Neon Yellow: Obsessive Adhesives (8 page)

"What's the matter? Are you okay?"

Spencer leaned into the hug. God it felt good, calming. “I'm fine, but my house isn't."

"What happened?"

"Someone broke in and trashed the place.” It still sounded unreal. Why was this happening to him?

Jason pushed Spencer away. “You've phoned the police? No, of course not. Do it.” He nodded at Spencer's phone. “And you
will
be staying with me tonight.” Jason flung over his shoulder as he ran up the path to the front door.

Staying with Jason
... Thoughts of a room at The Ishtar filled his mind. Now was not the time... accounts receivables, itemized profit and losses... Once his thoughts were back to the crisis at hand, Spencer took out his phone and called the police. After answering several questions he was informed that a patrol car was on its way. Tired of standing on the sidewalk like an idiot, and worried about Jason, Spencer slowly made his way down the walk to his front door.

"Jason?” Spencer called out from the front stoop.

"Yeah? Ow!"

"What's wrong?” Spencer called as he ran into the house, not caring about the soon to arrive police or the carnage. All he cared about was that Jason was hurt. “Where are you?” Spencer grabbed the nearest available ‘weapon’—an umbrella—and navigated his way through the mess in search of his friend.

"In your bedroom,” Jason called back.

Oh, if only Jason was speaking those words under different circumstances. Spencer appeared at the bedroom door to see Jason sitting on the bed with his pants leg rolled up, studying his knee where a nice bruise was starting to form. This room, too, was a disaster area.

"What hap-” Spencer stopped as his gaze travelled down Jason's naked shin to the mess on the floor by his right foot. A lump formed in Spencer's throat as he picked up the crushed picture frame. It was his favorite picture of Klay. The two of them smiling for the camera, Klay's arm draped over Spencer's shoulders. Spencer remembered that day as if it had happened yesterday—not five years ago. Damn it, Spencer brushed the tears from his eyes. Crying in front of Jason was not an option. Fuck. Hadn't this stalker done enough already? Now the fucker had to stir up memories that were better left buried.

"Just bashed my knee against...” Jason stood and slipped his arm around Spencer's shoulders. “What's up?"

"Nothing.” Spencer started prizing the damaged photograph out of the frame. “How's your knee?"

Jason shrugged. “I'll live.” He took the photo and frame from Spencer's shaking fingers. “Let me, you'll cut yourself. Cute boys, you and your brother?"

"Yeah, Klay's my older brother."

"He looks like you.” Jason broke away the last bit of glass and frame and handed the photo to Spencer. “So, why so sad?"

Spencer took the picture and stared at the image of his brother. “Klay died four years ago.” A day he'd never forget. The phone call he'd answered from Klay's almost incoherent girlfriend, Holly, replayed in his mind. Motorcycle accident, hit a tree, didn't look good. It hadn't been good; Klay had died a few hours later in hospital, never regaining consciousness. Spencer tried not to think about it too much.

"I'm sorry.” Jason's other arm went around Spencer, drawing him close.

Spencer nodded and felt the pricking of tears behind his closed eyelids. The weeks of disturbing notes, the realization that he could be in danger, the sleepless night and now this. Anger, frustration and tiredness warred within him as his tears dampened Jason's neck. “I'm okay.” But he didn't want Jason to let go. It felt good, he felt safe wrapped up in Jason, Jason's hands gentle and warm on his back.

Jason just snorted. “Come on, let's get out of here. I'll take you home and we'll order in and watch a DVD.” He kissed Spencer's forehead.

Spencer looked up, through foggy lenses, at Jason. “Sounds good,” he mumbled, aware of how stupid he must look. Men didn't cry. It seemed to Spencer that he spent a lot of time doing things that men didn't do. According to his father anyway. Men didn't cry, didn't date other men, didn't work in offices, didn't drink herbal tea... the list went on. Yet Jason didn't seem to let any of that bother him. Spencer blinked a couple of times. “I'm okay."

"You've had a rough couple of days, huh?” Jason's knuckles skimmed Spencer's jaw and Spencer pushed against them, like a cat, and was totally unprepared for the warm kiss that covered his lips seconds later.

The knock on the door broke the spell woven by the kiss. Spencer pulled away quickly. He could see the police now, rolling their eyes.
Another hysterical fag...

"Mr. Whitfield? Troopers Bailey and Howard."

Spencer picked his way over trashed knick-knacks and upturned furniture to the front door where the troopers were waiting. They were looking over the living room and talking to each other.

"Mr. Whitfield?” At Spencer's nod, they continued. “Want to tell us what's going on?"

With Jason's comforting presence behind him, Spencer related the details to the police, starting with the first note a few weeks previously. He knew that Jason was listening with as avid attention as the troopers were. Spencer gave Trooper Howard his cell phone number, Jason's address, his place of work and contact number there. Trooper Bailey poked around the shambles of Spencer's house, looking for evidence. Spencer told the police, repeatedly, that nothing had been stolen—as far as he could tell right now—apart from his coffee mug yesterday, and that had been returned to him at work; it was in the trash bin in the lunch room if they wanted it. He told them he had no idea who was out to get him—or who, in their words, had a ‘fixation’ on him. They wanted to see the notes and were annoyed when Spencer told them he'd thrown them away. Jason chose that moment to step in and hand over the note Spencer had received that morning—had it only been that morning? The troopers seemed happier now that they had some physical evidence in their hands and continued questioning Spencer about where he'd been, who he'd been with, people he talked to and saw—even if they weren't regular contacts. He felt as if he were the one on trial. And he was so tired.

"Can we leave it now?” Jason asked. He was standing very close to Spencer, his hand gently rubbing circles on Spencer's lower back. “Can't you see how tired he is?"

Trooper Howard glanced at Jason and smirked. Great, thought Spencer, outted to a cop. This day was going so well.

"You're staying with Jason, Mr. Whitfield?” Trooper Howard asked. “Just so we can get hold of you if we need to."

Spencer nodded and thought it odd that the trooper had called Jason by his first name. He'd ask Jason about it after. One look at Jason's face told Spencer that he didn't appear to be in the mood to discuss the manners of state troopers.

"He's not at fault here,” Jason said. “Leave him in peace and find the asshole that's making his life Hell."

Trooper Howard raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he is, maybe he isn't. I've seen the places
you lot
frequent. Breeding grounds for scum like this."

Jason took a step forward, fists balled at his sides. “Not unlike the primordial slime you crawled out of, hey Will?"

Trooper Will Howard raised an eyebrow in such a way that it looked as though he were taunting Jason. The stand off lasted for all of thirty seconds before Howard snorted and muttered something that sounded to Spencer like, “I wouldn't waste my time.” He turned abruptly and walked out of the house.

Trooper Bailey shrugged and shook his head, almost as if he were used to his partner's unusual behavior. He smiled at Spencer. “Don't panic. Take care and stick to populated places. We'll keep you posted.” He shook hands and left.

"What was that all about?” Spencer asked, turning to face Jason.

"Knew him at school,” Jason said darkly. “He made my life Hell for a while.” He gave Spencer a smile. “Grab a change of clothes or whatever you need and we'll get going."

Spencer nodded and headed back to his bedroom. He couldn't help but wonder how
well
Jason and Trooper Howard knew each other. Had they fooled around and it ended badly or was the trooper homophobic? Deciding it really wasn't any of his business, Spencer grabbed a duffel bag and packed it with clothes, placing his picture of Klay on top of a pair of sweatpants, and zipped the bag closed.

He couldn't wait to be gone.

"Just sling your bag down there for now.” Jason pointed to a spot in the corner of his living room. “Want a coffee? Beer? Something stronger?"

"Whatever you're having is fine."

He still wondered if this was a mistake. Jason's apartment wasn't big; Spencer doubted it had two bedrooms. He decided not to worry about what was expected of him until it actually happened. Jason didn't seem like the type to force himself on anyone, which put Spencer in a quandary. A part of him—mainly that part that was between his waist and thighs—desperately wanted Jason. The smart part—the bit above the neck—was screaming at him to wait until he knew Jason better or at least until all this stalker mess was over.

"C'mon, Spence.” A glass with a shot or two of bourbon and ice was thrust into his hands. “You look about dead on your feet."

Spencer let Jason lead him to the couch, and sighed as he fell into its welcoming comfort. Despite any misgivings he had about being in this small space with Jason, Spencer felt truly safe for the first time in days. He contentedly sipped his drink, unwinding even more when Jason dropped an arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

"I'm just gonna have a shower and get changed.” Jason's voice was gentle. “Just relax. I'll put the TV on. Unless you wanna come with me..."

It was just Spencer's luck that he'd chosen that precise moment to take a sip of his bourbon and, of course, choked on it. Spencer coughed violently—what an attractive sight that must be—and shook his head. Hopefully the opportunity to shower with Jason would present itself again. Soon. The two of them sharing a shower was not something he could deal with at the moment.

Jason laughed. “I'll take that as a no, shall I?” He kissed Spencer, flicked the TV on and left Spencer to his own devices.

Half heartedly, Spencer channel surfed. A horror movie, a sitcom, children's shows and cartoons, a talk show, a music video that did nothing for his already jangled nerves. Spencer clicked the channel selector on the remote with increasing frustration. There really
were
a hundred channels and nothing on. No wonder he avoided TV. He finally happened upon a station that showed a snow covered land. Emperor penguins waddled across the screen and the narrator, a cultured English voice, was saying something about the trek the penguins had to make just to get food. Spencer wondered why the penguins didn't just live
closer
to the food, but he found himself fascinated by the birds and left the TV on that channel, turning the sound down. He didn't want to be bothered by facts when he was in no state to absorb them.

"Penguins, huh? Did you know that Central Park Zoo have a pair of gay penguins?"

Spencer jumped and blinked, his head feeling foggy. He must have dozed off again. At least it didn't seem as though Jason had caught him this time.

"I'd love to see them,” Spencer replied. “Would be a fun day trip."

Jason grinned and dropped down next to Spencer again. “Yeah, but we'll make a week of it. See the big city."

"Yeah, uh... Mind if I shower?"

"Go for it. There's a fresh towel. Take your time; I'll order Chinese.” Jason clicked the TV to a different channel. “Oh, hey. Dante's Cove is back on."

Spencer glanced at the screen to see two hot, half naked men kissing. One of them slowly sank to his knees and pulled the other's shorts down. Oh God, was Jason going to watch gay porn? Spencer hadn't even realized you could get gay porn on cable—or any porn for that matter.

"Chinese sounds great,” Spencer managed to say before rushing to the bathroom. Once safely inside—and away from Jason and the hot, half naked men on TV—he was able to divest himself of the suit he'd been wearing all day, folding the shirt and trousers to stow in his bag. He turned on the taps, adjusted the temperature and stepped under the shower spray. God, it was close to heavenly. He closed his eyes, letting the hot water wash over him, but still couldn't help thinking about the current events. What had he done to warrant his
stalker's
—it still sounded surreal—attention? Spencer was so used to being quiet and unseen.
Had
he done something to provoke this. On the bright side, thanks to the psychopath, Spencer was now naked in Jason's shower while Jason was watching porn. It was official; his life had become an episode of
The Twilight Zone
.

Despite what Jason had said about taking his time, Spencer had a quick shower to refresh himself. Preoccupied with Jason and the guys kissing on TV, Spencer really didn't feel like wanking. He just felt like having some food, a drink and curling up with Jason in front of a movie. Exactly what Jason had suggested, and something Spencer never would have believed Jason would be doing on a Friday night.

After pulling on a pair of soft sweat pants and a T-shirt, Spencer walked through to the living room. Compared to how he usually dressed when there were others around, what he was wearing now made him feel vulnerable... almost naked. Dante's Cove had finished and Jason was now watching the news.

Spencer took a moment to study the man lounging on the couch. God, Jason was hot: spiky dark blond hair, blue eyes that captured one's full attention. Spencer feared his sweat pants would start to tent. Leave it to his cock to pick the most inappropriate time to awaken. When was the last time someone had elicited such a response? Spencer couldn't recall: high school maybe? It felt nice to be drawn to another—especially someone who didn't think Spencer was a waste of time. If only the circumstances were different. A stalker tended to dampen the mood a bit.

As if Jason could feel Spencer's eyes on him, he looked over and smiled. “Feel better?"

"Yeah, thanks.” Spencer smiled and walked over to the couch, taking a seat a safe distance from Jason.

Jason muted the TV and turned his attention on Spencer. “I was thinking about going up near Herkimer tomorrow; do some camping while the weather is still good, and do some stargazing. Come with me?"