Beginning Anew

He couldn't believe it. He set down the phone and looked over at the stove where Chase was delicately lifting the edges of fluffy yellow egg. His hair was its usual bird's nest this early in the morning, and the aroma of eggs and onions and tomatoes filled the air making Owen's mouth water. He had no idea how Chase could wake up and, with eyes barely open and a scowl on his face, cook something so delicious. Owen flopped into a dining table chair and rubbed his face with his hands wearily. Chase set two plates at the table and then glared at Owen.

"Oh, right. Coffee. I got it," Owen remembered, jumping to his feet and going for the percolator.

He poured in just a little bit of milk for Chase, and too much milk and sugar for himself, before bringing the mugs back and setting Chase's down in front of him. He dug into his own onion and tomato omelet while Chase greedily gulped at his coffee. The mug set on the table with a clink and Chase sighed in relief.

"So… why in the world was your uncle calling my house so damnably early?" Chase demanded, his violet eyes suddenly bright and awake, and his early-morning-scowl replaced with a confused-concerned-scowl.

Owen was getting pretty good at interpreting the scowls these days.

"'pparently Luke got trashed last night," Owen said around a mouthful of omelet. Chase's eyebrows rose and his fingers tapped on his mug. Without Chase even asking, Own got to his feet and grabbed the surely empty mug to refill. Behind him, Chase blinked and his scowl softened momentarily.

"You didn't explain why your uncle called here, Gravel," Chase pointed out when Owen came back to the table. He took the mug from Owen's hands this time and actually smiled in thanks. Fleetingly, but it had Owen grinning sleepily back.

"Kat called up tryin' to find me, so's I can help drag him through the rain home. Ramsey promised t'call me up. Figgered it'd be easier to catch me 'fore I got all the way home and had to turn back 'round," Owen clarified before shoveling in another mouthful.

Chase nodded thoughtfully and sipped at his brew. "Do you need… help?" he asked a moment later, a look of distaste on his face as his eyes glanced towards the storm outside.

Owen barely managed to press the back of his hand over his mouth before he sprayed food over the table in a bray of donkey-like laughter.

"Nah, man. I got it. You don't havta get any wetter than you gotta when you go t'work tonight," Owen assured him. He grabbed a napkin to wipe at his mouth, trying to hold back more chuckles at Chase's eyeroll.

"Chase. Not man, not dude, not bro. What have I told you?" Chase muttered, daintily cutting his omelet with the side of his fork and taking polite-sized bites.

Everything Chase did was so clean and efficient and… there was some fancy word for it, not really dainty, but that was the best that Owen could describe it. He was mesmerized by Chase's way of living, so different from him and most everyone Owen knew. He usually caught himself watching for too long, like now. He quickly snagged his mug and gulped down his more-sugar-than-coffee concoction.

"You still haven't beat me, so I guess I can call ya whatever I want," Owen said with a smirk.

Chase scowled in annoyance. "We will find a game I will kick your ass in. One of these nights."

Owen laughed and settled back in his chair. "Sure, sure, city boy. You wasted all those years cookin', you'll never catch up."

"Rude. Wasting? Who's the one eating me out of house and home the past weeks?" Chase retorted.

A ruddy flush crawled up Owen's neck and ears. "I… I guess I been comin' over too much, huh? I didn't even think about bringin' groceries or something for myself."

Violet eyes sharpened before dropping to the mug turning slowly in Chase's hands.

"I don't mind. You're never unwelcome here, Owen. It's–" Chase looked away and that rare scowl, the one Owen could tease out of him only when he wasn't expecting it, creased Chase's forehead. "It's nice to have someone here… to cook for and spend time with."

"So you were lonely. Mr. Uppity was really just Mr. Shy," Owen teased, clearing his throat lightly.

Chase snorted loudly. "Definitely not!"

"Sure sure, keep telling yerself that. If you're appreciatin' my company so much, you musta been lonely," Owen said, shaking his head in amusement and taking the last gulp of his coffee.

He froze when a hand touched his. He slowly lowered his mug to meet Chase's serious, intense gaze.

"Don't talk about yourself like that. The truth is I don't give a damn about anyone in this town except for you and Yolanda."

Silence hung between them. It was one of those moments. Like when Owen chose apple juice instead of hard cider, or when the video games were over and the silence of the night fell with offers not spoken. Or when his hands shook too much and his mouth was too dry with a thirst he couldn't quench with water or juice. It made Owen feel even dumber than usual, his tongue heavy and his throat tight and all thoughts dribbling out of his ears. There was an intensity in those violet eyes that could find him across a crowded room and hold Owen up when he wanted to fall.

"Yeah?" he heard himself croak.

Chase's eyelashes fluttered and he looked away, his hand pulling away gradually. As if he were trying not to spook Owen like a nervous horse.

"Don't get too big a head. Yolanda is still my first choice."

His braying laugh broke through the tension, shattering it like glass. He got to his feet and picked up the plates, which Chase had just finished with. He grabbed his own mug and walked over to the sink leaving Chase at the table to savor his second cup.

"You're a guest. You really don't have to wash the dishes. Or take out my trash. Or wipe down my counters or tables," Chase noted sardonically, but not very firmly. Since it was something he'd said multiple times already.

Owen just shrugged and grin. "Least I could do, man. Since you're always cooking for me and lettin' me stay on your couch."

"You're going to ruin your back eventually, but I don't mind not cleaning. You're rather tidy for a big oaf covered in mine dust 95% of the time."

Owen chuckled and turned on the spout. "I gotta get going if I wanna drag Luke through all this back home."

"Will you be coming by the Bar tonight?"

"… only if you make the good pilaf."

" All my pilaf is good, you peasant-tongued rockhead."

"Shellfish is disgusting. And fish. Anything from the water."

"Ugh," Chase groaned, rolling his eyes again. Owen smiled to himself and enjoyed Chase's stream of insults with little heat behind them. They finally ended and Owen looked over at Chase who had walked to his side silently. The cook leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What?" Owen asked, his eyebrows flying upwards.

"Do you want me to come with you? It'll be annoying," Chase rolled his eyes with a smirk, but the teasing look faded as he met Owen's gaze again, "but I could handle it."

Carefully, Owen set down the last dripping dish into the drying rack. "I don't need you t'hold my hand. Didn' think you had it in you t'be the motherin' kind," he grumbled, eyes on his hands and shoulders tense.

That elephant in the room, the one that didn't have words said straight out, merely danced around, was back. The closest Chase had ever gotten was that first night, when was Owen half-passed out on the couch and only a little buzzed. He had tossed a blanket over him and then had cleared his throat awkwardly. And proceeded to offer to take him into the city to some group meeting. Owen had turned over and pretended to snore really loudly.

But long after Chase had gone into his room, Owen had stared at the back of the couch with eyes that burned and his head swimming like blended mush.

"Owen–"

"You're doin' enough for me, Chase. Lettin' me stay so often, 'cuz I'm still too chickenshit t'talk to my uncle. Hangin' 'round me at parties, in case I do somethin' stupid–"

"That is not why I spend time with you at parties," Chase interrupted sharply. Owen glanced at him, curiosity stamped on his face. Chase glared at the area around Owen's chin as a flush pinked his cheeks. "You're bearable company. That's all."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not going to sit here and stoke your ego. Go play fetch with your dumbass friend. I have to take a shower," Chase said dismissively, his hand flapping at Owen in a shooing motion.

Owen chuckled and watched Chase go, his pajama pants scuffing over the floor and his old, washed-out tee riding up his back to show a line of smooth, unblemished skin. Unlike Owen who had freckles or moles scattered all over him, Chase somehow had skin prettier than the girls Owen knew. Even prettier than Julius' who'd once cornered Owen and tried to convince him to do some sort of… 'skin reginald' or whatever. Owen didn't need to slather himself with all those things Julius had insisted he needed or he'd "end up looking like an actual cave troll, rather than just being as dirty as one".

Owen shrugged to himself and finished his self-appointed chore. He did have a dumbass friend to collect.

…

Owen was expecting Luke's very rare, grumpy, irritable hangover side. He could also be extra whiny after puking his guts up, the giant baby. Owen had big plans to mess with Luke the entire long walk up to Garmon. What else are friends for?

Instead, Owen walked into something new and private, making Owen feel vaguely voyeuristic from where he stood in the hallway.

Luke was a mess, with his spiky hair everywhere and his eyes still red and heavy-lidded, traces of pillow creases over his jaw and down a bare arm, but there was a crooked, bashful grin on his face. He was sitting up in the borrowed bed, one arm braced on his pulled-up knee, the other leg stretched straight out over the tangled sheets. There was a tray of empty dishes, crumbs on a plate and tea leaf dregs in the mugs. Next to him on a small chair pressed close to the side of the bed perched Candace. It was her as much as Luke's easy smile that had Owen pulling up short. He'd known, kinda, that Luke was getting close to Candace, but he'd totally written it off as something along the lines of "a friend of a friend is a friend of mine", and that Evie had been the glue. The only reason at all, really.

But Candace was sitting closer to him than Owen had ever seen Candace willingly be with anyone outside her family. Even Kathy, who considered herself a close friend of the seamstress, was more reserved with her affections out of respect. Here, now, Candace actually had a hand on Luke's forehead, smiling in relief when she told him he was looking better already.

"Thanks to you, Candy-girl. Couldna asked for a better bedside manner," Luke teased, winking at her as Candace giggled and brushed off the comment while she moved away. Barely away, all but sitting on the mattress next to him.

That comment had Owen's brain re-wiring right there when he recognized as Luke's terrible attempt at flirting. There had been a short time when Owen had thought maybe, just maybe, he was in love with his other best friend. He'd been stupidly jealous of those few, bizarre months Rey and Luke had tried dating. He'd wised up and gotten over his romcom-plot pining, but it'd been one of the reasons he knew Kathy had only ever been a friend. He'd never wanted to toss Renee into the ocean to get her away from Kathy. (Poor Renee still had no idea why he'd ignored her for that entire year, long after the dating ended.)

So yeah, Candace might've considered it Luke making a goofy joke, but Owen knew that his dorky friend was flirting, hard, while disheveled and hungover to boot.

Candace fiddled with the canvas bag on her lap. "I brought you a change of clothes from the shop. You can keep them, of course, I got them for you. I didn't make them specifically for you, but I packed them knowing you'd like them. Maybe you'll be more comfortable on your walk home when Owen gets here."

"Aw, jeez, Candy. You take way too good a'care of me. I'm just a sloppy drunk. I didn't need all this," Luke protested, rubbing the back of his neck.

Candace shook her head. "No! You're not! You… I knew something had to be wrong. You don't drink like this, ever. Especially alone, without even Owen. I…. I just wanted to help."

Luke leaned forward, and Candace didn't so much as flinch. Merely met his eyes, surprised, when his hand fell over hers.

"Thanks, Candy. For all of it."

There was a long, quiet moment filled with warmth. Neither had yet to notice Owen lurking outside the ajar door. They were too into each other, smiling in a way that had Owen glancing shiftily away. Stamped so clearly on their faces was this weird mix of eagerness and contentment, creating this bubble of them that blocked out the rest of the world.

"I-I… uh, 'course I'll still pay for it, whatever you brought. It's gonna get ruined in that rain," Luke said finally, breaking the silence.

"Oh no! That's not why– but it's a–" Canace stuttered.

"Didncha make it yourself?"

"Y-yes…"

"Didncha make it to be bought?"

"Y-yes, but–"

"Then, I'll buy it. I bet it's awesome," Luke said decisively, a big, silly, lopsided grin on his face that was flushing a little pink.

Candace's cheeks matched his, her eyes dropping to her hands. Under his nakedly-ungloved hand, hers twisted and untwisted the handles of her tote.

"That's just not… that's so unnecessary," she whispered, a tiny smile not quite hidden under her fluffy hair.

Luke was gazing at her with a look so pathetically lost and love-struck, Owen was surprised a Greek chorus a la a Disney musical didn't burst outta the walls and wail out a love song with lyrics of zero subtlety. Owen snorted aloud and the imagery. Both bluenettes glanced up, equally startled and tomato-red.

"Owen?" Luke exclaimed, his voice a little squeaky, only to wince at his own volume.

"I should…You should change. I'm sorry you'll be kept waiting because of me, Owen," Candace apologized hurriedly, stumbling to her feet and shoving her tote into Luke's chest. He grunted at the impact, hands automatically coming up to grasp it.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Candace. The whole reason I'm here at all is this dumbass," Owen said with a smirk.

Candace shook her head, but sidled out the door without another word. Owen turned to Luke, immediately taking note of the ridiculously wistful look on his face as he gazed after where Candace disappeared.

Owen actually laughed out loud at him, broad shoulders shaking and damp hair bouncing on his forehead.

"Wow, I've been way too outta it 'cuz of my shit. How long has it been this bad, man?" Owen asked as he closed the door.

Luke frowned and shuffled off the bed, dumping his new clothes out at the same time.

"Whassat s'pposed to mean?" Luke grumbled while snatching up the shirt.

"I mean how long have you been crazy 'bout the town's shyest lady? Like, actual lady. So, stress on the crazy part, since you're basically a bull in a china shop," Owen taunted, his smirk back. Luke threw his bundle of sleep-musty shirts in Owen's face, making him bust up all over again.

"Shuddup, jackass!" Luke retorted in not-quite-a-shout. Then, leaned over and groaned, head in his hands.

"Serves ya right. Do you need help gettin' dressed? I can go get Candy back," Owen offered wickedly. He laughed again when Luke flipped him off.

He turned away slightly as Luke changed outta his jeans into the newer pair. When he looked back, Luke was smoothing a hand down his t-shirt that had a snarling tiger on the front, and his new pants were baggy cargo pants with giant pockets. The whole look was so grunge 90s it had Owen snorting loudly behind his hand.

"This is awesome. Why don't I have more things with tigers on 'em?" Luke asked, pulling his shirt away from his chest to look down at the front.

"'Cause you look like an idiot."

"I look friggin' awesome, shut your face, Gravel."

Owen held up his hands in supplication and just grinned widely. "Let's get to Garmon. I'm running late 'cuz of you."

"Yeah, yeah," Luke sighed, rolling his eyes. He shoved his things into the tote Candace left behind and Owen cleared his throat awkwardly.

He didn't know how to ask, how to talk about what he wanted to, without sounding something like a raging hypocrite. But… he could at least try.

"Dude, what's goin' on with you? Flirtin' with dancers n' gettin' drunk? It's not like you," Owen pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

Luke shrugged awkwardly. "Serena– wait, shit, Selena, ain't 'dancers'. She's just, yanno, Selena."

Owen raised an eyebrow. "Still haven' 'splained much."

Luke sighed again and slumped onto the bed. He clasped his hands between his knees and smiling sheepishly up at Owen. "I came lookin' for ya, actually. I figgered you'd be at the Bar, and I was feelin' sorry for myself. I couldn' find you, but well, I was already here… and why not?" Luke said with a shrug.

"You know you're technically too young to drink at all," Owen said, snickering.

"No one cares 'bout that here," Luke said with a snort. His gaze went a little thoughtful just a moment later. "I'm glad you weren't here last night. I guess this is shitty t'say, but I don' know how you used to do this so often."

"Definitely shitty," Owen said with a scowl. He exhaled a little, then lifted and dropped his hands uselessly. "But not 'zactly wrong. I pretended even to myself that it was for Kathy, yanno? Visitin', spendin' some auree and doin' my bit to keep town business goin'."

"But it wasn't for business," Luke finished.

Owen shook his head. "Nah. Pretty obvious lookin' back on it, but sometimes you just gotta hear another body say it to hear it," he said, a rueful little smirk on his face.

"I'm pretty sure Kat yelled it at you a hundred times," Luke said pointedly. Owen snorted loudly and the two of them chuckled.

"Okay, well, I guess it's gotta be the right somebody. Kat was a little too close t'home."

"Or maybe Chase was just more right," Luke said with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Owen's nose wrinkled. "Don' be lookin' too much into it. It's not like I'm moonin' over him like you're doing Miss Sonata."

"Mooning!? What? I don't– What? Shut up."

Owen laughed. Luke hmphed, but his mouth was twitching despite himself.

"She's kinda perfect, right?" Luke said, giving up pretty easily.

"Sure, man."

Footsteps came down the hallway and the men turned just as a timid knock came at the door. Candace peeked in when Owen opened the door, her face pink and expression hesitant.

"I thought m-m-maybe you'd want s-something hot t-to drink on the way?" Candace said, holding up a large pink and green thermos covered in a pattern of cute little frogs.

Owen twisted the top off and got a faceful of the sweet wafting scent of cinnamon and barely tea. "It's great, Candace. Thank you."

She shook her head, her hands kneaded the hem of her cardigan. "I thought… um…" Her eyes glanced to Luke.

"I'm gonna wait outside for ya. Maybe I can bully Kat into givin' me her dad's umbrella. It's better'n mine."

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Luke answered, eyes a little wild.

Just outside, Owen glanced back in to see Candace and Luke's gazes meet. Her eyes were darting all over his face, worried but pleased. Luke just looked earnest.

"You look so much better, but rest today, okay? I'll… I could… come up, if you'd like? I thought I'd make some stew, enough for you and your father and Bo."

"Stew? Like, spicy stew!?" Luke asked. Candace nodded. "That's awesome! I should say no, but my Pops would never forgive me. Bo, neither. None of us cook like you."

"It's not that good…"

"You already offered, you can't take it back!"

"I… no, I won't," Candace agreed.

That silence came back, the air between them heavy and warm. It was almost tangible, even from where Owen was standing in the hallway like a rude spy. Luke's bright eyes were almost dancing despite the redness and pale cast to his skin, and Candace was glowing. He'd never really noticed Candace, for a bunch of reasons, obviously, but if asked, Owen never would've called Candace more than pretty. Maybe. She didn't have Kathy's brightness or his own mother's broad, easy grins, some of the only things Owen noticed in women.

But the way Candace was looking up at Luke now; soft and fond and warm… She looked beautiful. Smiling so freely and happily it changed everything about her. She bloomed under Luke's eager and genuine compliments and delight in her company. The same way Luke shined under her gentle caring and admiration.

As he walked away, Owen frowned in confusion.

Why did Candace's face look familiar? Why did Luke's? There was something about the way they looked at each other, the sheen in their eyes and the way their bodies managed to gravitate closer thoughtlessly… Why…?

Owen stopped dead just inside the Bar. He would've dropped the thermos if his hands weren't clenched too tightly around it.

That's.

Chase. That's how Chase sometimes looked at him. Whenever Owen laughed instead of getting mad about something stupid and sharp that he said, whenever Owen handed him a cup of coffee just how he liked it, whenever Owen threw an arm over Chase's shoulder to make sure they could stay outta the rain under the same umbrella on the long walk to Chase's place. A hundred other times that ran through his head.

And Owen… Owen knew he looked back.

Shit .

"Oh-bro! When'dja sneak in?" Kathy asked, leaning up on the counter and grinning widely.

Owen slapped a grin on his face even though he felt like sneaking away. How could he just talk about nothing with Kathy? He wanted to run straight to his room, or to the mines, pound away at rocks until he could untangle his thoughts and feelings into real words. The thought of feelings and Chase had his chest burning.

Somewhere, hidden in his mind, there were a thousand reasons why it was bad, so bad , why it was the wrong time and the wrong thing. But he could only think about how right it felt.

"Maybe you should actually pay attention t'your job, Kat, then you'da seen me walk in like a regular person," Owen said teasingly, his smile half-hearted but his pleasure in seeing Kathy real. He easily opened his arms for Kathy to jump in for a patented-Kathy-Brass-hug.

Feelings could wait till after his friends. He'd have all night with Chase to talk it out later. The thought had his grin widening into something brighter and happier when Kathy got back on her feet.

A/N: So this ended up being as long as a normal chapter LOL. Owen is a bit slow, he needs time to notice introspect-y things, obviously. It was such fun to write his relationships with both Luke and Chase (and who wouldn't have a crush on Luke, Owen? I'm sure Rey will understand). I know I usurped a bit of Owen's timestamp with more Ludace, but I have reasons! The biggest reason is, well, I'm a sucker for it, I'm disgusting Ludace trash atm, but I also needed Owen to see LUKE having feelings to realize HE'S having feelings. So, REASONS FOR PLOT, REALLY. I hope you liked this and the pairings that are a probably gonna be endgame. I say probably, but lbr...

Next Update: 09/12/2018