From the corners of his eyes, Justin spotted a tissue box and a bottle of lotion lying on the carpet opposite from where Spencer was sitting. He quickly rushed to sit down while carefully moving the tissue and lotion out of sight.
There’s no way he saw that, Justin thought. He can’t have seen that. Please, God, don’t let him have seen that.
“I keep those things in my nightstand,” Spencer said.
“What?” Justin asked, hoping against hope Spencer wasn’t referring to his jack-off paraphernalia.
Spencer nodded toward the opposite side of the couch, where Justin had hidden his supplies. “The lotion and the Kleenex,” he said matter-of-factly. “Although I prefer using a towel for cleanup. Tissues stick to your junk and then you have to pick it off. I’m not a fan of that.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” Justin admitted. In shame, he hid his face in his hands. All he wanted now was to slink off and die in a corner. Although in his messy apartment, there might not be a corner to slink into. Due to his lack of tidiness, he had no other option but to sit there and accept Spencer’s ridicule. “This isn’t a great first impression. I’m sorry.”
Spencer laughed again. Justin looked up from his hands to see his eyes once again flash a deep green. “Why are you apologizing?” Spencer asked. “Jacking off is a way of life. Plus, it’s fun. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I do it at least once a day.”
Now, it was Spencer’s turn to blush. His white skin flushed, as if two cherries were suddenly suspended from his cheekbones. To combat the reddening of his cheeks, he changed the subject. “Besides, this apartment wasn’t the first impression.”
“It wasn’t?” Justin asked. He was curious as to how this apartment could be anything less than a mood killer.
“Nope,” Spencer answered, scooting closer to Justin on the couch. “The midnight kiss was the first impression. That one was a doozy. Best first impression ever.”
“You really think so?” Justin asked, closing the gap on the couch between them.
“Yes,” Spencer whispered. “In fact, I think it’s time for a second impression.” He then leaned in for a kiss.
If possible, this kiss was even better than the first. The one a couple of hours ago, at midnight on New Year’s Eve, had been magical. Fanfare and confetti followed it; it was a herald of more to come. More intimate, more personal, and more seductive, this kiss held more than passion, which was overflowing—it also contained a hope for something more. It burned as an all-consuming flame, threatening to reduce their clothes to cinder if they didn’t discard them immediately.
He had no choice but to pull away from their kiss, and as Spencer’s sweet-tasting lips still lingered on his tongue, his fingertips blazed a trail down the soft fabric of Spencer’s shirt. In response, Spencer’s breathing quickened and he shivered. When Justin arrived at Spencer’s waist, he untucked the green polo from Spencer’s jeans and yanked the shirt free of his creamy skin.
While Justin’s right hand caressed the lines of Spencer’s face, from his cheeks to his clean-shaven chin, Justin’s left hand traveled along his smooth chest. He traced a path across Spencer’s lean but toned pecs, running his fingertips over the sensitive nipples. He rolled one between his index and forefinger, urging the flesh to harden.
Spencer bit his lip and his breathing became labored, so Justin increased the pressure, tweaking the nipple roughly, which caused Spencer to squirm and whimper. When Spencer started thrusting his pelvis against his leg, Justin knew it was time.
He pounced on top of Spencer, and they fell backward onto the couch. Their tongues resumed their incessant wrestling match, slipping and sliding within the hot confines of the other’s wet lips. Justin then worked his way from Spencer’s mouth to his neck, where he lapped at the salty skin, teasing Spencer with quick flicks of his tongue that caused him to moan and buck his pelvis harder against Justin’s raging hardness.
“You’re driving me crazy,” Spencer whispered, his voice thick with passion.
“I’m just getting started.”
He lifted Spencer’s right arm, exposing the light blond bush of armpit hair for the first time. The sight of the soft coating of fur sent Justin’s passion into overdrive. He dove right into the musky pit and inhaled deeply, savoring the heady aroma of man scent that had accumulated over hours of bar hopping and dancing. For him, man smell was the most powerful aphrodisiac in the world, and he liked nothing better than burying his face in it and savoring it all. His tongue instinctively darted outward, twirling through the hair and savoring the intoxicating blend of sweat and musk.
“Fuck!” Spencer shouted, mad with desire. He sat upright, tugging Justin’s shirt from his body and then jerking his jeans downward in two quick motions.
“Fuck is right,” Justin responded as he speedily unfastened Spencer’s belt and tossed it into the ficus. Spencer’s jeans soon joined the belt, dangling precariously from a branch of the fake tree. Bare-chested and only in their underwear, their hands developed minds of their own, pinching nipples, running through hair, and venturing down to the straining fabric of their briefs.
They forced their erections together, dueling their swords in the most primal of conflicts. Even through the fabric, he felt waves of heat emanating from Spencer’s groin, and the weight of his engorged rod against his own threatened to drive him mad.
Spencer freed Justin from his Unicos first, taking his cock in his warm hands while slowly jacking him to a hardness his body had previously only reached at the dawn of puberty. Justin slid Spencer’s briefs down his lean thighs, and Spencer’s thick manhood bobbed before him. He longed to take Spencer into his mouth, to feel the thick head of his cock nudge the back of his throat, but he had yet to have his fill of Spencer’s bare body against his.
Justin pushed Spencer back onto the couch, where he once again fell on top of him, grinding their pelvises together and forcing their stiff pricks to slide in the sweat that coated their bodies. Looking down at Spencer, he realized he couldn’t get enough of him, something that hadn’t happened to him in years. Spencer’s white skin radiated like heavenly light against his dark flesh. Once again, like a kitten at a milk bowl, Justin drank covetously, as if Spencer’s naked flesh quenched a raging thirst never before satiated. It was creamy smooth, and a meal he could feast on for hours.
He dove into Spencer’s neck again, which drove Spencer wild, eliciting countless groans. His body shuddered with pleasure as Justin nibbled at the delicate flesh just under the right ear lobe. His hair smelled of pomegranate and mango. While Justin feasted on Spencer’s neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent, Justin’s left hand caressed Spencer’s smooth face then ran through his sandy locks while his right hand kneaded a handful of Spencer’s well-toned butt.
Spencer went just as wild. He rubbed up and down Justin’s back and then clawed down to his ass. His touch set Justin’s passions roaring. When Spencer slapped his ass, the sting stoked the flames higher, but when his finger ran down Justin’s crack until finally arriving at the warm center, his fervor reached temperatures far hotter than the sun.
Justin left Spencer’s neck and returned to ardently kissing his lips. Their tongues played in each other’s mouths, probing farther than either had ever gone before.
“We need to stop before we go any further,” Spencer said breathlessly, hesitantly pulling away from their eager kisses. “I have to tell you something first.”
“Stop?” Justin asked, not believing what he was hearing. “I don’t think I could if I tried.” He left Spencer’s lips and proceeded to his nipples. “We can talk later,” he said while he licked the small, delicate pink areola of the right nipple, which slowly hardened as he brought the sensitive skin to life. Spencer moaned and his hips bucked upward. The firmness that rested against Justin’s stomach turned steel hard.
“Please, we need to talk,” Spencer begged as Justin kissed his way down from Spencer’s chest to his smooth stomach.
Justin darted his tong
ue inside Spencer’s hairless navel, causing more body tremors and words of protest. Spencer kept asking him to stop but his body told Justin to continue. Something he planned on doing.
After teasing Spencer’s belly button, Justin trailed his tongue down to Spencer’s neatly trimmed crotch. Again, the musky aroma invigorated him. Justin shoved his nose into Spencer’s bush and inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the night’s sweat and the cologne modestly sprayed in the area before going out. The spit from his insistent tongue matted hair against bare flesh.
Finally, he moved down enough to once again see Spencer’s manhood. At an impressive eight inches, it throbbed in his hand, which strained to encircle its girth. Justin’s salivating mouth told him he had to taste it immediately.
But before he had a chance to sample it, Spencer yelled for him to stop and pushed Justin away.
“I’m positive!” Spencer exclaimed.
Justin sat on his haunches on the sofa cushion while Spencer rose from the couch.
“What are you positive about?” Justin asked, very confused and extremely frustrated.
“You’re not listening to me,” Spencer told him. “I’m positive.”
Justin still had no idea what Spencer was referring to. Was he positive about wanting to stop? Or talk?
When he looked into Spencer’s panicked, wide eyes, realization slowly dawned.
Spencer’s positivity wasn’t an emotional state; it was a medical condition.
CHAPTER 7
2010
JUSTIN lost track of time. He had no idea how long he knelt on the floor inside the house he’d owned with Spencer for the past seven years. When Spencer walked out the front door, leaving it standing open, as he often did when he took out the trash or checked the mailbox, Justin found his body incapable of movement.
He simply waited for Spencer to reenter the house, and his life, like a loyal canine anticipating the return of its master. Staring at the door for long intervals, he dared not even blink for fear of missing the exact moment when Spencer once again crossed the threshold.
Sitting there, his mind flew back to the first time he saw Spencer at the Bonham. He relived each moment as if New Year’s Eve 1999 were only yesterday. Instead, ten years had passed, and those years had brought changes Justin never imagined when he and Spencer took the first steps down the path of their life together.
He expected disagreements and upheavals, common events in a committed life between two people. Not once did he anticipate adultery and estrangement.
How did we get here? he wondered. To Justin, their relationship had changed too swiftly for a reason to be easily found. One minute they were immensely happy, fawning over each other incessantly. The next moment, a chasm opened between them, and they were clueless how to bridge it.
No, you were clueless, he reminded himself. Spencer was guiltless of all crimes. This was his doing. No one else’s. The blame was his burden alone. Accepting that might be the first step to getting Spencer back.
“I’m to blame,” he announced to the house, as if speaking the words out loud to the furniture and their possessions somehow equated with confessing to a priest. “I messed up, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back.”
Looking around the room, Justin hoped for some sign of absolution, willing the twin reclining leather back chairs, or the television armoire, or even the PS3 to suddenly come to life and accept his act of contrition.
They didn’t move. They simply sat in quiet condemnation.
What now? he asked himself.
How about getting off your ass and finding him? a voice from deep within answered. He wasn’t sure, but it sounded like his mother, chiding him. The only problem was his mother never cursed.
Oh, I curse all right, his mother’s voice said. I just never have in front of you, but since you’re approaching forty, I figure you’re old enough to hear it. Now move!
Justin rose from his kneeling position quickly. A command from his mother was always to be obeyed. But I don’t know what to do, he told his mother. Spencer left me.
Not yet, he hasn’t. He’s just left. If you don’t do something about it soon, then he’ll really be gone. Is that what you want?
He shook his head.
Then find him.
Where do I look?
You know him better than anybody. Where would he go?
His mother was right. He did know Spencer better than anyone else, and there was one person whom they would both go to in a time like this.
Justin ran to the kitchen, where he’d left his cell phone. He brought the phone to life by hitting the home button and dialed the number on his contact list. When a groggy voice answered after the fourth ring, he asked, “Is Spencer there?”
Tyler Scott was Justin and Spencer’s best friend. He had been their best friend for five years, after wresting the title from both Xavier and Alex, whom they rarely spoke to anymore. Like most of their single friends, Xavier and Alex only hung out with other single gays. To them, partnered gays were too reminiscent of the heterosexual establishment that wanted to oppress the freedom of being gay.
In reality, jealousy over their relationship was the most likely cause of their now distant friendships.
Tyler was different than most gay men. He despised the club life and preferred quiet nights at home, watching movies and playing games. He and Justin had met through a mutual fag hag at least a year before Justin and Spencer met. He and Tyler had even hooked up on and off before Spencer’s entrance into his life. There was even a time when Justin thought he might have been in love with Tyler.
That was then. Tyler was now the closest thing to a brother Justin had and even better than the brother Spencer actually had. If there were anyone Spencer would have gone to, it was Tyler.
“Spencer?” Tyler asked, his voice heavy with sleep. It was still very early in the morning. “No, he’s not here. Did y’all get into a fight?” As always, Tyler’s thick Texan accent made Justin smile, even when he didn’t feel like smiling.
“Yeah,” he told Tyler. He had no intention of divulging the full details at the moment. At some point, he would tell Tyler everything, but now wasn’t the time. He needed to find Spencer, to convince him to come home. “You sure he’s not there? You’re not lying for him, are you?”
“I don’t lie,” Tyler told him, which was true. Not only did Tyler not lie, he was awful at it when he tried. That was why no one ever told him what presents were purchased for Christmas or birthdays. If he knew, he would tell. He just couldn’t help himself.
“I’ve got to find him.” Justin couldn’t believe he was wrong. Tyler was the obvious person Spencer would seek out.
“Wait,” Tyler said. “What’s going on?”
The concern in his friend’s voice was apparent, and Justin desperately wanted to talk, to find some solace within another person, and in that solace feel less alone, less frightened. But he didn’t have the time for such luxuries. This wasn’t about what Justin needed. This was about what he and Spencer needed to salvage their relationship. “I can’t talk about it right now. I need to find him.”
“I can go looking if you want. I’ll drive around town and see if I can spot his car.”
Tyler’s offer made Justin love him even more. He was lucky to have such a good friend in Tyler. Tyler would offer the shirt off his back, even if he had no other shirts to wear. Tyler rarely thought of himself and was the first to arrive whenever a crisis occurred in someone’s life. He was a friend to all, even when they didn’t deserve him or his friendship.
“Thanks, but I need to do this,” Justin said. “It’s my mess. I have to clean it up.”
“Okay, babe,” Tyler told him. “Babe” was Tyler’s term of endearment for those he loved. It applied to boyfriends and best friends. “I’m here if y’all need to talk, or I can come to you. Okay?”
Justin thanked Tyler for the offer and promised to call him later.
When he hung up the phone, Justin was at a lo
ss. If Spencer wasn’t at Tyler’s, where would he be? Spencer’s parents lived in Universal City, which was on the outskirts of San Antonio, but there was no way Spencer would go there.
Are you sure? his mother’s voice asked.
Yes, he answered unequivocally. Spencer’s parents weren’t exactly welcoming of the gay lifestyle. They were cordial to Justin, but definitely not warm. Whenever Justin and Spencer visited them or his parents came over to their house, their attitude was frigid at best. They were uncomfortable with anything not Republican, military, or white. To have a gay son who was a Democrat and living with a Latin male was more than they could handle.
Spencer’s brother Brandon wasn’t stationed in San Antonio at the moment, but even if he were, Spencer wouldn’t go there. Brandon and Spencer had a general loathing for each other born from a childhood disagreement that had ended in Brandon’s broken bone.
Where else, then? his mother asked.
Carolyn, he answered. Spencer’s younger sister Carolyn lived in Alamo Heights, a more affluent neighborhood within the city. Spencer and Carolyn weren’t super close, but she was the person in his family whom he was the closest to. It was possible he might be at her house.
Anything’s possible, his mother said doubtfully.
Justin decided he had to call Carolyn and find out, even though it was approaching five in the morning.
She answered on the second ring.
“Carolyn, it’s Justin,” he said into the phone.
“Justin?” she asked, as if she had no clue who he was. Her voice wasn’t sleepy like Tyler’s. Obviously, Carolyn had been awake. Spencer might just be there after all.
“Spencer’s partner,” he told her in slight aggravation.
“Ah, yes, Spencer’s friend,” she said with a hint of venom. She wasn’t accepting of their relationship either, but she was the only one in the Harrison clan to make an iota of an effort to get along. Although at this moment, she wasn’t making much of an effort at all. For Justin, that meant Spencer was indeed there.
3 Page 5