When Brendon Met Spencer AU | R | by maple_mahogany
Part One
When Brendon Met Spencer 2/2
~
Spencer's sisters are going on a ski trip with their boyfriends for Christmas, so his parents are coming to Chicago to stay with him. He and Brendon get together one last time before Brendon flies back to Las Vegas. They have dinner and then go out to a pretentious little jazz club near campus where one of Brendon's pseudo-celebrity piano students has a gig.
"So what do you do with these guys you sleep with?" Spencer asks once a waitress has brought them drinks. "You just get up out of bed and leave?"
"Yeah." Brendon shrugs, drinking from his bottle.
Spencer simply cannot grasp the idea of fucking someone you've only just met and then leaving like that. Everyone he's had sex with has been in a relationship or at least qualified as friendly and affectionate hook-up. "But explain how you do it. What do you say?"
Brendon shoves a handful of pretzels into his mouth and talks around them. "I just say I have an early client, a haircut, a lacrosse game..."
"You don't play lacrosse." Spencer frowns.
"But they don't know that. They just met me."
"That's disgusting. Seriously; ew."
"I know, I feel shitty about it," Brendon says, dry as can be and sips his Corona.
"You know, I am so glad I never got involved with you." Spencer viciously squeezes lime wedges into his Zima bottle, shoving them down the neck. "I would have just been a random guy that you had to slink out of bed from and leave at three o'clock in the morning with the shitty excuse of having to feed your dog - and you don't even have a dog! Not that I would know this because we just met!"
"What are you getting upset about?" Brendon sits up and sets his drink on the table. "It has nothing to do with you."
"Yes, it does. You are an offensive cliché of gay men everywhere and I am a gay man, and offended." Spencer realizes as he crosses his arms that he's flouncing and possibly being a cliché of a gay man himself, so he shifts to a more dignified posture.
"Hey, I'm not bragging here but no one's complaining - if you know what I mean."
"Of course not! You're out the door too fast."
Brendon rolls his eyes. "I think they have an okay time."
"How do you know that?"
"Believe me. I know."
"Why? Just because they come?" Spencer doesn't even mean to, but he makes a jerk off gesture as he says it.
"Yes, because they come," Brendon answers, mirroring the gesture and adds wiggly fingers for a come-shot visual at the end. "It's not like you can fake that."
Spencer snorts. "Dude, I can get off with my right hand in thirty seconds, but that doesn't mean it's good sex."
Brendon purses his lips and waves away Spencer's idea. "Trust me, I can just tell, okay?"
"But it's not hard to fake a good time."
"Well, they don't fake it with me."
"Oh, right. I forgot. Not only are you a fucking Casanova, you're a mind reader as well."
"You don't think I couldn't tell the difference?"
"No!"
"Get outta here."
Spencer narrows his eyes on Brendon for a minute. He's just so fucking cocky with his stupid cute face and his perky little ass and his stupid scruffy goatee. He just gets whatever he wants. Spencer wants to kick him in the shin.
But since he's not six years old and he's already had a few drinks tonight, the impulse to demonstrate just strikes him.
"Ooh!" he groans. Then he does it again, louder and with his eyes closed. "Ooh, god," he gasps.
"You okay?" Brendon asks.
"Oh. Oh, god." Spencer slides down in his seat, spreading his thighs wide and opening his mouth. "Ah … ah, oh, god, yeah…"
Brendon sits up and glances around them, looking uncomfortable.
"That's it!" Spencer hisses. "God, yes, yes, oh!" Spencer writhes, his stomach muscles twitching. "Ah-ah, yes. Yes! Yes!" Spencer slaps his hand on the table and grips the edge of his seat with the other. He tosses his head side to side, really making a show of it.
People are beginning to turn around and look at them, and Brendon gives them a polite nod, chewing his lip.
"Ah, god, yes! Yes! Jesus, yes!" Spencer frantically runs a hand over his hair and then he buckles forward with a long, noisy groan. "Oh, god…" he finishes, panting, sinking lower into his seat, letting his head roll back.
There's a silence for a moment as people stare and even the band has stopped playing, when Spencer suddenly sits up, smoothes his hair and picks up his Zima, raising a challenging eyebrow at Brendon, who's scratching the back of his neck.
The man in front of the microphone leans down and mutters, "Somebody buy that man a drink," which gets a muffled chuckle from the bar.
~
New Year's Eve rolls around and Spencer asks Ryan to attend his company's party with him, but he declines in order to go out with the latest unattainable man Ryan's found to treat him badly. Brendon agrees to go with him on the promise of free alcohol and sexy musicians to ogle.
Everyone still standing upright is completely wasted by midnight, and Brendon and Spencer are happily standing together by the window with the city view.
"Thanks for coming with me tonight," Spencer says. "This is fun."
"Don't be stupid. The next national holiday if neither of us is seeing anybody, you've got a date."
"Deal."
"By the way, you look great tonight, have I said?" Brendon tells him.
He has, actually, at least four times. Not that Spencer's counting. "Thanks. You, too. And you shaved! I like seeing your face again," Spencer touches Brendon's cheek.
"Yep, it's my face." Brendon makes a rubber-face expression, twisting his lips and bugging out his eyes.
Spencer shoves at him and they laugh, leaning into each other, but then nearly trip over their feet and end up clinging to each other, which turns into a tangled hug.
They do hug each other sometimes, it's no big deal, so neither resists this, they just sway side to side as music plays. It's comfortable and Spencer sighs feeling how well Brendon fits in his arms and against his body. Brendon shifts ever so slightly against him, his nose brushing against Spencer's neck and he knows they've never touched each other quite like this before.
The tension in Brendon slowly dawns on Spencer, and he holds his breath and pulls away. He looks at Brendon, his mouth right near his own and … and Brendon looks completely terrified.
"Ten! …Nine! …Eight!" the countdown to the New Year begins and interrupts the awkwardness between them.
"Wanna get out of here?" Brendon asks, his focus still on Spencer's mouth.
Spencer nods and Brendon grabs him by the hand and leads them out onto the patio just as the countdown hits one. Party horns blare while confetti and balloons drop from the ceiling. They stand near an outdoor heater with their hands shoved into their suit pockets and watch as all the couples kiss each other.
They look at each other and shrug, laughing at themselves for being idiots. Spencer leans over as Brendon goes up on his toes to kiss each other on the cheek and quickly move apart again.
~
During the bitter cold of January, Brendon and Spencer are miserable with the cold weather once it's no longer draped in holiday ribbons and sparkling lights. A TV commercial on Depression Awareness Month gives them the brilliant idea that the best way to distract themselves would be to set each other up with their best friends.
"I can't believe you talked me into this," Ryan says as he and Spencer walk the last block to the restaurant.
"Look, it's perfect. You're my best friend and Brendon is … if you two happened to work out we could all be friends together and I wouldn't have to hate whatever self-loathing, repressed asshole you were with. Wouldn't that be nice?"
"You don't hate Arthur, do you?"
Spencer stops and looks at Ryan. "If Arthur ever left his wife and I actually met him, I'm sure I would hate him."
"He's probably never going to leave her, is he?"
"No, he's not," Spencer says, as though this isn't the five hundredth time they've had this conversation.
Ryan thinks for a second and nods. "Yeah. You're right. You are." They start walking again. "So, this Brendon is cute though, right?"
"Very cute."
"Then I don't understand why you aren't dating him."
"I told you this. We're just friends."
"So he's not really that cute?"
"Ryan! He is! And he's talented and funny and, I don't know, kind of a geek."
Ryan stops walking this time. "Funny and a geek? I'm leaving."
"Shut up before I kick you in the shin. Like you're one to talk, god. Let's go before we're late."
Introductions are friendly, if only a little stiff, and are accompanied by a laughable amount of silent eye communications between them as they order.
As it turns out, the silence is better than most of the actual conversations they attempt.
"Ryan, you know Brendon's from Las Vegas, too?"
"That's right," he says. "Where'd you go to school?"
"Palo Verde. You went with Spence, right?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm." Brendon nods, a painfully polite smile on his face. "Hey Jon, Spencer's company helped organize that Battle of the Bands your store sponsored."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah, I worked on that."
"I didn't really have anything to do with that," Jon mumbles apologetically
The conversation between Ryan and Brendon doesn't appear to be going any better.
"I did read it. I just didn't like it, that's all," Brendon says.
"Well, he's only the reason I became a writer in the first place, but whatever," Ryan mutters into his glass.
Another silent round of 'I hate you for doing this to me' is exchanged while Spencer tries to think of something else to say.
"The problem with music today is that it can't reinvent itself; musicians should go back to the classics," Jon spouts in a random burst, drawing all eyes to him. He looks around the table and blushes. "I read that in an article."
"I wrote that," Ryan says, eyes fixed on Jon as if he's only just seen him.
"Nah. For real?"
"Yes. My column in the Chicago Weekly."
"That's wild, man. I never quote things."
"I've never been quoted before. This is amazing." Ryan's voice is as gentle as ever but he looks like he might burst. Spencer can't help but smile at him.
"Wow, you know I read your column every week." Jon's got this lazy little smile on his face and it's clearly only for Ryan. "You usually make a really good point and it's funny, too, but I don't know if many people get the humor."
"They don't. Nobody gets my humor."
"I do."
Jon and Ryan beam at each other with little heart-eyes so they are completely oblivious to the way that Spencer and Brendon look at them and then at each other. They exchange a disbelieving glare, lips twitching as they shake their heads. It's a mutual acknowledgment that they've just been dumped.
The rest of the meal goes easier as Jon and Ryan talk non-stop to the total exclusion of Spencer and Brendon, who they leave in stunned silence on the sidewalk after they hail a taxi while Ryan mutters something about his place being not too far away.
~
Three Months Later
~
Of all the days on the calendar for Jon and Ryan to move into their new apartment together, April's Fools Day seems the most appropriate.
"And you know what the best thing about it is?" Brendon says. "That they hired movers and didn't ask us to help them. I hate helping people move."
"Yeah, that and the fact that you have zero upper body strength to be of any use at all," Spencer mutters.
"Dude, take that back. I will challenge you to an arm wrestling duel!"
"Now why would you want to embarrass yourself like that?"
"Asshole! Fine, thumb war, then."
"No way do you stand a chance at thumb war. I would kick your and your thumb's ass."
"What the fuck does that even mean?" Brendon demands with wonky confused eyebrows before he folds up with giggles, tripping along the sidewalk and bumping into Spencer. Spencer doesn't mind occasionally being the idiot when the reward is that laugh and that smile.
He stops abruptly, however, when he looks up and sees a man standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring right at Brendon. Brendon is giggling, leaning against Spencer's arm when he looks up and follows Spencer's line of sight.
"Shane," he says.
Oh.
"Hi, Bren."
"Hi."
Brendon just stands there looking stricken and pale and like he's been kicked even though he was just laughing a moment ago. Spencer feels his neck heat as his anger flares up. Shane's eyes flicker over to Spencer for just moment, appraising him, he thinks, before he looks back at Brendon. Another guy approaches and puts a light hand on Shane's arm with an uncomfortable smile on his face.
"Brendon, this is … this is Carlo."
"You're back early," Brendon says, not acknowledging Carlo at all.
"Um, yeah. I am," Shane answers. He looks back and forth from Brendon to Spencer, waiting for an introduction. The thing is, for all Spencer wants to hate Shane for hurting Brendon, now that he sees the apologetic way he's looks at Brendon, he can't really.
"Hi. I'm Spencer Smith."
"Pleased to meet you, Spencer," Shane says and introduces himself since Brendon isn't offering it. Spencer and Carlo exchange a nod but Brendon and Shane are back to staring at each other.
"Well, we should go," Shane says. He's got such a gentle voice and easy demeanor that Spencer's entire perception of him changes.
"Yeah. Yeah," Brendon mutters.
"We should talk sometime," Shane offers. It's a platitude, really, but it's also a gesture that Spencer respects.
"Right. Oh, definitely," Brendon says, with a robotic nod and a wave.
They walk in silence for half a block before Spencer asks if he's okay.
"Yeah. 'm fine. I mean, Carlo?" he lets out a cold laugh. "Most people go to Costa Rica and come back with a tan, but Shane comes back with a Carlo!"
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine. It had to happen at some point. City as big as Chicago, we couldn't possibly avoid each other for long. So it's done now. It's fine. It's totally fine."
~
Ryan and Jon are their usual love-struck selves, tripping over each other with affection while they trip over boxes and two apartments' worth of furniture in disarray.
"It's just that I can't watch the game on a Curly Q chaise lounge, Ry. I can't," Jon's voice drips with over polite affection.
"But the chaise in an attractive piece of furniture and not …that." Ryan points at Jon's oversized, brown Lazy-Boy. "Spence?"
Spencer just shakes his head and smiles. So not getting into that one. No way.
"You can make all the decorating choices, okay? Anything you want. But, my chair," Jon insists, as gently as he can. Spencer would find this exchange annoying already if he weren't tense from the energy arcing off of Brendon.
"We can get you a new chair. A better looking chair," Ryan offers.
"But it's a great chair! There's nothing wrong with it."
"Jon, sometimes when you love something, you can't see it for what it really is, but-"
"You know, it's funny,” Brendon says, his tone so cold that Jon and Ryan look over with wide eyes. "This is how we used be, Shane and I…"
"Can we not do this now?" Spencer mutters, leaning towards him.
"Oh, no, I think it's the perfect time to do this. I want our friends to benefit from my experience." He turns on Jon and Ryan, all narrow eyes and big gestures. "Right now, everything is great. Everything is wonderful, everyone is in love; but eventually, you'll wake up one day and find out that everything that you thought was yours, isn't anymore, oh and by the way 'Can you please be out by next Wednesday?'"
"Brendon…" Spencer tries to intervene. Ryan retreats close to Jon, who puts an arm around his waist.
"No, no. You know it's true just as well as I do, Spencer. It doesn't matter if the chair is ugly or if it matches. Eventually, there won't be a happy home to keep it in anyway!"
"You think my chair is ugly?" Jon asks.
"Yes!" Brendon shouts, flinging his arms in the air and then storms out the front door.
"Um. He saw Shane today," Spencer explains in the ringing silence left in Brendon's wake.
"Oh, should I…?" Jon asks, taking a step.
"No, no. You guys just…" Spencer waves at them and the chair. "I'll go."
Outside, Brendon is kicking a discarded moving box against the wall.
"I know, I know, I shouldn't have yelled at them." Brendon stops kicking the box and crosses his arms, chewing on his thumbnail.
"Brendon, you're going to have to learn not to express every thought and feeling you have, the moment you have them."
"Oh really? You think? I'm so sorry, do you have anymore pearls of wisdom for me today?"
"Hey, you don't need to be a dick to me just because you're upset."
"I think I'm entitled when the Ice Queen is trying to give me life advice." Brendon kicks the box again.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means nothing bothers you! You don't get upset about anything. You never get upset about Bob, you never talk about him - how is that possible?"
"I'm not going to take this shit from you," Spencer snaps and turns to go back into the house but Brendon follows and gets in his face.
"If you're really so over Bob, why aren't you seeing anyone?"
"I do see people!"
"Please, 'see people'. Have you slept with one person since you broke up with Bob?"
"That will prove I'm over him? Because I've fucked somebody?" Spencer shouts at him. "Listen, I will go to bed with someone when it means something to me, not the way you do it, like you're out for revenge for something!"
Spencer forgets how loud his voice can get until he see Brendon blinking up at him.
"Can I say something now?" he asks, his shoulders hunched around his ears.
"Yes." Spencer takes a calming breath and brushes his hair out of his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he says, moving to hug Spencer.
Spencer pulls him close, petting over the back of Brendon's head.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Brendon mutters into Spencer's ear, squeezing him tight.
They stand like that for a minute, Brendon clinging while Spencer runs his hands up and down Brendon's back. "Shh, I know. It's okay …"
He feels jitters from coming off the adrenaline spike and pulls back to see the same weariness in Brendon's face. It's scary to fight with someone you care about and that's a much greater issue than what they were actually arguing about.
"You okay?" he asks, cupping Brendon's cheek for just a moment. They exchange apologetic smiles before returning inside to help Jon and Ryan make a mess of things.
~
Spencer's company gets overwhelmed during the spring months with bands tail-spinning out of control at the end of winter tours and preparing them for the summer festivals. He's barely had time to see Ryan and Jon. Brendon meets him for lunch or accompanies him on random adventures like acquiring an ice cream truck for a music video. "I knew you were going to destroy the music industry," Brendon had teased, just before he said, "Ohh! It plays music."
Now Spencer sits numb, staring at his computer screen. Once he manages some control over his shaking hands, he goes for the vodka in the freezer and his cell phone.
"'sup?" Brendon answers in that airy, off-hand voice that sounds like he's actually doing something.
Spencer tries to talk normally but at the moment he doesn't know what that is. "Um, are you busy?"
Brendon pauses. "No. What is it?" he asks, his concern is obvious so Spencer doesn't bother trying to pretend.
"It's … it's Bob."
"I'll be right over."
Spencer's managed to choke down one coffee mug of vodka before Brendon knocks on the door as he opens it.
"Spence?" he calls, peering into the living room.
"Hi." Spencer doesn't even recognize his own voice. "I'm sorry. Did you have plans? You look like you had plans," he says, noticing Brendon's wearing his good jeans with a button-down shirt and a vest. He looks down at himself and feels disgusting, inside and out, in his sweat pants and a too-tight t-shirt, and he knows he must be all splotchy and pink-faced.
"Nah … Hey, you all right?"
"I think I want some socks."
Brendon blinks, glances at the vodka, but says, "Okay. You wanna tell me what's up?"
Spencer can feel himself choking up, he takes a breath and struggles to find a way to start and finds himself at complete loss. He just waves his mug and bottle aimlessly and walks toward the bedroom, and it all just spills out. "Well, I was working at first. And then I was just fucking around online, you know, like, ninja-cat videos on YouTube and shit - shut up - and email. I was checking in with the family on Facebook, and there it was: Bob is now in a relationship with Jeffrey. Just, I mean, Jeffrey, what kind of name is that, anyway?"
"It's a stupid name. A really, really bad name." Brendon nods with sympathy at Spencer's ranting.
"I know! It really is. 'Jeffrey'. And so then - and I'm not ashamed to admit it - I creeper-stalked him online."
"Of course. That's totally what one does."
"Right? So, he has a MySpace … with pictures." Spencer sits on the bed next to Brendon with a flump and takes a deep breath. "They have three dogs and they went on a vacation together. Bob and Jeffrey. With the dogs."
"Yeah?"
"They have dogs together! He's supposed to be Bob's transitional person, he's not supposed to have pets with him!"
"Oh, right. I see."
"I wanted to get a dog. I like dogs! But he never wanted one. He said we worked too much and who wants to walk a dog in the winter, anyway?" Spencer drinks, inhaling after he swallows the sharp cold of straight vodka.
"Dude, easy, that's not one of Ryan's fruit-tinis. How much have you had?" Brendon asks, taking the bottle from him.
"Not enough yet. Give it back."
"Nuh-uh." Brendon sets it down on the nightstand and turns back to Spencer. "So Bob's moved on, huh?"
Spencer nods, wiping at his nose with the back of his wrist and stares at the floor. "All this time I thought Bob just didn't want that kind of life. But the truth is …he just didn't want it with me. He didn't love me."
He glances at Brendon, whose eyes are big and full of empathy.
"If you could have him back right now, would you?" Brendon asks.
"No." Spencer flails his arms and Brendon takes the still full mug from his hand. "But why didn't he want me?"
He flops back onto the bed, knowing full well he's putting Ryan's flouncing to the test, but Brendon sets the mug on the table and lies down facing him.
"What's the matter with me?" he asks, hating the whine in his voice.
"Nothing," Brendon says, brushing Spencer's hair out of his eyes.
"I'm difficult."
"You're challenging."
"I'm too structured and judgmental."
"But in a good way."
Spencer really thinks if Brendon keeps being nice to him in the midst of his self-abuse, he really might cry after all. "No. No, no, I drove him away. I was demanding too much." Spencer's chest feels solid and like he can't breath, all his failures and insecurities piling on at once, he sits up and Brendon sits, too. " … And I'm gonna be thirty."
"What? When?"
"Eventually."
"In like, five years," Brendon says, his bottom lips twisting, trying not to smirk, which makes Spencer laugh.
A laugh which lets loose a knot of emotion in his throat and he presses both hands over his face, scrubbing at his eyes.
"Oh, hey, come here." Brendon scoots close and pulls Spencer against his chest, rocking him. "It's okay. It'll be okay," he soothes.
"I'm not crying," Spencer mumbles into Brendon's shirt.
"I know." Brendon squeezes him and runs a hand over Spencer's head and he melts a little closer. "It'd be okay if you did. The snot'd blend in to the pattern."
Spencer chuckles. He lets Brendon rock him side to side a little longer, still squeezing his shoulders, rubbing his back, and even pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he eventually sits up, still clutching Brendon's shirt.
"I feel stupid now."
"No," Brendon says, cupping his cheek and darts close enough to press a quick kiss to Spencer's mouth.
"Thanks."
"Sure …I'll go make some coffee, 'kay?"
Brendon starts to get up but Spencer doesn't want to let go yet. "Brendon, wait. Can you just, wait, another minute?"
"Yeah." Brendon shifts closer and they hug again. "Aww, hey …" he says, which doesn't really mean anything sensible but it makes Spencer smile because Brendon has got absolutely zero words of comfort to offer, and yet, he's still here and he's holding Spencer and he's not making him feel like an ass, and that alone is some comfort.
He sits back again, ducking his head, and Brendon tips his chin up with his fingers and kisses him again. It's just a sweet, friendly kiss, but the thing is, Spencer likes it. He likes that Brendon cancelled his plans the moment he called, and he likes that Brendon doesn't try to fix things. He looks into Brendon's eyes, slightly crinkled at the corners with concern and friendship and his mouth is just…
Spencer leans forward and kisses him. No thinking, he just does it, and he can feel Brendon freeze but Spencer presses again, and after a pause Brendon exhales through his nose and very cautiously kisses Spencer back.
All the while their lips are moving against each other, Spencer isn't thinking about anything but yes, this because one half of him aches from the hurt, while the other half just wants. Maybe that's a dangerous combination, but he wants Brendon. Every little touch and joke and argument between them makes Spencer feel grounded and right, and as he feels himself lying back onto his bed with Brendon pressed again him and feels like this is everything that is right, too.
Brendon's hand grips his waist, just under the hem of his shirt while he feels along Brendon's front, unbuttoning him from the top, down, and once the shirt is open, he moves onto his belt.
"Uh…" Brendon shuffles backwards until he's standing, breathing hard and wiping his mouth dry.
"Yeah, easier this way," Spencer says as he sits forward and unbuckles Brendon's belt, opens his pants, pushing at them until Brendon helps with a whimper.
"Spence?" Brendon asks, startling every time Spencer touches his skin, kissing across his torso. It's kind of cute, because Spencer knows that Brendon is generally down with getting naked at the slightest request, but all this nervousness for him is kind of endearing. Spencer kicks off his sweats and t-shirt, feeling a little shy about it, and Brendon undresses, too, moving slowly, and when Spencer takes out a bottle and condom and lies them on the bed next to him, "I want, want you to. Okay?" Brendon just nods and climbs over Spencer, kissing him again.
Brendon's amazing with his mouth and careful with his fingers, letting Spencer bliss out on the intensity of it all until finally, impatient, Spencer sits forward and puts the condom on Brendon himself.
He clings, he knows he does, while Brendon fucks him, leaning up to kiss Brendon's neck and chest and letting his hands roam every bit of bare skin he can reach.
"Open your eyes," Spencer tells him. Brendon complies, but only for a moment before squeezing them shut again, pausing to reach for Spencer's hand to wrap around his own cock.
"You've gotta … c'mon, Spence, I won't last much longer."
It's easy to come with Brendon inside of him and he watches how Brendon screws up his face and groans a minute later, when he finally lets himself thrust hard and fast.
~
Spencer, exhausted with emotion and exertion, sleeps with his forehead pressed against the curve of Brendon's shoulder, the knuckles of his curled hand at Brendon's waist.
He's had several dates and exactly three blowjobs since he broke up with Bob, and all heartstrings and awkwardness aside, having sex with Brendon leaves him feeling raw in every way. He's not as off put by the feeling as he'd imagine.
Spencer wakes the moment Brendon slides out of bed in the early hours of the morning, hears him use the bathroom, and Spencer smiles into the pillow, waiting for him to slip back, warm and naked, under the covers with him, when he hears the jingle of Brendon's belt instead.
Spencer squints into the dim light, props himself on his elbow, and asks, "Where're you going?" as he pulls the sheet over his chest.
Brendon looks surprised but then gives Spencer an apologetic smile.
"I've got to go, um," he says, glancing at Spencer as he steps into his jeans and buttons up. The bottom falls out of Spencer's stomach as he watches Brendon shrug into his shirt and stuff his bare feet into his shoes. "I've got an early piano lesson. I've got to go home and shower first, you know."
Spencer leans back against the pillows and pulls the blanket up higher around his shoulders.
"And you've gotta work, too, right?" Brendon adds, standing next to the bed, wringing his socks and his vest in his hands, making Spencer feel incredibly naked under the blankets as he looks up at him.
"Yeah, right…"
"Right," Brendon agrees and he looks into Spencer's eyes, but they are dull and distant, like he's trying not to actually see Spencer at all. "But after, I thought we'd catch some dinner, okay?"
"Okay?" Spencer's too stunned to say anything. He can think of plenty, he just can't settle on any one thing.
"Okay!" Brendon fidgets for a moment before he leans over and kisses the top of Spencer's head and then makes a beeline for the door. "I'll call you."
~
Jon is curved around Ryan's back, his forehead mushed between Ryan's shoulder blades, when the cell phone on the nightstand buzzes.
Ryan startles to alertness with a gasp and the assumption that only bad news calls between twelve and six a.m.
Jon puts a soothing hand over Ryan's pounding heart as he answers, "Hello?"
"I'm sorry to call so early," Spencer says.
"What is it?" Ryan asks.
"None of our friends would call this early," Jon mumbles through a yawn, when his phone rings, too.
"I did something terrible," Spencer says. "I feel like shit."
"None of our friends would call this early," Jon repeats into the cell by way of an answer.
"I need to talk to you," Brendon tells him.
"What did you do?"
"Whatsa matter, buddy?"
"Brendon came over last night. I was upset about Bob."
"I went over to Spencer's last night, and one thing led to another…"
"And before I knew it we were kissing and …"
"To make long story short, we did it."
"They did it!" Jon and Ryan hissed at each other with their hands over their receivers. They sit up in bed, shoulder to shoulder.
"That's great, Spence."
"Awesome, man."
"You should have done it in the first place."
"For months we've been saying you should just do it already."
"You guys belong together."
"It's like killing two birds with one stone."
"It's like two wrongs make a right."
"How was it?" they ask together. Ryan nudges Jon with his elbow and he nudges right back.
"Like, the during part? Was totally good."
"I thought it was really good, but then maybe it wasn't?"
"And then I kinda freaked out - I had to get out of there."
"Damn, really?"
"He just got up and left. I am so pissed off, Ry."
"'m sorry. What a dick."
"I feel so bad. I'm such a dick!"
"Look, B," Jon rubs his face. "I guess it would have been cool if it worked out, but…"
"Maybe you should just never sleep with someone when you find out your ex is totally over you."
"Oh, geez, thanks a lot. Is that Jon?"
"Is Ryan talking to someone?"
"He's … talking to the cat."
"He talks in his sleep?" Jon and Ryan make faces at each other because neither can lie for shit, and they both ask, "Do you wanna come over for breakfast?" They swat at each other, then, shushing and shoving, until Spencer and Brendon both decline the offer.
"Good! I mean, it's just so early."
"Yeah, okay - but call me later, man."
"Okay, bye."
"I'll just talk to you later."
"Okay, bye."
"Bye."
There a moment of exhausted silence as Jon and Ryan flop back onto their pillows, their heads tilted together.
"Jesus."
"Tell me about it."
Ryan looks at Jon and then shifts a little closer, caving in towards him. "Tell me I'll never have to be out there again?" he says into Jon's chest.
Jon puts his arm around Ryan's shoulder and kisses his head before he scruffs his beard over Ryan messy hair. "You'll never have to be out there again," he promises.
~
Spencer sits at the table in the restaurant Brendon suggested by text message. Ordinarily he never minds communicating by text, but today he's chocked it up to cowardice on Brendon's part. He scraps his thumbnail over the crosshatch pattern of the tablecloth, huffing at himself for being early and appearing as anxious as he feels. He can't remember ever actually being nervous about seeing Brendon - except for maybe that very first time years ago in Vegas.
When he sees Brendon approach, he takes a breath and turns his anxiety inside out, leaving a cool exterior. He just wants to pretend like it didn't matter.
Like it never happened. Like it was mistake.
He just hopes he gets to say it first.
"Hey," Brendon says, taking the seat opposite. "You order yet?" He barely looks at Spencer before diving behind his menu, which is just as well because Spencer is trying to flay him with his eyes.
The waiter arrives, announcing the specials, and Spencer prolongs the distraction by ordering his dinner as particularly as he can manage, until the poor waiter walks away looking confused and frustrated.
Spencer braves up and looks at Brendon, who's chewing his lip and then suddenly bursts out with, "It was a mistake."
It's like Brendon just stabbed him with the salad fork.
"It …was," Spencer agrees, taking a drink of his ice water.
Brendon sits back in his chair with a smile. "I'm so glad you agree! I mean, not that it wasn't good!"
"No, no, it was."
"It really was."
"It's just…"
Spencer realizes in this very moment that he's never been dishonest with Brendon. He's always been truthful, even when he knew it would hurt Brendon, but right now, he can't even be honest with himself.
"We just never should have done it," he says, dismissively waving his hand.
"I am so glad you agree." Brendon lets out a little laugh, and when the salad comes, digs into his meal with vigor.
Spencer's meal is exactly as he requested, but he can't taste a thing.
~
He doesn't see Brendon for the rest of May: things keep coming up - as they do - and he spends a lot of time at Ryan and Jon's place - always making sure they don't have any visitors first - and helps them decorate for their house-warming party.
As near as Spencer can tell, Ryan has given the party a theme of 'flowers'. Ryan claims it's because the month of May has a historical significance of new life and new beginnings, but every time Spencer comes over, Jon is teasing him about how May is 'Asparagus Month' or 'No Socks Month' or how their party is on 'Towel Day.' Jon gives Spencer a smug smile every time he gets Ryan to roll his eyes and then dutifully fulfills whatever request or errand Ryan has for him.
Spencer loves to watch how they goad each other, but then he also sees how Jon's always taking pictures of Ryan and showing them off, and Ryan can't talk about anything else but Jon.
He catches them kissing in the kitchen once. Spencer pretends like he doesn't see them, but he sees enough to know how Jon squeezes the side of Ryan's ass as they lean into each other, and how Ryan grips to the back of Jon's shirt.
Most of the time, Spencer tells himself how reassuring it is that friendship and love and desire really can be compatible.
Most of the time, he believes it, too.
~
The party is gorgeous. Ryan has turned the place into an English garden and there are tiny white lights strung everywhere. The condo is packed with of all of their friends, everyone feeling the affection of their hosts.
Spencer and Brendon acknowledge each other from across the room but Spencer keeps busy 'helping' until Ryan insists that he stop fussing and enjoy the party. The moment he takes a glass of champagne and stops moving, Brendon comes up to him.
"Hi."
"Hello," Spencer says, refusing to look at him.
"You look good," Brendon says.
"Thank you," Spencer accepts. He doesn't return the compliment but Brendon is wearing the suit he wore on New Year's Eve and he actually looks sexy as hell, but thinking about that isn't going to do him any good.
"So how've you been?" Brendon asks.
"Fine."
"Are you -?"
"Brendon, don't."
"What?"
"Just don't, okay?"
"Why can't we get past this?" Brendon asks. "Are we going to do this forever?"
"Forever?" Spencer turns to face him. "It just happened."
"Three weeks ago!"
Spencer knows perfectly well how long it's been. Long enough that Brendon's number is no longer on his 'recent calls' list.
"Okay, like, you know how a year to a person is like seven years to a dog?" Brendon says.
Spencer tilts his head and waits for the alien to crawl out of Brendon's ear. "…Yes?"
Brendon holds his hands out to the side with a smile.
"Is … is one of us supposed to be the dog in this scenario?" Spencer splutters.
"Yes," Brendon says, looking pleased that Spencer understands.
"I … who is the dog?"
"You are."
"I am. I am the dog? I - " Spencer really thinks he's going to kick Brendon, for real this time, but he just can't assault someone under so many flowers and twinkling lights. He spins around towards to the back door and gestures at Brendon to follow.
"I don't see that, Brendon," he hisses in the middle of the kitchen. "If anyone is the dog, you are the dog! You want to act like what happened didn't mean anything!"
"I'm not saying it didn't mean anything. I'm just saying why does it have to mean everything?"
"Because it does! And you should know that better than anybody because the moment it happened you walked right out the door!"
"I didn't walk out."
"No, you fucking ran, more like."
"But … we both agreed that it was a mistake!" Brendon insists as Spencer turns his back again.
"Biggest mistake I ever made!" Spencer stomps down the back steps into the yard.
"What do you want from me?" Brendon demands, trailing behind him.
"Not a goddamn thing!"
"Oh, fine! Fine! But let's get one thing straight," Brendon yells at him, and Spencer blinks when he realizes that while Brendon's argued with him a million times, he's never actually shouted at Spencer in anger before. "I did not go over there that night to have sex with you! That is not what happened. But you looked at me with those sad blue eyes, all 'Hold me, Brendon', 'Just a little longer, Brendon' - what was I supposed to do?"
"What are you saying, you took pity on me?"
"No, I was-"
"Fuck you!" Spencer flings his glass and it shatters against the brick wall, drenching Brendon's face in the process. He storms back into the house because much as he wants to commit violence, he's never actually punched anyone before, and some part of him knows that he really loves Brendon or he wouldn't be this hurt by him.
Back inside, Jon and Ryan have their arms around each other, each with a glass raised and smiles big.
"Everybody, I'd like to make a toast," Jon says, his voice deep and lispy from too much beer. "To Brendon and Spencer; if me or Ryan had found either of them remotely attractive, we would not be here today."
Ryan ducks his head, laughing and Jon kisses him while everyone else turns to toast them, laughing at Spencer and Brendon who is now standing by his side.
Spencer stands there and conjures a smile that hurts him. He won't ruin this moment for Ryan, he just won't.
~
It's the first time that Spencer's really been alone. He's had his family, and then university friends, and then Bob … and then Brendon. He's always had Ryan and still does, but being with Jon is the best thing that's ever happened to Ryan, and Spencer doesn't want to interfere.
And also, having Jon in his life is an ever present reminder that Brendon isn't.
"You should date," Ryan says, as he clears off the table so they have room to eat. "Or at least get laid."
"Because that turned out so well for me last time? Ew."
To be honest, what Spencer really wants is to laugh. He realized last week that he'd gone the whole weekend without laughing once and that hadn't happened in months. Brendon made him laugh every day. Made him do something stupid everyday. Had fun.
"Is…?" Spencer digs his fingernails into his palm, but he can't stop himself, "is he seeing anyone?" he asks Ryan in a low voice, almost embarrassed that Jon might hear him.
"No," Jon answers, from where he's serving dinner at the stove. He gives Spencer a little regretful smile, for overhearing or for being Brendon's friend he's not sure. "He's not seeing anyone."
It's not that Spencer couldn't talk to Brendon if he wanted to. There are calls. There are text messages, emails, and voicemail, too. "You're not answering so I'm assuming you're A. sleeping, B. don't want to talk to me, or C. desperately want to talk to me but are trapped in your bathtub. If it's A. or C. call me back. Please?"
Spencer locks that one and listens to it often.
~
On the Fourth of July, Spencer's company has a big party. In lieu of a real date, he brings Jon and Ryan, which sounded fun at first but turns out it was the worst idea ever. 'Third wheel' can never be disguised as a 'group of friends' when two-thirds of the group is adorably stupid for each other.
So far he's been hit on by one of his bosses and by a stoned rock star, which in some other life might have made him feel pretty pleased with himself, but instead he's remembering how he stood in front of this same window with Brendon last New Year's Eve.
The view is pretty incredible with fireworks erupting over the river but Spencer remembers all the places he and Brendon have been together; the record store where they met for the third time, the Starbucks where they started to become real friends. Long walks along North Michigan Avenue and down at Navy Pier and all the dingy little bars and clubs they've seen bands.
It strikes him hard when he realizes that Brendon is really down there somewhere and probably (hopefully?) just as depressed as Spencer is. He has this irrational fantasy image of Brendon running through the city to get to him and the clarity of knowing that is not going to happen is just too much to bear.
"I'm gonna go," he tells Ryan and Jon, who are feeding each other ice cream.
"Wait till the fireworks are over," Ryan says, wiping vanilla and chocolate sauce from his nose. "Then come home with us."
"No. Sorry, I just don't have anyone and it's …"
"Aw, you can be my other date, Spence?" Jon offers, his cheeks pink as he leans on Ryan.
"Thanks, no. Just …" He waves them off and just goes because he's been avoiding this depression and he's ready to dive into it properly now.
Except that before he makes it to the exit, he looks up and finds himself staring at Brendon. There's a flickering glow of red, white, and blue over everything, but he is really there, breathing hard, and his forehead is damp and he walks slowly towards Spencer, talking.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking. No, shut up, I'm serious. And the thing is, I love you."
"What?"
"I love you," Brendon repeats. His shoulders are relaxed and he has an almost-smirk like he's making some clever announcement.
Spencer opens his mouth to say something - anything - because it can't be this easy. If it were this easy he wouldn't have carried around the crumbling remains of his pride and a broken heart for the last month. "I don't even know how you expect me to respond to this."
"I think I was kinda hoping for, you love me, too?" Brendon steps a little closer. He doesn't seem as short for some reason, his face is unshaven and he's a little dark under the eyes. Spencer's spitefully glad for it but sorry as well.
He has to get away or his driving instinct to take care of Brendon is going to derail him, and he starts toward the door. "Well I think I was kinda leaving."
"Doesn't what I said mean anything to you?"
"I'm sorry, Brendon," Spencer turns back to him. "I know you feel guilty or lonely or whatever, but you just can't show up here and think everything's all better now. It doesn't work that way!"
"Well how does it work? Tell me and I'll do it!"
"I don't know! But it isn't this."
"How's this then?" Brendon steps into Spencer's space and Spencer never backs down so it just means they're only inches apart. "I love that you own a million shoes but always wear the same pair. I love that it takes you an hour and half to order a burger. I love that you raise one eyebrow at me when I've said something totally stupid. I love that after I spend a day with you, I can still hear your laugh in my head." Brendon takes a breath but Spencer can't breathe at all. "I love that your smile is the last thing I want to see before I go to sleep at night … And it's not because I feel guilty, and it's not because I'm lonely. I came here because when you realize you're in love with your best friend, you want to tell them as soon as possible."
Spencer's not sure any oxygen is getting to his brain. It's like his armor has been unzipped and he's got no protection left.
"You see?" he says, giving Brendon a light shove to the shoulder, but he fists the fabric in his hand so Brendon doesn't move much. "That is exactly the sort of thing that you say, Brendon, and you make it so hard for me to hate you … and I really hate you."
Brendon is giving him a cautious smile, his eyebrows doing that pinched together thing and he moves closer, slipping his hands up around the back of Spencer's neck until they are pressed forehead to forehead.
"I hate you," Spencer mouths at him.
"I'm sorry," Brendon wordlessly replies.
Spencer closes his eyes and lets himself deflate a little, closing the rest of the tiny space between them.
"Spence…" Brendon whispers as he moves in to kiss him.
And this kiss, this is what was missing that night in his apartment. The way Brendon pulls at him with his hands and presses kiss after kiss to his mouth until Spencer tilts his head and parts his lips.
There are fireworks erupting outside and Spencer is pretty sure it's for them.
It turns out they were both a little bit wrong about the sex part ruining friendship.
It just took seven years to work it out.
~
A/N - Thank you for reading! I'd love to have your feedback.
When Brendon Met Spencer 2/2
~
Spencer's sisters are going on a ski trip with their boyfriends for Christmas, so his parents are coming to Chicago to stay with him. He and Brendon get together one last time before Brendon flies back to Las Vegas. They have dinner and then go out to a pretentious little jazz club near campus where one of Brendon's pseudo-celebrity piano students has a gig.
"So what do you do with these guys you sleep with?" Spencer asks once a waitress has brought them drinks. "You just get up out of bed and leave?"
"Yeah." Brendon shrugs, drinking from his bottle.
Spencer simply cannot grasp the idea of fucking someone you've only just met and then leaving like that. Everyone he's had sex with has been in a relationship or at least qualified as friendly and affectionate hook-up. "But explain how you do it. What do you say?"
Brendon shoves a handful of pretzels into his mouth and talks around them. "I just say I have an early client, a haircut, a lacrosse game..."
"You don't play lacrosse." Spencer frowns.
"But they don't know that. They just met me."
"That's disgusting. Seriously; ew."
"I know, I feel shitty about it," Brendon says, dry as can be and sips his Corona.
"You know, I am so glad I never got involved with you." Spencer viciously squeezes lime wedges into his Zima bottle, shoving them down the neck. "I would have just been a random guy that you had to slink out of bed from and leave at three o'clock in the morning with the shitty excuse of having to feed your dog - and you don't even have a dog! Not that I would know this because we just met!"
"What are you getting upset about?" Brendon sits up and sets his drink on the table. "It has nothing to do with you."
"Yes, it does. You are an offensive cliché of gay men everywhere and I am a gay man, and offended." Spencer realizes as he crosses his arms that he's flouncing and possibly being a cliché of a gay man himself, so he shifts to a more dignified posture.
"Hey, I'm not bragging here but no one's complaining - if you know what I mean."
"Of course not! You're out the door too fast."
Brendon rolls his eyes. "I think they have an okay time."
"How do you know that?"
"Believe me. I know."
"Why? Just because they come?" Spencer doesn't even mean to, but he makes a jerk off gesture as he says it.
"Yes, because they come," Brendon answers, mirroring the gesture and adds wiggly fingers for a come-shot visual at the end. "It's not like you can fake that."
Spencer snorts. "Dude, I can get off with my right hand in thirty seconds, but that doesn't mean it's good sex."
Brendon purses his lips and waves away Spencer's idea. "Trust me, I can just tell, okay?"
"But it's not hard to fake a good time."
"Well, they don't fake it with me."
"Oh, right. I forgot. Not only are you a fucking Casanova, you're a mind reader as well."
"You don't think I couldn't tell the difference?"
"No!"
"Get outta here."
Spencer narrows his eyes on Brendon for a minute. He's just so fucking cocky with his stupid cute face and his perky little ass and his stupid scruffy goatee. He just gets whatever he wants. Spencer wants to kick him in the shin.
But since he's not six years old and he's already had a few drinks tonight, the impulse to demonstrate just strikes him.
"Ooh!" he groans. Then he does it again, louder and with his eyes closed. "Ooh, god," he gasps.
"You okay?" Brendon asks.
"Oh. Oh, god." Spencer slides down in his seat, spreading his thighs wide and opening his mouth. "Ah … ah, oh, god, yeah…"
Brendon sits up and glances around them, looking uncomfortable.
"That's it!" Spencer hisses. "God, yes, yes, oh!" Spencer writhes, his stomach muscles twitching. "Ah-ah, yes. Yes! Yes!" Spencer slaps his hand on the table and grips the edge of his seat with the other. He tosses his head side to side, really making a show of it.
People are beginning to turn around and look at them, and Brendon gives them a polite nod, chewing his lip.
"Ah, god, yes! Yes! Jesus, yes!" Spencer frantically runs a hand over his hair and then he buckles forward with a long, noisy groan. "Oh, god…" he finishes, panting, sinking lower into his seat, letting his head roll back.
There's a silence for a moment as people stare and even the band has stopped playing, when Spencer suddenly sits up, smoothes his hair and picks up his Zima, raising a challenging eyebrow at Brendon, who's scratching the back of his neck.
The man in front of the microphone leans down and mutters, "Somebody buy that man a drink," which gets a muffled chuckle from the bar.
~
New Year's Eve rolls around and Spencer asks Ryan to attend his company's party with him, but he declines in order to go out with the latest unattainable man Ryan's found to treat him badly. Brendon agrees to go with him on the promise of free alcohol and sexy musicians to ogle.
Everyone still standing upright is completely wasted by midnight, and Brendon and Spencer are happily standing together by the window with the city view.
"Thanks for coming with me tonight," Spencer says. "This is fun."
"Don't be stupid. The next national holiday if neither of us is seeing anybody, you've got a date."
"Deal."
"By the way, you look great tonight, have I said?" Brendon tells him.
He has, actually, at least four times. Not that Spencer's counting. "Thanks. You, too. And you shaved! I like seeing your face again," Spencer touches Brendon's cheek.
"Yep, it's my face." Brendon makes a rubber-face expression, twisting his lips and bugging out his eyes.
Spencer shoves at him and they laugh, leaning into each other, but then nearly trip over their feet and end up clinging to each other, which turns into a tangled hug.
They do hug each other sometimes, it's no big deal, so neither resists this, they just sway side to side as music plays. It's comfortable and Spencer sighs feeling how well Brendon fits in his arms and against his body. Brendon shifts ever so slightly against him, his nose brushing against Spencer's neck and he knows they've never touched each other quite like this before.
The tension in Brendon slowly dawns on Spencer, and he holds his breath and pulls away. He looks at Brendon, his mouth right near his own and … and Brendon looks completely terrified.
"Ten! …Nine! …Eight!" the countdown to the New Year begins and interrupts the awkwardness between them.
"Wanna get out of here?" Brendon asks, his focus still on Spencer's mouth.
Spencer nods and Brendon grabs him by the hand and leads them out onto the patio just as the countdown hits one. Party horns blare while confetti and balloons drop from the ceiling. They stand near an outdoor heater with their hands shoved into their suit pockets and watch as all the couples kiss each other.
They look at each other and shrug, laughing at themselves for being idiots. Spencer leans over as Brendon goes up on his toes to kiss each other on the cheek and quickly move apart again.
~
During the bitter cold of January, Brendon and Spencer are miserable with the cold weather once it's no longer draped in holiday ribbons and sparkling lights. A TV commercial on Depression Awareness Month gives them the brilliant idea that the best way to distract themselves would be to set each other up with their best friends.
"I can't believe you talked me into this," Ryan says as he and Spencer walk the last block to the restaurant.
"Look, it's perfect. You're my best friend and Brendon is … if you two happened to work out we could all be friends together and I wouldn't have to hate whatever self-loathing, repressed asshole you were with. Wouldn't that be nice?"
"You don't hate Arthur, do you?"
Spencer stops and looks at Ryan. "If Arthur ever left his wife and I actually met him, I'm sure I would hate him."
"He's probably never going to leave her, is he?"
"No, he's not," Spencer says, as though this isn't the five hundredth time they've had this conversation.
Ryan thinks for a second and nods. "Yeah. You're right. You are." They start walking again. "So, this Brendon is cute though, right?"
"Very cute."
"Then I don't understand why you aren't dating him."
"I told you this. We're just friends."
"So he's not really that cute?"
"Ryan! He is! And he's talented and funny and, I don't know, kind of a geek."
Ryan stops walking this time. "Funny and a geek? I'm leaving."
"Shut up before I kick you in the shin. Like you're one to talk, god. Let's go before we're late."
Introductions are friendly, if only a little stiff, and are accompanied by a laughable amount of silent eye communications between them as they order.
As it turns out, the silence is better than most of the actual conversations they attempt.
"Ryan, you know Brendon's from Las Vegas, too?"
"That's right," he says. "Where'd you go to school?"
"Palo Verde. You went with Spence, right?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm." Brendon nods, a painfully polite smile on his face. "Hey Jon, Spencer's company helped organize that Battle of the Bands your store sponsored."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah, I worked on that."
"I didn't really have anything to do with that," Jon mumbles apologetically
The conversation between Ryan and Brendon doesn't appear to be going any better.
"I did read it. I just didn't like it, that's all," Brendon says.
"Well, he's only the reason I became a writer in the first place, but whatever," Ryan mutters into his glass.
Another silent round of 'I hate you for doing this to me' is exchanged while Spencer tries to think of something else to say.
"The problem with music today is that it can't reinvent itself; musicians should go back to the classics," Jon spouts in a random burst, drawing all eyes to him. He looks around the table and blushes. "I read that in an article."
"I wrote that," Ryan says, eyes fixed on Jon as if he's only just seen him.
"Nah. For real?"
"Yes. My column in the Chicago Weekly."
"That's wild, man. I never quote things."
"I've never been quoted before. This is amazing." Ryan's voice is as gentle as ever but he looks like he might burst. Spencer can't help but smile at him.
"Wow, you know I read your column every week." Jon's got this lazy little smile on his face and it's clearly only for Ryan. "You usually make a really good point and it's funny, too, but I don't know if many people get the humor."
"They don't. Nobody gets my humor."
"I do."
Jon and Ryan beam at each other with little heart-eyes so they are completely oblivious to the way that Spencer and Brendon look at them and then at each other. They exchange a disbelieving glare, lips twitching as they shake their heads. It's a mutual acknowledgment that they've just been dumped.
The rest of the meal goes easier as Jon and Ryan talk non-stop to the total exclusion of Spencer and Brendon, who they leave in stunned silence on the sidewalk after they hail a taxi while Ryan mutters something about his place being not too far away.
~
Three Months Later
~
Of all the days on the calendar for Jon and Ryan to move into their new apartment together, April's Fools Day seems the most appropriate.
"And you know what the best thing about it is?" Brendon says. "That they hired movers and didn't ask us to help them. I hate helping people move."
"Yeah, that and the fact that you have zero upper body strength to be of any use at all," Spencer mutters.
"Dude, take that back. I will challenge you to an arm wrestling duel!"
"Now why would you want to embarrass yourself like that?"
"Asshole! Fine, thumb war, then."
"No way do you stand a chance at thumb war. I would kick your and your thumb's ass."
"What the fuck does that even mean?" Brendon demands with wonky confused eyebrows before he folds up with giggles, tripping along the sidewalk and bumping into Spencer. Spencer doesn't mind occasionally being the idiot when the reward is that laugh and that smile.
He stops abruptly, however, when he looks up and sees a man standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring right at Brendon. Brendon is giggling, leaning against Spencer's arm when he looks up and follows Spencer's line of sight.
"Shane," he says.
Oh.
"Hi, Bren."
"Hi."
Brendon just stands there looking stricken and pale and like he's been kicked even though he was just laughing a moment ago. Spencer feels his neck heat as his anger flares up. Shane's eyes flicker over to Spencer for just moment, appraising him, he thinks, before he looks back at Brendon. Another guy approaches and puts a light hand on Shane's arm with an uncomfortable smile on his face.
"Brendon, this is … this is Carlo."
"You're back early," Brendon says, not acknowledging Carlo at all.
"Um, yeah. I am," Shane answers. He looks back and forth from Brendon to Spencer, waiting for an introduction. The thing is, for all Spencer wants to hate Shane for hurting Brendon, now that he sees the apologetic way he's looks at Brendon, he can't really.
"Hi. I'm Spencer Smith."
"Pleased to meet you, Spencer," Shane says and introduces himself since Brendon isn't offering it. Spencer and Carlo exchange a nod but Brendon and Shane are back to staring at each other.
"Well, we should go," Shane says. He's got such a gentle voice and easy demeanor that Spencer's entire perception of him changes.
"Yeah. Yeah," Brendon mutters.
"We should talk sometime," Shane offers. It's a platitude, really, but it's also a gesture that Spencer respects.
"Right. Oh, definitely," Brendon says, with a robotic nod and a wave.
They walk in silence for half a block before Spencer asks if he's okay.
"Yeah. 'm fine. I mean, Carlo?" he lets out a cold laugh. "Most people go to Costa Rica and come back with a tan, but Shane comes back with a Carlo!"
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine. It had to happen at some point. City as big as Chicago, we couldn't possibly avoid each other for long. So it's done now. It's fine. It's totally fine."
~
Ryan and Jon are their usual love-struck selves, tripping over each other with affection while they trip over boxes and two apartments' worth of furniture in disarray.
"It's just that I can't watch the game on a Curly Q chaise lounge, Ry. I can't," Jon's voice drips with over polite affection.
"But the chaise in an attractive piece of furniture and not …that." Ryan points at Jon's oversized, brown Lazy-Boy. "Spence?"
Spencer just shakes his head and smiles. So not getting into that one. No way.
"You can make all the decorating choices, okay? Anything you want. But, my chair," Jon insists, as gently as he can. Spencer would find this exchange annoying already if he weren't tense from the energy arcing off of Brendon.
"We can get you a new chair. A better looking chair," Ryan offers.
"But it's a great chair! There's nothing wrong with it."
"Jon, sometimes when you love something, you can't see it for what it really is, but-"
"You know, it's funny,” Brendon says, his tone so cold that Jon and Ryan look over with wide eyes. "This is how we used be, Shane and I…"
"Can we not do this now?" Spencer mutters, leaning towards him.
"Oh, no, I think it's the perfect time to do this. I want our friends to benefit from my experience." He turns on Jon and Ryan, all narrow eyes and big gestures. "Right now, everything is great. Everything is wonderful, everyone is in love; but eventually, you'll wake up one day and find out that everything that you thought was yours, isn't anymore, oh and by the way 'Can you please be out by next Wednesday?'"
"Brendon…" Spencer tries to intervene. Ryan retreats close to Jon, who puts an arm around his waist.
"No, no. You know it's true just as well as I do, Spencer. It doesn't matter if the chair is ugly or if it matches. Eventually, there won't be a happy home to keep it in anyway!"
"You think my chair is ugly?" Jon asks.
"Yes!" Brendon shouts, flinging his arms in the air and then storms out the front door.
"Um. He saw Shane today," Spencer explains in the ringing silence left in Brendon's wake.
"Oh, should I…?" Jon asks, taking a step.
"No, no. You guys just…" Spencer waves at them and the chair. "I'll go."
Outside, Brendon is kicking a discarded moving box against the wall.
"I know, I know, I shouldn't have yelled at them." Brendon stops kicking the box and crosses his arms, chewing on his thumbnail.
"Brendon, you're going to have to learn not to express every thought and feeling you have, the moment you have them."
"Oh really? You think? I'm so sorry, do you have anymore pearls of wisdom for me today?"
"Hey, you don't need to be a dick to me just because you're upset."
"I think I'm entitled when the Ice Queen is trying to give me life advice." Brendon kicks the box again.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means nothing bothers you! You don't get upset about anything. You never get upset about Bob, you never talk about him - how is that possible?"
"I'm not going to take this shit from you," Spencer snaps and turns to go back into the house but Brendon follows and gets in his face.
"If you're really so over Bob, why aren't you seeing anyone?"
"I do see people!"
"Please, 'see people'. Have you slept with one person since you broke up with Bob?"
"That will prove I'm over him? Because I've fucked somebody?" Spencer shouts at him. "Listen, I will go to bed with someone when it means something to me, not the way you do it, like you're out for revenge for something!"
Spencer forgets how loud his voice can get until he see Brendon blinking up at him.
"Can I say something now?" he asks, his shoulders hunched around his ears.
"Yes." Spencer takes a calming breath and brushes his hair out of his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he says, moving to hug Spencer.
Spencer pulls him close, petting over the back of Brendon's head.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Brendon mutters into Spencer's ear, squeezing him tight.
They stand like that for a minute, Brendon clinging while Spencer runs his hands up and down Brendon's back. "Shh, I know. It's okay …"
He feels jitters from coming off the adrenaline spike and pulls back to see the same weariness in Brendon's face. It's scary to fight with someone you care about and that's a much greater issue than what they were actually arguing about.
"You okay?" he asks, cupping Brendon's cheek for just a moment. They exchange apologetic smiles before returning inside to help Jon and Ryan make a mess of things.
~
Spencer's company gets overwhelmed during the spring months with bands tail-spinning out of control at the end of winter tours and preparing them for the summer festivals. He's barely had time to see Ryan and Jon. Brendon meets him for lunch or accompanies him on random adventures like acquiring an ice cream truck for a music video. "I knew you were going to destroy the music industry," Brendon had teased, just before he said, "Ohh! It plays music."
Now Spencer sits numb, staring at his computer screen. Once he manages some control over his shaking hands, he goes for the vodka in the freezer and his cell phone.
"'sup?" Brendon answers in that airy, off-hand voice that sounds like he's actually doing something.
Spencer tries to talk normally but at the moment he doesn't know what that is. "Um, are you busy?"
Brendon pauses. "No. What is it?" he asks, his concern is obvious so Spencer doesn't bother trying to pretend.
"It's … it's Bob."
"I'll be right over."
Spencer's managed to choke down one coffee mug of vodka before Brendon knocks on the door as he opens it.
"Spence?" he calls, peering into the living room.
"Hi." Spencer doesn't even recognize his own voice. "I'm sorry. Did you have plans? You look like you had plans," he says, noticing Brendon's wearing his good jeans with a button-down shirt and a vest. He looks down at himself and feels disgusting, inside and out, in his sweat pants and a too-tight t-shirt, and he knows he must be all splotchy and pink-faced.
"Nah … Hey, you all right?"
"I think I want some socks."
Brendon blinks, glances at the vodka, but says, "Okay. You wanna tell me what's up?"
Spencer can feel himself choking up, he takes a breath and struggles to find a way to start and finds himself at complete loss. He just waves his mug and bottle aimlessly and walks toward the bedroom, and it all just spills out. "Well, I was working at first. And then I was just fucking around online, you know, like, ninja-cat videos on YouTube and shit - shut up - and email. I was checking in with the family on Facebook, and there it was: Bob is now in a relationship with Jeffrey. Just, I mean, Jeffrey, what kind of name is that, anyway?"
"It's a stupid name. A really, really bad name." Brendon nods with sympathy at Spencer's ranting.
"I know! It really is. 'Jeffrey'. And so then - and I'm not ashamed to admit it - I creeper-stalked him online."
"Of course. That's totally what one does."
"Right? So, he has a MySpace … with pictures." Spencer sits on the bed next to Brendon with a flump and takes a deep breath. "They have three dogs and they went on a vacation together. Bob and Jeffrey. With the dogs."
"Yeah?"
"They have dogs together! He's supposed to be Bob's transitional person, he's not supposed to have pets with him!"
"Oh, right. I see."
"I wanted to get a dog. I like dogs! But he never wanted one. He said we worked too much and who wants to walk a dog in the winter, anyway?" Spencer drinks, inhaling after he swallows the sharp cold of straight vodka.
"Dude, easy, that's not one of Ryan's fruit-tinis. How much have you had?" Brendon asks, taking the bottle from him.
"Not enough yet. Give it back."
"Nuh-uh." Brendon sets it down on the nightstand and turns back to Spencer. "So Bob's moved on, huh?"
Spencer nods, wiping at his nose with the back of his wrist and stares at the floor. "All this time I thought Bob just didn't want that kind of life. But the truth is …he just didn't want it with me. He didn't love me."
He glances at Brendon, whose eyes are big and full of empathy.
"If you could have him back right now, would you?" Brendon asks.
"No." Spencer flails his arms and Brendon takes the still full mug from his hand. "But why didn't he want me?"
He flops back onto the bed, knowing full well he's putting Ryan's flouncing to the test, but Brendon sets the mug on the table and lies down facing him.
"What's the matter with me?" he asks, hating the whine in his voice.
"Nothing," Brendon says, brushing Spencer's hair out of his eyes.
"I'm difficult."
"You're challenging."
"I'm too structured and judgmental."
"But in a good way."
Spencer really thinks if Brendon keeps being nice to him in the midst of his self-abuse, he really might cry after all. "No. No, no, I drove him away. I was demanding too much." Spencer's chest feels solid and like he can't breath, all his failures and insecurities piling on at once, he sits up and Brendon sits, too. " … And I'm gonna be thirty."
"What? When?"
"Eventually."
"In like, five years," Brendon says, his bottom lips twisting, trying not to smirk, which makes Spencer laugh.
A laugh which lets loose a knot of emotion in his throat and he presses both hands over his face, scrubbing at his eyes.
"Oh, hey, come here." Brendon scoots close and pulls Spencer against his chest, rocking him. "It's okay. It'll be okay," he soothes.
"I'm not crying," Spencer mumbles into Brendon's shirt.
"I know." Brendon squeezes him and runs a hand over Spencer's head and he melts a little closer. "It'd be okay if you did. The snot'd blend in to the pattern."
Spencer chuckles. He lets Brendon rock him side to side a little longer, still squeezing his shoulders, rubbing his back, and even pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he eventually sits up, still clutching Brendon's shirt.
"I feel stupid now."
"No," Brendon says, cupping his cheek and darts close enough to press a quick kiss to Spencer's mouth.
"Thanks."
"Sure …I'll go make some coffee, 'kay?"
Brendon starts to get up but Spencer doesn't want to let go yet. "Brendon, wait. Can you just, wait, another minute?"
"Yeah." Brendon shifts closer and they hug again. "Aww, hey …" he says, which doesn't really mean anything sensible but it makes Spencer smile because Brendon has got absolutely zero words of comfort to offer, and yet, he's still here and he's holding Spencer and he's not making him feel like an ass, and that alone is some comfort.
He sits back again, ducking his head, and Brendon tips his chin up with his fingers and kisses him again. It's just a sweet, friendly kiss, but the thing is, Spencer likes it. He likes that Brendon cancelled his plans the moment he called, and he likes that Brendon doesn't try to fix things. He looks into Brendon's eyes, slightly crinkled at the corners with concern and friendship and his mouth is just…
Spencer leans forward and kisses him. No thinking, he just does it, and he can feel Brendon freeze but Spencer presses again, and after a pause Brendon exhales through his nose and very cautiously kisses Spencer back.
All the while their lips are moving against each other, Spencer isn't thinking about anything but yes, this because one half of him aches from the hurt, while the other half just wants. Maybe that's a dangerous combination, but he wants Brendon. Every little touch and joke and argument between them makes Spencer feel grounded and right, and as he feels himself lying back onto his bed with Brendon pressed again him and feels like this is everything that is right, too.
Brendon's hand grips his waist, just under the hem of his shirt while he feels along Brendon's front, unbuttoning him from the top, down, and once the shirt is open, he moves onto his belt.
"Uh…" Brendon shuffles backwards until he's standing, breathing hard and wiping his mouth dry.
"Yeah, easier this way," Spencer says as he sits forward and unbuckles Brendon's belt, opens his pants, pushing at them until Brendon helps with a whimper.
"Spence?" Brendon asks, startling every time Spencer touches his skin, kissing across his torso. It's kind of cute, because Spencer knows that Brendon is generally down with getting naked at the slightest request, but all this nervousness for him is kind of endearing. Spencer kicks off his sweats and t-shirt, feeling a little shy about it, and Brendon undresses, too, moving slowly, and when Spencer takes out a bottle and condom and lies them on the bed next to him, "I want, want you to. Okay?" Brendon just nods and climbs over Spencer, kissing him again.
Brendon's amazing with his mouth and careful with his fingers, letting Spencer bliss out on the intensity of it all until finally, impatient, Spencer sits forward and puts the condom on Brendon himself.
He clings, he knows he does, while Brendon fucks him, leaning up to kiss Brendon's neck and chest and letting his hands roam every bit of bare skin he can reach.
"Open your eyes," Spencer tells him. Brendon complies, but only for a moment before squeezing them shut again, pausing to reach for Spencer's hand to wrap around his own cock.
"You've gotta … c'mon, Spence, I won't last much longer."
It's easy to come with Brendon inside of him and he watches how Brendon screws up his face and groans a minute later, when he finally lets himself thrust hard and fast.
~
Spencer, exhausted with emotion and exertion, sleeps with his forehead pressed against the curve of Brendon's shoulder, the knuckles of his curled hand at Brendon's waist.
He's had several dates and exactly three blowjobs since he broke up with Bob, and all heartstrings and awkwardness aside, having sex with Brendon leaves him feeling raw in every way. He's not as off put by the feeling as he'd imagine.
Spencer wakes the moment Brendon slides out of bed in the early hours of the morning, hears him use the bathroom, and Spencer smiles into the pillow, waiting for him to slip back, warm and naked, under the covers with him, when he hears the jingle of Brendon's belt instead.
Spencer squints into the dim light, props himself on his elbow, and asks, "Where're you going?" as he pulls the sheet over his chest.
Brendon looks surprised but then gives Spencer an apologetic smile.
"I've got to go, um," he says, glancing at Spencer as he steps into his jeans and buttons up. The bottom falls out of Spencer's stomach as he watches Brendon shrug into his shirt and stuff his bare feet into his shoes. "I've got an early piano lesson. I've got to go home and shower first, you know."
Spencer leans back against the pillows and pulls the blanket up higher around his shoulders.
"And you've gotta work, too, right?" Brendon adds, standing next to the bed, wringing his socks and his vest in his hands, making Spencer feel incredibly naked under the blankets as he looks up at him.
"Yeah, right…"
"Right," Brendon agrees and he looks into Spencer's eyes, but they are dull and distant, like he's trying not to actually see Spencer at all. "But after, I thought we'd catch some dinner, okay?"
"Okay?" Spencer's too stunned to say anything. He can think of plenty, he just can't settle on any one thing.
"Okay!" Brendon fidgets for a moment before he leans over and kisses the top of Spencer's head and then makes a beeline for the door. "I'll call you."
~
Jon is curved around Ryan's back, his forehead mushed between Ryan's shoulder blades, when the cell phone on the nightstand buzzes.
Ryan startles to alertness with a gasp and the assumption that only bad news calls between twelve and six a.m.
Jon puts a soothing hand over Ryan's pounding heart as he answers, "Hello?"
"I'm sorry to call so early," Spencer says.
"What is it?" Ryan asks.
"None of our friends would call this early," Jon mumbles through a yawn, when his phone rings, too.
"I did something terrible," Spencer says. "I feel like shit."
"None of our friends would call this early," Jon repeats into the cell by way of an answer.
"I need to talk to you," Brendon tells him.
"What did you do?"
"Whatsa matter, buddy?"
"Brendon came over last night. I was upset about Bob."
"I went over to Spencer's last night, and one thing led to another…"
"And before I knew it we were kissing and …"
"To make long story short, we did it."
"They did it!" Jon and Ryan hissed at each other with their hands over their receivers. They sit up in bed, shoulder to shoulder.
"That's great, Spence."
"Awesome, man."
"You should have done it in the first place."
"For months we've been saying you should just do it already."
"You guys belong together."
"It's like killing two birds with one stone."
"It's like two wrongs make a right."
"How was it?" they ask together. Ryan nudges Jon with his elbow and he nudges right back.
"Like, the during part? Was totally good."
"I thought it was really good, but then maybe it wasn't?"
"And then I kinda freaked out - I had to get out of there."
"Damn, really?"
"He just got up and left. I am so pissed off, Ry."
"'m sorry. What a dick."
"I feel so bad. I'm such a dick!"
"Look, B," Jon rubs his face. "I guess it would have been cool if it worked out, but…"
"Maybe you should just never sleep with someone when you find out your ex is totally over you."
"Oh, geez, thanks a lot. Is that Jon?"
"Is Ryan talking to someone?"
"He's … talking to the cat."
"He talks in his sleep?" Jon and Ryan make faces at each other because neither can lie for shit, and they both ask, "Do you wanna come over for breakfast?" They swat at each other, then, shushing and shoving, until Spencer and Brendon both decline the offer.
"Good! I mean, it's just so early."
"Yeah, okay - but call me later, man."
"Okay, bye."
"I'll just talk to you later."
"Okay, bye."
"Bye."
There a moment of exhausted silence as Jon and Ryan flop back onto their pillows, their heads tilted together.
"Jesus."
"Tell me about it."
Ryan looks at Jon and then shifts a little closer, caving in towards him. "Tell me I'll never have to be out there again?" he says into Jon's chest.
Jon puts his arm around Ryan's shoulder and kisses his head before he scruffs his beard over Ryan messy hair. "You'll never have to be out there again," he promises.
~
Spencer sits at the table in the restaurant Brendon suggested by text message. Ordinarily he never minds communicating by text, but today he's chocked it up to cowardice on Brendon's part. He scraps his thumbnail over the crosshatch pattern of the tablecloth, huffing at himself for being early and appearing as anxious as he feels. He can't remember ever actually being nervous about seeing Brendon - except for maybe that very first time years ago in Vegas.
When he sees Brendon approach, he takes a breath and turns his anxiety inside out, leaving a cool exterior. He just wants to pretend like it didn't matter.
Like it never happened. Like it was mistake.
He just hopes he gets to say it first.
"Hey," Brendon says, taking the seat opposite. "You order yet?" He barely looks at Spencer before diving behind his menu, which is just as well because Spencer is trying to flay him with his eyes.
The waiter arrives, announcing the specials, and Spencer prolongs the distraction by ordering his dinner as particularly as he can manage, until the poor waiter walks away looking confused and frustrated.
Spencer braves up and looks at Brendon, who's chewing his lip and then suddenly bursts out with, "It was a mistake."
It's like Brendon just stabbed him with the salad fork.
"It …was," Spencer agrees, taking a drink of his ice water.
Brendon sits back in his chair with a smile. "I'm so glad you agree! I mean, not that it wasn't good!"
"No, no, it was."
"It really was."
"It's just…"
Spencer realizes in this very moment that he's never been dishonest with Brendon. He's always been truthful, even when he knew it would hurt Brendon, but right now, he can't even be honest with himself.
"We just never should have done it," he says, dismissively waving his hand.
"I am so glad you agree." Brendon lets out a little laugh, and when the salad comes, digs into his meal with vigor.
Spencer's meal is exactly as he requested, but he can't taste a thing.
~
He doesn't see Brendon for the rest of May: things keep coming up - as they do - and he spends a lot of time at Ryan and Jon's place - always making sure they don't have any visitors first - and helps them decorate for their house-warming party.
As near as Spencer can tell, Ryan has given the party a theme of 'flowers'. Ryan claims it's because the month of May has a historical significance of new life and new beginnings, but every time Spencer comes over, Jon is teasing him about how May is 'Asparagus Month' or 'No Socks Month' or how their party is on 'Towel Day.' Jon gives Spencer a smug smile every time he gets Ryan to roll his eyes and then dutifully fulfills whatever request or errand Ryan has for him.
Spencer loves to watch how they goad each other, but then he also sees how Jon's always taking pictures of Ryan and showing them off, and Ryan can't talk about anything else but Jon.
He catches them kissing in the kitchen once. Spencer pretends like he doesn't see them, but he sees enough to know how Jon squeezes the side of Ryan's ass as they lean into each other, and how Ryan grips to the back of Jon's shirt.
Most of the time, Spencer tells himself how reassuring it is that friendship and love and desire really can be compatible.
Most of the time, he believes it, too.
~
The party is gorgeous. Ryan has turned the place into an English garden and there are tiny white lights strung everywhere. The condo is packed with of all of their friends, everyone feeling the affection of their hosts.
Spencer and Brendon acknowledge each other from across the room but Spencer keeps busy 'helping' until Ryan insists that he stop fussing and enjoy the party. The moment he takes a glass of champagne and stops moving, Brendon comes up to him.
"Hi."
"Hello," Spencer says, refusing to look at him.
"You look good," Brendon says.
"Thank you," Spencer accepts. He doesn't return the compliment but Brendon is wearing the suit he wore on New Year's Eve and he actually looks sexy as hell, but thinking about that isn't going to do him any good.
"So how've you been?" Brendon asks.
"Fine."
"Are you -?"
"Brendon, don't."
"What?"
"Just don't, okay?"
"Why can't we get past this?" Brendon asks. "Are we going to do this forever?"
"Forever?" Spencer turns to face him. "It just happened."
"Three weeks ago!"
Spencer knows perfectly well how long it's been. Long enough that Brendon's number is no longer on his 'recent calls' list.
"Okay, like, you know how a year to a person is like seven years to a dog?" Brendon says.
Spencer tilts his head and waits for the alien to crawl out of Brendon's ear. "…Yes?"
Brendon holds his hands out to the side with a smile.
"Is … is one of us supposed to be the dog in this scenario?" Spencer splutters.
"Yes," Brendon says, looking pleased that Spencer understands.
"I … who is the dog?"
"You are."
"I am. I am the dog? I - " Spencer really thinks he's going to kick Brendon, for real this time, but he just can't assault someone under so many flowers and twinkling lights. He spins around towards to the back door and gestures at Brendon to follow.
"I don't see that, Brendon," he hisses in the middle of the kitchen. "If anyone is the dog, you are the dog! You want to act like what happened didn't mean anything!"
"I'm not saying it didn't mean anything. I'm just saying why does it have to mean everything?"
"Because it does! And you should know that better than anybody because the moment it happened you walked right out the door!"
"I didn't walk out."
"No, you fucking ran, more like."
"But … we both agreed that it was a mistake!" Brendon insists as Spencer turns his back again.
"Biggest mistake I ever made!" Spencer stomps down the back steps into the yard.
"What do you want from me?" Brendon demands, trailing behind him.
"Not a goddamn thing!"
"Oh, fine! Fine! But let's get one thing straight," Brendon yells at him, and Spencer blinks when he realizes that while Brendon's argued with him a million times, he's never actually shouted at Spencer in anger before. "I did not go over there that night to have sex with you! That is not what happened. But you looked at me with those sad blue eyes, all 'Hold me, Brendon', 'Just a little longer, Brendon' - what was I supposed to do?"
"What are you saying, you took pity on me?"
"No, I was-"
"Fuck you!" Spencer flings his glass and it shatters against the brick wall, drenching Brendon's face in the process. He storms back into the house because much as he wants to commit violence, he's never actually punched anyone before, and some part of him knows that he really loves Brendon or he wouldn't be this hurt by him.
Back inside, Jon and Ryan have their arms around each other, each with a glass raised and smiles big.
"Everybody, I'd like to make a toast," Jon says, his voice deep and lispy from too much beer. "To Brendon and Spencer; if me or Ryan had found either of them remotely attractive, we would not be here today."
Ryan ducks his head, laughing and Jon kisses him while everyone else turns to toast them, laughing at Spencer and Brendon who is now standing by his side.
Spencer stands there and conjures a smile that hurts him. He won't ruin this moment for Ryan, he just won't.
~
It's the first time that Spencer's really been alone. He's had his family, and then university friends, and then Bob … and then Brendon. He's always had Ryan and still does, but being with Jon is the best thing that's ever happened to Ryan, and Spencer doesn't want to interfere.
And also, having Jon in his life is an ever present reminder that Brendon isn't.
"You should date," Ryan says, as he clears off the table so they have room to eat. "Or at least get laid."
"Because that turned out so well for me last time? Ew."
To be honest, what Spencer really wants is to laugh. He realized last week that he'd gone the whole weekend without laughing once and that hadn't happened in months. Brendon made him laugh every day. Made him do something stupid everyday. Had fun.
"Is…?" Spencer digs his fingernails into his palm, but he can't stop himself, "is he seeing anyone?" he asks Ryan in a low voice, almost embarrassed that Jon might hear him.
"No," Jon answers, from where he's serving dinner at the stove. He gives Spencer a little regretful smile, for overhearing or for being Brendon's friend he's not sure. "He's not seeing anyone."
It's not that Spencer couldn't talk to Brendon if he wanted to. There are calls. There are text messages, emails, and voicemail, too. "You're not answering so I'm assuming you're A. sleeping, B. don't want to talk to me, or C. desperately want to talk to me but are trapped in your bathtub. If it's A. or C. call me back. Please?"
Spencer locks that one and listens to it often.
~
On the Fourth of July, Spencer's company has a big party. In lieu of a real date, he brings Jon and Ryan, which sounded fun at first but turns out it was the worst idea ever. 'Third wheel' can never be disguised as a 'group of friends' when two-thirds of the group is adorably stupid for each other.
So far he's been hit on by one of his bosses and by a stoned rock star, which in some other life might have made him feel pretty pleased with himself, but instead he's remembering how he stood in front of this same window with Brendon last New Year's Eve.
The view is pretty incredible with fireworks erupting over the river but Spencer remembers all the places he and Brendon have been together; the record store where they met for the third time, the Starbucks where they started to become real friends. Long walks along North Michigan Avenue and down at Navy Pier and all the dingy little bars and clubs they've seen bands.
It strikes him hard when he realizes that Brendon is really down there somewhere and probably (hopefully?) just as depressed as Spencer is. He has this irrational fantasy image of Brendon running through the city to get to him and the clarity of knowing that is not going to happen is just too much to bear.
"I'm gonna go," he tells Ryan and Jon, who are feeding each other ice cream.
"Wait till the fireworks are over," Ryan says, wiping vanilla and chocolate sauce from his nose. "Then come home with us."
"No. Sorry, I just don't have anyone and it's …"
"Aw, you can be my other date, Spence?" Jon offers, his cheeks pink as he leans on Ryan.
"Thanks, no. Just …" He waves them off and just goes because he's been avoiding this depression and he's ready to dive into it properly now.
Except that before he makes it to the exit, he looks up and finds himself staring at Brendon. There's a flickering glow of red, white, and blue over everything, but he is really there, breathing hard, and his forehead is damp and he walks slowly towards Spencer, talking.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking. No, shut up, I'm serious. And the thing is, I love you."
"What?"
"I love you," Brendon repeats. His shoulders are relaxed and he has an almost-smirk like he's making some clever announcement.
Spencer opens his mouth to say something - anything - because it can't be this easy. If it were this easy he wouldn't have carried around the crumbling remains of his pride and a broken heart for the last month. "I don't even know how you expect me to respond to this."
"I think I was kinda hoping for, you love me, too?" Brendon steps a little closer. He doesn't seem as short for some reason, his face is unshaven and he's a little dark under the eyes. Spencer's spitefully glad for it but sorry as well.
He has to get away or his driving instinct to take care of Brendon is going to derail him, and he starts toward the door. "Well I think I was kinda leaving."
"Doesn't what I said mean anything to you?"
"I'm sorry, Brendon," Spencer turns back to him. "I know you feel guilty or lonely or whatever, but you just can't show up here and think everything's all better now. It doesn't work that way!"
"Well how does it work? Tell me and I'll do it!"
"I don't know! But it isn't this."
"How's this then?" Brendon steps into Spencer's space and Spencer never backs down so it just means they're only inches apart. "I love that you own a million shoes but always wear the same pair. I love that it takes you an hour and half to order a burger. I love that you raise one eyebrow at me when I've said something totally stupid. I love that after I spend a day with you, I can still hear your laugh in my head." Brendon takes a breath but Spencer can't breathe at all. "I love that your smile is the last thing I want to see before I go to sleep at night … And it's not because I feel guilty, and it's not because I'm lonely. I came here because when you realize you're in love with your best friend, you want to tell them as soon as possible."
Spencer's not sure any oxygen is getting to his brain. It's like his armor has been unzipped and he's got no protection left.
"You see?" he says, giving Brendon a light shove to the shoulder, but he fists the fabric in his hand so Brendon doesn't move much. "That is exactly the sort of thing that you say, Brendon, and you make it so hard for me to hate you … and I really hate you."
Brendon is giving him a cautious smile, his eyebrows doing that pinched together thing and he moves closer, slipping his hands up around the back of Spencer's neck until they are pressed forehead to forehead.
"I hate you," Spencer mouths at him.
"I'm sorry," Brendon wordlessly replies.
Spencer closes his eyes and lets himself deflate a little, closing the rest of the tiny space between them.
"Spence…" Brendon whispers as he moves in to kiss him.
And this kiss, this is what was missing that night in his apartment. The way Brendon pulls at him with his hands and presses kiss after kiss to his mouth until Spencer tilts his head and parts his lips.
There are fireworks erupting outside and Spencer is pretty sure it's for them.
It turns out they were both a little bit wrong about the sex part ruining friendship.
It just took seven years to work it out.
~
A/N - Thank you for reading! I'd love to have your feedback.