He's been goaded more than once--specifically, he supposes it's worth mentioning, by Coop, who barely gets a reaction out of Spencer anymore because the man is who he is without apology but with a great deal of admittedly likable charm--what his and Joel's sex life is like, how often they're intimate and in how many different ways, and Spencer thinks that if he were to ever divulge such private information, people might be surprised about the answers they get. Sometimes it still surprises even him to remember that he'd gone eleven years without having sex or worrying about when he would again to having it nearly every night.
Everything about his life had changed the moment he'd met Joel, not only in the bigger ways like his sex life or the way he responds to people when they come calling now, but in the finer details, too. A glass of whiskey is shared rather than taken alone, dinner isn't delivery but home-cooked, and when he settles down for bed with a book at night, there's a strong chest beside him that serves as much better pillow than his own. There's no denying that his husband has changed him, and he doesn't think anyone who'd known him even remotely well before he'd met Joel would disagree; but at the same time, Spencer still feels like himself, but in a way that he's more happy to embrace and accept.
He's never been especially insecure, he hasn't spent a great deal of time wondering or even really caring what others think of him. The only time that had been an issue of concern had been at the peak of the frenzy that had followed his family's deaths because it's hard to ignore threats and harassment and unbridled hatred when he's simply walking down the street. But even the pain of those memories, of having people spit in his direction or look at him as if they truly could believe he'd been responsible for killing his own mother and brother, has faded because the love of his life goes to such great lengths to make Spencer feel like this world isn't the awful place he'd once believed it to be. He doesn't look in the mirror and see a pallid complexion or excessively heavy bags under his eyes anymore; he sees someone who is genuinely happy with his life, who has gained a sense of optimism for his future, and it makes him smile like nothing else. Joel always brings that out of him, the smile that he wouldn't be able to muster for anyone who isn't his husband, and it makes its way across his features now.
"Love you," he manages to gasp after a particularly well-placed thrust, his hips rolling with pleasure and the desire for more. His cock feels like its throbbing in Joel's hand, and the floor of the bouncy castle is making it awfully difficult to keep himself steady but it doesn't matter because Joel keeps moving, keeps fucking him, and Spencer is desperate to come already but wishes this could go on forever. This is an incredible gift Joel has given him, and it's not just that they're making love, it's everything. He's never had sex on his birthday, has never been presented with the chance to, though he suspects he wouldn't have taken it even if he did.
It's not that he'd viewed sex as especially valuable or meaningful, certainly not after his prom night encounter that had left him feeling so exposed and vulnerable after Darcy had run off to join a party as if they'd never fallen into bed together at all. But then he'd discovered what had been lacking for him after he and Joel had first made love, and it'd been the connection he hadn't even known he'd wanted. His entire adult life had consisted of almost friendships, of almost getting close to people he likes but could never quite connect with until that one day in May when his entire world had shifted.
He's married now, an expecting father, and on his birthday, his husband is pumping in and out of him inside an adult bouncy castle that's been set up in the backyard where his family had been killed. It's all absurd, every last bit of it, because his life has been so full of tragedy that to be countered with such joy almost seems wrong because so few people get a chance to feel like their pasts can stop defining them. Joel has never looked at him like a man who's been accused of murder, there's never been a moment of quizzical study as he'd considered whether or not Spencer had done it. His husband simply loves him for who he is, would believe anything Spencer says, which is exactly why he will never take advantage of that.
"God," he groans, eyes flying open and widening as the sound of skin against skin starts to echo against the castle walls. "God, Joel, please. Please, I'm getting close, I want to feel you first. I want-- I want--" He's rambling, he knows he is, he barely even knows what he's saying anymore because he can feel the tinglings of bliss starting up in his belly, but it doesn't matter. He knows Joel will understand him because he always does. "You're so perfect, baby, I love you so much."
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Everything about his life had changed the moment he'd met Joel, not only in the bigger ways like his sex life or the way he responds to people when they come calling now, but in the finer details, too. A glass of whiskey is shared rather than taken alone, dinner isn't delivery but home-cooked, and when he settles down for bed with a book at night, there's a strong chest beside him that serves as much better pillow than his own. There's no denying that his husband has changed him, and he doesn't think anyone who'd known him even remotely well before he'd met Joel would disagree; but at the same time, Spencer still feels like himself, but in a way that he's more happy to embrace and accept.
He's never been especially insecure, he hasn't spent a great deal of time wondering or even really caring what others think of him. The only time that had been an issue of concern had been at the peak of the frenzy that had followed his family's deaths because it's hard to ignore threats and harassment and unbridled hatred when he's simply walking down the street. But even the pain of those memories, of having people spit in his direction or look at him as if they truly could believe he'd been responsible for killing his own mother and brother, has faded because the love of his life goes to such great lengths to make Spencer feel like this world isn't the awful place he'd once believed it to be. He doesn't look in the mirror and see a pallid complexion or excessively heavy bags under his eyes anymore; he sees someone who is genuinely happy with his life, who has gained a sense of optimism for his future, and it makes him smile like nothing else. Joel always brings that out of him, the smile that he wouldn't be able to muster for anyone who isn't his husband, and it makes its way across his features now.
"Love you," he manages to gasp after a particularly well-placed thrust, his hips rolling with pleasure and the desire for more. His cock feels like its throbbing in Joel's hand, and the floor of the bouncy castle is making it awfully difficult to keep himself steady but it doesn't matter because Joel keeps moving, keeps fucking him, and Spencer is desperate to come already but wishes this could go on forever. This is an incredible gift Joel has given him, and it's not just that they're making love, it's everything. He's never had sex on his birthday, has never been presented with the chance to, though he suspects he wouldn't have taken it even if he did.
It's not that he'd viewed sex as especially valuable or meaningful, certainly not after his prom night encounter that had left him feeling so exposed and vulnerable after Darcy had run off to join a party as if they'd never fallen into bed together at all. But then he'd discovered what had been lacking for him after he and Joel had first made love, and it'd been the connection he hadn't even known he'd wanted. His entire adult life had consisted of almost friendships, of almost getting close to people he likes but could never quite connect with until that one day in May when his entire world had shifted.
He's married now, an expecting father, and on his birthday, his husband is pumping in and out of him inside an adult bouncy castle that's been set up in the backyard where his family had been killed. It's all absurd, every last bit of it, because his life has been so full of tragedy that to be countered with such joy almost seems wrong because so few people get a chance to feel like their pasts can stop defining them. Joel has never looked at him like a man who's been accused of murder, there's never been a moment of quizzical study as he'd considered whether or not Spencer had done it. His husband simply loves him for who he is, would believe anything Spencer says, which is exactly why he will never take advantage of that.
"God," he groans, eyes flying open and widening as the sound of skin against skin starts to echo against the castle walls. "God, Joel, please. Please, I'm getting close, I want to feel you first. I want-- I want--" He's rambling, he knows he is, he barely even knows what he's saying anymore because he can feel the tinglings of bliss starting up in his belly, but it doesn't matter. He knows Joel will understand him because he always does. "You're so perfect, baby, I love you so much."