There are moments when Spencer is quite certain that Joel simply possesses the power to read his mind, that's how uncannily often his husband seems to know exactly what he's thinking and voice the exact same thought. Though he knows what's beyond the sight of his husband--the lights brightening skyscrapers, the shuffle of people on the streets below, the shopkeepers waiting for the last couple hours before they're ready to close--none of it seems to matter. Nothing else ever seems to matter when they're wrapped up in each other like this and most of the time, even when they're not. Very soon, they'll be expanding their hearts and lives to include a baby, the child they've been wanting to meet for what feels like forever now, and Spencer knows when that day comes, they won't be able to say they've ever been happier.
But in this particular moment, Spencer has never felt more content. All he can do is sigh, releasing any remaining tension that had built in his muscles from tightening from his orgasm, and closes his eyes so he can hone in on every shift of Joel's cock still inside him, every puff of breath from Joel's lips onto his skin, every drip of sweat that lands on his chest. He shivers at the sound of Joel's low voice in his ear and again when his husband starts to pull out of him, groaning when one leg then the other are lowered uselessly back down to the chair. He feels like his limbs have turned to jelly, and he's not entirely certain that he'll be able to make it to the shower on his own; but given an extra minute to recover, Spencer knows the temptation of being under that warm spray of water with his husband's arms wrapped around him, keeping him safe and protected and loved, will be too overwhelming to resist for any reason, much less for being tired.
When he tries to push himself up from the chair, though, it's to no avail, and he collapses onto his back with a short laugh as he runs a hand through his damp hair. "A little sore," he explains, smirking as he arches a brow up at his husband, though it's not just his ass and legs that are the problem. There are still fading bruises on his back that have only been somewhat aggravated from being fucked against the chair and his shoulder, too, has suffered a bit; but there's nothing about the minor pain that troubles him much, he'd expected it. The effects of drinking both Joel's potion and the whiskey have gone a long way in keeping those issues off his mind tonight, and he doesn't intend on letting them worm their way back in now.
"The good kind," he continues, making another attempt at pushing himself up and this time succeeding as he presses a kiss to Joel's lips, more of a firm reassurance that he's fine than anything else. "The kind that I'm going to wake up to tomorrow and desperately want you to recreate before we have to leave." He pauses, pushing out his bottom lip in a playful pout. "Do we really have to leave? Erin can have the baby here, can't she? The living room is big enough, or there's always the tub. Water births have grown a great deal in popularity in recent years."
It's with a conceding groan that he forces himself to get up from the chair, wobbling just a bit because of his unsteady legs and the effects of the alcohol, which have weakened but are apparently still flowing through him just enough to affect his balance, and Spencer grips Joel's arm to keep himself upright as he takes a step forward. There's a slight breeze on the balcony that cools the warm evening air, and Spencer knows that the apartment is air conditioned but he takes one last look over his shoulder at the skyline before they walk through the glass doors.
"I'm never going to forget this night," he says, looking to Joel with a small smile. "What we did, what we're going to do, how you made me feel. How you always make me feel." He brushes his lips over Joel's shoulder, then over the line of his jaw. "I'm not going to forget any of it."
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But in this particular moment, Spencer has never felt more content. All he can do is sigh, releasing any remaining tension that had built in his muscles from tightening from his orgasm, and closes his eyes so he can hone in on every shift of Joel's cock still inside him, every puff of breath from Joel's lips onto his skin, every drip of sweat that lands on his chest. He shivers at the sound of Joel's low voice in his ear and again when his husband starts to pull out of him, groaning when one leg then the other are lowered uselessly back down to the chair. He feels like his limbs have turned to jelly, and he's not entirely certain that he'll be able to make it to the shower on his own; but given an extra minute to recover, Spencer knows the temptation of being under that warm spray of water with his husband's arms wrapped around him, keeping him safe and protected and loved, will be too overwhelming to resist for any reason, much less for being tired.
When he tries to push himself up from the chair, though, it's to no avail, and he collapses onto his back with a short laugh as he runs a hand through his damp hair. "A little sore," he explains, smirking as he arches a brow up at his husband, though it's not just his ass and legs that are the problem. There are still fading bruises on his back that have only been somewhat aggravated from being fucked against the chair and his shoulder, too, has suffered a bit; but there's nothing about the minor pain that troubles him much, he'd expected it. The effects of drinking both Joel's potion and the whiskey have gone a long way in keeping those issues off his mind tonight, and he doesn't intend on letting them worm their way back in now.
"The good kind," he continues, making another attempt at pushing himself up and this time succeeding as he presses a kiss to Joel's lips, more of a firm reassurance that he's fine than anything else. "The kind that I'm going to wake up to tomorrow and desperately want you to recreate before we have to leave." He pauses, pushing out his bottom lip in a playful pout. "Do we really have to leave? Erin can have the baby here, can't she? The living room is big enough, or there's always the tub. Water births have grown a great deal in popularity in recent years."
It's with a conceding groan that he forces himself to get up from the chair, wobbling just a bit because of his unsteady legs and the effects of the alcohol, which have weakened but are apparently still flowing through him just enough to affect his balance, and Spencer grips Joel's arm to keep himself upright as he takes a step forward. There's a slight breeze on the balcony that cools the warm evening air, and Spencer knows that the apartment is air conditioned but he takes one last look over his shoulder at the skyline before they walk through the glass doors.
"I'm never going to forget this night," he says, looking to Joel with a small smile. "What we did, what we're going to do, how you made me feel. How you always make me feel." He brushes his lips over Joel's shoulder, then over the line of his jaw. "I'm not going to forget any of it."