ReignOverMe Read online

  They continue to walk, the silence settling between them like a transparent but sturdy wall and they’re outside Spencer’s school before Dmitri finally speaks again.

  “You used to let me hold your hand whenever I wanted to. You used to let me touch you—hell, you used to practically beg me to. You would have never pulled away from me then.”

  There’s an almost petulant undertone to Dmitri’s voice that pisses Spencer off all over again and he whirls on Dmitri, all flashing geyes and flailing hands, his messenger bag thumping against the backs of his legs.

  “You just don’t fucking get it, do you, Dmitri? Things are different now, so different that I’m having a hard time finding out where to begin. Yes, I used to let you touch me and hold my hand and stroke my hair. Hell, I used to sit at your feet like a fucking dog and live for the next kind word you had to give me! That was before you threw me the fuck away and disappeared. So excuse the hell out of me if I’m not eager to jump back on that boat as soon as you show back up almost a decade later without even the courtesy of a goddamn apology.”

  Spencer’s agitated and angry and he can feel a headache coming on and it’s not even seven-thirty yet so he’s still got to get through the entire day. His hands come up and tangle in his own hair for a moment out of sheer frustration and he has to bite back the urge to scream since they’re right outside his school. That would be a level of unprofessional that he’s just not comfortable with.

  “Spencer…”

  “Just, just don’t, Dmitri. Don’t. We’ve had this conversation at least twice now that I can think of and you still don’t get it. I’m beginning to believe that you never will and if that’s the case then the best thing you can do for the both of us is to turn around, walk back to your car and just drive away and never come back. If you can’t understand that things have changed, that I’m not the same weak child that I was when it comes to you, then I was right in the first place. We’ll never have so much as a civil future together, not to mention the type of future you seem to be hinting at!”

  Spencer doesn’t even give Dmitri the opportunity to respond, he just leaves the blue-eyed male gaping on the sidewalk as he bounds up the steps and into the school building. He’s getting good at leaving Dmitri behind and it feels like victory in a way that’s almost wrong, in a way he would have never even considered years ago but one that he’s almost pleased with now.

  If it takes him more than a few hours to get the hurt look Dmitri had been wearing out of his mind, that’s his business and no one else’s.

  Chapter Nine

  It’s almost a week before Spencer sees Dmitri again and it doesn’t go at all the way he had imagined it would, not that he’s willing to own up to imagining it at all in the first place. In fact it couldn’t happen any more different if he personally tried to arrange it that way. Dmitri’s outside the school again and his face is set with such a stony expression that Spencer is about to break his unspoken rule and speak to him first when someone calling his name from behind him catches his attention.

  “Spencer!”

  It’s Gregory, the Chemistry teacher who’s younger than Spencer by only a year or so and is all big eyes and puppy-dog eagerness matched with sweater vests and floppy brown hair. He’s a walking, talking stereotype really, but he’s so chatty and friendly with everyone that Spencer can only smile fondly at his enthusiasm and battle the serious urge to make sure he has his lunch money and doesn’t talk to strangers.

  “Greg. Did you need something?”

  “Yeah I wanted to make sure we were still on for dinner tomorrow night? I’ll make that chicken you like so much, if you want?”

  The younger man is nearly vibrating with excitement and all Spencer can do is huff out a small laugh at his familiar antics.

  Greg’s wonderful at the sciences but the art of spelling and proper sentence structure has a tendency to escape him, so they’ve set up a sort of barter system. Spencer helps the man grade the biweekly essays that are mandatory in his class and in exchange he gets a home cooked meal that almost moves him to tears. Apparently cooking is a sort of science so Greg wasted no time in mastering that field of study as well.

  It’s an arrangement that’s been mutually beneficial and extremely pleasing for the past two years. It’s also one Spencer realizes he’s missed over the last couple of months what with Marko’s funeral and having to deal with the aftermath. Greg has been very understanding and when he approached Spencer the day before Spencer was all too glad to get back yet another part of his normal routine.

  “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for anything, and if you make that chicken again I’ll be your slave for eternity instead of just for the night.”

  It’s the normal way their exchanges go down, Greg promising food and Spencer swearing servitude. It’s one of the few ways that Spencer can joke in that manner without being painfully reminded of the only person he’d ever truly served.

  “Well I’d be a fool to pass up that kind of offer! I’ll see you tomorrow night then, around the same time as always?”

  “I’ll be there with bells on, my friend.”

  Spencer grins a bit at their byplay, his friendship with Greg a casual and pleasing thing that makes him feel less alone and more like an actual functioning human being.

  He waves the other man off and turns to back around to face Dmitri, but he’s surprised to see the spot where the blue-eyed devil normally stands vacant. His eyes search the surrounding area for a moment despite the fact that he knows he should be pleased with Dmitri’s absence. Instead he’s almost vaguely unsettled and he can’t stop the way disappointment curls through his stomach. He’s almost grown used to Dmitri walking him home and the past week without him has found Spencer irritable despite his best intentions. Seeing the other man again only to have him disappear without a word does nothing to improve his mood.

  He refuses to admit that he takes a cab back home because he’s grown used to the feel of Dmitri walking beside him through the late afternoon crowds and he no longer enjoys his walks home without him.

  * * * *

  Dmitri doesn’t show the next morning or afternoon either, and Spencer pushes down the worry that wants to build up in his gut. The week before he was able to ignore the feeling by burying himself in his residual anger over Dmitri’s apparent inability to apologize properly, but he doesn’t have that luxury this time.

  Still he manages to shake it off, manages to remind himself that he’s done fine in the life he has now without Dmitri, that his happiness no longer depends on seeing his tall, muscular form every day.

  So he drags himself to Greg’s small apartment and forces himself to relax to the smell of cooking food and the hum of good conversation. He marks essays and laughs along with Greg’s girlfriend Randi at Greg’s outdated references and hopelessly unfunny Chemistry jokes. By the end of the evening he’s pleasantly buzzed from too much wine and laughter as he wraps his scarf around his neck and hails a cab back to his townhouse.

  His shirt’s unbuttoned and he’s heading to the shower when the chime going off at his front door causes his brow to furrow in confusion. He’s not expecting company and normally he’d be too leery to answer the door at this time of night but it could be an emergency so he turns and trots to the door anyway. A glance through the peep hole shows only a down turned head full of thick, messy black hair that he immediately recognizes.

  Dmitri.

  Spencer sighs, rolls his shoulders back and straightens his spine before he unlocks the door and pulls it open with a tug, words of reproach on his tongue. They die a quick death though when Dmitri raises his head at the sound of the door opening and Spencer gets a good look at his face. His blue eyes are bloodshot and black circled, his face shadowed with a what looks to be about two days’ worth of stubble and his clothes, a blue striped button down and black dress pants, are wrinkled and worn.

  He looks like he’s been ridden hard and put away wet and when he staggers forward into the threshold
of the door Spencer finds out that he smells like it as well, the stench of alcohol wafting out of his pores.

  Spencer wants to be mad at him, wants to be pissed at the fact that Dmitri pulled another disappearing act, and then had the nerve to show up at his door rumpled and drunk.

  He wants to be, but Dmitri looks so fragile, so pathetic really, that he just can’t.

  “Spencer…”

  Dmitri’s voice is slurred and pleading and it grabs at something in Spencer’s chest that makes him sigh and reach out to grasp the drunken man by the elbow and pull him inside. Sometimes he’s entirely too nice for his own good but it’s a habit that he has a difficult time breaking.

  Chapter Ten

  “How in the hell did you manage to get here in this state?” Spencer grumbles at Dmitri’s swaying form as he props him against the wall beside the door so that he can lock back up again.

  He has to move fast and wrap his hands back around Dmitri’s elbows when he lists drunkenly to the side and almost goes down. Instead he ends up with an armful of drunken man who nearly dwarfs him and causes him to stagger unsteadily as he tries to make his way to the sofa with Dmitri in tow.

  “Cab…bartender…home…only wanted…you…” Dmitri’s mumbling, his words garbled and barely distinguishable but his hands are fully functional and busy roving over every part of Spencer they can reach.

  They’re even hotter than normal against the bare skin revealed by Spencer’s unbuttoned shirt and they cause him to tremble despite himself. Spencer almost hits his knees when one wraps around the nape of his neck and squeezes lightly. The only thing keeping him on his feet is his own determination and the knowledge that if he falls Dmitri, falls with him.

  “Dmitri, stop! You’re going to cause both of us to fall.”

  He tries to keep his voice firm but he can’t help the way it quavers at the feel of Dmitri’s hands on him after so long. He tries to ignore it, to focus on getting the larger man to sit down but it’s made impossible when Dmitri wraps his arms tightly around his waist and reels him in even closer.

  “Already fell…fell when we were kids…” Dmitri’s mumbling still but this time the words are said almost in Spencer’s ear and they make his heart melt just a little bit more.

  Dmitri’s impossible to escape but Spencer manages to shuffle them around to the sofa, but when he urges the larger man to sit Dmitri takes him down as well.

  So he ends up with his knees on either side of Dmitri’s hips, his shirt open and his chest exposed staring down at Dmitri’s curved back as he nuzzles his nose against the sensitive skin of Spencer’s neck. Spencer can feel his cock begin to lengthen and harden when Dmitri begins to layer short nipping kisses down the length of his neck and down across his collar bone muttering almost to himself the whole time.

  “Found you…finally found you…almost gave up…found you, Spencer…found you.”

  Spencer’s hands rise and tangle in Dmitri’s hair, holding him close for a fraction of a second almost against his will before he comes back to himself and tries to tug the larger man back and away. Dmitri resists and his hands tighten a fraction where they’re clutching at Spencer’s hips and he makes a displeased noise deep in his throat. Spencer tugs a bit harsher at the hair in his grip and can only moan brokenly when Dmitri takes it as a sign to sink his teeth into the flesh of his shoulder.

  “Dmitri.” Spencer whimpers the name into the still air around them and Dmitri goes mad at the sound of it.

  Almost before he realizes what’s happening Spencer is completely shirtless, his now naked back hitting the soft fabric of the sofa with enough force to knock the air out of him for a moment. Dmitri follows him down immediately, dark head bending and mouth latching onto Spencer’s already pebbled nipple before he can protest their sudden position change. His hands scrabble at Dmitri’s shoulders, a desperate attempt to find something to hold onto as Dmitri applies teeth and tongue to his flesh with fierce concentration.

  He knows he should stop him, knows that Dmitri is drunk and that sex will solve nothing between them but just when he goes to say something Dmitri lifts his head and slants his mouth across Spencer’s and he’s lost. They kiss like fire, raging and all consuming, a war of lips and tongues and even teeth, Dmitri seeking to dominate and Spencer refusing to submit. A hand comes up to pluck harshly at his enflamed nipple, scoring it with a nail and twisting it viciously, giving the pleasure an edge of pain that shoots Spencer into full hardness immediately. It takes the breath from Spencer’s lungs, drawing everything that he is up and out until he feels like if he isn’t careful Dmitri will devour him, over take him like he once did.

  It frightens him, the intensity of it all, and Dmitri seems to sense that fear even through the alcohol because he softens the kiss, gentles it until it’s no longer a battle but a dance instead. A gentle meshing of lips, a lazy intertwining of tongues, the soft nipping of teeth that is done with such exquisite gentleness that it strikes at Spencer deeper than the fiery passion of before. The rough and unrelenting fingers that have been assaulting his chest gentle and begin to brush soothingly across his skin. When Dmitri finally pulls away, finally leaves Spencer’s lips red and swollen they’re both breathless, pupils blown wide and faces flushed.

  Spencer stares up at him, takes in the sheer want that is etched across the other man’s face and reflected in blue eyes darkened from sky to sea. Dmitri watches Spencer watch him and his face softens just slightly and the hand that’s been brushing slowly across his nipple comes up to cup his jaw gently.

  “Spencer.”

  It’s more than just his name, it’s a request and a question, a plea for permission that Spencer is unable to ignore. No matter what he tells himself, he wants this as well, wants this just in case he can’t have anything else. Here in the night with alcohol clouding Dmitri’s senses and no one around to judge him, it’s the perfect opportunity to take what he wants with both hands. He can regret it later, can watch as Dmitri either stays or turns his back on him again. He’ll have plenty of time to regret or enjoy this later, to either rip himself apart over it or savor the memory he’s about to make.

  Either way anything else can wait till the morning.

  Spencer mirrors Dmitri’s gesture and cups his unshaven jaw in his hand. His heart skips a beat at the way Dmitri leans into his palm, eyes slipping closed for a moment as if he’s savoring the feeling. Spencer raises himself up as best he can, watches those too blue eyes snap open at his movement, and presses his lips gently against Dmitri’s once again.

  Their eyes slip closed simultaneously and Dmitri groans harshly against his mouth and the hand cupping his jaw moves upwards to tangle gently in his hair. They kiss leisurely for a few moments before desire spurs them forward and once again things speed up and they catch flame together.

  Spencer’s moaning a helpless sound that he should feel ashamed of but he doesn’t because Dmitri is no better off. The larger man is growling low in his throat, a guttural noise that causes something inside of Spencer to twist and writhe in need. His moan catches in his throat though when Dmitri lines their bodies up and grinds his hips down against Spencer’s for the first time and reveals that he’s painfully hard as well.

  They’re kissing even more fiercely after that, Dmitri’s tongue dominating Spencer’s in such a way that Spencer can no longer find the urge to fight it. The need to let Dmitri take control is too strong to fight, it’s what he wants, what he’s always wanted on some level so he finally submits and lets the other man take over.

  Like he can feel the submission, like he knows what’s just went through his mind Dmitri growls even louder than before and the hand he has in Spencer’s hair tightens almost painfully. Spencer bucks upwards almost without a thought and it causes their cocks to brush against each other once again, so brief and yet painfully pleasurable.

  Dmitri is shifting, rolling them to the side and Spencer flails because he knows they’re going to tumble straight off the sofa but that seems to be Dmi
tri’s intention in first place so he’s powerless to stop it. Dmitri manages to roll them so that he takes the impact from the short fall and they’re immediately rolling across the floor, hands clawing at each other’s clothes as they go. They keep going until they’re in the middle of the floor, Spencer’s back pressed down into the thick carpeting and Dmitri’s body blanketing him, all muscles and delicious heat. They part just enough to allow Dmitri’s shirt to disappear and Spencer can hardly believe how good all of that smooth skin feels beneath his fingertips.

  One of his hands drifts down between them to pluck at a nipple and Dmitri retaliates with a sharp nip to the throat that leaves Spencer seeing stars before they’re kissing again. Spencer’s hard, his cock pressing painfully against the teeth of his zipper and he can feel that Dmitri’s in the same predicament that he is every time their hips meet. The friction is delicious and yet it leaves him wanting more, leaves him craving skin against skin, the feel of their bodies sliding against each other with nothing between them.

  Dmitri seems just as determined because he’s rearing back, going up onto his knees and fumbling to get Spencer’s pants undone and off, taking his boxers with him in the same movement. Not to be outdone, Spencer adds his own hands to the mix, snatching at the catch on Dmitri’s slacks and pushing them down muscled thighs as far as they will go, breath catching in his throat as Dmitri kicks them off.

  Dmitri is breathtaking, his body tanned and gloriously smooth, his muscles well defined and begging to be touched and tasted. His cock is long and thick, straining up towards his stomach with the force of his desire and Spencer doesn’t even try to hold back the whimper that rises in his throat.

  He hears Dmitri laugh, a low raspy noise that makes his own cock twitch in longing an action that makes blue eyes zero in on it. Spencer has only a seconds warning, a sly smirk slipping across Dmitri’s face before he’s lowering himself down onto his elbows between Spencer’s spread thighs and swallowing down his cock without a seconds hesitation.