When Life Gives You Lemons - Part One - Brendon/Spencer
When Life Gives You Lemons (Say Fuck the Lemons and Bail)
Brendon/Spencer // NC17 // 26,500 words
Brendon and Spencer go on a cruise to escape their problems. They end up finding more than rest and relaxation.
Written for bandombigbang 2009. Thanks to playfullips and cheapcrowd for encouragement and a final read through. So many thanks to ericaplease for the beta job. You made all the difference. Special thanks to both cheapcrowd and nasssty_slyth for their amazing mix and art. ♥
Ryan buys Keltie a promise ring at the end of HCT. It sits on the table in Ryan's kitchen, the garnet glinting where the sun hits it, and Brendon feels like it's mocking him. He has to use every ounce of his will power to stop himself from sticking his tongue out at it.
"So, what do you guys think?" Ryan asks.
"I think we should get high," Spencer answers, pulling a bag of weed and a small glass bong from under the couch.
The entire situation is so illogical that Brendon thinks getting high might be the only way to wrap their minds around the idea of Ryan promising anything to anyone. Ryan can't even make a commitment to his toothbrush twice a day, let alone give Keltie what she needs from a relationship.
Brendon's pretty sure Spencer knows this, too, but one of the things Brendon loves most about Spencer is that he's pretty content to let people fuck up their own lives in their own ways. Brendon knows Spencer will never say anything to Ryan. He supposes that's why their friendship has lasted as long as it has. Whenever one of them is doing something monumentally stupid, the other one looks away and pretends it isn't happening.
Brendon grabs the bong off the table as soon as Spencer's done loading the bowl. Spencer says, "Dude, give that back," right about the time that Brendon looks up over the rim and asks, "Are you going to give me a fucking lighter or what?"
Brendon really needs to get high right now.
"No one cares about my ring," Ryan says. He gives them all a stern and disappointed look.
Jon says, "Hey! What did I do?" Which is fair, because Jon didn't even roll his eyes once while Ryan explained the ring's symbolism and how it was going to take his relationship with Keltie to "another level".
"I'm getting us all high so that we can pretend to care about your ring," Spencer says. "And before you thank me for that, let me just say that there's no need. I am your best fucking friend. I got your back, man."
Ryan looks between the three of them and sighs. "What do you think?" he asks, turning his full attention on Brendon.
"I think I'm moving to L.A. when Shane goes. He asked me, and I don't know," Brendon says.
It's something he's been thinking about, mulling over since Shane decided to make the move over a month ago. He can also finally admit to himself that Ryan was the factor that had kept him from making a decision, just as Brendon knows it's Ryan and his goddamn ring that's finally pushing him to make one now. Brendon feels like he and Ryan have been playing a game of cause and effect for years now.
Spencer sits up straight on the couch, studying Brendon. At the same time, Ryan's eyes take on a faraway look, detached and maybe even a little cold, but he doesn't look away. Brendon feels like an ant under a magnifying glass, like Spencer is trying to figure out how he works at the same time that Ryan is trying to forget.
"Stop hogging the weed," Jon says, and Brendon blinks, startling a little so that some of the water sloshes up the side of the bong. He passes it over. When he looks back, neither Ryan nor Spencer is looking at him anymore.
The move to L.A. goes pretty smoothly. Brendon doesn't have much time to settle before it's time to tour again. He's still living out of boxes and that makes it a little difficult to pack for tour. He can't find half of his T-shirts which means he has about three things to wear that aren't his stage clothes.
"Where the fuck are my shirts?" Brendon yells.
Shane comes ambling in, leaning against the door frame and taking in the wreckage of Brendon's room. "Probably wherever you left them?" he counters.
"Thanks mom," Brendon says, opening yet another box that has some Tupperware and two throw pillows inside. "Who the fuck even packed this?" he asks.
Shane shrugs, pushing away from the door frame when the doorbell rings.
"Can you -- " Brendon starts, but Shane is already walking down the hallway to see who it is.
Brendon blows out a frustrated breath and pulls another box open. It's full of wires and cords to various electronics, some of which Brendon doesn't even think he owns anymore.
Brendon jumps when he hears Shane's voice at the door followed by a loud whoop and laughter. It's enough to peak his curiosity. He crawls across his floor, leans through the doorway and looks down the hall in time to see Spencer walking toward his room. He has a duffel slung over one shoulder and he's dragging a Target bag in his other hand.
"I brought an air mattress," Spencer says, dropping his bag on the floor by Brendon's hand.
"I can't find my shirts," Brendon says.
Spencer looks past Brendon and into his room. There's shit everywhere, covering so much of the floor that there's barely any visible carpet left.
"Hmm," Spencer says. "We should shovel out a space to set up my sweet bed and then we can go to the thrift store. They're bound to have something stupid enough that you'll wear it."
"Fuck you," Brendon says. "My shirts are awesome."
"And that's why they're too ashamed to make an appearance," Spencer says. "Come on. I brought beer, and Shane has weed, and Haley called me yesterday to say that she's not moving back to Vegas after all. I need to get fucked up."
Brendon sits back on his knees and looks up at Spencer, and that's just... Well that's just like Spencer to blow off a three year relationship while insulting Brendon's wardrobe in the same breath.
"Fuck," Brendon says. "What happened?"
"She's happy at home," Spencer says. "She's... she's just happy."
"You want to talk about it?" Brendon asks because he's a good friend, and if Spencer wants to pour his heart out Brendon will listen -- even if he really, really doesn't want to.
"Fuck no," Spencer says. "I'm okay. I'm happy, too."
Brendon doesn't think Spencer looks particularly happy, but Brendon also isn't going to push.
"What kind of beer did you bring?" Brendon asks.
"The good kind," Spencer answers.
Ryan and Jon show up in L.A. a couple of days later. They hang out by the pool in between rehearsals, messing around with some of the new stuff they've all been working on over the past few months.
"I was thinking that after Rock Band, we should be done touring for this album," Ryan says.
Brendon's been thinking it, too, but no matter how much time has passed -- no matter how long it's been their band -- there's always a small part of Brendon's brain that waits for Ryan to decide first. Brendon knows Jon and Spencer do the same thing in their own ways, little moments where they all wait for Ryan's thoughts before voicing their own.
"I think it's definitely time to work on new material, and it's going to be easier if we're not on the road," Ryan continues.
"Yeah," Jon says, and Brendon and Spencer nod along. If any of them have anything more to add, no one says it.
They all go to bed late, but Brendon can't sleep.
"You're breathing too loud," Spencer says from his spot on the floor.
Brendon lets out an even louder breath, followed by a nervous laugh. "That's just your bed losing air," he says.
There's rustling and then the bed dips. Spencer steals one of Brendon's pillows and lays down facing him. "You excited?" he asks.
"It's tour. Same shit, different day."
"Then go to sleep," Spencer says.
"You first," Brendon says.
Spencer sighs and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and taking deep, rhythmic breaths. "Wanna play some Mario Kart?" he asks.
Brendon sits up and turns on the lamp by his bed, blinking to let his eyes adjust to the light. "Sure," he says. "Best two out of three?"
Spencer nods and says, "And then we sleep."
Brendon's never been much of a sleeper. It's not insomnia, really. He sleeps enough, but usually in small stretches -- like if he's out too long he'll miss something.
It's easier on tour. There's a certain routine to traveling; unloading equipment, eating catered meals, meet and greets, interviews, fans, and a show almost every night. It's not normal, but the repetition is soothing somehow. There's something strangely freeing about having his entire day planned out for him. It's nice to turn his brain off and just go where Zack tells him to go.
On tour, Brendon can sleep. He's usually still the last one to go to bed, but he's mostly just thankful when he can manage six hours instead of three. He lies in his bunk and the post-show energy ebbs out of his body until all Brendon can feel is the vibration of the road beneath him, the buzz of the highway as it takes them to the next town. He closes his eyes and sleeps.
Somewhere on the road outside of St. Louis, something wakes him. It's one of those blurry moments that Brendon knows is not just a random call to consciousness. The bunks are dark, especially with the curtains tightly closed, and he holds his breath and listens until he hears noise from the front of the bus.
Brendon checks his phone for the time, and it's almost five o'clock in the morning, too late for anyone to be up still and too early for anyone to be awake. He fumbles under the bunk for his bag and pulls on a pair of boxers before heading out to investigate.
Spencer's sitting at the small table they use for their laptops. He's hunched over his computer, hair rumpled and smashed flat on one side of his head. Brendon walks up behind him, sliding his fingers through it without thinking, and Spencer startles under his hand, tipping his head back so he can look up to see who it is.
"You scared the crap out of me," he says.
Brendon smiles sheepishly, shrugging a little. "You're up early," he says, dragging his fingers through Spencer's hair one more time before taking a seat next to him.
"I couldn't sleep," Spencer says.
Brendon nods, leaning his head against Spencer's shoulder. It's too early to really be conscious yet, and his eyes feel itchy and heavy. He thinks he could probably fall back asleep just like this, sitting propped up against Spencer's shoulder.
"Go back to bed," Spencer says gently, lifting his shoulder slowly until Brendon sits back up.
Brendon knows he should. They have a full day tomorrow, but something is holding him back. "You too," Brendon says. "It's too early to be alive right now."
"Nah," Spencer says. "I'm trying to figure out if I can get my money back on that cruise in February, or if I can transfer it to my parents or something."
Brendon had forgotten about the cruise. The next month would have been Spencer and Haley's three year anniversary. Spencer had known he was going to be on tour and he felt shitty about it, so he'd gone out and bought them a European cruise for after the holidays. Brendon doesn't know if he ever even told her about it.
"Oh," Brendon says. "Maybe you should keep it. Maybe... I don't know. Maybe you'll get back together."
Brendon doesn't know the details of Spencer and Haley's breakup. Spencer hasn't really volunteered to share, and Brendon hasn't asked. Spencer is probably one of the nicest people Brendon's ever known, but even then he's never been the type of person to share the more personal aspects of his life. Brendon figures if Spencer wants to talk about it he'll say something.
"I don't think so," Spencer says. "I'm not... I don't think she's in love with me anymore, and it sucked for a while there. Sometimes it still fucking sucks, but I'm doing okay."
Brendon has to take a moment to figure out what to say. He's not used to Spencer spilling his guts, and he wants to be a good friend. He wants to be a shoulder for Spencer if Spencer needs one, but he's also not very good at this kind of stuff.
"Are you really?" Brendon asks, because he can't not ask. Worrying about his friends is as much a part of Brendon as playing everything close to the chest is a part of Spencer.
"I'm good," Spencer says. "I just miss her sometimes. We were together for a long time."
Brendon doesn't know what to say. The longest relationship he's ever had was with Ryan, and Ryan never packed his shit and went back to his parent's house. Ryan has always been right there, standing just to Brendon's right under the bright stage lights, sleeping right across the small hallway on their bus. Brendon lost Ryan, but not really -- not in all the ways that Spencer's lost Haley.
Eventually, Brendon nods, reaching out to squeeze Spencer's hand gently. "Well," he says as carefully as he can manage, "I'll make us some coffee since we're both awake."
Spencer turns to look at him. Brendon has to will himself not to look away. Spencer has intimidating eyes sometimes. Brendon feels like an ant again, and he wonders what Spencer is looking for, what it is Spencer is trying to discover about him that he doesn't already know. Sometimes he wonders what it is Spencer sees.
Spencer finally turns back to his computer. "Thanks, Bren," he says softly, nudging Brendon companionably with his shoulder.
Brendon relaxes, smiling as he says, "Yeah, no problem."
Brendon likes to watch Dashboard's set when he can. There's something about watching Chris on piano that makes Brendon feel hopeful. Brendon can also admit that he can sometimes see himself up there the same way, the rest of the lights turned down low and a spotlight only for him.
Brendon doesn't want to leave the band. He'd stay in the band forever if he thought it was possible, but he's almost certain it isn't. Sometimes he imagines what it will be like when they break up, varying paths that all lead to the same end.
"I'm gonna sneak down and watch," Brendon says to no one in particular.
Jon and Ryan are deep in conversation. The table in front of them already filled with beer bottles and plastic red cups, but Jon looks up when Brendon speaks.
"I can go with you," he slurs, standing and laughing when his legs give out a little. He falls back onto the couch, sliding sideways into Ryan.
Brendon smiles and shakes his head. He says, "Maybe you should stay here and sober up?"
Ryan nods his agreement, but he's smiling at Jon fondly and patting his knee.
"I'll go with you," Spencer says. He puts down his copy of Modern Drummer and stands up, rolling his shoulders out.
"I don't need a babysitter," Brendon says. He actually doesn't mind the company, but sometimes he gets the distinct feeling that his band doesn't trust him to stay out of trouble. It's sort of annoying since Ryan is usually the one who gets lost when left unsupervised. At least Brendon can find his own fucking bus at the end of the night.
"Good thing too," Spencer says. "I don't think you could afford me."
Brendon flips him off but doesn't make any more complaints when Spencer throws his arm over Brendon's shoulder and walks him out of the dressing room.
Brendon doesn't feel like watching from the wings so he keeps walking, taking the stairs down the side of the stage, sticking close to the wall where it's darkest. Spencer's arm tightens around his shoulders, but Brendon ignores the warning, walking around until they have a good view of the stage and the back of the crowd.
He knows anyone could turn around and see them, but he's pretty certain they would only see two bodies leaning against the wall. It's dark. Even if someone does happen to recognize them, there's a metal barrier and two security guards between them and the crowd. Brendon doesn't think anyone will.
"Zack would kill us if he knew we were down here," Spencer whispers.
Brendon shrugs and Spencer's arm falls off his shoulders. "I'm a big boy," Brendon says.
Spencer says, "Nah, you're a little man."
Brendon can hear the smile in his voice. "You're such an asshole," Brendon says.
He doesn't know if Spencer has a comeback, but it doesn't matter because Dashboard is taking the stage. The lights go completely dark for a moment before the wall behind the stage becomes a blank canvas for a graffiti artist.
"This is never not cool, no matter how many times I see it," Spencer whispers.
Brendon nods, but he remains silent. He's spent half the tour trying to figure out what it is about Chris that makes it almost impossible to take your eyes off him when he's on stage. His stage presence always blows Brendon away.
"Do you think I could do that?" Brendon asks quietly.
"You do do that," Spencer says, turning to give Brendon a questioning look.
Brendon bounces up onto the balls of his feet and back down again, a nervous gesture that he still hasn't learned to control the way he has some of his other tells. "No," he says. "I mean, do you think I could do that by myself? Like, get up there alone and entertain people for an hour without boring them to death?"
Brendon remembers doing Time to Dance on HCT. He thinks he did okay for the most part. The crowd seemed to like it, but that had just been one song -- not an entire set.
Spencer doesn't say anything. Brendon feels knots of nervous tension coiling tighter and tighter in his stomach until he has to turn his head to see what Spencer is doing.
Spencer isn't looking at Chris. He's looking at Brendon, his head tipped to the side.
Brendon can't make out Spencer's expression, but he can see Spencer's eyes every time the lights change. Spencer is still looking at Brendon, staring until Brendon has to look away, glancing down at his toes instead of back at the stage.
"Is that what you want?" Spencer asks quietly. "To be on stage by yourself?"
Brendon shrugs and doesn't look up. "No. I mean...I don't know," Brendon says. "You won't always be there." Brendon can barely hear himself over the music. He doesn't know if Spencer's even heard him until Spencer puts his arm back around Brendon's shoulder.
Spencer says, "Yeah, I think you could do that. I think you already do."
"I have Ryan and Jon up there with me. I have you right behind me. It's different," Brendon says, leaning into Spencer's side.
Spencer's quiet for a long time. They both watch Chris sit down at the piano, the lights going out but for one spotlight. Chris sounds really good tonight; he's hitting each note perfectly, and Brendon feels it in his chest and bones. Everything feels tight, like Brendon's skin is shrinking around his muscles until he doesn't think he can fit inside his own skin.
Spencer squeezes Brendon's shoulders lightly. He leans down until his mouth is right next to Brendon's ear and says, "You can do that. It doesn't matter if we're there or not. When you're up there, I don't see anyone else. I don't think anyone else does either."
Brendon can't breathe. He tips his head back and Spencer is right there. Their mouths are maybe an inch apart. Brendon's brain keeps sending little impulses, a repeating message that tells him that if he boosted himself up on his tiptoes he could kiss Spencer. Brendon could push their mouths together and know what Spencer tastes like.
Brendon panics and stumbles back, wheeling his arms out wildly to keep himself from landing flat on his back. Spencer reaches out and fists his hand in Brendon's shirt, and Brendon makes a startled noise, loud enough that a few of the people closest to them look over curiously.
Spencer scans the crowd, glaring at people like he can keep them away through the sheer force of his will if need be. He pulls Brendon close again and gives him a stern look. "See?" he says. "People can't help looking at you wherever you go."
Brendon swallows shakily, resting his hands on Spencer's biceps until he feels steadier on his feet. "We should probably go," he says. "Before someone notices us."
"Too late," Spencer says, but he doesn't give Brendon time to ask questions. He wraps his hand around Brendon's wrist and leads them back up the stairs, on to side stage.
They spend a day in Florida with Cobra Starship. The weather is beautiful, warm and sunny and perfect for the beach. Jon and Spencer play Frisbee with Gabe, Nate and Victoria while Ryland and Alex try to figure out how to work the small hibachi grill they bought at a local grocery store.
Brendon feels like swimming. He goes out alone, wading into the water until his feet can't touch the bottom anymore. When he looks back toward shore, Brendon can see Ryan sitting in the sand, a book on his knee and his phone in his hands. He's been alternating between reading and texting all day.
As Brendon watches, the Frisbee lands by his knee, kicking sand up high into the air. Spencer comes over to retrieve it, flinging it back toward the others before he flops down next to Ryan in the sand. Spencer tips his head back, obviously laughing at something Ryan's said. If Brendon was closer, he'd be able to hear Spencer's laugh and see Ryan's answering smile.
Brendon watches them talk, their heads inclined toward each other, their body language intimate and familiar. He wonders what he and Ryan look like together. He wonders if he ever fit Ryan the way Spencer seems to, and the way Keltie does. Brendon takes a deep breath and goes underwater, letting the waves roll over his head until his lungs scream for oxygen. When he surfaces, Spencer is walking down the beach alone, away from Ryan, shoulders hunched against the wind. Brendon glances back at Ryan, and sees that Ryan is watching Spencer too. Ryan watches him walk for a while before he picks up his phone and goes back to his text messages.
Brendon looks back toward Spencer and follows his movement down the beach. Brendon imagines walking along with him, his arm tucked through one of Spencer's so that their elbows hook together. He wonders what that might look like, if Ryan would watch them the way Brendon just watched the two of them together. Brendon treads water for another minute, holding his breath deep inside is lungs, before he exhales and takes another shaky breath. Then he swims back toward shore.
Alex and Ryland finally figure out the grill, and the entire group sits down in the sand to eat hotdogs and corn on the cob and drink beer until it gets dark enough for Zack to suggest a bonfire. Gabe, Jon, and Ryan go back to the buses and pull out guitars, and everyone sits around talking about the most random crap in between playing songs.
Spencer gets up after awhile and dusts off his jeans, sliding his feet into a pair of flip-flops. Brendon watches him walk off toward the water until the darkness swallows him up. He gets up quietly and follows, trying his best not to be noticed. Everyone is happy and loud and a little drunk, and Brendon doesn't feel like taking the time to explain himself.
The moon is pretty much non-existent. Brendon can barely make out the whitecaps rolling in on waves toward shore, but if he turned around he would be able to make out the camp easily, the bonfire burning brightly against the backdrop of stars and sky.
"Spencer?" he calls.
There's a muffled sigh to Brendon's right, barely audible over the water hitting the shore. "Yeah," Spencer says. "I'm over here."
Brendon walks to his right. "Marco!" he says after taking a few steps.
Spencer laughs and says, "Polo!"
They keep it up until Brendon practically trips over Spencer sitting in the sand.
"Hi," Brendon says, sitting down next to him. "I can go back if you want to be alone."
Brendon is close enough that he can see Spencer shaking his head. It's cold now that the sun has gone down, and Brendon shivers as he presses closer to Spencer's side, their bodies touching from shoulder to hip. They sit like that for a while. Eventually Spencer lies back in the sand and pulls Brendon down next to him.
"You know I try to stay out of the thing between you and Ryan, right?" he asks.
Brendon turns to look at Spencer's profile and narrows his eyes even though it's too dark for Spencer to see his glare. "There's nothing to stay out of. There hasn't been anything between us in a long time," Brendon says.
"So if Ryan was planning on moving to L.A. next year it wouldn't bother you?" Spencer asks.
Brendon clenches his jaw and he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Ryan can do what he wants," he says.
"He usually does, but that doesn't mean you're going to be okay with it."
"L.A. is a big place. I'm sure there's enough room for the both of us," Brendon says.
"If you're still," Spencer says. "Are you still in love with him?"
It takes Brendon completely by surprise. It's not like Spencer to ask something like that, and even though Brendon's asked himself the same question thousands of times, he still doesn't know the answer.
"Are you still in love with Haley?" he counters. He's feeling a little bit mean, which he supposes is answer enough.
"No. I don't know?" Spencer says. "I miss her sometimes, but I don't know."
Brendon takes a deep breath and lets it out. "It's different for me, I guess, because I never got the chance to miss him. He's still...you know, here," Brendon says.
"Is that why you went with Shane?" Spencer asks.
Brendon turns his head so that his cheek is resting against Spencer's shoulder. "It's weird, you know. I thought getting away might help, but it didn't really feel like home until you came to stay."
Spencer's shoulder tenses against Brendon's cheek. "I wish you wouldn't say stuff like that," Spencer says.
"Why?" Brendon says, frustrated tears springing up in the corners of his eyes. "I've never been very good at being by myself. I miss you guys when we're not touring, even when I was living in Vegas...I don't know. The three of you are my best friends."
Spencer sighs and says, "You have Shane."
"And Shane's great," Brendon says. "But he's not you. He's not Jon. He's not Ryan."
"No one would ever mistake anyone else for Ryan," Spencer says, chuckling to himself. "He is one of a kind."
"Yeah," Brendon says. "He's...I do love him."
Spencer's entire body goes stiff beside him, his shoulder tensing again under Brendon's cheek. Brendon sits up and twists toward Spencer, taking his hand and squeezing lightly.
"I'll always love him," he continues. "He's my friend, and I -- well, I kind of hate him too."
"Well, that's a pretty natural reaction to Ryan," Spencer teases, relaxing against Brendon's side again.
Brendon laughs, sitting up and kicking off his sandals so he can dig his toes into the sand. "Being in love with one of your best friends is kind of stupid," Brendon says. "It's hard to figure out where one begins and the other ends."
"I know," Spencer says.
Brendon shakes his head. "You really don't," Brendon says. "I mean I know you and Haley are friends, but you didn't start that way. It's just....different."
Spencer gets up and slides his feet back into his shoes, kicking at the sand as he starts to walk away. "Trust me," he says over his shoulder. "I know."
Brendon thinks about calling him back or going after him, or maybe rejoining the rest of the group. He stays and watches the waves instead, sitting in the sand by himself until Jon finally finds him and drags him back to the bus.
Brendon goes back to Vegas for Christmas, but he doesn't have an apartment anymore. Staying with his parents isn't the worst possible situation, but Brendon hasn't been under their roof for more than a night or two since he was seventeen.
Brendon watches his clock impatiently until he thinks he can call Spencer without fearing for his life. The phone rings several times before Spencer answers with a grunt.
"You have to get me out of here," Brendon says into his phone without any kind of introduction.
Spencer doesn't say anything, but Brendon doesn't hold it against him. It's 10 o'clock in the morning which means Spencer was probably still asleep.
"Brendon?" Spencer says, his voice still gravelly from disuse.
"Do you know anyone else who's just spent the last four days holed up with his really large, really demanding, really loud family?"
"So what you're saying is you've been stuck in a house with about a dozen people who are exactly like you?" Spencer asks wryly.
"Fuck you. Come and get me," Brendon says.
"I actually have to meet Ryan in like an hour. He needs me for some shopping emergency he can't possibly handle alone."
Brendon bites his lip, weighing his options silently. He's pretty sure his mom is going to come through the door at any second to tell him all the exciting things they have planned for the day. Brendon hasn't seen Ryan in almost a month and misses him in what he's determined is strictly a friendly way.
"I'll go with you," he finally says. "I gotta get out of this house."
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Spencer says.
They meet Ryan near the strip at some Chinese food buffet Brendon's never been to before.
"Oh, hey," Ryan says, looking mildly surprised when he sees Brendon getting out of the passenger seat. He smiles, though, and hugs Brendon with one arm. "I didn't know you were coming."
Brendon shrugs as Spencer moves in to hug Ryan. "He needed to escape his parents for a little while," Spencer explains.
"Yeah? Driving you crazy already?" Ryan asks as they shuffle into the restaurant.
Brendon shrugs again, smiling sheepishly. He doesn't really like to complain about his family in front of Ryan because at least he has a family to complain about. It seems sort of shitty to have even one bad thought about his parents when Ryan's never been able to have very many good ones about either of his.
They eat too much General Tso's chicken, broccoli beef and egg rolls, and Spencer bitches about how the buffet's dessert portion always looks better than it tastes.
"Even their Rice Krispie Treats are suspect," Spencer says. "How the fuck do you screw those up?"
Brendon and Ryan laugh, and it feels good. It feels normal, and Brendon takes a moment to wish Jon were here too.
"We should make Jon come visit," Brendon says.
Ryan says, "Yeah. Maybe after Keltie and I get back from Hawaii?"
Brendon goes quiet, folding his hands in his lap and staring at his empty plate. He's not jealous exactly. He likes Keltie, and he thinks she and Ryan are a good fit, for the most part. Brendon just... He wishes the idea of Ryan moving on so easily wasn't so hard for him to deal with.
"Brendon will be back in L.A. by then," Spencer says.
Ryan looks over, beaming happily, and says, "Oh, I didn't tell you! I found a place. We don't close until February because the owners are apparently building a new house and can't move out until it's ready. Since I'm not in any kind of hurry, it sort of works out perfectly."
Brendon looks up at Spencer and can tell by the apologetic look on his face that while Ryan hadn't bothered to tell Brendon, Spencer had already known and hadn't said anything. Brendon doesn't know why that hurts so much, but it does.
"That's exciting," Brendon says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster.
Spencer pushes his plate away and throws a ten dollar bill on the table. "We should get going," he says. "What the fuck are we shopping for, anyway?"
"I need new swim trunks and sunscreen, and maybe a new pair of sunglasses since Jon stole my last pair and won't give them back," Ryan says.
"You dragged me out of bed to help you buy sunscreen?" Spencer asks.
Ryan smiles and shrugs. "You're my best friend," he says. "It's your duty."
"How about I kill you and take your hot girlfriend to Hawaii instead?" Spencer asks.
Ryan's eyes widen a little, and not for the first time Brendon envies Spencer's ability to threaten people's lives and make them believe it's actually a possibility.
Spencer comes to L.A. in January for a drum convention and doesn't leave. Brendon keeps meaning to ask him when he's going back to Vegas, but he's afraid that if he does Spencer will get the wrong idea and think Brendon wants him to go. Brendon doesn't want Spencer to go -- especially when Ryan gets back from Hawaii in the middle of January and promptly moves into Brendon's house, too.
"It's just so convenient," he says.
Brendon doesn't really see how it's convenient since Ryan's apartment in Vegas is still fully intact. He decided to keep it so he'll have somewhere to stay when he inevitably goes back to visit Spencer. It's actually worked out pretty well, too, because Keltie needs a place to stay while she does her cabaret show.
As convenient as Ryan might find their situation, it's basically driving Brendon insane. He spends as much time as he possibly can away from the apartment, avoiding Ryan's texts and phone calls. Two weeks in to Ryan's stay, Brendon makes Spencer go with him to get subs, and then proceeds to make up errands that keep them out of the house all day.
"I should really think about going home," Spencer says, while Brendon tries to navigate his way through traffic.
"Don't you dare," Brendon says. His phone goes off for the hundredth time, and he doesn't have to look at it to know Ryan is calling him again.
"He's just going to call me again next," Spencer says. "Are you going to let me answer it?"
Brendon says, "I'm not your boss. Do what you want."
Spencer sighs and lets his head fall against the passenger window. "You're driving me insane," he says.
"You can't leave me alone with him," Brendon pleads. "I just... God. The whole point of moving here was to get away from him, and now he's living down the hall!"
Spencer doesn't say anything. Neither of them speak for a few miles, and the car is quiet except for Brendon occasionally cursing at other drivers.
"You can say no if it's too weird or too last minute, and I promise not to get my feelings hurt," Spencer says out of nowhere.
Brendon glances over and then back to the road. "Okay?"
"Remember that cruise I bought?" Spencer asks.
Brendon nods, but doesn't take his eyes off the road again.
"Well, I'm going to go. It's already paid for, I can't get my money back, and my parents couldn't get the time off on such short notice. My mom told me I should just go by myself. You know, get away for awhile," Spencer says.
Brendon feels sick. Spencer is leaving, and Ryan's house won't be ready for at least another week. He wonders if his parents would mind him coming for a visit, or if Pete and Ashlee might let him crash on their couch for a while -- if it came to that.
"I was thinking you could come with me," Spencer says.
Brendon looks over and doesn't look back at the road. "What?" he asks.
Spencer says, "Umm, the road, Brendon. Please don't kill us."
Brendon slams on the brakes and pulls off into a McDonald's parking lot.
"Are you serious?" he asks.
Spencer shrugs. "You would probably have to buy your own plane ticket since I can't exactly transfer Haley's into your name, but I'm sure the travel agent I used can sort it out."
Brendon takes a deep breath and feels something like relief.
"It might be fun," Spencer says.
Brendon nods along frantically, a smile breaking across his face. "Yeah -- yes," he says. "I'll go with you."
"Really?" Spencer mirrors Brendon's smile with one of his own. "Because I really didn't want to go alone, and --"
"No, no," Brendon says. "Let's get the hell out of here. I hate L.A."
Spencer laughs, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Liar," he says. "You just need a change."
Brendon hums. He sings, "I was born by the river in a little tent. Oh, and just like the river I've been running ever since," and plays a little air piano above the steering wheel.
Spencer smiles and sings, "It's been a long time coming, but I know a change gonna come."
Brendon joins in again a second later: "Oh yes it will."
Brendon goes out to dinner with Shane and Regan and leaves Spencer to break the news to Ryan. It's a chickenshit move, but Spencer has always been the best at dealing with any and all of Ryan's moods, so Brendon doesn't let himself feel too bad about it.
When he gets home, no one is there. Brendon texts Spencer and falls asleep waiting for a reply. He doesn't know how long he sleeps, but there's a little light coming through the window when he wakes up. He rolls over and comes face to face with Spencer, eyes closed and curled up in the fetal position on top of the covers. Spencer's air mattress is still in the middle of Brendon's floor, but it's been so long since Spencer's slept on it that half the air has gone out of it. Brendon thinks Spencer sleeping with him every night should probably be weird, but it's not. It feels like some kind of extended sleepover.
Spencer mumbles in his sleep. It makes Brendon want to run his fingers through Spencer's hair. Normally he would do it; Brendon's always been weirdly tactile with people, and the whole band is pretty used to it by now. They don't even blink anymore when Brendon jumps on them or randomly smacks kisses on their cheeks. He could do that too -- just lean over and press his lips to Spencer's cheek. Spencer looks sweet, his lashes fanned out against his pale skin. A bomb probably wouldn't be able to wake Spencer right now, but Brendon doesn't lean in. He doesn't touch, even though his fingers itch with the desire to do it. There's a nervous feeling floating around in his stomach, something he can't quite figure out that keeps him from acting on his desire. Brendon crawls out of bed instead, throwing the edge of the covers over Spencer's body before he goes downstairs to make some coffee.
Ryan comes stumbling into the kitchen as the coffee is starting to brew. Brendon cocks an eyebrow at him. Ryan makes some guttural noise in answer. Brendon nods, pulling another coffee cup out of the cabinet over his head.
Ryan sits at the kitchen table and neither of them speaks until Brendon puts the full cup down in front of Ryan. Ryan wraps his long fingers around it and takes a giant gulp.
"Ow, fuck," he says. He sucks air in slowly, obviously trying to cool his tongue.
"Careful," Brendon replies, wondering how badly Ryan just scalded his mouth.
Ryan takes another sip in response, slower and smaller than the last one.
That sip must go better, because Ryan looks up from his mug and pierces Brendon with a discerning look. "So," he says. "You and Spencer?"
There's something in Ryan's tone that makes Brendon uncomfortable. It makes him think about the night he and Spencer watched Dashboard together and how, for just a moment, Brendon had thought about kissing Spencer.
"Me and Spencer what?" Brendon says. "We're going on vacation together. It's not... It's nothing."
"You're going on a romantic European cruise together," Ryan corrects. "A cruise he bought for his longtime girlfriend."
"We're going as friends," Brendon snaps. "And even if we weren't, it wouldn't really be any of your fucking business anymore, would it?"
Ryan's eyes get perfectly clear, the way they do when he's about to go in for the kill. "Spencer will always be my business," he says slowly and succinctly.
It does exactly what Ryan intended. It stings. It hurts. "Why do you care?" Brendon asks. "You and Spencer have gone off a million times together. Or is that what this is about? You're pissed because he didn't ask you?"
Ryan gets up and pours himself another cup of coffee. "I have plans," Ryan says. "That's why he didn't ask me."
"Oh, fuck you," Brendon says. "Stop being an asshole. I'm not trying to steal him from you."
It's shit like this that drove Brendon crazy when he and Ryan were sleeping together. Everything turned into a competition in the end, battles that became so petty and childish that half the time Brendon couldn't even remember what they were fighting about. It was the one thing that had made breaking it off a little bit easier.
Ryan turns around and leans against the counter, his features softening with what looks like regret. "Sorry," he says, running one of his hands through his hair. "I just thought this was going to be fun -- you, me and Spence running around L.A, going on adventures."
Brendon has a hard time being honest with people. It probably has something to do with the way his parents always used disappointment as a form of punishment. Spankings, groundings and taking away privileges never worked on Brendon half as well as a sad face from his mom or dad and a comment like, "We just expected so much more from you."
Brendon hates letting down the people he loves.
"Ryan," Brendon says softly.
"I know," Ryan says. "I know I can be..." Ryan sighs and shakes his head.
"Difficult?" Brendon says.
Ryan laughs, one of his really good ones, with his head tipped back and a genuine smile on his face. Brendon bites his lip and waits.
"You want some more coffee?" Ryan asks.
Brendon nods. Ryan refills Brendon's cup and sits down again. "If you didn't want me to stay here you should have said something," he says.
Brendon feels like throwing up. He doesn't want to have this conversation, but he doesn't see anyway out of it, either. "It's not that," he says.
Ryan gives him a dubious look. "Are we friends?" he asks.
"Of course we are," Brendon says.
"No," Ryan says. "I don't think we are. I don't think we have been for a long time, but I want us to be."
Brendon can't stop looking at his hands. He brings his thumb to his mouth and starts chewing the rough skin along the edge of his fingernail. His cuticles are already ripped in places from the same bad habit, and he has to consciously force both of his palms flat against the table.
"That's why I want to go," Brendon says. "I just... It's not as easy for me to change directions. I need some time."
"You've had time," Ryan says gently. "I'm not trying to -- I'm not being an asshole, but it's been like two years, Bren.
Brendon nods, but Ryan keeps going. He puts his hand over one of Brendon's. "Maybe I should have done things differently," he says. "Spencer says I'm the one that messed it all up, but I love you. I... You're one of my best friends, even without the band. You know that, right?"
"I know," Brendon says, because he does know. He's never doubted that Ryan loves him, but he had convinced himself that Ryan never really knew how much. It's taken Brendon way too long to realize that Ryan's always been exactly as involved with Brendon as he wanted to be. They're just friends. They'll always be friends, and Brendon thinks maybe this is the moment where he can finally start coming to terms with it.
Ryan says, "I think this trip will be good for the both of you. Spencer needs to get away too." He pauses. "You'll watch out for him, right?"
"Is there something I should know?" Brendon asks.
"He's --" Ryan stops. "Spencer's good at pretending."
Brendon looks over and searches Ryan's face. Ryan shrugs, giving nothing away because it's Spencer. Ryan will always protect Spencer first. Brendon knows there's more to the story, but he also knows it won't do any good to try to get it out of Ryan.
"I'll look out for him," Brendon says.
Ryan squeezes his hand and smiles.
~Next~
Brendon/Spencer // NC17 // 26,500 words
Brendon and Spencer go on a cruise to escape their problems. They end up finding more than rest and relaxation.
Written for bandombigbang 2009. Thanks to playfullips and cheapcrowd for encouragement and a final read through. So many thanks to ericaplease for the beta job. You made all the difference. Special thanks to both cheapcrowd and nasssty_slyth for their amazing mix and art. ♥
Ryan buys Keltie a promise ring at the end of HCT. It sits on the table in Ryan's kitchen, the garnet glinting where the sun hits it, and Brendon feels like it's mocking him. He has to use every ounce of his will power to stop himself from sticking his tongue out at it.
"So, what do you guys think?" Ryan asks.
"I think we should get high," Spencer answers, pulling a bag of weed and a small glass bong from under the couch.
The entire situation is so illogical that Brendon thinks getting high might be the only way to wrap their minds around the idea of Ryan promising anything to anyone. Ryan can't even make a commitment to his toothbrush twice a day, let alone give Keltie what she needs from a relationship.
Brendon's pretty sure Spencer knows this, too, but one of the things Brendon loves most about Spencer is that he's pretty content to let people fuck up their own lives in their own ways. Brendon knows Spencer will never say anything to Ryan. He supposes that's why their friendship has lasted as long as it has. Whenever one of them is doing something monumentally stupid, the other one looks away and pretends it isn't happening.
Brendon grabs the bong off the table as soon as Spencer's done loading the bowl. Spencer says, "Dude, give that back," right about the time that Brendon looks up over the rim and asks, "Are you going to give me a fucking lighter or what?"
Brendon really needs to get high right now.
"No one cares about my ring," Ryan says. He gives them all a stern and disappointed look.
Jon says, "Hey! What did I do?" Which is fair, because Jon didn't even roll his eyes once while Ryan explained the ring's symbolism and how it was going to take his relationship with Keltie to "another level".
"I'm getting us all high so that we can pretend to care about your ring," Spencer says. "And before you thank me for that, let me just say that there's no need. I am your best fucking friend. I got your back, man."
Ryan looks between the three of them and sighs. "What do you think?" he asks, turning his full attention on Brendon.
"I think I'm moving to L.A. when Shane goes. He asked me, and I don't know," Brendon says.
It's something he's been thinking about, mulling over since Shane decided to make the move over a month ago. He can also finally admit to himself that Ryan was the factor that had kept him from making a decision, just as Brendon knows it's Ryan and his goddamn ring that's finally pushing him to make one now. Brendon feels like he and Ryan have been playing a game of cause and effect for years now.
Spencer sits up straight on the couch, studying Brendon. At the same time, Ryan's eyes take on a faraway look, detached and maybe even a little cold, but he doesn't look away. Brendon feels like an ant under a magnifying glass, like Spencer is trying to figure out how he works at the same time that Ryan is trying to forget.
"Stop hogging the weed," Jon says, and Brendon blinks, startling a little so that some of the water sloshes up the side of the bong. He passes it over. When he looks back, neither Ryan nor Spencer is looking at him anymore.
The move to L.A. goes pretty smoothly. Brendon doesn't have much time to settle before it's time to tour again. He's still living out of boxes and that makes it a little difficult to pack for tour. He can't find half of his T-shirts which means he has about three things to wear that aren't his stage clothes.
"Where the fuck are my shirts?" Brendon yells.
Shane comes ambling in, leaning against the door frame and taking in the wreckage of Brendon's room. "Probably wherever you left them?" he counters.
"Thanks mom," Brendon says, opening yet another box that has some Tupperware and two throw pillows inside. "Who the fuck even packed this?" he asks.
Shane shrugs, pushing away from the door frame when the doorbell rings.
"Can you -- " Brendon starts, but Shane is already walking down the hallway to see who it is.
Brendon blows out a frustrated breath and pulls another box open. It's full of wires and cords to various electronics, some of which Brendon doesn't even think he owns anymore.
Brendon jumps when he hears Shane's voice at the door followed by a loud whoop and laughter. It's enough to peak his curiosity. He crawls across his floor, leans through the doorway and looks down the hall in time to see Spencer walking toward his room. He has a duffel slung over one shoulder and he's dragging a Target bag in his other hand.
"I brought an air mattress," Spencer says, dropping his bag on the floor by Brendon's hand.
"I can't find my shirts," Brendon says.
Spencer looks past Brendon and into his room. There's shit everywhere, covering so much of the floor that there's barely any visible carpet left.
"Hmm," Spencer says. "We should shovel out a space to set up my sweet bed and then we can go to the thrift store. They're bound to have something stupid enough that you'll wear it."
"Fuck you," Brendon says. "My shirts are awesome."
"And that's why they're too ashamed to make an appearance," Spencer says. "Come on. I brought beer, and Shane has weed, and Haley called me yesterday to say that she's not moving back to Vegas after all. I need to get fucked up."
Brendon sits back on his knees and looks up at Spencer, and that's just... Well that's just like Spencer to blow off a three year relationship while insulting Brendon's wardrobe in the same breath.
"Fuck," Brendon says. "What happened?"
"She's happy at home," Spencer says. "She's... she's just happy."
"You want to talk about it?" Brendon asks because he's a good friend, and if Spencer wants to pour his heart out Brendon will listen -- even if he really, really doesn't want to.
"Fuck no," Spencer says. "I'm okay. I'm happy, too."
Brendon doesn't think Spencer looks particularly happy, but Brendon also isn't going to push.
"What kind of beer did you bring?" Brendon asks.
"The good kind," Spencer answers.
Ryan and Jon show up in L.A. a couple of days later. They hang out by the pool in between rehearsals, messing around with some of the new stuff they've all been working on over the past few months.
"I was thinking that after Rock Band, we should be done touring for this album," Ryan says.
Brendon's been thinking it, too, but no matter how much time has passed -- no matter how long it's been their band -- there's always a small part of Brendon's brain that waits for Ryan to decide first. Brendon knows Jon and Spencer do the same thing in their own ways, little moments where they all wait for Ryan's thoughts before voicing their own.
"I think it's definitely time to work on new material, and it's going to be easier if we're not on the road," Ryan continues.
"Yeah," Jon says, and Brendon and Spencer nod along. If any of them have anything more to add, no one says it.
They all go to bed late, but Brendon can't sleep.
"You're breathing too loud," Spencer says from his spot on the floor.
Brendon lets out an even louder breath, followed by a nervous laugh. "That's just your bed losing air," he says.
There's rustling and then the bed dips. Spencer steals one of Brendon's pillows and lays down facing him. "You excited?" he asks.
"It's tour. Same shit, different day."
"Then go to sleep," Spencer says.
"You first," Brendon says.
Spencer sighs and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and taking deep, rhythmic breaths. "Wanna play some Mario Kart?" he asks.
Brendon sits up and turns on the lamp by his bed, blinking to let his eyes adjust to the light. "Sure," he says. "Best two out of three?"
Spencer nods and says, "And then we sleep."
Brendon's never been much of a sleeper. It's not insomnia, really. He sleeps enough, but usually in small stretches -- like if he's out too long he'll miss something.
It's easier on tour. There's a certain routine to traveling; unloading equipment, eating catered meals, meet and greets, interviews, fans, and a show almost every night. It's not normal, but the repetition is soothing somehow. There's something strangely freeing about having his entire day planned out for him. It's nice to turn his brain off and just go where Zack tells him to go.
On tour, Brendon can sleep. He's usually still the last one to go to bed, but he's mostly just thankful when he can manage six hours instead of three. He lies in his bunk and the post-show energy ebbs out of his body until all Brendon can feel is the vibration of the road beneath him, the buzz of the highway as it takes them to the next town. He closes his eyes and sleeps.
Somewhere on the road outside of St. Louis, something wakes him. It's one of those blurry moments that Brendon knows is not just a random call to consciousness. The bunks are dark, especially with the curtains tightly closed, and he holds his breath and listens until he hears noise from the front of the bus.
Brendon checks his phone for the time, and it's almost five o'clock in the morning, too late for anyone to be up still and too early for anyone to be awake. He fumbles under the bunk for his bag and pulls on a pair of boxers before heading out to investigate.
Spencer's sitting at the small table they use for their laptops. He's hunched over his computer, hair rumpled and smashed flat on one side of his head. Brendon walks up behind him, sliding his fingers through it without thinking, and Spencer startles under his hand, tipping his head back so he can look up to see who it is.
"You scared the crap out of me," he says.
Brendon smiles sheepishly, shrugging a little. "You're up early," he says, dragging his fingers through Spencer's hair one more time before taking a seat next to him.
"I couldn't sleep," Spencer says.
Brendon nods, leaning his head against Spencer's shoulder. It's too early to really be conscious yet, and his eyes feel itchy and heavy. He thinks he could probably fall back asleep just like this, sitting propped up against Spencer's shoulder.
"Go back to bed," Spencer says gently, lifting his shoulder slowly until Brendon sits back up.
Brendon knows he should. They have a full day tomorrow, but something is holding him back. "You too," Brendon says. "It's too early to be alive right now."
"Nah," Spencer says. "I'm trying to figure out if I can get my money back on that cruise in February, or if I can transfer it to my parents or something."
Brendon had forgotten about the cruise. The next month would have been Spencer and Haley's three year anniversary. Spencer had known he was going to be on tour and he felt shitty about it, so he'd gone out and bought them a European cruise for after the holidays. Brendon doesn't know if he ever even told her about it.
"Oh," Brendon says. "Maybe you should keep it. Maybe... I don't know. Maybe you'll get back together."
Brendon doesn't know the details of Spencer and Haley's breakup. Spencer hasn't really volunteered to share, and Brendon hasn't asked. Spencer is probably one of the nicest people Brendon's ever known, but even then he's never been the type of person to share the more personal aspects of his life. Brendon figures if Spencer wants to talk about it he'll say something.
"I don't think so," Spencer says. "I'm not... I don't think she's in love with me anymore, and it sucked for a while there. Sometimes it still fucking sucks, but I'm doing okay."
Brendon has to take a moment to figure out what to say. He's not used to Spencer spilling his guts, and he wants to be a good friend. He wants to be a shoulder for Spencer if Spencer needs one, but he's also not very good at this kind of stuff.
"Are you really?" Brendon asks, because he can't not ask. Worrying about his friends is as much a part of Brendon as playing everything close to the chest is a part of Spencer.
"I'm good," Spencer says. "I just miss her sometimes. We were together for a long time."
Brendon doesn't know what to say. The longest relationship he's ever had was with Ryan, and Ryan never packed his shit and went back to his parent's house. Ryan has always been right there, standing just to Brendon's right under the bright stage lights, sleeping right across the small hallway on their bus. Brendon lost Ryan, but not really -- not in all the ways that Spencer's lost Haley.
Eventually, Brendon nods, reaching out to squeeze Spencer's hand gently. "Well," he says as carefully as he can manage, "I'll make us some coffee since we're both awake."
Spencer turns to look at him. Brendon has to will himself not to look away. Spencer has intimidating eyes sometimes. Brendon feels like an ant again, and he wonders what Spencer is looking for, what it is Spencer is trying to discover about him that he doesn't already know. Sometimes he wonders what it is Spencer sees.
Spencer finally turns back to his computer. "Thanks, Bren," he says softly, nudging Brendon companionably with his shoulder.
Brendon relaxes, smiling as he says, "Yeah, no problem."
Brendon likes to watch Dashboard's set when he can. There's something about watching Chris on piano that makes Brendon feel hopeful. Brendon can also admit that he can sometimes see himself up there the same way, the rest of the lights turned down low and a spotlight only for him.
Brendon doesn't want to leave the band. He'd stay in the band forever if he thought it was possible, but he's almost certain it isn't. Sometimes he imagines what it will be like when they break up, varying paths that all lead to the same end.
"I'm gonna sneak down and watch," Brendon says to no one in particular.
Jon and Ryan are deep in conversation. The table in front of them already filled with beer bottles and plastic red cups, but Jon looks up when Brendon speaks.
"I can go with you," he slurs, standing and laughing when his legs give out a little. He falls back onto the couch, sliding sideways into Ryan.
Brendon smiles and shakes his head. He says, "Maybe you should stay here and sober up?"
Ryan nods his agreement, but he's smiling at Jon fondly and patting his knee.
"I'll go with you," Spencer says. He puts down his copy of Modern Drummer and stands up, rolling his shoulders out.
"I don't need a babysitter," Brendon says. He actually doesn't mind the company, but sometimes he gets the distinct feeling that his band doesn't trust him to stay out of trouble. It's sort of annoying since Ryan is usually the one who gets lost when left unsupervised. At least Brendon can find his own fucking bus at the end of the night.
"Good thing too," Spencer says. "I don't think you could afford me."
Brendon flips him off but doesn't make any more complaints when Spencer throws his arm over Brendon's shoulder and walks him out of the dressing room.
Brendon doesn't feel like watching from the wings so he keeps walking, taking the stairs down the side of the stage, sticking close to the wall where it's darkest. Spencer's arm tightens around his shoulders, but Brendon ignores the warning, walking around until they have a good view of the stage and the back of the crowd.
He knows anyone could turn around and see them, but he's pretty certain they would only see two bodies leaning against the wall. It's dark. Even if someone does happen to recognize them, there's a metal barrier and two security guards between them and the crowd. Brendon doesn't think anyone will.
"Zack would kill us if he knew we were down here," Spencer whispers.
Brendon shrugs and Spencer's arm falls off his shoulders. "I'm a big boy," Brendon says.
Spencer says, "Nah, you're a little man."
Brendon can hear the smile in his voice. "You're such an asshole," Brendon says.
He doesn't know if Spencer has a comeback, but it doesn't matter because Dashboard is taking the stage. The lights go completely dark for a moment before the wall behind the stage becomes a blank canvas for a graffiti artist.
"This is never not cool, no matter how many times I see it," Spencer whispers.
Brendon nods, but he remains silent. He's spent half the tour trying to figure out what it is about Chris that makes it almost impossible to take your eyes off him when he's on stage. His stage presence always blows Brendon away.
"Do you think I could do that?" Brendon asks quietly.
"You do do that," Spencer says, turning to give Brendon a questioning look.
Brendon bounces up onto the balls of his feet and back down again, a nervous gesture that he still hasn't learned to control the way he has some of his other tells. "No," he says. "I mean, do you think I could do that by myself? Like, get up there alone and entertain people for an hour without boring them to death?"
Brendon remembers doing Time to Dance on HCT. He thinks he did okay for the most part. The crowd seemed to like it, but that had just been one song -- not an entire set.
Spencer doesn't say anything. Brendon feels knots of nervous tension coiling tighter and tighter in his stomach until he has to turn his head to see what Spencer is doing.
Spencer isn't looking at Chris. He's looking at Brendon, his head tipped to the side.
Brendon can't make out Spencer's expression, but he can see Spencer's eyes every time the lights change. Spencer is still looking at Brendon, staring until Brendon has to look away, glancing down at his toes instead of back at the stage.
"Is that what you want?" Spencer asks quietly. "To be on stage by yourself?"
Brendon shrugs and doesn't look up. "No. I mean...I don't know," Brendon says. "You won't always be there." Brendon can barely hear himself over the music. He doesn't know if Spencer's even heard him until Spencer puts his arm back around Brendon's shoulder.
Spencer says, "Yeah, I think you could do that. I think you already do."
"I have Ryan and Jon up there with me. I have you right behind me. It's different," Brendon says, leaning into Spencer's side.
Spencer's quiet for a long time. They both watch Chris sit down at the piano, the lights going out but for one spotlight. Chris sounds really good tonight; he's hitting each note perfectly, and Brendon feels it in his chest and bones. Everything feels tight, like Brendon's skin is shrinking around his muscles until he doesn't think he can fit inside his own skin.
Spencer squeezes Brendon's shoulders lightly. He leans down until his mouth is right next to Brendon's ear and says, "You can do that. It doesn't matter if we're there or not. When you're up there, I don't see anyone else. I don't think anyone else does either."
Brendon can't breathe. He tips his head back and Spencer is right there. Their mouths are maybe an inch apart. Brendon's brain keeps sending little impulses, a repeating message that tells him that if he boosted himself up on his tiptoes he could kiss Spencer. Brendon could push their mouths together and know what Spencer tastes like.
Brendon panics and stumbles back, wheeling his arms out wildly to keep himself from landing flat on his back. Spencer reaches out and fists his hand in Brendon's shirt, and Brendon makes a startled noise, loud enough that a few of the people closest to them look over curiously.
Spencer scans the crowd, glaring at people like he can keep them away through the sheer force of his will if need be. He pulls Brendon close again and gives him a stern look. "See?" he says. "People can't help looking at you wherever you go."
Brendon swallows shakily, resting his hands on Spencer's biceps until he feels steadier on his feet. "We should probably go," he says. "Before someone notices us."
"Too late," Spencer says, but he doesn't give Brendon time to ask questions. He wraps his hand around Brendon's wrist and leads them back up the stairs, on to side stage.
They spend a day in Florida with Cobra Starship. The weather is beautiful, warm and sunny and perfect for the beach. Jon and Spencer play Frisbee with Gabe, Nate and Victoria while Ryland and Alex try to figure out how to work the small hibachi grill they bought at a local grocery store.
Brendon feels like swimming. He goes out alone, wading into the water until his feet can't touch the bottom anymore. When he looks back toward shore, Brendon can see Ryan sitting in the sand, a book on his knee and his phone in his hands. He's been alternating between reading and texting all day.
As Brendon watches, the Frisbee lands by his knee, kicking sand up high into the air. Spencer comes over to retrieve it, flinging it back toward the others before he flops down next to Ryan in the sand. Spencer tips his head back, obviously laughing at something Ryan's said. If Brendon was closer, he'd be able to hear Spencer's laugh and see Ryan's answering smile.
Brendon watches them talk, their heads inclined toward each other, their body language intimate and familiar. He wonders what he and Ryan look like together. He wonders if he ever fit Ryan the way Spencer seems to, and the way Keltie does. Brendon takes a deep breath and goes underwater, letting the waves roll over his head until his lungs scream for oxygen. When he surfaces, Spencer is walking down the beach alone, away from Ryan, shoulders hunched against the wind. Brendon glances back at Ryan, and sees that Ryan is watching Spencer too. Ryan watches him walk for a while before he picks up his phone and goes back to his text messages.
Brendon looks back toward Spencer and follows his movement down the beach. Brendon imagines walking along with him, his arm tucked through one of Spencer's so that their elbows hook together. He wonders what that might look like, if Ryan would watch them the way Brendon just watched the two of them together. Brendon treads water for another minute, holding his breath deep inside is lungs, before he exhales and takes another shaky breath. Then he swims back toward shore.
Alex and Ryland finally figure out the grill, and the entire group sits down in the sand to eat hotdogs and corn on the cob and drink beer until it gets dark enough for Zack to suggest a bonfire. Gabe, Jon, and Ryan go back to the buses and pull out guitars, and everyone sits around talking about the most random crap in between playing songs.
Spencer gets up after awhile and dusts off his jeans, sliding his feet into a pair of flip-flops. Brendon watches him walk off toward the water until the darkness swallows him up. He gets up quietly and follows, trying his best not to be noticed. Everyone is happy and loud and a little drunk, and Brendon doesn't feel like taking the time to explain himself.
The moon is pretty much non-existent. Brendon can barely make out the whitecaps rolling in on waves toward shore, but if he turned around he would be able to make out the camp easily, the bonfire burning brightly against the backdrop of stars and sky.
"Spencer?" he calls.
There's a muffled sigh to Brendon's right, barely audible over the water hitting the shore. "Yeah," Spencer says. "I'm over here."
Brendon walks to his right. "Marco!" he says after taking a few steps.
Spencer laughs and says, "Polo!"
They keep it up until Brendon practically trips over Spencer sitting in the sand.
"Hi," Brendon says, sitting down next to him. "I can go back if you want to be alone."
Brendon is close enough that he can see Spencer shaking his head. It's cold now that the sun has gone down, and Brendon shivers as he presses closer to Spencer's side, their bodies touching from shoulder to hip. They sit like that for a while. Eventually Spencer lies back in the sand and pulls Brendon down next to him.
"You know I try to stay out of the thing between you and Ryan, right?" he asks.
Brendon turns to look at Spencer's profile and narrows his eyes even though it's too dark for Spencer to see his glare. "There's nothing to stay out of. There hasn't been anything between us in a long time," Brendon says.
"So if Ryan was planning on moving to L.A. next year it wouldn't bother you?" Spencer asks.
Brendon clenches his jaw and he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Ryan can do what he wants," he says.
"He usually does, but that doesn't mean you're going to be okay with it."
"L.A. is a big place. I'm sure there's enough room for the both of us," Brendon says.
"If you're still," Spencer says. "Are you still in love with him?"
It takes Brendon completely by surprise. It's not like Spencer to ask something like that, and even though Brendon's asked himself the same question thousands of times, he still doesn't know the answer.
"Are you still in love with Haley?" he counters. He's feeling a little bit mean, which he supposes is answer enough.
"No. I don't know?" Spencer says. "I miss her sometimes, but I don't know."
Brendon takes a deep breath and lets it out. "It's different for me, I guess, because I never got the chance to miss him. He's still...you know, here," Brendon says.
"Is that why you went with Shane?" Spencer asks.
Brendon turns his head so that his cheek is resting against Spencer's shoulder. "It's weird, you know. I thought getting away might help, but it didn't really feel like home until you came to stay."
Spencer's shoulder tenses against Brendon's cheek. "I wish you wouldn't say stuff like that," Spencer says.
"Why?" Brendon says, frustrated tears springing up in the corners of his eyes. "I've never been very good at being by myself. I miss you guys when we're not touring, even when I was living in Vegas...I don't know. The three of you are my best friends."
Spencer sighs and says, "You have Shane."
"And Shane's great," Brendon says. "But he's not you. He's not Jon. He's not Ryan."
"No one would ever mistake anyone else for Ryan," Spencer says, chuckling to himself. "He is one of a kind."
"Yeah," Brendon says. "He's...I do love him."
Spencer's entire body goes stiff beside him, his shoulder tensing again under Brendon's cheek. Brendon sits up and twists toward Spencer, taking his hand and squeezing lightly.
"I'll always love him," he continues. "He's my friend, and I -- well, I kind of hate him too."
"Well, that's a pretty natural reaction to Ryan," Spencer teases, relaxing against Brendon's side again.
Brendon laughs, sitting up and kicking off his sandals so he can dig his toes into the sand. "Being in love with one of your best friends is kind of stupid," Brendon says. "It's hard to figure out where one begins and the other ends."
"I know," Spencer says.
Brendon shakes his head. "You really don't," Brendon says. "I mean I know you and Haley are friends, but you didn't start that way. It's just....different."
Spencer gets up and slides his feet back into his shoes, kicking at the sand as he starts to walk away. "Trust me," he says over his shoulder. "I know."
Brendon thinks about calling him back or going after him, or maybe rejoining the rest of the group. He stays and watches the waves instead, sitting in the sand by himself until Jon finally finds him and drags him back to the bus.
Brendon goes back to Vegas for Christmas, but he doesn't have an apartment anymore. Staying with his parents isn't the worst possible situation, but Brendon hasn't been under their roof for more than a night or two since he was seventeen.
Brendon watches his clock impatiently until he thinks he can call Spencer without fearing for his life. The phone rings several times before Spencer answers with a grunt.
"You have to get me out of here," Brendon says into his phone without any kind of introduction.
Spencer doesn't say anything, but Brendon doesn't hold it against him. It's 10 o'clock in the morning which means Spencer was probably still asleep.
"Brendon?" Spencer says, his voice still gravelly from disuse.
"Do you know anyone else who's just spent the last four days holed up with his really large, really demanding, really loud family?"
"So what you're saying is you've been stuck in a house with about a dozen people who are exactly like you?" Spencer asks wryly.
"Fuck you. Come and get me," Brendon says.
"I actually have to meet Ryan in like an hour. He needs me for some shopping emergency he can't possibly handle alone."
Brendon bites his lip, weighing his options silently. He's pretty sure his mom is going to come through the door at any second to tell him all the exciting things they have planned for the day. Brendon hasn't seen Ryan in almost a month and misses him in what he's determined is strictly a friendly way.
"I'll go with you," he finally says. "I gotta get out of this house."
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Spencer says.
They meet Ryan near the strip at some Chinese food buffet Brendon's never been to before.
"Oh, hey," Ryan says, looking mildly surprised when he sees Brendon getting out of the passenger seat. He smiles, though, and hugs Brendon with one arm. "I didn't know you were coming."
Brendon shrugs as Spencer moves in to hug Ryan. "He needed to escape his parents for a little while," Spencer explains.
"Yeah? Driving you crazy already?" Ryan asks as they shuffle into the restaurant.
Brendon shrugs again, smiling sheepishly. He doesn't really like to complain about his family in front of Ryan because at least he has a family to complain about. It seems sort of shitty to have even one bad thought about his parents when Ryan's never been able to have very many good ones about either of his.
They eat too much General Tso's chicken, broccoli beef and egg rolls, and Spencer bitches about how the buffet's dessert portion always looks better than it tastes.
"Even their Rice Krispie Treats are suspect," Spencer says. "How the fuck do you screw those up?"
Brendon and Ryan laugh, and it feels good. It feels normal, and Brendon takes a moment to wish Jon were here too.
"We should make Jon come visit," Brendon says.
Ryan says, "Yeah. Maybe after Keltie and I get back from Hawaii?"
Brendon goes quiet, folding his hands in his lap and staring at his empty plate. He's not jealous exactly. He likes Keltie, and he thinks she and Ryan are a good fit, for the most part. Brendon just... He wishes the idea of Ryan moving on so easily wasn't so hard for him to deal with.
"Brendon will be back in L.A. by then," Spencer says.
Ryan looks over, beaming happily, and says, "Oh, I didn't tell you! I found a place. We don't close until February because the owners are apparently building a new house and can't move out until it's ready. Since I'm not in any kind of hurry, it sort of works out perfectly."
Brendon looks up at Spencer and can tell by the apologetic look on his face that while Ryan hadn't bothered to tell Brendon, Spencer had already known and hadn't said anything. Brendon doesn't know why that hurts so much, but it does.
"That's exciting," Brendon says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster.
Spencer pushes his plate away and throws a ten dollar bill on the table. "We should get going," he says. "What the fuck are we shopping for, anyway?"
"I need new swim trunks and sunscreen, and maybe a new pair of sunglasses since Jon stole my last pair and won't give them back," Ryan says.
"You dragged me out of bed to help you buy sunscreen?" Spencer asks.
Ryan smiles and shrugs. "You're my best friend," he says. "It's your duty."
"How about I kill you and take your hot girlfriend to Hawaii instead?" Spencer asks.
Ryan's eyes widen a little, and not for the first time Brendon envies Spencer's ability to threaten people's lives and make them believe it's actually a possibility.
Spencer comes to L.A. in January for a drum convention and doesn't leave. Brendon keeps meaning to ask him when he's going back to Vegas, but he's afraid that if he does Spencer will get the wrong idea and think Brendon wants him to go. Brendon doesn't want Spencer to go -- especially when Ryan gets back from Hawaii in the middle of January and promptly moves into Brendon's house, too.
"It's just so convenient," he says.
Brendon doesn't really see how it's convenient since Ryan's apartment in Vegas is still fully intact. He decided to keep it so he'll have somewhere to stay when he inevitably goes back to visit Spencer. It's actually worked out pretty well, too, because Keltie needs a place to stay while she does her cabaret show.
As convenient as Ryan might find their situation, it's basically driving Brendon insane. He spends as much time as he possibly can away from the apartment, avoiding Ryan's texts and phone calls. Two weeks in to Ryan's stay, Brendon makes Spencer go with him to get subs, and then proceeds to make up errands that keep them out of the house all day.
"I should really think about going home," Spencer says, while Brendon tries to navigate his way through traffic.
"Don't you dare," Brendon says. His phone goes off for the hundredth time, and he doesn't have to look at it to know Ryan is calling him again.
"He's just going to call me again next," Spencer says. "Are you going to let me answer it?"
Brendon says, "I'm not your boss. Do what you want."
Spencer sighs and lets his head fall against the passenger window. "You're driving me insane," he says.
"You can't leave me alone with him," Brendon pleads. "I just... God. The whole point of moving here was to get away from him, and now he's living down the hall!"
Spencer doesn't say anything. Neither of them speak for a few miles, and the car is quiet except for Brendon occasionally cursing at other drivers.
"You can say no if it's too weird or too last minute, and I promise not to get my feelings hurt," Spencer says out of nowhere.
Brendon glances over and then back to the road. "Okay?"
"Remember that cruise I bought?" Spencer asks.
Brendon nods, but doesn't take his eyes off the road again.
"Well, I'm going to go. It's already paid for, I can't get my money back, and my parents couldn't get the time off on such short notice. My mom told me I should just go by myself. You know, get away for awhile," Spencer says.
Brendon feels sick. Spencer is leaving, and Ryan's house won't be ready for at least another week. He wonders if his parents would mind him coming for a visit, or if Pete and Ashlee might let him crash on their couch for a while -- if it came to that.
"I was thinking you could come with me," Spencer says.
Brendon looks over and doesn't look back at the road. "What?" he asks.
Spencer says, "Umm, the road, Brendon. Please don't kill us."
Brendon slams on the brakes and pulls off into a McDonald's parking lot.
"Are you serious?" he asks.
Spencer shrugs. "You would probably have to buy your own plane ticket since I can't exactly transfer Haley's into your name, but I'm sure the travel agent I used can sort it out."
Brendon takes a deep breath and feels something like relief.
"It might be fun," Spencer says.
Brendon nods along frantically, a smile breaking across his face. "Yeah -- yes," he says. "I'll go with you."
"Really?" Spencer mirrors Brendon's smile with one of his own. "Because I really didn't want to go alone, and --"
"No, no," Brendon says. "Let's get the hell out of here. I hate L.A."
Spencer laughs, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Liar," he says. "You just need a change."
Brendon hums. He sings, "I was born by the river in a little tent. Oh, and just like the river I've been running ever since," and plays a little air piano above the steering wheel.
Spencer smiles and sings, "It's been a long time coming, but I know a change gonna come."
Brendon joins in again a second later: "Oh yes it will."
Brendon goes out to dinner with Shane and Regan and leaves Spencer to break the news to Ryan. It's a chickenshit move, but Spencer has always been the best at dealing with any and all of Ryan's moods, so Brendon doesn't let himself feel too bad about it.
When he gets home, no one is there. Brendon texts Spencer and falls asleep waiting for a reply. He doesn't know how long he sleeps, but there's a little light coming through the window when he wakes up. He rolls over and comes face to face with Spencer, eyes closed and curled up in the fetal position on top of the covers. Spencer's air mattress is still in the middle of Brendon's floor, but it's been so long since Spencer's slept on it that half the air has gone out of it. Brendon thinks Spencer sleeping with him every night should probably be weird, but it's not. It feels like some kind of extended sleepover.
Spencer mumbles in his sleep. It makes Brendon want to run his fingers through Spencer's hair. Normally he would do it; Brendon's always been weirdly tactile with people, and the whole band is pretty used to it by now. They don't even blink anymore when Brendon jumps on them or randomly smacks kisses on their cheeks. He could do that too -- just lean over and press his lips to Spencer's cheek. Spencer looks sweet, his lashes fanned out against his pale skin. A bomb probably wouldn't be able to wake Spencer right now, but Brendon doesn't lean in. He doesn't touch, even though his fingers itch with the desire to do it. There's a nervous feeling floating around in his stomach, something he can't quite figure out that keeps him from acting on his desire. Brendon crawls out of bed instead, throwing the edge of the covers over Spencer's body before he goes downstairs to make some coffee.
Ryan comes stumbling into the kitchen as the coffee is starting to brew. Brendon cocks an eyebrow at him. Ryan makes some guttural noise in answer. Brendon nods, pulling another coffee cup out of the cabinet over his head.
Ryan sits at the kitchen table and neither of them speaks until Brendon puts the full cup down in front of Ryan. Ryan wraps his long fingers around it and takes a giant gulp.
"Ow, fuck," he says. He sucks air in slowly, obviously trying to cool his tongue.
"Careful," Brendon replies, wondering how badly Ryan just scalded his mouth.
Ryan takes another sip in response, slower and smaller than the last one.
That sip must go better, because Ryan looks up from his mug and pierces Brendon with a discerning look. "So," he says. "You and Spencer?"
There's something in Ryan's tone that makes Brendon uncomfortable. It makes him think about the night he and Spencer watched Dashboard together and how, for just a moment, Brendon had thought about kissing Spencer.
"Me and Spencer what?" Brendon says. "We're going on vacation together. It's not... It's nothing."
"You're going on a romantic European cruise together," Ryan corrects. "A cruise he bought for his longtime girlfriend."
"We're going as friends," Brendon snaps. "And even if we weren't, it wouldn't really be any of your fucking business anymore, would it?"
Ryan's eyes get perfectly clear, the way they do when he's about to go in for the kill. "Spencer will always be my business," he says slowly and succinctly.
It does exactly what Ryan intended. It stings. It hurts. "Why do you care?" Brendon asks. "You and Spencer have gone off a million times together. Or is that what this is about? You're pissed because he didn't ask you?"
Ryan gets up and pours himself another cup of coffee. "I have plans," Ryan says. "That's why he didn't ask me."
"Oh, fuck you," Brendon says. "Stop being an asshole. I'm not trying to steal him from you."
It's shit like this that drove Brendon crazy when he and Ryan were sleeping together. Everything turned into a competition in the end, battles that became so petty and childish that half the time Brendon couldn't even remember what they were fighting about. It was the one thing that had made breaking it off a little bit easier.
Ryan turns around and leans against the counter, his features softening with what looks like regret. "Sorry," he says, running one of his hands through his hair. "I just thought this was going to be fun -- you, me and Spence running around L.A, going on adventures."
Brendon has a hard time being honest with people. It probably has something to do with the way his parents always used disappointment as a form of punishment. Spankings, groundings and taking away privileges never worked on Brendon half as well as a sad face from his mom or dad and a comment like, "We just expected so much more from you."
Brendon hates letting down the people he loves.
"Ryan," Brendon says softly.
"I know," Ryan says. "I know I can be..." Ryan sighs and shakes his head.
"Difficult?" Brendon says.
Ryan laughs, one of his really good ones, with his head tipped back and a genuine smile on his face. Brendon bites his lip and waits.
"You want some more coffee?" Ryan asks.
Brendon nods. Ryan refills Brendon's cup and sits down again. "If you didn't want me to stay here you should have said something," he says.
Brendon feels like throwing up. He doesn't want to have this conversation, but he doesn't see anyway out of it, either. "It's not that," he says.
Ryan gives him a dubious look. "Are we friends?" he asks.
"Of course we are," Brendon says.
"No," Ryan says. "I don't think we are. I don't think we have been for a long time, but I want us to be."
Brendon can't stop looking at his hands. He brings his thumb to his mouth and starts chewing the rough skin along the edge of his fingernail. His cuticles are already ripped in places from the same bad habit, and he has to consciously force both of his palms flat against the table.
"That's why I want to go," Brendon says. "I just... It's not as easy for me to change directions. I need some time."
"You've had time," Ryan says gently. "I'm not trying to -- I'm not being an asshole, but it's been like two years, Bren.
Brendon nods, but Ryan keeps going. He puts his hand over one of Brendon's. "Maybe I should have done things differently," he says. "Spencer says I'm the one that messed it all up, but I love you. I... You're one of my best friends, even without the band. You know that, right?"
"I know," Brendon says, because he does know. He's never doubted that Ryan loves him, but he had convinced himself that Ryan never really knew how much. It's taken Brendon way too long to realize that Ryan's always been exactly as involved with Brendon as he wanted to be. They're just friends. They'll always be friends, and Brendon thinks maybe this is the moment where he can finally start coming to terms with it.
Ryan says, "I think this trip will be good for the both of you. Spencer needs to get away too." He pauses. "You'll watch out for him, right?"
"Is there something I should know?" Brendon asks.
"He's --" Ryan stops. "Spencer's good at pretending."
Brendon looks over and searches Ryan's face. Ryan shrugs, giving nothing away because it's Spencer. Ryan will always protect Spencer first. Brendon knows there's more to the story, but he also knows it won't do any good to try to get it out of Ryan.
"I'll look out for him," Brendon says.
Ryan squeezes his hand and smiles.
~Next~