by J P Barnaby
A pain shot up his neck and into the back of his skull when he rolled to the side of the bed. Damn it. He did not need a headache today, not when he had a job interview—for a job he hadn’t even applied for. Which meant he already had an advantage; they’d come to him. The pain subsided to a dull ache, and he headed into the bathroom for a shower. He’d grab something to eat and then check and see if Aaron had made any more code changes to their new web interface for Spaaron.
The kitchen was deserted when he went down to make something to eat. His father had either not come home from his date yet—go Dad—or was still asleep upstairs. Looking through the inventory of the refrigerator and freezer, Spencer decided on pizza rolls. They were quick, and he had them at least a couple days a week. At some point, he realized, he would have to grow up and learn how to cook, but he didn’t need to make it a priority right then. While the oven heated, he checked his Facebook and Twitter accounts from the phone. Nothing of real importance, but he did like the activity on the Spaaron Twitter account. It had been tagged about twenty times the day before. That meant people were talking about it.
The oven temperature flashed, indicating it had come up to temperature, so he popped the cookie sheet containing his breakfast onto the rack and closed the door. Noting the time, he added ten minutes and went back to scrolling through his social media. Nell had posted the same video on her Facebook page that she’d e-mailed him. He felt too on edge to watch it right then but promised himself he would once the interview ended. Unable to stay still while he waited for the pizza rolls to heat, he switched back to his e-mail and saw a return e-mail from his aunt. She’d sent him a list of things to keep in mind while he interviewed, which he appreciated.
While his pizza rolls sat for a minute, he went to the refrigerator and snatched a diet soda from the rack on the bottom. Cold carbonation and hot melted cheese, what on earth could be better than that? Well, except heating them in his own apartment with Aaron by his side, maybe.
With a sigh, he used a spatula to scrape them onto a paper plate, grabbed a paper towel from the roll, and headed back upstairs to his room. As he sat at his desk, enjoying his teenage delicacy, he tried to decide what to wear for the Skype session. Would he look like a dork if he wore a suit? After all, they’d come to him, not the other way around. He didn’t want to wear a T-shirt either, because he did want to make a good impression. Instead, he decided on a hunter green polo and jeans, which Eric wouldn’t see. He still had about forty-five minutes before he had to log on, so he continued popping the pizza rolls into his mouth and spun in his chair to Google the company who had approached him so he’d be ready.
At precisely 8:55 a.m., he logged on to Skype and accepted Eric Stancel’s request to add him to his contact list. A quick check of his LinkedIn page had confirmed that the guy was thirty-two and had worked for Voyager Tech his entire career, which, if he started just out of college, would be about ten years. Within seconds, a box popped up notifying him that he had an incoming video call. He took a deep breath and pressed the green button to answer.
Showtime.
It took several seconds for the call to connect, but then Spencer sat, virtually face to face with Eric Stancel. He was more handsome than his LinkedIn profile picture, with short brown hair combed back off a high forehead and black square-framed glasses, a short, well-kept goatee, and a dark gray T-shirt. Spencer could see nothing of his office except a plain cream-colored wall and the top of a high-backed ergonomic chair, but what he really liked was the earring in Eric’s left ear and his quirky smile. Nervous as he was, he could definitely use a laid-back kind of guy who seemed quick to smile. Eric looked away from the camera for a moment, and a message popped up on Spencer’s screen.
[Eric] Hi, Spencer, it’s nice to meet you.
And they were off.
[Spencer] Hello. It is nice to “meet” you too. I am sorry about not being able to talk on the phone.
[Eric] That isn’t a problem at all. You and your partner show real creativity in your design. We will be able to work around whatever you need.
[Spencer] I do not think you are going to get Aaron to work for you. He wants to finish his degree.
[Eric] You don’t have to be a packaged set. What do you want, Spencer?
[Spencer] I had planned to finish my BS before looking for a job, but I am intrigued by your e-mail.
[Eric] We have a tuition reimbursement program. After working here for a year, we reimburse work-related courses like programming, business, technical writing, etc.
[Spencer] That sounds great. What exactly are you looking for?
[Eric] We had been looking for a comprehensive social media solution for a client, and I ran across Spaaron. While I licensed it for their purpose, I wanted to talk to you about it because I think, with a little expansion, we can leverage its simplicity and power for other clients.
[Spencer] What does that entail?
[Eric] Well, ideally, we’d like to buy the software from you and your partner and bring you in to get the team up to speed with your design and work so far. You and/or Aaron would be the technical leads on the project as we tailored it to bring it to market.
[Spencer] I will be honest. I do not know what kind of management skills I would have to be able to lead a project like that.
[Eric] I get that. You’re 21 and still in college. That’s why you would work directly with me and just be responsible for coding modules and reviewing code other programmers write to integrate with yours. As you grow in the position, you will get other responsibilities. We see it as a long-term project, and you’ll get great experience from it.
[Spencer] Just a ballpark, what are we talking in terms of numbers?
[Eric] I know Gary Parks, head of Voyager, is talking mid six figures for the software. Entry-level programmers are generally coming into the company at $55k, but since you’ll be a technical lead, I’d guess it at more like $70k.
Stunned, Spencer could only sit and look at Eric for a long moment. They wanted to pay mid six figures for Spaaron. Mid. That meant like half a million, right? Split evenly between him and Aaron. Jesus. Plus they wanted to pay him seventy thousand dollars a year to be a technical lead on his own software as they fit it for client use? He would get unbelievable experience for his resume and enough money to move out of his father’s house and be on his own. God, there had to be a catch.
[Spencer] I am definitely interested. Where do we go from here?
[Eric] We can Skype with Gary in a few days, after he has the contracts drawn up. Talk to your partner and see if he is interested, both in selling the software and in the job. I would also start looking for an apartment. I can’t wait to have you on board!
A pain sliced across Spencer’s chest as he imagined the look on Aaron’s face when he told him he’d have to move.
[Spencer] Why an apartment? I was thinking about commuting.
[Eric] We work some long hours sometimes, and you’re about an hour and a half from here if you drove. That’s not something you’re going to want to do every day. Trust me on this. I used to make that kind of commute. It’s one of the reasons I’m now divorced.
[Spencer] Oh.
[Eric] I have a 10:00, so go ahead and shoot me an e-mail this afternoon if you want to move forward and set up that meeting with Gary.
[Spencer] Okay, I’ll e-mail you this afternoon.
[Eric] Great chat. I look forward to working with you.
[Spencer] Thanks, me too.
Spencer disconnected the chat, making sure to quit Skype before putting his head in his hands. He’d found the catch. Taking the job meant leaving Aaron. He had no idea if he could.
Four
SPENCER REFILLED Aaron’s pilsner again, watching the unfocused gaze in the crystal blue eyes he loved so much. Aaron didn’t let his guard down often, not often at all, but when he did, the effect staggered Spencer. He imagined that this Aaron, the smiling, carefree Aaron, was the boy he’d been before his world became hor
rifically altered. More and more often, Spencer had started to wonder who that guy was and how their relationship might have been different if Aaron’s attack had never happened. But, just like Spencer’s deafness, it did happen, and they both had to work with what they had.
Hence the beer.
Spencer took full advantage of his father’s St. Louis conference to bring home beer with their dinner. Not much for alcohol even before his father started going to AA, Spencer never brought anything into the house since his father quit drinking. It seemed like taunting him to drink in the house. But last week he and Aaron had talked about how maybe alcohol could help Aaron loosen up when they made out. They agreed that they wouldn’t take it any further than oral, and maybe not even that far, but Aaron wanted to try. So they decided Aaron would bring the tacos, Spencer would bring the beer, and they’d see what happened from there.
The tacos Aaron had brought were far beyond anything Spencer or his father could have whipped up in their expensive kitchen. The subtle spices infused into the pork from hours of slow cooking made him wish his stomach were bigger so he could keep eating. Instead, he took another drink of his beer and smiled as Aaron did the same. Spencer wondered if this was what living with Aaron would be like one day. In a place he never dared imagine while sober, he saw their small apartment decked out with a server rack next to a few of Spencer’s original Battlestar Galactica posters. For a moment, he thought about pictures of Aaron and him on a shelf in the living room before he remembered why it could never happen. Aaron would never ever allow him to take their picture for display. He barely let Spencer take a few candids on the phone because of his scars. There wouldn’t be pictures of them together on any shelf, especially a shelf in their own place. Aaron’s emotional and physical damage stood like a wall between them and their future. It seemed to grow instead of shrink with each passing year.
A small piece of diced tomato smacked his cheek, and Spencer looked up, startled. Aaron was laughing, head thrown back, laughing, and Spencer just stared. He’d never seen anything so fucking beautiful in his life. Without stopping to think about how he felt or how Aaron would react, he launched himself out of his chair and moved with surprising speed around to the other side of the table. Reason overrode the beer in his system, and he remembered just in time not to crawl in Aaron’s lap. Instead, he captured his boyfriend’s face between his palms and kissed him for all he was worth. Spencer pulled back and saw, not the fear he expected, but heat and love. He took Aaron’s hand, pulling him off the chair and into the rec room.
“Am I in trouble?” Aaron signed with a wicked smirk Spencer didn’t get to see often on his sweet face.
“Do you want to be?” Spencer asked with a tender smile of his own. His knees hit the edge of the couch, and he fell onto the leather cushion with a huff, forgetting everything when Aaron followed him down and straddled his lap. Spencer could feel his heart pounding in his chest with the sweet touch of Aaron’s hands on his face. He moved them just long enough to sign to Spencer.
“I just want to be with you.”
Aaron’s lips covered his before he could think, and the warm rush of breath over his skin made it tingle—or maybe it was the beer. God, it didn’t matter. He could not get enough of Aaron, who tasted like spice and barley and pure fucking happiness. Barely touching Aaron, Spencer wrapped loose arms low around his lover’s hips. Over the last few years, since they’d started dating, Spencer had learned never to restrain Aaron in any way, and that included a loving embrace. But he did what he needed to in order to have Aaron in his life. Heaven was found in Aaron’s arms.
The roll of Aaron’s hips, grinding their hardening cocks together through layers of denim, surprised Spencer. Even during the few times they’d been intimate with each other, Spencer had always taken the lead. Aaron never initiated, and hope reared its ugly head in Spencer’s heart. He’d had only his hand for company for a really long time.
Sliding sideways on the couch, Spencer watched Aaron’s face for any signs that he wanted to stop. By the time his back hit the cushions and Aaron lay sprawled on top of him, he’d convinced himself he’d found none. They wouldn’t have sex, he knew that, but maybe since Aaron had initiated things, Spencer wouldn’t have to hold a crying Aaron while he forgot about his throbbing cock.
Aaron fumbled with Spencer’s fly even as their kisses heated to an almost intolerable level. Each subsequent button popping made Spencer’s heart race faster until a soft, tentative hand reached inside and cupped his dick. He felt the moan scratch his throat on the way out and kissed Aaron harder. Aaron’s touch felt so different than his own—shy and unsure.
A quick flash of panic crossed Aaron’s face before he let go of Spencer’s cock and reached for his own jeans. It took a moment with shaking hands to open the button and pull down the zipper, but he did manage. Their mouths parted just long enough for Aaron to jerk his jeans and underwear over his hips, leaving them lingering just below his ass. Taking the opportunity, Spencer did the same and then spit into his palm. When Aaron settled back on top of him, Spencer reached between them and took their dicks in his hand, stroking even as Aaron’s hips jerked forward.
Spencer closed his eyes and let the scent of his lover’s hair, the sweet smell of sweat and spice, fill his senses and thought maybe it was the closest to heaven he’d ever been. The frightened, excited pants against his neck felt like pure joy. Instead of the panic and pain Spencer normally saw in Aaron’s face when they were intimate, he saw arousal and need, need for him. Nothing could compare to the feeling of freedom welling in his chest, and he wished he’d drunk beer with Aaron long before then. They’d never experimented with alcohol because his dad said Aaron needed to work through his psychological damage without self-medicating. His father didn’t have to listen to the terror in Aaron’s voice when they tried to show their love for each other. He didn’t have to feel that cold, metallic sting of rejection on the back of his tongue when his boyfriend didn’t want Spencer to touch him. Spencer couldn’t even imagine what Aaron saw as he closed his eyes, but he pushed that thought away to dissect later.
“That. Feels. So. Good.,” Spencer moaned into Aaron’s hair as they lay sprawled on the leather couch in the rec room they’d come to think of as theirs. A little den of iniquity where they could explore each other, emotionally, intellectually, and on a very rare occasion, physically. Even with the six-pack of beer in his system, Aaron still had only pulled his jeans and underwear to his thighs, leaving his shirt wrinkled and pushed up his chest. No amount of alcohol would ever make him comfortable being naked, even with Spencer, who loved him more than anything on earth.
When Aaron shook harder above him, Spencer tightened his grip on the cocks trapped between their writhing bodies. A bit of spit early on had given them enough lubrication to make the friction bearable. In an effort to make Aaron more comfortable, he let his lover control everything. His only job was to hold their dicks in his hand while Aaron jerked his hips and got them there. An image of Aaron driving into him as he wrapped his legs around Aaron’s waist made his cock throb. Spencer had never bottomed before, but for Aaron… for Aaron, he’d do anything. Aside from the few aborted attempts he’d had with Aaron, Spencer hadn’t had sex in almost three years, and his balls knew it. While he loved Aaron with every bit of his soul, he needed to be touched.
Aaron’s hips moved faster, his arms shaking with arousal and the effort of holding himself above Spencer as they perched precariously on the couch. His mouth found Aaron’s again, and his lips tingled with the vibrations of moans he couldn’t hear. More than anything, Spencer wanted to wrap his legs around Aaron’s waist, but that wasn’t possible. Aaron would panic if he felt restrained in any way, and Spencer didn’t want their afternoon delight to end anytime soon. He opened his eyes and watched the play of emotion across Aaron’s face as he threw his head back, arching. With his inhibitions, his terror kept at bay by alcohol, the freedom in Aaron’s face made Spencer’s body sing. So close. Hi
s orgasm drifted on the edge of nirvana, just beyond his reach. His pleasure was secondary, though, to Aaron’s. He wanted to get Aaron there first, and then he could come. As Aaron’s dick throbbed in his hand, Spencer got the impression it wouldn’t be long. In fact, as Aaron dropped his head onto Spencer’s shoulder and seemed to surrender to the sensation, Spencer thought it wouldn’t be long at all.
Then Aaron’s head jerked up, and a look of panic crossed his face. Spencer’s heart sank. Not now. As Spencer put a hand on Aaron’s chest and tried to get him back into their lovemaking, Aaron jerked his head toward the door. His eyes widened, and he scrambled off the couch, almost bruising Spencer’s balls with his knee.
“What.?” Spencer asked even as he glanced over the back of the couch toward the door. “What” became apparent when he saw his father framed in the doorway. Spencer swore, and his heart ached at the pain and humiliation in Aaron’s eyes as he jerked his jeans up. With one look at Spencer he pushed past Spencer’s father and left the room.
“Dad. What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing. Here.? And., Really.?” Spencer said, lifting his hips to pull discarded shorts back over his naked hips. “He. Does. Not. Have. Enough. Issues. Without. You. Playing. Peeping. Tom.?” The T-shirt went on next as he squared off against his father. Spencer wanted to go to Aaron and check on him, but right then he was too furious with his father. As Aaron’s therapist, he should have understood how fragile Aaron was.
“I did not know you were there,” Dr. Thomas signed with a slight frown as he looked in the direction Aaron had retreated. “I heard a noise, and the hotel had a fire. They canceled the conference.” His hands stopped uselessly in the air, and his face turned toward the front door.
