Fic: Anyone Perfect Must Be Lying (Jon's Bookstore II) (3/3)

[foxxcub]

Jon doesn't tell Ryan about Bill's offer right away. Ryan's been preoccupied with the sudden radio silence from Brendon.

"I never said we should break up," Ryan says petulantly, sprawled out in Gerard's paisley armchair. "I just said I...needed a break from him."

"I might be wrong, but that sounds a little like I want to break up to me." Jon's sitting on the floor at Ryan's feet, price-logging a new batch of romance novels.

"No, it doesn't." He smacks the chair's arm, sending up a cloud of dust. "When a band goes on hiatus, does that mean it's broken up?"

"Depends." Jon sets his spreadsheet aside and says, hands in his lap, "Bill wants me to sell the store and run a photography studio with him."

Ryan sits up slowly, eyes narrowed. "You told him no, right?"

"Not exactly, but I inferred it. But I don't know, he...might have a point."

"Kat would kick your ass if she heard you saying any of this."

Jon flops onto his back and stares up at the old, dusty ceiling. There's still a yellow No. 2 pencil stuck up there from when Jon was twelve and bored out of his skull. "Maybe I just need to reevaluate what I'm doing here, you know? Beloved Brew might just be the first of a long string of problems."

Ryan kicks his knee. Hard. "Shut. Up. You sell the store and I'll kick your ass myself. And I'm not even mentioning what Gerard will do to you."

"You're selling the store?"

Jon looks up to find Spencer standing over him, eyes wide. He scrambles to his feet, wiping the dust off his hands on his jeans. "What are you doing here?"

"No, seriously, you're selling the store?" Spencer looks as if Jon's admitted to running a puppy mill.

"I'm not doing anything. Not yet."

"Never," Ryan says emphatically.

"It's just..." Jon waves his hand vaguely. "Things are kind of rough right now and Bill's offered me my own studio, and I think, possibly - "

Spencer shakes his head. "You don't mean that. You can't. After everything that's happened, you'd really sell out?"

"Spence, it's a bookstore, not a punk band." For some reason, Spencer's indignation over the possibility of Jon selling the store makes Jon weirdly angry. It's not like Spencer's even going to be around, anyway. "I'm trying to look at this from a business standpoint. You of all people should get that."

"I get that you're wanting to take an easy way out."

That's just totally unfair. "What I want is to not completely fuck myself in three years. Gerard's leaving, Ryan'll be gone in another year, and you've been gone for months now. It's just a matter of time before things go from bad to worse and I'm, like, declaring bankruptcy or something, all because I'm too attached to this damn place."

Something flickers over Spencer's face, and suddenly he's glaring at Jon, a mixture of hurt and anger in his eyes. "A year ago you were desperate to keep this place going in Kat's memory," he says softly, his words tight. "So forgive the shit out of me if I'm just a little shocked that all it takes to get you to go back on all that is a stupid coffee shop and your big brother's handout."

Jon glances over his shoulder, and Ryan's just staring back at him, nodding along with Spencer's every word.

"You can't begin to understand," Jon replies, feeling a rush of heat in his cheeks as he stalks off to his office.

"You're right, Jon, I have no idea what's it like to have memories in a place, or make really hard fucking decisions!" Spencer yells after him.

Jon slams the door to his office and blares Nine Inch Nails for the next hour.

*

Spencer doesn't come over that night. Or call. It might have a lot to do with Jon keeping his cell turned off.

The next morning, Jon finds he has one voicemail.

"When you've stopped having your own personal pity party, call me," Spencer says, voice low and rough, like he called after having been asleep for a while.

As he tries figure out what to say when he calls Spencer back, Brendon comes into the store, head bowed. He walks right up to Jon and wraps his arms around Jon's neck.

"Please don't sell this place," he mumbles into Jon's hair before walking back out the door.

Jon looks up and sees Ryan standing not far off, expression completely unreadable except for the conflict in his eyes.

"Just go over there and tell him you miss him, you jerk," Jon says, suddenly very tired.

Ryan chews the corner of his lip. "Of course I do. But with him, it's never..." He scrubs a hand over his face. "It's never just about being together. He believes in forever and soulmates and Emily Dickinson poems. He's permanent, and that's just really fucking scary to me sometimes."

Jon rolls permanent around in his head and thinks Ryan has every right to freak out.

"I was gonna ask Spence to move in with me," he says in a single, rushed breath.

Ryan doesn't even blink. "I figured as much. There's still time to talk him out of Belmont, y'know."

Jon shakes his head and smiles ruefully. "You're the one who said he's driven and I should get used to it. This is me getting used to it."

"By selling the store and not telling him how you really feel about him taking off for Tennessee?"

He folds his arms on the counter and tries not to look dejected. "I'm being a grown-up," Jon mumbles.

"You're being a moron."

"Great, we'll be morons together." Jon glares at him, which eventually makes the corner of Ryan's mouth quirk up.

"Touche'. Is that a challenge?"

"No. But are you really that scared of Brendon? I mean...it's Brendon, dude."

Ryan fidgets with cuff of his shirt for a long moment. "Fine," he whispers, and grabs his coat.

He pauses at the door and says over his shoulder, "Spencer acts like he's got this grand five-year plan, but honestly? He doesn't have a clue, especially since you came along. Nothing's set in stone."

Jon shuts his eyes and sighs. "Okay."

He doesn't move after Ryan's gone, just tucks his face into his arms and plays Ryan's words over and over again, overlapped with the image of the photography studio brochure and Bill's stern look of concern.

Jon suddenly digs his cell out of his pocket and texts Spencer.

come by the store 2nite

A minute later, he gets a response.

okay

*

Greta shows up again in the afternoon, this time with fresh scones.

"What's this for?" Jon asks, giving her a tentative smile.

"I saw you come in this morning looking really sad. Figured you needed some pick-me-up." She goes a little pink and adds, "Okay, and I also just really want us to be friends. Brendon told me that you're thinking of selling the store?"

Jon almost chokes on his first bite of scone.

She holds up her hand. "It's not what you think. It was really adorable, actually; he came in and basically begged us to stop 'being so awesome' and keep you in business."

He would throttle Brendon to death if he wasn't stupidly touched by all this. "I totally didn't put him up to that, I swear."

Greta laughs. "Trust me, I assumed as much. And I meant it when I said there's no reason we can't all co-exist, you know?"

"In a perfect world, that makes sense."

"It doesn't have to be perfect." She pats Jon's shoulder. "We're not the bad guys, Jon. And I don't want to see this store go away because of me and Bob."

And Jon suddenly feels like the biggest douchebag on the planet for calling them fascists.

"I...thank you," he says, and means it.

"We want to help, okay? Just let us know. And enjoy the scones." She gives him one last pat before she leaves.

*

Jon closes up for the tonight and sits at his desk, going over the day's tallies and ignoring the studio brochure still sitting next to his keyboard. He can still feel faint remnants of the headache he had earlier, when Gerard called his cell and said, "What the shit is this about you selling the store, Walker? Please tell me Ross is high." He then proceeded to tell Jon about how Kat's ghost would never let him live it down if he sells, because the dead do hold grudges.

He's rubbing at his too-dry eyes when a voice behind him says, "So Ryan stopped being stupid about Brendon?"

Jon smiles and doesn't regret giving Spencer his own key to the store. "Yeah, finally. Thank god, the angst was seriously getting annoying."

Spencer shrugs his coat off and tosses it over the arm of the couch. "It's a regular CW network up in here." He tugs a hand through his hair, and Jon realizes just how fucking tired Spencer looks.

He gets up and wraps his arms around Spencer's waist, tucking his face into Spencer's neck as he whispers, "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Spencer slips his arms around Jon's back, and they stand there like that for several minutes, just holding onto each other and not saying a word.

"You look like hell," Jon finally mumbles, kissing Spencer's jaw.

"And you don't look much better, so we're even." Spencer hugs him tighter. "So. I had an idea today."

"Just one?" He snuffles a laugh against Spencer's neck. "Geez, you must've had a rough day."

"Asshole, it's actually a good one." There's a pause, and Jon feels Spencer's chest expand slowly as he takes a deep breath. "I think you should hire me back."

Jon almost laughs, because he couldn't have just heard that. He's so tired he's delusional. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious." He pulls back and looks Jon in the eyes, and oh god, he is serious. "I want to be your marketing manager."

Jon drops his arms altogether and stares at him, completely speechless. The office is suddenly very stuffy. "You...what? What about Belmont?"

"Look, I've spent all day thinking this over, and the bottom line is, you can't close this place. I won't let you. There's too much here, and if keeping you from selling the store means me staying here instead of going to Tennessee, then...okay." He blushes and slides a hand down Jon's arm, circling his fingers around Jon's wrist. "This store brought me you, so I'm kind of invested in it. And if you ever tell Ryan I said that, I'll deny it until the day I die."

There's a ringing in Jon's ears. He drops down into his desk chair and says, "Holy shit, I can't ask you to do this, Spence. It's bad enough I've fantasized about every possible way to keep you from leaving, but now - "

"You're not asking me to do anything, I'm offering." Spencer kneels in front of him, hands splayed on Jon's knees. "I got into the MBA program at the university weeks ago, I just wanted to hear from Belmont before I turned them down. But they offered me a TA position, too, which means I'll have some income on the side. You can pay me whatever you want."

"What about the whole music business thing, your internship?"

"The internship's for a grade, and I thought music business was what I wanted, but..." He smiles, that perfect, brilliant, heart-stopping smile that Jon swears could cure cancer. "You know, stubborn fuck. I can't let my boyfriend give up his dream."

Jon is impervious to not smiling back. "This was never my dream, you know that," he whispers.

"Maybe a few years ago it wasn't, but you wouldn't have put Bill off if you still wanted your own studio." He slides his hands higher up Jon's legs as he leans in to brush their mouths together.

"You're awfully presumptuous, Spencer Smith," Jon says, shivering as he parts his lips, licks into Spencer's mouth.

He gasps, pushing tighter into the V of Jon's legs, until his thumbs are framing Jon's crotch. "Is that a yes, I'm hired?" he asks breathlessly.

"I don't want to be responsible for fucking up your five-year plan." He's trying to stay serious, because this is everything right now, the store, Spencer's career, them. He has to be sure Spencer's not just taking pity on him.

"My five-year plan consisted of making sure Ryan got through grad school without dropping out to write the Great American Novel. I've almost succeeded." Spencer nips Jon's bottom lip. "So?"

"I'll think on it and get back to you." But then Spencer presses his palm against the very obvious curve of Jon's erection, making Jon whimper. "Fine, fine, you're hired, but this is sexual harassment."

Spencer licks slowly into Jon's mouth and grins. "You can ask me to stop at any time."

Jon drops his head back and groans, consenting defeat. "As your boss, I demand you not stop. Ever."

"I can manage that." He sits back on his heels long enough to open Jon's fly.

*

Bill calls him the next day.

"Have you thought about my offer?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jon says. "And the answer's no. Someone came along and gave me a better deal."

*

The idea comes to him the following week at Ray's house, and it's so obvious, Jon feels stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

He asks Tom to have Empires play at Between the Lines.

Tom grins. "Your store's pretty small, though, right? Do you even have the space for a drum kit?"

As much as it hurts to say out loud, Jon replies, "We're taking out the coffee bar, so there's gonna be more space for a band." After much debate with Spencer (and later, Ryan), they all came to the conclusion that the coffee bar should go. But now Jon's starting to think that having room for bands to perform might not be such a bad idea.

"The thing is, Alfred's gone back to school. We don't have a bassist at the moment."

Jon drums his fingers against his Fender and says, "I...could maybe fill in?"

Tom raises an eyebrow. "Maybe. I'll call the guys and see what they want to do."

From across the room, Mikey yells, "Hey, Walker, Pete wants me to ask you why Patrick's not answering his texts any more." He's frowning at his phone.

"How the hell should I know?" Jon yells back, although what he really wants to say is, Because he's feeling left out, and I don't blame him.

Tom hands him a receipt with an address written on the back. "That's Max's address, where we usually rehearse. If they're up for a gig, I'll call you and you can stop by to try us on for size."

"You mean, you guys can see if I suck hard or just mildly hard."

Tom lights a cigarette, and Ray promptly tells him to take it out on the balcony. "That, too."

Jon grins like a dork as he follows him outside to bum a smoke.

*

Spencer calls Jon in the middle of the day. "Guess what, I'm a genius."

"Your modesty isn't becoming, but okay." Jon puts his feet up on the counter and beams at his phone. "Why the sudden declaration?"

"Because I just talked Beloved Brew into catering all your music shows. And we're also getting thirty percent of their profits for the added bonus of advertising for them. It's not what you were making on the coffee bar before, but it's more than you're making now."

Jon almost falls out of his chair. "Holy shit, I love you."

He winces at the long, stunned pause on the other end.

"Spence? I didn't mean to - "

"I love you, too. But you probably already knew that."

He's so, so glad Ryan's in class and not able to see the stupid, gooey smile on his face. Gerard would understand, though. "Yeah, I did. But it's awesome hearing you say it out loud."

He can hear his stupid, gooey smile in Spencer's voice, too. "Ditto." He hangs up, and Jon realizes he's still got a spare key sitting in his underwear drawer at home.

*

Jon rehearses with the guys of Empires and it's the single most nerve-wracking thing he's ever done. He tries his best to read through the music, but his hands shake, and he's distracted by Tom and Sean and everyone else, wondering what they think of him, if he really does suck (he does, he knows he does, but still...).

They play through three whole songs, and when they finish up, Tom glances at Sean in a silent question.

Sean plinks out a random chord with his left hand on the piano. "Sure, what the hell, I've never played a bookstore before," he says, winking at Jon.

Jon does a very undignified little jig in relief.

*

The show is scheduled for a Friday night, and while Jon doesn't advertise too much due to the lack of space, people start showing up three hours early, before the rest of the band has even shown up for soundcheck. The coffee bar has been cleared out (put into storage, since Jon couldn't handle getting rid of it completely) and all the stand-alone shelves have been moved to the back of the store. There's as much room as there will ever be.

Greta arrives not long after the band starts to set up, and Jon has never seen someone so excited to cater in his life. She's like a blond, curly-haired ball of glee, and it's infectious; within fifteen minutes of setting up her small table with her Beloved Brew carafe and plates of blueberry muffins and chocolate chunk cookies, she's almost sold out. Jon watches in bemused amazement as Greta simply whips out her Blackberry and calls Bob for a restock.

Meanwhile, Jon is a nervous wreck; he's never been the one performing on music nights, and he's starting to realize how much easier it is to be behind the scenes. Ryan keeps giving him thumbs-up signs (with Brendon at his side - not draped across him like before, but still close, just not too close), and Gerard and Frank break into spontaneous chants of "Go Walker!" from the back of the room. Spencer still hasn't arrived, though, and Jon's not sure he can focus until he knows he's there.

But right as Sean takes the mic mounted over his keyboard and says, "Hey, we're Empires, featuring one Jon Walker, who happens to own this lovely establishment," Spencer slips through the door and into the crowd, pushing his way to the back to stand with Ryan and Brendon. He looks a little frazzled as he beams at Jon and mouths, "Good luck."

Jon can totally focus now.

He fumbles the beat a few times, and he momentarily forgets the chorus on "Believe!," but he feels confidence in his playing; it feels just like it did back in high school, only better, more. The store gets stuffy and hot fast, and even with the door propped open to let in the forty-degree air, they're still drenched by the time the set's over. But the guys are grinning, and the crowd goes crazy, and Jon thinks he made the right choice in turning Bill down. He thinks Kat would heartily approve of his decision.

*

The crowd clears out slowly - the band sells several dozen CDs, and Tom laments the fact that they didn't bring any merch with them. Jon puts his bass away quickly and makes his way to the back of the room, straight for Spencer.

"You're all sweaty and shit," he moans when Jon hugs him, and Brendon replies, "Dude, I am totally next in line for sweaty Jon Walker hugs."

There's a chorus of congrats and awesome show, and Jon would say it's a perfect night - except for when a very distraught Pete grabs his arm and says, "Dude, I - I think Patrick broke up with me."

Jon had almost forgotten about Patrick's angst. Almost. "What, why?"

"I don't know, okay, I tried to get him to come out to the show, but then when I told him Mikey was coming, too, he, like, hung up on me, and it's only gotten worse in the last few weeks, and I fucking knew something was going on with him, I just wish he'd fucking tell me - "

"God, Pete, stop." Jon puts both hands on his shoulders and says, slowly, "You need to have a talk with Patrick. He thinks you're somehow dumping him for Mikey and he doesn't have the guts to say it to your face, okay? That's all it is."

Pete looks utterly stricken. "What? That's...what?!"

"He thinks he's nonexistent around you two."

"But that's insane, he's Patrick. I'm lucky if I can even concentrate on anything when he's around. He's it - I love Mikey to pieces, but he's not my Patrick, what the fuck."

"Then go tell him that. Right now."

Pete books it out of the store like the place is on fire.

"Seriously," Spencer says against Jon's ear, pressing up along his back and looping his arms around Jon's waist. "Goddamn CW up in here."

"Not my fault," Jon replies, twisting around in Spencer's arms enough to kiss his cheek.

*

On the way home, Jon's phone buzzes with a text from Patrick.

pete says you guys were awesome tonight. sry i wasn't there.

The text is immediately followed by:

pete also says thks for the verbal kick in the ass :)

*

It feels vaguely like the night of the first Christmas party, only this time Jon and Spencer stand in front of Jon's apartment door, close but not quite touching. Jon can feel Spencer waiting for him to make the next move.

"You waiting on something?" he laughs, poking Spencer in the stomach with his keys. His clothes are still soaked with sweat and his beard is slightly damp, but he feels amazing, if a little gross.

"Maybe," Spencer replies, knocking Jon's hand away. "Maybe I don't want to ravage you in the hallway where your little old lady neighbors can see us."

"I only have one little old lady neighbor, and she's awesome. She has a kitten."

Spencer grins hard enough to scrinch up his nose. "Why you don't have fifteen zillion cats of your own, I'll never know. It's kind of tragic."

And just like that, Jon remembers the spare key and the question he still hasn't asked Spencer. He pauses in the process of unlocking his door and bites his lip, taking a deep breath.

"Would you get a kitten?" he asks softly.

Spencer frowns curiously at him, then shrugs. "Yeah, I suppose. I don't think I would now, though, not when I live alone. I'd want someone else in the house to keep it company."

Jon swallows, presses his key hard into his palm. "What about, like...buying a cat with me?"

"What, share it? That's too much work, and it'd probably traumatize the damn thing," Spencer laughs.

"No, I mean." He takes a step closer to Spencer, close enough to where he can count every freckle along Spencer's nose. "Buy a cat with me...and live with me. Together."

Spencer goes completely still. "You're - you're serious?" he whispers, eyes wide and searching, like there's even a chance Jon's joking.

"I've been serious about this for almost two months now." He splays a hand over Spencer's chest and kisses his chin. "I figure if Frank and Gerard can do it, so can we."

Spencer's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. "Fuck," he finally breathes, and the next thing Jon knows, he's being shoved against his apartment door and kissed within an inch of his life.

"Is that a yes?" Jon manages to gasp when Spencer lets him up for air.

"That's a fuck-yes-and-I-love-you," Spencer replies, words mumbled against Jon's mouth as he fumbles the keys out of Jon's hand and unlocks the door. They stumble inside, and Spencer kicks the door shut behind them, stripping Jon out of his damp clothes.

"My lease, it's - it's not up until - "

"Until April, I know, I remember." Jon moans when Spencer licks over his chest, biting sharply at his neck. "It's okay, we can just wait - "

"I'll move some of my stuff over tomorrow. I'll move it all, I don't care." He pulls back enough to struggle with his dress shirt, not even bothering to undo the buttons. Eventually they end up at the doorway to Jon's bedroom.

Spencer spreads his hands over Jon's chest and pushes him toward the bed. "You were gonna ask me that night at the restaurant, weren't you?" he whispers in between deep kisses as he follows Jon down onto the bed, straddling his hips.

"I'd planned on it, yeah."

"Sorry 'bout that." Spencer rolls his hips, making Jon hiss loudly.

"It's okay, you're here now, and there should be less talk, I think." Jon wants his jeans off, he wants skin, but Spencer seems determined to get a rhythm started immediately. He grinds up against Jon, thumbs skimming over Jon's nipples, and shit, he's been running on too much adrenaline tonight to make this last long.

"S-slow down, can't - I'm gonna - "

"I know," Spencer whispers into his mouth, and it's all throaty and rough. "I want you to. Then we can spend the rest of the night fucking for as long as you want, because I'm calling in sick tomorrow."

Jon's got Spencer all night. And all tomorrow. And every day after that. He almost comes from that thought alone.

Eventually Spencer gets his slacks and Jon's jeans open enough to take both their cocks in hand, stroking them hard, fast, tight, exactly the right friction to make everything spiral out of control at lightning speed. Jon bucks into Spencer's hand, says his name, and comes in a hot rush, stars sparking behind his eyelids. He can tell by the way Spencer's grip jerks that he's not far behind, either.

He wants to fall asleep when it's over, but now he's completely gross and disgusting. "Shower," he mutters, kicking off his jeans and boxers and grabbing Spencer's hand to tug him into the bathroom. He melts against Spencer as soon as the hot water hits his back.

"Let's do this every night," he whispers through the quiet hum of the shower, nuzzling the soft spot just behind Spencer's ear. He slicks Spencer's hair back from his forehead and kisses over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose.

Spencer smiles against Jon's cheek, hand tucked possessively over the small of Jon's back. "Sounds good to me."

*

He may not be singing Mary Poppins songs or imagining little cartoon birds flying over his head, but Jon knows the look on his face in the morning mirrors Frank's. He may not be surrounded by Disney creatures, but there are definitely hearts in his eyes.

Frank takes one look at Jon on his way out the door to work and says, "Holy shit, you got Spencer to move in with you!"

Jon bursts out laughing.