Twelve

“HAVEN’T YOU ever been to a club before?” Clare asked as she checked her makeup in a pocket mirror for the tenth time since they left dinner. Spencer didn’t understand the obsession. She looked cute with her long brown curls swept up off her face, but you’d have thought she was on her way to get married. The train lurched out of the Fullerton station, and Spencer grabbed one of the overhead straps where he stood next to Clare, who seemed unfazed in her little plastic seat.

“No., I. Never. Had. Anyone. To. Go. With….”

The little girl who sat across from Clare stared at him from another little plastic seat. Eric and Paul hung precariously from their own overhead straps, and Paul held on to one of the poles as well, just for good measure. They were talking, but Spencer didn’t really pay attention to what they said. Instead he wondered about the lack of texts from Aaron the last few days. He’d considered e-mailing Aaron’s mother to check but knew if something had gone really wrong either she or Spencer’s father would have let him know. So that meant Aaron didn’t want to talk to him, and that made his heart hurt.

“Well, dinner was fabulous, and now we’re gonna go out and cut loose a little. The project is on schedule, and we deserve the downtime.” Clare slipped her mirror back into a little black purse, which she tucked under her arm as she stood. Eric touched his arm. Spencer turned to look.

“Belmont is next,” he said and grabbed the pole as he moved closer to the door. Spencer stood back and let Clare and Paul follow first and then he brought up the rear. They stepped off the train and onto the platform, where the flow of bodies led them down the stairs, through the turnstile, and out onto street level. Spencer made sure to stay right behind Clare because he wouldn’t be able to hear them calling him if they got separated.

They walked a few blocks to Halsted, the epicenter of gay culture in Chicago, and Spencer gazed around in awe. Pillars rose at intervals along the block, with rainbow-colored lights marking the area as Boystown, where their LGBT family could shine. They were just around the corner from his apartment as they passed Spin and headed up Halsted toward Hydrate. He’d seen the clubs during the day as he walked past on his way to the train, but he’d never actually had the nerve to wander down for the nightlife.

He put a hand on Clare’s arm, and she turned.

“Thank. You….”

“Everyone deserves a life, Spencer,” she said as she gave him a quick hug, and then they jogged a few steps to catch up with Eric and Paul in the lead. They showed their IDs to the bouncer, Spencer’s proving that he was barely old enough to walk through the door. A few guys sat at the big bar in the middle of the room. Empty chairs sat in clusters next to the counters that ran along every available wall space, even up on the raised area to their left. The bouncer made change and stamped their hands, allowing them to step inside. The floor vibrated under Spencer’s feet.

Clare poked Eric and pointed to a door near the back of the room, and they followed. After a very short hall, the room opened up into a much larger dance area. A DJ booth sat in the back corner just down from another, smaller bar. As Spencer let his gaze move through the room, he saw shirtless and sometimes pantsless guys dancing on raised platforms. A cute little gaysian twink danced in a jock on one in the corner, looking a little bored while a guy stuffed money into places dead presidents had no reason to be. In the middle of the room, in front of a huge mirror, a tall blond in light blue briefs made the tattoo down his spine ripple with lithe movements for a few interested patrons.

A hand on Spencer’s shoulder caught his attention.

“What do you want to drink?” Paul asked and waved to get the attention of a tall, hot bartender wearing jeans, a smile, and little else. He watched as Paul ordered a margarita for Clare and beers for himself and Eric.

“Beer… What. Ever. You. Are. Having.,” Spencer yelled, hoping it was loud enough over whatever music played. The thumping still jarred his feet, and Clare moved to the rhythm next to him. Eric shoved a couple of bills across the bar and handed a yellowish drink to Clare before handing two bottles of Corona to Paul and Spencer. The guy had shoved a lime wedge into the neck of the bottle, and he followed Paul’s example of pushing it down into the beer. Paul took a long drink and then pointed toward the floor with his bottle.

Clare slid her hand into his and pulled him through the growing throng of people past the mirror and to the back part of the room that hadn’t been visible from the bar. They passed a cage which contained two guys half dancing and half making out. As Spencer watched, the guy in front, a short, sweet little Hispanic, held on to the bars while the muscled bombshell behind him pushed the boy against the metal, humping him, kissing his neck. Spencer followed the show just long enough for his cock to stiffen in his jeans and then took a drink of his beer and followed Clare to a space along the back wall where they put their drinks on a ledge and watched the crowd.

Spencer took another drink of his beer, and as the bottle came back down, his attention focused on a kid standing just outside the DJ booth. His cropped dark hair, almost military in precision, didn’t distract from pretty eyes and sensual mouth. Already shirtless, though the heat in the room didn’t warrant it, he watched the crowd with a practiced casualness. Spencer had seen that same look in the guys at school when girls passed, only to watch their puffed-out chests fall as soon as the girls rounded a corner. Guys gearing up for the prowl, didn’t matter if they were gay or straight. With another glance, the guy turned to show off a tat as he picked up a drink from the ledge but didn’t bring it to his lips. Without the distraction of the music and conversation, Spencer’s senses were probably sharper than anyone’s in the room, and he smirked behind his bottle.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and Spencer turned to see Clare smiling at him.

“Dance with me,” she said. He couldn’t tell if she yelled it or not, but her cheeks flushed with excitement, and her body swayed with the pulsing beat that he’d probably never get out of his shoes. He hesitated and glanced at all the people around him. Two guys a few feet away were moving in perfect unison, grinding, punctuating the thumps with a few of their own. Spencer didn’t want to feel like an idiot on the very first time out. Clare put a hand on his cheek and turned his face to her.

“I’ll help you. Come on.” She took his hand, and he barely had time to put his beer on the ledge next to Eric, who gave him a thumbs-up, before they were on the floor. Awkward didn’t really cover how Spencer felt as he stood perfectly still in a sea of writhing bodies. Clare’s hand on his hip startled him, and he jerked his head sharply to look at her. Then they were moving. He watched the guys around him. He watched Clare. He counted out the rhythm in his head.

One-Two-Three-Four

One-Two-Three-Four

Nell tried to teach him to dance once when he was a child, but he didn’t see the point. Why try to celebrate music he couldn’t hear with a dance he couldn’t do? But as his body moved in time with the thumping, as he saw the grin on Clare’s face, he understood. Nell tried to teach him because it was fun; only as a kid he’d been too self-conscious to figure that out. Clare winked at him when he gave himself over to the feeling of freedom in his heart. She threw her arms around his neck and moved in a way that, had he been straight, might have made him blush. He laughed and joined her.

His head whipped around when he felt someone rub against his back. Military cut danced behind him, his carefully cultivated smile still in place. Spencer looked down at Clare, startled. She grinned at him, grabbed his hips, and turned him before disappearing back toward Paul and Eric.

Oh shit.

“Come on, straight boy, dance with me,” the boy said, putting a hand on Spencer’s ass and grinding against him. He’d lost his count in the surprise but found his timing again and moved. They were matched pretty well in height, so hips rubbed against hips, and chests rubbed against chests. The beer gave Spencer a bit of courage, and his hands slid around the guy’s waist and rested against bare skin. He kept his eyes on the pretty face as the pressure grew in his jeans. A niggling guilt grew in the back of his mind, that Aaron wouldn’t appreciate him grinding his cock against another guy, but they were in public. Nothing would happen.

“Oh, not so straight, are you, straight boy?”

“Why. Do. You. Keep. Saying. That.?”

The grin on the boy’s face grew, and he rubbed his own firm cock against Spencer’s through their jeans. They were in a gay club. He had no idea why the guy would think he was straight.

“You were dancing with your girlfriend, and you dance like a straight guy,” he said, and then his expression changed to a condescending little pout. “No rhythm.”

Spencer sighed, only the sound didn’t make it past his lips. Instead he put his lips close to the guy’s ear.

“It. Is. Hard. To. Dance. To. Music. You. Can. Not. Hear… I. Am. Deaf., Dickhead….” The typical changing expressions crossed the guy’s face: surprise, comprehension, shame. Spencer didn’t care. He pushed away and went back to his friends with a weight in his chest. He hated that feeling of not fitting in, of being other. Spencer had forgotten it some when his coworkers were so accepting, but it came back with full force around those normal people. Being with Aaron for so long, he’d forgotten what normal was.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, hoping with everything in him to see Aaron’s name.

[Clare] What happened?

Spencer looked over at Clare and shrugged. He didn’t want to harsh the mellow, so he took his bottle and went over to the bar. It was easy enough to order a drink when you held up an empty bottle. The bartender held up five fingers, not because he had any idea Spencer was deaf, but because no one could hear. Spencer gave him a ten and waved off the change.

Picking up the beer, he turned and almost walked into the guy standing next to him. He looked at Spencer, not in an unfriendly way, and smiled. Brilliant blue eyes twinkled even in the dim light of the club, and Spencer didn’t need to look up far to see them. Maybe just in the neighborhood of six feet tall, with a hard body under that T-shirt and jeans and closely cut brown hair with a five o’clock shadow that had turned into something more like eight or nine o’clock. Sexy, but not in a pretty boy sort of way, he definitely got Spencer’s attention.

“I said, you’re hot,” he said.

“Thank. You….” Spencer lifted his hand to his chin before his brain registered it, because he always signed and spoke when he talked with Aaron, with his dad, anyone. His whole life, it had been habit, especially a quick thank-you.

“Deaf?” the guy asked and signed at the same time.

Spencer nodded and pointed at the guy.

“My sister, I learned for her.” He spelled out the name R-Y-A-N and pointed to himself.

Spencer did the same and spelled out his own name.

“Want to dance?” Ryan asked, and Spencer pointed toward the dance floor with his bottle. Ryan’s hand slid into his, and he took another long swallow of beer, emptying half the bottle before following. They mingled with the other dancers, following the line of bodies jostling for position. When they passed a low table, Spencer drained another quarter of the bottle and left the last bit in the bottom, forgotten in a sea of other discarded bottles and plastic cups. Ryan pulled him over near the cage and turned to face him. Spencer’s heart pounded with the intensity in his gaze.

The song changed, and the thumping turned a bit slower. He almost didn’t register the difference until Ryan put a hand on his hip to guide them both in a slow, steady pulse. Their eyes met, and Spencer had a hard time looking away. He liked the hunger he saw in their crystalline depths. No one had looked at him like that in a long time, years, in fact. His dick reminded him of that as it began to press against his fly. They were barely touching, but Spencer felt Ryan’s presence like a tingle on his skin. Ryan winked and turned, pressing his ass against Spencer’s stiffening crotch. The thumping got harder, faster, and Spencer felt it in his thighs and his balls, his cock throbbing in time. Ryan’s sweet little ass stroked him through his jeans.

It had been so long.

So fucking long.

The second beer made him bold, and Spencer ran a hand along Ryan’s abs. He couldn’t hear Ryan moan, but he felt it in the way his body arched. Ryan’s hand snaked up into the back of Spencer’s hair. He buried his face in the hollow between Ryan’s shoulder and neck, not kissing, but nuzzling as he pulled back on Ryan’s middle and dry-humped him on the dance floor. Spencer closed his eyes, and nothing else existed except the hands on him, the body in front of him, and the buzzed euphoria in his head. Ryan’s hand landed on his, and he pushed it down to his own dick, God, he was hard—hard for Spencer.

In a flash Ryan turned, his arms winding around Spencer’s neck like a cobra strike, and then Ryan’s mouth captured his in a searing kiss. Spencer’s mouth opened, inviting the stranger in. God, it felt so good. He wanted to take Ryan into the bathroom and fuck him senseless. He wanted to give him the hottest blow job anyone ever had.

Ryan’s tongue explored his mouth, his hands tightening in Spencer’s hair.

God, yeah… harder… more.

Fuck, Aaron never let Spencer kiss him like….

Aaron.

Oh Jesus.

Gently, he disengaged himself from Ryan and took a deep breath, trying to will his cock down and his brain into focus. His heart fucking ached. They’d been together for almost three years, and he’d just kissed another guy. Humping him, practically fucking him on the dance floor, wanting to fuck him.

“I live a few blocks from here. Come home with me,” Ryan said, oblivious to the war raging in Spencer’s head. His cock and beer-fueled libido thought that was a fabulous idea, but his heart, his heart said no fucking way.

“I have a boyfriend. I am so sorry.”

Ryan’s face fell, but Spencer didn’t stop to apologize further. He didn’t even stop to tell Clare, he simply ran. The beer and the warmth in the room, the steady thump of sex in his groin confused everything inside his head. He wanted to go back and finish what he’d started with Ryan. Instead he passed the larger bar and headed for the door.

AARON’S PHONE rang on the nightstand next to him as he read. Startled, he picked it up and checked the display. Spencer? He had no idea how Spencer would hear him if he answered, but Spencer had never called him, not in all the time they’d been dating, so without even stopping to think, he answered.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

A horrible feeling crawled into the pit of his stomach, roiling with fear. Spencer wouldn’t call him. Someone else must have his phone. But why? Why would they call him? A second later his phone chirped, and a message came through.

[Spencer] I need to see you. I am on my way to dad’s. Can you meet me there in half an hour?

Aaron’s heart hammered. He couldn’t explain the fear, but Aaron didn’t deal well with change, and this was something entirely new in Spencer’s behavior.

[Aaron] Yeah. Allen left me his keys. I’ll take his car. Are you okay?

[Spencer] Don’t want to text and drive. See you in half an hour.

Aaron threw the covers back and crawled out of bed. It took about twenty minutes to drive to the house, and he didn’t want to keep Spencer waiting. Whatever pain Spencer was in, he didn’t want to prolong it, and Aaron could tell that something hurt the boy he loved more than anything. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he stopped in the bathroom just long enough to run a brush through his hair. He’d brushed his teeth before crawling into bed. Everything else would just have to be good enough.

At a little past midnight, no one rattled around downstairs, so Aaron left a note for his mother and grabbed Allen’s keys from the hook next to the door. When he got outside, he saw that his mother had parked behind Allen’s car, so it took him a good ten minutes to move his mother’s car, move Allen’s car, move his mother’s car back, and then take off for Spencer’s house. He arrived just minutes after Spencer, who sat in the car gazing out the driver’s side window, his eyes lost and unfocused.

Aaron put his hand on the glass, and Spencer started, brought out of his thoughts abruptly. He opened the door and climbed out of the car. He’d wrapped himself around Aaron before either of them could speak. Aaron loved the feel of being in Spencer’s arms, especially when Spencer stroked his face or his hair. Nothing in the world compared with that feeling, and it started to calm the terror in his heart until he felt Spencer’s hands shake.

Aaron pulled out of his arms just as they got to the doorstep.

“Didn’t you bring a bag?” Aaron asked when he saw Spencer carried nothing in his hands except keys, which he used to unlock the door. When they stepped inside, Spencer typed the code on a keypad to disable the alarm, and Aaron noticed he needed to type it twice.

“What is it?” he asked, putting a hand on Spencer’s face. Spencer covered Aaron’s hand on his face and closed his eyes for the briefest moment. He took Aaron’s hand and led him up the stairs to his old room. It took just a moment for him to peek in at his father to tell him they were there, but then Spencer closed the bedroom door and sat Aaron on the bed as if he were made of spun glass, something fragile and precious.

“I have to tell you something, and it is going to hurt both of us,” Spencer signed, not bothering to take the time to speak aloud. Aaron’s heart froze in his chest. He didn’t want to hurt. Especially not now with everything going on with the trial. Even with Jordan’s and Dr. Thomas’s help, he barely held on.

“I do not understand. What happened?”

“My friends from work took me dancing tonight, and it was great. I got a couple of beers, I danced with Clare, and no one else could hear either. It was almost like I was normal. Then this guy started talking to me. He could sign. He said his sister was deaf. Anyway, he asked me to dance, and I said yeah. I’d already had two beers, so I felt pretty good. We got out onto the floor and we were dancing pretty hot and heavy and then he… uhm… he… he… he kissed me. I… and I kissed him back before I realized what I was doing, and I hate myself so much right now. And I will understand if you hate me too, but I had to… I needed to tell you.” A tear slid down Spencer’s face, and then another.

Aaron sat on the bed, stunned. The pain in his chest expanded to fill him like an invisible vapor of jealousy, hurt, and shame. If he could just be a fucking boyfriend for Spencer, kiss him and blow him and fuck him like a normal guy, Spencer wouldn’t have kissed someone else.

God, Spencer kissed someone else.

“Did you get his number?” Aaron asked with morbid curiosity. Maybe Spencer could hook up with this guy again and have a normal relationship that didn’t include screaming and crying and being so fucked up he couldn’t have anything he wanted.

“Oh God, baby, of course not.” Spencer’s tears fell harder, and he choked out a sob. His issues hurt Spencer just as much as they hurt him. They couldn’t keep going on like they had been. Something needed to change.

Aaron stood up, trying to feel more confident than terrified, more like an adult than a frightened little boy. He put his hand on the side of Spencer’s face.

“I love you,” he said and slid his hand to the back of Spencer’s head, pulling him forward and capturing his lips. “I love you,” he whispered again against Spencer’s lips and licked them, asking to be let inside.

“Aaron.,” Spencer murmured into his mouth, and Aaron took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He wrapped his arms around Spencer’s neck and felt Spencer’s slide around his waist. For the moment, Spencer was his, and he had to keep him. He couldn’t function without Spencer. If that meant he needed more, then Aaron would give it to him.

He had to.

Aaron pulled Spencer’s shirt over his head, and then his own. The all-encompassing fear of losing Spencer overrode the shame he normally felt being naked. He forced the thought out of his head, drove it away with the force of his need to be normal, just this once, just for Spencer. Without breaking the kiss, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled both denim and the cotton underneath over his hips. Spencer sucked in a breath and pulled back, looking into Aaron’s face.

“I want this,” Aaron said, putting a finger over Spencer’s lips to forestall any argument. If Spencer gave him an out he would take it, and he couldn’t afford to take it. “Take off your clothes.” Aaron pulled everything else off, including his socks, and climbed naked into Spencer’s bed. Spencer stood silent, stunned for a long moment before he did as Aaron asked. God, Aaron loved Spencer’s skin, unbroken, pale, and beautiful in the moonlight streaming from the bedroom window. He wanted to tell Spencer, but the words wouldn’t come past the lump in his throat, the horrified little part of him that screamed he couldn’t do this.

Spencer pulled back the blankets and crawled into bed, gathering Aaron in his arms.

“I. Love. You. So. Much… God., Aaron., Please. Tell. Me. You. Forgive. Me….” The anguish in Spencer’s voice tore a hole in Aaron’s soul. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault; it was his.

“There is nothing to forgive,” Aaron said simply and turned Spencer’s face to the side, to press his lips to Spencer’s throat. Long, slow, openmouthed kisses along Spencer’s neck, his shoulder, made him moan and slide trembling fingers into Aaron’s hair. When Aaron’s mouth closed over one hard nipple, Spencer’s back arched. Aaron had never taken the initiative in their sexual relationship, ever. But he had to. He licked and sucked Spencer’s nipples until his lover bucked hips up into empty space, showing exactly what he needed to do. Aaron’s kisses moved lower, over Spencer’s abs, his hip, and then his cheek brushed Spencer’s cock.

“Please.,” Spencer whispered, a whimper Aaron felt as much as heard.

Get the kid to open his mouth.

Aaron opened his mouth as the first tear fell, taking in the head of Spencer’s cock. So fucking thankful Spencer couldn’t hear him, he let a sob escape when he pushed forward and took it deeper.

Yeah, you like that big dick, don’t you?

Choke on it.

Their voices were so loud in his head. Aaron used his own spit to lubricate his hand while he jacked Spencer off around his mouth. He kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t stand to see, couldn’t watch as Spencer changed into the man with the scar. There was no finesse in the act. He just sucked as hard as he could, bobbing his head like he saw on the porn Dr. Thomas had him watch, jerking Spencer off with the head of his cock in Aaron’s mouth.

It felt like forever, but it must have been enough.

“Aaron., Stop… Wait.,” Spencer choked out, but Aaron ignored his pleas, ignored his hands as they tried to push Aaron away. He held on, waiting for it. The man had pulled out and shot his disgusting load on Aaron’s face. He wouldn’t let it happen again. Sucking hard, he moved his hand faster.

Come on, Spencer, fucking do it already.

“Fuck.,” Spencer cried, and his hands tightened in his hair, just like the man’s had. It was one reason Aaron always kept his hair so short after that. He swore no one would do that to him again because he couldn’t stand the way it felt. Hot, slimy, sour spunk shot from Spencer’s cock and into Aaron’s mouth, and he nearly gagged. Forcing himself from the moment, Aaron waited until Spencer’s cock stopped spewing, stopped pulsing, and pushed himself away. He rolled off the bed and didn’t stop moving, not even when Spencer begged to return the favor, only then noticing that Aaron wasn’t hard.

He shut the bathroom door with a little more force than he meant to, slammed the faucet on full blast, and dropped to his knees in front of the toilet. The muscles in his stomach contracted, forcing everything up and out into the bowl, his dinner, the ice cream he’d shared with his mother after, and Spencer’s semen. It took a few minutes for the heaves to stop, for his hands to stop shaking, and for his legs to give out. While the faucet ran above him, he curled up on the floor with his back resting against the vanity. The first sob shook his body with the force of his pain.

The next was worse.

He didn’t even notice the water shutting off until silence filled the small room, and his sobs bounded harsh and loud off the walls. Spencer dropped to his knees next to Aaron and then fell onto the floor. It took just a moment for Spencer to pull Aaron into his lap.

“Sorry… So. Fucking. Sorry… Selfish… God. Damn. Selfish….” Spencer’s voice shook almost as much as his body as he cried around Aaron, naked and trembling and utterly devastated by Aaron’s pain.