Spencer can't ever remember a time in his life when he'd daydreamed about what it would be like to be with somebody like this, to find love and a life so full of the kinds of guarantees that can't be found anywhere else. He isn't blind, he can acknowledge that this town has a knack for attracting the attractive, but Spencer had always found that remaining withdrawn worked in his favor far more than putting himself in the line of fire possibly could. He hadn't been a risk-taker and while he hadn't necessarily had a strict routine, anything drastically unexpected in a day could rattle him for a week. He's simply never been the type to crave excitement, at least not the sort found in real life. He'd reasoned quite early on that there couldn't be anything in the world that he couldn't learn from a book, fictional or not, but it hadn't been until he'd met Joel that he realized how wrong he'd been all this time.
This is better than a book. This isn't a story crafted by an artist with a keyboard, this is real, they are real, Joel has made him Real. Spencer feels like he's been phoning it in for the last ten years, doing the same thing almost every single day without complaint because the ultimate truth is that he hadn't necessarily had a problem with his old life until his mother and brother had been killed. He'd enjoyed his job, he'd enjoyed visits from patrons seeking his recommendations and assistance, he'd enjoyed the infrequent yet frequent enough outings with Dane and his circle of post-high school friends, and he hadn't had a single moment of frozen terror over the idea that he might never find someone. It hadn't mattered, not then, not even after his arrest and release.
Meeting Joel had been the breath of fresh air Spencer hadn't even realized he'd needed. He looks at Joel now, and he can't imagine how he'd gotten through life all this time without him. His husband has all of him, has become a part of him, they're so deeply connected that he's still convinced that tightness he'd felt in his chest the day they'd banished the demon had been due to a flicker, a threat of Joel being taken away from him, and Spencer doesn't exactly know what that means other than the significant fact that at this point, he wouldn't know how to live without Joel. He can't explain it to anyone because he doesn't know how to verbalize it, he's given up trying because even as half a bookstore owner and former librarian, Joel constantly manages to find new ways to render Spencer speechless.
The low moan that sounds from his throat at Joel's lips against his jaw is nothing short of undignified, and he knows his husband is healing, he knows that; but, he reasons, the very first time they'd had sex, he'd still been wearing his cast and that clearly hadn't stopped either of them from following through on their need for each other. "I think the tree will forgive us if we call it a night," he answers, a quiet gasp escaping him as a shiver runs down his spine. "Besides, I think we deserve a break, don't you?"
He takes a step backward, mindful of keeping Joel's injured hand from falling too quickly from his hip, and tugs lightly on his husband's other hand, offering a coy smile as he nods toward the stairs. "I know you're still in pain, but we've got the house to ourselves. We ought to take advantage of it. Besides, I can think of more than just the one way to get you inside me." He leans in for another kiss, tracing Joel's bottom lip with his tug before trapping it gently between his teeth as he pulls back with a soft, sheepish laugh. "It's far too cold for popsicles right now, I've had to resort to candy canes. Hardly the same effect, though I do still think you taste much, much better."
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This is better than a book. This isn't a story crafted by an artist with a keyboard, this is real, they are real, Joel has made him Real. Spencer feels like he's been phoning it in for the last ten years, doing the same thing almost every single day without complaint because the ultimate truth is that he hadn't necessarily had a problem with his old life until his mother and brother had been killed. He'd enjoyed his job, he'd enjoyed visits from patrons seeking his recommendations and assistance, he'd enjoyed the infrequent yet frequent enough outings with Dane and his circle of post-high school friends, and he hadn't had a single moment of frozen terror over the idea that he might never find someone. It hadn't mattered, not then, not even after his arrest and release.
Meeting Joel had been the breath of fresh air Spencer hadn't even realized he'd needed. He looks at Joel now, and he can't imagine how he'd gotten through life all this time without him. His husband has all of him, has become a part of him, they're so deeply connected that he's still convinced that tightness he'd felt in his chest the day they'd banished the demon had been due to a flicker, a threat of Joel being taken away from him, and Spencer doesn't exactly know what that means other than the significant fact that at this point, he wouldn't know how to live without Joel. He can't explain it to anyone because he doesn't know how to verbalize it, he's given up trying because even as half a bookstore owner and former librarian, Joel constantly manages to find new ways to render Spencer speechless.
The low moan that sounds from his throat at Joel's lips against his jaw is nothing short of undignified, and he knows his husband is healing, he knows that; but, he reasons, the very first time they'd had sex, he'd still been wearing his cast and that clearly hadn't stopped either of them from following through on their need for each other. "I think the tree will forgive us if we call it a night," he answers, a quiet gasp escaping him as a shiver runs down his spine. "Besides, I think we deserve a break, don't you?"
He takes a step backward, mindful of keeping Joel's injured hand from falling too quickly from his hip, and tugs lightly on his husband's other hand, offering a coy smile as he nods toward the stairs. "I know you're still in pain, but we've got the house to ourselves. We ought to take advantage of it. Besides, I can think of more than just the one way to get you inside me." He leans in for another kiss, tracing Joel's bottom lip with his tug before trapping it gently between his teeth as he pulls back with a soft, sheepish laugh. "It's far too cold for popsicles right now, I've had to resort to candy canes. Hardly the same effect, though I do still think you taste much, much better."