He knows he needs to get control of himself, find a way to focus on Spencer instead of just losing himself in the sensation of his husband's lips and tongue on his cock, and Joel tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling as his chest heaves and he tries to catch his breath. It almost works, he's almost able to calm himself down, but then Spencer says he needs him and Joel feels something inside him ready to unravel as his body sags back against the shelf. Very distantly, he considers himself lucky that whoever Spencer had build the library did a good job of it, because the shelf supports his weight and Joel almost laughs before he lets himself look down at Spencer again. He's never felt anything like this. Nothing in his life even comes close and his smile softens a little as his fingers ghost over the curve of Spencer's cheek. He's never loved anyone like this, he's never wanted so badly to make someone happy, to protect them, to do anything in the world to keep them safe and content and feeling loved, and Joel knows how special it is. He knows how unusual. He knows he'll never take this for granted or forget just how incredibly lucky he is that Spencer loves him in return.
"Stand up," he murmurs, his voice hoarse and ragged as his fingers hook gently under Spencer's chin. He urges him to stand, then hooks an arm around him, tugging him close so Joel can kiss him again, long and slow, his hips arching forward, grinding himself against Spencer's hip and he knows what Spencer wants, but it's so easy to get distracted. Everything about Spencer distracts him from the feel of his warm skin under Joel's hands to the sounds he makes, the way his breath hitches out of him when Joel presses up tighter against him. He loves knowing he can do that, he can control the gasps and breaths that come out of Spencer when they're like this, he loves knowing that if he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin of Spencer's throat, that his eyes are going to close and he's going to make a soft sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a moan.
But he knows what Spencer wants and after he chases the path his teeth have taken with the tip of his tongue, Joel nudges him back gently, then turns him around, guiding him toward the railing. Like the shelf, he's sure it's strong enough, at least for now, and when he has Spencer turned against him he ducks his head, pressing kisses along the back of his neck, across the span of his shoulders. It's so easy to write Spencer off as a tall, skinny man, someone who might be all sharp angles and bones, but Joel is the only one who gets to see him like this. He's the only one who knows under Spencer's sweaters -- or Joel's cardigans, more often than not, the ones that are far too big on him -- there's warm, smooth skin over lean muscle and he mumbles something incoherent against the curve of Spencer's shoulder as his hands roam over his body. He's the only one who gets to slide his hands down Spencer's back, who knows what he looks like when he's undressed, who gets to appreciate every movement, every shift of his body, and he hopes Spencer knows that he does appreciate it all.
Joel's mouth follows his hands and he presses kisses down the centre of Spencer's back, over the ridges of his spine as he slowly lowers himself to his knees. His hands anchor themselves over the edges of Spencer's hips and for a moment he can only sit there on his knees, holding onto Spencer, his lips pressed against the dip of his lower back. "I love you so much," he murmurs against Spencer's skin, turning his head slightly to rub his cheek against him. Then he tugs gently, pulling Spencer's hips toward him a little, angling his back so he can press a kiss to the curve of his ass, his lips tugged into a grin briefly.
This is his life now. This is his perfect life, one he never imagined he'd have, one he'd never looked for. He's never expected to feel so loved, so trusted, and as his tongue flicks out, sweeping over Spencer's skin, a tease more than anything right now, he feels a swell of emotion, one he feels every single time they're intimate. Then it's lost in a moan as his hands tighten on Spencer, pulling him harder against his mouth, his tongue working over him and inside him and Joel knows it's just preparation, but he's also certain he could lose himself in this.
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"Stand up," he murmurs, his voice hoarse and ragged as his fingers hook gently under Spencer's chin. He urges him to stand, then hooks an arm around him, tugging him close so Joel can kiss him again, long and slow, his hips arching forward, grinding himself against Spencer's hip and he knows what Spencer wants, but it's so easy to get distracted. Everything about Spencer distracts him from the feel of his warm skin under Joel's hands to the sounds he makes, the way his breath hitches out of him when Joel presses up tighter against him. He loves knowing he can do that, he can control the gasps and breaths that come out of Spencer when they're like this, he loves knowing that if he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin of Spencer's throat, that his eyes are going to close and he's going to make a soft sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a moan.
But he knows what Spencer wants and after he chases the path his teeth have taken with the tip of his tongue, Joel nudges him back gently, then turns him around, guiding him toward the railing. Like the shelf, he's sure it's strong enough, at least for now, and when he has Spencer turned against him he ducks his head, pressing kisses along the back of his neck, across the span of his shoulders. It's so easy to write Spencer off as a tall, skinny man, someone who might be all sharp angles and bones, but Joel is the only one who gets to see him like this. He's the only one who knows under Spencer's sweaters -- or Joel's cardigans, more often than not, the ones that are far too big on him -- there's warm, smooth skin over lean muscle and he mumbles something incoherent against the curve of Spencer's shoulder as his hands roam over his body. He's the only one who gets to slide his hands down Spencer's back, who knows what he looks like when he's undressed, who gets to appreciate every movement, every shift of his body, and he hopes Spencer knows that he does appreciate it all.
Joel's mouth follows his hands and he presses kisses down the centre of Spencer's back, over the ridges of his spine as he slowly lowers himself to his knees. His hands anchor themselves over the edges of Spencer's hips and for a moment he can only sit there on his knees, holding onto Spencer, his lips pressed against the dip of his lower back. "I love you so much," he murmurs against Spencer's skin, turning his head slightly to rub his cheek against him. Then he tugs gently, pulling Spencer's hips toward him a little, angling his back so he can press a kiss to the curve of his ass, his lips tugged into a grin briefly.
This is his life now. This is his perfect life, one he never imagined he'd have, one he'd never looked for. He's never expected to feel so loved, so trusted, and as his tongue flicks out, sweeping over Spencer's skin, a tease more than anything right now, he feels a swell of emotion, one he feels every single time they're intimate. Then it's lost in a moan as his hands tighten on Spencer, pulling him harder against his mouth, his tongue working over him and inside him and Joel knows it's just preparation, but he's also certain he could lose himself in this.