by Dan Wingreen
“Good.”
Spencer pressed his lips together like he was trying not to smile. “Good.”
Their eyes met, and for the first time that night, Spencer held his gaze.
“So! Movies. You said movies, didn’t you? Which is great. Really great. Movies are awesome. And, you know, not vague. Like, um. Because I wasn’t… Hmm. I’m not a…I mean, I don’t… Oh God I haven’t had this conversation since I was nineteen and—” Spencer closed his mouth with a loud click and started wringing his hands. “Don’t say any of that,” he said, his voice so quiet Tim wondered if he even knew he was talking out loud. “That’s so creepy and presumptuous; don’t be that guy.”
Tim smiled. He had no idea what it said about him, but watching Spencer have a minor meltdown over this gave him a sense of peace about his decision to stay. Neither one of them had any idea what they were doing here. They were both floundering in uncharted waters.
Perfect.
“Do you want to pick something out?” Tim asked, only somewhat surprised at how steady his voice was. “Not Die Hard,” he added quickly before Spencer could answer.
“What’s wrong with Die Hard?” Spencer asked. It was clearly an automatic response out of his mouth almost before Tim had finished speaking. Tim smothered a laugh as he realized there was only one way to answer.
“I don’t really feel like watching a Christmas movie right now.”
Spencer stared at Tim like he was Christmas.
“Fuck,” he said softly. “I…” He shook his head and laughed. “Never mind. Okay. But our non-Christmas DVD collection is pretty much exclusively anime, BBC shows, and Harrison Ford movies, so you might regret limiting your choices.”
The way he smirked and cocked an eyebrow was so Spencer, and Tim had to fight not to start grinning like an idiot.
Uncharted waters or not, he’s still the same guy who sent me fifty-seven pictures of the same We Rate Dogs tweet because I teased him for accidentally sending it twice. Which means I don’t have to be anything other than Tim.
“Maybe I should pick.”
“If you insist.” Spencer’s serene smile barely got its legs under it before being swept aside by a slightly worried frown. “Anything other than Kingdom of the Crystal Skull!”
Which pretty much guaranteed they wouldn’t be watching anything else.
They sat together on the couch, Spencer curled up in the corner and, after a moment of hesitation, Tim sitting just close enough for their legs to touch. Spencer gave the spot where his knee pressed against Tim’s thigh a soft smile before clearing his throat and starting the movie. Night had fully fallen, leaving the living room in pitch darkness, the only light coming from the TV or sneaking in the entryway from the kitchen down the hall. The dim lighting created an intimate atmosphere despite the candy wrappers all over the floor, and the lump in the corner suspiciously resembling dirty laundry.
Tim smiled to himself, enjoying the tense anticipatory feeling that always came with new relationships. Not that this was a relationship. Not yet. Tim hadn’t jumped the gun so badly since he’d first started dating, and he wasn’t about to start again now. This wasn’t even a date really. It was more like a feeling out process. A way to find out if what they were feeling would be enough to push them beyond friendship and into something more. The idea should have scared Tim, but no matter how much he poked and prodded his feelings and no matter how many doomsday scenarios he thought up, it was impossible to be anything other than excited. For the first time since Rudy, he could picture someone else filling the empty hole in his future.
They managed to last almost ten minutes before Spencer started ripping the movie apart.
“Gunpowder didn’t have any metal in nineteen fifty-seven. It wouldn’t be attracted to magnetic aliens.”
“If you pull off the bottom of a shotgun shell, there’s gunpowder, not pellets.”
“Jesus Christ, those soldiers have metal guns. They should be sticking to the box with the magnetic alien they’re carrying.”
“Oh, my God. I’m not even getting into everything that’s wrong with that fucking refrigerator.”
There wasn’t much that could drive Tim to violence. Talking during a movie? Never failed to make him want to punch somebody in the throat.
So, of course, he found it completely charming when Spencer did it.
He even broke his own movie rules and started talking back. Not just about the movie, which was pretty close to sacrilege already, but about their personal lives as well, and somewhere between when “I can’t believe you made me watch this” turned into “shut up, this is the best part,” Tim learned more about Spencer in softly murmured conversation than he had during their entire friendship. Everything from his favorite movie (“Empire Strikes Back, of course. How is this even a question?”) to his favorite childhood memory (“My mom hired someone to dress up as a Ninja Turtle for my fifth birthday. I was the coolest kid in kindergarten for like a week.”). How he could afford his house (“My parents bought it for us. Single guy with a kid on a teacher’s salary living in the city? No way I’d be this far away from murder central without help.”) to even his utter indifference to bacon (“I mean, yeah, it’s tasty, but I don’t see why people get so crazy about it. Did you know they sell bacon-scented soap? It’s insane. Now, if we’re talking about dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, on the other hand…”).
In turn, Tim shared parts of himself he’d almost never spoken of. Not because they were too personal or he was keeping some great secret, but because before Spencer, no one had really cared enough to ask. Most of his early relationships were, he was embarrassed to admit, mostly physical; they were more about making out after school and seeing how far he could get before his parents got home than any kind of big emotional commitment. His attitude toward relationships hadn’t changed much during his first year of college when most of the gay freshmen were exploring their sexuality for the first time, and Tim’s high-school experience-born confidence and easygoing personality drew more than his fair share of admirers. Not that he was a slut about it even back then, and he was always, always safe on the rare occasions his “dates” moved past mutual blowjobs and into full-on sex, but it had still been easier than it probably should have to get someone into bed. Even when he’d finally started dating for real, most of the guys he ended up with weren’t big on long personal conversations—not about Tim, at least. Something Tim had realized recently he was ashamed of more than his early sexcapades was, even before Rudy, he tended to end up in relationships with people who took a lot more than they gave emotionally. Having someone he liked showing interest in the little bits of his life was a brand-new experience, and it was just as exhilarating as the first time he’d ever kissed another boy.
So, he told Spencer all about his favorite teacher. You mean besides you? No, don’t say that. You can’t pull off a line like that right now. (“Third grade, Mrs. Jergensen. She used to bring in mountains of cupcakes every time someone in class had a birthday. I didn’t realize until years later that she was buying them all from my mom.”). His least favorite movie (“Black Hawk Down. The most boring two hours and twenty minutes of my life. All they do is run and yell and shoot. For the whole movie.”), and his first and only experience at a concert (“It was for some local band I went to see with a few people from high school. They were playing in this tiny little all-ages club, and I inhaled so much secondhand pot smoke I was almost floating home. I got about two steps in our apartment and threw up all over the carpet. My mom grounded me for two months and made me clean it up with a toothbrush. Since then I’ve never really had any desire to give live music another try.”).
Things eventually quieted between them, their soft conversation trailing off into a few whispered sentences here and there, until it finally stopped altogether right around the time Shia started swinging through the Amazon on computer-generated vines. Tim found himself getting caught up in the movie despite how silly it was. He’d spent his childhood wat
ching Indiana Jones. It was one of the few movie franchises he and his dad both liked, and he still fondly remembered when they’d gone together to see a midnight showing of Crystal Skull when it came out. He didn’t have many father-son-bonding memories, so he’d always have a soft spot for the movie, no matter how dumb parts of it were. And despite all the complaining, he was happy he could share it with Spencer too.
It wasn’t until the credits started rolling and he began searching for the remote that he realized Spencer had fallen asleep.
He’d moved closer during the movie, curling toward Tim now instead of tucked away in the corner of the couch. His head wasn’t quite resting on Tim’s shoulder, but there couldn’t be more than three inches between them. Spencer’s curls were a mess, sticking up wildly in the back where they were smushed up against the couch. His breath came in the long, loud drags of the deeply asleep, punctuated every few seconds with tiny, hardly audible snores. His lips barely parted, and his face so soft and relaxed he seemed almost too young.
Tim had never really been attracted to cute. He’d always liked guys who were confident and assertive; cute too often tended to be timid as well. Tim’s type leaned more toward tall and willowy with sharp features and easy self-assured grins. They were usually the kind of guys who had no problem telling Tim what they wanted. Tim liked that. He liked not having to guess. He liked knowing exactly what someone needed, and he liked being the one who could provide it.
So, he had absolutely no idea why Spencer, at his most adorable, was the single most attractive thing he’d ever seen.
It wasn’t just his cuteness that Tim was drawn to either. It was everything about Spencer that shouldn’t make sense. It was the way he seemed to flit back and forth between desperately needing to be taken care of and being almost painfully self-reliant. It was the way crippling shyness could turn into caustic sass in the blink of an eye. It was the way he could have absolutely no confidence in himself, yet still act and know exactly what to do when Connor needed him. It was the way Tim could so easily see Spencer turning that same level of caring toward him. It was the way he knew, on some level, Spencer would never try to take more than Tim could give.
“When did all this happen?” Tim murmured to himself.
He regretted speaking a moment later when Spencer jerked awake with a loud snort.
“Wha’?” Spencer slurred, blinking rapidly and staring at the tail end of the movie’s credits in sleepy confusion.
“You fell asleep,” Tim said quietly.
“I did?”
“Yep.”
Spencer blinked again and then rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. “Huh.” He seemed like he might have been about to say something else, but before he could, he turned his head toward Tim and suddenly stilled. It took Tim a few seconds to realize he was staring at his shoulder, a faint blush of his cheeks barely visible in the light from the TV.
“Um.” Spencer swallowed. “I’m sorry if I fell asleep on you.”
“You didn’t.” Tim hesitated and then, feeling bold, added, “But I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”
“Shit,” Spencer whispered, rubbing his cheeks.
“What?”
“Oh God, nothing,” Spencer said with a laugh. “That was just…really fucking suave.”
“You think?” Tim asked, smiling slightly.
“Yeah.” Spencer flashed a smile of his own and shook his head. “This is so weird.”
“Is it?”
“No. And that’s why it’s weird. Because it should be, you know? Do you… Oh, God, I’m gonna sound so fucking high school when I ask this, but you do…like me, right?”
“Yes,” Tim answered. He didn’t even bother trying to hide how charmed he was by the way Spencer asked.
“Right,” Spencer said, his blush deepening. “Okay. Good. Um. I like you too. But that’s why it’s so weird, you know? I wasn’t even gonna say anything because I haven’t dated since the iPhone came out, and you’re about a million years younger than me and so far out of what my league was when I still had a league I figured the best reaction I’d get is if all you did was laugh at me.”
“You don’t really think that, do you?” Tim asked, frowning.
“Think what? I mean, yes. But, what specifically?”
“That I’m out of your league?”
“Of course.” Spencer said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Tim’s frown deepened.
“I’m not anything special.”
Sure, Tim was decent looking, and he knew what kinds of clothes and hairstyles went well with his body and face, but there were a million guys who were a lot more attractive than him. Single dad or not, Tim would be surprised if he was the hottest guy who had ever shown interest in Spencer.
“You like kids,” Spencer said flatly. “You like my kid. You like my jokes. You don’t get annoyed when I text you all day. You went out of your way to get me and Connor to stop fighting. You don’t hold it against me when I say something stupid and insulting. Jesus Christ, Tim, I could keep going if you want?”
“No, please don’t.” Tim glanced away, part of him feeling more than a bit guilty he’d assumed Spencer was being shallow and talking about his appearance. The rest of him was too busy being awed at the things Spencer saw in him. Too often Tim looked at himself and saw nothing but his failures and flaws. It was beyond nice to know with certainty that someone—that Spencer—saw more. “That’s…not all there is to me though.”
“Of course not. But that’s shit I’ll find out later. That’s what dating is for. Or so I’ve been led to believe.” Spencer’s lips twitched. “I can’t even believe I just said that, but that’s my whole point. All of…this—” He gestured between them. “—should be really weird or feel forced or something. But it’s not. I feel…” He let out a small laugh. “This is going to sound so lame, but I feel right. You know?”
Tim nodded slowly. Tonight had felt less…fraught, he supposed would be a good word, than he might have expected. Aside from a bit of awkwardness in the beginning, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable with another person.
“Yeah,” Spencer went on. “Definitely not what I was expecting when I asked you to stay. So…I guess what I’m trying to say is, I have absolutely no idea what to do now.”
A thought popped into Tim’s head then. One that was reckless and brash and a whole bunch of other things Tim hadn’t been in a long time. Common sense told him to ignore the thought, but Tim wasn’t listening. He was too giddy, riding high on the endless possibilities that seemed to stretch out in front of him and too weak with relief at reconnecting with a part of who he had been before life and bad relationships ground him down into who he was. So, instead, he acted on his thought.
And kissed Spencer.
The kiss lasted a second, maybe two, but it was the first time in almost half a year Tim had had any kind of intimate contact with another person, and even if Spencer had been exaggerating about how long he’d been single, he could tell Spencer’s dry spell had lasted much longer than his. When he pulled back, Spencer stayed completely still, staring at Tim, his wide eyes shining with awe and confusion and bright vulnerability.
“That’s what we can do now,” Tim said, his voice soft.
“Um.” Spencer licked his lips. It was only when he started to repeat the action that his cheeks began to flush again. “I meant…you know, like ‘where do we go from here.’ Like do we…go on a date or…what do we do tomorrow. Not…you know, literally right now.” He cleared his throat and glanced away. Then, quietly, he said, “But that was nice too.”
This time, Tim didn’t even think. “Can I do it again?”
Spencer nodded rapidly.
Tim grinned.
Their second kiss was slower than the first, enough for Tim to perfectly catalog every single new sensation. Spencer’s lips were plump but chapped. He kissed hesitantly, closed mouthed like someone who had never been kissed before, and for som
e reason, that set Tim’s blood on fire. Without thinking he gave in to the temptation he’d been fighting all day and touched Spencer’s face, his fingertips trailing slowly down impossibly soft cheeks and gently caressing the slightly rougher skin of his jaw where tiny hints of stubble were just starting to grow back. He reveled in the differing sensations and deepened their kiss, mildly surprised when Spencer met him eagerly, opening his mouth the moment Tim’s tongue brushed lightly across his lips.
They made out like teenagers for what seemed like forever. Tim never tried to take things any further even though he was so turned on a stiff breeze outside would have been enough to fully complete the teenage experience and make him come in his pants. It would have felt wrong to do more than kiss. For all his eagerness, Spencer still felt like a tightly coiled spring against Tim’s chest. His hands clutched at Tim’s shoulders desperately, like he was scared what might happen if he let go.
Tim wanted more. God did he want more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been aroused enough to even think about jerking off. His brain seemed to be making up for lost time by painting vivid pictures of all the filthy things he could do to Spencer, or on Spencer, or in Spencer. But the last thing he wanted was to pressure Spencer into doing anything he wasn’t ready for. It was a miracle they hadn’t already ruined their friendship, and he wasn’t going to be responsible for ruining the fragile thing their friendship had only barely begun evolving into.
Eventually their kisses slowed and then stopped altogether. Spencer panted heavily into Tim’s mouth, and when he pulled back, Spencer actually whined before dropping his forehead onto Tim’s chest.
“Fuck me…” Spencer breathed out.
Tim stilled. Then, after a long moment, so did Spencer.
Is he…?
“That was a figure of speech,” Spencer said slowly.
“Got it,” Tim said.
They relaxed simultaneously.
“Where did you learn to kiss?” Spencer asked a few minutes later, turning his head so his cheek was resting right over Tim’s heart. He wondered if Spencer could hear how rapidly it was beating.
