You Only See What I Let You See (bandslash, Spencer/Jon, PG-13)
I was seriously almost tempted to not post this. I mean, wow, seriously, it's transgendered!Spencer, people. And considering I've only written two bandom fics so far, well I dunno if I had a good enough grasp of the characters to write this. But I did it anyway because I'm a stubborn little wolf like that. :P
Title: You Only See What I Let You See
Author: frk_werewolf
Fandom: Bandom (Panic[!] at the Disco)
Pairing: Spencer/Jon, Spencer/Gerard friendship
Rating: PG-13 (for language and sexual situations)
Word Count: 10,895
Warnings: FtM Transgender issues
Summary: "You're not ashamed of who you are," Ryan said forcibly. "If he can't handle the change you're going through or the fact that your physical body doesn't quite meet up with who you are on the inside then I'm not so sure I want him in this band."
Disclaimer: I do not own or even know the guys in this fic. As far as I know, Spencer wasn't born female.
Author's Note: Title from Cobra Starship's Kiss My Sass.
"Shit. Fuck," Spencer growled, twisting his body in an attempt to reach between his shoulder blades. He sighed and relaxed his arms, taking a moment to pull the tan binding tighter around his chest. He reached backward again, his reflection in the mirror resembling a contortionist. The clasps fumbled in his hands as he attempted to hook them in place. They slipped out of his grasp. "God damn it!"
"Spencer?" Ryan's soft voice echoed through the doorway.
Spencer's head dropped down and he held the elastic binding in front of himself, drawing in a deep breath, hoping to relax. "Come in."
Ryan slipped inside easily, shutting the door before there was a chance of anyone seeing Spencer. Ryan eyed him a moment, before walking over and gently taking the material from his hands. The bus' tiny bathroom hardly gave enough room for Ryan to maneuver behind him, but Ryan managed. Spencer watched their reflection as Ryan slowly tightened the binding, causing Spencer's chest to flatten, to hide something he didn't want to believe was there. Ryan glanced up as he hooked the clasps into place.
"What's wrong?" Ryan finally asked.
"I just...wanted to make sure he didn't notice," Spencer admitted, scowling at his own words.
"Jon's seen you before," Ryan pointed out, resting his hand between Spencer's shoulder blades and meeting his eyes through the mirror.
"Not--" Spencer huffed. "He's going to be staying on our bus with us. Close up, Ryan! What if he suspects or--?"
"You're not ashamed of who you are," Ryan said forcibly. "If he can't handle the change you're going through or the fact that your physical body doesn't quite meet up with who you are on the inside then I'm not so sure I want him in this band."
"I know. I'm being paranoid." Spencer's jaw clenched and he reached for his shirt, nearly rolling his eyes as Ryan fussed with it, tugging it into place.
"You didn't tell me how the doctor's appointment went," Ryan commented, moving toward the door.
Slowly, Spencer smiled. "They, uh, approved of it. The testosterone injections, I mean. It's going to be hard keep up with the doses what with touring, but it's definitely doable. It's worth the effort."
"Of course it is," Ryan replied, smiling back. He pulled open the door to reveal Brendon standing there, fist raised to knock.
"Oh hey, guys!" Brendon beamed. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Was there a meeting in the urinal without my knowledge?"
"Where's Jon?" Ryan asked, pushing past Brendon.
Brendon draped himself over Spencer when he emerged, still grinning. "Being warned about our fiendish ways by William. You'd think William thought we were evil masterminds or something." Brendon paused, glancing over at Spencer. "Well, maybe he's right about one of us. But I'm perfectly innocent--"
Ryan snorted.
"I am!" Brendon protested, before innocently groping Spencer's ass. Spencer swiped at him, but Brendon has learned how to dodge Spencer's hits within a week of meeting him. "What? It was a love pat!"
"Jon's going to think we're insane," Spencer commented.
"Oh, good, then I'll feel right at home," Jon said from the bus doorway, smiling brightly.
*
Spencer doesn't exactly remember his very first conversation with Ryan; he was way too young of course. But he does remember, distinctly, telling Ryan at the so-called tender age of eight that he was going to be a boy when he grew up.
"But...you're a girl," Ryan said, eyeing Spencer's pink shirt with a vague sense of confusion.
"Maybe now I am, but God got it wrong," Spencer insisted. He was sure of this. It was the only explanation; even though as an eight year old Spencer didn't really have a good grasp of what God was, exactly, except the people on television seemed to think God controlled things. And some even claimed that if you sent them money, God would work magic. Spencer had thought about saving up his allowance and sending it in, asking for a boy's body, but his mother's habit of scoffing and turning the channel gave him the impression that these people didn't know what they were talking about.
"But...if you're going to be a boy, then you have to have a boy's name," Ryan said, logically.
"I do," Spencer replied, rolling his eyes.
"Well, what is it then? I've never heard it!" Ryan didn't like being the last person to know things. Which is why Spencer had told him about really being a boy before he told his mother.
"My real name's Spencer," he replied.
Ryan eyed him again, biting his lip. Then, he shrugged. "Okay. I can call you Spencer."
After that, Ryan had taken it in complete stride that Spencer was in fact a boy. Ryan had the habit of believing people were what they wanted to be, and not what others forced them to be. So, if Spencer felt like a boy, then he was a boy. It had taken until middle school before Spencer had realized how lucky he was to have a friend that open minded.
*
The thing was, most people expected Spencer's transgender identity to be a big deal. When Pete had found out he had freaked, wondering how they were going to keep this quiet because he knew the tabloids would just hound Spencer. But Spencer had been acting out the part of a boy in every aspect but physical since he had been allowed to take over his own clothing choices and had gained a small amount of independence from his mother's side. He knew how to play the game, how to keep people from suspecting.
In fact, Spencer prided himself in being so good at being a boy that he was even able to wear girl's clothing without anyone questioning.
The day Spencer received his first testosterone shot he had expected to feel different, like he would suddenly feel manlier or something. But he felt the same, only justified. Finally, after all of these years of knowing he was in a mold that didn't fit he was getting it fixed, he was doing something about it.
"What are you so happy about?" Jon asked, smiling.
Spencer let his hair fall into his eyes and picked at the knee of his jeans. He shrugged. "Nothing."
"That's not a nothing face. That's a dream come true happy face," Jon replied, bumping Spencer's shoulder with his own.
"Maybe...maybe my dream did come true," Spencer said slowly, looking up to meet Jon's eyes. Jon looked at him a moment, almost staring, before his gaze pulled away.
"That's good," Jon offered. "Though I don't see how anyone could be excited about going to the doctor. You're a weird one, Spencer Smith."
"Says the man that got excited over beaded flip-flops," Spencer said derisively.
"I'll turn you to the dark side someday, just you wait."
"The dark side of flip-flops."
"Exactly," Jon grinned.
"Right," Spencer stood, stretching, ignoring Jon's eyes gravitating toward his hips. He fought down a blush. No matter how easily he was able to bind his breasts down, hide them from even his own view, his hips presented a problem. Thankfully, most people seemed to find a boy with slight curves attractive instead of a freak, as compared to the hooligans he went to high school with.
He turned away from Jon and ventured to the back of the bus, where he spotted Brendon watching a movie. Thankful Ryan wasn't around to see, Spencer crawled onto the couch next to Brendon and curled up against his side. He always felt a moment of weakness when this close to Brendon, like by a simple touch Brendon had the ability to bare his soul to the world.
"Tired?" Brendon asked, his head dropping onto Spencer's shoulder.
Spencer hummed in reply and let Brendon rub circles into his side.
*
"He's going to freak out!" Spencer hissed, twisting the lid off his soda with a violent jerk. He could hear Brendon laughing in the other room with Brent.
"If he's going to be in this band--" Ryan began.
"Then we need to make sure he's not a bastard who will judge me," Spencer recited. "Ryan, look at how Brent looks at me. Brendon's led an even more cloistered life than him. Last time I checked Mormons didn't approve of gender changes."
"But it's important that--" Ryan started.
"Ryan!" Spencer snapped, voice low and even. "I love you, but I'm getting a little sick and tired of being your cause for social justice."
Ryan blinked at him, mouth opening before snapping shut. After a moment's pause he nodded, turning back to the refrigerator to grab another drink. He was obviously hiding behind the door. Spencer sighed, reached out and ruffled Ryan's hair. He could see Ryan's back visibly relax.
"Maybe...maybe I'll tell him," Spencer said softly.
He didn't tell Brendon right away. In fact, he waited three months. In the mean time, Brendon acted oblivious. Even to this day Spencer doesn't know if Brendon ever suspected. Probably not, because upon being told that the drummer of his new band was actually a female who was a male on the inside? Brendon had blinked rapidly, looked him up and down, and asked to be left alone for a few minutes.
"I told you he was going to react badly," Spencer told Ryan, gripping his drumsticks and ignoring the looks Brent was shooting them.
Spencer didn't let Ryan reply. Instead, he stormed over to his drum kit and began playing, releasing a tide of steady beats and harsh rhythms, pretending he was the only person in the room. It was easier behind his drums to pretend this all wasn't an actual problem. That he wasn't some kind of freak who couldn't get over the fact that, yes, he had breasts and a fucking vagina. Here, arms flying and sweat forming between his shoulder blades, he was exactly what he wanted to be: a drummer, a male drummer.
A hand landed on his shoulder, yanking him from his thoughts. He jerked in shock, twisting on his stool to see Brendon. He had a look of uncertainty on his face, but he was smiling, a gentle curve of his lips. Slowly, Spencer returned the smile.
"You are who you are, Spencer Smith," Brendon said softly. "And fuck if I'm going to let a lack of boy parts keep me from being your friend."
Brent shook his head from his corner of the room, while Spencer pulled Brendon into a small hug, which grew tighter with Brendon's enthusiasm. Spencer glanced over at Brent and sighed. It wasn't that Brent didn't like Spencer; they would have been best friends if Ryan weren’t already in that role. Its just Brent was uncomfortable when the topic of Spencer's actual gender came up. He was obviously happier being ignorant.
*
Sometimes Spencer wanted to go out onstage and scream into the microphone, to tell the whole world exactly what he was and exactly what he was doing to his body. The urge became stronger the more testosterone shots he received. There was a tension in his body now, and knowledge that he was fundamentally changing in a way that he had always assumed could only occur mentally.
He thought of all the teenagers feeling stuck in a body not their own and wondered if by going public he could help them, keep them from feeling like outcasts. But he couldn't. Not even Spencer Smith was strong enough for the backlash that would cause.
Sometimes Spencer stood in front of the mirror, looking at the sharp planes of his jaw and the roundness of his cheeks. He was starting to get stubble due to the shots, but he hadn't given into shaving yet. He was almost afraid that if he shaved, the hair wouldn't come back and it would have all been a dream.
It was becoming harder to hide from Jon, though. Ryan, Brendon, and Jon had no problem changing in front of each other, so Jon was bound to have noticed Spencer dodging behind doors or waiting until they had left to change.
Thankfully, Jon was nothing if not a gentleman and he was still unsure of his place in the band, despite having been made an official member a month ago. So, he said nothing and Spencer felt secure in knowing he was hiding things well.
"How much longer are you going to keep it from Jon?" Brendon asked, not looking up from his video game.
Spencer shot a glance at the bunks, where Jon was supposedly sleeping. "What do you mean?"
Brendon glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. Normally it was Ryan that bugged him about this. Ryan, who didn't see the point in hiding anything and believed that if he could be himself then everyone else had the same right. Brendon usually didn't comment.
"Do you think I should?" Spencer sighed, curling in on himself, arms wrapping around his knees. Brendon let out a thoughtful sound, seriously thinking about it. "I don't want Jon to end up like Brent."
"It wasn't your fault, you know," Brendon said. "I know Brent said, when you called him...but he was just lashing out. Brent drifting away from us wasn't about you being transgendered." Brendon sent him a smile. "You're not that special, Spencer."
Spencer smiled slightly and Brendon went back to his video game. Spencer watched him for a few more minutes, before a yawn was ripped from his throat. Standing, he stretched and made his way to the bunks.
*
The idea of hanging out with bands like My Chemical Romance still boggled Spencer's mind. He knew he was bound to run into a My Chem member sooner or later, especially with all of the award shows they had been attending. The after parties all looked the same: the same drinks, the same people.
Feeling overwhelmed, Spencer found a lone balcony and stepped out into the night, breathing in the air and shutting the door behind him.
"Gets a little crazy in there, huh?" a voice asked. Spencer spun, spotting a dark figure leaning against the wall. Gerard grinned at him, a cigarette dangling loosely from his hand. "Sorry."
"I don't want to intrude--" Spencer started, heading back toward the door.
"Hey," Gerard cut him off, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, closer to the railing. Gerard moved to rest his forearms against the rail, peering up at Spencer with narrowed eyes. "You don't have to go. You're...what's the name...Spencer?"
"Yeah," Spencer replied, ignoring the swirling in his stomach. Gerard Way knew his name. Life couldn't get anymore bizarre. He turned away, looking up at the sky. The smog of whatever city they were in--Los Angeles? Sometimes they blurred.--made the stars dimmer, the atmosphere of the planet causing them to flicker. His mind raced through astronomy lessons as he tried to ignore Gerard, who seemed content to occasionally take a drag of his cigarette and peer down at civilization.
"Kind of makes you feel alone, doesn't it?" Gerard finally asked.
"Huh?"
Gerard waved his hand in a gentle flourish. "This. Look around you. There's so much out there and we're just two people. How can we be so important?"
Spencer had often asked that himself, though he had often changed the context, wondering why he was so important that he could feel justified in hating his own sex. "We're only important to those that know us."
"Probably," Gerard sighed. Spencer could feel Gerard's eyes on him, boring holes into his shields and armor. Spencer shivered. "Why aren't you at the party, living it up?"
"Why aren't you?" Spencer returned, turning to look at him. Their eyes met and Gerard smiled.
"Sometimes it's safer to avoid certain vices if you're not in the same room as them," Gerard admitted. "And I was feeling kind of down, so..." Gerard ground his cigarette into the railing, before turning his body to fully face Spencer. "You?"
"Being in there...it's like wearing a mask," Spencer said softly. "And... I have to wear a costume every day; I just wanted one night where I didn't have to. But, even if I was to go back to the hotel...I'd have to wear a mask for the security and..."
"It's not easy hiding in plain view."
Spencer's eyes darted away from Gerard, before jerking back, unable to stay away from him for too long. Gerard's face appeared too knowing, too clever. Spencer always had the suspicion, watching the interviews with My Chemical Romance, that Gerard was good at reading people and good at figuring out secrets. He had the type of gaze that could bore into someone's soul, like Brendon's touch and Ryan's loyalty.
"Hey, hey. Fuck, I'm sorry," Gerard said, taking two steps forward, bringing himself close to Spencer. Spencer sucked in a breath, suddenly aware that he could smell Gerard, even touch him if he reached out the scant inches.
"It's fine," Spencer told him. And it was. In fact, it felt more like a relief than anything, knowing that someone outside his close-knit circle of friends knew and, apparently, didn't see it as a big deal. Of course, this was Gerard Way, who had admitted to dressing in drag and managed to claim to want to save lives and actually mean it. That was a rare talent.
Gerard narrowed his eyes at Spencer. "Want to get out of here? I don't know about you, but I'm craving pancakes."
"Pancakes."
"There's nothing better than pancakes," Gerard said earnestly. Spencer wasn't able to hold back the urge to roll his eyes.
And that was how Spencer found himself at an IHOP with Gerard Way. Somehow they never ran out of things to talk about, though Spencer often found himself blushing throughout the entire conversation. He couldn't help it. Gerard got excited about the simple things in life and when he did he was just adorable.
"So, we're both in Seattle in two weeks," Gerard said as they stood, dropping a tip onto the table.
"And how do you know that? Are you stalking me now?" Spencer teased, a small part of his brain in utter awe that he felt comfortable enough to practically flirt with Gerard.
"Nah, Wentz's been pestering Mikey to check out his protégés," Gerard said. "He emailed us the tour dates."
"Oh."
"Anyway, I was thinking maybe we can meet up," Gerard said as they exited the building. Gerard practically beamed at him. "Maybe talk or something."
"Okay," Spencer said quickly. "I can...I can manage that."
*
"You're leaving us to become a My Chemical Romance groupie!" Brendon wailed dramatically.
"Did I miss something?" Spencer asked, looking at the others.
"Someone spent nearly all night with one Gerard Way," Ryan practically singsonged. Jon said nothing, an expression caught on his face that, depending on the way one looked at it, was both sour and confused.
"We had dinner," Spencer said, rolling his eyes.
"But...you don't think he's prettier than me, do you?" Brendon asked.
"I...well..." Spencer trailed off, eyeing Brendon.
"Oh come on, Brendon," Jon said, smiling slightly. "Everyone knows that Spencer's the pretty one."
*
Spencer had only had one boyfriend in his lifetime. If Mitchell Carter could be considered a boyfriend. They had gone out on three dates and on the third Mitchell had allowed his hands to get a little too friendly.
Spencer had ended up with a black eye, proof that Mitchell's father had never taught him to not hit a girl, and a rumor had quickly spread around the school about the fact that Spencer wasn't, in fact, a boy. Spencer had found irony in the fact that he wasn't being persecuted by his peers because he was gay, but because he was apparently a female pretending to be a guy who wanted to date other guys.
Because of that, Spencer had never become adept at flirting or figuring out when someone was flirting with him. Which is why he didn't notice it at first. Besides, it was Jon.
Ever since Spencer had hung out with Gerard and began texting him on a regular basis, Jon seemed to double his effort to hang out with him. Ryan watched all of this with a worried expression, but he never said a word to Spencer, possibly afraid of what would happen if Spencer found out that Jon was developing some sort of crush.
The closer they got to Seattle the more often Jon was found at Spencer's side. Or bringing him a latte. Or trying to find the correct kind of muffins Spencer liked for breakfast.
"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asked, reaching out to press the back of his hand to Jon's forehead.
"Yeah, why?"
"I don't know, you seem kind of out of it," Spencer said, almost suspiciously.
"Aww, I didn't know you cared," Jon teased, bumping into Spencer's side and grinning.
"I don't, but Brendon might cry if you die," Spencer replied, inspecting his nails. He could almost feel Jon chuckle. A soft smile fought at Spencer's lips. He glanced up at Jon, momentarily caught by Jon's gaze, before he reached down and grabbed his duffle bag. "Come on. We've got to check into the hotel."
They found Ryan and Brendon in the hotel, arguing over who was sharing. Finally, Ryan sighed and walked over to Spencer. "You're going to have to share with Jon tonight."
"What? But what if--?" Spencer began.
"Brendon and I have some things to talk about, lyrics and stuff," Ryan said. "Maybe tonight would be a good night to tell him."
"Yeah...yeah," Spencer sighed, accepting the card key from Ryan and heading for the elevator. He threw his bag onto one of the beds upon entering, shutting the door and heading for the bathroom. He had forty-five minutes before Gerard was due to show up, just enough time to take a shower.
He ignored the mirror as he unbound his breasts, throwing the binding onto the counter. He sighed, bit his lip, and looked down. They were smaller, by barely half a cup size, since the last time he had taken the time to look at them, before he had started the testosterone shots. His eyes jerked away and he continued to strip, throwing everything onto the floor and starting up the water.
The shower was relaxing, the warm liquid pounding at his aching back and shoulders. He took his time. At one point he heard Jon knocking on the door, yelling that he was going out to grab something to eat. It wasn't until the water turned lukewarm that he realized he had been in the shower for nearly the full forty-five minutes. He shut it off and yanked the curtain to the side. He took a moment to rotate his arms, relishing the lack of stiffness.
As he was reaching for the towel a short knock hit the door and Jon poked his head in. "Hey, Spencer, are you still in..."
Spencer screeched, fighting with the towel to cover himself. He held it against his body, from his shoulders down, looking at Jon, who stared back with wide eyes.
"...here." Jon finished weakly.
"Fuck," Spencer croaked, stepping out of the tub. Jon took a hasty step back, the door opening wider and hitting the wall. "Jon, stop."
"You're a girl," Jon stated, shaking his head. "I don't understand. Why...?"
"I'm not!" Spencer snapped, before clenching his eyes shut. "I mean."
"I don't know about you, but that was a girl's body right there." Jon sounded almost hysterical, like his world had been turned upside down. Spencer opened his eyes to see Jon take another step back. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Because it was my secret to tell," Spencer whispered. "And I didn't want you to look at me the way you're looking at me right now."
"Right. Okay. Right." Jon stumbled back farther, before heading for the door.
"Jon!" Spencer hovered in the doorway of the bathroom, feeling exposed and vulnerable without his clothing or bindings. "I'm sorry."
"Me, too." Jon didn't look at him as he stepped out of the hotel room. "I just...I need some space and time and...fuck."
Spencer watched him leave, the door remaining wide open. Spencer couldn't risk rushing over to close it, in case someone walked past and saw his body, so he stepped back into the bathroom and changed as quickly as possible. He forwent the binding, leaving his breasts free for the first time since they started appearing. He didn't have the time if he was going to stop Gerard from showing up. He fumbled with his Sidekick, scrolling for Gerard's number as he emerged, heading for the door to shut it.
"I hope you weren't planning on canceling," Gerard commenting, stopping him from shutting the door and glancing at the cell phone. Spencer blinked and stared at Gerard, not bothering to hide how upset he was. Gerard's face lost all teasing and he pushed himself inside, shutting the door behind him. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Jon," Spencer whispered, walking over to his bed and sitting down. He grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest. "He...saw me."
"Without the mask?" Gerard asked softly, carefully sitting next to him. Spencer nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," Spencer said.
*
Gerard let him mope for about an hour, before Spencer's sense of self kicked in and he returned to the bathroom to put on his binding and make sure he didn't have tear tracks on his face. His hair ended up looking a little wild, but Gerard never commented so Spencer figured it couldn't be that bad.
"Do you actually want to go anywhere?" Gerard asked, glancing at the clock. "It's nearly midnight. You need to get some sleep so you can be at the venue in time tomorrow."
"What about you?" Spencer asked, crawling back up the bed and falling onto his side next to Gerard.
"Free day," Gerard grinned. Spencer smiled weakly and glanced at the other bed. Gerard sighed. "He's going to come back."
"Brent didn't," Spencer pointed out.
"No, but...I think Jon's in it for the long run. He just needs some time to think about this and to...well, see how beautiful you are, male or female," Gerard said, reaching out to brush Spencer's hair out of his eyes.
"Yeah, right," Spencer muttered, rolling onto his back.
Gerard rolled to accommodate, ending up practically on top of Spencer. Spencer's breath caught in his throat and his stared up at Gerard, who grinned. "I like to surround myself with pretty things, Spencer Smith. I wouldn't have made the effort to be your friend these past two weeks if I didn't think you were handsome and worth it."
"I guess that explains Frank," Spencer commented.
Gerard laughed. "Probably."
"I don't feel very pretty or handsome," Spencer whispered. Gerard leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the corner of his mouth.
"Good thing your opinion doesn't really matter right now," Gerard joked.
And somehow, Spencer ended up kissing Gerard back. It was stupid and ridiculous, because all Spencer really wanted from Gerard was friendship, but no one had ever touched him like that while knowing what he was. Hell, the closest he had ever come to this was fumbling kisses in the back of Mitchell Carter's Volvo and a hand that had nearly bruised his ass (and later, his face).
This was so much better than that. Spencer whimpered softly into Gerard's mouth, clutching at the soft material of Gerard's shirt. He could feel Gerard pressed along his side, one hand resting on his hip. Gerard's tongue traced across his lower lip lightly and Spencer's mouth opened, deepening the kiss.
Desire began to fill Spencer's veins and his hips automatically rocked toward Gerard's. Gerard groaned into his mouth. Spencer gasped in response, the sound running straight down his spine. Heat pooled at his stomach and as Gerard lifted his hand, fingers trailing down Spencer's neck, an ache formed between his legs. Spencer moaned, body arching up against Gerard, as a strange throbbing sensation centered between his thighs. He felt empty, aching.
Immediately a sense of confusion overwhelmed him. His body wanted something inside, to hit some kind of unknown spot that Spencer hadn't realized existed. But the rest of him didn't recognize the feeling as his own.
Spencer shoved at Gerard's shoulders and jerked away, breathing frantically. Gerard let him go easily, watching warily as Spencer withdrew to the opposite side of the bed, back hitting the headboard. Spencer curled up, forehead resting on his knees.
"Spencer," Gerard said softly, voice sounding raw. Spencer fought down a spark of arousal and drew in a shaky breath. Gerard's hand--delicate, artist's hands--gently rested on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry, it just," Spencer bit his lip and looked up. "It felt wrong. That's not what it's supposed to feel like. I don't...I'm messed up. I'm sorry."
"Fuck, stop apologizing," Gerard ordered. "I get it, okay? It was probably a good idea to stop, anyway. I mean...yeah, good idea to stop."
"Yeah, aren't you supposed to be saving yourself for Frank?" Spencer asked, smiling tentatively at Gerard's protest.
Part 2
Title: You Only See What I Let You See
Author: frk_werewolf
Fandom: Bandom (Panic[!] at the Disco)
Pairing: Spencer/Jon, Spencer/Gerard friendship
Rating: PG-13 (for language and sexual situations)
Word Count: 10,895
Warnings: FtM Transgender issues
Summary: "You're not ashamed of who you are," Ryan said forcibly. "If he can't handle the change you're going through or the fact that your physical body doesn't quite meet up with who you are on the inside then I'm not so sure I want him in this band."
Disclaimer: I do not own or even know the guys in this fic. As far as I know, Spencer wasn't born female.
Author's Note: Title from Cobra Starship's Kiss My Sass.
"Shit. Fuck," Spencer growled, twisting his body in an attempt to reach between his shoulder blades. He sighed and relaxed his arms, taking a moment to pull the tan binding tighter around his chest. He reached backward again, his reflection in the mirror resembling a contortionist. The clasps fumbled in his hands as he attempted to hook them in place. They slipped out of his grasp. "God damn it!"
"Spencer?" Ryan's soft voice echoed through the doorway.
Spencer's head dropped down and he held the elastic binding in front of himself, drawing in a deep breath, hoping to relax. "Come in."
Ryan slipped inside easily, shutting the door before there was a chance of anyone seeing Spencer. Ryan eyed him a moment, before walking over and gently taking the material from his hands. The bus' tiny bathroom hardly gave enough room for Ryan to maneuver behind him, but Ryan managed. Spencer watched their reflection as Ryan slowly tightened the binding, causing Spencer's chest to flatten, to hide something he didn't want to believe was there. Ryan glanced up as he hooked the clasps into place.
"What's wrong?" Ryan finally asked.
"I just...wanted to make sure he didn't notice," Spencer admitted, scowling at his own words.
"Jon's seen you before," Ryan pointed out, resting his hand between Spencer's shoulder blades and meeting his eyes through the mirror.
"Not--" Spencer huffed. "He's going to be staying on our bus with us. Close up, Ryan! What if he suspects or--?"
"You're not ashamed of who you are," Ryan said forcibly. "If he can't handle the change you're going through or the fact that your physical body doesn't quite meet up with who you are on the inside then I'm not so sure I want him in this band."
"I know. I'm being paranoid." Spencer's jaw clenched and he reached for his shirt, nearly rolling his eyes as Ryan fussed with it, tugging it into place.
"You didn't tell me how the doctor's appointment went," Ryan commented, moving toward the door.
Slowly, Spencer smiled. "They, uh, approved of it. The testosterone injections, I mean. It's going to be hard keep up with the doses what with touring, but it's definitely doable. It's worth the effort."
"Of course it is," Ryan replied, smiling back. He pulled open the door to reveal Brendon standing there, fist raised to knock.
"Oh hey, guys!" Brendon beamed. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Was there a meeting in the urinal without my knowledge?"
"Where's Jon?" Ryan asked, pushing past Brendon.
Brendon draped himself over Spencer when he emerged, still grinning. "Being warned about our fiendish ways by William. You'd think William thought we were evil masterminds or something." Brendon paused, glancing over at Spencer. "Well, maybe he's right about one of us. But I'm perfectly innocent--"
Ryan snorted.
"I am!" Brendon protested, before innocently groping Spencer's ass. Spencer swiped at him, but Brendon has learned how to dodge Spencer's hits within a week of meeting him. "What? It was a love pat!"
"Jon's going to think we're insane," Spencer commented.
"Oh, good, then I'll feel right at home," Jon said from the bus doorway, smiling brightly.
*
Spencer doesn't exactly remember his very first conversation with Ryan; he was way too young of course. But he does remember, distinctly, telling Ryan at the so-called tender age of eight that he was going to be a boy when he grew up.
"But...you're a girl," Ryan said, eyeing Spencer's pink shirt with a vague sense of confusion.
"Maybe now I am, but God got it wrong," Spencer insisted. He was sure of this. It was the only explanation; even though as an eight year old Spencer didn't really have a good grasp of what God was, exactly, except the people on television seemed to think God controlled things. And some even claimed that if you sent them money, God would work magic. Spencer had thought about saving up his allowance and sending it in, asking for a boy's body, but his mother's habit of scoffing and turning the channel gave him the impression that these people didn't know what they were talking about.
"But...if you're going to be a boy, then you have to have a boy's name," Ryan said, logically.
"I do," Spencer replied, rolling his eyes.
"Well, what is it then? I've never heard it!" Ryan didn't like being the last person to know things. Which is why Spencer had told him about really being a boy before he told his mother.
"My real name's Spencer," he replied.
Ryan eyed him again, biting his lip. Then, he shrugged. "Okay. I can call you Spencer."
After that, Ryan had taken it in complete stride that Spencer was in fact a boy. Ryan had the habit of believing people were what they wanted to be, and not what others forced them to be. So, if Spencer felt like a boy, then he was a boy. It had taken until middle school before Spencer had realized how lucky he was to have a friend that open minded.
*
The thing was, most people expected Spencer's transgender identity to be a big deal. When Pete had found out he had freaked, wondering how they were going to keep this quiet because he knew the tabloids would just hound Spencer. But Spencer had been acting out the part of a boy in every aspect but physical since he had been allowed to take over his own clothing choices and had gained a small amount of independence from his mother's side. He knew how to play the game, how to keep people from suspecting.
In fact, Spencer prided himself in being so good at being a boy that he was even able to wear girl's clothing without anyone questioning.
The day Spencer received his first testosterone shot he had expected to feel different, like he would suddenly feel manlier or something. But he felt the same, only justified. Finally, after all of these years of knowing he was in a mold that didn't fit he was getting it fixed, he was doing something about it.
"What are you so happy about?" Jon asked, smiling.
Spencer let his hair fall into his eyes and picked at the knee of his jeans. He shrugged. "Nothing."
"That's not a nothing face. That's a dream come true happy face," Jon replied, bumping Spencer's shoulder with his own.
"Maybe...maybe my dream did come true," Spencer said slowly, looking up to meet Jon's eyes. Jon looked at him a moment, almost staring, before his gaze pulled away.
"That's good," Jon offered. "Though I don't see how anyone could be excited about going to the doctor. You're a weird one, Spencer Smith."
"Says the man that got excited over beaded flip-flops," Spencer said derisively.
"I'll turn you to the dark side someday, just you wait."
"The dark side of flip-flops."
"Exactly," Jon grinned.
"Right," Spencer stood, stretching, ignoring Jon's eyes gravitating toward his hips. He fought down a blush. No matter how easily he was able to bind his breasts down, hide them from even his own view, his hips presented a problem. Thankfully, most people seemed to find a boy with slight curves attractive instead of a freak, as compared to the hooligans he went to high school with.
He turned away from Jon and ventured to the back of the bus, where he spotted Brendon watching a movie. Thankful Ryan wasn't around to see, Spencer crawled onto the couch next to Brendon and curled up against his side. He always felt a moment of weakness when this close to Brendon, like by a simple touch Brendon had the ability to bare his soul to the world.
"Tired?" Brendon asked, his head dropping onto Spencer's shoulder.
Spencer hummed in reply and let Brendon rub circles into his side.
*
"He's going to freak out!" Spencer hissed, twisting the lid off his soda with a violent jerk. He could hear Brendon laughing in the other room with Brent.
"If he's going to be in this band--" Ryan began.
"Then we need to make sure he's not a bastard who will judge me," Spencer recited. "Ryan, look at how Brent looks at me. Brendon's led an even more cloistered life than him. Last time I checked Mormons didn't approve of gender changes."
"But it's important that--" Ryan started.
"Ryan!" Spencer snapped, voice low and even. "I love you, but I'm getting a little sick and tired of being your cause for social justice."
Ryan blinked at him, mouth opening before snapping shut. After a moment's pause he nodded, turning back to the refrigerator to grab another drink. He was obviously hiding behind the door. Spencer sighed, reached out and ruffled Ryan's hair. He could see Ryan's back visibly relax.
"Maybe...maybe I'll tell him," Spencer said softly.
He didn't tell Brendon right away. In fact, he waited three months. In the mean time, Brendon acted oblivious. Even to this day Spencer doesn't know if Brendon ever suspected. Probably not, because upon being told that the drummer of his new band was actually a female who was a male on the inside? Brendon had blinked rapidly, looked him up and down, and asked to be left alone for a few minutes.
"I told you he was going to react badly," Spencer told Ryan, gripping his drumsticks and ignoring the looks Brent was shooting them.
Spencer didn't let Ryan reply. Instead, he stormed over to his drum kit and began playing, releasing a tide of steady beats and harsh rhythms, pretending he was the only person in the room. It was easier behind his drums to pretend this all wasn't an actual problem. That he wasn't some kind of freak who couldn't get over the fact that, yes, he had breasts and a fucking vagina. Here, arms flying and sweat forming between his shoulder blades, he was exactly what he wanted to be: a drummer, a male drummer.
A hand landed on his shoulder, yanking him from his thoughts. He jerked in shock, twisting on his stool to see Brendon. He had a look of uncertainty on his face, but he was smiling, a gentle curve of his lips. Slowly, Spencer returned the smile.
"You are who you are, Spencer Smith," Brendon said softly. "And fuck if I'm going to let a lack of boy parts keep me from being your friend."
Brent shook his head from his corner of the room, while Spencer pulled Brendon into a small hug, which grew tighter with Brendon's enthusiasm. Spencer glanced over at Brent and sighed. It wasn't that Brent didn't like Spencer; they would have been best friends if Ryan weren’t already in that role. Its just Brent was uncomfortable when the topic of Spencer's actual gender came up. He was obviously happier being ignorant.
*
Sometimes Spencer wanted to go out onstage and scream into the microphone, to tell the whole world exactly what he was and exactly what he was doing to his body. The urge became stronger the more testosterone shots he received. There was a tension in his body now, and knowledge that he was fundamentally changing in a way that he had always assumed could only occur mentally.
He thought of all the teenagers feeling stuck in a body not their own and wondered if by going public he could help them, keep them from feeling like outcasts. But he couldn't. Not even Spencer Smith was strong enough for the backlash that would cause.
Sometimes Spencer stood in front of the mirror, looking at the sharp planes of his jaw and the roundness of his cheeks. He was starting to get stubble due to the shots, but he hadn't given into shaving yet. He was almost afraid that if he shaved, the hair wouldn't come back and it would have all been a dream.
It was becoming harder to hide from Jon, though. Ryan, Brendon, and Jon had no problem changing in front of each other, so Jon was bound to have noticed Spencer dodging behind doors or waiting until they had left to change.
Thankfully, Jon was nothing if not a gentleman and he was still unsure of his place in the band, despite having been made an official member a month ago. So, he said nothing and Spencer felt secure in knowing he was hiding things well.
"How much longer are you going to keep it from Jon?" Brendon asked, not looking up from his video game.
Spencer shot a glance at the bunks, where Jon was supposedly sleeping. "What do you mean?"
Brendon glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. Normally it was Ryan that bugged him about this. Ryan, who didn't see the point in hiding anything and believed that if he could be himself then everyone else had the same right. Brendon usually didn't comment.
"Do you think I should?" Spencer sighed, curling in on himself, arms wrapping around his knees. Brendon let out a thoughtful sound, seriously thinking about it. "I don't want Jon to end up like Brent."
"It wasn't your fault, you know," Brendon said. "I know Brent said, when you called him...but he was just lashing out. Brent drifting away from us wasn't about you being transgendered." Brendon sent him a smile. "You're not that special, Spencer."
Spencer smiled slightly and Brendon went back to his video game. Spencer watched him for a few more minutes, before a yawn was ripped from his throat. Standing, he stretched and made his way to the bunks.
*
The idea of hanging out with bands like My Chemical Romance still boggled Spencer's mind. He knew he was bound to run into a My Chem member sooner or later, especially with all of the award shows they had been attending. The after parties all looked the same: the same drinks, the same people.
Feeling overwhelmed, Spencer found a lone balcony and stepped out into the night, breathing in the air and shutting the door behind him.
"Gets a little crazy in there, huh?" a voice asked. Spencer spun, spotting a dark figure leaning against the wall. Gerard grinned at him, a cigarette dangling loosely from his hand. "Sorry."
"I don't want to intrude--" Spencer started, heading back toward the door.
"Hey," Gerard cut him off, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, closer to the railing. Gerard moved to rest his forearms against the rail, peering up at Spencer with narrowed eyes. "You don't have to go. You're...what's the name...Spencer?"
"Yeah," Spencer replied, ignoring the swirling in his stomach. Gerard Way knew his name. Life couldn't get anymore bizarre. He turned away, looking up at the sky. The smog of whatever city they were in--Los Angeles? Sometimes they blurred.--made the stars dimmer, the atmosphere of the planet causing them to flicker. His mind raced through astronomy lessons as he tried to ignore Gerard, who seemed content to occasionally take a drag of his cigarette and peer down at civilization.
"Kind of makes you feel alone, doesn't it?" Gerard finally asked.
"Huh?"
Gerard waved his hand in a gentle flourish. "This. Look around you. There's so much out there and we're just two people. How can we be so important?"
Spencer had often asked that himself, though he had often changed the context, wondering why he was so important that he could feel justified in hating his own sex. "We're only important to those that know us."
"Probably," Gerard sighed. Spencer could feel Gerard's eyes on him, boring holes into his shields and armor. Spencer shivered. "Why aren't you at the party, living it up?"
"Why aren't you?" Spencer returned, turning to look at him. Their eyes met and Gerard smiled.
"Sometimes it's safer to avoid certain vices if you're not in the same room as them," Gerard admitted. "And I was feeling kind of down, so..." Gerard ground his cigarette into the railing, before turning his body to fully face Spencer. "You?"
"Being in there...it's like wearing a mask," Spencer said softly. "And... I have to wear a costume every day; I just wanted one night where I didn't have to. But, even if I was to go back to the hotel...I'd have to wear a mask for the security and..."
"It's not easy hiding in plain view."
Spencer's eyes darted away from Gerard, before jerking back, unable to stay away from him for too long. Gerard's face appeared too knowing, too clever. Spencer always had the suspicion, watching the interviews with My Chemical Romance, that Gerard was good at reading people and good at figuring out secrets. He had the type of gaze that could bore into someone's soul, like Brendon's touch and Ryan's loyalty.
"Hey, hey. Fuck, I'm sorry," Gerard said, taking two steps forward, bringing himself close to Spencer. Spencer sucked in a breath, suddenly aware that he could smell Gerard, even touch him if he reached out the scant inches.
"It's fine," Spencer told him. And it was. In fact, it felt more like a relief than anything, knowing that someone outside his close-knit circle of friends knew and, apparently, didn't see it as a big deal. Of course, this was Gerard Way, who had admitted to dressing in drag and managed to claim to want to save lives and actually mean it. That was a rare talent.
Gerard narrowed his eyes at Spencer. "Want to get out of here? I don't know about you, but I'm craving pancakes."
"Pancakes."
"There's nothing better than pancakes," Gerard said earnestly. Spencer wasn't able to hold back the urge to roll his eyes.
And that was how Spencer found himself at an IHOP with Gerard Way. Somehow they never ran out of things to talk about, though Spencer often found himself blushing throughout the entire conversation. He couldn't help it. Gerard got excited about the simple things in life and when he did he was just adorable.
"So, we're both in Seattle in two weeks," Gerard said as they stood, dropping a tip onto the table.
"And how do you know that? Are you stalking me now?" Spencer teased, a small part of his brain in utter awe that he felt comfortable enough to practically flirt with Gerard.
"Nah, Wentz's been pestering Mikey to check out his protégés," Gerard said. "He emailed us the tour dates."
"Oh."
"Anyway, I was thinking maybe we can meet up," Gerard said as they exited the building. Gerard practically beamed at him. "Maybe talk or something."
"Okay," Spencer said quickly. "I can...I can manage that."
*
"You're leaving us to become a My Chemical Romance groupie!" Brendon wailed dramatically.
"Did I miss something?" Spencer asked, looking at the others.
"Someone spent nearly all night with one Gerard Way," Ryan practically singsonged. Jon said nothing, an expression caught on his face that, depending on the way one looked at it, was both sour and confused.
"We had dinner," Spencer said, rolling his eyes.
"But...you don't think he's prettier than me, do you?" Brendon asked.
"I...well..." Spencer trailed off, eyeing Brendon.
"Oh come on, Brendon," Jon said, smiling slightly. "Everyone knows that Spencer's the pretty one."
*
Spencer had only had one boyfriend in his lifetime. If Mitchell Carter could be considered a boyfriend. They had gone out on three dates and on the third Mitchell had allowed his hands to get a little too friendly.
Spencer had ended up with a black eye, proof that Mitchell's father had never taught him to not hit a girl, and a rumor had quickly spread around the school about the fact that Spencer wasn't, in fact, a boy. Spencer had found irony in the fact that he wasn't being persecuted by his peers because he was gay, but because he was apparently a female pretending to be a guy who wanted to date other guys.
Because of that, Spencer had never become adept at flirting or figuring out when someone was flirting with him. Which is why he didn't notice it at first. Besides, it was Jon.
Ever since Spencer had hung out with Gerard and began texting him on a regular basis, Jon seemed to double his effort to hang out with him. Ryan watched all of this with a worried expression, but he never said a word to Spencer, possibly afraid of what would happen if Spencer found out that Jon was developing some sort of crush.
The closer they got to Seattle the more often Jon was found at Spencer's side. Or bringing him a latte. Or trying to find the correct kind of muffins Spencer liked for breakfast.
"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asked, reaching out to press the back of his hand to Jon's forehead.
"Yeah, why?"
"I don't know, you seem kind of out of it," Spencer said, almost suspiciously.
"Aww, I didn't know you cared," Jon teased, bumping into Spencer's side and grinning.
"I don't, but Brendon might cry if you die," Spencer replied, inspecting his nails. He could almost feel Jon chuckle. A soft smile fought at Spencer's lips. He glanced up at Jon, momentarily caught by Jon's gaze, before he reached down and grabbed his duffle bag. "Come on. We've got to check into the hotel."
They found Ryan and Brendon in the hotel, arguing over who was sharing. Finally, Ryan sighed and walked over to Spencer. "You're going to have to share with Jon tonight."
"What? But what if--?" Spencer began.
"Brendon and I have some things to talk about, lyrics and stuff," Ryan said. "Maybe tonight would be a good night to tell him."
"Yeah...yeah," Spencer sighed, accepting the card key from Ryan and heading for the elevator. He threw his bag onto one of the beds upon entering, shutting the door and heading for the bathroom. He had forty-five minutes before Gerard was due to show up, just enough time to take a shower.
He ignored the mirror as he unbound his breasts, throwing the binding onto the counter. He sighed, bit his lip, and looked down. They were smaller, by barely half a cup size, since the last time he had taken the time to look at them, before he had started the testosterone shots. His eyes jerked away and he continued to strip, throwing everything onto the floor and starting up the water.
The shower was relaxing, the warm liquid pounding at his aching back and shoulders. He took his time. At one point he heard Jon knocking on the door, yelling that he was going out to grab something to eat. It wasn't until the water turned lukewarm that he realized he had been in the shower for nearly the full forty-five minutes. He shut it off and yanked the curtain to the side. He took a moment to rotate his arms, relishing the lack of stiffness.
As he was reaching for the towel a short knock hit the door and Jon poked his head in. "Hey, Spencer, are you still in..."
Spencer screeched, fighting with the towel to cover himself. He held it against his body, from his shoulders down, looking at Jon, who stared back with wide eyes.
"...here." Jon finished weakly.
"Fuck," Spencer croaked, stepping out of the tub. Jon took a hasty step back, the door opening wider and hitting the wall. "Jon, stop."
"You're a girl," Jon stated, shaking his head. "I don't understand. Why...?"
"I'm not!" Spencer snapped, before clenching his eyes shut. "I mean."
"I don't know about you, but that was a girl's body right there." Jon sounded almost hysterical, like his world had been turned upside down. Spencer opened his eyes to see Jon take another step back. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Because it was my secret to tell," Spencer whispered. "And I didn't want you to look at me the way you're looking at me right now."
"Right. Okay. Right." Jon stumbled back farther, before heading for the door.
"Jon!" Spencer hovered in the doorway of the bathroom, feeling exposed and vulnerable without his clothing or bindings. "I'm sorry."
"Me, too." Jon didn't look at him as he stepped out of the hotel room. "I just...I need some space and time and...fuck."
Spencer watched him leave, the door remaining wide open. Spencer couldn't risk rushing over to close it, in case someone walked past and saw his body, so he stepped back into the bathroom and changed as quickly as possible. He forwent the binding, leaving his breasts free for the first time since they started appearing. He didn't have the time if he was going to stop Gerard from showing up. He fumbled with his Sidekick, scrolling for Gerard's number as he emerged, heading for the door to shut it.
"I hope you weren't planning on canceling," Gerard commenting, stopping him from shutting the door and glancing at the cell phone. Spencer blinked and stared at Gerard, not bothering to hide how upset he was. Gerard's face lost all teasing and he pushed himself inside, shutting the door behind him. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Jon," Spencer whispered, walking over to his bed and sitting down. He grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest. "He...saw me."
"Without the mask?" Gerard asked softly, carefully sitting next to him. Spencer nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," Spencer said.
*
Gerard let him mope for about an hour, before Spencer's sense of self kicked in and he returned to the bathroom to put on his binding and make sure he didn't have tear tracks on his face. His hair ended up looking a little wild, but Gerard never commented so Spencer figured it couldn't be that bad.
"Do you actually want to go anywhere?" Gerard asked, glancing at the clock. "It's nearly midnight. You need to get some sleep so you can be at the venue in time tomorrow."
"What about you?" Spencer asked, crawling back up the bed and falling onto his side next to Gerard.
"Free day," Gerard grinned. Spencer smiled weakly and glanced at the other bed. Gerard sighed. "He's going to come back."
"Brent didn't," Spencer pointed out.
"No, but...I think Jon's in it for the long run. He just needs some time to think about this and to...well, see how beautiful you are, male or female," Gerard said, reaching out to brush Spencer's hair out of his eyes.
"Yeah, right," Spencer muttered, rolling onto his back.
Gerard rolled to accommodate, ending up practically on top of Spencer. Spencer's breath caught in his throat and his stared up at Gerard, who grinned. "I like to surround myself with pretty things, Spencer Smith. I wouldn't have made the effort to be your friend these past two weeks if I didn't think you were handsome and worth it."
"I guess that explains Frank," Spencer commented.
Gerard laughed. "Probably."
"I don't feel very pretty or handsome," Spencer whispered. Gerard leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the corner of his mouth.
"Good thing your opinion doesn't really matter right now," Gerard joked.
And somehow, Spencer ended up kissing Gerard back. It was stupid and ridiculous, because all Spencer really wanted from Gerard was friendship, but no one had ever touched him like that while knowing what he was. Hell, the closest he had ever come to this was fumbling kisses in the back of Mitchell Carter's Volvo and a hand that had nearly bruised his ass (and later, his face).
This was so much better than that. Spencer whimpered softly into Gerard's mouth, clutching at the soft material of Gerard's shirt. He could feel Gerard pressed along his side, one hand resting on his hip. Gerard's tongue traced across his lower lip lightly and Spencer's mouth opened, deepening the kiss.
Desire began to fill Spencer's veins and his hips automatically rocked toward Gerard's. Gerard groaned into his mouth. Spencer gasped in response, the sound running straight down his spine. Heat pooled at his stomach and as Gerard lifted his hand, fingers trailing down Spencer's neck, an ache formed between his legs. Spencer moaned, body arching up against Gerard, as a strange throbbing sensation centered between his thighs. He felt empty, aching.
Immediately a sense of confusion overwhelmed him. His body wanted something inside, to hit some kind of unknown spot that Spencer hadn't realized existed. But the rest of him didn't recognize the feeling as his own.
Spencer shoved at Gerard's shoulders and jerked away, breathing frantically. Gerard let him go easily, watching warily as Spencer withdrew to the opposite side of the bed, back hitting the headboard. Spencer curled up, forehead resting on his knees.
"Spencer," Gerard said softly, voice sounding raw. Spencer fought down a spark of arousal and drew in a shaky breath. Gerard's hand--delicate, artist's hands--gently rested on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry, it just," Spencer bit his lip and looked up. "It felt wrong. That's not what it's supposed to feel like. I don't...I'm messed up. I'm sorry."
"Fuck, stop apologizing," Gerard ordered. "I get it, okay? It was probably a good idea to stop, anyway. I mean...yeah, good idea to stop."
"Yeah, aren't you supposed to be saving yourself for Frank?" Spencer asked, smiling tentatively at Gerard's protest.
Part 2