Spencer tries to stop it. He does. He tries to keep the words from tumbling clumsily from his swollen lips.
But he can't. Quiet has never been Spencer's strong suit.
Three rushed, hushed syllables slip from his lips and hang in the air, heavy, like smoke.
Freddie freezes. Spencer can feel his muscles tense under his soft alabaster skin.
Spencer knows he has to do something, play it off, apologize, run, anything.
It's still and their bodies are still pressed flush up against each other. It's quiet except for the sound of gears turning in Freddie's head.
Spencer can nearly feel the internal panic rolling off Freddie in waves.
But then after what may have been a minute, may have been a year, may have been a lifetime Freddie inhales.
He kisses Spencer and then goes silent.
Finally, he looks up at Spencer with honest eyes. His words come with breath-taking sincerity.
"I love you, too."