Twenty-Two #2
We slip out the back, the cool air biting after the disco haze inside.
Spence gestures to the right, and up ahead, I spot a dog park—chain-link fence, a couple benches, strays of golden sunlight splintering through budding trees as the sun dips low.
The place is empty but for a couple dogs barreling after a frisbee, their owners trailing far behind. It’s quiet, safe.
I stuff my hands in my pockets, suddenly itchy to fill the silence.
“So, that was a nice ceremony. And who woulda thought a roller rink could turn into a killer wedding reception, right? I mean, Anthony’s always had that knack for entertaining.
Did you see the roller skate centerpieces? Like, who thinks of this stuff—”
Spence cuts me off, voice even, but not unkind. “Ryan. It’s usually adorable when you ramble, but you’re not acting like yourself today. What’s going on with you?”
I could play it off. Pretend it’s nothing.
Pretend I wasn’t just watching two men promise forever, open and fearless, while I’m stuck living on the sidelines.
But I’ve let Spence in more than I should—over these months, he’s become someone I actually trust. Someone I want to be honest with.
Even if we’re “nothing,” we know each other now in ways that matter.
I know I’m not supposed to catch feelings, but moments like this—him pulling me out to check in—make it so damn hard not to want more.
I shrug, looking away. “I’m fine, really. Weddings are just hard when you don’t have the option to have that kind of happiness.”
He glances over at me as we walk a little deeper into the park, the hush of dusk around us. “You always have options, Ryan. You just have to weigh the risks.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You make it sound like a legal transaction. It’s not always black and white, Spence.”
He shrugs, that signature edge in his tone. “Everything has gray areas, Ryan. I’m just saying you always have a choice.”
I sigh because maybe he’s right, but it doesn’t feel that simple. “You’re right. I do have a choice. It’s just a messy one to make.”
“Your career?”
“Mm. Not just that,” I tell him. “I could come out. I’m sure I could navigate it with Anthony’s help.”
Spence hums. “What is it, then?”
“It’s mostly my father,” I admit, blowing out a breath. Then I decide to be a little vulnerable. “He caught me with my best friend’s dick down my throat when I was eighteen.”
“Oh,” he winces. “That couldn’t have gone over well with him.”
“It didn’t,” I say, scoffing. “And he threatened to end me if I ever embarrassed him or the family name with my perversion. And believe me, he’ll make good on it.”
“Ryan—"
Today has already been a lot, so I interrupt him to distract from my own bullshit. “Spence?”
He grunts, “Hmm?”
I glance sidelong at him. “Why don’t you kiss?”
He stiffens but keeps walking. “Why are you asking me that right now?”
I shrug, trying to play it casual. “Dunno. We’re talking about choices, and that’s… a choice. So are your other rules.”
He looks up at the sky and groans, all snark. “Ryan—”
But I keep going, needing to know. “I mean, I get the no feelings thing. I’m not in a position to offer anything real either. I’d have to ask someone to hide and I can’t do that. But kissing and cuddles? That’s just fun, right?”
He stops walking, turning to face me square on. “No, it isn’t. Kissing and cuddling leads to the feelings. I don’t want any part of that.”
I tilt my head, studying him. My voice drops, soft. “Who hurt you, Perfect?”
His eyes widen and I see the way he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. Oh yeah, someone hurt him bad. He blows out a breath. “He wasn’t the only one to hurt me, but he was the last.”
The pain on his face almost undoes me. I have to shove my hands deeper in my pockets to keep from reaching for him.
“Who was he?” I ask, teeth clenched.
Spence looks away, like he can’t bear to meet my eyes. “Just some guy in college. Travis. He was a star athlete. Closeted.”
I swallow, some pieces falling into place.
He keeps going, voice rough. “We snuck around for six months. Spent nearly every night in my dorm room—” He pauses, breath catching. “Kissing. Cuddling.”
The look on his face makes my chest ache.
He pushes on, “I thought we were the real deal, but the hiding started to bother me. Then, one night, he told me he was going to come out to his family by taking me to their annual gala. His family—you would recognize their last name.”
My hands ball into fists, every muscle in my body tense, but I don’t say anything.
“Anyway, when he didn’t show up to get me the night of the gala, I went to his apartment and watched as he left with some girl. Someone he wasn’t ashamed of.”
Red flashes behind my eyes. I take my hands out of my pockets, fists clenched at my sides. “Where is he?”
Spence snaps his head over, almost startled. “What?”
“Where is this Travis now?” I spit out his name like poison. “I’d like a fucking word.”
Spence actually laughs, sharp and a little bitter. “Fuck if I know. Even if I did—”
I cut him off. “What’s his last name?”
He sighs. “Ryan, leave it. That feels like a lifetime ago—and that Spencer? That was a person I don’t identify with anymore.”
I cross my arms, stubborn. “You may think that, but you’re still carrying that version of yourself. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have all these rules.”
He groans, breath puffing out. “Can we just be done with this conversation, please?”
“Fine. For now.”
There’s a beat. The tension could be cut with a knife, and I feel the need to break it. I let a smirk start to break through, drop my arms so I can step close, toe to toe. I grab him by the waist and haul him in, pressing our bodies together, cock to cock, daring him to let go, just for a second.
His eyes go a little wide, and I see the panic flicker there, but I don’t care.
I lean in, lick a stripe up his neck, then whisper, “How about we talk about going back to your place and you getting that talented tongue and magic dick inside of me for a couple hours, hmm?” Then I nip at his earlobe, sucking gently.
He rumbles, low and hungry. “I think that can be arranged.” He pauses, then adds, snarky and surprisingly soft all at once, “As long as you cook for me after.”
I step back, laughing, shoving at his chest. “You asshole! You only want me for my culinary mastery.”
He shrugs, unrepentant. “I’d be a fool not to take advantage. You really are talented, Ry.”
That flutter in my chest comes back, bright and dangerous, but I push it down. Keep it playful, Butters. Keep it safe.
Spence grins, all teeth. “And I just had groceries delivered.”
I narrow my eyes. “So, you planned for this, then. Fucking me after the wedding.”
He laughs, kicks at the grass, shifts his weight. “Yeah. Something like that.”
I carefully keep my tone light, teasing. “And I’m sure that grocery order didn’t include breakfast food.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Nope.”
I shrug, stepping past him, smirking over my shoulder. “Too bad. I give incredible morning head.”
I only look back once. He’s watching me, lips curled up, eyes sharp and just a little bit soft. And for one impossible moment, I let myself pretend we’re walking home together for real, no secrets, no hiding, no rules but our own.
But it’s just a fantasy. So, I keep walking, into the dusk, and hope the future has more of this—more of him, more of us—than either of us will admit out loud.