Duncan stood and walked behind the canvas, his eyes going wide. He was happy to have his discipline because he almost fell over, being eye to eye with himself, even if it was not fully realistic, somehow Spencer had captured him sitting there, a bit lost. He couldn’t school his face fast enough though, moved.
“This is… amazing…”
Spencer smirked and walked to a small bar, pouring a glass of whiskey. His hand shook, so he set it around the glass, walking back to him. Feeling his heat, his skin, so close.
“Decent, I would say… the model could have been a bit more beautiful…”
“Fuck you.” The anger was missing though, his eyes roaming that painting.
“I’d like to exhibit this, if you don’t mind… not your name, no… just the title, maybe…” He sipped at that fiery liquid, soothing burn. “Semper fi… my faithful guard dog.” Grinning.
Duncan turned to him, fed up a bit. “Alright, smartass… I told you…”
Spencer looked up at him. “I know… just teasing…so, may I?”
“This is your work, do whatever you want with it.”
“You don’t mind?”
“No…” Somehow, he didn’t. Feeling a bit proud too. “You’re very talented, from what I can tell.”
Spencer smirked, that hate creeping back into his eyes. “Decent, as I said.” Eyes a bit wide when he felt Duncan grab his arm, turning him around.
“You’re fucking talented, ok?”
Lost a bit under that hard touch, his eyes. “Ok… ok mister Righteous… you’re a life coach now?”
“No. Just… stop always thinking you’re shit.”
“I might be…” But above that burning glass, another warmth crept into his throat.Fuck.“Ok, time for you to dispose, and for me to get drunk.”
Duncan rolled his eyes, but dressed. “Can I tempt you with some food?”
Spencer’s eyes gleamed. “Only if it’s a cheeseburger with an extra-large portion of fries.”
“Deal.”
“Oh, hurry then… before there’s nothing to soak this whiskey up.”
Duncan left, and Spencer’s eyes went back to the painting.Semper fi.His lips curling up.
Chapter 8
Acouple of days passed in uneventful boredom, when Spencer just kept drinking and smoking in his room, with the occasional visits from Mia, and sometimes his friends. Scarce words exchanged with Duncan, as if since that painting session, he had grown distant, locking up into that hateful self he had built as a shell.
Waiting one night to be driven to the vernissage of one of his parents’ friend’s exhibitions, he seemed bored, already stoned out of his mind when the car pulled up.
Duncan opened the door for him, worried a bit at how he was already unsteady. “Sure you want to go?”
Spencer looked up at him, mocking. “Yes… sure… Shoo-shoo…”
Duncan closed the door, fed up.
But he followed the parents’ car to that posh exhibit hall, filled with posh people standing with drinks in their hands. The crowd thick outside. His stomach clenched, because this was not supposed to be an event like this, but apparently, the party had been spread to the street too, at least, music was blaring from the speakers and people danced, cheering at the arriving guests.
Duncan parked the car near the curb, and went around it. He caught Spencer’s arm when he scrambled outside.
“I’m fine…” Swaying, so Duncan waited until he could stand.
