Joel isn't sure how he's supposed to do much of anything when Spencer is so calmly and casually pouring them both drinks, all the while rubbing his palm against Joel's cock. His entire body trembles and for a second he feels almost faint, but then Spencer is handing a glass of whiskey to him and Joel takes it without much thought, lifting it in silent agreement to Spencer's words, knowing if he tries to speak now the only thing likely to come out is a string of half-formed words and desperate little moans. It wouldn't surprise Spencer at all, not after all this time, not knowing what he does about how quickly his words and actions and even his looks affect Joel, but he still would like to feel some of his pride for at least another minute or two. It won't last much longer than that, he's sure, not given the things Spencer has promised him, not with the way his hand is rubbing against him, and it takes Joel two attempts to actually raise the glass to his lips to take a sip. Instead of taking his time, he pauses, then tilts the glass back the rest of the way, swallowing down the shot of whiskey in one go. It leaves a trail of warmth down his throat, blooming in his belly, and when he reaches out to set the glass down again he thinks his hand might be a little bit steadier.

Then again, he may just be imagining things.

"That's more than enough," he breathes, finally able to answer Spencer's earlier question and he's pleased that the words actually come out of his mouth sounding like they're supposed to. His hips press forward, seeking more of Spencer's touch and his fingers twitch a little. He wants to touch Spencer, but there's something he likes about this, standing here in the library, his shirt off, his hands by his side, his husband rubbing against his cock while he drinks his whiskey. It makes Joel feel a little vulnerable, a little bit like Spencer could turn demanding and the only thing Joel would do is moan and obey. Anything he asked, anything he said, Joel would do it without question and so he just stands and waits, watching Spencer raise his own drink.

In just over two months they're not going to have as much time for things like this. He knows they'll find ways, they'll make time to be together, he knows there's nothing in the world that's going to stop him from reminding Spencer just how much they love each other and how well they work together, but he knows it'll be different, too. If they want an entire night alone, they'll have to make arrangements for someone to watch their baby. Their time together might be quick and hurried some days, able to happen only in the moments when they've finally gotten the baby down for a nap. Joel is certain they should be enjoying these last few months and he doesn't think anything is going to change so much that they won't still be happy and that they won't still love all their time together, but he knows it will change. He isn't afraid of that. He and Spencer are strong, they've been through so much together and this is the life they want. So he isn't afraid, but he does want to make the most of the time they have left before the baby arrives.

"Spencer," he murmurs and his hands twitch again. It's as long as he can manage without touching him and he lifts one hand, sliding his fingers under Spencer's shirt, across the warmth of his skin, and a long, shuddering sigh escapes him at the touch. His husband is so familiar, so perfect, and if he's ever wondered what it really means to come home, then this is it. Being able to touch Spencer in such a familiar way, being able to know every curve and dip and line of his skin over bone and muscle. He can trace the curve of Spencer's ribs and the bumps of his spine, the flats of his shoulder blades and the ridge of his collarbone and he knows every last detail.