Last episode for Grayson. Just a reminder - this is part of a single story so I would recommend reading them in order.
*****
The next day we all head out to brunch except for Spence. He claims a hangover, but it blatantly isn't true. Once again, I'm left wondering if our friendship can cope with my stupid emotions. None of this would be a problem if I could just get over the fact that me and him isn't a thing, not the way I would like, anyway. I've never had a situation like this before. Yeah, I can be attracted to someone who is straight, but it's never a problem. Their inherent straightness is always a good roadblock to developing actual romantic feelings. The strength of friendship between Spence and I is short circuiting my brain.
I'm bad company at brunch, and I note that the others are sharing pointed looks when they think I can't see. As I push the rocket salad around on my plate I can hear Vic and James whispering heatedly.
"You have to say it," James hisses.
"I can't," Vic whines quietly, "you know it's not mine."
"What are you two getting so het up about?" Jay asks.
James and Vic start guiltily and we all watch them. James is looking pointedly at Vic and he nudges her.
"Fine," she says, exasperated, "we saw you last night, Gray, with Spence."
"It's no big deal," I try to sound casual, "he was just helping me out."
"Yeah, but in a pretty major way," James points out.
"Listen, he said it wasn't a big deal for him. He knows his own mind best," I defend.
"That's just it..."
Vic seems unsure of how to continue and James nudges her again.
"It's not my place," she hisses at him, and then turns back to me. "Listen, Spence has a ... a secret, I guess. It's not up to me to tell everyone... but you should speak to him, Gray, see if he'll tell you what it is. It... it could be important. But please don't push him too hard. I feel bad enough even telling you this much."
I can't pretend I'm not intrigued. But the way James and Vic are acting it feels like whatever Spence's big secret is he might need a friend over it.
*****
I head to the house on my own, the others claiming that they want to visit to the city after brunch. I know they're giving me space to work on Spence, and I appreciate it. Though it would be easier if Vic had just told us what the big deal was. She knows we'd support him whatever it is, although I understand her not wanting to spill someone else's personal news.
The house is quiet when I arrive, and I wonder if Spence has gone out. I head upstairs to my room and am about to walk past Spence's bedroom door when I hear a noise; that's where he is. I knock on the slightly ajar door but there's no response. My knock causes it to swing open a little further and I gasp. Spence is laying, completely naked, on his bed, softly jerking his erect cock. Fuck, he is breathtaking.
His eyes are closed, and I can see he's wearing ear buds. I stare for a moment at his strong biceps as they twist with the motion of his hand. His rippling six-pack is coated in a light sheen of sweat and I can tell that he's been taking his time, building tension. My eye travels down to the trail of hair towards his cock. It's beautiful; smooth, and big, and so, so hard now.
I have to leave. God, standing here for this long is already crossing a huge line. He isn't expecting an audience and this is a major invasion. As I go to pull the door closed I hear him murmur.
"Oh, yes, Grayson."
What the fuck? Did he just say my name? Did he see me? I glance again; no, he definitely still has his eyes closed. It was a statement of passion.
I back away from the door, my head reeling. Then I almost breath a sigh of relief. I realize I must have misheard him. He must have said 'Stacey' - of course. That would make sense, although it doesn't make me happy. I can hear the unmistakable sounds of him reaching his crescendo on the far side of the door and I sneak back to the stairs.
Feeling a little cheeky, I stomp up the stairs loudly and call out.
"Spencer, are you here?"
"Yeah, hang on a minute, don't come in!" his panicked voice comes back, and I giggle to myself, but hang back until he shouts that I can come in a few moments later.
I stand in his doorway and meet his eyes. His normally neat hair is mussed and his cheeks are flushed. His full lower lip is wet and red, like he's been biting it, and I have to focus to take the image of why from my mind. He's wearing soft black trackpants and nothing else, and I glance at the crumpled towel next to him on the bed. I want to cross the room and push him back onto the bed, I can just imagine the taste of his warm mouth. I really am a mess.
"Listen, Spence, I'm sorry about last night, I overreacted..." I begin.
"No... no you didn't," he interrupts, "it was selfish of me to not consider how you might feel about me kissing you."
I don't say anything for a moment, and he continues.
"I know you like me... as more than a friend. I was acting like it wasn't important, hiding from that for a long time. Stacey...you know?"
I nod, and I wonder if he's going to tell me we can't be friends if I can't get my feelings in check. Then everything changes in a moment.
"But the fact is, I was feeling the same way. About you," he stops, and I just stare at him.
"That's why I pretended I didn't care about it for so long. But every time you complimented me, or gave me a hug, or just looked into my eyes, I thought I was going to do a weird combination of exploding and imploding..." he stops, waiting for my reaction with a hopeful look in his eyes.
"But you can't like me the way I like you. You're straight."
God, I'm dumb.
"Okay, I have to tell you something. I didn't tell you because I was worried you'd hate me..."
"I couldn't," I insist.