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doublethepainAn entire day has already passed, and Spencer is no closer to being used to walking on these legs than he'd been when April had helped him reach the shore. Each step is pure agony and for that alone, he is admittedly relieved that his voice has been taken from him for the time being; but in spite of his fears that Joel would tire of him quickly, that the prince would send him on his way after seeing him fed and clothed, he's been invited to stay in the palace for-- well, for as long as any of the royal family sees fit, he supposes.
Joel had demanded--in as princely a way as possible, of course--that Spencer be seen to, and the workers in the palace had been quick about putting him in a shirt and trousers that he supposes fit him well enough, not that it matters much to him, seeing as he's never had to wear clothes before in the first place. Joel hadn't left his side once, though he'd been very gentlemanly about keeping his back turned while Spencer had been helped into his clothes, and though they hadn't been able to converse, Spencer doesn't think he's ever felt more attended to in his life. The way Joel had looked at him as the evening continued on, as he'd sat across from him at the table while Spencer had been unapologetic about shoveling the stew laid before him into his mouth, is unlike anything he's ever known.
Only the introduction to the king and queen had made him flush terribly, though they'd been nothing but kind to him upon discovering he had been the one to save their son from drowning the day before. Joel's father had laid a gentle hand on his shoulder while his mother had offered a near tearful thanks punctuated with a kiss to his cheek and that had been that before Spencer had been ushered off to a large room with a bed that could certainly fit three of him comfortably on it.
Worse than the pain in his legs had been when the time had come to bid farewell to Joel for the evening, though he'd been assured that if he needed anything, he could call for him anytime. Spencer had slept soundly, though, exhausted from everything that had happened in so short a time, and by the time he'd woken up the next morning, he'd been more than ready to face the day. Now, he's exploring the marketplace, brought here by carriage and equipped with a cane meant to assist him with his walking. Joel had promised to come find him after he'd finished with what Spencer can only assume are his princely duties, though he hasn't the faintest idea what that might entail, but he's content with that for now. He can almost grow numb, in fact, to each sharp jolt that shoots through him with every foot forward as he admires the jewels and fruits and vegetables that are all for sale here, smiling and shaking his head at every merchant who calls out to him.
He has thirteen days left to make being human count for something; but in this moment, Spencer just wants to allow himself the chance to enjoy it the best he can.
[OOC: Open to all!]
Joel had demanded--in as princely a way as possible, of course--that Spencer be seen to, and the workers in the palace had been quick about putting him in a shirt and trousers that he supposes fit him well enough, not that it matters much to him, seeing as he's never had to wear clothes before in the first place. Joel hadn't left his side once, though he'd been very gentlemanly about keeping his back turned while Spencer had been helped into his clothes, and though they hadn't been able to converse, Spencer doesn't think he's ever felt more attended to in his life. The way Joel had looked at him as the evening continued on, as he'd sat across from him at the table while Spencer had been unapologetic about shoveling the stew laid before him into his mouth, is unlike anything he's ever known.
Only the introduction to the king and queen had made him flush terribly, though they'd been nothing but kind to him upon discovering he had been the one to save their son from drowning the day before. Joel's father had laid a gentle hand on his shoulder while his mother had offered a near tearful thanks punctuated with a kiss to his cheek and that had been that before Spencer had been ushered off to a large room with a bed that could certainly fit three of him comfortably on it.
Worse than the pain in his legs had been when the time had come to bid farewell to Joel for the evening, though he'd been assured that if he needed anything, he could call for him anytime. Spencer had slept soundly, though, exhausted from everything that had happened in so short a time, and by the time he'd woken up the next morning, he'd been more than ready to face the day. Now, he's exploring the marketplace, brought here by carriage and equipped with a cane meant to assist him with his walking. Joel had promised to come find him after he'd finished with what Spencer can only assume are his princely duties, though he hasn't the faintest idea what that might entail, but he's content with that for now. He can almost grow numb, in fact, to each sharp jolt that shoots through him with every foot forward as he admires the jewels and fruits and vegetables that are all for sale here, smiling and shaking his head at every merchant who calls out to him.
He has thirteen days left to make being human count for something; but in this moment, Spencer just wants to allow himself the chance to enjoy it the best he can.
[OOC: Open to all!]
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Date: 2015-04-24 07:51 am (UTC)He would have his mother's approval of what he's doing, if not the way he'd gone about it. Spencer had been very young when she'd died, but he remembers an unmatched vibrancy and a beautiful, melodic voice that could soothe nearly any of the merfolk, most of all his father. The memories he holds of her have often made him wonder of the years just how she and his father had ended up together, and it's not that his father is humorless or in any way unyielding; he's simply a much more cautious sort of merman, one who appreciates rules and boundaries and keeping to those, while Spencer had fallen somewhere in the middle of his parents' tendencies toward living his life. He doesn't necessarily crave being human, after all, it's Joel he wants to be with and if that means staying here for the rest of his life, if that means having to live with the pain in his legs for all of eternity, he'll do it. He'll give his old life up completely to be with this man and perhaps that is an insult to his father, but Spencer is certain his mother would understand.
She'd loved love, she'd been so open and kind and caring, and she'd been well-liked among the merfolk. After her death, Spencer had noticed a distinct change in the number of visitors they would receive at home, and he'd wondered if that was temporary for his father's sake but no, it had remained that way well into Spencer's adulthood. By no means is he excessively social, not at all; he has a few select friends at home that he enjoys spending time with but when it comes to going somewhere that many merfolk have gathered, it starts to become something of a burden. Joel is like that, too, he thinks, more comfortable in their time alone together than he is in the presence of many others; but Spencer would much rather get the chance to have Joel to himself than to lose him to someone else.
It comes as no surprise then that he would desire the approval of the queen, not only because she is half the ruling party of this kingdom but because her love for her sons is so visibly evident in everything she does for them. She's a good woman, a genuine one, and Spencer can see where Joel gets the same traits. The princes hadn't been raised by nannies or maids, they'd been raised by their parents, who hadn't used their roles as excuses for not being involved in their children's lives. That she's willing to stand here and ask him questions about the bouquet he'd brought as if she has a true and vested interest--which she very well maybe, Spencer thinks, the flowers are awfully nice--makes him feel more welcome than ever, and he flushes happily as he nods eagerly at the suggestion that he'd put the arrangement together himself.
He's no less eager after she's found a vase, and he ignores the pain in his legs to follow her as he looks over his shoulder to make sure that Joel isn't far behind. It's an honor to him that she should deem his bouquet worthy enough to be seen by so many people, and he knows she might just be doing it to be kind but that doesn't matter because she's the queen, she's under no obligation to be this accommodating to a man she'd only met less than a day ago, but it delights Spencer to no end and so, he quickens his pace to catch up with the queen, bouquet tucked neatly in his arms.
With another glance over his shoulder to smile at the prince, Spencer practically runs, skips-- right into the doorframe to the front hall.
The sharp burst of pain at the back of his head is unexpected, and he frowns as he lifts his free hand to inspect the area but before his fingers can brush against the blood he can already feel dripping through his hair, he falls to the ground in a heap and everything goes black.
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Date: 2015-04-24 02:03 pm (UTC)And yet now he's here, lying on the floor in the hall.
"Joel, is he alright?" his mother asks. She's set the vase aside and the maid who had collected the flowers from off of Spencer is putting them in the water. It seems like such a silly thing to be concerned with at the moment, but Joel finds he's grateful for it all the same. He doesn't want Spencer to wake up and wonder why his flowers have all wilted and as they are now, beautifully arranged in the vase his mother had prepared, they look as stunning as they had in Spencer's arms. They're still here, an indication of what he brings to this house, and when Spencer opens his eyes, that's what Joel wants him to see. He can't explain why it matters to him so much, only that it does. Only that he can never let Spencer feel anything but wanted and maybe it's that he remembers how heartbroken Caden had been when April walked away from this life, maybe it's that he's always wondered if she had felt out of place and unwanted, but whatever it is, he isn't letting the same thing happen to Spencer.
"He'll be fine," he says, his voice strained. Of course he'll be fine, it's just a bump to the head, but Joel is still careful as he lifts Spencer's upper body gently from the ground and cradles him so he's not resting against the cool wood floor. Another maid appears at his side with a damp cloth and Joel takes it with a grateful, distracted smile, and gently begins to wipe some of the blood from Spencer's skin. He's not quite sure where Spencer hit his head and he hates the sight of the blood, but he can't stop looking at him, not when he's in need. Not ever, really, something he really should come to accept, but especially not right now. Spencer needs him and Joel is going to be right here when he wakes up.
"Here," one of the maids says. She takes the cloth from Joel's hands, then offers him a vial of something foul smelling and Joel glances down to see he's holding smelling salts. He's always hated them, hated the chemical smell of the ammonia, but he knows they work and so he smiles faintly at the maid and then holds the small vial near to Spencer's face. He waves it back and forth slowly, carefully, then hands it back to the maid when it seems to have worked, when Spencer begins to stir.
"Careful," Joel says softly, pressing his knuckles against Spencer's cheek gently. "It's alright. Come back to me."
He doesn't realize what he's saying, that he's speaking at all. He doesn't notice the looks the maids exchange, the small smile on the face of the one who's still arranging the flowers, more as a means to stay and see what happens than anything else. He doesn't notice the way his mother fondly rolls her eyes and then heaves a sigh before she shoos two of the maids away who simply seem to be there to look. The only thing he's aware of is the way Spencer's eyelids flutter, the weight of his head and shoulders against Joel's thighs and the warmth of his skin against the back of his fingers.
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Date: 2015-04-25 10:34 am (UTC)The voice is soft, soothing, almost melodic in the way it lures Spencer back from the darkness that had met him so suddenly. The gentle cadence of the words makes him feel for just a moment like he's back in the water, lying on his back and letting the waves drift him to wherever the ocean sees fit. That's not something he'd done often, when he'd gone to the surface, he'd done so with every intention of finding out more about the way the human world works or poking around the parts of the shoreline he could reach without being seen for bits and pieces he could more closely examine at home.
Quickly enough, though, the reassuring voice is tainted by the smell of something awful and even before he opens his eyes, Spencer can feel his nose wrinkling at the offending odor as he shifts his head to move as far away from it as he can. He's being held still, he quickly realizes, by strong arms that are keeping him from sitting up like he wants to, which turns out to be quite a good thing because the more aware he becomes of being awake again, the more his head begins to ache as what must have happened catches up with him.
His eyes flutter open to find exactly what he'd expected, Joel's face hovering worriedly above him, and Spencer's cheeks immediately flush red with humiliation at having caused such a commotion. He blinks away the grogginess of having been unconscious and slowly turns his head to squint at what else is around him, vision still adjusting as his gaze settles on his flowers in the vase and the queen waving a hand at two maids who are rushing out of the hall. He'd hit his head, that much he's gathered, and he remembers turning to look at Joel but can't quite put together the rest--though that very well may be because there's nothing else to remember at all. Regardless of what had happened, though, he mostly just wants to be able to get back up and assure Joel that everything is fine, that there's nothing to worry about except for maybe the blood that's dripping down his neck and even then, he's willing to ignore it if it means the prince won't spend another moment with those worried lines creasing his forehead.
Spencer wants to reach a hand out to smooth those lines away, to cup Joel's cheek and press a kiss to his temple like he had yesterday, never mind the fact that their positions have essentially been reversed. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to do just that, to abandon all pretenses entirely and tug at Joel's shirt so their lips can meet instead, and Spencer suspects he looks rather wide-eyed and dazed as he looks back up to meet Joel's gaze but really, he doesn't think he can be blamed for his thoughts or the silly, lovestruck expression on his face. He's hit his head, after all, and he isn't thinking straight; except at the same time, these are the very same thoughts he has even when he's standing on his own two feet.
Come back to me, Joel had said, and Spencer had obliged. He will always come back, even if at the end of all this, Spencer has lost his legs to get back his tail, he'll come back. Ersa had told him he'd have one chance to do this, just one chance, and Spencer will make peace with never being able to walk on land again if it means he'll still get to at least see Joel from afar. Nothing could keep him from this man, he already feels that deep within his bones, and he leans further against the warmth of Joel's chest as he fights to keep his eyes from shutting again. It's a struggle, but he rests his hands on Joel's forearm as he squirms to sit up a bit straighter so as not to put all his weight on the prince.
The queen seems to be saying something and when Spencer returns his attention to her, he frowns at just how dizzy the simple act of shifting his gaze makes him. He can't even quite make out what she's saying, it's as if she's speaking from a much greater distance than she is, and he tightens his grip on Joel's arm as a flash of fear courses through him. There's nothing to worry about, he tells himself, it's just a minor wound to the head; but even so, he wants nothing more than to be shown back to his room so that he can rest comfortably in bed--preferably with Joel holding him just like this.
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Date: 2015-04-25 05:34 pm (UTC)"Can you bring some rags and a bowl of cool water up to Spencer's room?" he asks one of the maids and she nods before she goes off toward the kitchen. This way everything will be prepared by the time he gets Spencer up to his room and no one else will have to interrupt them, which Joel thinks will be better for everyone involved. He isn't quite sure if putting Spencer straight to bed is a good idea, not after he's suffered a blow to the head, but if necessary, Joel will happily keep him company for as long as he needs. He'll stay with him in his room, do everything necessary to keep him awake, tell him stories, read to him out of books, simply just be there with him if nothing else. And once the blood has been cleaned away and the wound has stopped bleeding, he'll let Spencer lie down and he'll cover him and close the heavy curtains to block out the light that may make him dizzy in such a state. He'll take care of him. He'll do everything he can to take care of him, today and every other day that's to come.
"Do you think you can get up?" he asks, holding Spencer's arms gently in his hands. "I'll help you, but we really should get you upstairs to your room. You need to relax, at least for a little while." And while Joel knows it's quite a minor injury, that besides a headache that may linger for a little while, Spencer will be up and around in no time, he still worries. What he feels his this man is indescribable. It's something he doesn't know what to do with, something he's never felt before, and with it comes a whole new set of worries he's never had in his entire life. Vaguely, he remembers feeling something similar for Amy when she'd taken a fall off a horse and he had thought for a moment or two that she had broken a bone. It had only been a bad sprain and he remembers the relief that had flooded him at the knowledge that she would heal in time and would continue to ride and walk without a limp. It's like that, he realizes, but stronger. The worry seems to claw at the back of his throat, work its way into his chest and settle there like a heavy stone that won't be moved no matter what sort of rational and logical thought Joel tries to persuade it with.
The only thing that will help it is knowing that Spencer will be alright and for that Joel has to get him moving. He has to see to him, tend to whatever he needs and spend some time with him before he'll be convinced that there's nothing to worry about. And so he moves gently, still holding onto Spencer, taking care to let him get his legs under him before he tries to help him stand. "Careful," he breathes, his voice low. "You hit your head quite hard. Don't move too quickly and lean on me just in case you get dizzy."
They have two flights of stairs to go up before they'll be able to get Spencer into his room and Joel plans on sticking by him every step of the way. There's absolutely no way he'll risk letting Spencer take those stairs alone, not when it's likely that he's still dizzy. A tumble down a flight of stairs would be significantly worse than a knock against the doorframe and Joel simply isn't going to let anything else happen to Spencer. Not if he has any say in it, which, at the moment at least, he very much does. There is nothing else expected of him for the rest of the day and he had planned on spending it with Spencer anyway, so now he can simply spend it tending to him.
"Let one of the maids know if you need anything else," his mother says, pressing a hand to Joel's arm before she returns to her business and he nods as he turns them in the direction of the stairs.
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Date: 2015-04-25 09:41 pm (UTC)He's dizzy now for other reasons, his head swimming with pain that he can at least take comfort in knowing will eventually go away. It isn't as if he's never hit his head before, he remembers being younger and getting into a playful fight with a friend after lessons, only to be thrown a little too roughly so that he'd fallen against a rock on the ocean floor. His father had been furious, mostly out of fear, and he'd apologized to Spencer's poor, terrified friend for screaming at him for his lack of caution the next day but even so, the merman had kept his distance from Spencer for a time after that.
This incident had been nobody's fault but his own, a mere consequence of an overeager reaction to being able to please the queen--more specifically, to please and hopefully gain more approval of the mother of the man he loves--and the color in his cheeks spreads to his neck as he looks sheepishly up at Joel with their first steps toward the stairs. It's daunting to think they have to travel so far when there's the ache in his legs combined with the tenderness to the back of his head. Putting each foot forward makes him wish he could have just stayed on the ground, safeguarded by Joel's arms around him, but of course, that wouldn't have been an option. Joel is right to get him to his room, though Spencer suspects he won't be getting any long-lasting period of sleep anytime soon, if what he remembers of his father insisting on waking him every couple hours the last time he'd suffered a head injury is anything like how he'll be treated now.
Still, he is much keener on Joel taking the responsibility of overseeing his care than any of the maids being burdened with the task, even if he does feel guilty that it has to be done at all. He's sure the prince has many other things he could be doing, should be doing, and he's as good as ruined the evening with this but if he's honest, he can spare little more concern for that at the moment. His concentration is centered on getting up the stairs, and it's terribly slow-going but soon enough, they've reached the top of the second flight and managed to make it to Spencer's room. His bed looks so inviting and perhaps under different circumstances, having that same thought with Joel right beside him would mean something else but as it is, all Spencer wants to do is curl up under the covers and will the throbbing in the back of his head to go away.
It's with a silent but heavy sigh that he lets Joel seat him on the edge of the bed and it hurts to narrow his eyes but he does it anyway because he catches sight of a hint of red on his freshly laundered white shirt that had been set out for him this morning. The guilt that had subsided just briefly returns in full force, and he raises his hands to scrub lightly at his face before letting them drop back down to rest on his thighs, hiding the misery evident in his expression from the prince by keeping his gaze strictly focused on the rug below his feet.
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Date: 2015-04-26 04:56 am (UTC)"Let me see," he says after he's wet one of the cloths and wrung out the excess water. He goes to the bed, putting one knee up on the mattress beside Spencer so that he might get close enough and he touches Spencer's head gently, urging him to tilt it so that Joel can begin to wipe blood off his skin and out of his hair. He's as light handed as he can be, taking care not to touch the wound directly once he's found it and instead concentrating on removing as much of the blood as he possibly can. It seems to have mostly stopped bleeding on its own, for which he's grateful. It means he won't have to call the medic up here regardless, he won't need to be stitched back together to stop the bleeding and, if they're lucky and Joel is careful not to start the bleeding going again, they may not even need to bandage him.
"When I was fourteen and first leaning to ride a horse properly, I got so excited that I thought riding a broom around the house would be good practice," he says and he isn't sure when he decided to tell this story, but now that he's speaking it seems best to just keep going. He rinses the cloth in the bowl of water, then squeezes out more of the water and returns to Spencer's head, cleaning his hair, cleaning his skin, soothing over the wound as best he can so that he won't cause any further pain. "My mother told me to stop about a dozen times, but I wouldn't listen to her and I rode the broom straight up the stairs. Right to the landing just outside your room, actually. Then I turned, caught my feet on a rug and smashed my head on the bannister before falling nearly all the way back down."
He tilts his head slightly, lifting his hand to push back some of his hair so Spencer can see the scar that cuts through his eyebrow. "I was lucky that was the worst of it. I could have broken my neck falling down the stairs like I did and by the way my mother was screaming you would have thought that I had, but it was just the blood that upset her. She said she saw it and it felt like her heart stopped. At the time I thought she was being ridiculous. It was barely a cut at all, barely any blood." He wipes the last of the blood away from Spencer's neck, then places the cloth back in the small bowl beside the bed and looks at Spencer for a long moment. "I think I now have a much better idea what she was feeling."
It's then he catches sight of the blood on the shirt and his hands go to the first button at Spencer's collar without thinking. "We should get you out of this and into something clean to wear," he says before he realizes he's offering to undress the other man, that he already has his hands on the buttons, that he's gently urging Spencer to stand so that it might be easier and there's a part of himself screaming to stop. That this is nonsense, it's dangerous, he's being absolutely ridiculous. And yet the part of him that's louder still is the part that wants nothing more than to just take care of Spencer.
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Date: 2015-04-26 10:43 am (UTC)What he wants more than anything is to be allowed to sleep, to drift off and let his dreams ease the pain in his head better than any sort of potion could, but he knows the risks in that. He's heard about it before, merfolk and humans alike who have been swept away by waves too difficult to navigate and don't wake from a blow to the head that would most certainly be far more damaging than Spencer's own but nevertheless, he hates to see Joel looking so worried on his account. If he'd only been more aware, more cautious, this wouldn't have happened; but that isn't how he's been feeling since he'd gotten his legs. He doesn't want to be cautious, in fact, he wants to throw all caution to the wind so that he and Joel can be together the way Spencer so badly wants them to be without consequence or gossip or anything of the sort. He wants all sorts of things for them, happiness and contentment and understanding and love, and he knows he's growing a bit more delirious now but that doesn't change the fact that he still hopes for all these things.
Tomorrow, he knows he'll feel much better and the cut on the back of his head that Joel seems to have deemed not even worthy of a bandage will seem like a silly, distant memory that they'll be able to laugh about later; but for now, Spencer is shaking himself out of his thoughts--not without a flinch of pain--and realizing with slow comprehension that Joel's hands are on his shirt, working at his buttons, and there's Joel's voice again telling him that they ought to get Spencer into something clean wear. This one is stained with blood, after all, it wouldn't do to soil the bedsheets with it, too; but a small part of him hopes it takes Joel longer than it likely should to fumble with his buttons because he quite likes the warmth of the prince's hands so close to his chest.
He's standing on his feet without even remembering that he'd been helped to do that at all, and he think he'd be more worried about the effect this will have on his head if he didn't think that his thoughts of Joel were a good enough sign that everything is still working properly. Even in spite of himself, Spencer's priority is Joel, just like it had been yesterday and just like it will be tomorrow. In just one day, he has become willing to give himself to Joel, to let himself belong to Joel because he's never been more certain about anything that this prince, this man, would never do anything to take advantage of him. Joel would never harm him, never hurt him, and Spencer doesn't know how or why he knows that but it's as easily acceptable a fact as his own existence.
He catches one of Joel's hands in his when the prince gets down to the last button, suddenly understanding just what is happening and flushing all over again at the prospect of Joel seeing him without his shirt on for the second time in a day. It's not that he's embarrassed about his body, he hadn't been when he'd been found in the sails, but this is a much more intimate setting. His feelings for Joel have only grown deeper, especially after their trip to the marketplace and the kisses to the cheeks they'd exchanged and Joel's care for him now--it's all amounted to a sudden bashfulness that he can't hide, though his hand does loosen until he drops it to his side and lets his eyes flutter shut to let Joel finish his work.
He trusts Joel thoroughly, with every part of himself, and this is hardly putting his life in the man's hands but Spencer certainly wouldn't let just anyone in the palace undress him so intimately. It feels as if they've known each other for so much longer than they truly have, and Spencer has no idea why he feels such a pull toward Joel but if he's honesty, he doesn't care to question it.
All he knows is that this is important, that if there's any hope at all of them being together, Spencer has to let go of his fears and insecurities and anxieties over what may come by the end of his time here. It's easier said than done, and perhaps his efforts will be met with more resistance some days than others, but Spencer is prepared to do what he must to keep Joel in his life.
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Date: 2015-04-26 06:10 pm (UTC)But then Spencer's hand falls aside and Joel finishes unbuttoning the shirt he's wearing, then lifts both his hands and eases it off Spencer's shoulders. There's a part of him that wants desperately to smooth his hands over his skin, touching him everywhere he's able, but he's being trusted with taking care of Spencer and so instead of letting himself give in to the most intense desires he's ever felt, Joel is very careful about removing Spencer's shirt without touching him more than necessary. His hands are still trembling faintly and when his fingertips graze against the smooth skin of Spencer's biceps, for a second Joel thinks he might just have to run. He might have to drop the shirt and flee for fear that he does something far too bold. Because there's a bed just behind them and he'd be able to wrap his arms around Spencer in an instant and fall on top of the covers with him. It would take barely the slightest movement at all and Joel wants it so badly that he, alarmingly, can feel his body responding to just the mere thought of it.
Spencer's been injured. He has to remind himself of that as he finally manages to remove his shirt the rest of the way. Carefully, Joel turns and lays it over the edge of a chair so that he might take it with him when he goes. And he thinks he should find something for Spencer to put on instead, something clean and comfortable, something that might ease the tension in the room, but when Joel looks at him, he feels like he's been frozen in place by the sight of him. On the beach the day before, he'd had barely a moment to look at him before all his concerns had turned to getting Spencer to the palace where he might rest. They had touched and Spencer had truly been far more exposed then than he is now, but Joel's focus had been on one thing. Now that he's here, now that Spencer is safe, if still injured, he's been allowed a moment to look and though he tries not to, he can't seem to help himself. His gaze sweeps over Spencer's upper body and he knows he shouldn't make such a show of it, he should at least try to hide it, but he can't seem to, even as a flush darkens his cheeks.
After being dragged through the waves, he'd known well that Spencer is strong. Such a thing had been impossible to deny when he felt that arm locked around his chest, tugging him up to the air. But under the shirts and trousers his mother has supplied to Spencer, he looks deceptively slim and now here, in the warm afternoon sunlight still filtering in through the curtains, Joel can see it truly is a deception. He's stronger than anyone might expect, his arms lean and toned, his chest perhaps quite narrow, but his shoulders surprisingly broad. He is slim, built in a way quite unlike Joel, but there's strength there, more than most people might expect and the sight of Spencer's warm, smooth skin, the sight of the way his shoulders and arms shift and pull makes Joel's breath catch in his throat.
And he isn't being subtle, he knows it, but he can't seem to help himself. It takes several long moments before he realizes just how close he's still standing, how there's barely a few inches between them and then he clears his throat, feeling foolish and quite rude all at once. Spencer has been hurt and even if their affections are mutual, this is hardly the time to be acting on them.
"Sit," he says softly, urging Spencer back toward the edge of the bed. "I'll find you something to wear. You should rest, but I'll have to check in on you every so often. Or would you..." Joel pauses in the act of going to the closet, rifling through the night clothes until he finds something soft and light, something that will be comfortable without being too warm. "Would you rather I stay?"
He thinks maybe he shouldn't, not with the way his body has been responding to Spencer's. If he climbs into that bed beside Spencer, even if it's only to sit up with him, he's afraid that his response might be all but impossible to hide and he's embarrassed to be standing here, so aroused by Spencer when what he needs is assistance, not some prince who can barely hold himself together in the presence of someone he's attracted to.
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Date: 2015-04-28 10:00 pm (UTC)It's not that he'd find that to be a problem; but he doesn't want to overwhelm Joel so quickly, even if Spencer's heart is telling him that they want the same thing--they have to, what he'd felt on the beach was far too strong to be all in his mind--and right now, half-undressed and breathing heavily with the man he wants more than anything just a few feet away, Spencer isn't sure that he'd be able to do much in the way of keeping himself under control. All he wants to do is cross the room and kiss him, the blow to his head and the pain in his legs be damned, or if nothing else, to be held in the warmth of Joel's arms for the rest of the night.
Whether that's something the prince is offering in his question of whether Spencer wants him to stay or not, he isn't sure. What he does know is that there could never come a time that Spencer wouldn't want him at his side. Even the time between leaving him on shore and returning to him at the site of Joel's wrecked boat had been a trial, after all. It had been the uncertainties that had worried him the most, the questions of whether he'd ever seen Joel again and if he did, would it only ever be from afar? Would he ever get the chance to hold Joel's hand again, to know what it's like to brush his lips against someone's temple and feel as if there's nobody else in the world he's meant to touch in that way?
He has a better understanding now of how easily Ersa had manipulated him, how she'd twisted his feelings until he'd seen no option but to exchange his tail and voice for legs and pain, and Spencer knows he'd probably be expected to view her as something vile. He should probably think of her as a bit cruel, this sea witch who does no good deed for free, but Spencer can't find it in him to do it because in spite of what she'd taken from him, Ersa had also given him his greatest gift--the chance to make this love last, to not live out the rest of his life in regret and wishful thinking of what things could be like if only he could find another moment with Joel again.
The room isn't cold, but Spencer shivers as Joel turns his gaze back on him. His head still stings but it's dulled to a manageable throb, something that Spencer won't spare much concern about come tomorrow or even right now because he's been hurt worse before, much to the dismay of his father. This is next to nothing, really, and he'd be happy to explain that to Joel with a wave of his hand but the only thing that stops him is knowing that if he does, he'll have to wait until morning to see the prince again. It's selfish, possibly even the slighest bit devious, but he so desperately wants Joel to stay. Needs Joel to stay.
Without another thought, he lifts his hand to reach out for Joel, beckoning him back to his side on the bed. Regardless of what state he's in, Spencer knows well enough that nothing can happen between them tonight that amounts to more than perhaps the kind of touch that wouldn't be expected of two people who are merely friends. They barely know each other and yet, Spencer feels as if he's known Joel forever. He trusts this man with his life, with his heart and soul and body, and Spencer cannot for the life of him understand why or how this has happaned, only that it has and that he isn't willing to fight it. So if Joel only sits beside him tonight to make sure Spencer wakes, it will still mean the world. It will mean that there's nowhere else either of them would rather be.
After just a brief moment of hesitation, he pushes himself back on the bed until his legs are lifted onto the mattress and he's lying against the pillows. His stomach turns a bit with how nervous he is, his eyes focusing more closely than they need to on the rich reds and golds that form patterns on his blanket and he sinks down against the pillows he's been told are so soft because they've been stuffed with goose feathers. He'd examined everything in his room to a great extent last night, though, so it's not as if he's seeing the shimmering threaded details for the first time; he just needs something to distract from the fact that Joel's eyes had traveled down the length of his chest once his shirt had come off, that his own body had responded in such a way that is both familiar and unfamiliar all at once, and he doesn't yet know how best to handle it.
No matter, he supposes; Joel has been nothing but patient with him thus far, and Spencer trusts that won't end. The next two weeks will be a journey for them both, he hopes, but they'll face it together. That's all that Spencer wants.
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Date: 2015-04-29 02:54 am (UTC)It's a large enough mattress that he can keep his distance without it being too obvious, but Joel can't seem to help himself. He shifts until he's leaning back against the pillows as well, his shoulder touching Spencer's, and even just that one single point of contact is enough. He can't allow himself anymore, not unless he wants to risk either pushing Spencer too hard or being caught in an extremely compromising position. Not that this isn't compromising enough in itself. The prince is currently reclining in the same bed as the man who's only just arrived at the palace after saving the prince's life. He knows how that sort of scenario might spiral out of control when it comes to the gossip mill and he knows he shouldn't risk such a thing, but here he is anyway, completely unable to talk himself out of being here. There will always be something to gossip about, something for the villagers to whisper about and while Joel has never done anything to play into this insatiable need to create some kind of dramatic situation, he's also never really done anything to stir their interest. Not until now.
He thinks maybe he should do what Spencer had done the day before, find a story to tell him, something to pass the time, but for all the books Joel has ever read, he finds he can't actually think of a single story to tell. There are too many options, too many stories he's read over the course of his life and he finds himself so nervous in this position that they're all jumbled up in his brain. One leads into another in a way he knows can't be possible and he's frowning up at the ceiling, trying to find a single thread in all the mess, one single story that he can tell to pass the time and keep Spencer entertained, but none will come to him. He tries to think of the stories his mother told him when he was a boy, the way she'd huddle in his bed with him just before he drifted off to sleep, the words she'd quietly speak and the melodic way her voice would lull and soothe him. She'd told so many tales that he knows there has to be one or two he can recall for Spencer in this situation, but none come to him.
There's only one thing that does. One thing she used to do for him and without giving it much thought, Joel takes a breath and finds himself singing. He isn't as talented a singer as his mother, his voice is low and rough and quiet, almost as if he's faintly embarrassed by the entire thing, but he remembers all the words of the song unlike all the stories he's trying to grasp, and that's something. It's one of his favourite songs, too, one that reminds him of his childhood, one that he's just always known, one that has always caught him with it's gentle, slightly melancholy words in a way he's never quite known how to describe. There's nothing sad about this moment, but it seems fitting all the same, even if his voice never gets any louder or any stronger. He isn't a singer, he isn't particularly talented, but he likes it anyway.
He likes it at the moment, anyway, and he wonders how much of that is due to Spencer.
He stumbles over a few of the words and laughs even as he sings, not as embarrassed by that as he would have thought he might be. When he finishes, when it's over and he's still looking up at the ceiling, he inches his fingers toward Spencer on the mattress and finds his hand, threading their fingers together, holding onto him. For some reason he can't quite look over at him, but his expression is light, slightly amused, even as he continues to look up at the ceiling. He truly doesn't know what's just come over him, why he would have thought to do that, but now that it's done, the words dying away in the empty, quiet room, he doesn't know if he needs a reason. He doesn't think Spencer will mind much.
Still, he says, "I couldn't think of a story to tell you." As if that will explain why he chose the song instead.