"Wow." He had no other words to describe the whirlwind he'd just been swept up in.
Quinn let out another one of his noncommittal grunts. "For the record, I'm not ashamed of my heritage. I mean, you saw what happened. That's pretty much all the time. And that's not even my whole family. You'd need a damn stadium to fit everyone in. Everyone's always in everyone else's business, giving advice, telling me what I should do with my life, who I should date, what I should eat. I know they mean well, but it just gets a bit much sometimes, you know?"
"Not really. My dad left when I was five, my mom did her best to raise me on her own, and the rest of the family didn't want to know." When he tried to recall his dad, his features were fuzzy, like a blurred-out photograph.
Quinn ran a hand over his hair with a heavy sigh. "Shit, I'm sorry."
Spencer shrugged. "It's hard to miss someone who was never there. Must be nice to have someone make a fuss over you. In your case, lots of someones. Shows they care. I've been heating up my own SpaghettiOs since I was six." He stood and shoved his hands awkwardly into his pockets. "Anyway, I had a great time. I really like your family. I should probably get going, let you get some rest."
"You don't have to." Quinn must have caught the surprise on Spencer's face, because he quickly elaborated. "You can hang around, I mean. Put on a movie or something. I'm not feeling tired. Not after all that tres leches."
"Tell me about it. But damn, that spongy stuff is so good." Spencer toed off his shoes and walked over to the DVD rack, smiling when he spotted an unexpected title among several action movies.
"What?" Quinn asked, craning his neck to get a better look at the movie in Spencer's hand.
"No way." Spencer could barely contain his grin. He spun on his heels and held up the DVD.
Quinn's eyes went wide. "Shit."
"You have Magic Mike?" How had he not noticed it before? Spencer chuckled at Quinn's sudden interest in the couch cushion. He brushed off some nonexistent dust.
"It was a Christmas present from my sister."
"Right." Spencer laughed. "Because nothing says family holidays like strippers."
"Shut up."
Spencer gasped. "They didn't."
Quinn folded his arms over his chest, his gaze everywhere but on Spencer. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"They watched it with you, didn't they?" This was too good. He dashed over to the couch and climbed up beside Quinn. He waved the DVD at him. "Admit it."
Quinn shook his head but didn't say a word.
"Oh my God!" Spencer fell back onto the couch, holding his stomach as he burst into peals of laughter. "You watched Magic Mike with your mom!"
"It's not like I sat watching porno with her."
"Close enough."
Quinn swiped the DVD from him and tossed it onto the coffee table. "You think that's funny?"
Spencer laughed until he had tears in his eyes. He could just picture Quinn sitting there mortified as his mom provided commentary. "I think that's fucking hilarious."
"I'll show you hilarious." Quinn grabbed Spencer around the waist and dragged him onto his lap before tickling him under his arms.
"Shit. Stop!" Spencer writhed and twisted. He curled up as Quinn tickled him relentlessly. He took hold of Spencer's bare foot. "No! Not there," Spencer squealed and kicked out in the hopes of getting his foot away from Quinn, but the guy was stronger. In a desperate attempt to get away, he made to sit up and threw his arm up, smacking Quinn in the nose.
"Fuck!"
"Shit. I'm sorry." Spencer sat up and carefully shifted, mindful of his weight on Quinn. He took hold of Quinn's face and looked him over. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
Quinn wrinkled his nose and shook his head, a broad smile coming onto his face. "Nah, I'm good."
It occurred to Spencer then that he was straddling Quinn's lap, his hands on Quinn's stubbly jaw. He dropped his eyes to Quinn's mouth, his dick twitching in his pants when Quinn ran his tongue over his bottom lip. His deep brown eyes darkened, and Quinn's hands slid up to his waist before moving under his shirt, his thumb stroking Spencer's skin, sending a shiver through him. Not giving it any thought, Spencer covered Quinn's mouth with his.
The kiss between them exploded in a rolling storm of heat and need. Spencer hungrily accepted everything Quinn was willing to give. Whatever Spencer had imagined Quinn tasted and felt like was blown out of the water. Quinn made a meal of Spencer's lips, his tongue plunging and exploring. He tasted sweet from dessert, with a hint of coffee, and his strong hands kneaded Spencer's ass. His cock strained against Spencer's jeans, and Spencer pressed himself against Quinn's hard body, his fingers digging into the soft yet firm flesh of Quinn's biceps.
Quinn thrust up against him, and Spencer moaned at the feel of Quinn's erection pushing against his ass. They kissed heatedly, teeth nipping, tongues dueling, their breaths growing ragged. Spencer lost himself in Quinn's embrace, in his strength and the firmness of his body underneath him. He was desperate and greedy for more. Spencer broke the kiss only to move his lips to Quinn's jaw before trailing kisses down to his neck, aware of Quinn's sharp intake of breath. Urged by Quinn's reaction, Spencer nipped at Quinn's skin, relishing the deep groan that rumbled from his chest. Quinn moved his hand between them, cupping Spencer through his jeans before a knock at the door startled the hell out of both of them.
Shit. Spencer let his head rest against Quinn's. Well, it was good while it lasted.
Chapter Seven
"YOU HAVE got to be fucking kidding me."
Quinn let out a low growl at the pounding on his door. He ignored it for a moment, concentrating on the wonderful guy in his arms. Quinn looked into questioning green eyes. He could see it all over Spencer's expressive face: Spencer was worried that Quinn might be regretting it, or that whatever had just happened was a momentary lapse in judgment, a heat-of-the-moment thing. Quinn kissed Spencer, smiling against his lips.
"This isn't over."
Spencer returned his kiss, his hands on Quinn's cheeks. He pulled away with a breathy laugh. "Good."
"Oye, Quinn. You alive?"
"I'm going to kill him." Quinn waited for Spencer to climb off him, thanking him when he handed Quinn his crutch.
"Who is it?"
"Friend from work. He's on my team."
What the hell was Javier doing here? And why couldn't the guy pick up his damned phone and call first? Quinn opened the door, surprised to see Javier wasn't alone. The rest of their friends were with him.
"Bro, what took you so long? You jacking off or something?"
Manny looked over Quinn's shoulder, a sly smile coming onto his face. "Or something."
Quinn gaped at Javier in disbelief. "For fuck's sake. You wanna at least pretend you have some fucking manners? Santo Cielo."
"Shit, sorry, Quinn." Joseph smacked Javier in the arm. "I told you. You should have called."
Javier ignored Jo and ducked under Quinn's arm to get into the apartment. This was just perfect. Quinn followed him in, leaving the rest of the guys to close the door behind them. His friends weren't the problem. It was Javier. The guy was abrasive, and not a lot of people appreciated his particular brand of often-offensive humor. The guy had his good points, but they were often overshadowed by his being a dick.
"Hey."
Javier walked straight to Spencer and held a hand out. Spencer shook it with some hesitation. Quinn didn't blame him. Javier was looking at Spencer the way someone would a car they were thinking of buying.
"Um, hi."
Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, something he seemed to do when he was feeling nervous. Shit. There was no mistaking what they'd been doing. Spencer's lips were swollen from kissing, his face pink and flushed, his hair sticking up all over, and his clothes a rumpled mess. Quinn probably wasn't looking any better off, though he had to admit it was a good look for Spencer. Quinn was rather pleased with himself for putting that blush on Spencer's cheeks.
Quinn cl
eared his throat before making the introductions. "Guys, this is Spencer Morgan, a friend of mine. Spence, this is Javier, Manny, Joseph, and Santana."
Spencer shook all their hands. "Hi. Nice to meet you. Quinn's always talking about you guys."
"All lies," Manny teased, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Maybe about you." Santana gave Manny a playful shove. "All the awesome things he says about me are true."
Javier was back in Spencer's personal space. "So what do you do, Spencer?"
Spencer let out a soft laugh. Damn, he was sexy. "Nothing as exciting as you guys. I do web design, coding, graphics."
"Cool." Javier dropped himself onto the couch. "Computer stuff. You must be smart, then, to do all that geeky stuff."
"Um, yeah, I guess," Spencer replied with a shrug. "Though the design aspect requires more of an art background. I do all my own original graphics."
"So you draw?"
Spencer nodded. "Yeah, since I was a kid. Used to draw mostly comic book stuff. Never thought it would come in handy for a career."
Javier gave a sniff and shrugged. "I've never really cared about cartoons and shit. Now, the Batman movies, that's fucking cool. Don't understand why a bunch of grown men would want to read comic books when they could just watch the movies."
"Well, you wouldn't have the movies without the comics."
Javier blinked at him. "What?"
"All those superhero movies. They're based on the comic books and their characters. Without the comic books, you wouldn't have the movies."
Javier narrowed his eyes. "Fuck off. Which one?"
"All of them."
"Superman?"
Spencer nodded. "Superman's been around since the thirties."
"Thirty what?"
Jesus. Quinn said a prayer for patience. He felt Manny's hand on his back. Quinn arched an eyebrow at his friend, who was doing his damned hardest not to laugh at their friend's stupefied expression. Sometimes Quinn wondered how the guy had made it this far. Spencer glanced over at Quinn. He clearly couldn't tell if Javier was being serious or not. Sadly, he was serious. Hopefully Spencer could see in Quinn's face how sorry he was.
Spencer looked back at Javier. "Thirties as in 1930."
"That fucking old?" Javier let out a low whistle.
"Yeah."
"What about Batman?"
"Also thirties," Spencer replied with a smile. "1939."
Javier eyed him. "Iron Man?"
"1960s."
Javier clapped and let out a laugh. He turned his attention to the rest of them. "Check this guy out. He's like a fucking nerd encyclopedia."
"Right." Spencer turned to Quinn. "Listen, I'm gonna go."
"Aw, come on. Stay and talk with us," Javier called out, patting the couch next to him.
Quinn glared at him over Spencer's shoulder. He hoped his "I'm going to kick your ass" came through. He knew what Javier was up to, and he wasn't about to let him embarrass Spencer any more than he already had. Quinn headed for the door, and Spencer followed, saying his good-byes to everyone on the way out. Outside, Quinn closed the door behind him.
"I'm sorry if he made you feel uncomfortable. He has this disorder where he has to be a dick to everyone at all times or his oxygen levels deplete."
Spencer chuckled, relieving some of Quinn's fear that he'd be branded a jerk by association.
"Everyone has that one friend. It's okay. They came by to see you." He rocked on his heels. "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"I'd really like that."
"Yeah?"
In case there were any doubts left in Spencer that Quinn was interested in continuing where they had left off, he took hold of Spencer's chin and gave his lips a kiss. "Yeah." He pulled back and gave him a wink. "I'll text you before bed."
"Okay."
With a big smile, Spencer left. Quinn waited until he was gone before going back into his apartment. He closed the door firmly behind him. Manny, Jo, and Santana were sitting on the couch. They all shifted away from Javier. Quinn hobbled in and thrust a finger at Javier.
"You are a fucking asshole."
Javier put his hands up. "What? What did I do?"
Quinn opened his mouth to reply but decided there was no point. Javier never understood why someone might be upset by his callous remarks. Since meeting Spencer, Quinn had learned enough to know Spencer occasionally struggled with confidence. It didn't take a genius to see he felt intimidated by Quinn and the rest of his larger-than-life family and friends.
"Dude, you should be thanking us."
"Thanking you?"
Quinn gaped at Javier. He couldn't come up with an appropriate response. Jo's "Uh-oh" didn't go unnoticed.
"Yeah. You two were clearly doing whatever you gay guys do. You should be thanking us for saving you from making a horrible mistake."
Quinn's nostrils flared. He was ready to plant a fist in Javier's face when the guy motioned to the kitchen. He beamed brightly at Quinn.
"How about un cortadito?"
Quinn was about to tell him what to do with his cortadito but decided making some coffee might distract him from punching Javier out. He gritted his teeth and went to the kitchen, Javier getting up to follow. The others remained where they were, talking among themselves, most likely wondering whether they should retreat or call for backup.
"You could have gotten one down the street," Quinn grumbled.
"Yeah, but yours always taste better," Javier whined. "Plus, your espuma is fucking beautiful."
"Oh, so you want espuma too?" Quinn pulled out his stainless steel stovetop espresso maker from the cabinet and unscrewed the two halves. He filled the bottom half with water until it reached the valve before packing some Cafe La Llave into the funnel. He popped it onto the stove with the lid open and turned the heat up, his glare being ignored by his oblivious half-wit friend.
Quinn removed five espresso cups from one of the cabinets, then pulled out the small glass measuring cup he had stored in the dishwasher. He poured in five tablespoons of sugar, and waited until the thick black coffee bubbled out of the small column in the coffeemaker. The moment he saw there was just enough for his sugar, he poured a small amount into the measuring cup, then closed the lid on the coffeemaker so it could keep brewing. He grabbed a spoon and stirred the sugar and coffee.
"Look, bro. You know I don't care that you like dick, but seriously, that guy?"
Quinn continued to stir the coffee and sugar until they were a light caramel color. Maybe if he pretended he hadn't heard Javi, the guy would shut up and forget about Spencer. Finished stirring his sugar, he popped it on the counter and waited for the rest of the coffee to finish. Making all types of Cuban coffee was something he and his siblings had learned to do since they were old enough to help their mom in the kitchen. He occasionally had a latte here and there, but it couldn't compare to the sweet, strong deliciousness that was Cuban espresso.
"Don't ignore me."
Quinn sighed. He should have asked for stronger meds. "What's wrong with Spencer?" With the coffee done, Quinn tilted the sugar/coffee mix that would become the espresso's frothy top. He poured the coffee into the measuring cup, then poured a cup for everyone. He placed them on the counter and called out.
"Cafe."
The others silently approached, took their coffees, and hurried back to the couch. Cowards.
"Aside from the fact that his name is Spencer, he's a total geek, bro. Didn't you hear him? Plus, I could bench him with one arm tied behind my back."
Quinn wasn't about to admit he'd thought the same thing. At first. "It must be the painkillers, because I'm not getting what you're saying."
"You're a good-looking guy. You should find someone equally or more fit than you." Javier took a sip of his coffee and moaned. "Man, this shit is so good."
"So what you're saying is I should approach finding men the way you approach finding women."
"Exactly. I mean, it's the same shit really, aside from the d
ick part."
Quinn eyed him. "You know, for a straight guy, you talk about dick a lot. Like, a lot."
"Tell me one guy who doesn't. And if he's not talking about it, he's thinking about it. Not in a gay way, obviously."
"Obviously." Quinn rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot." He finished his coffee and put his cup in the sink.
"Fuck you. I'm trying to help."
"By warning me away from a sweet, funny guy who gives a shit about me--not about what I can bench, how much money I have, or the car I drive, but me--despite knowing what a grumpy fuck I am? Despite having met my family and my asshole friend?" Quinn shook his head in disbelief. Was Javi really that shallow? Had he been that shallow? What did it say about him that Spencer had been living next door nearly a year and he'd barely noticed him?
"Yeah, but don't you get bored listening to him go on about all that comic book shit?"
"Let's talk about something else before I hurt you," Quinn growled.
"All I'm saying is that you can do better."
Quinn met Javier's gaze, his expression hard. "Stay out of it. I'm warning you." He headed into the living room to talk to someone who didn't give him a headache. The more he thought about Javier's words, the more he thought about Spencer and his gorgeous smile. He could still feel Spencer's lips on him, his warm breath, and the feel of his hands. Quinn sat down, cursing himself for being an idiot. They could have been doing this a year ago. Regardless, Quinn had every intention of making up for lost time.
Chapter Eight
"I DON'T know if I can do this."
Spencer helped Danny unload his groceries from the trunk of his car. He looked up at the two trucks similar to Quinn's parked in the visitors' spots. This was the third time Quinn's friends had come for dinner after Quinn had raved about his cooking. After the first meal of Italian dishes, they'd been hooked. Spencer enjoyed cooking for the gang, and his ego didn't mind it either. It had become a weekly thing, something they all did on Thursday evenings, since that was when the guys were off.
Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts Page 6