“I remembered…”
Duncan shot him a warm look, drenched in the certainty that Spencer wouldn’t die on his knees in his own blood and piss. “I’ll get you out of here, ok? I promise.”
“Right…” Bitter.
“Can you believe in it? Just to hold. Not to collapse.”
Spencer sighed, drained. He scooted closer to the wall and leant against it. “Yes…”
Duncan’s eyes roamed him, his clothes, his hair, that mismatched haircut he had now with the right side all but gone. The hairpins hanging on some rogue threads…
“Can you scoot closer to me?”
Spencer looked at him. “Maybe…” Pushing on his knees, he scooted closer whilst Duncan did the same. Almost. The cuffs biting into their wrists when they got close.
Duncan smiled, leaning into his cuffs. “Closer…”
“I’m trying…”
Spencer pulled too, leaning towards him. A sigh of relief when Duncan just caught his lips in a soft kiss. Trembling, his tears spilling, he kissed him back, that wide kiss enough to give himsome courage, some respite, his warm mouth haven after the room’s cold.
Duncan whispered against his lips. “Lean your head a bit forward.”
Spencer obeyed, and he felt his lips glide to his hair. Nibbling. Pulling away. Spencer looked at him, relaxing that pull on his wrists.
Duncan had one of his hair pins pinched between his lips. One pull of his tongue, and it disappeared in his mouth. A wink. “Sit back now and we wait a bit…”
Spencer nodded, sitting back, but being so far, even if just a few steps apart, was killing him.
Waiting, slumbering maybe, he could not tell, when the door opening jolted him awake. The man walked back in, holding two plates.
He put them down next to them. “Figure it out how you’ll eat without hands.” Laughing a bit. “And here’s some water.” He put two buckets down. “I hope you won’t make a mess. As for your other needs, well, you can just shit and piss where you’re sitting. I mean, that never killed anybody.” Laughing again. “Well, see you in a few hours, I guess, with maybe good news? Who knows.” He left then, banging the door shut.
Spencer glanced at that bread roll with a piece of cheese on the plate, and that bucket of water. “How…”
Duncan pushed on his knees, lowering his head to the plate. “Like this…” Nibbling at the roll with his teeth, he bit chunks of it off, same with the cheese. Drinking then straight from the bucket like a horse.Heaven.
Spencer protested, revolted. “No way. I’m not an animal.”
“Technically you are though… Eat and drink. This is vital. More so when you’ll need to run.”
“Run... right… we’re going to die here. They’ll kill us!” Trembling again.
Duncan looked at him. “Hey! We won’t die. And they won’t kill us. Ok? Eat, please.”
Spencer obeyed, drenched in that mounting panic that he would die no matter what. Eating what he could, drinking, he felt better even if his shoulder was killing him now. He leant back, pale, weak, on the verge of fainting.
Duncan’s voice, soft. “You have to stay awake. Tune out the pain as much as you can.”
Spencer smiled, his eyes closed. “I’m not an ex-soldier like you… just a rich, spoiled brat.”
“Well, this self-confession could have come at a better time but I’ll take it.”
Spencer looked at him, at his grin. “If we ever get out of here, I’m stopping… the drinking… the…”
“Hold on to that thought, ok? Don’t make promises now on adrenaline and fear.”
“You made a promise too.”
