He feels a bit of a rush at being gently bent over the banister, legs spread for his husband as he readies himself for what's to come. A few months ago, they'd been up here sharing a bottle of whiskey and feelings that neither of them had been able to make much sense of yet. Spencer remembers blaming everything on the whiskey that had gotten him drunk, to be sure, but hadn't taken him so far over the edge of reason that he hadn't imagined with perfect clarity what it would be like to kiss Joel, even to just touch him. He'd even found himself, at one point, wishing that he'd fallen on the way back down the ladder because he'd already known Joel would catch him. It's like they'd skipped past all exercises in trust, Spencer had simply known that Joel would be there, and it had been both exhilarating and significantly terrifying at the same time.
To think that they've come so far in so short a time might be cause for alarm if Joel was anybody else but he isn't, Joel is Joel, the only person who's ever understood and accepted Spencer for exactly who he is. Spencer doesn't feel the typical need to hide parts of himself from his husband, and he hadn't exactly created a false persona for himself for others, but he'd always been quiet and withdrawn, not like he is with Joel. Even when they don't speak, they manage to say so much to each other, and he's never had that kind of connection with anyone else. The closest he'd come had been with Dane, but it had been different. They're brothers, they'd been close, and Spencer had trusted Dane with most things. Joel, though, Spencer trusts with everything. His mind, his body, his heart--all of him belongs to Joel, and it's incredible to know that Joel gives Spencer all of himself in return.
There's no holding back his ragged moan when he feels Joel's tongue entering him. He'd been anticipating it but without the ease of being able to turn his head to see what his husband's doing, he's left only with a vague idea of everything Joel might do to him tonight. It's like the evening they'd shared on the Fourth of July, when Joel had turned him over on the table and fucked him, or when Joel had done this to him for the first time on the couch in Crossroads. Spencer loves being face-to-face with Joel when they're intimate because it means Joel can lean in to kiss him, to brush his hair from his face, to get as close to him as possible; but there's something enormously appealing about this, too, about having every last nerve in his body tingling with the expectancy and excitement.
Joel's tongue works masterfully inside of him, and Spencer knows very well that if they carry on for long he'll come just like this. He can't resist pushing his hips back in an effort to feel his husband's tongue moving deeper, and he shivers at how incredible it feels when Joel spreads his ass wider with his hands somehow gentle and firm all at once. He wants to return this favor for Joel, one day and soon, because Spencer is fairly certain that there are few things that could possibly be more intimate. This isn't something he'd do for just anyone, isn't something he'd let just anyone do to him. It takes an immense level of trust to let someone this close, to be this free with his body, entirely unashamed and unafraid. Nobody had even seen him naked in over eleven years by the time Joel had found him and now, there's nobody else he could ever want.
"Oh, god." Another shudder rocks his body as he drops his head to his chest, knuckles white from gripping the railing so tightly. He's been up here many times, has let his legs dangle over the edge of the second level as he'd flip through the pages of a book, and now it feels like being home again because his husband has made it so. The library had been his place of refuge for so long and that sense of safety had been stripped from it in the blink of an eye. This, though. This is starting to make up for that, and Spencer knows he still has a long way to go in the healing process but he has the best kind of help. He reaches a trembling hand between his legs and strokes his cock, rubbing his thumb over the head to spread the pre-come that's pooled there before resuming with pushing through his fist. He closes his eyes, unsure of whether the image of Joel's cock or tongue in his ass is the more desirable one right now, but he decides relatively quickly that he needs to be filled.
"You're going to make me come," he says, voice raw and laced with need, with desire. A well-placed flick of Joel's tongue makes him huff out a breathless laugh as he tightens his grip around his cock with a wince. "You're so-- God, I love you." He repeats the words between soft, sharp gasps, resting his chin on his shoulder as he tries to get a better view of what Joel's doing to him, but he doesn't last long in that task because he lets his eyes slip shut so he can get lost in the feeling of how amazing Joel always makes him feel.
no subject
To think that they've come so far in so short a time might be cause for alarm if Joel was anybody else but he isn't, Joel is Joel, the only person who's ever understood and accepted Spencer for exactly who he is. Spencer doesn't feel the typical need to hide parts of himself from his husband, and he hadn't exactly created a false persona for himself for others, but he'd always been quiet and withdrawn, not like he is with Joel. Even when they don't speak, they manage to say so much to each other, and he's never had that kind of connection with anyone else. The closest he'd come had been with Dane, but it had been different. They're brothers, they'd been close, and Spencer had trusted Dane with most things. Joel, though, Spencer trusts with everything. His mind, his body, his heart--all of him belongs to Joel, and it's incredible to know that Joel gives Spencer all of himself in return.
There's no holding back his ragged moan when he feels Joel's tongue entering him. He'd been anticipating it but without the ease of being able to turn his head to see what his husband's doing, he's left only with a vague idea of everything Joel might do to him tonight. It's like the evening they'd shared on the Fourth of July, when Joel had turned him over on the table and fucked him, or when Joel had done this to him for the first time on the couch in Crossroads. Spencer loves being face-to-face with Joel when they're intimate because it means Joel can lean in to kiss him, to brush his hair from his face, to get as close to him as possible; but there's something enormously appealing about this, too, about having every last nerve in his body tingling with the expectancy and excitement.
Joel's tongue works masterfully inside of him, and Spencer knows very well that if they carry on for long he'll come just like this. He can't resist pushing his hips back in an effort to feel his husband's tongue moving deeper, and he shivers at how incredible it feels when Joel spreads his ass wider with his hands somehow gentle and firm all at once. He wants to return this favor for Joel, one day and soon, because Spencer is fairly certain that there are few things that could possibly be more intimate. This isn't something he'd do for just anyone, isn't something he'd let just anyone do to him. It takes an immense level of trust to let someone this close, to be this free with his body, entirely unashamed and unafraid. Nobody had even seen him naked in over eleven years by the time Joel had found him and now, there's nobody else he could ever want.
"Oh, god." Another shudder rocks his body as he drops his head to his chest, knuckles white from gripping the railing so tightly. He's been up here many times, has let his legs dangle over the edge of the second level as he'd flip through the pages of a book, and now it feels like being home again because his husband has made it so. The library had been his place of refuge for so long and that sense of safety had been stripped from it in the blink of an eye. This, though. This is starting to make up for that, and Spencer knows he still has a long way to go in the healing process but he has the best kind of help. He reaches a trembling hand between his legs and strokes his cock, rubbing his thumb over the head to spread the pre-come that's pooled there before resuming with pushing through his fist. He closes his eyes, unsure of whether the image of Joel's cock or tongue in his ass is the more desirable one right now, but he decides relatively quickly that he needs to be filled.
"You're going to make me come," he says, voice raw and laced with need, with desire. A well-placed flick of Joel's tongue makes him huff out a breathless laugh as he tightens his grip around his cock with a wince. "You're so-- God, I love you." He repeats the words between soft, sharp gasps, resting his chin on his shoulder as he tries to get a better view of what Joel's doing to him, but he doesn't last long in that task because he lets his eyes slip shut so he can get lost in the feeling of how amazing Joel always makes him feel.