Setting Aside a Spot for You (coda)
Title: Setting Aside a Spot for You (coda)
Author: Sara/ ivesia19
Rating: PG
Pairing: Spencer/Jon (with a side of Ryan/Brendon and Gerard/Frank)
POV: 3rd limited (Spencer)
Summary: The one where Spencer is secretly insecure and Jon doesn’t understand why.
Disclaimer: AU: The boys belong to themselves (and possibly each other)
Author Notes: Connected to You Can’t Judge a Book By Its Oddly Specific Call Number and The Aptly Named Stacks Sex Coda . This is slowly becoming a verse because I can’t seem to say no when people ask for more. And please keep in mind that this is my first real Joncer. Oh Lord, help us all.
Spencer looked around the dining room once he got into Gerard’s apartment and sighed. Now, looking back, Spencer realized that he should have caught on when Ryan told him that he didn’t need a ride to their bi-weekly dinners at Gerard’s. Ryan always needed a ride. Well, he used to.
“Hey, Brendon,” Spencer said, trying to keep the annoyed tone out of his voice. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Brendon, he really did. He was just a little pissed off that no one told him that Brendon was coming.
Brendon immediately launched himself out of his chair and enveloped Spencer in a tight hug, one so tight that Spencer wondered how Ryan hadn’t had his spine broken yet. Spencer tried to relax into the hug, but when one of Ryan’s hands detached Brendon, he was relieved.
“You’re late,” Ryan said, tilting his head just a little to the side, and when Spencer looked down, he could see that Ryan’s long fingers had intertwined with Brendon’s. “You’re never late.”
Spencer huffed. “Yeah, well, I was on the phone with Jon.” He didn’t explain any further - it really wasn’t any of their business.
“Oh,” Brendon said, smiling while swinging his and Ryan’s joined hands back and forth minutely. “It sucks that he’s not here. Is he sick or something? Were you comforting him via phone call? That’s pretty sweet of you, Spence.” He brought Ryan’s hand up to his mouth to leave a brief kiss along his knuckles. “See, I knew Spencer was a secret romantic, just like you.” Ryan blushed, which just made Brendon grin wider.
Huh? Spencer didn’t understand.
“We’re having a beef stew tonight,” Gerard yelled from the kitchen, “you can bring some - Frankie, stop it - you can bring some to Jon later to make him feel better.”
Spencer closed his eyes and brought two fingers up to pinch the skin between his eyes, trying to calm himself down so that he could assess the situation. Brendon was at their bi-weekly dinner. Frank, apparently, was there too, and everyone seemed to have assumed that Jon was sick or something since Spencer came alone. Spencer glanced over at Ryan, raising his one eyebrow meaningfully.
“I didn’t know we were inviting people tonight,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth to Ryan.
Ryan opened his mouth, no doubt to explain, but Brendon butted in. “It’s bring-your-boyfriend-to-dinner night,” he explained. “Didn’t Ryan or Gerard tell you?”
“No,” Spencer answered, glaring at Ryan, who wasn’t looking at him in favor of the wall past his shoulder. “They must have forgotten.” He was frustrated that Ryan forgot to relay a message to him again, but really, if he was honest with himself, he was glad that at least he didn’t need to think up an excuse.
Brendon’s smile dimmed a little, but then it perked up again. “Well, why don’t you just call Jon and have him come over? You know, I don’t think that Frank has even met him yet.”
Spencer shook his head. “He’s busy,” he told Brendon, the lie slipping easily off of his tongue. This time, it was Ryan who was sending the piercing look, but Spencer deflected it with practiced ease. “He and Frank will just have to meet another time.”
“Well, I don’t know how many of these dinners we’re all invited to,” Brendon began, frowning slightly. “Unless it transforms into a thing. Like, me and Frank and then Jon are always here! That could work.”
To Spencer’s surprise, when he looked over at Ryan, his best friend didn’t have an aggravated look on his face, or a carefully masked “Oh, I don’t think so”. If Spencer didn’t know any better (because he did, he had known Ryan for years - all of which were spent loathing commitment) he would say that Ryan didn’t have any objections to Brendon’s idea.
“Jon’s really busy a lot,” Spencer said. “And I’m sure that you and Frank would get bored spending so much time with all of us,” he slipped in rather expertly. “In fact, I bet that dinners with us are rather boring.”
Brendon’s face fell. It wasn’t gradual like Ryan’s when something went wrong, or magnified like Gerard’s got, but it was heartbreaking all the same, and instantly Spencer felt bad, but he didn’t take back his words. Ryan threw a harsh look at Spencer and pulled Brendon out of the Dining Room with a “Let’s see how the stew is coming” before leaving Spencer in an empty room, with no one at his side.
---
The dinner itself wasn’t too bad. The stew was actually pretty good, and Spencer could mostly ignore the fact that Ryan had his hand on Brendon’s thigh in a rather high place. It seemed like Ryan or Brendon had filled Gerard and Frank in about the Jon thing, because when they all finished eating, after some rather stilted conversation and a very obvious empty extra plate setting, Gerard didn’t package up the leftovers to take back to Jon.
He did, however, tell Spencer when he walked him to the door that Jon was invited to the next dinner.
Spencer didn’t really know why it bothered him so much, but for some reason, the thought of Jon joining them all for dinner was….well, it could be saying something that he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to say. Something that could mean something and then one day mean everything if it was taken away.
As he drove home, Spencer tried to soothe the anxious bubbling in his stomach. He always focused too much on things, on the deeper meanings of thing, on overanalyzing everything, so when he finally snapped out of his daze and realized that he was only two turns away from Jon’s apartment, it didn’t help the knot in his stomach.
He came to Jon’s place without even thinking about it. Spencer tightened his grip on the wheel.
He had planned on going home, maybe sending Jon a text message or something, and then going to sleep, dutifully ignoring Ryan when he called. Because Spencer knew that Ryan would call. Instead, Spencer found himself parking his car, unbuckling his seat belt, opening the door to his car, and making his way up to Jon’s apartment complex.
Spencer pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Jon’s number before he could really stop himself. He didn’t really know why, but obviously he had led himself here for a reason. Maybe he was a little more bothered by Ryan’s pointed glances at dinner than he had thought, maybe Gerard’s flippant comment about Jon being welcome at their dinners meant something more.
Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to make sure that he still had something there in the first place.
Whatever the case, Spencer’s heart was racing as he listened to the rings of Jon’s phone. It was ridiculous, he and Jon had been dating for almost two months, but for a second, Spencer wished that Jon wouldn’t pick up the phone. At least that way he would have an excuse to get back in his car and drive away without seeming stupid. Well, he figured it was pretty stupid anyways, mentally arguing with himself like he was.
The phone only rang twice before it was picked up and Jon’s voice, that voice that seemed to always be able to calm Spencer down, to get him to relax, murmured, “Spencer,” into the phone, and Spencer could almost see the lazy grin on Jon’s face.
Suddenly, Spencer felt like complete and utter shit.
“Hey,” he answered, running a hand through his hair in frustration over his own lameness. “I’m kind of standing outside your apartment right now.”
“Are you wearing only Saran Wrap?” Jon asked, that low chuckle evident in his voice.
Despite himself, Spencer smiled. “Yeah,” he replied. “And Kathy Bates better watch out because I make this look good.”
And this, this conversation, this easy give-and-take, this was good. It was soothing, comforting, and Spencer didn’t even know why he thought for a second that not wanting to invite his boyfriend to dinner with his friends meant something bad.
Jon laughed, a full out laugh that Spencer knew from experience shook through his body, and if Spencer was laying against him, the vibrations always transferred to him too, creating a soothing lull. “I’ll buzz you in,” Jon told Spencer. “And the door’s open, just come on in.”
Spencer said goodbye and walked into the building. Of course Jon left his door unlocked. It was just like Jon, so trusting, so open. Spencer, on the other hand had three different locks on his door. One was a padlock.
As Spencer walked up the stairs to get to Jon’s floor, he couldn’t help but think of dinner tonight. He couldn’t help but think of Ryan and Brendon’s body language, constantly touching, leaning into each other, or Gerard and Frank and how their eyes rarely left each other. He couldn’t help but think about how even though he had convinced himself that the dinner wasn’t any different than before it was.
It was different because Brendon was there and Frank was there, true, but really, it was different, because for the first time at one of those stupid dinners at Gerard’s, Spencer felt like he was missing out on something, and he knew that he was only missing out on it because of his stupid issues. He could have called Jon when he had gotten to Gerard’s. Jon probably would have come running right over. And that’s what stuck in Spencer’s mind. The probably.
But the thing was, just as those anxious thoughts started flooding Spencer’s head (because really, he couldn’t help but think that Jon could do so much better than him) he reached the top of the stairs only to see Jon leaning against the open door of his apartment, waiting.
“Hey,” Jon greeted, reaching out to grab Spencer’s hand and pull him into the apartment. “Did you have a good dinner at Gerard’s tonight? He didn’t make anything too crazy, I hope.”
Spencer let Jon lead him to the couch (where the Cubs game was on in the background) but once he sat down, he didn’t lean into Jon like Spencer had seen Brendon do countless times to Ryan, and he didn’t jump on his lap and attack him like Frank was prone to do with Gerard. Instead, Spencer just stared down at his hands.
“It was fine,” he responded, not mentioning anything about Bring-Your-Boyfriend to dinner nights or of skeptical looks or about stupid, lingering pangs of insecurity. “Nothing exotic this week, thankfully.”
Jon smiled and leaned a little against Spencer, who tried not to tense up, and laid an arm across him. He tried to relax and let himself mold back against Jon, but obviously, Spencer wasn’t as good as hiding things as he liked to think. “What’s the matter?” Jon asked.
“Nothing,” Spencer immediately replied. Off of Jon’s ‘I don’t believe you’ look, he added, “I’m just still worried about this big ordering mix up we had the other day. They keep sending me DVD versions of books I order for some reason.”
“Bet Ryan’s loving that,” Jon said, shaking his head in amusement.
“Which is why I have to deal with it,” Spencer agreed. “So,” he began, looking around the darkened apartment, game on in the background, white noise really. He meant to continue, he really did. He meant to say something about how Jon should start joining them for their bi-weekly dinners if he didn’t have any other big plans, but instead he found himself saying, “It’ll probably take me a while to sort this situation out so I won’t be able to make lunch tomorrow.”
Spencer wanted to kick himself for lying, especially when he saw that flash in Jon’s eyes, the one that was so subtle, before he gave a small smile and nodded. “It’s okay, I understand.” And then he turned his attention back to the game, and that one warm arm, that arm that Jon had just wrapped around Spencer’s shoulder, disappeared as Jon stretched out a little on the couch, leaving a space between them.
---
“I don’t understand why you’re being such a douche about it,” Ryan drawled as he scrolled down the order page brought up on his computer. He clicked and dragged the mouse to highlight the ISBN number. “You and Jon are made for each other, why are you so intent in fucking things up?”
Spencer didn’t respond, but he figured that a well-aimed glare was good enough.
“I’m just saying,” Ryan continued. “You were the one who helped me realize the whole Brendon thing, and now you’re acting like you’re a commitment-phobe. Don’t steal my past, Spence. It doesn’t look good on you.”
This time, a scowl wasn’t going to be enough. “Shut up,” Spencer muttered through the side of his mouth. “We are not talking about this here.”
“Why not?” Ryan questioned. “It’s a Wednesday morning, no one is here. No one needs help with anything, there is no big disaster going on in the library, basically, there’s nothing that you can use as an out for this.”
“Ryan,” Spencer warned. He didn’t want to go into this. He didn’t want to ‘talk about his feelings’ right now. Most of all, he didn’t want to acknowledge that tiny part of him that knew that he somehow lucked out with Jon and one day Jon would realize that and leave.
“No,” Ryan argued. “I’m doing this because I’m your best friend and I know you better than anyone.” Ryan was wearing that look that Spencer only saw when he was doing something completely moronic, like theorizing about a new type of call system.
Spencer crossed his arms across his chest. “There’s nothing to talk about, Ryan.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Really? So we don’t need to talk about why you don’t want to invite your boyfriend to dinner at Gerard’s?” He huffed. “Is it because you don’t think we like Jon? Because we do. God knows that Brendon would run off and marry him in a fucking Aladdin theme wedding.”
“No he wouldn’t,” Spencer answered, “the leash you keep on him wouldn’t reach all the way to Disney World.”
“See, something really is wrong because now you’re being a bitch to me,” Ryan pointed out.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Spencer asserted, but when he tore his eyes away from Ryan and looked up, his heart sank. Jon was walking towards him, that same easy smile on his face, and he was holding a paper bag in one of his hands.
“Hey,” Jon said, leaning over the desk to give Spencer a quick peck. “I thought that because you’re so busy here and can’t go out to lunch today I’d bring you some.” He dangled the paper bag in front of him, and Spencer could swear that he could feel the burn from Ryan’s incredulous stare. “It’s my specialty - peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich. And no, I won’t give away my special recipe, so don’t even bother asking.”
Spencer somehow managed a smile, guilt settling on top of him like a ton of books. “Thanks.”
Jon stood there, looking between Spencer and Ryan, who no doubt had another look going full force. “Well, I guess, just call me after you get off?” He sounded uncertain.
Spencer nodded, mechanically returning the brief kiss as Jon leaned over the desk again. “Yeah, sure,” he said, watching as Jon walked out, not looking back once.
Next to him, Ryan sighed. “You need to get your shit together. Jon doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. You’re fucking everything up.”
“I know,” Spencer agreed, and he did know, but that didn’t make anything easier.
---
Spencer only made it about forty minutes. He sat there, next to a very superior acting Ryan, thinking about Jon and that stupid, slightly smashed, perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich sitting under his desk when he suddenly got up, threw a lame excuse at Ryan (it didn’t really matter, Ryan knew where he was going, anyways) and headed towards the staff parking lot.
On the ride over, Spencer didn’t allow his brain to rationalize. He didn’t allow himself to create a mental list (with bullet points and all) about what he should say or how he should act, or anything like that. Instead, Spencer turned up the radio and sang along loudly, letting the music block out his overly analytical mind.
The office where Jon worked wasn’t too far from the library. It was located on the second floor of a rather ugly looking building that also housed a retailer agency (where Jon was always stealing pens from). It also was the type of hideous modern building that had large sheets of glass acting as walls, so as soon as Spencer got off the elevator, he could see Jon.
He was on the phone with someone, and he looked a little tired. A little frustrated. A little (Spencer hoped that it wasn’t true) fed up.
Still, Spencer crossed the tiny bit of carpet and opened the door to Jon’s office, bypassing the receptionist, even though he had by no means been at Jon’s work enough for him to be known as ‘the boyfriend’.
Spencer stood at Jon’s side, not saying anything, but waiting for Jon to look up as Spencer’s body blocked the light. Jon’s head quirked up, but his expression was unreadable. It was soft, not harsh or angry. It was almost as if it was defeated.
“Yes ma’am, someone will be there to help you with that tomorrow morning between 8 and 11,” Jon said, finishing up his phone call. “You have a good day.” He put the phone down on the receiver, and Spencer could see the breath that Jon took, deep, work through his boyfriend’s chest. Jon looked up, eyes guarded, something so unusual for Jon that Spencer almost stopped everything right there. “Hey.”
“So, um, yeah.” Spencer was stuttering over his words. That never happened to him. He always had his words ready, but here he was, tripping over a simple sentence to Jon. “I think we should, uh, talk.”
Jon sighed again and flicked his hair out of his eyes with a quick jerk of his head. “Yeah, I guess we should.” And the way he said it was so intimidating. It was as if Jon had already decided the outcome, an outcome that ended up with separate ways, avoidance of eye contact when they ran into each other at the grocery store, and an empty seat next to Spencer at Gerard’s dinners.
He got up, walking through the office towards the door to the hallway. “I’m taking my break,” he yelled over his shoulder.
The ride on the elevator was quiet, and Spencer’s mind was racing, trying to figure out some sort of plan. Still, despite that, when he and Jon walked into the crisp air outside, all of his structured thoughts left him.
“So, the thing is,” Spencer began, not really looking Jon in the eye, “I have these thoughts sometime. And it used to be a really big problem, because I was a little bit….yeah, and Ryan fucking Ross was my best friend.” He laughed harshly, suppressing the thoughts of all that, of all those years of self-doubt.
Jon tilted his head to the side. “Spence, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Spencer sighed. “The other night, Ryan and Gerard invited their boyfriends to dinner, and when they asked me about why you weren’t there, I just realized that it wasn’t because I didn’t want you to be there.” It was difficult, it really was, but Spencer looked up. Jon was staring at him, eyes no longer guarded, and it helped force Spencer to carry on. “It was because I was afraid that you wouldn’t want to be there. Or, I don’t know, that maybe I would get used to you being there, and then maybe one day, you would be gone.”
“God, Spence,” Jon said, shaking his head. He took a step forward, closing the space between them, and Spencer, without really thinking about it, took a step back, moving until the cool exterior of the building touched his back. “You need to stop doing this.”
“Doing what?” Spencer asked, eyes widening as Jon drew closer.
“You need to stop pushing me away. You need to realize that I’m not going to run and I’m not going to find someone better or whatever you think, because really Spencer, there’s no one out there better for me than you. You need to let me in.”
Jon’s words were so sincere, so perfect, and even though they definitely didn’t fix everything all at once, they helped.
Spencer let Jon weave their fingers together. He rested his forehead against Jon’s. He was still a little guarded, still a little tentative, but that was okay. He could do this. “Okay,” he said. “I can do that.”
----
When Spencer finally arrived at Gerard’s house for dinner he was out of breath.
“About damn time, Spencer,” Ryan chastised, his voice carrying easily from the Dining Room to the foyer.
“Yeah,” Brendon threw in. “I’m starving, but Gerard said that it would be rude if we started without you.”
Spencer hung up his coat on the rack, shaking the errant water droplets off himself. “Calm down, I’m here.”
He walked into the dining room and took a seat.
“Sorry you all had to wait for me.”
Next to him, Jon smiled. And when Spencer thought about it, it was all so right. Jon just fit, and sitting there, amongst his friends, with food and laughter and love, it was perfect. “You know I’ll always wait for you,” Jon said.
Gerard let out a tiny little ‘aw’ and Spencer couldn’t help his smile, leaning in to join his and Jon’s lips together, which made Gerard’s ‘aw’ grow louder.
Brendon threw a roll at them.
Other Stories!
Author: Sara/ ivesia19
Rating: PG
Pairing: Spencer/Jon (with a side of Ryan/Brendon and Gerard/Frank)
POV: 3rd limited (Spencer)
Summary: The one where Spencer is secretly insecure and Jon doesn’t understand why.
Disclaimer: AU: The boys belong to themselves (and possibly each other)
Author Notes: Connected to You Can’t Judge a Book By Its Oddly Specific Call Number and The Aptly Named Stacks Sex Coda . This is slowly becoming a verse because I can’t seem to say no when people ask for more. And please keep in mind that this is my first real Joncer. Oh Lord, help us all.
Spencer looked around the dining room once he got into Gerard’s apartment and sighed. Now, looking back, Spencer realized that he should have caught on when Ryan told him that he didn’t need a ride to their bi-weekly dinners at Gerard’s. Ryan always needed a ride. Well, he used to.
“Hey, Brendon,” Spencer said, trying to keep the annoyed tone out of his voice. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Brendon, he really did. He was just a little pissed off that no one told him that Brendon was coming.
Brendon immediately launched himself out of his chair and enveloped Spencer in a tight hug, one so tight that Spencer wondered how Ryan hadn’t had his spine broken yet. Spencer tried to relax into the hug, but when one of Ryan’s hands detached Brendon, he was relieved.
“You’re late,” Ryan said, tilting his head just a little to the side, and when Spencer looked down, he could see that Ryan’s long fingers had intertwined with Brendon’s. “You’re never late.”
Spencer huffed. “Yeah, well, I was on the phone with Jon.” He didn’t explain any further - it really wasn’t any of their business.
“Oh,” Brendon said, smiling while swinging his and Ryan’s joined hands back and forth minutely. “It sucks that he’s not here. Is he sick or something? Were you comforting him via phone call? That’s pretty sweet of you, Spence.” He brought Ryan’s hand up to his mouth to leave a brief kiss along his knuckles. “See, I knew Spencer was a secret romantic, just like you.” Ryan blushed, which just made Brendon grin wider.
Huh? Spencer didn’t understand.
“We’re having a beef stew tonight,” Gerard yelled from the kitchen, “you can bring some - Frankie, stop it - you can bring some to Jon later to make him feel better.”
Spencer closed his eyes and brought two fingers up to pinch the skin between his eyes, trying to calm himself down so that he could assess the situation. Brendon was at their bi-weekly dinner. Frank, apparently, was there too, and everyone seemed to have assumed that Jon was sick or something since Spencer came alone. Spencer glanced over at Ryan, raising his one eyebrow meaningfully.
“I didn’t know we were inviting people tonight,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth to Ryan.
Ryan opened his mouth, no doubt to explain, but Brendon butted in. “It’s bring-your-boyfriend-to-dinner night,” he explained. “Didn’t Ryan or Gerard tell you?”
“No,” Spencer answered, glaring at Ryan, who wasn’t looking at him in favor of the wall past his shoulder. “They must have forgotten.” He was frustrated that Ryan forgot to relay a message to him again, but really, if he was honest with himself, he was glad that at least he didn’t need to think up an excuse.
Brendon’s smile dimmed a little, but then it perked up again. “Well, why don’t you just call Jon and have him come over? You know, I don’t think that Frank has even met him yet.”
Spencer shook his head. “He’s busy,” he told Brendon, the lie slipping easily off of his tongue. This time, it was Ryan who was sending the piercing look, but Spencer deflected it with practiced ease. “He and Frank will just have to meet another time.”
“Well, I don’t know how many of these dinners we’re all invited to,” Brendon began, frowning slightly. “Unless it transforms into a thing. Like, me and Frank and then Jon are always here! That could work.”
To Spencer’s surprise, when he looked over at Ryan, his best friend didn’t have an aggravated look on his face, or a carefully masked “Oh, I don’t think so”. If Spencer didn’t know any better (because he did, he had known Ryan for years - all of which were spent loathing commitment) he would say that Ryan didn’t have any objections to Brendon’s idea.
“Jon’s really busy a lot,” Spencer said. “And I’m sure that you and Frank would get bored spending so much time with all of us,” he slipped in rather expertly. “In fact, I bet that dinners with us are rather boring.”
Brendon’s face fell. It wasn’t gradual like Ryan’s when something went wrong, or magnified like Gerard’s got, but it was heartbreaking all the same, and instantly Spencer felt bad, but he didn’t take back his words. Ryan threw a harsh look at Spencer and pulled Brendon out of the Dining Room with a “Let’s see how the stew is coming” before leaving Spencer in an empty room, with no one at his side.
---
The dinner itself wasn’t too bad. The stew was actually pretty good, and Spencer could mostly ignore the fact that Ryan had his hand on Brendon’s thigh in a rather high place. It seemed like Ryan or Brendon had filled Gerard and Frank in about the Jon thing, because when they all finished eating, after some rather stilted conversation and a very obvious empty extra plate setting, Gerard didn’t package up the leftovers to take back to Jon.
He did, however, tell Spencer when he walked him to the door that Jon was invited to the next dinner.
Spencer didn’t really know why it bothered him so much, but for some reason, the thought of Jon joining them all for dinner was….well, it could be saying something that he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to say. Something that could mean something and then one day mean everything if it was taken away.
As he drove home, Spencer tried to soothe the anxious bubbling in his stomach. He always focused too much on things, on the deeper meanings of thing, on overanalyzing everything, so when he finally snapped out of his daze and realized that he was only two turns away from Jon’s apartment, it didn’t help the knot in his stomach.
He came to Jon’s place without even thinking about it. Spencer tightened his grip on the wheel.
He had planned on going home, maybe sending Jon a text message or something, and then going to sleep, dutifully ignoring Ryan when he called. Because Spencer knew that Ryan would call. Instead, Spencer found himself parking his car, unbuckling his seat belt, opening the door to his car, and making his way up to Jon’s apartment complex.
Spencer pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Jon’s number before he could really stop himself. He didn’t really know why, but obviously he had led himself here for a reason. Maybe he was a little more bothered by Ryan’s pointed glances at dinner than he had thought, maybe Gerard’s flippant comment about Jon being welcome at their dinners meant something more.
Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to make sure that he still had something there in the first place.
Whatever the case, Spencer’s heart was racing as he listened to the rings of Jon’s phone. It was ridiculous, he and Jon had been dating for almost two months, but for a second, Spencer wished that Jon wouldn’t pick up the phone. At least that way he would have an excuse to get back in his car and drive away without seeming stupid. Well, he figured it was pretty stupid anyways, mentally arguing with himself like he was.
The phone only rang twice before it was picked up and Jon’s voice, that voice that seemed to always be able to calm Spencer down, to get him to relax, murmured, “Spencer,” into the phone, and Spencer could almost see the lazy grin on Jon’s face.
Suddenly, Spencer felt like complete and utter shit.
“Hey,” he answered, running a hand through his hair in frustration over his own lameness. “I’m kind of standing outside your apartment right now.”
“Are you wearing only Saran Wrap?” Jon asked, that low chuckle evident in his voice.
Despite himself, Spencer smiled. “Yeah,” he replied. “And Kathy Bates better watch out because I make this look good.”
And this, this conversation, this easy give-and-take, this was good. It was soothing, comforting, and Spencer didn’t even know why he thought for a second that not wanting to invite his boyfriend to dinner with his friends meant something bad.
Jon laughed, a full out laugh that Spencer knew from experience shook through his body, and if Spencer was laying against him, the vibrations always transferred to him too, creating a soothing lull. “I’ll buzz you in,” Jon told Spencer. “And the door’s open, just come on in.”
Spencer said goodbye and walked into the building. Of course Jon left his door unlocked. It was just like Jon, so trusting, so open. Spencer, on the other hand had three different locks on his door. One was a padlock.
As Spencer walked up the stairs to get to Jon’s floor, he couldn’t help but think of dinner tonight. He couldn’t help but think of Ryan and Brendon’s body language, constantly touching, leaning into each other, or Gerard and Frank and how their eyes rarely left each other. He couldn’t help but think about how even though he had convinced himself that the dinner wasn’t any different than before it was.
It was different because Brendon was there and Frank was there, true, but really, it was different, because for the first time at one of those stupid dinners at Gerard’s, Spencer felt like he was missing out on something, and he knew that he was only missing out on it because of his stupid issues. He could have called Jon when he had gotten to Gerard’s. Jon probably would have come running right over. And that’s what stuck in Spencer’s mind. The probably.
But the thing was, just as those anxious thoughts started flooding Spencer’s head (because really, he couldn’t help but think that Jon could do so much better than him) he reached the top of the stairs only to see Jon leaning against the open door of his apartment, waiting.
“Hey,” Jon greeted, reaching out to grab Spencer’s hand and pull him into the apartment. “Did you have a good dinner at Gerard’s tonight? He didn’t make anything too crazy, I hope.”
Spencer let Jon lead him to the couch (where the Cubs game was on in the background) but once he sat down, he didn’t lean into Jon like Spencer had seen Brendon do countless times to Ryan, and he didn’t jump on his lap and attack him like Frank was prone to do with Gerard. Instead, Spencer just stared down at his hands.
“It was fine,” he responded, not mentioning anything about Bring-Your-Boyfriend to dinner nights or of skeptical looks or about stupid, lingering pangs of insecurity. “Nothing exotic this week, thankfully.”
Jon smiled and leaned a little against Spencer, who tried not to tense up, and laid an arm across him. He tried to relax and let himself mold back against Jon, but obviously, Spencer wasn’t as good as hiding things as he liked to think. “What’s the matter?” Jon asked.
“Nothing,” Spencer immediately replied. Off of Jon’s ‘I don’t believe you’ look, he added, “I’m just still worried about this big ordering mix up we had the other day. They keep sending me DVD versions of books I order for some reason.”
“Bet Ryan’s loving that,” Jon said, shaking his head in amusement.
“Which is why I have to deal with it,” Spencer agreed. “So,” he began, looking around the darkened apartment, game on in the background, white noise really. He meant to continue, he really did. He meant to say something about how Jon should start joining them for their bi-weekly dinners if he didn’t have any other big plans, but instead he found himself saying, “It’ll probably take me a while to sort this situation out so I won’t be able to make lunch tomorrow.”
Spencer wanted to kick himself for lying, especially when he saw that flash in Jon’s eyes, the one that was so subtle, before he gave a small smile and nodded. “It’s okay, I understand.” And then he turned his attention back to the game, and that one warm arm, that arm that Jon had just wrapped around Spencer’s shoulder, disappeared as Jon stretched out a little on the couch, leaving a space between them.
---
“I don’t understand why you’re being such a douche about it,” Ryan drawled as he scrolled down the order page brought up on his computer. He clicked and dragged the mouse to highlight the ISBN number. “You and Jon are made for each other, why are you so intent in fucking things up?”
Spencer didn’t respond, but he figured that a well-aimed glare was good enough.
“I’m just saying,” Ryan continued. “You were the one who helped me realize the whole Brendon thing, and now you’re acting like you’re a commitment-phobe. Don’t steal my past, Spence. It doesn’t look good on you.”
This time, a scowl wasn’t going to be enough. “Shut up,” Spencer muttered through the side of his mouth. “We are not talking about this here.”
“Why not?” Ryan questioned. “It’s a Wednesday morning, no one is here. No one needs help with anything, there is no big disaster going on in the library, basically, there’s nothing that you can use as an out for this.”
“Ryan,” Spencer warned. He didn’t want to go into this. He didn’t want to ‘talk about his feelings’ right now. Most of all, he didn’t want to acknowledge that tiny part of him that knew that he somehow lucked out with Jon and one day Jon would realize that and leave.
“No,” Ryan argued. “I’m doing this because I’m your best friend and I know you better than anyone.” Ryan was wearing that look that Spencer only saw when he was doing something completely moronic, like theorizing about a new type of call system.
Spencer crossed his arms across his chest. “There’s nothing to talk about, Ryan.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Really? So we don’t need to talk about why you don’t want to invite your boyfriend to dinner at Gerard’s?” He huffed. “Is it because you don’t think we like Jon? Because we do. God knows that Brendon would run off and marry him in a fucking Aladdin theme wedding.”
“No he wouldn’t,” Spencer answered, “the leash you keep on him wouldn’t reach all the way to Disney World.”
“See, something really is wrong because now you’re being a bitch to me,” Ryan pointed out.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Spencer asserted, but when he tore his eyes away from Ryan and looked up, his heart sank. Jon was walking towards him, that same easy smile on his face, and he was holding a paper bag in one of his hands.
“Hey,” Jon said, leaning over the desk to give Spencer a quick peck. “I thought that because you’re so busy here and can’t go out to lunch today I’d bring you some.” He dangled the paper bag in front of him, and Spencer could swear that he could feel the burn from Ryan’s incredulous stare. “It’s my specialty - peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich. And no, I won’t give away my special recipe, so don’t even bother asking.”
Spencer somehow managed a smile, guilt settling on top of him like a ton of books. “Thanks.”
Jon stood there, looking between Spencer and Ryan, who no doubt had another look going full force. “Well, I guess, just call me after you get off?” He sounded uncertain.
Spencer nodded, mechanically returning the brief kiss as Jon leaned over the desk again. “Yeah, sure,” he said, watching as Jon walked out, not looking back once.
Next to him, Ryan sighed. “You need to get your shit together. Jon doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. You’re fucking everything up.”
“I know,” Spencer agreed, and he did know, but that didn’t make anything easier.
---
Spencer only made it about forty minutes. He sat there, next to a very superior acting Ryan, thinking about Jon and that stupid, slightly smashed, perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich sitting under his desk when he suddenly got up, threw a lame excuse at Ryan (it didn’t really matter, Ryan knew where he was going, anyways) and headed towards the staff parking lot.
On the ride over, Spencer didn’t allow his brain to rationalize. He didn’t allow himself to create a mental list (with bullet points and all) about what he should say or how he should act, or anything like that. Instead, Spencer turned up the radio and sang along loudly, letting the music block out his overly analytical mind.
The office where Jon worked wasn’t too far from the library. It was located on the second floor of a rather ugly looking building that also housed a retailer agency (where Jon was always stealing pens from). It also was the type of hideous modern building that had large sheets of glass acting as walls, so as soon as Spencer got off the elevator, he could see Jon.
He was on the phone with someone, and he looked a little tired. A little frustrated. A little (Spencer hoped that it wasn’t true) fed up.
Still, Spencer crossed the tiny bit of carpet and opened the door to Jon’s office, bypassing the receptionist, even though he had by no means been at Jon’s work enough for him to be known as ‘the boyfriend’.
Spencer stood at Jon’s side, not saying anything, but waiting for Jon to look up as Spencer’s body blocked the light. Jon’s head quirked up, but his expression was unreadable. It was soft, not harsh or angry. It was almost as if it was defeated.
“Yes ma’am, someone will be there to help you with that tomorrow morning between 8 and 11,” Jon said, finishing up his phone call. “You have a good day.” He put the phone down on the receiver, and Spencer could see the breath that Jon took, deep, work through his boyfriend’s chest. Jon looked up, eyes guarded, something so unusual for Jon that Spencer almost stopped everything right there. “Hey.”
“So, um, yeah.” Spencer was stuttering over his words. That never happened to him. He always had his words ready, but here he was, tripping over a simple sentence to Jon. “I think we should, uh, talk.”
Jon sighed again and flicked his hair out of his eyes with a quick jerk of his head. “Yeah, I guess we should.” And the way he said it was so intimidating. It was as if Jon had already decided the outcome, an outcome that ended up with separate ways, avoidance of eye contact when they ran into each other at the grocery store, and an empty seat next to Spencer at Gerard’s dinners.
He got up, walking through the office towards the door to the hallway. “I’m taking my break,” he yelled over his shoulder.
The ride on the elevator was quiet, and Spencer’s mind was racing, trying to figure out some sort of plan. Still, despite that, when he and Jon walked into the crisp air outside, all of his structured thoughts left him.
“So, the thing is,” Spencer began, not really looking Jon in the eye, “I have these thoughts sometime. And it used to be a really big problem, because I was a little bit….yeah, and Ryan fucking Ross was my best friend.” He laughed harshly, suppressing the thoughts of all that, of all those years of self-doubt.
Jon tilted his head to the side. “Spence, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Spencer sighed. “The other night, Ryan and Gerard invited their boyfriends to dinner, and when they asked me about why you weren’t there, I just realized that it wasn’t because I didn’t want you to be there.” It was difficult, it really was, but Spencer looked up. Jon was staring at him, eyes no longer guarded, and it helped force Spencer to carry on. “It was because I was afraid that you wouldn’t want to be there. Or, I don’t know, that maybe I would get used to you being there, and then maybe one day, you would be gone.”
“God, Spence,” Jon said, shaking his head. He took a step forward, closing the space between them, and Spencer, without really thinking about it, took a step back, moving until the cool exterior of the building touched his back. “You need to stop doing this.”
“Doing what?” Spencer asked, eyes widening as Jon drew closer.
“You need to stop pushing me away. You need to realize that I’m not going to run and I’m not going to find someone better or whatever you think, because really Spencer, there’s no one out there better for me than you. You need to let me in.”
Jon’s words were so sincere, so perfect, and even though they definitely didn’t fix everything all at once, they helped.
Spencer let Jon weave their fingers together. He rested his forehead against Jon’s. He was still a little guarded, still a little tentative, but that was okay. He could do this. “Okay,” he said. “I can do that.”
----
When Spencer finally arrived at Gerard’s house for dinner he was out of breath.
“About damn time, Spencer,” Ryan chastised, his voice carrying easily from the Dining Room to the foyer.
“Yeah,” Brendon threw in. “I’m starving, but Gerard said that it would be rude if we started without you.”
Spencer hung up his coat on the rack, shaking the errant water droplets off himself. “Calm down, I’m here.”
He walked into the dining room and took a seat.
“Sorry you all had to wait for me.”
Next to him, Jon smiled. And when Spencer thought about it, it was all so right. Jon just fit, and sitting there, amongst his friends, with food and laughter and love, it was perfect. “You know I’ll always wait for you,” Jon said.
Gerard let out a tiny little ‘aw’ and Spencer couldn’t help his smile, leaning in to join his and Jon’s lips together, which made Gerard’s ‘aw’ grow louder.
Brendon threw a roll at them.
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