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Spencer always kept Norman on a leash outside of the apartment because he was a responsible dog owner. But it was sort of an absurd exercise because Norman would never get more than a dozen feet from him, more often than not preferring to walk right next to Spencer and bask in the praise he received for being a very good boy.

Once Ian started walking with them with some regularity, Norman would periodically decide that he would prefer Ian to hold the leash, which he made clear by sitting perfectly still on the sidewalk next to the front door until Spencer handed the leash over to Ian, at which point Norman would trot off on his normal walking route like all was right with the world.

“One of those days, huh, bud?”

Spencer smiled sympathetically as he relinquished the leash to Ian, who never seemed to mind either way. It was starting to get cold at night, so he was wearing a windbreaker and suede boots with his chinos. Spencer would probably just wear the same denim jacket until he died, but if Ian wanted to spend all his money at J.Crew, that was his business.

“There was a new guy at the paint counter today.”

“Oh?”

Ian threaded their fingers together as they headed up North Street to Norman’s first peeing tree.

“He, uh, he gave me his number.”

Spencer fidgeted a little.

Ian squeezed his hand once, looking down at him in the halo of the streetlight as they paused to wait for Norman. “Did he make you feel uncomfortable?”

“What? No. It was nice.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Spencer dropped his voice into a whisper even though the few people around them on the sidewalk weren’t really paying them any attention. “It’s just . . . Does it ever bother you that I pursue these things when you . . . don’t? Or haven’t? Or, I don’t know.”

“Spencer.”

Ian used their conjoined hands to pull Spencer flush to his side. “I don’t think it has to be a tit-for-tat sort of arrangement. We’re not keeping score.”

“No, I didn’t think you were.”

They started walking again as Norman moved toward his next sniffing spot.

“You like it, right? The flirting and the dates? Getting to know someone that way?”

Spencer looked down at the sidewalk beneath his boots. “Yeah, I do.”

He looked up to find Ian nodding. “For me, it’s harder to decide I’m attracted to someone that way. I need . . . I don’t know. Something else?”

It suddenly occurred to Spencer that he’d never seen Ian flirt in the traditional sense of the word.

“Like when I first met you. I knew you were beautiful the second I opened the door. But it wasn’t until you were describing turn-of-the-century kitchen design to me that I knew I was attracted to you.”

Spencer cocked an eyebrow. “I turned you on with kitchen layouts?”

Ian chuckled. “I guess you did.”

Spencer contemplated that quietly.

“Speaking of . . . all of this, I’m going to a medical conference in Boston next month. And there’s going to be someone there I find . . . attractive. I may sleep with him, if that’s okay with you.”

They’d made it to the park, where Norman liked to sniff around a stream and inevitably get his paws muddy. “Someone you’ve slept with before?”

“No. A friend of a friend, distantly. He’ll be there presenting a paper on emergency-room-procedure checklists.”

Spencer’s mouth fell open. “Ian, do you have a competence kink?”

Ian tilted his head to the side. “I’ve never thought about it, but I suppose I do.”

Spencer could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Are you going to compliment Dr. Hottie’s paper and invite him up to your hotel room?”

He wasn’t sure why that prospect was so entertaining to him.

Ian shifted the leash to his other hand so Norman could get closer to whatever he was looking at. “Should I be offended that I’m not Dr. Hottie in this situation?”

“No!”

Spencer wrapped his hand around Ian’s elbow, pressing his cheek to his shoulder. “I just already know your name. And I guess when you’re here, with me, I don’t think about you as a big, important, lifesaving doctor. I just think of you as my Ian.”

He paused, listening to his own words leave his mouth. “I mean Ian, who is an independent individual with agency,”

he said quickly.

Spencer could hear Ian chuckling above him and then feel him press a kiss to the top of his head. “I think here, I like being your Ian.”

“Okay,”

Spencer squeaked, and Ian laughed.

“His name is Nate. And I’ll probably compliment his paper, but I’m happy to go back to his room if he prefers. If he’s interested at all and you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

“Baby, of course I want that for you. Just like you always want it for me.”

Spencer kissed the back of Ian’s hand. “And there’s no way he won’t be interested. You’re perfect.”

“I think you might be slightly biased.”

Norman took that moment to fling himself bodily into the stream, and Ian tugged a little on the leash. “Looks like maybe it’s time to head back.”

Norman shook himself out, spraying them both in muddy water. He looked inordinately pleased with himself.

———

Spencer had thought a number of times, since they’d agreed to be nonmonogamous, about how he’d feel knowing Ian was sleeping with someone else. Would he be jealous? Angry? Generally indifferent? Every time he’d come up empty. None of those feelings struck him as the right one.

Ian had texted Spencer when he’d gotten to the hotel, and a few times throughout the day between presentations. Spencer had had dinner at Cat’s house after a day of meetings with the city to talk about whether they were ever going to be able to buy that house on Plunkett, and he was exhausted when he finally got home and took Norman out one last time before collapsing in bed in his underwear. He checked his phone as he plugged it in and realized he’d missed a text from Ian a few hours earlier saying he was headed to the welcome mixer and he hoped Spencer had a good night.

Spencer wondered idly if Ian would talk to Nate at the mixer. He pictured the way Ian’s face looked when he wanted something, the calm intensity in his eyes that had drawn Spencer in, and he wondered if anyone could resist that look. Spencer certainly couldn’t.

He realized rather suddenly that he was getting hard. Huh. That was not a reaction he had expected. He looked around his apartment as though someone would be there to tell him whether this was a reasonable response to the idea of his boyfriend hitting on someone else. Norman didn’t offer any help.

He felt oddly guilty. But then he realized that it wasn’t like he was spying on them from inside the closet or something creepy. This was happening inside his own brain, and his fantasies were his business. No one else had to know. He palmed himself over his boxer briefs and whimpered a little.

“Fuck it,”

he muttered, kicking his underwear off and tossing them toward the hamper. Then he reached for the nightstand and got the lube. If he was going to do it, he might as well really do it.

Spencer slicked up his hand and wrapped it around his cock. He closed his eyes and licked his lips. Fantasy Ian was still talking to Nate at the hotel bar. Nate existed in Spencer’s mind as an attractive blur. He had no idea what Ian’s type was beyond vaguely informed about niche topics, so he couldn’t really guess at what Nate looked like.

He imagined Ian leaning in and saying something in Nate’s ear, something simple and straightforward that would cause Nate to leave his half-finished drink on the nearest table and lead Ian over the elevators and up to . . . his room? Ian’s room? Didn’t matter.

When they got up there, they’d turn on a lamp, maybe the bathroom light. Ian would push Nate up against the door and kiss him in that intoxicating, thorough way of his. Spencer’s hand sped up, and he moaned.

They’d shed boring professional clothes on the floor, hands grabbing at each other. Ian would ask what Nate liked. If Nate was particular, Ian would give him exactly what he wanted, Spencer knew. But maybe Nate would leave it up to Ian. What would Ian want from a hookup?

Spencer was getting close, and he had no way of knowing all the details, but he imagined Ian lying over Nate, chest to chest, fucking him with all the careful attention he’d always shown Spencer, skin glistening with sweat, and—

“Fuck.”

Spencer’s eyes flew open as he realized he was in his own apartment, and his hand and stomach were covered in his own come, and this was maybe a very weird thing he’d just done.

He went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up, then flopped back into bed and waited for Norman to decide it was time to sleep. “It’s been kind of a strange year, huh, bud?”

Norman snorted and kicked him in the spleen.

———

Spencer was sitting on the couch with Norman scrolling the internet on his phone when he heard the front door unlock, and Norman crushed all his internal organs trying to get to the door. A few seconds later, Ian came in, divested of his winter clothes but with snow still stuck in his hair and eyelashes.

“Hey, baby, you’re early.”

Spencer met him halfway across the room and wrapped his arms around him. “Fuck, you’re cold.”

“I didn’t go home first.”

Ian leaned down to kiss him, his lips like ice. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Spencer headed to the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee? Tea? I might have some cocoa in here somewhere.”

Ian caught up to him and pulled Spencer to his chest and kissed him like that was the only thing he wanted. But then he leaned back and said, “Coffee would be nice, thanks.”

Usually Ian stayed well out of the way while Spencer was dealing with the Chemex, but instead he pressed his chest to Spencer’s back and trailed cold kisses up his neck.

“Was Boston that bad?”

He could feel Ian’s laugh in his ear. “No, it just didn’t have you in it.”

They brought their coffees to the couch, and Ian pulled Spencer into his lap. “I also wanted to check in about how you felt about Nate.”

Spencer hazarded a glance up at Ian, then looked down at his coffee. He could feel the blush rising to his cheeks, and he wasn’t sure how much he really wanted to admit about what effect the idea of Ian and Nate had had on him. But when he looked back up at Ian, his brows were pinched together like he was concerned that Spencer was upset, and that was the absolute last thing Spencer wanted, so he blurted, “I may have made myself come the other night thinking about you and Nate.”

He bit his lip, unsure of whether that was a humiliating confession that was going to scandalize Ian.

Ian’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh?”

He didn’t sound scandalized at all.

Spencer melted. “Fuck, Ian.”

He pressed his face to Ian’s chest.

“What’s wrong?”

Concern crept into Ian’s voice, and he put his mug on the coffee table to pull Spencer to him with both hands.

Spencer put his mug down next to Ian’s and turned, straddling Ian’s hips with his knees. Ian looked momentarily surprised, but he rested his hands on Spencer’s hips and looked up at him intently, listening. “I’m not going to say you fixed me because that’s not how shit works. But you came in here and gave me all the space to feel all my stupid feelings and to build this relationship the way I didn’t even know I wanted, and I’m just so fucking in love with you.”

Ian burst out laughing, which would not have been on Spencer’s list of possible responses if he had bothered to come up with one. But then, in his most tender voice, he said, “Spencer,”

and pulled Spencer even tighter against him. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

He pressed a soft kiss to Spencer’s lips. “When we met, I was pretty untethered. And you were the softest possible place to land, taking care of me when I wasn’t even sure how to take care of myself. You made me part of a whole family full of people who welcomed me. You’re literally making me a home.”

“Fuck.”

Spencer took Ian’s face between his hands and kissed him hard, like pinning him there to the couch meant he was never going to be able to get up and leave. But Ian didn’t want to leave. He wanted Spencer, however Spencer wanted to be, and that was maybe the most overwhelming thing in the world, but also maybe the best.

They kissed until Norman started whining. “Oh my god, you big baby.”

Spencer leaned back, which Norman took as an invitation to lick Ian’s face.

Ian petted behind his ears in a way that made it look like he didn’t want Norman to hear what he was going to say next. He smiled up a Spencer. “You should go get in bed.”

“Okay,”

Spencer said hesitantly, as though he wasn’t fully on board for anything Ian wanted to do. But he hopped off his lap and started stripping off his clothes almost immediately.

Ian went to the kitchen and gave Norman a treat from the cookie jar before coming to stand at the end of the bed and slowly unbuttoning his pants. “Now.”

His smile turned teasing, and he lost the rest of his clothes before coming up to lie next to Spencer. “Are you going to tell me about this fantasy you had about me and Nate?”

Spencer rolled over so he was half on top of Ian and followed the curve of his ear with his tongue. “Only if you tell me about the reality.”

Ian grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed. “Deal.”