The Birds & The Bees | S.R.

Ch. 15 | Chekhov's Gun

Summary: The pair head off to the conference.

Content Warning: Oral sex (male receiving), guns, very mildly implied gun kink

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As far back as I can remember, I've always loved road trips. It made sense to me why babies had such an easy time falling asleep on long car rides. Although humans aren't capable of retaining memories of those years, I still liked to think that I'd felt the same way as an infant as I do now.

There was just something so whimsical about watching the world pass you by. Something comforting in the haloed lights and the thin barrier between you and the weather. The stereo sound of rain with a front row seat of watching droplets race down the window.

Even with the best of company, one who always had something to say, I found myself lost in thought rather than conversation. The rain was starting to wane, and the pitter-patter faded even further into the background of our rear view.

"What are you worried about?"

I turned to the man in the driver's seat first, but then glanced over to the clock to get some grasp on how long I'd been lost in thought. But a few seconds into the impossible mental math, I was forced to abandon the fruitless efforts.

"Bunny..." Spencer warned with a playful tilt in his voice.

"What?"

"You look worried."

To which, of course, I lied, "I'm not worried."

And, of course, he noticed.

"And now you're lying to me."

Something about the incredulity in the word, the way he drew out the vowel with an overdramatic gasp, made the impossible seem less so. The vulnerability I'd tried to hide away returned to the forefront with a few fangs less.

But it still felt... unworthy of being discussed. A product of an over-imaginative mind with too much time and too few distractions.

"It's nothing. It's stupid."

Spencer, in his usual stubborn way, did not accept the insecurities. I had half a mind to point out to him just how hypocritical he was to force me to talk about every inane thing that bothered me when it'd taken him months to be honest with himself about his feelings for me.

But he just sounded so pitiful, so pure in his intentions, that my competitive nature never stood a chance.

"Please tell me," he begged, "I promise it's not stupid if it's enough to worry you."

While I wanted to answer him, I still took a moment to gather my thoughts. In the end, they came out the way they probably always would have.

"Are you bored with me?" I said, too loud and too rushed for the simple idea the phrase conveyed.

Spencer's answer was much the same.

"What? No!"

It was also significantly more terrifying when half his body turned towards me in an instant, as he was the one driving the car. Thankfully, his logic took control pretty quickly once the initial shock faded, and he returned his eyes to the road with a deep huff.

"No, I'm not bored with you. Not at all. Why would you even think that?"

"It's just..." I tried to find a delicate way to say it, but found none. So, continuing with the trend of vague bluntness, I sucked in my cheeks and tried to be brave. "It's been a couple weeks and we... haven't..."