But it wasn’t just his neighbor’s hot body that he wanted. Patrick had found himself digging all these little parts of Spencer that most people probably missed on first glance: the different types of laughs he had, the way he scratched at his left stubbled cheek when he asked a question, the passion he had for sports marketing (or that anyone was able to have for it).

  Patrick reminded himself that Spencer needed his help as he recuperated. It was a friendship of convenience. They didn’t hang out outside of working hours. Spencer didn’t invite him to go out with his friends, and neither did Patrick. They were neighbors who rode the train together. And sometimes met up for lunch. And went to Yankee Candle once.

  It didn’t matter that Patrick counted down the hours at work until he could meet Spencer to ride home together. (All this counting down was exhausting!) He was afraid of making things awkward and risking Spencer trying to navigate the El by himself because he didn’t want to be around Patrick.

  On August twentieth, Patrick celebrated another ten days down of the never-ending month by picking up fall pillows for his couch and a harvest wreath for his front door from Michael’s, which was all set up for fall, during his lunch break.

  “How many pillows did you get?” Spencer poked into his bag on the train ride home that evening. “How big is your couch?”

  “I don’t need you judging my decoration decisions.”

  “I’m gay. It’s in my genes.”

  They crossed the Chicago River. Dark clouds shifted over the sky. They filled Patrick’s heart with hope.

  “I think it’s going to rain all night,” Spencer said.

  “I know. Isn’t it exciting?” Gray and rainy was one step closer to fall. He could pretend it was chilly outside from his apartment. Spencer predictably rolled his eyes.

  “Summer thunderstorms are exciting,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he tried to one-up Patrick. It was, like many of his facial expressions, really cute. And Patrick tried really hard not to swoon.

  “It’s not going to thunder. The forecast said it’s just going to rain. A steady autumnal drizzle.”

  “Autumnal drizzle isn’t a thing.”

  “Well, I just made it one,” Patrick said. Spencer’s eyes hung on him an extra second too long. He was probably calculating just how much of a weirdo his neighbor was.

  That cat was out of that bag weeks ago. Patrick had no qualms about being himself in front of Spencer.

  “I’m going to watch a fall movie tonight,” Patrick said as the train weaved in between the fancy apartment buildings of River North.

  “What’s a fall movie? Fall has movies?”

  “I designate them as fall movies.”

  “What’s an example?”

  “Meet the Parents,” Patrick said without missing a beat. “It takes place in New York state in the fall. That movie is wall-to-wall fall foliage.”

  Spencer burst out with his can-you-believe-this-guy laugh, filling the exhausted quiet of the train.

  “But that’s not what I’m watching. That’s prime fall. I’m going with Moonrise Kingdom. By default, all Wes Anderson films have an autumnal aesthetic. Moonrise Kingdom takes place in early September, right on the cusp of fall. It’s the perfect time to watch.”

  Spencer laughed some more, his whole face animating. His smile was contagious, and Patrick didn’t want a vaccination. “I’ve never seen it.”

  “It’s good. There’s a love story and Tilda Swinton.”

  “I know who that is. Half the guys on my team are obsessed with her.” Spencer grazed his fingers through his short hair. Patrick caught a lingering whiff of his shampoo and became grateful he was sitting down.

  “Did you want to come over?” Patrick wanted to bite and swallow his own tongue. Had he really just blurted that out? It was probably the last thing Spencer wanted to do, but now Patrick had put him in the awkward position of politely declining. “You don’t have to. You have things to do.”

  “Sure.”

  Sure?

  “I’ll watch with you,” Spencer confirmed. “I have some microwave popcorn I can bring over.”

  Patrick could see the awkwardness criss-crossing Spencer’s face. He was being nice and was already regretting it. He would probably find a reason to cancel once he got back home, and that was fine by him. But in the meantime, Patrick had to continue to be nice back.

  “Sure,” he said. “What are you doing for dinner? I was going to order a pizza.”

  Because why not make this awkwardness as awkward as it can be?

  “Cool.” Spencer shrugged his shoulders.

  Patrick understood why the train’s windows couldn’t open. It would be too easy to fling one’s self out of there after such a cringe-y moment.

  Patrick did a quick cleanup of his apartment when he got home and went for an impromptu run. His whole body buzzed with nerves. Watching a movie was very date-like behavior, but this was very much not a date. It was a stalemate of Midwestern manners gone awry.

  Spencer knocked on the door. Patrick took a very deep breath. It was two neighbors hanging out. The couch was big enough for both of them.

  “I had some beer in the fridge.” Spencer held up a six pack. “Oktoberfest is all about beer, and it’s held in October, a prime fall month, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  Spencer’s musky scent caught Patrick’s nose. He wondered if Spencer put on cologne before he came over. Did that mean Patrick still smelled like the train?

  He brought the beer to the coffee table, next to the pizza. Spencer walked to the couch and plopped onto the chaise part of the sectional where he could rest his big, hulking boot cast. Patrick noticed how tall and strong he was, his chest and shoulders pulling at the fabric of his navy blue polo. He put a pillow under his cast.

  “Thanks,” Spencer said. Patrick detected hesitancy in how he said it, like maybe he was nervous about being here.

  Because he didn’t want to be here, Patrick reminded himself. He was guilted into it, probably worried that Patrick wouldn’t be able to help him commute if he had said no. Fortunately, Moonrise Kingdom was only ninety minutes, so he wouldn’t torture his neighbor for too long. He could control his heart beating in his ears and stiffening erection pulling at his shorts for a little while.

  Patrick put two pieces of pizza on a plate and passed it to Spencer, then he sat on the opposite end of the couch. He was as far from Spencer as the dimensions of his furniture would allow. He spooned the couch arm.

  “What are your thoughts on football?” Spencer asked.

  “I’ll watch the Super Bowl for the commercials.”

  “I mean in terms of fall.”

  “Oh, it’s peak fall. I love that other people watch it, especially weekend games. I remember I went to a few in college and Friday night games in high school, before I could appreciate its fall attributes. I love how seasonal it is. Basketball and baseball stretch for months. Football is only fall with a splash in January.”

  “We’re kicking off a campaign on the website around our football content on Monday. I thought you’d appreciate that.”

  He was thinking of me? Patrick faced the television and bit back a smile.

  “There’s this place just over the border in Wisconsin where my family and I used to go apple picking, and they make the best donuts I’ve ever had. They were fresh and warm and just melted in your mouth.”

  I could melt in your mouth, too.

  “We’ll have to go.” Patrick had a quick heart attack, then recovered. “Or, I’ll have to get the address so I can check it out. I tried going apple picking in California, but it was eighty degrees.”

  Patrick turned on the movie without saying a word. He had to switch topics because he just slipped in another forced date to his incapacitated neighbor. We’ll have to go apple picking. Patrick shook his head. He got up and flicked on the light since the sun was moments from fully setting.

  “You can turn it off,” Spencer said.

  Oh?

  “There’s a glare on the TV.”

  Oh.

  Patrick turned off the light. Hazy darkness encased the space. He tucked himself back into the far corner of the couch. Soon, with the movie going, Patrick’s nerves calmed down. They were two people watching a movie, and Spencer seemed to be enjoying it, laughing a bunch, each time music to Patrick’s ears. Patrick wanted nothing more than to leap across the couch and shove his tongue down his neighbor’s throat. Instead, he shoved another slice of pizza in his own mouth.

  Perhaps it was the contained nervous energy or the run he went on, but Patrick’s legs began to cramp about halfway into the movie. He stretched them out in front of him and rolled them in circles. His muscles flexed and stretched, sending bursts of relief up his legs.

  “Are you comfortable?” Spencer asked.

  “Yep.” Patrick pointed his heels to the ceiling, stretching his hamstrings.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I just get a little...it’s fine.”

  “Why don’t you get comfortable? You can lay across the couch.”

  Patrick did not turn down the opportunity to get his body closer to Spencer, since he was offering. He probably felt bad that he was taking the chaise. Patrick rested his head on the couch arm and curled up his legs and feet so that they stopped right at his neighbor.

  “Here.” Spencer took his feet into his lap. Patrick took a deep breath, trying not to enjoy this too much.

  “Thanks. Let me know if this isn’t comfortable for you.”

  “I’m good.” Spencer shot him a lazy smile that sent a current of heat from Patrick’s feet up to his head.

  Patrick poured all of his focus on the movie and not on the cute guy who had his socked feet in his lap. Well, he tried at least.

  But then Spencer’s thumb slid up his foot, and then it moved in circles, and then Spencer was full-on massaging Patrick’s feet. Slowly, unassumingly, as if it was something he had done a million times before while they watched TV.

  Was it weird that his neighbor was giving him a foot massage? Patrick wasn’t going to question it. Spencer didn’t say anything either. He didn’t look at Patrick to make sure it was cool.

  It was cool.

  Spencer’s strong fingers rubbed out stress and pain that had accumulated throughout from a day of wearing dress shoes. They moved with care and precision -- and a maybe a little bit of magic, too. A moan of affirmation escaped his lips, thanking Spencer for all he was doing.

  Patrick wondered how Spencer’s hands were dextrous enough to be everywhere, until he realized there was something else massaging his feet.

  A boner. Patrick felt Spencer’s hardness through his jeans, just under his feet. Rather than pull away, he moved his feet over Spencer’s cock. Spencer’s face contorted with pleasure, and he let out a wisp of a grunt that forced Patrick’s erection to strain against his own denim.

  They looked at each other with intent, an unspoken alignment that didn’t need to be sullied with words. Spencer’s eyes were heavy-lidded with lust. He gripped Patrick’s ankles and stroked his feet against his bulge, sending waves of need through Patrick, who let out a loud-and-proud moan. He took off Patrick’s socks, and the direct heat of his hand and crotch blazed right into Patrick’s skin.

  His toe flicked at the zipper of Spencer’s fly, giving an unsubtle nudge. He thought his own cock was going to break through his own fly as he watched Spencer give into the moment.

  His neighbor unzipped and whipped out his cock, rubbing it along the sole of Patrick’s feet while Patrick tried to massage it back. Spencer’s dick was thick and warm and Patrick quickly made a list in his head of all the things he wanted to do with it. Spencer rolled his head back and groaned, sending Patrick to another level.

  “Come here,” Spencer said hungrily.

  Patrick didn’t need to be asked twice. In a nanosecond, he crushed his mouth onto Spencer, want and need colliding in a perfect storm. Patrick dragged his fingers along his stubble, then up to his hair, then over his chest. They needed their own passport. Spencer grunted into his mouth as Patrick jerked his cock in firm strokes.

  Spencer palmed for Patrick’s fly. Not needing to be asked twice, Patrick ripped open his belt, undid his fly, and freed his own cock, which felt the rush of cool air followed by the heat of Spencer’s strong hand. Spencer slid his tongue into Patrick’s mouth, nearly causing Patrick to blow his load.

  Patrick took both their cocks in his hand.

  “Fuck,” Spencer grunted out as he bucked his hips up. He grabbed Patrick by the hair and continued dominating his mouth with his tongue. It was everything. The only thing that could’ve made it better was if Patrick had thought to light some candles beforehand.

  “Hold on.” Spencer reached for the remote control and shut off the TV. “I can’t have kids running around on screen while we do this.”

  Patrick nodded in agreement.

  “But the movie’s fall aesthetic was on point,” Spencer added with one of his lazy smiles that fueled Patrick’s lust. He could stare at this guy all day and all night. His brown eyes had darkness and a hint of danger in them that Patrick craved like water in a desert.

  Spencer let out the sexiest groan known to the human ear when Patrick began blowing him. Patrick groaned with pleasure, too, as his mouth filled with his neighbor’s manly taste. Spencer’s thick fingers threaded themselves through his blond hair, pushing him down gently.

  “Fuck, Patrick. God, yeah.”

  There was nothing sexier than hearing your name called out during sex. Patrick swallowed Spencer’s length to the base. Spencer let out another lusty groan as he thrust his hips up, burying himself balls deep inside Patrick’s mouth, the bitter taste of precum hitting his throat.

  “Oh, Patrick.”

  Patrick moaned back, in a place heaven hoped to reach.

  “Do you have condoms?”

  Patrick nodded his head while giving head, then realized he probably needed to be more obvious.

  “Yeah, I do,” he said. He and Spencer gave each other a deep, serious look, a silent agreement taking place. Patrick didn’t know if this was too fast, and he didn’t care. In that moment, he wanted Spencer inside him like he was a vital nutrient.

  Patrick darted to his bedroom for lube and condoms at his nightstand. Even though he wasn’t seeing anyone at the time, he was always prepared in case the night took him somewhere special. He came back to the living room and found Spencer shirtless and stroking himself. Volleyball did a body good. Patrick wanted to paint a mural tribute on his ceiling to his chest and abs.

  Patrick undressed and Spencer pulled him back to the couch. His lips were magnets, kissing Patrick without break and moaning into his mouth while he rolled on the condom. Spencer lubed himself up and slipped two slick fingers inside Patrick, sending him into the stratosphere. He could feel himself stretching to accommodate Spencer’s thick, assertive fingers. He couldn’t fucking wait for the real thing.

  Patrick straddled Spencer, looking over his shoulder quickly to make sure his broken foot was still elevated. He sank onto his fat cock, letting it impale him.

  “Yes,” Patrick whispered out as it breached his tight ring of muscle, eyes closed, savoring this moment.

  “Open your eyes,” Spencer growled.

  He was looking right at him, eyes overflowing with lust and need - and also some vulnerability. Patrick got the feeling Spencer was not the kind of guy who slept around. He seemed like someone who picked the people in his orbit wisely. He was letting Patrick into a special part of himself, and Patrick felt the weight of this connection -- even if it was only because his neighbor needed someone to help him commute.

  Their foreheads rested against each other as Patrick impaled himself on his rock hard cock. Their lips met every so often mid-hump. Patrick’s engorged cock rubbed precum against his neighbor’s abs, every nerve ending standing at attention.

  “I want to try something,” Spencer said. He tried to stand with Patrick wrapped around his hips. He got up mostly until it came time to put pressure on his broken foot. He winced in pain, and Patrick got off him.

  “Almost there,” Patrick said. “You don’t want to go back to the emergency room.”

  Spencer quirked an eyebrow. “How sturdy is your dining table?”

  Had sexier words ever been said?

  “It’s from Ikea. I put it together myself.”

  “Hmmm. We’ll take our chances.”

  “You doubt my craftsmanship?”

  Spencer kissed him. “I’ve got an idea.”

  He limped to the dining table, his jeans bunched at his knees, giving Patrick a glorious view of his beautiful ass. He gave it a good, hard slap. It was like plucking a guitar string.

  “Thanks,” Spencer said with a laugh. He rested the knee with his broken foot on a dining chair, similar to a knee scooter, and patted the dining table.

  Patrick bit back a smile, anticipation building like a kid about to ride a roller coaster. He lay down on his Ikea dining table, which wobbled in response.

  “One of the legs is shorter than the others,” Patrick said.

  “Again, we’ll take our chances.”

  He threw Patrick’s legs over his head and slid inside his tight hole. Patrick croaked out some alien sound of abject pleasure. His hand immediately went to his own cock to stroke.

  He didn’t last long.

  How could he? He had a sexy, shirtless man above him, pushing the limits of an Ikea table, staring down at him with an intense look that was equal parts “I will ravage you” and “I will cuddle you,” pummeling his ass in just the right places.

  Patrick released all over his stomach, and a little bit made it up to his chin. Spencer leaned down and licked that little bit off. Patrick dug his fingers into his back, not letting him go, wanting him close so he could feel Spencer’s muscles tighten, hear his helpless moans against his ear as he emptied himself into the condom.

  He braced himself for what came next. He expected Spencer to leave - maybe a freak out about what happened, maybe he got his rocks off and was bored.

 

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