Feeling the mattress bend as he got up, hearing him walk out. The toilet flushing. The sink’s tap. The door. The kitchen cabinets. The tap again. The fridge. Spencer was floating a bit, trying to stay conscious, to tame his trembling hands. Letting his tears pearl, because he could mourn whatever the fuck, alone. His mask gone for a fleeting moment, he got so scared of himself, that he had to moan and turn to his side, bite the soft pad under his thumb. That pain… washing the other one out…so good…
He might have slumbered because he woke to a shake to his shoulder, meeting Duncan’s eyes, the scent of pancakes and syrup filling the air.
“Hey… breakfast?”
Spencer pushed himself up to sit, dizzy. “Ok…” Eyeing that plate which got pushed into his lap. The raspberries on top, swimming in syrup.
Duncan sat next to his legs on the bed, holding a plate too. “Some fruit will do you good.” Looking at the raspberries, he remembered that cake sliding down that white wall. Chuckling a bit, he pushed a bite in his mouth.
Spencer looked up. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me though? Now that you laughed.”
Duncan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ah, alright… before I took this job, my boyfriend, almost fiancé, kicked me out… and I had bought a raspberry and cream cake, and flung it against the wall when he broke up with me… over the phone…” He had to laugh a bit to kill that misery surging up.
Spencer snickered, eyeing him as he pushed a bite in his mouth, the sugar finding his blood, that sweet and sour taste flooding his senses. “I see…”
“I left it there too… on the floor…”
Their eyes meeting, somehow, that grief and darkness had to be laughed away. Spencer’s miserable nausea, their pain, those dark thoughts churning like storm clouds. Laughing, until tears started pearling out of their eyes, and they had to stop eating, holding their plates as their shoulders shook.
It was Spencer who realized first he had never done anything like this before, killing that laughter. “Yeah, well… good on you for being so vengeful.”
Duncan shrugged, wiping his tears off. “I mean, he deserved it… so…” That joy had turned into an icy grief in a moment, a moment when he let his guard down.Fuck.Eating to push that clenched throat apart.
Spencer’s laughter had turned into that icy hate he knew so well. He put the plate down. “I have to go…” He eyed the wrinkled sheets, those sheets stained with sweat and cum. “We made a right mess…” Almost a smile there, his skin warming at his memories.Fuck this.
Duncan shrugged. “It’ll go in the wash, no worries.” Even if, somehow, he didn’t even want to wash the sheets yet… he glanced at Spencer. “You’ll be grand walking there on your own?”
Spencer smiled, dark. “I could manage to sneak here… I might be able to manage to sneak back…” Giving him a mocking wink.
“Alright.” Watching Spencer stand on wobbly legs, pick his clothes up off the floor. That scarce clothing pulled on fast.
He raked his hair back, and turned to Duncan, and for a fleeting moment, Spencer looked regal, like on that portrait in his room. For a fleeting moment, his eyes lived too, until they filled with scorn.
“Well… I’ll see you around. I might go out soon, so be ready.”
Duncan didn’t move. “Sure…” Wondering how fast would Spencer reveal their night and have him kicked out.
Watching him leave, his swaying hips, hearing the door.
He blew a breath, putting his plate down as he leant back on the bed. Their scents lingering.Fuck… He’s a hateful little shit… doesn’t deserve any feelings…Knowing he had been probably used and discarded like a rag, he felt a bit like shit, a bit mad at himself that he had gone all the way.Fuck… maybe damage control…
He took his phone and dialled, waiting for that smooth voice.
“You’re either calling to resign your client, or you slept with the young man.”
Duncan couldn’t speak for a few seconds. “How?”
Sinclair chuckled. “So the latter. Ah… and what do you want me to do?”
“Nothing… I wanted you to know first, in case they call you to terminate my contract.”
“And why would they?”
“I mean…”
