schmoop_bingo: Mojito confessions
title: Mojito confessions
pairing (sorta): Joncer
pov: 3rd
rating: G
prompt: drunken confession of love
summary: It’s September 2006, Jon Walker is now 21 years old and it’s also his first birthday in Panic! at the Disco.
word count: 643
disclaimer: *hiccups* yeah,they're here with me and we just drunk an entire bottle of Absolute Vodka
A/N: for schmoop_bingo (i don't know why but i rarely write something long when i have pre-made prompts .__.)
“Joooon!” a tiny tipsy singer jumped on said person, “Happy birthday!” he shouted in his victim’s ear for the umpteenth time that day.
Jon shook his head amused and sipped his beer, “Thank you, Bren!” he shouted back, over the loud music of the place.
Brendon wandered off, looking for someone else to pester or sponge alcohol off, since he wasn’t really allowed to drink. It was Jon’s birthday, though, and they were partying in Pete’s Angels&Kings bar, so people closed both eyes and served drink after drink to Jon’s legal-but-not-enough-to-drink bandmates -Spencer and Ryan had their birthdays a couple of weeks prior, so they celebrated some more.
Jon had to say he was finally warming up for good with Brendon, Ryan and Spencer, after he’d been pleaded to join them when Brent didn’t show up for yet another gig: it was not that they hadn’t been welcoming, it was just that they’ve known each other for quite a long time and it’s always hard to accept and be accepted in an already close group.
It was an easy task to be liked by Brendon: he loved the world, he was hyper, he was enthusiastic.
With Ryan was a bit harder, but only because he had his own ways and time to warm up with people and show them so.
Spencer was a mystery: he wasn’t very talkative but his tongue could cut if necessary, he alternated the warmest smiles to the bitchest attitudes and Jon hadn’t understood yet if Spencer liked him or not -technically, he should, because he approved most of Ryan’s choices, being them best friends to the hip since they were 5.
Jon was looking right at Spencer, who was laughing maybe a bit too much and looked pretty much wasted after only two drinks; the bassist smiled in his beer and approached the group composed of Brendon, Spencer, William, Gabe and Ryland.
“Our man!” Gabe exclaimed when he spotted Jon getting closer to them and slid an arm around his shoulders.
“Geez, I feel like a smurf,” Jon said, eyeing between Gabe, William and Ryland. The group laughed.
“Welcome in the 21-years-old elite,” William saluted with his drink -he turned 21 earlier that year.
“Thanks, Bill,” Jon smiled at his old Chi-friend.
“Jon, can I talk to you a second?” Spencer slurred a bit, eyes slightly unfocused but he was trying his best not to fall asleep on the dancefloor.
“Sure. Better going outside,” Jon suggested, holding Spencer’s elbow to guide him to the back entrance.
It was pretty silent, outside, and it was quite welcome after the rather deafening music in the bar, bass line pumping into every bones.
Spencer leant against the maroon bricks of the wall, eyes closed and hand loose around his drink.
“What did you drink to be so wasted after only two drinks?” Jon chuckled.
“Oh, just a Mojito and a Kamikaze,” Spencer replied without opening his eyes.
Jon whistled, “Whoa, too much liquor for you, dude.”
Spencer waved him off.
“So, what did you want to tell me?”
The drummer turned to lean against the wall with his hip and face Jon.
“…thanks for joining our band,” he finally said.
“It’s a pleasure,” Jon beamed.
“You’re really good. And I like seeing your ass from my drumkit,” Spencer smiled tiredly.
Jon blushed.
“I know I never show it, but I’m glad you’re with us. I really really like you. You’re funny, you’re smart, you can deal with Brendon’s hyperness, Ryan’s perfectionism…and with me,” Spencer looked straight in Jon’s eyes.
“Don’t ever leave, Jon Walker,” he continued, trying not to slur, “because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
Jon looked at the young yawning drummer, at his tired yet fierce blue eyes, and smiled shyly.
“I won’t, Spencer Smith,” he assured, and the two of them returned to the party.
[if you're wondering, Kamikaze is made with vodka,Cointreau and lime]
pairing (sorta): Joncer
pov: 3rd
rating: G
prompt: drunken confession of love
summary: It’s September 2006, Jon Walker is now 21 years old and it’s also his first birthday in Panic! at the Disco.
word count: 643
disclaimer: *hiccups* yeah,they're here with me and we just drunk an entire bottle of Absolute Vodka
A/N: for schmoop_bingo (i don't know why but i rarely write something long when i have pre-made prompts .__.)
“Joooon!” a tiny tipsy singer jumped on said person, “Happy birthday!” he shouted in his victim’s ear for the umpteenth time that day.
Jon shook his head amused and sipped his beer, “Thank you, Bren!” he shouted back, over the loud music of the place.
Brendon wandered off, looking for someone else to pester or sponge alcohol off, since he wasn’t really allowed to drink. It was Jon’s birthday, though, and they were partying in Pete’s Angels&Kings bar, so people closed both eyes and served drink after drink to Jon’s legal-but-not-enough-to-drink bandmates -Spencer and Ryan had their birthdays a couple of weeks prior, so they celebrated some more.
Jon had to say he was finally warming up for good with Brendon, Ryan and Spencer, after he’d been pleaded to join them when Brent didn’t show up for yet another gig: it was not that they hadn’t been welcoming, it was just that they’ve known each other for quite a long time and it’s always hard to accept and be accepted in an already close group.
It was an easy task to be liked by Brendon: he loved the world, he was hyper, he was enthusiastic.
With Ryan was a bit harder, but only because he had his own ways and time to warm up with people and show them so.
Spencer was a mystery: he wasn’t very talkative but his tongue could cut if necessary, he alternated the warmest smiles to the bitchest attitudes and Jon hadn’t understood yet if Spencer liked him or not -technically, he should, because he approved most of Ryan’s choices, being them best friends to the hip since they were 5.
Jon was looking right at Spencer, who was laughing maybe a bit too much and looked pretty much wasted after only two drinks; the bassist smiled in his beer and approached the group composed of Brendon, Spencer, William, Gabe and Ryland.
“Our man!” Gabe exclaimed when he spotted Jon getting closer to them and slid an arm around his shoulders.
“Geez, I feel like a smurf,” Jon said, eyeing between Gabe, William and Ryland. The group laughed.
“Welcome in the 21-years-old elite,” William saluted with his drink -he turned 21 earlier that year.
“Thanks, Bill,” Jon smiled at his old Chi-friend.
“Jon, can I talk to you a second?” Spencer slurred a bit, eyes slightly unfocused but he was trying his best not to fall asleep on the dancefloor.
“Sure. Better going outside,” Jon suggested, holding Spencer’s elbow to guide him to the back entrance.
It was pretty silent, outside, and it was quite welcome after the rather deafening music in the bar, bass line pumping into every bones.
Spencer leant against the maroon bricks of the wall, eyes closed and hand loose around his drink.
“What did you drink to be so wasted after only two drinks?” Jon chuckled.
“Oh, just a Mojito and a Kamikaze,” Spencer replied without opening his eyes.
Jon whistled, “Whoa, too much liquor for you, dude.”
Spencer waved him off.
“So, what did you want to tell me?”
The drummer turned to lean against the wall with his hip and face Jon.
“…thanks for joining our band,” he finally said.
“It’s a pleasure,” Jon beamed.
“You’re really good. And I like seeing your ass from my drumkit,” Spencer smiled tiredly.
Jon blushed.
“I know I never show it, but I’m glad you’re with us. I really really like you. You’re funny, you’re smart, you can deal with Brendon’s hyperness, Ryan’s perfectionism…and with me,” Spencer looked straight in Jon’s eyes.
“Don’t ever leave, Jon Walker,” he continued, trying not to slur, “because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
Jon looked at the young yawning drummer, at his tired yet fierce blue eyes, and smiled shyly.
“I won’t, Spencer Smith,” he assured, and the two of them returned to the party.
[if you're wondering, Kamikaze is made with vodka,Cointreau and lime]