Out Of The Shadows

Owen tried to lighten up the mood, which had plummeted. He used his usual wit and goofiness on a small group of his coworkers who had found enough empty chairs to congregate together. It was harder than usual to get them going, given the circumstances, but after a bit they couldn't deny him their smiles and laughter. He did anything he could think of, not caring that he was getting odd looks from other people nearby--actually, that made it even better. Owen was always willing to make himself the butt of his own jokes if it meant they'd get laughs.

Slaughter had soon joined him in the impromptu comedy act. They were causing quite the scene, so much so that security approached and threatened to toss them both out of they kept up their rowdy behavior. The threatening scowls of the security men--who were laughable in their threats really, because they were both smaller than Owen and Sarge, were soon converted to the dark side and were laughing and having a good time along with the others.

After a bit, Sarge began to take over the 'show', with Owen only tossing in a good one-liner here and there. It was then that he noticed, looking over the group of familiar faces and beyond, that Shawn wasn't there. He was sure he'd seen Shawn briefly when he'd entered the airport. He had meant to wish him a Merry Christmas like he had all the others, but he hadn't had the chance at that moment.

Owen glanced around, finally spotting Shawn off by himself. He moved away from the group, and sat down in one of the empty chairs next to Shawn, grinning, wearing a ridiculous Santa hat.

"Merry Christmas, Shawn!" Owen pulled the last miniature candy cane out of his shirt pocket, and handed the wrapped minty treat to Shawn. "Last one, and it's just for you!"

The familiar voice made him look up, though slowly since despite the rowdy voices, fatigue had begun to take over him. He suppressed a yawn as he looked at Owen, who was wearing the most rediculous hat. It was hard to be mad at him for disturbing what may have been a cat nap coming along. His eyes briefly met Owen's bright ones but he quickly averted his eyes, staring at the candy cane, sighing.

He really didn't want anything from anyone. The only gift he wanted was te ability to wake up in his own home with or without someone. But...he was too tired and frustrated to get into a battle over his acceptance of a piece of candy so he took it, putting it in his front pocket. "Thanks,"he mumbled quickly looking away. "Don't know about merry, but if I ever make it home, Ill be sure to put the candy cane over my fireplace."

He resumed his posture from before, slumped shoulders and head hanging low as he once again attempted to block everyone out.

"Aw, Shawn...don't be so depressed. It's Christmas Eve! We can't be stuck in this airport forever. It'll pass. That storm's probably letting up as we speak!" Owen glanced over at a wall of floor-to-ceiling glass panes, grimacing a little. Nothing could be seen but hateful white swirls.

Shawn finally held his head up leaning back in his chair scowling. He glanced over towards the window then shot Owen a look. "Nice try O, but your cheery mood and optimism can't beat out reality. It doesn't seem to be letting up and if I have to spend Christmas in this goddamned airport I won't go back to the WWF until I've had my Christmas vacation."

He toyed with a strand of his hair. Great. It was bad enough he had to spend Christmas break alone anyway but now it was gonna be ten times worse if he couldn't at least spend it home alone. Top it off with a bad breakup and career suicide in the form of a screwjob and you had the recipe for worst Christmas ever. "It never fucking ends. I need a drink."

"Aw...such a Debbie Downer Shawn!" Owen patted Shawn's back briefly, and then left to go find a vending machine. He bought a bottle of Pepsi and on the way back made sure to shake it up until he could feel the pressure building up tight inside the plastic bottle. He sat back down next to Shawn.

"Ta-da! Ya said you wanted a drink, do ya like Pepsi? Everybody does, right? Lemme open it for ya." Owen opened the soda, which sprayed him in the face and wet his blond hair, making the short locks tumble onto his forehead and stick.

"Ah jeez...I kinda did need a shower, but I usually use water. Can you believe that? Ya stupid bottle!"

Owen tossed the emptied bottle onto the floor, and began to stomp on it, cursing it. After a moment of huffing at the bottle and threatening it, he purposefully slipped on the soda that was on the floor and took the bump hard, right on his ass, with a shocked, comical expression on his face. That expression slowly morphed into a horrible glare that was somehow more funny than threatening. He grabbed the bottle, pulled himself up, and went to a nearby trashcan, limping slightly. With a triumphant HA! he slammed the bottle into the trash can, and walked back towards Shawn with a look of smug accomplishment, and sat back down.

"I sure showed that who's boss! Ya don't mess with a two-time Slammy award winner!"

Shawn tried his damndest not to laugh. I mean really, it was more ridiculous than anything and very embarrassing. People were looking their way while Owen was covered in soda, stains visible all over his clothing. His face and hair were wet and he was certain as time passed, the younger Hart was getting sticky. He looked away from Owen, covering his face with his hands. He snickered then came a snort until he burst out laughing. He looked up to see a few workers, scowling as they bustled about to clean up the rest one of the ladies mumbling something about hating wrestlers. This only made Shawn a little proud of Owen because in his mind, you're only doing your job well if people hate you for it.

When Shawn was calm enough to breathe again properly, he glanced over at Owen, running a finger down his damp cheek. He licked his finger. "I shouldna done that. Now I really need to smoke." He lifted his feet while the worker mopped under his chair. As soon as she was out of sight, he looked over at Owen talking quietly. "You're not like him at all are ya? Bret...I mean."

"Not really. My nose is a hell of a lot bigger." He poked at his nose, smiling a little at Shawn. "No...we're pretty different. We're both apples but Bret's green and I'm red. He's sour, and I'm sweet." He joked, laughing a little.

Shawn cracked a small smile, thinking to himself that Owen--joking or not--was telling the truth. Bret was sweet, especially when they were away from the world but otherwise he could be pretty sour or green as Owen put it. "I guess your folks knew what they were doing when you came along. Sometimes I think Bret's head would explode if he didn't have some kind of...unbalance in his life at times."

Shawn looked away. He was doing it again. Talking about a Hart to a Hart's face which was definitely something he shouldn't be doing. He toyed with necklace, praying--no. He didn't pray. He didn't really believe in God so rather he kept wishing and hoping he could go home soon before things could start fucking with his head again.

"Hm...I don't know. If they knew what they were doin' I think there woulda been condoms involved. As for heads exploding...I'm not a big fan of that so I try to help minimize cranial combustion when ever I can. That's why I do stupid things like...beat up soda bottles and fall on my ass. I'm good at listening too."

His thoughts turned briefly to Bret once more, to the late night hours and hours he'd often spent listening to Bret go on and on about Shawn, until his anger and annoyance at both himself and Shawn wound down to tears and frustration, and finally sleep.

"Lotsa times listening helps more than talking does." Bret should have tried that with you... Owen thought to himself, remembering various fights he had heard about or heard because he was in the next room. "If ya don't believe me, try me sometime, if ya ever wanna blow off some steam or somethin'."

Shawn was still wary to do much conversing with a Hart. It began much like this with Owen's brother. Bret showed the slightest bit of interest and concern one day so then the next thing he knew, they were in bed together. Fast forward a year later and they were on the verge of destruction which finally happened a few weeks ago.

Shawn shifted in his seat, now growing extremely uncomfortable and in desperate need of something to take the edge off. "I...don't talk much, especially about myself. Besides, the less you know about me, the better." Shawn looked around the airport trying to see what everyone else was doing but most were either fighting sleep, or talking among themselves about their holidays plans which as of right now, he had none. He turned away from them, getting lost again in his thoughts of the holidays and now his back, which had started hurting all over again. How the hell am I gonna make it out of here without nutting up?

Owen could feel the tension begin to come between them again, it was coming off of the way Shawn shifted in his seat, and the look in his eyes. He also noticed that Shawn's back must be aching again. He could tell by Shawn's movements and the way he slightly winced, probably trying to hide it, but not capable of completely masking it. After a few more moments, Owen decided to leave Shawn be for a little while. He didn't want to push too much, but he also had an idea that might be helpful to Shawn. It was bad enough that they were stuck here in a snowstorm on Christmas Eve, but for Shawn to also be in that kind of pain? It just wasn't right--it was the holidays, and this wasn't a way to spend them.

Owen made his way over to Slaughter once more, and pulled him off to the side talking to him lowly.

"I know ya got a bottle of hooch hidin' in your luggage, come on!"

"Sssh!!" Sarge pressed his finger to Owen's lips. "Hush...security might hear ya!"

"I wanna buy it from you." Owen went on, playfully licking at Sarge's finger. With a slight grimace Sarge wiped his finger on his shirt.

"Don't lick me, I don't know where your mouths been." Sarge joked back, and ruffled Owen's hair. "Why the hells your hair all fuckin' sticky?"

"Just never mind. How much ya want for your booze? Name your price."

The day wore on, slowly and for the most part dully. Once in a while an announcement about the weather would come on over the PA which only made matters worse. Owen kept up his badgering on Sarge, convinced that he'd eventually break him into giving up his stashed bottle. He was right, Sarge finally gave in, and just gave him the bottle of his Christmas hooch in order to get Owen to stop pestering. Owen tucked the small bottle of expensive liquor into his coat pocket, and headed back over to where Shawn was still sitting, looking more irritable than ever.

"Shawn!" Owen spoke lowly. "Come to the bathroom with me for a minute. Don't question it...just c'mon."

He pulled Shawn after him towards the restroom, and ducked in, with a devious looking grin on his face. He opened one of the empty stalls and backed into it, flashing the bottle at Shawn from beneath his coat. He didn't see any real harm in it. They were stuck here miserably at the airport, the least they could do was make a little merry in their own way, and no one had to know about it. Bret would have never done something like that. But he wasn't Bret, and he saw nothing wrong with a bit of fun. "Ya looked like you could use a drink." He sat down on the tile floor of the bathroom stall, opened the bottle, and took a sip. "Ooh...that's pretty good stuff. I almost feel bad Sarge is gonna miss out on this."

Shawn's mood continued to go from worst to...well whatever was ten times worse than the worst. Every half hour some annoying blonde lady with a high pitched voice would speak over the PA giving them all good news about the weather and each time she spoke, a collective groan could be heard or in Shawn's case, several explicit words that he grumbled under his breath even though several times he was on the brink of shouting them. But he knew it wasn't the lady's fault about the weather. Only mother nature controlled it so he tried to direct all of his anger towards that little bitch. It wasn't working but it made him feel a little better.

He stretched out his arms, breathing deeply to take away from the back pains. Before he knew it, he was being dragged to his feet. "Hey! He--ey! Owen what the fuck man--?" It was too late now and rather than cause a big scene, he sighed, allowing Owen to drag him along. If anything it got him out of his chair for a while.

He had no idea what the hell Owen was up to but when he pulled out that bottle of booze, his jaw dropped. "How did you--?" He looked around the restroom closing the gap between them, shielding Owen in case someone walked in on him. "Have you lost it?" he hissed. "And Sarge--wait? Butt chinned Sarge? He smuggled booze?" Shawn pondered this for a moment. "Heh! Maybe he's not such a dick afterall. I'll have to tell Hunter to ease up on him in our next segment."

He watched Owen sip on the booze, his lips curving into a smile. "Ya know, I always heard you were into mischief but this?!?" He pondered the situation some more but then decided he really did need that drink. "Well ya dragged me here so get with the sharin' already."

Owen had Shawn shut the stall door behind them, and sit down. He passed the bottle to him.

"It's not that big of a deal...really. We're stuck here we might as well make merry in the best way we can. And yeah, Sargey likes his alchy. I didn't hafta end up payin' for it either! He just gave it to me so I'd shut up about it." He grinned over at Shawn, leaning back against the metal wall of the stall.

Any other person would probably complain about sitting on the floor next to a potty sharing a bottle of booze but not Shawn. Hell there were plenty of times where he woke up, slumped over near the John after chunking most of his guts up from having one too many. Shawn turned up the bottle downing a little. He winced, holding the bottle out to study the bottle. "Oh man...Sarge can do so much better, but it's better 'n nothing right now."

He downed a bit more, the burn and bittersweet taste slowly sending much needed calm to various jumping nerves. He handed the bottle back to Owen, leaning back against the wall. Sitting on the floor was probably a bad idea. On the other hand, if that drink was as expensive as it tasted, he knew he wouldn't feel the pain much later anyway. "Thanks for the drink. Your choice location for consumption's right on. If I get wasted at least I don't hafta worry about the fucking staff around here screaming at me when I barf all over their shiny floor."

He smiled a little, studying Owen for a moment. He smelled a interesting combination of Pepsi and whatever cologne he wore but it oddly suited him. Anything else just wouldn't seem right after the show Owen put on earlier. He wondered how somebody could feel so comfortable making a fool of himself just to get others to cheer up. He saw him handing out candy canes before the flights and even going out of his way to cheer up guys who were longing to be home, guys like him. He met Owen's eyes again looking--looking for something, but he wasn't sure what it was yet. People weren't genuinely this nice so why did it seem like Owen was genuinely a nice guy?

He figured it was part of the post relationship funk where you started clinging or feeling stuff that wasn't really there but your head it was. Something like that--he didn't know. He averted his gaze, face heating up at having been caught. He clamped a hand over his heart toying with his favorite necklace.

Owen took another drink of the alcohol, he laughed, coughing on it a little before it went down.

"Barf on the floor, Shawn? Hey ya know what would be funny...fake barf on the floor. Freak people out. I used ta scare one of my sisters with a fake spider all the time when we were little. I thought of so many places to put that thing. Dad took it away eventually, 'cause he was tired of hearin' her scream. Especially at 3am when she went into the bathroom and it was on the toilet..." He laughed, remembering that scream making his boyish eyes sparkle in the dark and his lips curve into a big smile as he sat up in his bed, awake, and waiting as the numbers on the clock ticked by, for just such a victory cry. "It was great. Kinda woke everyone up though, made a few people grumpy. She came in and yelled at me, and the whole time, I pretended to be out cold asleep--pissed her off SO BAD. Soon as she left I laughed so hard I cried. Good times."

Owen finished with a smile at the memory, his eyes sparkling. He had a million of those kinds of stories, and he often replayed those in his head when he was feeling down or lonely. He handed the bottle back to Shawn, enjoying the warm feeling that settled in his belly from the liquor.

"It's quiet in here. This is kinda nice...well...give or take the smell." He held his nose and spoke through it, making his voice sound purposefully funny. The place didn't really smell that bad, for a mens room. "Actually, I'd rather someone take it."

Shawn shook his head, smiling a little. "There would be no living with you. I couldn't imagine Hunter or somebody pulling some of that shit with me. I'd be furious....much like your sisters." He took the bottle staring down at it. It was really nice of Owen to get the bottle and share it. He still found it odd that Owen was hell bent on spreading cheer to people like him who would rather sit and scowl alone.

He took another sip then hands it back to Owen. "I'm tipsy which means I need to quit. Anymore and I'll leave out of here ready to damn this airport to hell. I'm tired, sore, frustrated and despite wanting to finish that disgusting bottle alchy, I can't or else they might not let me on the plane. I really, really wanna go home."

He glanced around the stall for a random spot he could stare at. It was quiet in here and after a while you got kinda use to the smell so that wasn't an issue. He could probably sit here for the rest of the wait. At least he wouldn't be disturbed outside of a random flush of the toilet. "It is quiet, but I don't think I need to be found in a stall alone with you." He stood to his feet, offering Owen a hand.

Owen took another last drink from the bottle, and put it back in his coat. He grabbed Shawn's hand to pull himself up, but his bum knee buckled before he was stood all the way up and caused him to tumble back down--pulling Shawn with him and on top of him. The back of his head caught the toilet bowl with a hard thud, which coupled with the alcohol made his head fuzzy-dizzy and sent black dots temporarily floating before his eyes...which were looking back up at Shawn's soft golden-brown hair, his jewel like eyes, his pretty complexion, his...lips... Owen's hands trailed through Shawn's hair, and before he realized what was going on, he had wrapped his fingers gently into Shawn's hair, and pressed their lips together, kissing Shawn.

Shawn's body just froze, torn between freaking out over Owen's head and reacting to fingers massaging his scalp with the added pleasure of lips pressed against his. In the end, his eyes closed momentarily parting enough to return the kiss. His back hurt, his head felt funny and he was kissing Owen Hart. Owen...

Shawn's eyes opened and he quickly scrambled off of Owen, feeling a combination of freaked and angry. He sat with his back against the stall glaring daggers at Owen but more mad at himself for letting his guard down and being weak. After a while he finally calmed down enough to scramble over to Owen, lifting his head. There was a knot forming near the back of it; one he hoped wasn't too too serious. "C-come on. Let's get you up and out of here before you end up killing yourself."

Owen stared up briefly at the ceiling, then squeezed his eyes closed.

"Sh...Shawn...don't think I can get up right now. So...dizzy. Gimme jussa minute." Owen closed his eyes, waiting for the spinning, whirling, sensation to calm down. He could feel the throb of pain at the back of his head, slowly filling his entire head until it felt like some tiny man was banging on a drum in there. He opened his eyes slowly, his head feeling a little more stable.

"Okay...think I'll be okay now." He sat up carefully, and then gripped the toilet to help himself up, but the sudden change of position kept him on his knees, and from going any further. His head seemed to be doing somersaults over and over. The alcohol along with his breakfast was choked out into the toilet bowl. He laid his head down against the bowl, waiting for the world to stop spiraling and for his stomach to settle down.

"Aaagh...fuck...dizzy..." He laughed just a little, he couldn't help it. "I guess we donneed the fake puke anymore, huh."

Shawn winced, totally disgusted by the barfing but it wasn't like he wasn't used to it. With a sigh, he scooted away from Owen, leaning back against the stall. "No point in you trying to go anywhere until you get it out of your system. I didn't realize you were such a light weight. Don't drink if you can't handle it."

He closed his eyes, now torn between leaving Owen on his own to deal with this and staying. He knew leaving would be wrong, especially since Owen has helped him out a few times. However, he didn't ask to be rescued from Vader nor did he ask to be rescued from that alley. He was feeling warm and the longer he stayed with Owen, the more awkward it became--at least on his part.

Shawn scrambled to his feet, leaving the stall.He took a seat outside of it, grateful to be out of the confined space. "I'm right here. I just...can't be in there anymore. Too cramped," he mumbled. "Sorry I tried to move you. I didn't think. I never fucking do."

"Ya don't hafta stay Shawn. I'll be okay in a minute, just knocked my head pretty hard. I'm not a lightweight either. Well...not...maybe a little bit." Owen took a few deep breaths, and grabbed some toilet paper to wipe off his mouth. "Damn knee..." He muttered, blaming it for the newly formed knot at the back of his head.

He pulled himself up carefully, and was glad when he found that the dizziness could now be tolerated. He flushed the toilet and pulled the bottle out of his coat, and left it on the back of the toilet tank, not wanting anything to do with it from here on out. He left the stall, and went to the sink to wash his hands.

"Still dizzy, but I'll be okay." He added, quietly rinsing the foam from his hands. He shut the water off, and that annoying voice came on over the speaker again--only this time, she brought good tidings of great joy. The storm was finally calming down, and it looked like flights would be back up for the evening. Cheers and hoots could be heard, drifting into the restroom, from the people out in the lobby.

Shawn watched as Owen slowly made his way over to the sink to clean himself up. He would have helped him, but if Owen said he was okay then he was going to respect that. He himself didn't like it when people made such a fuss over him and he often tried to treat others as he himself liked to be treated.

Shawn slowly got to his feet, making his way over to the sink. At that moment they both received good news and it took everything in him not to celebrate like an idiot. "Finally," he grumbled. "About fucking time. I still might skip the next Raw. As WWF Champ, I can do that and get away with it. This delay of flight cut into my serious R&R time."

He stared at Owen a moment, trying to see if he looked okay. "Are you sure you can walk alright?" He didn't wish for a repeat of what happened earlier and even though he felt extremely uncomfortable right now, he wasn't gonna leave Owen to walk on his on when he really didn't feel up to. He knew people would talk, but hell, it would be a small price to pay for helping out a coworker and a genuinely good man.

"I can make it, thanks Shawn."

The holidays came and went. Family filled up the Hart home, voices raising to talk over one another, food aplenty thanks to Helen. It was good to be back home, and to see his family--especially Bret. Owen felt more normal than he had in weeks. When things were quiet at night, he and Bret talked about WCW a little, but it was enough to let Owen decide that at this point, he didn't want to be there. Not only did them company seem in danger of folding in on itself, but Bischoff was described as genuinely creepy by Bret, who was trying to figure out if the annoyance with shoe-polish hair and beady eyes, was trying to come on to him. That was something he really didn't want.

The anger and hurt still flashed beneath Bret's eyes, especially in these quiet moments, when he wasn't as caught up in the family and holiday happenings. His mind had less to distract it, and so it went back to Montreal and gnawed at itself until it was consumed, and Bret just stared up at the ceiling, scowling at it, his hands fisted into the covers. Owen stayed quiet in the bed next to Bret's, in the room they were sharing while home. He hated to see Bret like this, but no amount of stupid ribs would take that deep seated pain and rage away from him.

Time would only tell if the wound could begin to mend, but right now, it was still too raw and bleeding to allow Bret much sleep at night. What he did get was fitful, and often kept Owen awake, watching and feeling helpless. All the times as a kid Bret had calmed him with gentle, soft spoken words, all the things his brother had done for him, taught him, all the ribs Bret had taken from him even when he wasn't in the mood, but there was nothing Owen could do.

"Shawn? Shawn!" Bret sat up in bed, in the darkness, his skin slicked in a cold sweat and his hair hanging over his face. So many emotions stormed through him like a howling hurricane, winds pounding like iron fists, rain beating like shards of glass. He grabbed his pillow, and with a frustrated growl, threw it across the room. It hit the door with a loud 'WHUP' sound, and flopped onto the floor. Bret dropped his head into his hands, rubbing at his eyes, wanting them to stop leaking. He laid back down and curled up, hastily smearing the tears away from his face.

"Bret?" Owen said quietly, having been awakened as soon as Bret had called Shawn's name.

"Go to sleep, Owen." Bret said wearily, sniffling a little. "Just go back to sleep."

Owen did as Bret asked.

After the holidays found Owen back on the road, ready to tackle Raw on the 29th. The plan was that he would challenge Shawn for the WWF title, and during the match he'd lock Shawn into the Sharpshooter. Triple H would then interfere, giving Owen the win by DQ but allowing Shawn to keep the title.

"Ya have a good Christmas, jabroni?" Rocky asked as he past through the locker room, stopping to give Owen his trademark eyebrow.

"Hm? Oh sure, it was pretty good." Owen smiled a little. "Got to rest my knee up for a couple days so...think it should be fine now."

Rocky nodded, and moved over to his locker. Owen went to his too, and started getting ready for his match.

Shawn enjoyed his holiday very much. He spent it alone for the most part, but it was what he wanted. He was tired of being on the road. That same old routine of bouncing from one empty hotel room to the next and traveling hours on end in a car was exhausting and got old quick. He did not go to the doctor because he had a feeling the doc would tell him more good news so when he wasn't lying in bed taking it easy, he was over at his sister's letting her work his back.

"Shawn, when is enough going to be enough?" She added pressure to his lower back wincing every time he twitched or groan.

"Shari, I didn't come here for a lecture alright? Will you just do your damn job."

His sister would do as told and in between the rubbings she would remind him that he was just a man, he was not superman, and that he could break just like every other man on this planet. He of course, would ignore her because she couldn't possibly understand what it was like to carry the weight of the World Wrestling Federation on your shoulders.

He was not in no hurry to get back to the grind, but since his back felt a little better he decided not to give Vince and Pat a heart attack by actually showing up for a match he wasn't exactly thrilled about. The match went well enough. The crowd popped big time when Owen managed to get him in the sharpshooter. He couldn't help but roll his eyes, flipping a few fans the middle finger as he existed behind the curtain after the match. His back held out pretty well. It wasn't as stiff but there was soreness--as to be expected--but it was something he could live with.

He entered the locker room taking a seat in the corner with Hunter who was going on and on about his holiday. Shawn was happy for him but when asked about his own, all he could do was shrug. "I rested my back, had food with the fam but otherwise spent the time alone."

H frowned. "You shoulda came over and hung out with us man. My mom made your favorite--cheesecake--which I have some for ya if you want it later."

Shawn grinned, kissing his buddy on the cheek. "Thanks man. Drop it by my room--you have a key I'm sure. I think I'm going straight back to the room. My night hasn't been ruined yet so maybe I don't need a drink."

H patted his back. "That's the spirit. I'll see you later tonight."

Shawn waved goodbye to his friend and resumed kicking off of his clothes. He was in dire need of a quick, hot rinse off. He walked across the room, ignoring the looks he was getting from Kenny who conveniently decided to stick around even though his match ended an hour ago. He ignored him, walking past him like he didn't even notice. He noticed Owen sitting in another corner of the room, messing around with his knee. He thought about going up to him, asking him about it but he was unsure if Kenny would cause trouble. There were rumors of him leaving the WWF--not necessarily to go to WCW--but even still he did not trust him. He nodded cordially to Owen then slipped past him for a shower.

Owen went to shower too, at the opposite end of the room. Kenny followed not long after, buddying up under the shower head just next to Shawn's. Owen might see the point of affording a man what little privacy an open shower room could give, by taking one furthest away, but Kenny didn't. Ken made no attempt to hide his stares as his eyes roamed hotly over Shawn's body.

"So Shawn, ya need a butt buddy for the night?" Ken asked, snorting a little. "I could be your buddy...and you have quite the ass."