on the tile floor, almost slipping before he catches himself on the counter. “Owen?”

“You okay?” Owen asks, reaching for the towel.

“Yeah, just . . . didn’t expect you there.”

Jacob’s eyes dart all around the room. First at Owen, then at the walls, then back to Owen again, then at the shower, then at Owen again, then at the window that Owen had left open so that the smell of his weed pen wouldn’t linger.

Then finally, Owen again.

This time, his gaze sticks.

He can’t blame Jacob. Owen’s own attention is being held rapt by the way Jacob’s skin seems to be glowing under the bathroom lights, damp hair sticking to his chest, his cheeks flushed from both embarrassment and what Owen can only assume is alcohol.

“You’re in my tub,” Jacob says the words like the situation isn’t abundantly obvious.

“There’s no tub in my bathroom,” Owen admits, shrugging sheepishly. He probably should be a bit more modest, but it’s sort of fun watching Jacob squirm.

“You’re naked.”

“That’s generally how people take baths.” Owen pulls the drain and listens to the suctioning sound as the tub begins to empty. He and Jacob have seen each other naked plenty of times before.

He knows right where Jacob is looking too, eyes drawn to his chest where two barbell piercings cut through Owen’s dark pink nipples, his chest flushed from the heat of the bath.

“If you take a picture, it might last longer,” Owen says, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out onto the bath mat, the ends of his hair still dripping and heavy around his shoulders.

“You got your nipples pierced?” Jacob asks, like that’s the only thing worth discussing right now.

“You grew a beard,” Owen tells him, wiping the steam off of the mirror and grabbing his moisturizer from the bathroom kit he’d brought in with him.

He’d needed to feel something after the breakup, get back a bit of control in his life. It’d begun with more tattoos, then he’d bleached his hair, but it still hadn’t been enough. Not by a long shot, not until he’d let Conor put clamps on his nipples and push needles through them.

“Are you going to finish up so I can shower?” Jacob asks with humor in his voice.

“By all means,” Owen replies, making sure to rub the cream in plenty next to his nose, where the skin on his face gets the driest.

“Fine,” Jacob says, pulling on the drawstring of his bathing suit and letting it fall to the floor. Owen watches Jacob closely through the foggy mirror, taking in his body. His belly’s gotten a little bigger, his thighs thicker. Jacob turns the handle, gasping as he steps into the shower.

“Coooold!” Jacob winces, flinching away from the stream. Owen wipes at the mirror, just so he can get a view of Jacob as he lathers up his body, running his hands along his chest and stomach and ass to rinse his body before he grabs the loofah and the bar of soap.

Deciding that he’s suffered enough, Owen cuts his skin routine short, collecting his things as he steps out into the room.