Spies Are Forever One-Shots

Sometimes

(Hello again. Welcome back to me unnecessarily destroying my soul because I'm bored. Today's segment is about Curtwen. Surprise, surprise. This one is also, again, about Curt suffering. My theory is because he's like the best agent at the agency, he gets the biggest and hardest missions. So then, he gets a little [or a lot] stressed and irritated and sometimes just gets tipped overboard. Then we have soft Owen who loves him more than anything and just hugs him a lot when he's sad and takes care of him a lot and is the best. So this is that. Hopefully, it makes more sense than the 100 word A/N I wrote)

(Have fun with your emotions kids)

(Modern-day but they still spy)

Crap. 

That's all this past month had been. 

Curt had been on 7 different missions in the last month. All of them harder than the last. Of course, he got through them quickly and did them well but, sometimes it can be too much.

Curt prided himself in being the best agent at the A.S.S. Sure, he could be cocky and arrogant at times but he was also reliable and efficient. Being one of the best meant that he got put on some difficult missions. Sometimes that meant copious amounts of torture until you're hanging on to life by a mere thread. Other times that meant having to go into deep disguise in foreign countries. 

Sometimes, however, he would have easier missions. Like manipulating governments and going undercover to retrieve documents. And sometimes, he was put on missions with his wonderful boyfriend of almost 4 years, Owen. Curt needed Owen like humans needed water. Of course, he could live without him but he didn't even want to think about a time when that would happen. He had known Owen for almost 7 whole years now. He loved him to the ends of the Earth and back. He loved waking up next to him in their crappy bed. He loved inhaling his scent every time he hugged him. He loved the feel of Owen's soft lips against his. He loved his dark brown eyes, his perfectly cut sideburns, the very faint freckles on his face that you could only see once you can up close, his slightly crooked jaw, and his perfectly posh British accent. 

Curt walked to one of his many safe houses, soaked in his own blood. He was on the verge of either dying or have a breakdown right in the middle of the sidewalk. That's what 7 missions in the last month will do to you. Most of those missions involving torture. You would think the number of people on the streets at 2 a.m. would be very little. You're wrong. There were too many people for Curt's liking. He could hide most of the blood thanks to his jacket but he had a prominent limp coming from his broken left leg. The list of injuries he collected from that one mission was a broken leg, a sprained ankle, many broken fingers, a broken arm, two stab wounds (none in vital places but they bled a lot), and a broken wrist. 

Curt stumbled to insert the correct code for the lockbox next to his safe house. He would have to patch himself as much as he could and then call someone in the morning. He eventually got the correct code in and unlocked the door, immediately collapsing against one of the walls.

"Curt?" A familiar voice called out as a light turned on. Curt picked his head up just enough to see a very tired Owen standing in the doorway.

"Owen?" That was the last thing Curt said before collapsing and passing out, exposing his blood-soaked chest. Owen quickly scrambled to his side to examine him. He would have to clean Curt up himself. 

(A few hours later)

Curt woke up with blinding pain running through his body. It was undescribable. It was like a million knives were being stabbed into him at the same time. Ok, maybe it was descibable but that wasn't the point. The point was he was alive. Curt didn't really know what happened or where he was exactly. He was tired and hungry and in immense amounts of pain. He tried to sit up but it was too hard.

"Curt? Oh, thank dead god your alive." Owen sat down next to him and handed him some painkillers and a glass of water.

"Yeah, barely."

"What happened to you?"

"Well you know how I haven't been home in a while? Well, I've been on no less than seven missions this months. It's kind of a lot but I've gotten through it. It's been hard though. Lots of broken bones and lots and lots of blood. I mean a lot. It's just been very hard to hold it together and.. and-" Curt couldn't hold it in any longer. He broke down crying, putting his head in his hands. Owen, on instinct, wrapped his arms around the shorter man and brought him into his chest. They stayed there for a couple of minutes until Curt calmed down.

"Y'know, Curt. I read something somewhere that made me think of you. Sometimes, you have to push through the hard times in life to get to the rainbow at the other end. And that's why I love you as much as I do. You always find that rainbow. No matter how much crap you've been through. You find it." Owen didn't unwrap his arms from Curt the whole time.

"I love you too." Curt mumbled into Owen's chest. They really loved each other. No matter what happened. They really loved each other. No matter what they went through.

They really loved each other.

<<->><<->>

Welp that's another chap done. Sorry this took so long to write. I've had school and my brother is now using my personal computer for school which is the one I write on. So yeah. I don't really have much to say and I'm rushing to get this out so thank you all for reading this and have a nice day/night/whatever. Bye Bye.

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Peace Out :))