It's exactly what he wants to hear and Joel almost laughs, the sound breathless and delighted as Spencer's words pull a full body shudder out of him. Heat had been growing inside him since the very first moment in the bar that he realized what they'd be going back to the apartment to do and now that they're here, it's expanding, growing, taking him over, sending little electrical pulses down his arms and legs. The heavy air feels like it's clinging to him, to them both, like they're wearing it as a second skin and he doesn't know if the night is really as humid as it feels or if it's just the two of them together, incredible like they always are, but he doesn't care what's causing it. It only adds to everything Joel is feeling, making his skin feel slick and when he ducks his head again and presses his lips to Spencer's shoulder he can feel that he's damp too, damp and warm and he drags one hand slowly up the length of Spencer's body so he can enjoy it fully before his hips drive forward, harder this time, burying himself deep inside Spencer.
"Fuck, Spencer," he manages to grit out and even now, Joel rarely curses. He tends to leave it to Spencer even in moments like this and he loves so much the things his husband can say, somehow all without sounding silly or uncomfortable. No matter what Joel does, whenever he tries to do the same, he's often very aware of how he sounds and ends up feeling as if he's not doing it properly, but right now it's easy enough to lose himself in the feeling of Spencer's body, hot and tight around him, the press of his husband's cock against his stomach, how hard he is, how badly Joel wants to reach between them and take Spencer in his hand and begin to stroke him. He can get lost in the fact that there's here together, alone and drunk and happy, he can get lost in it enough that when he curses, it comes out sounding natural, an expression of just how good he feels, and it doesn't even occur to him for a single second that it might sound awkward or what he should be embarrassed. Not that he ever feels embarrassed when he's with Spencer. The one person in the entire world he's always comfortable with is this perfect man he's with right now.
He reaches up with one hand, hooking his fingers first around the edge of the chair, but they fall to Spencer's shoulder a second later. Every part of him is craving Spencer, every last bit of him wants to be touching, their skin sliding against each other, their movements always in this undeniable rhythm they find together. His hips are moving a little faster now, but more than anything he's focused on burying himself as deep as he possibly can inside Spencer's body. He's surrounded by his heat and Joel's head tips forward, his forehead resting against Spencer's for just a moment as he fights for control and then realizes he's going to lose. He has no control here, he never has any control when it comes to this man, his beautiful husband, and he shouldn't even try.
Carefully, without losing his balance, he shifts and manages to slip one hand between their bodies as his other slips down from Spencer's shoulder, travels across his chest and then ends up anchored at his hip. His fingers wrap around Spencer's cock, though he doesn't stroke him yet, just holds onto him as he sits up a little, braces his knees against the chair and draws their bodies together at the same time. His head feels like it's spinning, between the whiskey and the feeling of being inside Spencer and knowing what his husband wants him to do, but he thrusts harder, faster, and he can hear the sound of their skin coming together, he can see the sparks already going off behind his eyelids and he trembles as he fucks Spencer harder yet, desperate little moans escaping him with every thrust. His thumb sweeps over the head of Spencer's cock, smearing pre-come, and he wishes he could do everything at once. He wishes he could taste Spencer right now and without thinking he lifts his hand to his mouth, licking his thumb clean before he wraps his fingers around Spencer's cock again.
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"Fuck, Spencer," he manages to grit out and even now, Joel rarely curses. He tends to leave it to Spencer even in moments like this and he loves so much the things his husband can say, somehow all without sounding silly or uncomfortable. No matter what Joel does, whenever he tries to do the same, he's often very aware of how he sounds and ends up feeling as if he's not doing it properly, but right now it's easy enough to lose himself in the feeling of Spencer's body, hot and tight around him, the press of his husband's cock against his stomach, how hard he is, how badly Joel wants to reach between them and take Spencer in his hand and begin to stroke him. He can get lost in the fact that there's here together, alone and drunk and happy, he can get lost in it enough that when he curses, it comes out sounding natural, an expression of just how good he feels, and it doesn't even occur to him for a single second that it might sound awkward or what he should be embarrassed. Not that he ever feels embarrassed when he's with Spencer. The one person in the entire world he's always comfortable with is this perfect man he's with right now.
He reaches up with one hand, hooking his fingers first around the edge of the chair, but they fall to Spencer's shoulder a second later. Every part of him is craving Spencer, every last bit of him wants to be touching, their skin sliding against each other, their movements always in this undeniable rhythm they find together. His hips are moving a little faster now, but more than anything he's focused on burying himself as deep as he possibly can inside Spencer's body. He's surrounded by his heat and Joel's head tips forward, his forehead resting against Spencer's for just a moment as he fights for control and then realizes he's going to lose. He has no control here, he never has any control when it comes to this man, his beautiful husband, and he shouldn't even try.
Carefully, without losing his balance, he shifts and manages to slip one hand between their bodies as his other slips down from Spencer's shoulder, travels across his chest and then ends up anchored at his hip. His fingers wrap around Spencer's cock, though he doesn't stroke him yet, just holds onto him as he sits up a little, braces his knees against the chair and draws their bodies together at the same time. His head feels like it's spinning, between the whiskey and the feeling of being inside Spencer and knowing what his husband wants him to do, but he thrusts harder, faster, and he can hear the sound of their skin coming together, he can see the sparks already going off behind his eyelids and he trembles as he fucks Spencer harder yet, desperate little moans escaping him with every thrust. His thumb sweeps over the head of Spencer's cock, smearing pre-come, and he wishes he could do everything at once. He wishes he could taste Spencer right now and without thinking he lifts his hand to his mouth, licking his thumb clean before he wraps his fingers around Spencer's cock again.