He turned to Duncan with that small smile he had, but he seemed so tired, Duncan’s heart lurched.
Spencer walked close. “We’re fucking alone… can’t make much noise though… you’re only supposed to guard me here.”
Duncan ran his knuckles down his cheek. “Hey… what about a bath? You seem tired.”
“This whole fucked up shit!” He glanced towards his bathroom. “I don’t really bathe…”
“Time to start then.”
Spencer caught his hand. “Only if you join me.”
“We’ll fit?”
“It’s a fucking huge tub.”
Duncan smirked and they walked to the bathroom, an enormous marble tub with golden taps taking the whole wall.
“Wow…”
“Told you.” Spencer pushed a few buttons and several holes in the tub started rumbling water. He turned to Duncan, burning with fatigue. With lust. “Time to strip.”
Duncan just unbuttoned Spencer’s shirt, not leaving his eyes as he carefully peeled that soft shirt off. Going to his knees to unzip Spencer’s boots, he eased them off whilst Spencer held onto his shoulders, dazed. Duncan pulled Spencer’s pants off too, his boxers, gently nudging him to the tub.
Spencer climbed in and looked up at him. “And you?”
“I can undress myself.” He took his holster off, his shirt, and the rest followed, carefully draped on a stand.
Spencer’s eyes ate him up. “Come already… you’re taking forever…” The warm water was getting at him though, but he waited until Duncan sat in to wedge himself against him. Sighing when those broad arms went around him, that tattoo even darker with the water. He traced the letters.
“That woman wants to fuck me.”
Feeling his breath hitch. “What?”
“Yeah… that woman who bought the painting. She invited me over. It was pretty obvious. And my mother would sell me out in a heartbeat.” Tracing his arm, that silence, a blessing. That he didn’t scold, make a scene. “Do you think I’m whoring myself out?”
Duncan tipped Spencer’s chin to him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I sleep around.”
“So what? Whom you fuck is not anybody’s business.”
“It could be yours.”
Duncan sighed. “Ok… it’s not like we’re… a couple or anything. You are free to do what you want.” Even if his heart had pinched at his own words, it seemed right not to fuck up what they had.
“But I should not fuck that woman.”
“That’s your choice.”
“I need an answer from you.” Mad a bit, that anger was lapping at his throat.
“No, I don’t think you should fuck her.”
Spencer shuddered despite the warm water, and Duncan just took some shower gel and started washing him, soaping him up, gliding his hands on his arms, his chest, scooping some water on his hair, smoothing it back, combing it with his fingers. Massaging his scalp. Spencer had closed his eyes, on the verge of breaking down, but he would not allow himself that luxury.Floating on his touch, on being blended against his skin. Feeling safe.
He swallowed that lump in his throat. “Do you think I’m a majestic fuckup?”
Duncan’s hand stopped in his hair. “No…”
