Page 11

Spencer spent the week dealing with roofers at Brown Street so Cat and the crew could work on the flooring at the Tyler project.

He had nothing to do besides be there in case they had any questions, and it was hot, hotter still inside the boarded-up house.

So he was excited when Saturday came around and he didn’t have to drive over for another day of keeping himself entertained in the AC of his car.

He did, however, need to go on this date.

Ian had texted him the night before to ask if six was still okay, and he had said that it was, so it was too late to back out now.

And he did want to go on the date.

Of all the men he’d hooked up with after moving to Pittsfield, no one had intrigued him like Ian did.

No one had asked him out so directly, been so uncomplicatedly interested, maybe ever.

Spencer was definitely anxious, but he felt an ease around Ian that he couldn’t explain and didn’t want to think too hard about.

He still changed his outfit four times and settled on a T-shirt and shorts that were pretty much like all the other T-shirts and shorts he’d tried on, none of which had been gifted to him by his friends or portrayed nineties cultural icons. Norman looked on as though he knew Spencer was being bizarre. “I don’t need any of your judgment, thanks.”

Norman sneezed in response.

Ian rang the doorbell a little before six. Norman always got very excited for the doorbell, so Spencer gave him a treat from the cookie jar and promised to be back. He didn’t add soon because he wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not.

Spencer slipped on his Vans as he headed downstairs. He hoped this would actually be casual instead of what he assumed was Ian’s preppy version of casual. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Ian was smiling more than Spencer had ever seen him smile before, and he was also wearing a T-shirt and shorts and Vejas, so at least Spencer’s outfit wouldn’t make this a disaster. “I parked behind the building. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, definitely. Are we walking?”

Spencer locked his front door and slid on his sunglasses. They had a few more hours of sunlight left for the day this time of year.

“If you don’t mind. It’s just up the street.”

Ian had a pair of Ray-Bans on his head that he pulled down as they stepped into the sun.

“I usually don’t drive unless I have to.”

Spencer pocketed his keys. “Is where we’re going a secret, or can you tell me?”

Ian kept pace casually beside him. “Have you ever been to Dairy Cone?”

Spencer smiled down at his shoes. “A few times last summer. We’re working on a house on Tyler, and Cat took me. She grew up here, too.”

“You’ll have to show me when we pass it. Though I’m sure it’s the nicest house on the block now, so I’ll probably be able to pick it out.”

“I’ll let you guess then before I show you.”

Ian did end up guessing correctly, and Spencer was glad the client had at least let him keep most of the exterior intact so it didn’t stick out for the wrong reasons. Then they joined the longish line outside of Dairy Cone. It was a little hut in a parking lot surrounded by benches, and on a summer Saturday, it was crawling with families trying to keep kids entertained and pairs of teenagers on dates, especially as the heat of the day faded into evening.

“Do you still get the same thing you did when you were a kid?”

Spencer stuck his hands in his pockets and fidgeted with his keys because lines were the most awkward forced social situations. They didn’t even have ice cream to distract them yet.

Ian shook his head and chuckled. “No. Unfortunately at thirty-five, my body doesn’t react well to anything called Blue Goo anymore.”

“I was honestly tempted but definitely too afraid to try that.”

“It’s like inhaling straight sugar, which I adored. My grandparents probably regretted it, but I was not to be denied.”

Spencer tried to imagine little Ian with a sugar high, but he was having trouble seeing anything but the slightly serious man next to him. “Isn’t that what summers are for when you’re a kid? Eating too much ice cream and making mischief?”

Ian gave him a look like maybe he was having an easier time imagining baby Spencer. “Is that what you did with your summers?”

“Mostly.”

Spencer shrugged. “Swam in the pool, went to the beach. Stuck my hands in pretty much any mess I could find.”

“I didn’t much enjoy sticking my hands in messes. Then or now.”

Spencer looked down at his shoes to hide his smile. “I probably could have guessed.”

“Oh?”

Ian asked archly, his face so openly teasing that Spencer forgot for a second that he was nervous at all.

They’d made it up to the window, and Ian ordered a vanilla soft serve dipped in butterscotch, then stepped back for Spencer to order vanilla-chocolate swirl. Ian paid, which was oddly sweet given that Spencer’s ice cream cost three dollars.

A parent and their kids vacated a bench at the perfect time, and they took a seat in the shadow of the building, causing Spencer to put his sunglasses in the chest pocket of his T-shirt and Ian to push his back up into his hair.

“So what brought you to Pittsfield?”

Ian was licking his ice cream cone with a symmetrical diligence that Spencer respected.

He had a canned answer for this. A safe answer that never led to any further questions. But then he remembered Ian curled up on his couch, telling him things that not even his friends knew about, and he felt he owed him a little vulnerability. “I went to school in New York. I was an illustrator, a portraitist.”

Ian nodded. “That makes sense. Your work is really great.”

“Thank you. I made a decent living freelancing after I graduated, and I met a guy.”

Spencer swallowed, but Ian just sat patiently, keeping his ice cream from dripping and waiting for whatever Spencer was going to say next. “We were together for six years. It was . . . bad. I know the right word is abuse, but it’s hard for me to claim that because he never hurt me physically.”

Ian turned toward him slightly, eyes less alarmed than Spencer had been expecting but face definitely serious. Spencer waited for how awkward it was inevitably about to get. “I see people all the time in the ER with bruises and broken bones they can’t explain. And I’m glad that didn’t happen to you. But that doesn’t mean it took any less courage to walk away from what you did.”

Spencer looked down at the pavement. “Thank you.”

He realized his soft serve was in a bad state and did his best to contain it. “I packed a bag and got in my car and came up here thinking I was going to Eat, Pray, Love Mount Greylock.”

Ian sputtered over his ice cream. “How did that go?”

“I lasted half an hour before I found Raj’s café on Google Maps and got the fuck out of there. Haven’t been back since. And on my way to Raj’s, I walked past my building, and it had a for-sale sign on it. I called the number, and I guess I impulse bought it?”

Spencer cringed. He hated telling this part almost as much as he hated talking about his ex, not that he told this story much at all.

“I didn’t realize you owned the building.”

Ian was down to his cone at this point, and Spencer had vanilla and chocolate running down his hand.

“My ex’s family had money. We lived in a brownstone they owned in Brooklyn, so I had saved a decent amount while I lived there. And the building was in pretty bad shape when I got it. But I realize there’s a massive amount of privilege in buying a building in cash.”

“Hey.”

Ian reached for him, then seemed to think better of it and pulled back. “Whatever privilege you experienced, it can still be a bad situation you needed to leave.”

Spencer knew that rationally. “My therapist and I talk about this a lot, but it’s a work in progress. Obviously. The building gave me something to do. I fixed it up a bit myself, but I hit a wall with the plumbing and stuff, so I hired Cat. And the rest is history, I guess.”

“Your apartment is the first job you did together.”

Something in Ian’s voice made Spencer look up at him. For someone so composed, Ian really wore his emotions on his face, and right then his eyes were wide and gentle.

“Yep. And now she’s my best friend.”

Ian seemed to think about that for a moment, his cone pinched between his fingers. “I like that. I mean, not all of it. But that part.”

“Yeah, me, too. I’m glad I ended up here, actually. I don’t know that I believe in destiny or anything, but I was in the right place at the right time.”

Ian balled up the napkin that had been wrapped around his cone in his fist. “Thanks for telling me. I can’t imagine that’s a story you like revisiting.”

It really wasn’t, but for some reason Spencer wasn’t feeling all the shame he usually did when he had to tell someone about it. “Thanks for listening.”

Ian told more stories about visiting his grandparents in the summer as a kid and let Spencer finish his ice cream. Then he went back to the window to buy a water bottle and poured it over their hands so they weren’t sticky messes before they headed for the sidewalk.

“How do you feel about hand-holding?”

Ian asked at the corner.

Spencer honestly couldn’t recall the last time he’d even contemplated it. He vaguely remembered liking it in the past. “I feel good about it.”

Spencer slid his hand into Ian’s, then flinched. “You were asking to hold my hand, right?”

Ian squeezed, a gentle pulse of his strong, slightly dry fingers. “Yes, that’s why I was asking.”

He smiled like he had when he’d picked Spencer up, big and genuine. “Now that we’re full of dairy and sugar, would you like some dinner?”

They ended up down the street at a pizza place, talking about their favorite summer memories until the sun went down. Spencer realized at some point that he had stopped thinking about this as a big, scary date and started enjoying himself, strung along by the easy way Ian asked questions and waited patiently for the answers, the stories he offered in return, the way he smiled like he had nowhere else to be besides this old pizza shop with Spencer.

They walked back to Spencer’s apartment overfull but sated. “I had a nice time,”

Ian said, their hands swinging slightly between them.

“Me, too,”

Spencer responded, realizing that he meant it. He’d said that to a number of men he fully intended to have sex with and never speak to again, but something about Ian’s calming presence was starting to feel addictive. “Thanks for the pizza and ice cream.”

“We can do something more adult next time, but you’ll have to show me what’s good because most of my perspective of Pittsfield is from being ten years old.”

“This was perfect. But I can definitely show you some of my favorite spots next time.”

Well, wasn’t that bold of him. It had been a long time since Spencer had invited someone for a next time.

“That would be nice.”

They stopped outside of Spencer’s door, and he turned toward Ian, waiting to see what he would do. He faced Spencer and squeezed his hand again. “I’d like to kiss you, if that’s okay.”

Spencer tilted his face up. “I’d like that.”

Ian dropped his hand and cupped Spencer’s jaw between his palms before pressing their lips together. It was a little sticky but very sweet, and then Ian dropped his hands to Spencer’s waist and pulled Spencer’s body flush to his before running his tongue over Spencer’s lower lip. Spencer laced his hands around Ian’s neck and opened his mouth, tasting the butterscotch and pepperoni on him. Ian was a careful, thorough kisser, which almost made Spencer laugh, but it also made him a little weak in the knees.

Ian made a small sound at the back of his throat and broke the kiss, resting his forehead on Spencer’s. “How would you feel about me sleeping in your bed again?”

Spencer smiled against Ian’s lips. The date had been fun, but it had also been an emotional hurdle. This? This he could do. “Just sleeping?”

Ian dug his fingers into Spencer’s hips. “What we do is entirely up to you.”

They jogged up the stairs to Spencer’s apartment, but when they got to the landing, Spencer realized they had a bit of a problem. “Sorry, I have to take Norman out one last time tonight. You’re welcome to wait here,”

he said quickly, hoping this wouldn’t cause Ian to change his mind. Usually when he had hookups, he’d leave Norman at Cat’s house. But he honestly hadn’t known what to expect of this date. Maybe, in the back of his mind, leaving Norman at home had been a bit of an out. But Spencer really didn’t want an out right now.

Ian seemed to share none of Spencer’s concern, very patiently standing there on the landing despite the sudden change of plans. “I’m happy to go with you.”

“Oh.”

Spencer didn’t know why that hadn’t occurred to him as an option.

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“Yeah, yes, of course. Let me grab Norman.”

Norman was thrilled to have Ian with them. Despite their earlier intensity, they walked at a leisurely pace around town as Norman smelled all his usual trees and peed on his usual grass, looking back every so often as though he wanted Ian to see certain weeds in sidewalk cracks that were significant to him. Ian held Spencer’s hand and asked questions about Norman’s habits and didn’t once mention what they’d been trying to do before they’d started this errand.

When they got back to Spencer’s apartment, he hung up Norman’s leash and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, hands suddenly empty with nothing to do. Ian stepped tentatively into his space. “Can I touch you?”

he asked without preamble.

Apparently they didn’t need a transition. Spencer wasn’t sure why this was making him so nervous. Rarely was one of his partners so clear about telegraphing their intentions. It was all just sort of assumed. He nodded. “Yeah.”

Ian wrapped his arms around him, pulling their bodies together and kissing him indulgently, and it was suddenly like it had been out on the sidewalk. Spencer felt like things were happening in slow motion—Ian’s hands on his ass pulling him close, his heart thumping against Ian’s chest, Ian’s teeth nipping into his lip like he wanted to devour him.

When they pulled apart, Ian’s eyes were on him, wide and intent, and he had that air of confidence about him that he’d had when he’d asked Spencer on this date, like he knew exactly what he wanted. “Spencer.”

Fuck, the way Ian said his name, breathy and reverent, made his knees buckle. “I’d like to get in your bed. If that’s something you want.”

“I want,”

Spencer managed. His mouth was suddenly very dry.

“I want to strip you naked and make you feel good,”

Ian whispered in his ear.

“Okay,”

Spencer croaked, already imagining how Ian’s confidence would play out once there was no more clothing between them.

Ian laughed, a huff of breath against Spencer’s oversensitive skin. “Okay?”

“I mean, enthusiastically yes.”

Spencer slid his hands under Ian’s shirt. “Is this okay?”

“I’d also like to be naked, if you don’t mind.”

Spencer bit his lip to hold back his moan. Serious Ian was sexy. Playful Ian might be the death of him. He pulled Ian’s shirt over his head. “I’d prefer it, actually.”

They stripped each other between kisses as Ian walked Spencer toward the foot of the bed, exploring each other’s bare skin with their hands. Spencer had spent a lot of time thinking about Ian’s eyes, his smile, the timbre of his voice. Now he was suddenly very aware of the body under all those preppy clothes, and he wanted to touch every inch of it. He brushed his fingers down Ian’s sharp shoulders and collarbones, over the softness of his stomach and around to his ass, where he dug his fingers into Ian’s flesh.

Ian was looking at him like he wanted to consume him. “Tell me what you want.”

Ian had him by the hips and was speaking into his neck as he gently sucked right under Spencer’s jaw.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Spencer clung to Ian in an effort to keep himself upright. He’d been too consumed by his date anxiety to even think about what being with Ian like this would be like. That must be why he so suddenly felt like he was going to float away into the ether.

“You first.”

Spencer closed his eyes to the sensation of Ian’s mouth on him, savoring the want in his voice still ringing in his ears, and heat pooled low in his belly. “I want to suck your cock.”

Ian pulled back, and Spencer opened his eyes. Ian’s mouth was wet and slightly open, and he was flushed down his pale chest. Spencer had seen Ian disheveled before, but never like this. His eyes looked wild with desire. “I want to be inside of you. But your idea first.”

Spencer stifled his laugh in Ian’s collarbone. “Okay.”

He tipped Ian so he was sitting on the end of the bed, then went over to the nightstand to grab lube and condoms before coming back to kneel in front of him.

“Here.”

Ian reached back and grabbed a pillow. “For your knees.”

Spencer repositioned himself. He ran his hands up and down Ian’s thighs, feeling the tiny hairs there against his palms, watching his cock bob in front of his face. He looked up to find Ian watching him reverently. Something about Ian’s eyes on him sent a tingle down his spine. “Do you mind if we use a condom? I haven’t been tested in a while.”

“Not at all.”

Ian reached over to where Spencer had left them. “Whatever makes you feel safe.”

Ian looked like he was going to put it on himself, but Spencer took it from his hand. It was the first time he’d touched Ian’s dick, and he heard Ian suck in a breath at the contact. He looked up again and held Ian’s gaze as he took the tip of his cock into his mouth. Ian’s eyes closed automatically, and his lips parted just a little. Spencer closed his eyes, too, and started sucking him in earnest, bringing one of his hands up to match the movements of his mouth. He moaned.

Spencer didn’t love the taste of latex, but he did love giving head. It made him feel used and powerful in equal measure, knowing that he was at his partner’s feet but also had him in the palm of his hand, whimpering and begging. He loved how full his mouth felt, the weight on his tongue, the stretch of his jaw. He felt the cotton of the pillow beneath his knees and the bite of the floorboards underneath. Ian was making breathy little noises and carding his fingers through Spencer’s hair ever so gently, and every time Spencer looked up, Ian’s eyes were on him, like he couldn’t look away. Fuck, Spencer was really hard. He pulled off and held out his free hand. “Lube?”

Ian reached over and poured some into his palm.

Spencer returned his hand and mouth to Ian, sucking hard as he brought his lubed hand to his own dick and started stroking. He couldn’t control his sounds, and he could feel them vibrating up Ian’s cock. He had no idea which one of them was going to come first, but it didn’t matter at this point.

“Spencer.”

Ian’s whole body went taut, and Spencer felt Ian pulse against his tongue. He kept licking and sucking until he’d exhausted Ian’s orgasm.

Before he could even pull off, Ian wrapped his hands around his biceps and hauled him into his lap, replacing Spencer’s hand with his own. “Fuck.”

Spencer dropped his head to Ian’s shoulder and braced his knees against his hips as Ian’s hand slid up and down his cock. “Just like that, yeah.”

He threaded his fingers into Ian’s hair and pulled as he groaned and came all over Ian’s hand and stomach. In the foggy haze of dopamine, he trailed a finger through the come on Ian’s torso before he realized what had happened and lunged to the nightstand for tissues. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Wait.”

Ian caught him and pulled him back into his lap. “Were you saving all your anxiety for after you came?”

he teased. Then he must have seen something in Spencer’s eyes because his face softened. “Oh. You actually were.”

He tightened his grip on Spencer’s ass so he didn’t slide off the bed. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Spencer’s full weight was on his knees, his come smeared between them, with Ian’s face inches from his. This was maybe the weirdest possible way to have this conversation, but Spencer had yet to find a good way. And he’d already broken the seal of telling Ian about it, so there was no reason to try to hide it. “Uh, my ex . . . He . . .”

He blew out a long breath that ruffled Ian’s already messy hair in a way that would have made him chuckle if they weren’t talking about this. “I realize now that he got off on humiliating me. He said I was too loud, too messy, never getting him off fast or hard enough.”

He pressed his face to Ian’s shoulder, afraid to look him in the eye.

“Does that make it hard for you to enjoy sex now?”

His voice was even, calm, and Spencer hazarded a look at his face, which was tilted down toward him as much as it could be given the circumstances.

Spencer lifted his head because Ian didn’t deserve a neck injury on top of all of this. “I used to love sex. I guess that’s maybe a weird thing to say because obviously sex feels great. But it used to make me feel . . . powerful, you know?”

Now he was just saying shit, and Ian was just sitting there, listening. “And I’m working on learning to enjoy it again. Now, I can usually be in the moment while it’s happening. But then after, sometimes I get overwhelmed.”

Ian bit his bottom lip, looking like he was searching for what to say next, how he wanted to phrase whatever it was. “I know nothing I say is going to change what he did or how you feel. But I wouldn’t have brought you into my lap if I didn’t want you to come on me. I know how bodies work. And I personally can’t think of anything sexier than listening to you enjoy yourself. Especially while your mouth is on me.”

Spencer felt his cheeks heating and fought the urge to bury his face again. But Ian’s eyes were so kind, so generous, and it made him feel just a little bit brave. “I know rationally that not everyone is going to treat me like that. I very much wanted to have sex with you. It was really fucking hot. I just got in my head a bit afterward.”

“You were taught that your pleasure doesn’t matter. That doesn’t just go away.”

He was right, it didn’t.

“It matters to me.”

Spencer blinked. He’d slept with a number of people since his ex who’d believed in reciprocity, who had given as good as they got. But no one had ever said that to him.

“It actually, uh . . .”

Ian blushed all the way down his neck to his chest. Spencer felt a sudden overwhelming need to follow that blush with his lips to its end point. “It really turns me on to know you’re enjoying yourself.”

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, his brain short-circuited. “Well then.”

“You know, in case you wanted to do this again sometime.”

He pressed his laugh to Ian’s neck. “I very much think we should do this again. But maybe now we should shower?”

He felt a distinct peeling sensation when Ian lifted his hand up, and there was still a condom between them somewhere that couldn’t be comfortable for Ian. The only saving grace was that Norman was generally afraid of Spencer’s sex sounds like some dogs were afraid of vacuums, and he was probably hiding in the kitchen.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

They got out of bed and into the shower, kissing and groping more than actually washing themselves off, then tumbled back into bed fully naked. And Ian did end up fucking Spencer, spooned up behind him, whispering in his ear that his moans alone would have made him come if he didn’t feel so perfect.

That was surprisingly easier to clean up, and when they were finally ready to sleep, Spencer called Norman over. He figured he’d take his spot as the littlest spoon, but Norman seemed to have decided which part of the sandwich he was because he stretched out along Ian’s back. Spencer heard Ian sigh contentedly and snuggled in to sleep.