fic: every turn a surprise (4/6)
Part Three
At their next stop, Brendon is looking forward to helping out with the deliveries. Ever since he and Spencer started hooking up, Brendon feels like he never gets to spend time with Jon, which is just unacceptable. What Brendon doesn't expect is to find Jon dressed and ready to go as he stumbles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and yawning, in search of breakfast.
"Since when are you a morning person?" Brendon mumbles as he reaches into the cabinet.
Jon shrugs. "Just looking forward to today, I guess."
Brendon smiles to himself at that. Jon probably doesn't mean hanging out with him, but... well, what else could he mean? Deliveries are never that exciting - well, unless you get bottles thrown at you, but that's not the good sort of exciting. "Well, why don't I grab something I can eat on the way so that we can get going?"
Jon smiles and wraps Brendon up in a huge hug. "No hurry, dude. Our pickup time isn't gonna change."
Brendon hums and allows himself to lean against Jon. He can usually sense when Jon enters a room because even without listening, his thoughts give off a serene vibe. It's so comforting.
"Waking up is suggested, though," Jon murmurs right up against Brendon's neck so that Brendon can feel the words vibrating.
"Five more minutes," he teases, languishing in the hug for a few more seconds before convincing himself to pull away.
Even after Jon's assurance, Brendon still feels the need to rush through breakfast, and he's just finishing up when Spencer stumbles into the kitchen. He blinks at the two of them for a moment, looks behind himself into the common area, then back at them.
"Yeah, yeah. We're up early," Brendon quips, shooting Spencer a fond smile.
"I'm just wondering why today is opposite day," Spencer says. Despite his talk, he's obviously more ready for the day than Brendon, who hasn't bothered to change into his usual delivery clothes. As Spencer settles in the seat next to Brendon, he presses one lingering kiss against Brendon's lips.
Brendon pulls away with the slight taste of Spencer's mouthwash on his lips, only to notice that Spencer is looking at Jon instead of back at him. What's Jon so giddy about? Spencer asks, turning to his breakfast.
He says it's just a good mood, Brendon replies. He carefully puts away all of his dishes as he contemplates the matter. Think there's something up?
"What's with the huge smile, Walker?" Spencer asks, presumably to dig deeper.
"I dunno," Jon says unconvincingly. "Ever just wake up and know that you're gonna have a good day?"
Spencer shrugs. "Sure, I guess." To Brendon, he says, Could be something. Nothing bad though.
"C'mon," Brendon says to Jon. "Let's go start that good day."
The rest of the day passes in a happy blur, and Brendon has a bounce in his step by the time all the work is done. He's pretty sure Jon's good mood is contagious.
"D'you mind if we go back to the ship?" Jon asks as they head out after their last delivery.
"Fine with me," Brendon says, shrugging. "Why? Don't feel like going to the bar tonight?"
"Oh, no. I just wanna change before heading out."
This confuses Brendon, because Jon is never one to care about what he's wearing, especially to the bar, but he doesn't argue.
He figures that maybe Jon is onto something though, and since he's there, he might as well change too. He finds a red button-up that he knows Spencer likes on him and changes out his work shirt for it. He goes back out to wait for Jon, and then blinks in surprise when Jon comes out of his room.
"Um," he says.
Jon looks a bit sheepish, but he doesn't actually respond. He's gonna make Brendon say it.
"Is there a reason you came all the way back just to change into a shirt with a huge stain on it?"
"It's good luck," Jon says automatically, looking past Brendon and heading for the elevator. Brendon isn't sure if he believes in things being good luck, but he's in favor of anything that makes Jon smile so much.
"Whatever you say, man," Brendon answers with a smile. "Hey, isn't this the same bar you got falling-down drunk at last time?"
Jon actually giggles. Brendon stares at him in wonder, unsure exactly what's gotten into him. "Yeah, I was a little confused about things last time we were here. Sorry if I did anything weird that night? I don't exactly remember the details."
Brendon shakes his head, laughing to himself. "You are a wonder, Jon Walker."
"I try to keep the mystery alive," Jon quips, pulling Brendon into a side hug. "I promise not to get falling-down drunk tonight, even if things aren't as awesome as I hope they'll be."
Now Brendon knows there's something bigger going on, but he doesn't have it in him to pry. "That was a while ago anyway," Brendon says. "Now you've got your bestest best friend - and I'm a lot better than 5 shots of Jack, right?"
A smile spreads over Jon's face, slow and sure, and Brendon swears that Jon gives him a once-over briefly before making eye contact again. That and the way Jon mumbles, "Of course," make Brendon swallow and look away.
The moment blows over, though, and they walk to the bar with friendly conversation. Jon asks how things are with Spencer, and Brendon tries not to get too giddy or give out what Spencer insists is private information. He's just bad at filtering, okay? It's not a big deal anyway, it's just Jon, and Jon doesn't seem uncomfortable hearing about every detail of Brendon's relationship.
Once they get to the bar, Brendon decides he's not gonna abandon Ryan and Jon this time. Tonight, they can all hang out together.
"It's about time you two got here," Ryan complains, approaching them almost as soon as they get inside. "What did--" He cuts himself off, eyes trained on the obvious stain on Jon's shirt. "Jon. I thought you told me you were gonna clean that shirt."
"I tried," Jon says, but the shit-eating grin on his face says otherwise. "It just wouldn't cooperate."
Ryan heaves a put-upon sigh and reaches for Jon's hand. "Come on, I can fix this," he says, pulling Jon toward the bathrooms. "Spencer's in one of the booths!" he shouts at Brendon, waving in a vague right-hand direction.
"See ya, Bren!" Jon says with that same excited tone. Brendon isn't sure what just happened, but he has a feeling Jon might have maybe planned it. He shrugs and goes to find Spencer.
"So the weirdest thing just happened," he says as soon as he's within shouting distance of Spencer. "Oh! Sorry," he adds when he sees Pete sitting opposite Spencer, obviously mid-sentence.
Pete is completely oblivious to Brendon's interruption, though, and keeps on talking with wild gestures. Brendon has no idea what he's talking about and quickly loses interest. At the bar, he meets up with Patrick, who engages him in conversation about the quality of the old music that never gets played anymore.
"It's just, there's so much good stuff from over a century ago, but how can you convince people to listen when they can't even imagine being alive back then?"
Brendon nods enthusiastically. "And if you listen to stuff from a long time ago, it's like so much new music since then is a bad copy of it."
"Exactly!" Patrick says emphatically, gesturing wildly. "There are only so many combinations of notes, I guess, but the quality of music was just so much higher back in the day. Quality!"
Brendon smiles when it dawns on him that Patrick is already pretty tipsy. The bartender asks him then if he wants anything to drink. Brendon looks back at Spencer, who doesn't have anything, and decides to pass for tonight. Maybe Spencer has other plans.
"Let's go break up the business talk," Patrick mumbles, grabbing Brendon by the arm and leading him back to Spencer and Pete's booth.
Patrick slides effortlessly into the space beside Pete, who pulls Patrick in instantly. Brendon can't help but pout when he looks at them, especially when Spencer continues his statement and completely ignores Brendon even as he sits unnaturally close to Spencer on the bench.
Patrick joins in on the conversation Pete and Spencer already started, and Brendon still has no idea what they're talking about. He sends the confusion he feels over to Spencer, who places his hand on Brendon's knee - some acknowledgment, at least - and smiles at him. He doesn't answer or explain, though.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Brendon finally says when Pete and Patrick pause to speak to each other.
"Okay. Hey," Spencer says, grabbing for Brendon's hand and pulling him down again. He pulls Brendon into a kiss, slow and sweet but still too brief for Brendon's taste. He half-expects Pete to be staring or making some scene about them, but when he looks, Pete is still completely engrossed in conversation with Patrick. Huh.
He pushes himself out of the booth to head for the bathroom, but he gets stopped briefly a couple of times saying hello to friends. When he does reach the door to the men's room, he's still smiling his polite smile from saying hi to William, and that's when he sees them.
Brendon takes in everything at once because he's not sure what to focus on first. There's Jon, shirtless, pushed up against the sink by Ryan, and their mouths are connected like it's the end of the world. There's Jon's hands, gripping Ryan's hips, and Ryan's hands, sliding down to the button of Jon's jeans even as Brendon blinks in surprise. There's Jon's lucky shirt, forgotten in the sink, and above all else there are the muffled noises as they make out that Brendon will surely have stuck in his head for days.
Brendon is able to enjoy the scene for 10, maybe 15 seconds before his face heats up, and he immediately feels guilty for watching when they obviously don't know he's there. He clears his throat loudly and says, "Not that I'm not cheering for you guys, but uh, you might wanna lock the door. It might not be me next time."
At first, they seem unperturbed by Brendon's presence, but they pull away right as Brendon finishes his last statement. They stare at each other with a look so intense that Brendon can practically feel it, and then almost in unison, they turn to him with that same look in their eyes. Brendon swallows, taking in Jon's dark eyes and swollen lips, then the same wrecked look on Ryan that he's seen once before. "Just sayin'," he says weakly, then pushes his way back out of the bathroom. He leans against the wall there for a brief moment, trying to knock himself out of it and breathe like a normal person.
When he's satisfied that he no longer looks like he's just been ravished (and Spencer always teases him about looking that way before he even touches him), he walks back to the main part of the bar to find Spencer. He doesn't find him at the booth, where Pete and Patrick are now deep in conversation with each other.
"There you are," he hears Spencer say from behind him, and then Spencer surprises him by pulling him onto the dance floor.
"Hi," Brendon says as soon as he faces Spencer, and he decides not to waste any of this nervous energy. He presses obscenely close to Spencer, who makes a surprised, then happy noise at the attention while they dance. "I missed you," he whispers millimeters away from Spencer's mouth, allowing Spencer to close the distance.
He does close the distance, humming his agreement into Brendon's mouth as they move to the beat of the song. "I could've used you there today," Spencer says when they break to catch their breath. "Ryan was bitching about Jon all day. I never really figured out what the problem was there."
"They're hooking up in the bathroom right now," Brendon explains before pushing his hips forward and pulling Spencer toward him simultaneously.
"What?" Spencer says, completely surprised, but then cuts off the end of his question with a not-quite-concealed moan as Brendon moves against him.
"Yeah," Brendon says, a little breathless himself, "I pretty much walked in on them. Hopefully they locked the door this time, but I have no idea with those two."
"Are you serious?" Spencer asks, seeming concerned even though his hands keep pulling insistently on Brendon's hips.
Brendon nods, biting his lip as Spencer grinds against him. The song stops way too abruptly and is replaced by something slow and torturous. "We should go back to the ship," Brendon suggests.
Spencer nods, and Brendon is happy to note that he's not the only one breathing heavily.
The crisp air outside is sobering; they weren't even drinking, but it's still the same feeling. Brendon is satisfied to cling to Spencer's hand and wait until they get back to the confines of the ship to jump his bones.
"I can't believe he didn't tell me," Spencer mutters, mostly to himself.
Brendon makes a sympathetic noise and squeezes Spencer's hand. "Jon didn't say anything to me," he points out, for what it's worth.
"I should have known. If I'd been paying more attention..."
Brendon doesn't respond. He knows they've both been ignoring Ryan and Jon more since they got together. He doesn't want to break up, but he would like it if they could hang out as a group more often. He gives Spencer the silence he needs until the get into the ship, across the cargo deck, into and out of the elevator, into his room.
As if on cue, Spencer shakes his head and smiles slyly at Brendon. "I hope you plan to make good on those promises your hips were making."
Brendon makes a face at the cheesiness of that, especially coming from Spencer. "That sounds like something I would say," Brendon points out with a laugh.
Spencer pauses, seeming to reflect on his words, and then makes a horrified face. "It does."
"Maybe we have been spending too much time together," Brendon says, and they're both laughing.
As their laughter dies out, Spencer schools his features into a serious expression. "We'll do better from now on," he says confidently.
Brendon shrugs. "Unless... I mean, if this is more than a one-time thing, they might start shutting us out like we did to them," he points out.
Spencer nods, thinking it over. "I guess we kinda deserve that."
Brendon rolls his eyes and pulls at Spencer's shirt. "Now what was that thing about my hips?"
******
Brendon doesn't see Jon the next day until lunchtime. Spencer is off working with the captain, and Brendon is killing some time by playing a game on the kitchen's monitor. He doesn't hear Jon coming but he perks up instantly when he hears him murmur, "G'morning," and open the cabinet.
Brendon whirls around, giving Jon his biggest smile and pouncing on him with a hug. "Jon Walker," he says when he sees Jon's triumphant grin, "you have to tell me everything."
Jon raises his eyebrows. "Everything?"
"Yes," Brendon insists. "I can't believe that lucky shirt thing worked!"
Jon ducks his head and laughs. "Well I wasn't actually wearing the shirt the whole time, you know."
"Did you guys hook up in the bathroom?" Brendon asks eagerly.
"What?" Jon laughs harder, eyes sparkling. "Spencer won't let you give me details, why shouldn't I do the same to you?"
"Aw, c'mon, I just wanna know. Did you lock the door after I left?"
Jon studies Brendon's expression for a few seconds, and Brendon tries not to feel self-conscious. Finally, he says, "There wasn't a lock on the door." He pauses again, but Brendon waits patiently. Well, as patiently as he can. "So Ryan decided I should lean up against it to keep it shut."
Brendon's mouth falls open of its own accord. He hadn't really expected Jon to give any details, but the instant image springs up fully formed in his mind. Jon smirks at him, and Brendon is seconds away from asking more when the door to the bathroom slides open and Ryan walks out, shirtless and still soaking wet. Ryan doesn't look at either of them, even though they're both watching, but instead walks straight into his room.
"I'll tell you the rest later," Jon says solemnly, winking.
"Are you two...?" Brendon begins quietly, not sure how to end the sentence without sounding like an idiot.
"Yeah, sort of," Jon says. "We're not completely exclusive, but--"
"Why not?" Brendon asks.
Jon shrugs and meets Brendon's gaze as he says, "We're just open to other things, y'know?"
Brendon doesn't know why that makes him want to squirm, but it does. "Sure, I guess."
A million more questions come to Brendon's mind, but he refrains from asking them now that Ryan could walk in at any moment. The permission that Jon seems to have given him is exciting, and he definitely intends to use it in the future.
******
Time passes. Jon does actually share some details with Brendon, but he starts to ask for details in return. Brendon's pretty sure he's allowed to confide in his best friend, and he's definitely sure he can trust Jon, but he still occasionally feels guilty. And if he dwells on the details Jon chooses to share a little too much in his free time, well, that's nobody's business but his own.
Remarkably, the four of them do find more time to hang out after Jon and Ryan start hooking up regularly. It's almost as if Brendon and Spencer are on the same schedule as Jon and Ryan, and whenever Brendon and Spencer decide to take some time for themselves, so do Jon and Ryan. What Brendon doesn't get is why, other than that first accidental moment in the bathroom, he's never seen Jon and Ryan touch each other more than casually, not even a kiss. He knows that Jon is comfortable with kissing, anywhere and anytime, and he expected that Ryan would be in favor of kissing just as much. When he realizes this argument is maybe just wishful thinking on his part, though, he decides not to bring it up to Jon.
Brendon keeps working with Spencer on his ability, but he's got to admit that he's mostly to blame when their attempts to work turn into makeout sessions and sometimes more than that. Despite all the progress he's made, Spencer's still not very good with his control during sex, and he sometimes sends messages to Brendon. Brendon knows this is normal, because he'd done it to his fair share of classmates when he was young and new at this. They weren't all so understanding. Lucky for Spencer, Brendon gets off on the unbidden thoughts that Spencer has to let him hear, and it's never a problem.
One night, while Spencer is riding Brendon, the message that suddenly slides into Brendon's mind is I bet Jon and Ryan look fucking amazing like this and there's even a mental image that makes Brendon throw his head back and moan, twisting his hand around his erection and coming hard, his orgasm slamming into him out of nowhere. Spencer looks at him, shocked for a second, and as the waves of Brendon's orgasm fade off pleasantly, he feels himself clench around Spencer and Spencer pushes in hard and comes, babbling Brendon's name.
A few minutes later, Brendon's heart is still pounding, but he's happy to lay there and let it keep right on. "Brendon," Spencer begins, sounding guilty.
"Spencer," Brendon says, impressed. Spencer blinks at him. "You sent a picture! Do you know how long it took me to figure that out when I was in school?"
"Two weeks?" Spencer asks, grinning.
"Three," Brendon jokes with a laugh, hitting Spencer playfully. "You give me too much credit."
"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," Spencer says, mockingly serious. "It's not like you were able to hack into our computer system in a few days or anything."
Brendon feels a jolt of paranoia, guilt, and fear all rolled up into one moment. He tries not to let it show, but it happens so suddenly that he can't keep straight the expression he's supposed to have right now.
"What? What's wrong?" Spencer asks, concerned. He pushes Brendon's hair off his forehead carefully, looking into Brendon's eyes.
"Nothing, just. A bad memory," Brendon says. Spencer shifts closer and presses his lips to Brendon's in a simple, sweet kiss. "Let's just go to sleep."
Spencer complies easily enough, and Brendon counts down from 1024 in binary to calm his mind before falling asleep. It helps, but not enough.
******
Brendon wakes up the next morning way too early. He stares at the ceiling and listens to Spencer's even breathing, hoping it will help him calm down. After a few minutes, though, he has to admit he's wide awake. His dreams were some mix of paranoia about being caught and about today's shipment, which will be the first one he delivers alone.
Sighing, he gives up on sleeping any longer and pushes out of bed. Spencer makes a sad face in his sleep when Brendon leaves his side, and Brendon smiles to himself as he sees it. He takes his time in the shower, letting the steady spray calm him down and reminding himself that he's done plenty of shipments now to handle one simple one on his own. As he sits alone in the kitchen, eating breakfast, he decides to leave early and get the delivery over with. The schedule didn't give a specific time, just said any time today, and this way he might be able to meet up with the guys early.
Ryan stumbles into the kitchen, hair sticking up and eyes barely open, just as Brendon is heading out. "Hey," Brendon says, "I'm gonna go make my delivery early. Could you let Spencer know for me?"
Ryan blinks at him for a few seconds, and Brendon wonders momentarily if he should repeat the question. But then Ryan says, "Sure." Brendon waits, but Ryan doesn't follow it up with anything, so he turns toward the elevator. "Hey, Brendon?"
"Yeah," Brendon says, voice tilting up at the end to make it a question.
"Just, good luck," Ryan says, mouth quirked up in a small smile.
Brendon instantly flashes back to his first delivery in his mind. The memory is confusing, as it was good and bad - mostly good, to be honest - but now he's not sure if he's allowed to see it that way. "Thanks," he says to Ryan, ignoring the memory.
He feels guilty opening the hatch, because it's bound to wake everyone up. But he gets the hover board out without incident and makes sure the hatch is secure before heading out.
The bus hub isn't too far of a walk, but when Brendon gets there, the latest bus is already pulling away. Sighing, he reads the schedule and sees that he's got another 45 minutes to wait. He goes to buy his ticket, guessing that's what he gets for leaving early. He connects to the hub's network on his device and settles in to watch a movie. It's just starting to get interesting when his ticket buzzes to call him for boarding, so he pauses it and heads outside.
For several awkward moments, Brendon attempts to load his delivery into the storage space. Passengers give him dirty looks, and he tries to avoid eye contact. If he could just get the hover board to cooperate and lower a fraction of a centimeter--
"Need some help with that, dear?" a kind female voice says to him from behind.
"Yes, that would be great, thank you."
She reaches up and pulls the hover board down, then shoves it into the space easily. Brendon smiles and thanks her again, supposing that's what he gets for trying to do it strictly with computers.
"I take it you're just visiting," she says, taking in his delivery clothes. They may not be universally recognized as delivery clothes, but they're unique enough on this planet to be recognized as alien.
"Yes, ma'am," he says. "Just here to make a delivery. I have a translating device that allows you to hear my words in your dialect and vice versa." On the bus, he takes a seat across from her in case she wants to continue their conversation. He knows she won't ask his name or what's he's delivering, but he still feels nervous. Working at the bar had been easy, with a specific script he could use on people and the security of working for an underground business. Now he has to judge for himself whether people are trustworthy, and on new planets with their own social norms, it's just too hard to tell sometimes.
Once the bus starts moving and she still hasn't spoken to him again, he guesses it wouldn't be rude to continue watching his movie. Three hours pass, and when he looks up from his screen, most of the passengers are gone. He pulls out his ticket to track how much longer he's got - about 20 minutes - and realizes that the woman is still sitting across from him, reading a physical copy of a book. Brendon tries to be subtle about trying to read the title - he's not used to being able to find out what people are reading just by observation, people are so private - but he fails spectacularly. She laughs at him and holds the book up straight so that he can read the title.
"Good Omens," Brendon reads. "What's that about?"
She smirks at him, shaking her head. "Just an unlikely group of people trying to save the world," she explains sweetly, looking for all her sincerity like there's a joke he's missing out on. "You're going pretty far out for your delivery," she says, setting her book aside.
"Yeah, I guess so. It's a pretty simple one, shouldn't take long, but we value face-to-face transactions in our company."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate that," she says as the bus stops, and just like that she grabs her book and slips out of the door. It's none of his business, but Brendon wishes he'd asked for her name. He has a feeling she would have told him.
The remaining 15 minutes seem to drag on, and Brendon has a much easier time getting his box out of the storage space than he had getting it in. He nods at the driver to signal that he has everything he needs, and blinks in surprise when the driver smiles and waves at him before driving off.
Brendon's still feeling good from the kindness of those two strangers when he pulls out his device and discovers that the connection he was feeding off of inside the bus is completely gone. His good mood fades almost instantly as he pulls up the map and the device never gets past the "Connecting..." page.
"No, no, no," Brendon whispers, trying to find a possible private network he can hack into. After several minutes of standing on the curb, frantically stabbing at his mobile device, he has to admit that it's not going to work.
He can't believe that there's not a single working network within his range. Their security must just be insanely good, keeping all other devices from leeching. He pauses to take a deep breath, then works hard to recall the map as he saw it before leaving the ship.
He wanders the streets for a while, looking for anything that he might recognize as being nearby, but after nearly an hour, he's so frustrated he wants to cry. He can't call anyone, he can't look at a map, and he can't even put out a distress signal. He turns around, wondering if he can even remember how to get back.
He's interrupted from this frantic mindset suddenly by a shout from the house behind him. He turns and discovers a young boy sitting on the ground next to the house, playing. The boy shouts again, and as Brendon watches, his father comes outside to check on him. Brendon feels a surge of hope, calling, "Excuse me?"
The father turns, surprised at first, then favors with Brendon a welcoming look. "Hello young man, can I help you?"
"I hope so. I'm afraid I'm very lost. I can't get a map up on my mobile device, and I'm trying to make a delivery," Brendon explains, gesturing at the hover board behind him.
"Where are you headed?" the man asks.
"2948 West Jales," Brendon says, his voice lilting up at the end to make it half a question.
"Oh, you've almost got it," the man assures him. "Just keep going about 5 blocks that way, then left for 3 blocks, and you'll see Jales."
Brendon thinks "almost got it" is a little generous, since he was heading in the wrong direction, but still. "Thank you so much."
"It's no trouble at all," the man says kindly, turning then to his son to help him up.
When Brendon gets to Jales, he discovers his problem -- the street changed names just a block from where he passed through earlier. He sighs in relief when he approaches the door to the correct house, and he checks the number twice before knocking.
An elderly woman answers the door, smiling warmly at Brendon. "You must be our delivery person."
"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry for the late hour, but I got a little lost."
A man approaches the doorway, smiling at Brendon in that same welcoming way. It's a bit strange for Brendon, with all these strangers being so nice to him. As a delivery boy, he's not used to much of a response from the typical stranger. Mostly people's gaze flicks over and away from him, and if they speak to him, it's only to ask for something from him. The man looks apologetic as he says, "That's right, your network devices don't work way out here. We're sorry about that," he says, looking to his wife. "I suppose we should have let you know that when we placed our order."
"It's no trouble," Brendon says politely, waving it off. He puts on his best delivery boy smile and asks them to please sign here to transfer their funds.
"Nonsense," the husband says, clapping a hand on Brendon's shoulder and leading him inside. "You look like you need a good meal, and we just so happen to have one sitting in the kitchen."
"Oh, I really don't want to impose--"
"Sit and eat," the woman admonishes, not unkindly. She reminds Brendon of his grandmother, fierce but still sweet. Aptly, his stomach rumbles right at that moment, so he is forced to laugh and accept their offer.
The meal is amazing, and the woman joins Brendon in praising the desert that her husband made. By the time Brendon eats his last bite, he feels full and content, and he can't stop thanking the two of them.
"Now, if you'll just sign? I guess the transaction won't go through until I get back on the bus, but--"
"Oh, no need to worry about that," the woman says. "We'll pay you with paper."
Brendon blinks at her for a moment. Paper?
"Paper money," the man clarifies, amused. "You'll just take it to the financial transfer center and they'll set you right up. We don't have an electronic account."
Electronic. The word is familiar, but it seems so... old. "I'm... not sure I know how all of that works," he says, hesitant.
"Oh, it's very simple," the woman says as she hands over a bundle of, sure enough, paper money. "I assume you got on the bus at the hub over in Adjunct?" At Brendon's nod, she continues, "Well, just two buildings over is the Exchange Center. They'll make the transfer for you, and you should have it in your account within the hour."
"Oh," Brendon says, unable to help himself in examining one of the pieces of paper money. "Sounds easy enough. Sorry for being so ignorant of all of this," he adds, feeling more like a fool than he has in a long time.
"Don't worry about it, son," the man says, walking with him to the door. Brendon smiles kindly back at him, feeling for once as if he's welcome, even as a random delivery boy. "We're very happy with your service. I'm sure will order from you again the next time you come around."
"That's great," Brendon says truthfully. "I'll do my best not to get lost next time."
With another round of smiles and goodbyes, Brendon pockets the stack of paper money and collapses the hover board, heading back in the direction given him to catch the bus. Luck is on his side this time, and the bus comes within five minutes of him reaching the stop.
As soon as he settles into his seat, he refreshes his device and feels a comfort and relief when it automatically connects, giving him access to the usual things. He has no new messages, which is mostly a good thing, though it seems a bit odd that no one would contact him all day. He sets the privacy volume on his seat, then settles in and calls Spencer.
The ring only sounds for a few seconds before it's cut off, and Spencer is responding with a relieved, "Brendon."
"Hi," Brendon says, a little surprised at Spencer's tone. "You sound... I dunno, like you weren't expecting me."
"You were out of contact all afternoon," Spencer says, and his voice still sounds funny.
"Yeah, there's apparently no network this far out," Brendon says, automatically keeping his voice low even though he knows the privacy settings are in effect. "I'm not sure? But I think this planet is still kind of new to the whole technology thing. The customers were really nice, older, but their stories didn't have much to do with computers."
Spencer makes a noise of assent, and Brendon can't help but feel more comfortable at the familiarness of it. "So we'll see you in a few hours?"
Brendon starts to answer 'yes,' but then he remembers the bulk of paper in his pocket. "A little longer, actually. I have to go down to the Exchange Center and finish this transaction first."
"You... what? You didn't complete the sale?"
"Not yet. I have to change over their paper money, but they assured me it was very simple."
"Oh," Spencer says. Brendon waits, but he doesn't say anything else. The silence stretches on, and finally Brendon clears his throat. "Well, the bar isn't far from the ship. We'll meet you there as soon as you're done."
Brendon still feels unsettled, like something's not right, but he doesn't know how to address it. "Okay," he says. "I'll see you soon. And..."
"Yeah?"
"Nothing. Just, I'm looking forward to seeing you," he says, smiling goofily. He doesn't care if people can see him; they can mind their own business.
Brendon's unease lessens when Spencer's tone is just as he expects it to be as he answers, "Yeah, me too."
******
As the bus gets closer to the hub, Brendon starts to feel antsy. He can't wait to tell Jon some of the woman's stories; he has a feeling Jon would love to hear them. Maybe next time Jon can come with him. And he can tease Ryan, saying that this planet would be perfect for him, almost no computers at all for him to break. A smile seems to be stuck on his face as he leaves the bus, but his expression clouds when he approaches the Exchange Center and it's pitch dark. He approaches the door, unsure, and sees that there are posted hours. He does the quick translation from Ship Time to Planet Time and realizes he's just over an hour too late. Sighing, he pulls out his device and sends a quick message to Spencer.
headed over now. got some bad news.
Brendon keeps his device out in his hand as he walks back, but finally puts it away when, after a while, Spencer doesn't answer. He finds the bar much more easily than he found anything else today, recognizing the familiar symbols and feeling the familiarity wash over him.
He sees Spencer immediately, and smiles without even meaning to. He's at the bar talking to Gabe, who seems remarkably sober, nodding at Spencer solemnly. Brendon doesn't care what he's interrupting though, just makes a beeline for Spencer and hugs him right away.
Gabe laughs, not unkindly, but Brendon frowns a bit when Spencer keeps his back straight, his arms around Brendon more of a gesture than anything natural.
"I'll talk to you later, man," Gabe says to Spencer, then to Brendon, "and it's good to see you too, Brendon."
Brendon doesn't respond; he's too busy trying to get Spencer to look at him. "What's wrong?"
"What's the bad news?" Spencer asks, tone clipped.
"Oh, it's not--" Brendon cuts himself off, seeing the harsh look in Spencer's eyes. "Just that we need to stay on planet tonight. The Exchange Center was closed by the time I got back, and I've got to stop by tomorrow before we can leave." Spencer seems more closed off at that, and Brendon's stomach feels funny. "Is that a problem?" he asks, worried.
Spencer sighs dramatically, and Brendon would be a little annoyed at that if he wasn't sure that he really screwed up this time. "I'll deliver the message," he says, walking away before Brendon can even think to ask what the problem is.
The bartender walks up then, asking Brendon if he wants anything, and Brendon casts one look out for Spencer (who is nowhere to be seen) before sighing and saying yes, he'll have a beer.
William approaches him before too long, and Brendon is grateful that William - also remarkably sober, weird - seems to want to carry most of the conversation. He smiles and nods in all the right places as William rambles about interplanetary policy, even offering his own opinion here and there.
"You okay, kid?" William finally asks, and Brendon wants to laugh at someone like William calling him 'kid.' William has a year on him, maybe two.
"It's been a long day," Brendon admits, surveying the crowd one more time and not seeing Spencer anywhere.
William nods as if he feels Brendon's pain, and then offers to go find Jon for him.
"That would be great, actually. Do you know where he is?"
William nods conspiratorially, wrapping his fingers around Brendon's wrist and leading him toward the back of the bar. Brendon is surprised when they approach a doorway - he definitely hadn't noticed that before - and through the doorway, he finds Jon and Ryan, along with about 6 others, sitting in a circle and, apparently, smoking up.
"Brendon," Jon says warmly, shifting closer to Ryan, who reaches for him instantly, and beckoning him over to sit in the space he's now freed. Brendon pauses, wondering if that's such a good idea but realizing there's nowhere else for him to be right now.
"We ran out," Jon tells Brendon as soon as he sits down, frowning slightly.
"I think maybe you got enough anyway," Brendon says, patting his arm consolingly.
"No," Jon says, smiling, "I mean, you didn't get any."
"Oh," Brendon laughs. "I think just being with you is gonna be enough for me."
Jon smiles like Brendon just gave him a compliment and pulls him into a sideways hug.
"Hi, Brendon," Ryan mumbles, favoring him with a content smile from Jon's other side. "How'd your delivery go?"
Brendon frowns a bit. "Well, I actually need to stay overnight and finish the transaction. At least, I think we're staying..."
Ryan nods like he understands, then turns to Sisky to pick up a conversation that Brendon apparently missed the first part of.
Brendon glances back at Jon to find him watching Ryan fondly. He smiles to himself, feeling happy for them, but then he feels a pang as he remembers Spencer's pissed off look.
The feeling only gets worse when Jon turns back to him, asking, "So, where's Spencer?"
"I'm... not sure. I think I messed up again," he admits. He feels unsettled in his skin and the worst part is that he doesn't know why Spencer's angry.
Jon stares at Brendon with this tiny, adorable frown, and Brendon doesn't want to feel sad anymore. "You worry too much," Jon tells him, renewing the hug and, after a few seconds of sitting there comfortably, suggesting that they all go down the road to a diner he saw.
He's met with unanimous agreement from the rest of the room, and when Brendon tries to decline, Ryan joins Jon in pulling him along anyway.
Jon promises to buy Brendon pancakes, and later, after a couple bites of these pancakes, Brendon is starting to feel relaxed and happy again. He tells some of his stories about the family he met, and as expected, Jon loves them immediately. Ryan even agrees that he'd like to meet them, next time.
Even when Jon steals some of Brendon's pancakes, and even when Jon and Ryan decide the next two minutes are Make-Out Time, Brendon can't help but smile. He has to force himself not to watch them kiss, but he's used to ignoring that particular feeling. He's reflecting on just how lucky he is to have these guys when a shadow falls over their table.
Spencer is standing there, arms crossed. "Can I talk to you?"
"Hey, Spencer Smith," Jon says, pulling away from Ryan but not enough to make much of a difference. "Join us."
"I just came to talk to Brendon," Spencer says, and Jon's face does this thing like he's not sure whether to be confused or annoyed or just let it go.
"Just tell me what I did wrong," Brendon says, unable to wait any longer. "If we can't wait until tomorrow, fine, just. I don't know, take it out of my paycheck."
"It's not about the wait, Brendon," Spencer says, exasperated like he's had enough. Brendon starts to feel indignant, but he doesn't argue. "You can't just accept it when people refuse to pay you the right way! You do realize what they did to you, don't you?"
Brendon stares at Spencer, who is trying to keep his voice down, but every word is still pointed enough to feel like a slap to Brendon. Slowly, Brendon shakes his head. He's trying not to get angry, but he doesn't like to be talked down to.
Spencer sighs. "They gave you fake money, and they kept you around long enough that you wouldn't discover the counterfeit until tomorrow, when they assume we'll have to leave, whether the transaction was complete or not."
"If you felt this way," Brendon begins, voice controlled, "why didn't you mention it on the phone when I first called you?"
"Because I thought you were avoiding me," Spencer snaps, glancing over at Jon and Ryan, who do a very bad job of pretending they weren't listening.
Brendon is confused. "Why would I be avoiding you?"
"Look, it doesn't matter. The point is that you got scammed, okay? You need to do better next time."
Brendon knows he's supposed to just accept that, because Spencer's his boss, but he can't help being annoyed. "If you had mentioned this before, I could have gone back. Hell, I can go back tomorrow, they're not going anywhere."
"We don't have time for you to spend all day over there again," Spencer says. "You can go to the Exchange Center when it opens, and when they tell you they can't help you, we're just gonna have to go." Brendon's heart speeds up and he's about to snap something back, but Spencer suddenly stands up, cutting him off. "I'm going back to the ship," he says, stomping off before anyone can respond.
Brendon stares after him, anger making him mutter things under his breath, but he's not about to chase after him.
They get the check right then, and Brendon scowls at the machine even as Jon signs for the charge. Why does everything have to be computers, anyway? That man and woman, they had been nothing but kind to him, and they lived every day without computers. Spencer was wrong, he had to be. Brendon couldn't wait to shove it in his face.
Jon and Ryan stay quiet as they walk back to the ship together, and Brendon gradually begins to calm down. By the time he gets back to his room, his anger is beginning to fade away, and sadness is taking its place. As much as it sucks to admit it, he knows he's gonna have trouble sleeping without Spencer there. He leaves his door open, collapsing on the bed and staring at the ceiling. Maybe if he went over and apologized, Spencer would let it go. He thinks through that for a while, but he can't bring himself to do it. He feels like he owes it to the family to wait, only to accuse them if something truly goes wrong.
There is a knock on Brendon's door, but Brendon doesn't much feel like sitting up. "Come in," he says to the ceiling.
Ryan walks up, stopping just at the edge of Brendon's vision. "What time does the Exchange Center open?" he asks.
Brendon huffs an annoyed breath. He'd heard the quiet murmur of Ryan's voice as he talked to Spencer, but he is definitely not in the mood to hear the riot act from Ryan now, too. "10 o'clock ship time," he answers. "Don't worry, we should be able to leave shortly after."
"They won't leave until we're both back on the ship," Ryan says firmly, sitting down on the edge of Brendon's bed.
Brendon sits up at that, staring at the back of Ryan's head. "We?"
"I'm going with you," Ryan says, not making it a question. His tone stops Brendon from making a comment about not needing a babysitter; he sounds like he's a little bit angry, too.
"You don't have to--"
"Be ready by quarter of," Ryan says, cutting him off. "I'll see you in the morning."
Ryan shuts the door behind him, and Brendon thinks maybe he will be able to sleep.
******
There's a short line at the Exchange Center when they get there, and Brendon can't help fidgeting as they wait.
"What do we do if it's fake?" Brendon says, a new thought coming into his head. "They're not going to arrest us, are they?" He stares at the desk with frightened eyes, wondering if getting arrested this far away from Earth could still get his picture sent all the way back.
Ryan reaches for Brendon's hand and squeezes it, bringing Brendon back into the moment. "They're not going to arrest us," Ryan promises.
"How can you be sure?" Brendon asks quietly, but he realizes that Ryan's probably right.
Ryan rolls his eyes and tugs Brendon forward as the line moves, but he doesn't drop his hand. Brendon is secretly grateful that he has Ryan here, because even if it all backfires, at least he'll have someone to back him up.
When they walk up to the desk and the privacy filters go up, Brendon suddenly blanks. Ryan has to say, "Give her the money, Brendon," and then he nearly falls over trying to get it out of his pocket.
"Sorry," he mumbles, handing it over. She smiles politely and begins to count the pieces of paper. Brendon wonders if, even if it is real, they might have short-changed him. He didn't even try to count it.
"And the account number?" she asks, looking to Ryan, who answers when Brendon's mind remains blank.
"And is there anything else I can help you with today?" she asks, and Brendon just blinks at her, feeling like an idiot.
"That's all, thanks," Ryan says, squeezing Brendon's hand, this time in slight admonishment.
"Thanks," Brendon calls even as Ryan leads him away. "Was that really all?" he asks Ryan as they head back outside.
"Brendon," Ryan says, examining the receipt.
"What?" Brendon says, already setting himself up for disappointment.
"They overpaid you by twenty percent," Ryan says, handing Brendon his receipt.
"What? No way, they shouldn't spend all that money on me." Sure enough, Ryan's right. Brendon's been tipped plenty, but never more than ten percent, and even that was only the one time, on a very small order. "This is ridiculous. I have to thank them!"
Ryan smiles, probably reflecting the huge smile on Brendon's face. "Will they get a message if you send it to them?"
Brendon pouts a bit, because no, probably not. "Well," he rethinks, "maybe. They said they were gonna order from us again, so maybe when that happens, they'll get my message?"
"Perfect," Ryan says before going quiet as they board the ship again. Brendon bites his lip, wondering what he should tell Spencer. As his subordinate, he should report that the transaction is complete, but last night's thought of rubbing it in Spencer's face has lost its glamor today.
"I'll let Spencer know that we're ready to take off," Ryan says, and Brendon knows it's an offer more than a statement.
"Yeah, I think I'm gonna get some more sleep," he says, hoping it sounds like thank you.
Ryan slides his hand around Brendon's one more time, squeezing slightly before letting go, and Brendon's sure it means you're welcome.
******
Part Five
At their next stop, Brendon is looking forward to helping out with the deliveries. Ever since he and Spencer started hooking up, Brendon feels like he never gets to spend time with Jon, which is just unacceptable. What Brendon doesn't expect is to find Jon dressed and ready to go as he stumbles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and yawning, in search of breakfast.
"Since when are you a morning person?" Brendon mumbles as he reaches into the cabinet.
Jon shrugs. "Just looking forward to today, I guess."
Brendon smiles to himself at that. Jon probably doesn't mean hanging out with him, but... well, what else could he mean? Deliveries are never that exciting - well, unless you get bottles thrown at you, but that's not the good sort of exciting. "Well, why don't I grab something I can eat on the way so that we can get going?"
Jon smiles and wraps Brendon up in a huge hug. "No hurry, dude. Our pickup time isn't gonna change."
Brendon hums and allows himself to lean against Jon. He can usually sense when Jon enters a room because even without listening, his thoughts give off a serene vibe. It's so comforting.
"Waking up is suggested, though," Jon murmurs right up against Brendon's neck so that Brendon can feel the words vibrating.
"Five more minutes," he teases, languishing in the hug for a few more seconds before convincing himself to pull away.
Even after Jon's assurance, Brendon still feels the need to rush through breakfast, and he's just finishing up when Spencer stumbles into the kitchen. He blinks at the two of them for a moment, looks behind himself into the common area, then back at them.
"Yeah, yeah. We're up early," Brendon quips, shooting Spencer a fond smile.
"I'm just wondering why today is opposite day," Spencer says. Despite his talk, he's obviously more ready for the day than Brendon, who hasn't bothered to change into his usual delivery clothes. As Spencer settles in the seat next to Brendon, he presses one lingering kiss against Brendon's lips.
Brendon pulls away with the slight taste of Spencer's mouthwash on his lips, only to notice that Spencer is looking at Jon instead of back at him. What's Jon so giddy about? Spencer asks, turning to his breakfast.
He says it's just a good mood, Brendon replies. He carefully puts away all of his dishes as he contemplates the matter. Think there's something up?
"What's with the huge smile, Walker?" Spencer asks, presumably to dig deeper.
"I dunno," Jon says unconvincingly. "Ever just wake up and know that you're gonna have a good day?"
Spencer shrugs. "Sure, I guess." To Brendon, he says, Could be something. Nothing bad though.
"C'mon," Brendon says to Jon. "Let's go start that good day."
The rest of the day passes in a happy blur, and Brendon has a bounce in his step by the time all the work is done. He's pretty sure Jon's good mood is contagious.
"D'you mind if we go back to the ship?" Jon asks as they head out after their last delivery.
"Fine with me," Brendon says, shrugging. "Why? Don't feel like going to the bar tonight?"
"Oh, no. I just wanna change before heading out."
This confuses Brendon, because Jon is never one to care about what he's wearing, especially to the bar, but he doesn't argue.
He figures that maybe Jon is onto something though, and since he's there, he might as well change too. He finds a red button-up that he knows Spencer likes on him and changes out his work shirt for it. He goes back out to wait for Jon, and then blinks in surprise when Jon comes out of his room.
"Um," he says.
Jon looks a bit sheepish, but he doesn't actually respond. He's gonna make Brendon say it.
"Is there a reason you came all the way back just to change into a shirt with a huge stain on it?"
"It's good luck," Jon says automatically, looking past Brendon and heading for the elevator. Brendon isn't sure if he believes in things being good luck, but he's in favor of anything that makes Jon smile so much.
"Whatever you say, man," Brendon answers with a smile. "Hey, isn't this the same bar you got falling-down drunk at last time?"
Jon actually giggles. Brendon stares at him in wonder, unsure exactly what's gotten into him. "Yeah, I was a little confused about things last time we were here. Sorry if I did anything weird that night? I don't exactly remember the details."
Brendon shakes his head, laughing to himself. "You are a wonder, Jon Walker."
"I try to keep the mystery alive," Jon quips, pulling Brendon into a side hug. "I promise not to get falling-down drunk tonight, even if things aren't as awesome as I hope they'll be."
Now Brendon knows there's something bigger going on, but he doesn't have it in him to pry. "That was a while ago anyway," Brendon says. "Now you've got your bestest best friend - and I'm a lot better than 5 shots of Jack, right?"
A smile spreads over Jon's face, slow and sure, and Brendon swears that Jon gives him a once-over briefly before making eye contact again. That and the way Jon mumbles, "Of course," make Brendon swallow and look away.
The moment blows over, though, and they walk to the bar with friendly conversation. Jon asks how things are with Spencer, and Brendon tries not to get too giddy or give out what Spencer insists is private information. He's just bad at filtering, okay? It's not a big deal anyway, it's just Jon, and Jon doesn't seem uncomfortable hearing about every detail of Brendon's relationship.
Once they get to the bar, Brendon decides he's not gonna abandon Ryan and Jon this time. Tonight, they can all hang out together.
"It's about time you two got here," Ryan complains, approaching them almost as soon as they get inside. "What did--" He cuts himself off, eyes trained on the obvious stain on Jon's shirt. "Jon. I thought you told me you were gonna clean that shirt."
"I tried," Jon says, but the shit-eating grin on his face says otherwise. "It just wouldn't cooperate."
Ryan heaves a put-upon sigh and reaches for Jon's hand. "Come on, I can fix this," he says, pulling Jon toward the bathrooms. "Spencer's in one of the booths!" he shouts at Brendon, waving in a vague right-hand direction.
"See ya, Bren!" Jon says with that same excited tone. Brendon isn't sure what just happened, but he has a feeling Jon might have maybe planned it. He shrugs and goes to find Spencer.
"So the weirdest thing just happened," he says as soon as he's within shouting distance of Spencer. "Oh! Sorry," he adds when he sees Pete sitting opposite Spencer, obviously mid-sentence.
Pete is completely oblivious to Brendon's interruption, though, and keeps on talking with wild gestures. Brendon has no idea what he's talking about and quickly loses interest. At the bar, he meets up with Patrick, who engages him in conversation about the quality of the old music that never gets played anymore.
"It's just, there's so much good stuff from over a century ago, but how can you convince people to listen when they can't even imagine being alive back then?"
Brendon nods enthusiastically. "And if you listen to stuff from a long time ago, it's like so much new music since then is a bad copy of it."
"Exactly!" Patrick says emphatically, gesturing wildly. "There are only so many combinations of notes, I guess, but the quality of music was just so much higher back in the day. Quality!"
Brendon smiles when it dawns on him that Patrick is already pretty tipsy. The bartender asks him then if he wants anything to drink. Brendon looks back at Spencer, who doesn't have anything, and decides to pass for tonight. Maybe Spencer has other plans.
"Let's go break up the business talk," Patrick mumbles, grabbing Brendon by the arm and leading him back to Spencer and Pete's booth.
Patrick slides effortlessly into the space beside Pete, who pulls Patrick in instantly. Brendon can't help but pout when he looks at them, especially when Spencer continues his statement and completely ignores Brendon even as he sits unnaturally close to Spencer on the bench.
Patrick joins in on the conversation Pete and Spencer already started, and Brendon still has no idea what they're talking about. He sends the confusion he feels over to Spencer, who places his hand on Brendon's knee - some acknowledgment, at least - and smiles at him. He doesn't answer or explain, though.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Brendon finally says when Pete and Patrick pause to speak to each other.
"Okay. Hey," Spencer says, grabbing for Brendon's hand and pulling him down again. He pulls Brendon into a kiss, slow and sweet but still too brief for Brendon's taste. He half-expects Pete to be staring or making some scene about them, but when he looks, Pete is still completely engrossed in conversation with Patrick. Huh.
He pushes himself out of the booth to head for the bathroom, but he gets stopped briefly a couple of times saying hello to friends. When he does reach the door to the men's room, he's still smiling his polite smile from saying hi to William, and that's when he sees them.
Brendon takes in everything at once because he's not sure what to focus on first. There's Jon, shirtless, pushed up against the sink by Ryan, and their mouths are connected like it's the end of the world. There's Jon's hands, gripping Ryan's hips, and Ryan's hands, sliding down to the button of Jon's jeans even as Brendon blinks in surprise. There's Jon's lucky shirt, forgotten in the sink, and above all else there are the muffled noises as they make out that Brendon will surely have stuck in his head for days.
Brendon is able to enjoy the scene for 10, maybe 15 seconds before his face heats up, and he immediately feels guilty for watching when they obviously don't know he's there. He clears his throat loudly and says, "Not that I'm not cheering for you guys, but uh, you might wanna lock the door. It might not be me next time."
At first, they seem unperturbed by Brendon's presence, but they pull away right as Brendon finishes his last statement. They stare at each other with a look so intense that Brendon can practically feel it, and then almost in unison, they turn to him with that same look in their eyes. Brendon swallows, taking in Jon's dark eyes and swollen lips, then the same wrecked look on Ryan that he's seen once before. "Just sayin'," he says weakly, then pushes his way back out of the bathroom. He leans against the wall there for a brief moment, trying to knock himself out of it and breathe like a normal person.
When he's satisfied that he no longer looks like he's just been ravished (and Spencer always teases him about looking that way before he even touches him), he walks back to the main part of the bar to find Spencer. He doesn't find him at the booth, where Pete and Patrick are now deep in conversation with each other.
"There you are," he hears Spencer say from behind him, and then Spencer surprises him by pulling him onto the dance floor.
"Hi," Brendon says as soon as he faces Spencer, and he decides not to waste any of this nervous energy. He presses obscenely close to Spencer, who makes a surprised, then happy noise at the attention while they dance. "I missed you," he whispers millimeters away from Spencer's mouth, allowing Spencer to close the distance.
He does close the distance, humming his agreement into Brendon's mouth as they move to the beat of the song. "I could've used you there today," Spencer says when they break to catch their breath. "Ryan was bitching about Jon all day. I never really figured out what the problem was there."
"They're hooking up in the bathroom right now," Brendon explains before pushing his hips forward and pulling Spencer toward him simultaneously.
"What?" Spencer says, completely surprised, but then cuts off the end of his question with a not-quite-concealed moan as Brendon moves against him.
"Yeah," Brendon says, a little breathless himself, "I pretty much walked in on them. Hopefully they locked the door this time, but I have no idea with those two."
"Are you serious?" Spencer asks, seeming concerned even though his hands keep pulling insistently on Brendon's hips.
Brendon nods, biting his lip as Spencer grinds against him. The song stops way too abruptly and is replaced by something slow and torturous. "We should go back to the ship," Brendon suggests.
Spencer nods, and Brendon is happy to note that he's not the only one breathing heavily.
The crisp air outside is sobering; they weren't even drinking, but it's still the same feeling. Brendon is satisfied to cling to Spencer's hand and wait until they get back to the confines of the ship to jump his bones.
"I can't believe he didn't tell me," Spencer mutters, mostly to himself.
Brendon makes a sympathetic noise and squeezes Spencer's hand. "Jon didn't say anything to me," he points out, for what it's worth.
"I should have known. If I'd been paying more attention..."
Brendon doesn't respond. He knows they've both been ignoring Ryan and Jon more since they got together. He doesn't want to break up, but he would like it if they could hang out as a group more often. He gives Spencer the silence he needs until the get into the ship, across the cargo deck, into and out of the elevator, into his room.
As if on cue, Spencer shakes his head and smiles slyly at Brendon. "I hope you plan to make good on those promises your hips were making."
Brendon makes a face at the cheesiness of that, especially coming from Spencer. "That sounds like something I would say," Brendon points out with a laugh.
Spencer pauses, seeming to reflect on his words, and then makes a horrified face. "It does."
"Maybe we have been spending too much time together," Brendon says, and they're both laughing.
As their laughter dies out, Spencer schools his features into a serious expression. "We'll do better from now on," he says confidently.
Brendon shrugs. "Unless... I mean, if this is more than a one-time thing, they might start shutting us out like we did to them," he points out.
Spencer nods, thinking it over. "I guess we kinda deserve that."
Brendon rolls his eyes and pulls at Spencer's shirt. "Now what was that thing about my hips?"
******
Brendon doesn't see Jon the next day until lunchtime. Spencer is off working with the captain, and Brendon is killing some time by playing a game on the kitchen's monitor. He doesn't hear Jon coming but he perks up instantly when he hears him murmur, "G'morning," and open the cabinet.
Brendon whirls around, giving Jon his biggest smile and pouncing on him with a hug. "Jon Walker," he says when he sees Jon's triumphant grin, "you have to tell me everything."
Jon raises his eyebrows. "Everything?"
"Yes," Brendon insists. "I can't believe that lucky shirt thing worked!"
Jon ducks his head and laughs. "Well I wasn't actually wearing the shirt the whole time, you know."
"Did you guys hook up in the bathroom?" Brendon asks eagerly.
"What?" Jon laughs harder, eyes sparkling. "Spencer won't let you give me details, why shouldn't I do the same to you?"
"Aw, c'mon, I just wanna know. Did you lock the door after I left?"
Jon studies Brendon's expression for a few seconds, and Brendon tries not to feel self-conscious. Finally, he says, "There wasn't a lock on the door." He pauses again, but Brendon waits patiently. Well, as patiently as he can. "So Ryan decided I should lean up against it to keep it shut."
Brendon's mouth falls open of its own accord. He hadn't really expected Jon to give any details, but the instant image springs up fully formed in his mind. Jon smirks at him, and Brendon is seconds away from asking more when the door to the bathroom slides open and Ryan walks out, shirtless and still soaking wet. Ryan doesn't look at either of them, even though they're both watching, but instead walks straight into his room.
"I'll tell you the rest later," Jon says solemnly, winking.
"Are you two...?" Brendon begins quietly, not sure how to end the sentence without sounding like an idiot.
"Yeah, sort of," Jon says. "We're not completely exclusive, but--"
"Why not?" Brendon asks.
Jon shrugs and meets Brendon's gaze as he says, "We're just open to other things, y'know?"
Brendon doesn't know why that makes him want to squirm, but it does. "Sure, I guess."
A million more questions come to Brendon's mind, but he refrains from asking them now that Ryan could walk in at any moment. The permission that Jon seems to have given him is exciting, and he definitely intends to use it in the future.
******
Time passes. Jon does actually share some details with Brendon, but he starts to ask for details in return. Brendon's pretty sure he's allowed to confide in his best friend, and he's definitely sure he can trust Jon, but he still occasionally feels guilty. And if he dwells on the details Jon chooses to share a little too much in his free time, well, that's nobody's business but his own.
Remarkably, the four of them do find more time to hang out after Jon and Ryan start hooking up regularly. It's almost as if Brendon and Spencer are on the same schedule as Jon and Ryan, and whenever Brendon and Spencer decide to take some time for themselves, so do Jon and Ryan. What Brendon doesn't get is why, other than that first accidental moment in the bathroom, he's never seen Jon and Ryan touch each other more than casually, not even a kiss. He knows that Jon is comfortable with kissing, anywhere and anytime, and he expected that Ryan would be in favor of kissing just as much. When he realizes this argument is maybe just wishful thinking on his part, though, he decides not to bring it up to Jon.
Brendon keeps working with Spencer on his ability, but he's got to admit that he's mostly to blame when their attempts to work turn into makeout sessions and sometimes more than that. Despite all the progress he's made, Spencer's still not very good with his control during sex, and he sometimes sends messages to Brendon. Brendon knows this is normal, because he'd done it to his fair share of classmates when he was young and new at this. They weren't all so understanding. Lucky for Spencer, Brendon gets off on the unbidden thoughts that Spencer has to let him hear, and it's never a problem.
One night, while Spencer is riding Brendon, the message that suddenly slides into Brendon's mind is I bet Jon and Ryan look fucking amazing like this and there's even a mental image that makes Brendon throw his head back and moan, twisting his hand around his erection and coming hard, his orgasm slamming into him out of nowhere. Spencer looks at him, shocked for a second, and as the waves of Brendon's orgasm fade off pleasantly, he feels himself clench around Spencer and Spencer pushes in hard and comes, babbling Brendon's name.
A few minutes later, Brendon's heart is still pounding, but he's happy to lay there and let it keep right on. "Brendon," Spencer begins, sounding guilty.
"Spencer," Brendon says, impressed. Spencer blinks at him. "You sent a picture! Do you know how long it took me to figure that out when I was in school?"
"Two weeks?" Spencer asks, grinning.
"Three," Brendon jokes with a laugh, hitting Spencer playfully. "You give me too much credit."
"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," Spencer says, mockingly serious. "It's not like you were able to hack into our computer system in a few days or anything."
Brendon feels a jolt of paranoia, guilt, and fear all rolled up into one moment. He tries not to let it show, but it happens so suddenly that he can't keep straight the expression he's supposed to have right now.
"What? What's wrong?" Spencer asks, concerned. He pushes Brendon's hair off his forehead carefully, looking into Brendon's eyes.
"Nothing, just. A bad memory," Brendon says. Spencer shifts closer and presses his lips to Brendon's in a simple, sweet kiss. "Let's just go to sleep."
Spencer complies easily enough, and Brendon counts down from 1024 in binary to calm his mind before falling asleep. It helps, but not enough.
******
Brendon wakes up the next morning way too early. He stares at the ceiling and listens to Spencer's even breathing, hoping it will help him calm down. After a few minutes, though, he has to admit he's wide awake. His dreams were some mix of paranoia about being caught and about today's shipment, which will be the first one he delivers alone.
Sighing, he gives up on sleeping any longer and pushes out of bed. Spencer makes a sad face in his sleep when Brendon leaves his side, and Brendon smiles to himself as he sees it. He takes his time in the shower, letting the steady spray calm him down and reminding himself that he's done plenty of shipments now to handle one simple one on his own. As he sits alone in the kitchen, eating breakfast, he decides to leave early and get the delivery over with. The schedule didn't give a specific time, just said any time today, and this way he might be able to meet up with the guys early.
Ryan stumbles into the kitchen, hair sticking up and eyes barely open, just as Brendon is heading out. "Hey," Brendon says, "I'm gonna go make my delivery early. Could you let Spencer know for me?"
Ryan blinks at him for a few seconds, and Brendon wonders momentarily if he should repeat the question. But then Ryan says, "Sure." Brendon waits, but Ryan doesn't follow it up with anything, so he turns toward the elevator. "Hey, Brendon?"
"Yeah," Brendon says, voice tilting up at the end to make it a question.
"Just, good luck," Ryan says, mouth quirked up in a small smile.
Brendon instantly flashes back to his first delivery in his mind. The memory is confusing, as it was good and bad - mostly good, to be honest - but now he's not sure if he's allowed to see it that way. "Thanks," he says to Ryan, ignoring the memory.
He feels guilty opening the hatch, because it's bound to wake everyone up. But he gets the hover board out without incident and makes sure the hatch is secure before heading out.
The bus hub isn't too far of a walk, but when Brendon gets there, the latest bus is already pulling away. Sighing, he reads the schedule and sees that he's got another 45 minutes to wait. He goes to buy his ticket, guessing that's what he gets for leaving early. He connects to the hub's network on his device and settles in to watch a movie. It's just starting to get interesting when his ticket buzzes to call him for boarding, so he pauses it and heads outside.
For several awkward moments, Brendon attempts to load his delivery into the storage space. Passengers give him dirty looks, and he tries to avoid eye contact. If he could just get the hover board to cooperate and lower a fraction of a centimeter--
"Need some help with that, dear?" a kind female voice says to him from behind.
"Yes, that would be great, thank you."
She reaches up and pulls the hover board down, then shoves it into the space easily. Brendon smiles and thanks her again, supposing that's what he gets for trying to do it strictly with computers.
"I take it you're just visiting," she says, taking in his delivery clothes. They may not be universally recognized as delivery clothes, but they're unique enough on this planet to be recognized as alien.
"Yes, ma'am," he says. "Just here to make a delivery. I have a translating device that allows you to hear my words in your dialect and vice versa." On the bus, he takes a seat across from her in case she wants to continue their conversation. He knows she won't ask his name or what's he's delivering, but he still feels nervous. Working at the bar had been easy, with a specific script he could use on people and the security of working for an underground business. Now he has to judge for himself whether people are trustworthy, and on new planets with their own social norms, it's just too hard to tell sometimes.
Once the bus starts moving and she still hasn't spoken to him again, he guesses it wouldn't be rude to continue watching his movie. Three hours pass, and when he looks up from his screen, most of the passengers are gone. He pulls out his ticket to track how much longer he's got - about 20 minutes - and realizes that the woman is still sitting across from him, reading a physical copy of a book. Brendon tries to be subtle about trying to read the title - he's not used to being able to find out what people are reading just by observation, people are so private - but he fails spectacularly. She laughs at him and holds the book up straight so that he can read the title.
"Good Omens," Brendon reads. "What's that about?"
She smirks at him, shaking her head. "Just an unlikely group of people trying to save the world," she explains sweetly, looking for all her sincerity like there's a joke he's missing out on. "You're going pretty far out for your delivery," she says, setting her book aside.
"Yeah, I guess so. It's a pretty simple one, shouldn't take long, but we value face-to-face transactions in our company."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate that," she says as the bus stops, and just like that she grabs her book and slips out of the door. It's none of his business, but Brendon wishes he'd asked for her name. He has a feeling she would have told him.
The remaining 15 minutes seem to drag on, and Brendon has a much easier time getting his box out of the storage space than he had getting it in. He nods at the driver to signal that he has everything he needs, and blinks in surprise when the driver smiles and waves at him before driving off.
Brendon's still feeling good from the kindness of those two strangers when he pulls out his device and discovers that the connection he was feeding off of inside the bus is completely gone. His good mood fades almost instantly as he pulls up the map and the device never gets past the "Connecting..." page.
"No, no, no," Brendon whispers, trying to find a possible private network he can hack into. After several minutes of standing on the curb, frantically stabbing at his mobile device, he has to admit that it's not going to work.
He can't believe that there's not a single working network within his range. Their security must just be insanely good, keeping all other devices from leeching. He pauses to take a deep breath, then works hard to recall the map as he saw it before leaving the ship.
He wanders the streets for a while, looking for anything that he might recognize as being nearby, but after nearly an hour, he's so frustrated he wants to cry. He can't call anyone, he can't look at a map, and he can't even put out a distress signal. He turns around, wondering if he can even remember how to get back.
He's interrupted from this frantic mindset suddenly by a shout from the house behind him. He turns and discovers a young boy sitting on the ground next to the house, playing. The boy shouts again, and as Brendon watches, his father comes outside to check on him. Brendon feels a surge of hope, calling, "Excuse me?"
The father turns, surprised at first, then favors with Brendon a welcoming look. "Hello young man, can I help you?"
"I hope so. I'm afraid I'm very lost. I can't get a map up on my mobile device, and I'm trying to make a delivery," Brendon explains, gesturing at the hover board behind him.
"Where are you headed?" the man asks.
"2948 West Jales," Brendon says, his voice lilting up at the end to make it half a question.
"Oh, you've almost got it," the man assures him. "Just keep going about 5 blocks that way, then left for 3 blocks, and you'll see Jales."
Brendon thinks "almost got it" is a little generous, since he was heading in the wrong direction, but still. "Thank you so much."
"It's no trouble at all," the man says kindly, turning then to his son to help him up.
When Brendon gets to Jales, he discovers his problem -- the street changed names just a block from where he passed through earlier. He sighs in relief when he approaches the door to the correct house, and he checks the number twice before knocking.
An elderly woman answers the door, smiling warmly at Brendon. "You must be our delivery person."
"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry for the late hour, but I got a little lost."
A man approaches the doorway, smiling at Brendon in that same welcoming way. It's a bit strange for Brendon, with all these strangers being so nice to him. As a delivery boy, he's not used to much of a response from the typical stranger. Mostly people's gaze flicks over and away from him, and if they speak to him, it's only to ask for something from him. The man looks apologetic as he says, "That's right, your network devices don't work way out here. We're sorry about that," he says, looking to his wife. "I suppose we should have let you know that when we placed our order."
"It's no trouble," Brendon says politely, waving it off. He puts on his best delivery boy smile and asks them to please sign here to transfer their funds.
"Nonsense," the husband says, clapping a hand on Brendon's shoulder and leading him inside. "You look like you need a good meal, and we just so happen to have one sitting in the kitchen."
"Oh, I really don't want to impose--"
"Sit and eat," the woman admonishes, not unkindly. She reminds Brendon of his grandmother, fierce but still sweet. Aptly, his stomach rumbles right at that moment, so he is forced to laugh and accept their offer.
The meal is amazing, and the woman joins Brendon in praising the desert that her husband made. By the time Brendon eats his last bite, he feels full and content, and he can't stop thanking the two of them.
"Now, if you'll just sign? I guess the transaction won't go through until I get back on the bus, but--"
"Oh, no need to worry about that," the woman says. "We'll pay you with paper."
Brendon blinks at her for a moment. Paper?
"Paper money," the man clarifies, amused. "You'll just take it to the financial transfer center and they'll set you right up. We don't have an electronic account."
Electronic. The word is familiar, but it seems so... old. "I'm... not sure I know how all of that works," he says, hesitant.
"Oh, it's very simple," the woman says as she hands over a bundle of, sure enough, paper money. "I assume you got on the bus at the hub over in Adjunct?" At Brendon's nod, she continues, "Well, just two buildings over is the Exchange Center. They'll make the transfer for you, and you should have it in your account within the hour."
"Oh," Brendon says, unable to help himself in examining one of the pieces of paper money. "Sounds easy enough. Sorry for being so ignorant of all of this," he adds, feeling more like a fool than he has in a long time.
"Don't worry about it, son," the man says, walking with him to the door. Brendon smiles kindly back at him, feeling for once as if he's welcome, even as a random delivery boy. "We're very happy with your service. I'm sure will order from you again the next time you come around."
"That's great," Brendon says truthfully. "I'll do my best not to get lost next time."
With another round of smiles and goodbyes, Brendon pockets the stack of paper money and collapses the hover board, heading back in the direction given him to catch the bus. Luck is on his side this time, and the bus comes within five minutes of him reaching the stop.
As soon as he settles into his seat, he refreshes his device and feels a comfort and relief when it automatically connects, giving him access to the usual things. He has no new messages, which is mostly a good thing, though it seems a bit odd that no one would contact him all day. He sets the privacy volume on his seat, then settles in and calls Spencer.
The ring only sounds for a few seconds before it's cut off, and Spencer is responding with a relieved, "Brendon."
"Hi," Brendon says, a little surprised at Spencer's tone. "You sound... I dunno, like you weren't expecting me."
"You were out of contact all afternoon," Spencer says, and his voice still sounds funny.
"Yeah, there's apparently no network this far out," Brendon says, automatically keeping his voice low even though he knows the privacy settings are in effect. "I'm not sure? But I think this planet is still kind of new to the whole technology thing. The customers were really nice, older, but their stories didn't have much to do with computers."
Spencer makes a noise of assent, and Brendon can't help but feel more comfortable at the familiarness of it. "So we'll see you in a few hours?"
Brendon starts to answer 'yes,' but then he remembers the bulk of paper in his pocket. "A little longer, actually. I have to go down to the Exchange Center and finish this transaction first."
"You... what? You didn't complete the sale?"
"Not yet. I have to change over their paper money, but they assured me it was very simple."
"Oh," Spencer says. Brendon waits, but he doesn't say anything else. The silence stretches on, and finally Brendon clears his throat. "Well, the bar isn't far from the ship. We'll meet you there as soon as you're done."
Brendon still feels unsettled, like something's not right, but he doesn't know how to address it. "Okay," he says. "I'll see you soon. And..."
"Yeah?"
"Nothing. Just, I'm looking forward to seeing you," he says, smiling goofily. He doesn't care if people can see him; they can mind their own business.
Brendon's unease lessens when Spencer's tone is just as he expects it to be as he answers, "Yeah, me too."
******
As the bus gets closer to the hub, Brendon starts to feel antsy. He can't wait to tell Jon some of the woman's stories; he has a feeling Jon would love to hear them. Maybe next time Jon can come with him. And he can tease Ryan, saying that this planet would be perfect for him, almost no computers at all for him to break. A smile seems to be stuck on his face as he leaves the bus, but his expression clouds when he approaches the Exchange Center and it's pitch dark. He approaches the door, unsure, and sees that there are posted hours. He does the quick translation from Ship Time to Planet Time and realizes he's just over an hour too late. Sighing, he pulls out his device and sends a quick message to Spencer.
headed over now. got some bad news.
Brendon keeps his device out in his hand as he walks back, but finally puts it away when, after a while, Spencer doesn't answer. He finds the bar much more easily than he found anything else today, recognizing the familiar symbols and feeling the familiarity wash over him.
He sees Spencer immediately, and smiles without even meaning to. He's at the bar talking to Gabe, who seems remarkably sober, nodding at Spencer solemnly. Brendon doesn't care what he's interrupting though, just makes a beeline for Spencer and hugs him right away.
Gabe laughs, not unkindly, but Brendon frowns a bit when Spencer keeps his back straight, his arms around Brendon more of a gesture than anything natural.
"I'll talk to you later, man," Gabe says to Spencer, then to Brendon, "and it's good to see you too, Brendon."
Brendon doesn't respond; he's too busy trying to get Spencer to look at him. "What's wrong?"
"What's the bad news?" Spencer asks, tone clipped.
"Oh, it's not--" Brendon cuts himself off, seeing the harsh look in Spencer's eyes. "Just that we need to stay on planet tonight. The Exchange Center was closed by the time I got back, and I've got to stop by tomorrow before we can leave." Spencer seems more closed off at that, and Brendon's stomach feels funny. "Is that a problem?" he asks, worried.
Spencer sighs dramatically, and Brendon would be a little annoyed at that if he wasn't sure that he really screwed up this time. "I'll deliver the message," he says, walking away before Brendon can even think to ask what the problem is.
The bartender walks up then, asking Brendon if he wants anything, and Brendon casts one look out for Spencer (who is nowhere to be seen) before sighing and saying yes, he'll have a beer.
William approaches him before too long, and Brendon is grateful that William - also remarkably sober, weird - seems to want to carry most of the conversation. He smiles and nods in all the right places as William rambles about interplanetary policy, even offering his own opinion here and there.
"You okay, kid?" William finally asks, and Brendon wants to laugh at someone like William calling him 'kid.' William has a year on him, maybe two.
"It's been a long day," Brendon admits, surveying the crowd one more time and not seeing Spencer anywhere.
William nods as if he feels Brendon's pain, and then offers to go find Jon for him.
"That would be great, actually. Do you know where he is?"
William nods conspiratorially, wrapping his fingers around Brendon's wrist and leading him toward the back of the bar. Brendon is surprised when they approach a doorway - he definitely hadn't noticed that before - and through the doorway, he finds Jon and Ryan, along with about 6 others, sitting in a circle and, apparently, smoking up.
"Brendon," Jon says warmly, shifting closer to Ryan, who reaches for him instantly, and beckoning him over to sit in the space he's now freed. Brendon pauses, wondering if that's such a good idea but realizing there's nowhere else for him to be right now.
"We ran out," Jon tells Brendon as soon as he sits down, frowning slightly.
"I think maybe you got enough anyway," Brendon says, patting his arm consolingly.
"No," Jon says, smiling, "I mean, you didn't get any."
"Oh," Brendon laughs. "I think just being with you is gonna be enough for me."
Jon smiles like Brendon just gave him a compliment and pulls him into a sideways hug.
"Hi, Brendon," Ryan mumbles, favoring him with a content smile from Jon's other side. "How'd your delivery go?"
Brendon frowns a bit. "Well, I actually need to stay overnight and finish the transaction. At least, I think we're staying..."
Ryan nods like he understands, then turns to Sisky to pick up a conversation that Brendon apparently missed the first part of.
Brendon glances back at Jon to find him watching Ryan fondly. He smiles to himself, feeling happy for them, but then he feels a pang as he remembers Spencer's pissed off look.
The feeling only gets worse when Jon turns back to him, asking, "So, where's Spencer?"
"I'm... not sure. I think I messed up again," he admits. He feels unsettled in his skin and the worst part is that he doesn't know why Spencer's angry.
Jon stares at Brendon with this tiny, adorable frown, and Brendon doesn't want to feel sad anymore. "You worry too much," Jon tells him, renewing the hug and, after a few seconds of sitting there comfortably, suggesting that they all go down the road to a diner he saw.
He's met with unanimous agreement from the rest of the room, and when Brendon tries to decline, Ryan joins Jon in pulling him along anyway.
Jon promises to buy Brendon pancakes, and later, after a couple bites of these pancakes, Brendon is starting to feel relaxed and happy again. He tells some of his stories about the family he met, and as expected, Jon loves them immediately. Ryan even agrees that he'd like to meet them, next time.
Even when Jon steals some of Brendon's pancakes, and even when Jon and Ryan decide the next two minutes are Make-Out Time, Brendon can't help but smile. He has to force himself not to watch them kiss, but he's used to ignoring that particular feeling. He's reflecting on just how lucky he is to have these guys when a shadow falls over their table.
Spencer is standing there, arms crossed. "Can I talk to you?"
"Hey, Spencer Smith," Jon says, pulling away from Ryan but not enough to make much of a difference. "Join us."
"I just came to talk to Brendon," Spencer says, and Jon's face does this thing like he's not sure whether to be confused or annoyed or just let it go.
"Just tell me what I did wrong," Brendon says, unable to wait any longer. "If we can't wait until tomorrow, fine, just. I don't know, take it out of my paycheck."
"It's not about the wait, Brendon," Spencer says, exasperated like he's had enough. Brendon starts to feel indignant, but he doesn't argue. "You can't just accept it when people refuse to pay you the right way! You do realize what they did to you, don't you?"
Brendon stares at Spencer, who is trying to keep his voice down, but every word is still pointed enough to feel like a slap to Brendon. Slowly, Brendon shakes his head. He's trying not to get angry, but he doesn't like to be talked down to.
Spencer sighs. "They gave you fake money, and they kept you around long enough that you wouldn't discover the counterfeit until tomorrow, when they assume we'll have to leave, whether the transaction was complete or not."
"If you felt this way," Brendon begins, voice controlled, "why didn't you mention it on the phone when I first called you?"
"Because I thought you were avoiding me," Spencer snaps, glancing over at Jon and Ryan, who do a very bad job of pretending they weren't listening.
Brendon is confused. "Why would I be avoiding you?"
"Look, it doesn't matter. The point is that you got scammed, okay? You need to do better next time."
Brendon knows he's supposed to just accept that, because Spencer's his boss, but he can't help being annoyed. "If you had mentioned this before, I could have gone back. Hell, I can go back tomorrow, they're not going anywhere."
"We don't have time for you to spend all day over there again," Spencer says. "You can go to the Exchange Center when it opens, and when they tell you they can't help you, we're just gonna have to go." Brendon's heart speeds up and he's about to snap something back, but Spencer suddenly stands up, cutting him off. "I'm going back to the ship," he says, stomping off before anyone can respond.
Brendon stares after him, anger making him mutter things under his breath, but he's not about to chase after him.
They get the check right then, and Brendon scowls at the machine even as Jon signs for the charge. Why does everything have to be computers, anyway? That man and woman, they had been nothing but kind to him, and they lived every day without computers. Spencer was wrong, he had to be. Brendon couldn't wait to shove it in his face.
Jon and Ryan stay quiet as they walk back to the ship together, and Brendon gradually begins to calm down. By the time he gets back to his room, his anger is beginning to fade away, and sadness is taking its place. As much as it sucks to admit it, he knows he's gonna have trouble sleeping without Spencer there. He leaves his door open, collapsing on the bed and staring at the ceiling. Maybe if he went over and apologized, Spencer would let it go. He thinks through that for a while, but he can't bring himself to do it. He feels like he owes it to the family to wait, only to accuse them if something truly goes wrong.
There is a knock on Brendon's door, but Brendon doesn't much feel like sitting up. "Come in," he says to the ceiling.
Ryan walks up, stopping just at the edge of Brendon's vision. "What time does the Exchange Center open?" he asks.
Brendon huffs an annoyed breath. He'd heard the quiet murmur of Ryan's voice as he talked to Spencer, but he is definitely not in the mood to hear the riot act from Ryan now, too. "10 o'clock ship time," he answers. "Don't worry, we should be able to leave shortly after."
"They won't leave until we're both back on the ship," Ryan says firmly, sitting down on the edge of Brendon's bed.
Brendon sits up at that, staring at the back of Ryan's head. "We?"
"I'm going with you," Ryan says, not making it a question. His tone stops Brendon from making a comment about not needing a babysitter; he sounds like he's a little bit angry, too.
"You don't have to--"
"Be ready by quarter of," Ryan says, cutting him off. "I'll see you in the morning."
Ryan shuts the door behind him, and Brendon thinks maybe he will be able to sleep.
******
There's a short line at the Exchange Center when they get there, and Brendon can't help fidgeting as they wait.
"What do we do if it's fake?" Brendon says, a new thought coming into his head. "They're not going to arrest us, are they?" He stares at the desk with frightened eyes, wondering if getting arrested this far away from Earth could still get his picture sent all the way back.
Ryan reaches for Brendon's hand and squeezes it, bringing Brendon back into the moment. "They're not going to arrest us," Ryan promises.
"How can you be sure?" Brendon asks quietly, but he realizes that Ryan's probably right.
Ryan rolls his eyes and tugs Brendon forward as the line moves, but he doesn't drop his hand. Brendon is secretly grateful that he has Ryan here, because even if it all backfires, at least he'll have someone to back him up.
When they walk up to the desk and the privacy filters go up, Brendon suddenly blanks. Ryan has to say, "Give her the money, Brendon," and then he nearly falls over trying to get it out of his pocket.
"Sorry," he mumbles, handing it over. She smiles politely and begins to count the pieces of paper. Brendon wonders if, even if it is real, they might have short-changed him. He didn't even try to count it.
"And the account number?" she asks, looking to Ryan, who answers when Brendon's mind remains blank.
"And is there anything else I can help you with today?" she asks, and Brendon just blinks at her, feeling like an idiot.
"That's all, thanks," Ryan says, squeezing Brendon's hand, this time in slight admonishment.
"Thanks," Brendon calls even as Ryan leads him away. "Was that really all?" he asks Ryan as they head back outside.
"Brendon," Ryan says, examining the receipt.
"What?" Brendon says, already setting himself up for disappointment.
"They overpaid you by twenty percent," Ryan says, handing Brendon his receipt.
"What? No way, they shouldn't spend all that money on me." Sure enough, Ryan's right. Brendon's been tipped plenty, but never more than ten percent, and even that was only the one time, on a very small order. "This is ridiculous. I have to thank them!"
Ryan smiles, probably reflecting the huge smile on Brendon's face. "Will they get a message if you send it to them?"
Brendon pouts a bit, because no, probably not. "Well," he rethinks, "maybe. They said they were gonna order from us again, so maybe when that happens, they'll get my message?"
"Perfect," Ryan says before going quiet as they board the ship again. Brendon bites his lip, wondering what he should tell Spencer. As his subordinate, he should report that the transaction is complete, but last night's thought of rubbing it in Spencer's face has lost its glamor today.
"I'll let Spencer know that we're ready to take off," Ryan says, and Brendon knows it's an offer more than a statement.
"Yeah, I think I'm gonna get some more sleep," he says, hoping it sounds like thank you.
Ryan slides his hand around Brendon's one more time, squeezing slightly before letting go, and Brendon's sure it means you're welcome.
******
Part Five