Spencer hums his agreement, and he's not even quite sure what's agreeing to or what Joel's even saying right now because he's far too preoccupied with watching his husband's hands on his belt, watching the way his shoulders move and the muscles in his back shift as he undoes the buckle. He loves watching those hands works, feeling his husband's fingertips, calloused from labor but still always so gentle, ghosting over his skin in small patterns that Spencer always tries to make out but inevitably ends up distracted by the taste of Joel's lips. There is no part of this man that Spencer doesn't love, fully and with all his heart, that Spencer doesn't appreciate; there's not a part of Joel that Spencer would ever want to change, and he knows Joel would say the same of him.
So much of Spencer's fear of getting close to anyone has had to do with the fear of losing them, of losing someone he loves again, but there had also been an underlying questioning of self-worth. Getting close to someone means letting down his walls, letting that person in to see his nuances, his insecurities, all the little bits and pieces that make him who he is. The thought of someone taking one look at what makes him tick and running the other direction, of leaving but by choice, has always been such a cause for distress. Joel, though, Joel is different. He's always been different, just like Spencer, and somehow it's been exactly what makes them work so well together. Joel had looked into his aura, and he'd stayed. Joel had seen what the experience in the lighthouse had done to him, and he'd stayed. Joel knows him better than anyone, inside and out and all over, and still he stays. Twenty-nine years of being alone seems like absolutely no time at all considering he gets to spend the rest of his life with this man.
He lifts himself up a bit so he can tug his shirt the rest of the way off, tired of the constraint of it, and lets it join Joel's shirt on the floor. They could easily be caught, he doesn't even know if the front door is locked, but just like the intimacy they'd shared in the bookstore and even out in the ocean, there's a bit of thrill behind it. It is their house, they can do whatever they want, but he's becoming more and more convinced with every passing second that being naked on this couch with his husband would be an excellent way to spend their evening.
"God, I want you," he moans, rolling his hips, and he's sure he's slowly going mad because his pants still aren't off yet and surely that must violate their vows in some way. There had to have been a hidden stipulation that discussed how long is too long a stretch of time before his husband gets him naked, but Joel doesn't seem to remember that one so Spencer just reaches out to tug lightly at his husband's hair. "You do realize that if this doesn't end with both of us completely undressed, we're going to have to have a very serious conversation later. Perhaps while you're fucking me in the library."
He's been in there a handful of times between the lighthouse and now, mostly just to switch out for a book to read, though most notably had been the day of his panic attack. The time is quickly approaching, he thinks, that he ought to make new memories in that room, better than Mark smashing that glass against his head or sobbing into Raleigh's lap and Joel's shoulder. Spencer moves his hand from Joel's hair to his jawline, tracing his finger of the length of Joel's beard and smiling softly. "I hope you don't see any problems with that."
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So much of Spencer's fear of getting close to anyone has had to do with the fear of losing them, of losing someone he loves again, but there had also been an underlying questioning of self-worth. Getting close to someone means letting down his walls, letting that person in to see his nuances, his insecurities, all the little bits and pieces that make him who he is. The thought of someone taking one look at what makes him tick and running the other direction, of leaving but by choice, has always been such a cause for distress. Joel, though, Joel is different. He's always been different, just like Spencer, and somehow it's been exactly what makes them work so well together. Joel had looked into his aura, and he'd stayed. Joel had seen what the experience in the lighthouse had done to him, and he'd stayed. Joel knows him better than anyone, inside and out and all over, and still he stays. Twenty-nine years of being alone seems like absolutely no time at all considering he gets to spend the rest of his life with this man.
He lifts himself up a bit so he can tug his shirt the rest of the way off, tired of the constraint of it, and lets it join Joel's shirt on the floor. They could easily be caught, he doesn't even know if the front door is locked, but just like the intimacy they'd shared in the bookstore and even out in the ocean, there's a bit of thrill behind it. It is their house, they can do whatever they want, but he's becoming more and more convinced with every passing second that being naked on this couch with his husband would be an excellent way to spend their evening.
"God, I want you," he moans, rolling his hips, and he's sure he's slowly going mad because his pants still aren't off yet and surely that must violate their vows in some way. There had to have been a hidden stipulation that discussed how long is too long a stretch of time before his husband gets him naked, but Joel doesn't seem to remember that one so Spencer just reaches out to tug lightly at his husband's hair. "You do realize that if this doesn't end with both of us completely undressed, we're going to have to have a very serious conversation later. Perhaps while you're fucking me in the library."
He's been in there a handful of times between the lighthouse and now, mostly just to switch out for a book to read, though most notably had been the day of his panic attack. The time is quickly approaching, he thinks, that he ought to make new memories in that room, better than Mark smashing that glass against his head or sobbing into Raleigh's lap and Joel's shoulder. Spencer moves his hand from Joel's hair to his jawline, tracing his finger of the length of Joel's beard and smiling softly. "I hope you don't see any problems with that."