The words come out in a harsh puff of air--you're mine--and Spencer knows he's finished. At least in that one moment, he's finished, he could collapse right now and die happy, and it's because being with Joel has always been so much that it's too much. This feels like too much love for one person to have for another. He's wrong, of course. From the day they'd met, his feelings for Joel--his love for Joel--had grown with every passing second. He'd let himself become consumed by someone for the first time in his life and it should have been terrifying because he knows what it's like to be used, to be judged, to be pitied, to be hated. Joel has never made him felt that way and that's how Spencer had known he was different. Joel hadn't thought twice to save his life the day of the Hydra, the day of that monster in the water, the day of the lighthouse, but Joel had saved him, too, from a self-imposed isolation that Spencer hadn't even realized had been slowly destroying him.
He never has to be alone again. They'd taken longer than most to get their relationship started because they'd been nervous, both of them sure of what they'd felt but doubting the other. Spencer has no doubt now, none whatsoever, and he rests the back of his head on Joel's shoulder as his husband moves so expertly in and out of him, going the perfect pace and saying the simplest but most perfect things. You're mine. I love you. He doesn't need more than that. He doesn't need flowery language or hyperbolic poetry; he doesn't need grand gestures or expensive gifts to remind him that Joel loves him. He's reminded of how much he's loved all the time, with every look that he and Joel share. He's being reminded of it now in the way his husband is thrusting so deeply inside of him, possessing him, making every awful memory that comes with being in this room slowly melt away.
When they come in here now, this is what he'll think about. It's not just a promise he's making himself, not just a thing he's thinking he'll do just so he doesn't have to admit that he's still afraid. He is still afraid, he'll always remember what Mark had done to him here, but he can't let that control him. This, he can give into safely, healthily, happily. Joel making love to him, stroking his cock, whispering in his ear, it's all so much more than Spencer could ever have thought would happen to him and the fact that it's happening here, in the place where Spencer wishes even now that he would have kissed Joel, is beyond significant. Sometimes he thinks he's beyond repair, that he's simply been too damaged to continue on in life as a proper human being, but Joel has changed that. Joel makes him feel like he can do anything.
He's tempted to wrap his other hand over Joel's, help his husband stroke his cock until he makes a mess of this library, but Spencer only grips the railing tighter. He knows his husband wants to take care of him tonight, as if he doesn't already do that every night, and besides that, he's sure that if he doesn't have a grip on the banister, he'll fall immediately to his knees as soon as Joel pulls out of him. His moaning is stilted, unsteady, and he knows he's getting close. He can feel all of Joel, every piece of him, and he loves to be filled but he also loves when their bodies are flush against each other because it's like they're acting as one unit. It's nothing new, not really, they're harmonious in most of the things they do together; but this, to be so in tune with each other's wants and needs like this, it speaks to something deeper. Something that will only ever be shared between the two of them. They belong to each other and it's with that thought echoing through his mind that he shudders in his arms, tears spilling down his cheeks, and grasps at the railing as his knees start to buckle.
"I'm-- Joel, please, please." He's begging but he's not entirely sure what it is he's begging for, whether he wants Joel to move faster or thrust harder or go deeper, or if he never wants Joel to stop.
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He never has to be alone again. They'd taken longer than most to get their relationship started because they'd been nervous, both of them sure of what they'd felt but doubting the other. Spencer has no doubt now, none whatsoever, and he rests the back of his head on Joel's shoulder as his husband moves so expertly in and out of him, going the perfect pace and saying the simplest but most perfect things. You're mine. I love you. He doesn't need more than that. He doesn't need flowery language or hyperbolic poetry; he doesn't need grand gestures or expensive gifts to remind him that Joel loves him. He's reminded of how much he's loved all the time, with every look that he and Joel share. He's being reminded of it now in the way his husband is thrusting so deeply inside of him, possessing him, making every awful memory that comes with being in this room slowly melt away.
When they come in here now, this is what he'll think about. It's not just a promise he's making himself, not just a thing he's thinking he'll do just so he doesn't have to admit that he's still afraid. He is still afraid, he'll always remember what Mark had done to him here, but he can't let that control him. This, he can give into safely, healthily, happily. Joel making love to him, stroking his cock, whispering in his ear, it's all so much more than Spencer could ever have thought would happen to him and the fact that it's happening here, in the place where Spencer wishes even now that he would have kissed Joel, is beyond significant. Sometimes he thinks he's beyond repair, that he's simply been too damaged to continue on in life as a proper human being, but Joel has changed that. Joel makes him feel like he can do anything.
He's tempted to wrap his other hand over Joel's, help his husband stroke his cock until he makes a mess of this library, but Spencer only grips the railing tighter. He knows his husband wants to take care of him tonight, as if he doesn't already do that every night, and besides that, he's sure that if he doesn't have a grip on the banister, he'll fall immediately to his knees as soon as Joel pulls out of him. His moaning is stilted, unsteady, and he knows he's getting close. He can feel all of Joel, every piece of him, and he loves to be filled but he also loves when their bodies are flush against each other because it's like they're acting as one unit. It's nothing new, not really, they're harmonious in most of the things they do together; but this, to be so in tune with each other's wants and needs like this, it speaks to something deeper. Something that will only ever be shared between the two of them. They belong to each other and it's with that thought echoing through his mind that he shudders in his arms, tears spilling down his cheeks, and grasps at the railing as his knees start to buckle.
"I'm-- Joel, please, please." He's begging but he's not entirely sure what it is he's begging for, whether he wants Joel to move faster or thrust harder or go deeper, or if he never wants Joel to stop.