The Fickle Friendship of Fate
Reread Part One.
*
Everything is decorated in yellow and green even though they know it’s a boy. Greta talks about it happily as they all help themselves to cake and play the stomach-measuring game.
“Can I pick the name?” Brendon asks excitedly and Spencer rolls his eyes.
“It’s their kid,” he points out to Brendon, who just shrugs.
“They could want help.”
Greta smiles at the two of them as she sits down on the couch with a little difficulty. She’s a hefty seven months pregnant, and Jon is right there to help her down. She just sets a hand over her large stomach, practically glowing with happiness.
The presents are piled on the coffee table and there is cake and sandwiches on the kitchen counter. The yellow and green balloons are hitting Spencer no matter where he turns and he’s a second away from popping a few just so he can find his way to a chair.
Jon slides up beside Spencer, a hand snaking around his waist as he smiles at Greta.
“Help is always welcome,” Greta replies finally. “Bob and I were trying to come up with names but there are so many.”
“See?” Brendon says pointedly to Spencer, who rolls his eyes.
“Sometimes I swear you’re still a baby,” Spencer replies and Brendon scoffs, bouncing over to the couch with Greta and placing his ear to her stomach.
“You know babies can hear what you’re saying?” he says. “So you shouldn’t insult me in front of it.”
Spencer just sighs, shaking his head, and Brendon grins triumphantly.
Greta doesn’t look bothered by Brendon practically cooing at her bump. She just takes the punch someone hands her and looks at Jon and Spencer.
“Bob’s been so great,” she says with a contented sigh. “He’s already bought a ton of stuff for the nursery and he’s working on a surprise that he won’t let me see.”
“How are you decorating it?” Jon asks interestedly, and Spencer glances at him curiously. Jon isn’t usually this interested in baby stuff.
“Bob wants to do a music motif,” Greta says, “but I was thinking maybe something more to do with nature. It could be soft and pretty and whimsical.”
“Sounds like you guys,” Spencer mutters and Greta laughs.
“Yes, Spencer, I know whimsical isn’t exactly your tastes what with all that math you deal with,” she says warmly even as Spencer frowns.
“I like whimsical,” Spencer argues but Brendon laughs loudly, almost derisively. Spencer turns an unimpressed glare on him but it doesn’t work because Brendon has known him far too long to be affected by any Spencer Smith bitchglares. “Jon, tell them.”
Jon shrugs slightly. “You… have a unicorn shirt,” he says slowly and Spencer sighs. Brendon keeps laughing and Jon leans in, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Sorry.”
“Never mind,” Spencer mutters, and Greta gets distracted when Sisky suggests opening presents and shoves his and Butcher’s into her hands first.
There are picture frames, some of those god awful onesies, things Spencer doesn’t even want to know what they do, baby toys - including Spencer’s green rabbit that Greta makes an ‘aww’ face at - and a few blankets that look really soft. Greta unwraps it all, exclaiming excitedly over each new thing, and Spencer can’t help but think how great of a mom she’s going to be.
Jon is standing next to him, hand still firmly around his waist, warm and comforting, and Spencer likes this. He’s pretty sure he could stay like this forever with Jon, just knowing Jon is there beside him, and he knows Jon is smiling as Greta unwraps more presents and Brendon ‘ooh’s along with her.
He hears Jon sigh, breath tickling his neck, but Spencer doesn’t squirm, and Jon’s hand tightens against his waist for a second.
“I want a kid,” Jon says, voice soft and quiet under the noise from the rest of the party, but Spencer still hears him. His eyes widen slightly and he tries not to stiffen in Jon’s arms, and Jon just keeps watching Greta unwrap presents while Brendon and Sisky argue over which is a better name: Roberto or Francis.
-
Jon pauses at the landing, facing a closed, white door. He doesn’t remember the last time the door was opened. Probably not since at least two weeks ago when they’d gotten the call and rushed out the door. Jon doesn’t open it now, turning and walking past two other closed doors, passing the framed photographs on the wall - there are some of him and Spencer, a few of Spencer and Brendon, Jon, Tom and Ryan all together, even one with Brendon hanging on to Ryan. Ryan looks sort of annoyed, but he always seems to be when Brendon is around. Jon passes all these photographs as he reaches the fourth closed door.
He doesn’t knock as he stands outside of it. He’s pretty sure he knows what he’ll find on the other side, and he waits.
The house is silent around him. He hears the distant bark of Jagger in the backyard, probably chasing Clover up a tree. The rain dribbles down the window at the end of the hall, the one that overlooks the front driveway where Jon’s car is still parked since there hasn’t been room in the garage for months, not since they started this.
Bracing himself, Jon pushes the door open carefully. The scrape on the carpet seems loud in the silence and Jon pauses before he pushes it open all the way.
The lights are off and it’s dim inside the room. The rain outside is now a steady drizzle, grey light filtering in through the windows. The curtains are still pushed back from when Jon got up that morning and went downstairs to find Spencer already gone for work.
He steps inside slowly, glancing around. The room is big, which was what Jon had loved so much about it when they bought the house. There’s room enough for the king size bed, two chests of drawers, bedside tables, and there’s a nook that overlooks the side yard, big enough for two chairs and a small bookcase. The master bathroom is open and airy with a skylight and a big walk-in closet. Jon loves this room about as much as Spencer loves the kitchen.
The bathroom door is open but Jon bypasses it, gaze falling on the bed. It’s perfectly made up, made up in a way that Jon never bothers and Spencer doesn’t usually either.
Lying on the side closest to the nook is Spencer. He has his back to Jon and hasn’t moved since Jon pushed open the door.
Moving over, Jon doesn’t crawl on the bed with Spencer. Instead, he sort of sinks down, sitting on the edge and glancing around the room. There’s not much to look at aside from the mess of loose change and his old watch on the nightstand. Everything else has been meticulously cleaned and organized. He looks at Spencer last, but Spencer hasn’t moved or even made a noise.
Jon isn’t sure what Spencer is thinking, but then, he hasn’t been sure of much lately, and it’s killing him.
The rain pitter-pats on the window and there’s a distant roll of thunder in the distance. Jon hopes vaguely that Clover has made it through the cat door inside. For a moment, Jon just watches the way Spencer breathes, slowly in and out, shoulders moving, barely visible, with each breath. He used to do this when they first moved in together and he’d wake up before Spencer, just watch him breathe.
“I don’t know what to do,” he says finally, voice soft and he can’t help the defeat that seeps into his words. He watches Spencer, and Spencer doesn’t respond. “I don’t know what to say, Spencer. I don’t know how to make this better. I don’t know what’s wrong, and I hate that you’re so unhappy.” He pauses, exhaling tiredly. He just feels tired all the time lately like no amount of sleep with change anything. It’s a tiredness that soaks into his body, making it hard to do even normal things like make coffee in the morning. “Should we call Keltie?”
The rain is getting harder now, the sky growing darker with each passing moment, and Jon doesn’t turn on any of the lamps in the room. He doesn’t scoot further on the bed, but remains at the edge, tracing the patterns of the quilt, the one his mother had spent a year sewing and gave to them for their first Christmas together.
Spencer finally moves, just a small shift, and Jon looks over.
“I think she already knows,” Spencer says quietly, and he sounds normal, not as though he wants to kill Jon or himself.
“Not about that,” Jon says, smoothing over a nonexistent crease in the quilt. “About…”
He doesn’t finish and he doesn’t have to as Spencer moves now, rolling over onto his back and staring at Jon. Spencer’s expression is hard to make out for a minute as he stares, and then he shakes his head a little, eyebrows coming down while a worried panic sparks in his eyes as Jon looks away.
“Again?” Spencer’s voice wavers on the singular word and Jon almost wants to take it back just so he never has to hear Spencer like that again. “Jon, I-I don’t know if I can do this again.”
It hurts a lot more to hear Spencer say it, but Jon knows he has a very valid point. Jon’s almost not sure he can either. He keeps smoothing down the quilt even though his hand has started to shake. Jon never thought this would happen and he never had a plan for if it did.
“Jon,” Spencer says finally, reaching for Jon’s hand, and he pulls Jon over. Jon climbs on to the bed properly now, lying down beside Spencer, and Spencer doesn’t roll into him, just keeps ahold of his wrist and drops his gaze. “I’m sorry… for earlier.”
“It’s okay,” Jon says, and he feels more tired than ever as he lays there next to Spencer, listening to the rain outside.
“No, it’s not okay,” Spencer replies, insists, sounding just as tired as Jon feels. “I was… I don’t know what I was being. A bitch, maybe, or stupid. I can’t tell anymore.” He sounds dejected and Jon squeezes his eyes shut for a second.
“I know it hurts,” Jon says finally, opening his eyes and glancing at Spencer, who looks away, biting his lip. “It fucking sucks and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like a little part of me, a part I didn’t even really have to begin with, has been ripped away and there’s a just a gaping hole where it’s supposed to be. You know?”
Spencer nods after a second, and Jon thinks he sees his bottom lip tremble before Spencer bites down on it.
“Maybe it’s too soon,” Jon murmurs after a minute, sliding his wrist from Spencer’s grip and reaching for his hand instead.
“Maybe it’s fate trying to tell us something,” Spencer says a few minutes later, in between the rain on the window and the creak of the door as Clover pushes it open and winds inside. Something deep inside Jon throbs when Spencer says it, and he doesn’t want to hear it.
“Screw fate,” he whispers and Spencer looks over, a fear in his eyes that Jon doesn’t like. “I want to do this, Spencer. I’ve wanted to do this pretty much since I saw you looking at camera cases that day in the store. I don’t want you to give up, and I know that sounds stupid considering the last six months, but I don’t. I don’t want to.”
Spencer stares at Jon, looking scared and broken all at the same time, but he finally turns, curling up into Jon, and Jon slides his arms around Spencer, letting Spencer burrow into his chest, fingers twining into his tee shirt.
“Third time’s the charm?” Spencer mumbles a minute later, breathing in Jon’s scent deeply, and he doesn’t really sound hopeful, but Jon just hugs him tighter, pressing a kiss to his temple and closing his eyes.
“God, I hope so,” he mutters as the thunder rolls in the distance.
-
“He actually said he wanted to have kids? He told you that?” Brendon’s beer bottle is hanging limply in his hand as he leans forward over his coffee table, staring at Spencer, who takes a sip of his own beer and makes a face.
“He didn’t tell me it,” Spencer replies truthfully. “But he said it.”
Brendon sits back against the couch, ignoring one of his dogs which has been not-so-slyly munching on dropped popcorn kernels throughout the movie. They haven’t been watching the movie most of the time anyway. First, they’d exhausted the topic of Ryan Ross and the pros and cons of calling him back.
Spencer doesn’t really understand their relationship and he isn’t about to analyze it with Brendon. He has his own problems to worry about.
He is twenty-six years old and he’s known Jon not even two years yet, and it probably shouldn’t surprise him that Jon has thought about these things, but Spencer never has.
“What did you tell him?” Brendon asks, pulling the popcorn bag back from where the dog’s nose has been buried in it.
Spencer shrugs, setting his feet up on the coffee table and draining the last of his beer. “Nothing. I don’t even know if he was being serious.”
“Shouldn’t you ask him, then?”
Spencer frowns and sets down his bottle with a clunk. “Shouldn’t you ask Ryan if you’re more than just fuck-buddies?”
“Why ruin a good thing?” Brendon retorts, waving a finger at Spencer. “And you’re getting all defensive. Why won’t you ask him?”
Scowling, Spencer crosses his arms and wishes the most he had to deal with is grading final exams and dealing with stupid students who give flimsy excuses as to why they’re failing. Spencer has very little sympathy for any of them.
He doesn’t want to ask Jon because it’s just opening a can of worms and he doesn’t want to deal with the clean-up. Nothing good can come from it.
“Did I ever say I wanted kids?” Spencer asks instead and Brendon shrugs, petting the dog now flopped in his lap. “How would that even work? We’re not married. We don’t have a lesbian friend we can get pregnant.”
“You watched Queer as Folk again, didn’t you?”
“Brendon!”
“Okay, okay,” Brendon says quickly, sitting up and the dog snuffles. “It’s totally possible, you know, without the lesbian. Who says it has to be your kid?”
“What?” Spencer is confused and Brendon is not helping.
He’s tried not to think about it since Jon murmured it at Greta’s baby shower. Jon hasn’t mentioned it again, but Spencer is pretty sure Jon thinks about it. He certainly does now.
A kid isn’t something Spencer ever really considered. Ever since he’d discovered he liked guys a lot more than girls, children have been the last thing on his mind. It never occurred to him that Jon might want one. He’s happy with Jon, though, happy with their situation. They have a nice house, a few pets, good jobs, and Spencer doesn’t really need anything else.
Brendon never responds to his question as his phone goes off with a text message and he snatches it from the table.
“Booty call?” Spencer drawls when Brendon smiles at the message and flips the phone shut.
“Ryan’s dirty,” he replies, and that is definitely more than Spencer needs to know.
*
Spencer is not thinking about how, if they had a kid, they wouldn’t be able to do this when Jon bites at his shoulder blade and Spencer comes, hot and sticky on Jon’s hand while Jon pushes in from behind. Spencer’s wrists are bound to the headboard and he can feel Jon deep inside him, pushing in harder while Spencer pants for breath.
“Fuck, Jon,” he manages to whisper just before Jon comes with a groan, mouth pressed against Spencer’s spine, tongue tracing the line down his back as Jon’s hips slow and Spencer closes his eyes.
His heart is thudding when Jon finally pulls out, pressing kisses up his back and pausing on the dark red mark on his shoulder. He runs a gentle finger over it before scooting up and reaching for the ties around Spencer’s wrists.
Spencer slides down onto the bed, sated and tired, but something in his stomach jumps a little when Jon scoots in beside him, brushing his hair away from his face.
“Are you okay, Spence?” Jon asks after a second, and Spencer glances at him. Jon is just watching him calmly, and Spencer smiles slightly.
“Yeah, of course,” he says, leaning in and kissing Jon slowly. He loves the way Jon kisses after sex, so soft and slow like that’s all they need to do.
Jon is still watching him when he pulls away. “You’ve been acting kind of weird since the shower. Did something happen?”
“No,” Spencer replies, trying to dismiss the way his mind immediately flits to Jon’s words, I want a kid.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, fuck, I’m sure,” Spencer says, probably a little too hard because now Jon is watching him, an eyebrow furrowed. Spencer looks away after a second, huffing slightly and sitting up. His clothes are scattered around the room and outside, Spencer can see the Christmas lights decorating the neighbor’s house. There’s a gaudy Santa Clause and reindeer on top of their roof and Spencer wonders if it would be too bitchy to go to the homeowner’s association about it.
Jon sits up after a minute too, reaching for Spencer’s wrist and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the skin lightly.
“Is it work?”
“No, it’s not work. I-I…” Spencer doesn’t finish, swinging his legs off the bed and grabbing the first pair of boxers he sees. He doesn’t really want to talk to Jon about this because he doesn’t know how it would end.
Instead, he heads for the door and goes downstairs. In the living room, Jagger is sleeping on the couch and jumps off when he hears Spencer. Spencer eyes him suspiciously. Jagger knows better than to get on the furniture. But the dog is just wagging his tail as Spencer approaches.
“Go outside,” Spencer tells him, opening the sliding glass door and feeling the chilly breeze sweep in. It’s too cold to be wearing only a pair of boxers in the house, but Spencer doesn’t want to get more clothes. Jagger prances out the door and Spencer shuts it behind him, rubbing his arms a little.
The Christmas tree in the living room is decorated from head to toe with a multi-colored star sitting on the top. It lights up when the rest of the tree is plugged in, but it’s still light out, so it’s not on. He heads into the kitchen, rummaging in the cupboard for the cocoa mix and starts heating the water. He hears Jagger bark twice outside but then it’s silent except for the teapot on the stove.
He hears when Jon enters the kitchen, hears him pause in the doorway and sigh. Spencer hates when Jon sighs like that, like he knows something is wrong but can’t figure it out. It makes Spencer feel guilty somehow.
The teapot starts to whistle and Spencer takes it off the stove, pouring it into his mug with the cocoa powder. He doesn’t say anything as he stirs and when he turns to find the marshmallows, Jon is already there with the package.
“Spence, what’s wrong?” Jon asks as Spencer takes the package and opens it.
“I told you-”
“Nothing, I know,” Jon interrupts. “But you just came downstairs in your boxers when it’s barely fifty degrees outside, and there’s a warm, cozy bed upstairs with a loving boyfriend in it. So forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
Sighing, Spencer adds three large marshmallows to his mug. They barely fit and bumble against each other as Spencer stirs the hot chocolate.
There’s not much to it as Spencer pauses. He’s going to have to bring it up. Turning from the counter, he faces Jon, crossing his arms over his chest, and taking in Jon’s confused expression.
“Do you want kids, Jon?”
Jon looks surprised and almost smiles. “What?”
“You said you wanted a kid,” Spencer replies. “At Greta’s shower. You said you wanted one.”
Jon’s expression is still confused but now more concerned as Spencer frowns, arms still crossed tightly.
“Spencer, no. I don’t want a kid right now.”
“But eventually,” Spencer asks carefully. “You want a kid.”
Jon shrugs, and it’s enough of an answer for Spencer, and he bites his lip, turning back to his cocoa. He doesn’t really know if the answer changes anything.
“I don’t get what’s wrong,” Jon says after a minute. “Do you not want kids?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer says finally. “I never really thought about it, I mean, especially since it’s not like either one of us can have one.”
“Well-”
“You know what I mean,” Spencer interrupts, blowing on his cocoa while Jon stands behind him silently.
“We wouldn’t have to do a surrogate,” Jon says finally and Spencer pauses. He doesn’t want to know how much Jon has thought about this. “There are other ways.”
Spencer frowns slightly, looking at Jon. “But you think we’re ready for a kid? We haven’t even reached our second anniversary yet.”
“Some people don’t even know each other that long when they get married.”
“That’s called a shotgun wedding, Jon,” Spencer points out sharply, chewing on a marshmallow. “We’re not sixteen and pregnant.”
“I bet there are a lot of girls who are,” Jon replies simply. “And their kids need loving homes.”
“You mean adoption?” Spencer asks cautiously. From what he’s heard, adoption is a lengthy, stressful process.
“Yeah,” Jon says, stepping up to Spencer slowly. “But don’t worry, Spence. There isn’t any sort of pressure or anything. Things will happen when they happen and if you’re not ready or not sure, you know, just think about it.”
Jon kisses Spencer slowly and Spencer sets down his mug on the counter as Jon give him another light peck.
“But you do want a kid?” he asks again when Jon pulls back. He sees the way Jon sort of huffs quietly, but smiles at Spencer.
“I’m happy with you,” he just says, kissing Spencer’s nose and heading for the fridge. “Hey, make me some hot chocolate and we’ll watch old Christmas movies all night?”
Spencer doesn’t reply as Jon flashes him a grin and heads for the living room. Instead, he sighs and turns to the teapot, shaking it and listening to the water rattle.
*
Christmas morning, Spencer is shaken awake too early and dragged downstairs where he smiles resignedly when Jon just grins at him and hands him a present to open.
They have cinnamon rolls and hot apple cider and turn on the electric fireplace for only the third time ever. Clover plays in the wrapping paper and Jagger is busy devouring his Christmas bone. Christmas music drifts from the stereo system and Spencer doesn’t stop Jon from pinning him against the carpet in front of the fireplace and giving him a slow, leisurely blow job.
If they had a kid, they couldn’t do this, Spencer thinks for a split second before his mind goes fuzzy and he’s mumbling about how much he loves Jon’s mouth.
Afterwards, Spencer clears away the wrapping paper, except for a few strands of ribbon which he leaves for Clover’s amusement. Jon is playing tug-of-war with Jagger and the now-slimy bone, but he grins brightly at Spencer as Spencer stuffs paper into a box and shoves it in the corner.
“I’m gonna go start dinner stuff,” Spencer says, stacking a few of the new DVDs on the coffee table and Jon abandons his game with the dog, struggling up and pulling Spencer to him unexpectedly.
“You know this is always exactly how I wanted my life to turn out?” he asks and Spencer can’t help smiling, small and flushed.
“I’m glad,” he says in the end, and Jon kisses him lightly.
“Are you making pie for tonight?” Jon asks eagerly and Spencer laughs, pushing him away.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” And he saunters into the kitchen, thinking that this is exactly how he always wanted his life to turn out too.
*
Christmas dinner is too many people crammed into their house but Spencer doesn’t mind because everyone is smiling and happy to be there. There’s Sisky and the Butcher, Tom, Ryan and Brendon, though they insist they didn’t come together, Pete, who brought his own piece of mistletoe and is trying to get everyone to kiss him, and even Bob and Greta, who have shown up with little Reese, who is barely a month old. They’re careful to keep his basket covered in case he scares easily, but they all take turns taking a peek at the little baby.
Jagger is so hyped up at all the company that they have to put him in the backyard to stop him from barking and jumping on everyone he sees. Clover darts upstairs the moment the first doorbell rings and doesn’t come down the rest of the night.
Spencer is busy in the kitchen while Jon plays the host with the rest of the guests, but Spencer isn’t surprised when Brendon slips into the kitchen alone and tries to eat some of the food before it’s done.
“Hey!” Spencer reprimands sharply as Brendon swipes a cookie from one of the plates. Spencer has made multiple desserts and he won’t let Brendon ruin any of them.
Brendon ignores him, leaning up against the counter and glancing around at the kitchen. Every surface has some sort of food on it.
“Are you cooking for the apocalypse?” Brendon asks and Spencer ignores him, checking the ham in the oven. Brendon isn’t bothered when Spencer doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns around, propping his elbows on the counter. “So Ryan’s here?”
“Yeah,” Spencer says obviously, heading for the pantry and rummaging for plates. He pauses when Brendon doesn’t reply. Turning back, his eyes narrow. “Don’t even think about defacing one of our rooms.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Brendon replies with a scoff, but he looks almost intrigued at the thought. “Besides, we broke up.”
“Which time?” Spencer scoffs, stacking the plates on the counter and arching an eyebrow at Brendon.
Brendon and Ryan have been “dating” on and off for almost a year, if they can even call it that. Someone says something about the other and they “break up” but almost always, a week or two later, they’re fucking in Ryan’s office or on Brendon’s couch.
“He said I was clingy,” Brendon says, clearly disbelieving. “I’m not the one who can’t stop touching my ass.”
“Too much information,” Spencer says loudly. “I don’t tell you about Jon and I.”
“Yeah, what do you guys do?” Brendon asks, eyes sparking eagerly, and Spencer glares.
“I’m not telling you.”
“I’m your best friend,” Brendon says matter-of-factly, and Spencer rolls his eyes slightly. Brendon uses that excuse at least once a day. “And you’ve been dating Jon for almost two years. And you never tell me anything. Is he good in bed? He must be if it’s been this long. Does he have any special tricks? Ooh! What about his hands? I bet he’s really good with his hands, right?”
Spencer just glares and hands Brendon a stack of plates.
“Go set the table,” he tells him instead and Brendon grins.
“It is his hands, isn’t it?” he asks and Spencer just gives him a push out into the dining room.
Sighing, he rubs his forehead and turns back to his food, rearranging the cookies to cover up where Brendon stole one.
“He’s quite the handful, isn’t he?”
Spencer turns at Greta’s voice. She’s standing in the doorway, tucking a piece of her curly, blond hair behind her ear. She’s smiling but she looks tired.
“You’d never know he’s almost twenty-six,” Spencer mutters instead, checking the oven again. The ham is almost ready and Spencer wonders what he’s forgotten to do. He glances at Greta. “How’s the baby and everything? I hear you don’t get to sleep much the first few months.”
Greta smiles, coming over and helping Spencer as he rummages for silverware. “It’s been an adjustment,” she allows, which Spencer takes to mean that, no, you don’t get any sleep. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“Well, Reese is adorable,” Spencer says dutifully and Greta pats his arm.
“Thank you,” she says graciously.
She leaves the kitchen with the silverware and Spencer only has to deal with Pete once trying to dangle the mistletoe over his head before the ham is done and everyone is sitting down to dinner.
“You are amazing,” Jon only says when Spencer sets the last of the food on the table and takes his seat. There’s so much food on the table that it might be in danger of collapsing, but everyone is seated around it, and it feels so ridiculously clichéd that Spencer just can’t help smiling.
Ryan and Brendon are at the other end of the table, carefully not looking at each other while Ryan talks to Pete about music and Brendon fusses over baby Reese whose basket is on the floor next to Greta’s chair. Greta is practically glowing even if she looks tired, and she uncovers the basket for a moment as Brendon coos at the baby. Spencer can see Ryan looking at Brendon from the corner of his eye.
The baby is cute, Spencer will admit, with his tiny toes and fingers, his hair that is almost the same color as his skin. He catches Jon smiling goofily in that direction for a moment before he takes the plate Sisky passes to him. Something in Spencer’s stomach flutters wildly for a second when Jon passes him the plate, and he looks away.
Dinner goes smoothly and there are toasts made to Greta and Bob and Reese, to Spencer’s food, even to the dog and maybe they’ve all had a bit too much wine at that point. Spencer brings out the multitudes of desserts and isn’t surprised when Jon pulls him over, grinning against his mouth as he says, “You did make pie.”
“You love pie,” Spencer replies simply and Jon’s grin widens as he pecks Spencer’s lips.
“I do,” he agrees, settling down and serving himself the first slice.
Greta is watching them from down the table, smiling to herself, and Spencer catches her eye once as the desserts are passed around. He doesn’t know what to make of her look and doesn’t ask her about it later, just hands Jon the whipped cream.
Ryan is still covertly watching Brendon after they’ve abandoned the table and gathered in the living room, Pete trying unsuccessfully to start singing Christmas carols. They toast more and exchange a few extra gifts before the guests start to trickle home.
Sisky and the Butcher go first since they have to go to Sisky’s parents’ house in the morning. Sisky hugs Spencer and tells him he’s lucky for everything he has. Spencer doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just hugs Sisky back and waves when he leaves.
Brendon finally returns one of Ryan’s not-so-subtle looks near the end of the night, and Spencer doesn’t even have to be told to know where Ryan’s going tonight, although Brendon does whisper it to him as he’s getting his coat.
“Clingy, my ass,” Brendon scoffs, pulling on his coat and sneaking a glance at Ryan, who looks away quickly, having been caught staring. Brendon smirks at Spencer. “He’ll be-”
“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Spencer interrupts and Brendon just laughs.
“Merry Christmas, Spence,” he just says and Spencer lets them both go. If Ryan tries to leave five minutes later, it’s more like three.
Pete leaves not too long after, looking disappointed that no one kissed him, and Tom just sighs heavily and grabs him, planting a short and obviously annoyed kiss on his mouth. Pete looks significantly happier after that even if Tom wipes his mouth and asks Greta for the number of a girl, any girl.
Greta and Bob are last, which surprises Spencer. He thought they’d be first, but Reese starts to fuss and Greta is immediately up from where she was dozing on the couch.
“We should go,” she says, glancing at Bob, who is already getting their coats.
Jon moves over, peering down at Reese again and smiling. Spencer lingers back, watching Jon tickle the baby’s feet.
“Can I babysit?” Jon asks and Spencer’s stomach does a little unexpected lurch even though it shouldn’t surprise him.
“Anytime you want,” Bob accepts graciously. “Seriously.”
Greta rolls her eyes, smiling, and pulls on the coat Bob hands her. “We’d love it if you two want to spend time with Reese. You can be his favorite uncles.”
Jon is practically beaming and Spencer doesn’t really know why he feels so funny. She covers the baby back up and waves to Spencer. He waves back after a second.
After they’re gone, Jon comes over and collapses on the couch. It’s late and the sun has set hours ago. Most of the kitchen is clean already, so Spencer doesn’t fight it when Jon grabs his wrist and tugs him down on the couch with him.
“I love Christmas,” Jon says after a second, hugging Spencer to him and kissing the top of his head lightly. Spencer doesn’t reply, thinking of Jon’s face as he’d looked at Reese, the smile there. “Wasn’t Reese so cute? I wonder if they’ll have another kid. You know what we should do?”
Spencer glances up but doesn’t ask. Instead, he snuggles into Jon, squeezing his thigh lightly.
“We should find Tom a girlfriend.”
“You don’t think he wants to date Pete after that kiss?” Spencer jokes and Jon laughs. Spencer feels relieved to hear it.
“No,” Jon disagrees. “He probably wants to scrub his mouth out.”
Spencer smiles, sighing tiredly. It’s been a long day.
“But maybe if Tom got married, he’d have a kid. And we could be godparents.”
Spencer pauses, listening to the faint scratching of Jagger at the back door and Christmas music still playing softly on the stereo. He’s beginning to see what Jon wants and he doesn’t know what to say to it. He’s never really put much thought into it.
“Yeah,” he says instead, squeezing Jon’s thigh comfortingly and closing his eyes, listening to Jon’s heartbeat thud strong and steady beneath his ear.
*
The thing Spencer loves most about his job is that he still gets school vacations. He gets three months in the summer, four days for Thanksgiving, a week in the spring, and almost a month at Christmas. Usually he spends the time hanging out with Brendon, watching movies, going shopping, or just vegging at home, trying out new recipes, catching up on things he’s supposed to be reading.
This winter break, though, Spencer spends the days while Jon is at work dragging his laptop downstairs and putting in a movie on the TV. He doesn’t watch the movie, though, and feels almost as if he’s doing something he shouldn’t when he pulls up his internet browser. The dog is flopped at his feet, paws twitching, and Clover skirts around him carefully to jump up on the couch with Spencer.
Spencer hesitates then forces his fingers to type. The list of websites that come up all look normal and he clicks on one, reading the passage at the top.
Interested in adoption? Look no further! Our site provides a comprehensive guide to what will become the most enriching experience of your life!
It’s too peppy and Spencer frowns, glancing up sharply at a noise, but it’s just the movie. Telling himself to relax, he flips through a couple websites, reading more and more.
He’s never considered adoption. It always seems like adoption is for couples who can’t have children, or celebrities who want to prove how giving they are. It’s not for someone like Spencer who is content with his job and his boyfriend. They have a dog and a cat. That’s enough children for him.
But then he thinks of Jon and how he smiles when he talks about Reese. He thinks about what Jon said, just those few weeks ago - I’m happy with you… Just think about it.
Jon’s not pushing but Jon never pushes. He always waits for Spencer to catch up somehow, as if Spencer always needs more time to catch up. Spencer is tired of being behind. He knows what Jon wants, but he doesn’t know how long Jon is willing to wait, and what if he isn’t?”
Spencer blinks unseeingly at the television as the thought hits him. It has never occurred to him that maybe Jon won’t wait forever. Maybe he’ll go find someone who wants a kid too. Maybe he’ll do it himself if no one else will.
No, that’s crazy, Spencer tells himself firmly. They’ve only been together two years. Jon isn’t going to leave him over this… is he?
By the time the movie is over, Spencer has completely freaked himself out, and he stands up, closing his laptop firmly on the many tabs talking about adoption. Shaking himself, he glances out the window.
It’s sunny outside but he knows it’s chilly. At his feet, Jagger stirs, looking up at him and wagging his tail knowingly.
“Let’s go for a run,” Spencer says, and Jagger scrambles up as if he knows exactly what Spencer said, and he’s prancing around excitedly as Spencer pulls on his shoes and a jacket.
Spencer clips on the leash and stands, casting only one glance at his closed laptop still sitting on the couch before he opens the front door and starts off down the driveway.
*
Spencer doesn’t really want to be there, but it isn’t as though he can say no and go home. All of their friends are there, and a lot more people that Spencer doesn’t know.
“Happy new year!” Pete yells, blowing a noisemaker in Spencer’s ear, and Spencer scowls.
Pete grins, setting a party hat on his head despite Spencer’s glare and crossed arms.
It’s Pete’s apartment and it’s decorated from head to toe in multicolored balloons and streamers. The television is on some lame concert-news-countdown thing and Spencer just wants to find Jon and go home. He hasn’t seen Jon, though, for a while and he’s had to endure the party alone.
“Cheer up!” Pete cries, patting Spencer on the back. “It’s a new year! Any resolutions?”
“To break all your noisemakers,” Spencer snaps, but Pete just blows it again pointedly. Spencer snatches at it but Pete dances out of reach, disappearing into the crowd.
Sighing, Spencer turns to the crowded living room, searching for anyone he knows, but he only sees Ryan in some distant corner and he really doesn’t want to have a discussion about the archaic tradition that is new years and trying to better oneself with a stupid promise made at midnight. Instead, he leaves his safe spot against the wall and weaves into the cluster of people.
Someone hands him a drink as he passes and he takes it gratefully. He needs it right now to stop him from punching the next person to blow on a noisemaker.
Pete’s kitchen is just as overflowing with people as the living room, but Spencer spots Jon through the crowd and stretches up. Jon is standing over by a counter, grinning stupidly at something. Frowning, Spencer pushes his way through and finally catches sight of Greta giving Jon a hug.
“-Have to get going,” he hears her say, covering up the baby basket. “I don’t want to scare Reese. And it’s late.”
Jon just nods, peeking under the blanket again and making a sound that Spencer usually makes faces at but instead, he feels sort of like melting into the floor. Greta hugs Jon before she weaves her way out of the apartment. Jon watches her go with almost a dreamy expression on his face, and if Spencer wasn’t absolutely sure that Jon was gay, he might think he had a thing for Greta… or maybe just Reese.
Turning away, Spencer doesn’t approach Jon. Instead, he tosses back the drink in his hand and swallows the lump in his throat as he makes it back to the living room.
Brendon practically jumps on him the moment he gets there, shouting something in his ear and hugging him tightly.
“How drunk are you?” Spencer chokes with Brendon’s arms around his neck. Brendon lets him go finally, grinning.
“Drunk enough to say that Ryan Ross is looking hot tonight and I know what I want for Christmas!” Brendon practically shouts it but no one hears over the rest of the noise. “But not drunk enough to ignore your face. You look sad.”
“I’m not sad,” Spencer says, like an automatic response.
“Yes, yes, you are,” Brendon corrects him easily. “Or if you’re not, then you’re thinking of something… I don’t know.” He laughs slightly then sighs. “What’s wrong, Spencer Smith?”
“Nothing,” Spencer replies firmly. He gives Brendon a little push. “Look, Ryan is over there. Why don’t you go molest him?”
Brendon arches an eyebrow but in the end doesn’t fight Spencer. He bumbles away and Spencer sighs, jumping when someone’s hands slide around his waist.
“Did I just hear you pawn Brendon off on Ryan?” Jon’s voice asks from behind him, sounding amused and slightly confused. “I thought you were against that whole union.”
Sighing, Spencer grabs another drink from a passing tray and tosses his back. “I’m not against it; I just don’t understand it.”
“You okay?” Jon asks instead, nuzzling Spencer’s neck, and Spencer feels a jolt in his stomach and he’s not sure why.
“Fine,” he replies, glancing at the clock. They have about ten minutes until midnight and Pete is hurrying around, trying to find someone to kiss. Spencer doubts Tom will do it again if Tom staying on the completely opposite room and pretending to be in deep conversation with some brown-haired girl is any indication.
Jon doesn’t reply, pressing kisses to his neck, like he knows Spencer wants to leave but they have to stay.
“Jon,” Spencer says finally, and Jon pauses in his kisses, pressing his nose to Spencer’s jaw.
“Hmm?”
“Do you really want a kid?”
There’s a pause, and Spencer can feel his heart beating against his ribs. Then Jon sighs quietly, just a huff of breath over his neck.
“I told you, Spence-”
“Yeah, I know what you said, but-” Spencer turns around in Jon’s grip and looks at him, frowning slightly. “But you do. I see you with Reese. You wish he was yours. You want a kid.”
Jon sighs again, a little more frustrated this time. “Spence, I didn’t say I wanted one right now. You’re not ready, I know. We’ve never even really talked about it.”
Spencer is quiet for a minute. They haven’t really talked about it, and until about four months ago, he hadn’t even thought about it.
“No, we haven’t,” he agrees quietly, and Jon slides his hands up Spencer’s arms.
“It’s not a time-sensitive issue. I can wait.”
“How long can you wait?” Spencer asks, eyes flicking to Jon’s, unsure, and Jon pauses before pulling Spencer into a hug. His arms wrap, warm and firm, around his shoulders and Spencer slips his hands against Jon’s waist.
“I’d wait forever for you,” Jon says seriously, muttering into Spencer’s hair, and Spencer’s stomach unclenches as a thrill runs through it.
“I… I want to do it,” Spencer mumbles finally, voice quiet under the noise from the partygoers and he knows Jon didn’t hear when Jon smoothes a hand down his back and says, “What?”
Pulling back, Spencer knows this is his chance to take it back, but if he doesn’t do it now, he might never, and he knows how badly Jon wants this, and he wants Jon to be happy. He wants to be happy.
“I want to do it,” Spencer repeats calmly and waits as Jon’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open a little.
“Do what?” he asks, as if unsure, and Spencer huffs a little.
“Have a kid, a-adopt a kid, I don’t know,” he mumbles uselessly, a flutter of nerves batting in his stomach as he watches Jon. “Jon?”
Jon stares at Spencer for a second longer before shaking his head. “Are you serious, Spencer? Because we don’t have to.”
“No, I want to,” Spencer says again, and it’s a little stronger each time. “I think… I do. With you.”
Jon laughs then, once, a huff of air as he stares at Spencer and his mouth spreads into a grin.
“I-I can’t believe this,” he breathes finally, eyes sparkling, and Spencer lets out a breath. He’s surprised when Jon pulls him forward into a hard kiss and Spencer smiles into it.
“Hey, it’s not midnight yet!” Pete’s voice breaks them apart, but Spencer just flips him off and leans into Jon again.
*
The walls are too cheery and Spencer whispers it to Jon as they step into the reception area. Jon laughs, slipping an arm around Spencer’s waist and stepping forward, ignoring the yellow walls plastered with hand-drawn pictures. Behind the secretary’s desk, there is a photo board stuffed full of pictures of couples and newborn babies.
Spencer arches a skeptical eyebrow, but Jon is stepping up to the desk.
“Hi,” he greets the woman there and she looks up with a smile, fingers clacking at the computer.
“What can I do for you?” she asks, and Jon pulls Spencer forward. Spencer goes reluctantly. The place sort of freaks him out even if he knows they have to be there.
“We have an appointment with Ms. Colleen,” Jon replies and the woman clacks at her computer some more.
“Jon Walker and Spencer Smith?” the woman asks and Jon nods. Spencer jerks his head, glancing around at the waves painted as trim around the top of the walls. He feels sort of like he fell into a preschool, a badly decorate preschool. Their nursery is not going to look like this, he decides. “Have a seat. She’ll be down in a minute.”
Spencer makes a face at the obscenely bright red chairs and sinks into one as Jon shifts nervously, switching the folder he’s holding from hand to hand.
It’s been two months since they decided they would do adoption, and since then Jon has been nothing but focused. He’s the one who found the agency, who called Ms. Colleen and got the documents they needed to fill out. He’s the one who’s ready for this. Spencer is just trying to keep up and not freak out.
When Jon switches hands again, tapping the folder nervously, Spencer reaches out for his wrist.
“Jon, relax,” he says and Jon stops, forcing a smile.
“Sorry, I’m just nervous and kind of excited.” He sinks down into the chair next to Spencer. He lets Spencer twine their fingers together. “I just hope everything is okay.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Spencer asks and Jon doesn’t reply, glancing down at the folder in his hands.
They haven’t talked about it, the things that could go wrong. Spencer has been trying so hard to focus on what will go right. The truth is, though, that they’re not married, and even if their two year anniversary is just around the corner, that doesn’t mean much to a prospective birth mother. She chooses them not the other way around.
They haven’t told anyone they’re doing this, not yet. Spencer wants to be sure it’s happening before anyone gets too excited or starts asking annoying questions that he doesn’t have the answer to yet. He knows Jon is just bursting to tell people, but he’s restraining himself on Spencer’s behalf, and Spencer doesn’t have to be told to know how lucky he is.
“Mr. Walker? Mr. Smith?” A voice breaks Spencer from his thoughts and he looks up to find a petite, blonde-haired woman standing to the side of the receptionist’s desk. She’s holding a similar-looking folder to her chest and smiles as they rise. “Hello, I’m Keltie Colleen.”
“Yeah,” Jon says quickly, and Spencer smiles fondly at his enthusiasm. “I’m Jon. We talked on the phone and you sent me all the initial paperwork.”
“Yes, I remember,” Keltie says with a smile. “Why don’t you come back to my office?”
It’s not quite as obnoxiously cheery in the back maze of offices which Spencer is glad for. They follow Keltie to a larger office and she stands back to let them in first, closing the door behind them.
“Have a seat,” she says, offering the two chairs facing her desk.
Spencer can tell Jon is nervous as he sits down, shifting the folder around, and Spencer takes the other chair, sliding a reassuring hand onto Jon’s leg. Jon shoots him a small smile as Keltie rounds the desk and takes the other chair, folding her hands on top and looking between them.
“So, you are interested in adoption?” she asks, and Jon nods.
“Yeah. We think it’d be really great. I’ve always wanted kids.”
Keltie nods, glancing at Spencer again like she can tell he’s not quite as excited.
“I have to let you know,” she says fairly, sitting back in the chair. “That your situation isn’t always ideal so it may be more difficult for you.”
“We know,” Spencer replies for Jon. “But we don’t care.”
Keltie pauses and then smiles, holding out a hand. “Can I see the paperwork?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jon says quickly, handing it over, and she opens the folder.
There’s silence for a moment as she scans the papers, their names, occupations, ages, all that boring stuff that’s necessary for things like this.
“So you’re not married?” she asks finally, and Spencer knew that would come up.
“Um, no,” Jon admits after a second. “But we own a house together and our two-year anniversary is coming up in a few weeks, and there are lots of people who can vouch for us being completely sane.”
Keltie laughs, setting down the paper she was looking at. “That’s good to know. Actually, we will need character references from your friends or coworkers, so you should think of who you’d like to ask. We’ll also need bank statements, proof of income, proof of homeownership, all those sort of documents.”
Jon nods seriously, and Spencer pauses.
“What if no one picks us?”
“Spencer,” Jon says but Spencer ignores him, watching Keltie.
Keltie shifts back, tucking back a strand of hair and smoothing down her pink blouse.
“It’s a possibility, but we have many different kinds of birthmothers here and they’re all looking for different things in potential parents. I’m sure there’s a match out there somewhere, Mr. Smith.”
“Spencer,” Spencer mutters, and Keltie smiles.
“Don’t worry about that now. For now, just gather the documents, think about what you want, and get those character references done. The faster you are, the faster we can put you in the system.”
Jon nods and Spencer sits back.
“We will,” Jon assures her. “Thank you, Ms. Colleen.”
“Call me Keltie,” Keltie says. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other after all.”
Jon smiles as he rises, and Spencer stands also. They shake hands and leave with Keltie’s reminder to think about the references.
“I think this is gonna be okay,” Jon says as they leave the agency and its bright colors behind.
“It’s gonna be… something,” Spencer agrees as they reach the car and slide inside.
*
The upstairs office, which Spencer doesn’t really use that often except during finals week when he’s got over two hundred exams to grade, has a desktop computer that neither of them really use, a table in one corner, and file cabinets in the closet for all their records. Ever since New Year’s, though, the door has been opened to the office and the computer desk has been scattered with papers.
Some are notes, some are calculations, some are sheets and sheets of information printed off the internet. The file cabinets have been raided and copies of copies of copies are scattered in different piles on the table.
Spencer isn’t in the office, though. Instead, he’s sitting in the backyard on the little rocking bench Jon bought a few months after moving in and put on the edge of the porch. The porch is really nothing more than a slab on concrete, but the grass spreads out from where the concrete stops and there are flowers and bushes lining the back fence.
He rocks back and forth idly as Jagger runs back to him excitedly, dropping a slobbery tennis ball in his lap. Spencer plucks it out with a face and tosses it to the other side of the yard, Jagger tearing after.
It’s still a little cold outside, since it’s the bitter end of February and spring hasn’t exactly sprung yet. Spencer just zips up his jacket and makes another face as Jagger drops the ball in his lap again.
“Don’t you ever get tired?” he asks as he tosses the ball again. Jagger takes off and Spencer sits back, still rocking slowly.
He doesn’t turn at the sound of the sliding glass door, but Jagger immediately changes his course from where he’d been heading for Spencer. Instead, he bounds for the door, the tennis ball firmly in his mouth as his whole body wiggles from the force of his wagging tail.
“Hey,” Jon says, rounding the bench and sitting down next to Spencer. Jagger is still trying to push his gross ball into Jon’s hand, but Jon settles for patting his head instead. “What are you doing out here?”
“Giving Jagger some much needed exercise,” Spencer replies as the dog abandons Jon and plops the ball in Spencer’s waiting hand. Spencer throws it away and Jon smiles, sliding an arm over his shoulders.
Spencer sighs as Jon leans into his neck, pressing a kiss to it lightly, not moving away.
“Have you thought about who we should ask for the reference?” Jon asks after a minute as Jagger starts to run in circles around the yard on his own merit.
“I think first we need to actually tell people we’re adopting,” Spencer points out, watching Clover sneak out from the side of the house. She skirts the edge of the fence and disappears in some bushes as Jagger catches sight of her and makes a beeline.
“True,” Jon allows, pulling back from Spencer’s neck and brushing his hair aside. “But seriously, I was thinking about asking Tom.”
Spencer nods slightly, leaning into Jon and watching Jagger sniff in the bushes now, sufficiently distracted.
“He’s your best friend.”
“Do you want to ask Brendon?”
Spencer pauses, thinking. “What could Brendon say that Tom can’t?” he asks after a minute. “Maybe we should ask Greta and Bob.”
Jon smiles. “So they can gush about how good we are with their kid?”
“Why not,” Spencer says, shrugging, and Jon laughs.
“I’m so glad I met you, Spencer Smith,” Jon says after a minute and Spencer glances over.
Jon smiles at him and Spencer waits a minute before turning and crawling into Jon’s lap.
“I’m glad you did too,” he says, running his fingers through Jon’s shorter hair and leaning down for a sweet kiss. “Thank God Brendon is a klutz and broke Shane’s lens.”
“Yeah,” Jon murmurs in agreement as Spencer dips back in, kissing the corner of his mouth and down to his jaw. Jon’s hand slides to his lower back and he slides down a little to let Spencer settle in on top of him, warm against the chilly air.
The wood is hard and uncomfortable against his knees but Spencer doesn’t let it bother him as he kisses Jon harder, fingers tightening around the back of his neck. Jon doesn’t say anything as Spencer kisses him languidly, doesn’t say anything until Spencer’s hand slides down, fiddling with his belt, and his eyes open.
“Spence,” he says, his voice breathier than he means it to be. “We have neighbors.”
Arching an eyebrow, Spencer looks around pointedly at the tall, wooden fence that surrounds their backyard. Jagger is snuffling in the dirt in the corner.
“We have fences,” he replies, biting at Jon’s jaw, and Jon tilts his head back anyway.
“Well, good fences make good neighbors,” he mumbles finally and feels Spencer smirk as he gets the belt undone.
“Yes, they do.”
*
“Wait. I think I’m hallucinating.”
Spencer doesn’t scowl but huffs a little as Brendon stares at him from the other end of the couch. A pizza box is open on the coffee table, only a few measly crumbs left, and Spencer has a beer in his hand.
They’re in Brendon’s shoebox apartment and Spencer had to practically kick Ryan out so he could talk to Brendon alone. And since when did they actually get to the point of spending the night? Spencer doesn’t really want to know.
“Did you just say you were adopting a kid?” Brendon asks incredulously. “With Jon?”
“Yeah,” Spencer says obviously, taking a sip of his beer and trying to ignore the way Brendon’s eyes widen comically and his mouth spreads into a grin almost as big as Pete’s.
Tom hadn’t seemed so shocked when they’d told him. In fact, he’d slapped Spencer on the back and said it was about damn time. Spencer is not expecting the same reaction from Brendon even if he’s known Brendon about as long as Jon has known Tom.
“You are adopting a kid,” Brendon repeats again and Spencer rolls his eyes.
“Yes, Brendon. What?”
Brendon laughs, reaching for his beer but laughing too much to actually take a drink. Spencer frowns at him until Brendon sobers up.
“It’s just, I mean.” Brendon gestures at Spencer and Spencer arches an eyebrow. “It’s you.”
“So?” Spencer asks testily, and Brendon is still laughing.
“So-” Brendon stops, looking at Spencer and finally lowering his bottle from his mouth and pausing, blinking slowly. “Wait, you really are? You and Jon.”
“Yes!” Spencer huffs. “How many times do I have to say i-”
He stops abruptly as Brendon throws himself over the couch and squeezes him tightly.
“Bren, can’t breathe,” Spencer chokes after a second.
Brendon still clings but loosens his grip slightly. “Oh my god, this is so awesome! Spencer, you’re gonna be a daddy!”
“I know,” Spencer replies exasperatedly, but he smiles anyway when Brendon finally lets go, grinning at him. “I know. We already asked Tom to write a character reference.”
“How come you didn’t ask me?” Brendon asks, affronted, but Spencer rolls his eyes.
“Because Tom is Jon’s best friend.”
“I’m your best friend!” Brendon pouts slightly, poking at Spencer. “I would say nice stuff.”
“I know,” Spencer says, sighing. “But I just want this to work, to be perfect.”
“Why does it have to be perfect?” Brendon drains the last of his beer and sets it down with a clunk.
“Jon really wants a kid,” Spencer says with a shrug. “And I don’t want anything to get in the way. I want him to be happy.”
Brendon pauses, eyeing him carefully. “Do you want the kid?”
Spencer has asked himself the same question many times since he told Jon yes, and he thinks on some level, maybe he always has. He just didn’t realize it until Jon said it out loud.
“Yeah, I do,” he says after a minute, and Brendon’s grin widens and he knocks the air out of Spencer as he attacks him in a hug again.
“I call godfather!”
Spencer doesn’t tell him that he can’t call something like that but only because he’s struggling for air in Brendon’s vice grip.
*
Spencer pads down the staircase, fiddling with his jacket and smoothing down his jeans. The sun is setting out the window and Jagger is already whining by the front door as if he knows they’re not going to take him wherever they’re going. Spencer brushes his head once as he rounds the end of the banister and hears Jon talking on the phone in the living room.
“What do you mean you’re missing information? We gave Keltie all the forms last week.”
Spencer heads into the living room, finding Jon pacing in front of the couch as he talks on the phone.
“No! We made copies and we gave them to her. She said she’d put it in the system.” Jon sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair and Spencer edges over. He tries for Jon’s attention, but Jon is huffing into the phone. “So you have record that she dropped them off but you don’t have them? No, I didn’t fill them out wrong.”
He shakes his head, annoyed, and Spencer sneaks up beside him, getting Jon’s attention and tapping at his watch. Jon nods distractedly.
“Look, I sent in all the documents last week. I can make copies of them again but how do I know you’re not just going to lose them again?”
Spencer hasn’t heard Jon this agitated before and he just backs off, grabbing Jon’s jacket from the back of the armchair and urging Jon to put it on as he switches the phone around to keep it to his ear.
“Yes, fine, I’ll come in on Monday. In the meantime, can you look again? Because I swear it’s there.”
Jon makes a few more noises before he sighs and hangs up. Rolling his head back, he groans at the ceiling.
“What?” Spencer asks forebodingly.
“Just people losing files,” Jon mutters, obviously frustrated, but he sighs again and glances at Spencer, scanning down his jacket and nice-fitting jeans. He smiles after a second. “You look nice.”
“Thank you,” Spencer replies, reaching for Jon’s hand and pulling him towards the door. “Now come on before we miss our reservations.”
“So impatient,” Jon jokes. “How about next year we just stay in with pizza?”
Spencer arches a skeptical eyebrow and Jon laughs.
“Don’t worry. You’ll always be better than pizza.”
“Good answer,” Spencer says as Jon leans in and kisses him softly. “Now we should go.” He pulls Jon a little further, letting go as he nudges Jagger away from the door. Glancing back, he catches Jon giving the phone a frown, and pulls Jon to him, noses brushing together. “Forget about the paperwork for tonight. It’ll still be lost tomorrow. I won’t let anything ruin this.”
Spencer kisses Jon long and slow, and Jon presses back, licking into his mouth slowly until Spencer jerks back.
“The reservations,” he reminds Jon, and Jon hums quietly.
“They’ll still be there in a minute.”
“Jon,” Spencer says, leaning back when Jon tries to move in again. “Come on.”
“Oh, okay,” Jon says, sighing heavily. “But I want a dessert tonight.”
“You’ll get dessert,” Spencer promises him with a smirk over his shoulder as he twists open the doorknob and heads to the car. Jon laughs slightly, grabbing the car keys and following him out.
Part Three -->
*
Everything is decorated in yellow and green even though they know it’s a boy. Greta talks about it happily as they all help themselves to cake and play the stomach-measuring game.
“Can I pick the name?” Brendon asks excitedly and Spencer rolls his eyes.
“It’s their kid,” he points out to Brendon, who just shrugs.
“They could want help.”
Greta smiles at the two of them as she sits down on the couch with a little difficulty. She’s a hefty seven months pregnant, and Jon is right there to help her down. She just sets a hand over her large stomach, practically glowing with happiness.
The presents are piled on the coffee table and there is cake and sandwiches on the kitchen counter. The yellow and green balloons are hitting Spencer no matter where he turns and he’s a second away from popping a few just so he can find his way to a chair.
Jon slides up beside Spencer, a hand snaking around his waist as he smiles at Greta.
“Help is always welcome,” Greta replies finally. “Bob and I were trying to come up with names but there are so many.”
“See?” Brendon says pointedly to Spencer, who rolls his eyes.
“Sometimes I swear you’re still a baby,” Spencer replies and Brendon scoffs, bouncing over to the couch with Greta and placing his ear to her stomach.
“You know babies can hear what you’re saying?” he says. “So you shouldn’t insult me in front of it.”
Spencer just sighs, shaking his head, and Brendon grins triumphantly.
Greta doesn’t look bothered by Brendon practically cooing at her bump. She just takes the punch someone hands her and looks at Jon and Spencer.
“Bob’s been so great,” she says with a contented sigh. “He’s already bought a ton of stuff for the nursery and he’s working on a surprise that he won’t let me see.”
“How are you decorating it?” Jon asks interestedly, and Spencer glances at him curiously. Jon isn’t usually this interested in baby stuff.
“Bob wants to do a music motif,” Greta says, “but I was thinking maybe something more to do with nature. It could be soft and pretty and whimsical.”
“Sounds like you guys,” Spencer mutters and Greta laughs.
“Yes, Spencer, I know whimsical isn’t exactly your tastes what with all that math you deal with,” she says warmly even as Spencer frowns.
“I like whimsical,” Spencer argues but Brendon laughs loudly, almost derisively. Spencer turns an unimpressed glare on him but it doesn’t work because Brendon has known him far too long to be affected by any Spencer Smith bitchglares. “Jon, tell them.”
Jon shrugs slightly. “You… have a unicorn shirt,” he says slowly and Spencer sighs. Brendon keeps laughing and Jon leans in, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Sorry.”
“Never mind,” Spencer mutters, and Greta gets distracted when Sisky suggests opening presents and shoves his and Butcher’s into her hands first.
There are picture frames, some of those god awful onesies, things Spencer doesn’t even want to know what they do, baby toys - including Spencer’s green rabbit that Greta makes an ‘aww’ face at - and a few blankets that look really soft. Greta unwraps it all, exclaiming excitedly over each new thing, and Spencer can’t help but think how great of a mom she’s going to be.
Jon is standing next to him, hand still firmly around his waist, warm and comforting, and Spencer likes this. He’s pretty sure he could stay like this forever with Jon, just knowing Jon is there beside him, and he knows Jon is smiling as Greta unwraps more presents and Brendon ‘ooh’s along with her.
He hears Jon sigh, breath tickling his neck, but Spencer doesn’t squirm, and Jon’s hand tightens against his waist for a second.
“I want a kid,” Jon says, voice soft and quiet under the noise from the rest of the party, but Spencer still hears him. His eyes widen slightly and he tries not to stiffen in Jon’s arms, and Jon just keeps watching Greta unwrap presents while Brendon and Sisky argue over which is a better name: Roberto or Francis.
-
Jon pauses at the landing, facing a closed, white door. He doesn’t remember the last time the door was opened. Probably not since at least two weeks ago when they’d gotten the call and rushed out the door. Jon doesn’t open it now, turning and walking past two other closed doors, passing the framed photographs on the wall - there are some of him and Spencer, a few of Spencer and Brendon, Jon, Tom and Ryan all together, even one with Brendon hanging on to Ryan. Ryan looks sort of annoyed, but he always seems to be when Brendon is around. Jon passes all these photographs as he reaches the fourth closed door.
He doesn’t knock as he stands outside of it. He’s pretty sure he knows what he’ll find on the other side, and he waits.
The house is silent around him. He hears the distant bark of Jagger in the backyard, probably chasing Clover up a tree. The rain dribbles down the window at the end of the hall, the one that overlooks the front driveway where Jon’s car is still parked since there hasn’t been room in the garage for months, not since they started this.
Bracing himself, Jon pushes the door open carefully. The scrape on the carpet seems loud in the silence and Jon pauses before he pushes it open all the way.
The lights are off and it’s dim inside the room. The rain outside is now a steady drizzle, grey light filtering in through the windows. The curtains are still pushed back from when Jon got up that morning and went downstairs to find Spencer already gone for work.
He steps inside slowly, glancing around. The room is big, which was what Jon had loved so much about it when they bought the house. There’s room enough for the king size bed, two chests of drawers, bedside tables, and there’s a nook that overlooks the side yard, big enough for two chairs and a small bookcase. The master bathroom is open and airy with a skylight and a big walk-in closet. Jon loves this room about as much as Spencer loves the kitchen.
The bathroom door is open but Jon bypasses it, gaze falling on the bed. It’s perfectly made up, made up in a way that Jon never bothers and Spencer doesn’t usually either.
Lying on the side closest to the nook is Spencer. He has his back to Jon and hasn’t moved since Jon pushed open the door.
Moving over, Jon doesn’t crawl on the bed with Spencer. Instead, he sort of sinks down, sitting on the edge and glancing around the room. There’s not much to look at aside from the mess of loose change and his old watch on the nightstand. Everything else has been meticulously cleaned and organized. He looks at Spencer last, but Spencer hasn’t moved or even made a noise.
Jon isn’t sure what Spencer is thinking, but then, he hasn’t been sure of much lately, and it’s killing him.
The rain pitter-pats on the window and there’s a distant roll of thunder in the distance. Jon hopes vaguely that Clover has made it through the cat door inside. For a moment, Jon just watches the way Spencer breathes, slowly in and out, shoulders moving, barely visible, with each breath. He used to do this when they first moved in together and he’d wake up before Spencer, just watch him breathe.
“I don’t know what to do,” he says finally, voice soft and he can’t help the defeat that seeps into his words. He watches Spencer, and Spencer doesn’t respond. “I don’t know what to say, Spencer. I don’t know how to make this better. I don’t know what’s wrong, and I hate that you’re so unhappy.” He pauses, exhaling tiredly. He just feels tired all the time lately like no amount of sleep with change anything. It’s a tiredness that soaks into his body, making it hard to do even normal things like make coffee in the morning. “Should we call Keltie?”
The rain is getting harder now, the sky growing darker with each passing moment, and Jon doesn’t turn on any of the lamps in the room. He doesn’t scoot further on the bed, but remains at the edge, tracing the patterns of the quilt, the one his mother had spent a year sewing and gave to them for their first Christmas together.
Spencer finally moves, just a small shift, and Jon looks over.
“I think she already knows,” Spencer says quietly, and he sounds normal, not as though he wants to kill Jon or himself.
“Not about that,” Jon says, smoothing over a nonexistent crease in the quilt. “About…”
He doesn’t finish and he doesn’t have to as Spencer moves now, rolling over onto his back and staring at Jon. Spencer’s expression is hard to make out for a minute as he stares, and then he shakes his head a little, eyebrows coming down while a worried panic sparks in his eyes as Jon looks away.
“Again?” Spencer’s voice wavers on the singular word and Jon almost wants to take it back just so he never has to hear Spencer like that again. “Jon, I-I don’t know if I can do this again.”
It hurts a lot more to hear Spencer say it, but Jon knows he has a very valid point. Jon’s almost not sure he can either. He keeps smoothing down the quilt even though his hand has started to shake. Jon never thought this would happen and he never had a plan for if it did.
“Jon,” Spencer says finally, reaching for Jon’s hand, and he pulls Jon over. Jon climbs on to the bed properly now, lying down beside Spencer, and Spencer doesn’t roll into him, just keeps ahold of his wrist and drops his gaze. “I’m sorry… for earlier.”
“It’s okay,” Jon says, and he feels more tired than ever as he lays there next to Spencer, listening to the rain outside.
“No, it’s not okay,” Spencer replies, insists, sounding just as tired as Jon feels. “I was… I don’t know what I was being. A bitch, maybe, or stupid. I can’t tell anymore.” He sounds dejected and Jon squeezes his eyes shut for a second.
“I know it hurts,” Jon says finally, opening his eyes and glancing at Spencer, who looks away, biting his lip. “It fucking sucks and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like a little part of me, a part I didn’t even really have to begin with, has been ripped away and there’s a just a gaping hole where it’s supposed to be. You know?”
Spencer nods after a second, and Jon thinks he sees his bottom lip tremble before Spencer bites down on it.
“Maybe it’s too soon,” Jon murmurs after a minute, sliding his wrist from Spencer’s grip and reaching for his hand instead.
“Maybe it’s fate trying to tell us something,” Spencer says a few minutes later, in between the rain on the window and the creak of the door as Clover pushes it open and winds inside. Something deep inside Jon throbs when Spencer says it, and he doesn’t want to hear it.
“Screw fate,” he whispers and Spencer looks over, a fear in his eyes that Jon doesn’t like. “I want to do this, Spencer. I’ve wanted to do this pretty much since I saw you looking at camera cases that day in the store. I don’t want you to give up, and I know that sounds stupid considering the last six months, but I don’t. I don’t want to.”
Spencer stares at Jon, looking scared and broken all at the same time, but he finally turns, curling up into Jon, and Jon slides his arms around Spencer, letting Spencer burrow into his chest, fingers twining into his tee shirt.
“Third time’s the charm?” Spencer mumbles a minute later, breathing in Jon’s scent deeply, and he doesn’t really sound hopeful, but Jon just hugs him tighter, pressing a kiss to his temple and closing his eyes.
“God, I hope so,” he mutters as the thunder rolls in the distance.
-
“He actually said he wanted to have kids? He told you that?” Brendon’s beer bottle is hanging limply in his hand as he leans forward over his coffee table, staring at Spencer, who takes a sip of his own beer and makes a face.
“He didn’t tell me it,” Spencer replies truthfully. “But he said it.”
Brendon sits back against the couch, ignoring one of his dogs which has been not-so-slyly munching on dropped popcorn kernels throughout the movie. They haven’t been watching the movie most of the time anyway. First, they’d exhausted the topic of Ryan Ross and the pros and cons of calling him back.
Spencer doesn’t really understand their relationship and he isn’t about to analyze it with Brendon. He has his own problems to worry about.
He is twenty-six years old and he’s known Jon not even two years yet, and it probably shouldn’t surprise him that Jon has thought about these things, but Spencer never has.
“What did you tell him?” Brendon asks, pulling the popcorn bag back from where the dog’s nose has been buried in it.
Spencer shrugs, setting his feet up on the coffee table and draining the last of his beer. “Nothing. I don’t even know if he was being serious.”
“Shouldn’t you ask him, then?”
Spencer frowns and sets down his bottle with a clunk. “Shouldn’t you ask Ryan if you’re more than just fuck-buddies?”
“Why ruin a good thing?” Brendon retorts, waving a finger at Spencer. “And you’re getting all defensive. Why won’t you ask him?”
Scowling, Spencer crosses his arms and wishes the most he had to deal with is grading final exams and dealing with stupid students who give flimsy excuses as to why they’re failing. Spencer has very little sympathy for any of them.
He doesn’t want to ask Jon because it’s just opening a can of worms and he doesn’t want to deal with the clean-up. Nothing good can come from it.
“Did I ever say I wanted kids?” Spencer asks instead and Brendon shrugs, petting the dog now flopped in his lap. “How would that even work? We’re not married. We don’t have a lesbian friend we can get pregnant.”
“You watched Queer as Folk again, didn’t you?”
“Brendon!”
“Okay, okay,” Brendon says quickly, sitting up and the dog snuffles. “It’s totally possible, you know, without the lesbian. Who says it has to be your kid?”
“What?” Spencer is confused and Brendon is not helping.
He’s tried not to think about it since Jon murmured it at Greta’s baby shower. Jon hasn’t mentioned it again, but Spencer is pretty sure Jon thinks about it. He certainly does now.
A kid isn’t something Spencer ever really considered. Ever since he’d discovered he liked guys a lot more than girls, children have been the last thing on his mind. It never occurred to him that Jon might want one. He’s happy with Jon, though, happy with their situation. They have a nice house, a few pets, good jobs, and Spencer doesn’t really need anything else.
Brendon never responds to his question as his phone goes off with a text message and he snatches it from the table.
“Booty call?” Spencer drawls when Brendon smiles at the message and flips the phone shut.
“Ryan’s dirty,” he replies, and that is definitely more than Spencer needs to know.
*
Spencer is not thinking about how, if they had a kid, they wouldn’t be able to do this when Jon bites at his shoulder blade and Spencer comes, hot and sticky on Jon’s hand while Jon pushes in from behind. Spencer’s wrists are bound to the headboard and he can feel Jon deep inside him, pushing in harder while Spencer pants for breath.
“Fuck, Jon,” he manages to whisper just before Jon comes with a groan, mouth pressed against Spencer’s spine, tongue tracing the line down his back as Jon’s hips slow and Spencer closes his eyes.
His heart is thudding when Jon finally pulls out, pressing kisses up his back and pausing on the dark red mark on his shoulder. He runs a gentle finger over it before scooting up and reaching for the ties around Spencer’s wrists.
Spencer slides down onto the bed, sated and tired, but something in his stomach jumps a little when Jon scoots in beside him, brushing his hair away from his face.
“Are you okay, Spence?” Jon asks after a second, and Spencer glances at him. Jon is just watching him calmly, and Spencer smiles slightly.
“Yeah, of course,” he says, leaning in and kissing Jon slowly. He loves the way Jon kisses after sex, so soft and slow like that’s all they need to do.
Jon is still watching him when he pulls away. “You’ve been acting kind of weird since the shower. Did something happen?”
“No,” Spencer replies, trying to dismiss the way his mind immediately flits to Jon’s words, I want a kid.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, fuck, I’m sure,” Spencer says, probably a little too hard because now Jon is watching him, an eyebrow furrowed. Spencer looks away after a second, huffing slightly and sitting up. His clothes are scattered around the room and outside, Spencer can see the Christmas lights decorating the neighbor’s house. There’s a gaudy Santa Clause and reindeer on top of their roof and Spencer wonders if it would be too bitchy to go to the homeowner’s association about it.
Jon sits up after a minute too, reaching for Spencer’s wrist and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the skin lightly.
“Is it work?”
“No, it’s not work. I-I…” Spencer doesn’t finish, swinging his legs off the bed and grabbing the first pair of boxers he sees. He doesn’t really want to talk to Jon about this because he doesn’t know how it would end.
Instead, he heads for the door and goes downstairs. In the living room, Jagger is sleeping on the couch and jumps off when he hears Spencer. Spencer eyes him suspiciously. Jagger knows better than to get on the furniture. But the dog is just wagging his tail as Spencer approaches.
“Go outside,” Spencer tells him, opening the sliding glass door and feeling the chilly breeze sweep in. It’s too cold to be wearing only a pair of boxers in the house, but Spencer doesn’t want to get more clothes. Jagger prances out the door and Spencer shuts it behind him, rubbing his arms a little.
The Christmas tree in the living room is decorated from head to toe with a multi-colored star sitting on the top. It lights up when the rest of the tree is plugged in, but it’s still light out, so it’s not on. He heads into the kitchen, rummaging in the cupboard for the cocoa mix and starts heating the water. He hears Jagger bark twice outside but then it’s silent except for the teapot on the stove.
He hears when Jon enters the kitchen, hears him pause in the doorway and sigh. Spencer hates when Jon sighs like that, like he knows something is wrong but can’t figure it out. It makes Spencer feel guilty somehow.
The teapot starts to whistle and Spencer takes it off the stove, pouring it into his mug with the cocoa powder. He doesn’t say anything as he stirs and when he turns to find the marshmallows, Jon is already there with the package.
“Spence, what’s wrong?” Jon asks as Spencer takes the package and opens it.
“I told you-”
“Nothing, I know,” Jon interrupts. “But you just came downstairs in your boxers when it’s barely fifty degrees outside, and there’s a warm, cozy bed upstairs with a loving boyfriend in it. So forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
Sighing, Spencer adds three large marshmallows to his mug. They barely fit and bumble against each other as Spencer stirs the hot chocolate.
There’s not much to it as Spencer pauses. He’s going to have to bring it up. Turning from the counter, he faces Jon, crossing his arms over his chest, and taking in Jon’s confused expression.
“Do you want kids, Jon?”
Jon looks surprised and almost smiles. “What?”
“You said you wanted a kid,” Spencer replies. “At Greta’s shower. You said you wanted one.”
Jon’s expression is still confused but now more concerned as Spencer frowns, arms still crossed tightly.
“Spencer, no. I don’t want a kid right now.”
“But eventually,” Spencer asks carefully. “You want a kid.”
Jon shrugs, and it’s enough of an answer for Spencer, and he bites his lip, turning back to his cocoa. He doesn’t really know if the answer changes anything.
“I don’t get what’s wrong,” Jon says after a minute. “Do you not want kids?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer says finally. “I never really thought about it, I mean, especially since it’s not like either one of us can have one.”
“Well-”
“You know what I mean,” Spencer interrupts, blowing on his cocoa while Jon stands behind him silently.
“We wouldn’t have to do a surrogate,” Jon says finally and Spencer pauses. He doesn’t want to know how much Jon has thought about this. “There are other ways.”
Spencer frowns slightly, looking at Jon. “But you think we’re ready for a kid? We haven’t even reached our second anniversary yet.”
“Some people don’t even know each other that long when they get married.”
“That’s called a shotgun wedding, Jon,” Spencer points out sharply, chewing on a marshmallow. “We’re not sixteen and pregnant.”
“I bet there are a lot of girls who are,” Jon replies simply. “And their kids need loving homes.”
“You mean adoption?” Spencer asks cautiously. From what he’s heard, adoption is a lengthy, stressful process.
“Yeah,” Jon says, stepping up to Spencer slowly. “But don’t worry, Spence. There isn’t any sort of pressure or anything. Things will happen when they happen and if you’re not ready or not sure, you know, just think about it.”
Jon kisses Spencer slowly and Spencer sets down his mug on the counter as Jon give him another light peck.
“But you do want a kid?” he asks again when Jon pulls back. He sees the way Jon sort of huffs quietly, but smiles at Spencer.
“I’m happy with you,” he just says, kissing Spencer’s nose and heading for the fridge. “Hey, make me some hot chocolate and we’ll watch old Christmas movies all night?”
Spencer doesn’t reply as Jon flashes him a grin and heads for the living room. Instead, he sighs and turns to the teapot, shaking it and listening to the water rattle.
*
Christmas morning, Spencer is shaken awake too early and dragged downstairs where he smiles resignedly when Jon just grins at him and hands him a present to open.
They have cinnamon rolls and hot apple cider and turn on the electric fireplace for only the third time ever. Clover plays in the wrapping paper and Jagger is busy devouring his Christmas bone. Christmas music drifts from the stereo system and Spencer doesn’t stop Jon from pinning him against the carpet in front of the fireplace and giving him a slow, leisurely blow job.
If they had a kid, they couldn’t do this, Spencer thinks for a split second before his mind goes fuzzy and he’s mumbling about how much he loves Jon’s mouth.
Afterwards, Spencer clears away the wrapping paper, except for a few strands of ribbon which he leaves for Clover’s amusement. Jon is playing tug-of-war with Jagger and the now-slimy bone, but he grins brightly at Spencer as Spencer stuffs paper into a box and shoves it in the corner.
“I’m gonna go start dinner stuff,” Spencer says, stacking a few of the new DVDs on the coffee table and Jon abandons his game with the dog, struggling up and pulling Spencer to him unexpectedly.
“You know this is always exactly how I wanted my life to turn out?” he asks and Spencer can’t help smiling, small and flushed.
“I’m glad,” he says in the end, and Jon kisses him lightly.
“Are you making pie for tonight?” Jon asks eagerly and Spencer laughs, pushing him away.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” And he saunters into the kitchen, thinking that this is exactly how he always wanted his life to turn out too.
*
Christmas dinner is too many people crammed into their house but Spencer doesn’t mind because everyone is smiling and happy to be there. There’s Sisky and the Butcher, Tom, Ryan and Brendon, though they insist they didn’t come together, Pete, who brought his own piece of mistletoe and is trying to get everyone to kiss him, and even Bob and Greta, who have shown up with little Reese, who is barely a month old. They’re careful to keep his basket covered in case he scares easily, but they all take turns taking a peek at the little baby.
Jagger is so hyped up at all the company that they have to put him in the backyard to stop him from barking and jumping on everyone he sees. Clover darts upstairs the moment the first doorbell rings and doesn’t come down the rest of the night.
Spencer is busy in the kitchen while Jon plays the host with the rest of the guests, but Spencer isn’t surprised when Brendon slips into the kitchen alone and tries to eat some of the food before it’s done.
“Hey!” Spencer reprimands sharply as Brendon swipes a cookie from one of the plates. Spencer has made multiple desserts and he won’t let Brendon ruin any of them.
Brendon ignores him, leaning up against the counter and glancing around at the kitchen. Every surface has some sort of food on it.
“Are you cooking for the apocalypse?” Brendon asks and Spencer ignores him, checking the ham in the oven. Brendon isn’t bothered when Spencer doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns around, propping his elbows on the counter. “So Ryan’s here?”
“Yeah,” Spencer says obviously, heading for the pantry and rummaging for plates. He pauses when Brendon doesn’t reply. Turning back, his eyes narrow. “Don’t even think about defacing one of our rooms.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Brendon replies with a scoff, but he looks almost intrigued at the thought. “Besides, we broke up.”
“Which time?” Spencer scoffs, stacking the plates on the counter and arching an eyebrow at Brendon.
Brendon and Ryan have been “dating” on and off for almost a year, if they can even call it that. Someone says something about the other and they “break up” but almost always, a week or two later, they’re fucking in Ryan’s office or on Brendon’s couch.
“He said I was clingy,” Brendon says, clearly disbelieving. “I’m not the one who can’t stop touching my ass.”
“Too much information,” Spencer says loudly. “I don’t tell you about Jon and I.”
“Yeah, what do you guys do?” Brendon asks, eyes sparking eagerly, and Spencer glares.
“I’m not telling you.”
“I’m your best friend,” Brendon says matter-of-factly, and Spencer rolls his eyes slightly. Brendon uses that excuse at least once a day. “And you’ve been dating Jon for almost two years. And you never tell me anything. Is he good in bed? He must be if it’s been this long. Does he have any special tricks? Ooh! What about his hands? I bet he’s really good with his hands, right?”
Spencer just glares and hands Brendon a stack of plates.
“Go set the table,” he tells him instead and Brendon grins.
“It is his hands, isn’t it?” he asks and Spencer just gives him a push out into the dining room.
Sighing, he rubs his forehead and turns back to his food, rearranging the cookies to cover up where Brendon stole one.
“He’s quite the handful, isn’t he?”
Spencer turns at Greta’s voice. She’s standing in the doorway, tucking a piece of her curly, blond hair behind her ear. She’s smiling but she looks tired.
“You’d never know he’s almost twenty-six,” Spencer mutters instead, checking the oven again. The ham is almost ready and Spencer wonders what he’s forgotten to do. He glances at Greta. “How’s the baby and everything? I hear you don’t get to sleep much the first few months.”
Greta smiles, coming over and helping Spencer as he rummages for silverware. “It’s been an adjustment,” she allows, which Spencer takes to mean that, no, you don’t get any sleep. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“Well, Reese is adorable,” Spencer says dutifully and Greta pats his arm.
“Thank you,” she says graciously.
She leaves the kitchen with the silverware and Spencer only has to deal with Pete once trying to dangle the mistletoe over his head before the ham is done and everyone is sitting down to dinner.
“You are amazing,” Jon only says when Spencer sets the last of the food on the table and takes his seat. There’s so much food on the table that it might be in danger of collapsing, but everyone is seated around it, and it feels so ridiculously clichéd that Spencer just can’t help smiling.
Ryan and Brendon are at the other end of the table, carefully not looking at each other while Ryan talks to Pete about music and Brendon fusses over baby Reese whose basket is on the floor next to Greta’s chair. Greta is practically glowing even if she looks tired, and she uncovers the basket for a moment as Brendon coos at the baby. Spencer can see Ryan looking at Brendon from the corner of his eye.
The baby is cute, Spencer will admit, with his tiny toes and fingers, his hair that is almost the same color as his skin. He catches Jon smiling goofily in that direction for a moment before he takes the plate Sisky passes to him. Something in Spencer’s stomach flutters wildly for a second when Jon passes him the plate, and he looks away.
Dinner goes smoothly and there are toasts made to Greta and Bob and Reese, to Spencer’s food, even to the dog and maybe they’ve all had a bit too much wine at that point. Spencer brings out the multitudes of desserts and isn’t surprised when Jon pulls him over, grinning against his mouth as he says, “You did make pie.”
“You love pie,” Spencer replies simply and Jon’s grin widens as he pecks Spencer’s lips.
“I do,” he agrees, settling down and serving himself the first slice.
Greta is watching them from down the table, smiling to herself, and Spencer catches her eye once as the desserts are passed around. He doesn’t know what to make of her look and doesn’t ask her about it later, just hands Jon the whipped cream.
Ryan is still covertly watching Brendon after they’ve abandoned the table and gathered in the living room, Pete trying unsuccessfully to start singing Christmas carols. They toast more and exchange a few extra gifts before the guests start to trickle home.
Sisky and the Butcher go first since they have to go to Sisky’s parents’ house in the morning. Sisky hugs Spencer and tells him he’s lucky for everything he has. Spencer doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just hugs Sisky back and waves when he leaves.
Brendon finally returns one of Ryan’s not-so-subtle looks near the end of the night, and Spencer doesn’t even have to be told to know where Ryan’s going tonight, although Brendon does whisper it to him as he’s getting his coat.
“Clingy, my ass,” Brendon scoffs, pulling on his coat and sneaking a glance at Ryan, who looks away quickly, having been caught staring. Brendon smirks at Spencer. “He’ll be-”
“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Spencer interrupts and Brendon just laughs.
“Merry Christmas, Spence,” he just says and Spencer lets them both go. If Ryan tries to leave five minutes later, it’s more like three.
Pete leaves not too long after, looking disappointed that no one kissed him, and Tom just sighs heavily and grabs him, planting a short and obviously annoyed kiss on his mouth. Pete looks significantly happier after that even if Tom wipes his mouth and asks Greta for the number of a girl, any girl.
Greta and Bob are last, which surprises Spencer. He thought they’d be first, but Reese starts to fuss and Greta is immediately up from where she was dozing on the couch.
“We should go,” she says, glancing at Bob, who is already getting their coats.
Jon moves over, peering down at Reese again and smiling. Spencer lingers back, watching Jon tickle the baby’s feet.
“Can I babysit?” Jon asks and Spencer’s stomach does a little unexpected lurch even though it shouldn’t surprise him.
“Anytime you want,” Bob accepts graciously. “Seriously.”
Greta rolls her eyes, smiling, and pulls on the coat Bob hands her. “We’d love it if you two want to spend time with Reese. You can be his favorite uncles.”
Jon is practically beaming and Spencer doesn’t really know why he feels so funny. She covers the baby back up and waves to Spencer. He waves back after a second.
After they’re gone, Jon comes over and collapses on the couch. It’s late and the sun has set hours ago. Most of the kitchen is clean already, so Spencer doesn’t fight it when Jon grabs his wrist and tugs him down on the couch with him.
“I love Christmas,” Jon says after a second, hugging Spencer to him and kissing the top of his head lightly. Spencer doesn’t reply, thinking of Jon’s face as he’d looked at Reese, the smile there. “Wasn’t Reese so cute? I wonder if they’ll have another kid. You know what we should do?”
Spencer glances up but doesn’t ask. Instead, he snuggles into Jon, squeezing his thigh lightly.
“We should find Tom a girlfriend.”
“You don’t think he wants to date Pete after that kiss?” Spencer jokes and Jon laughs. Spencer feels relieved to hear it.
“No,” Jon disagrees. “He probably wants to scrub his mouth out.”
Spencer smiles, sighing tiredly. It’s been a long day.
“But maybe if Tom got married, he’d have a kid. And we could be godparents.”
Spencer pauses, listening to the faint scratching of Jagger at the back door and Christmas music still playing softly on the stereo. He’s beginning to see what Jon wants and he doesn’t know what to say to it. He’s never really put much thought into it.
“Yeah,” he says instead, squeezing Jon’s thigh comfortingly and closing his eyes, listening to Jon’s heartbeat thud strong and steady beneath his ear.
*
The thing Spencer loves most about his job is that he still gets school vacations. He gets three months in the summer, four days for Thanksgiving, a week in the spring, and almost a month at Christmas. Usually he spends the time hanging out with Brendon, watching movies, going shopping, or just vegging at home, trying out new recipes, catching up on things he’s supposed to be reading.
This winter break, though, Spencer spends the days while Jon is at work dragging his laptop downstairs and putting in a movie on the TV. He doesn’t watch the movie, though, and feels almost as if he’s doing something he shouldn’t when he pulls up his internet browser. The dog is flopped at his feet, paws twitching, and Clover skirts around him carefully to jump up on the couch with Spencer.
Spencer hesitates then forces his fingers to type. The list of websites that come up all look normal and he clicks on one, reading the passage at the top.
Interested in adoption? Look no further! Our site provides a comprehensive guide to what will become the most enriching experience of your life!
It’s too peppy and Spencer frowns, glancing up sharply at a noise, but it’s just the movie. Telling himself to relax, he flips through a couple websites, reading more and more.
He’s never considered adoption. It always seems like adoption is for couples who can’t have children, or celebrities who want to prove how giving they are. It’s not for someone like Spencer who is content with his job and his boyfriend. They have a dog and a cat. That’s enough children for him.
But then he thinks of Jon and how he smiles when he talks about Reese. He thinks about what Jon said, just those few weeks ago - I’m happy with you… Just think about it.
Jon’s not pushing but Jon never pushes. He always waits for Spencer to catch up somehow, as if Spencer always needs more time to catch up. Spencer is tired of being behind. He knows what Jon wants, but he doesn’t know how long Jon is willing to wait, and what if he isn’t?”
Spencer blinks unseeingly at the television as the thought hits him. It has never occurred to him that maybe Jon won’t wait forever. Maybe he’ll go find someone who wants a kid too. Maybe he’ll do it himself if no one else will.
No, that’s crazy, Spencer tells himself firmly. They’ve only been together two years. Jon isn’t going to leave him over this… is he?
By the time the movie is over, Spencer has completely freaked himself out, and he stands up, closing his laptop firmly on the many tabs talking about adoption. Shaking himself, he glances out the window.
It’s sunny outside but he knows it’s chilly. At his feet, Jagger stirs, looking up at him and wagging his tail knowingly.
“Let’s go for a run,” Spencer says, and Jagger scrambles up as if he knows exactly what Spencer said, and he’s prancing around excitedly as Spencer pulls on his shoes and a jacket.
Spencer clips on the leash and stands, casting only one glance at his closed laptop still sitting on the couch before he opens the front door and starts off down the driveway.
*
Spencer doesn’t really want to be there, but it isn’t as though he can say no and go home. All of their friends are there, and a lot more people that Spencer doesn’t know.
“Happy new year!” Pete yells, blowing a noisemaker in Spencer’s ear, and Spencer scowls.
Pete grins, setting a party hat on his head despite Spencer’s glare and crossed arms.
It’s Pete’s apartment and it’s decorated from head to toe in multicolored balloons and streamers. The television is on some lame concert-news-countdown thing and Spencer just wants to find Jon and go home. He hasn’t seen Jon, though, for a while and he’s had to endure the party alone.
“Cheer up!” Pete cries, patting Spencer on the back. “It’s a new year! Any resolutions?”
“To break all your noisemakers,” Spencer snaps, but Pete just blows it again pointedly. Spencer snatches at it but Pete dances out of reach, disappearing into the crowd.
Sighing, Spencer turns to the crowded living room, searching for anyone he knows, but he only sees Ryan in some distant corner and he really doesn’t want to have a discussion about the archaic tradition that is new years and trying to better oneself with a stupid promise made at midnight. Instead, he leaves his safe spot against the wall and weaves into the cluster of people.
Someone hands him a drink as he passes and he takes it gratefully. He needs it right now to stop him from punching the next person to blow on a noisemaker.
Pete’s kitchen is just as overflowing with people as the living room, but Spencer spots Jon through the crowd and stretches up. Jon is standing over by a counter, grinning stupidly at something. Frowning, Spencer pushes his way through and finally catches sight of Greta giving Jon a hug.
“-Have to get going,” he hears her say, covering up the baby basket. “I don’t want to scare Reese. And it’s late.”
Jon just nods, peeking under the blanket again and making a sound that Spencer usually makes faces at but instead, he feels sort of like melting into the floor. Greta hugs Jon before she weaves her way out of the apartment. Jon watches her go with almost a dreamy expression on his face, and if Spencer wasn’t absolutely sure that Jon was gay, he might think he had a thing for Greta… or maybe just Reese.
Turning away, Spencer doesn’t approach Jon. Instead, he tosses back the drink in his hand and swallows the lump in his throat as he makes it back to the living room.
Brendon practically jumps on him the moment he gets there, shouting something in his ear and hugging him tightly.
“How drunk are you?” Spencer chokes with Brendon’s arms around his neck. Brendon lets him go finally, grinning.
“Drunk enough to say that Ryan Ross is looking hot tonight and I know what I want for Christmas!” Brendon practically shouts it but no one hears over the rest of the noise. “But not drunk enough to ignore your face. You look sad.”
“I’m not sad,” Spencer says, like an automatic response.
“Yes, yes, you are,” Brendon corrects him easily. “Or if you’re not, then you’re thinking of something… I don’t know.” He laughs slightly then sighs. “What’s wrong, Spencer Smith?”
“Nothing,” Spencer replies firmly. He gives Brendon a little push. “Look, Ryan is over there. Why don’t you go molest him?”
Brendon arches an eyebrow but in the end doesn’t fight Spencer. He bumbles away and Spencer sighs, jumping when someone’s hands slide around his waist.
“Did I just hear you pawn Brendon off on Ryan?” Jon’s voice asks from behind him, sounding amused and slightly confused. “I thought you were against that whole union.”
Sighing, Spencer grabs another drink from a passing tray and tosses his back. “I’m not against it; I just don’t understand it.”
“You okay?” Jon asks instead, nuzzling Spencer’s neck, and Spencer feels a jolt in his stomach and he’s not sure why.
“Fine,” he replies, glancing at the clock. They have about ten minutes until midnight and Pete is hurrying around, trying to find someone to kiss. Spencer doubts Tom will do it again if Tom staying on the completely opposite room and pretending to be in deep conversation with some brown-haired girl is any indication.
Jon doesn’t reply, pressing kisses to his neck, like he knows Spencer wants to leave but they have to stay.
“Jon,” Spencer says finally, and Jon pauses in his kisses, pressing his nose to Spencer’s jaw.
“Hmm?”
“Do you really want a kid?”
There’s a pause, and Spencer can feel his heart beating against his ribs. Then Jon sighs quietly, just a huff of breath over his neck.
“I told you, Spence-”
“Yeah, I know what you said, but-” Spencer turns around in Jon’s grip and looks at him, frowning slightly. “But you do. I see you with Reese. You wish he was yours. You want a kid.”
Jon sighs again, a little more frustrated this time. “Spence, I didn’t say I wanted one right now. You’re not ready, I know. We’ve never even really talked about it.”
Spencer is quiet for a minute. They haven’t really talked about it, and until about four months ago, he hadn’t even thought about it.
“No, we haven’t,” he agrees quietly, and Jon slides his hands up Spencer’s arms.
“It’s not a time-sensitive issue. I can wait.”
“How long can you wait?” Spencer asks, eyes flicking to Jon’s, unsure, and Jon pauses before pulling Spencer into a hug. His arms wrap, warm and firm, around his shoulders and Spencer slips his hands against Jon’s waist.
“I’d wait forever for you,” Jon says seriously, muttering into Spencer’s hair, and Spencer’s stomach unclenches as a thrill runs through it.
“I… I want to do it,” Spencer mumbles finally, voice quiet under the noise from the partygoers and he knows Jon didn’t hear when Jon smoothes a hand down his back and says, “What?”
Pulling back, Spencer knows this is his chance to take it back, but if he doesn’t do it now, he might never, and he knows how badly Jon wants this, and he wants Jon to be happy. He wants to be happy.
“I want to do it,” Spencer repeats calmly and waits as Jon’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open a little.
“Do what?” he asks, as if unsure, and Spencer huffs a little.
“Have a kid, a-adopt a kid, I don’t know,” he mumbles uselessly, a flutter of nerves batting in his stomach as he watches Jon. “Jon?”
Jon stares at Spencer for a second longer before shaking his head. “Are you serious, Spencer? Because we don’t have to.”
“No, I want to,” Spencer says again, and it’s a little stronger each time. “I think… I do. With you.”
Jon laughs then, once, a huff of air as he stares at Spencer and his mouth spreads into a grin.
“I-I can’t believe this,” he breathes finally, eyes sparkling, and Spencer lets out a breath. He’s surprised when Jon pulls him forward into a hard kiss and Spencer smiles into it.
“Hey, it’s not midnight yet!” Pete’s voice breaks them apart, but Spencer just flips him off and leans into Jon again.
*
The walls are too cheery and Spencer whispers it to Jon as they step into the reception area. Jon laughs, slipping an arm around Spencer’s waist and stepping forward, ignoring the yellow walls plastered with hand-drawn pictures. Behind the secretary’s desk, there is a photo board stuffed full of pictures of couples and newborn babies.
Spencer arches a skeptical eyebrow, but Jon is stepping up to the desk.
“Hi,” he greets the woman there and she looks up with a smile, fingers clacking at the computer.
“What can I do for you?” she asks, and Jon pulls Spencer forward. Spencer goes reluctantly. The place sort of freaks him out even if he knows they have to be there.
“We have an appointment with Ms. Colleen,” Jon replies and the woman clacks at her computer some more.
“Jon Walker and Spencer Smith?” the woman asks and Jon nods. Spencer jerks his head, glancing around at the waves painted as trim around the top of the walls. He feels sort of like he fell into a preschool, a badly decorate preschool. Their nursery is not going to look like this, he decides. “Have a seat. She’ll be down in a minute.”
Spencer makes a face at the obscenely bright red chairs and sinks into one as Jon shifts nervously, switching the folder he’s holding from hand to hand.
It’s been two months since they decided they would do adoption, and since then Jon has been nothing but focused. He’s the one who found the agency, who called Ms. Colleen and got the documents they needed to fill out. He’s the one who’s ready for this. Spencer is just trying to keep up and not freak out.
When Jon switches hands again, tapping the folder nervously, Spencer reaches out for his wrist.
“Jon, relax,” he says and Jon stops, forcing a smile.
“Sorry, I’m just nervous and kind of excited.” He sinks down into the chair next to Spencer. He lets Spencer twine their fingers together. “I just hope everything is okay.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Spencer asks and Jon doesn’t reply, glancing down at the folder in his hands.
They haven’t talked about it, the things that could go wrong. Spencer has been trying so hard to focus on what will go right. The truth is, though, that they’re not married, and even if their two year anniversary is just around the corner, that doesn’t mean much to a prospective birth mother. She chooses them not the other way around.
They haven’t told anyone they’re doing this, not yet. Spencer wants to be sure it’s happening before anyone gets too excited or starts asking annoying questions that he doesn’t have the answer to yet. He knows Jon is just bursting to tell people, but he’s restraining himself on Spencer’s behalf, and Spencer doesn’t have to be told to know how lucky he is.
“Mr. Walker? Mr. Smith?” A voice breaks Spencer from his thoughts and he looks up to find a petite, blonde-haired woman standing to the side of the receptionist’s desk. She’s holding a similar-looking folder to her chest and smiles as they rise. “Hello, I’m Keltie Colleen.”
“Yeah,” Jon says quickly, and Spencer smiles fondly at his enthusiasm. “I’m Jon. We talked on the phone and you sent me all the initial paperwork.”
“Yes, I remember,” Keltie says with a smile. “Why don’t you come back to my office?”
It’s not quite as obnoxiously cheery in the back maze of offices which Spencer is glad for. They follow Keltie to a larger office and she stands back to let them in first, closing the door behind them.
“Have a seat,” she says, offering the two chairs facing her desk.
Spencer can tell Jon is nervous as he sits down, shifting the folder around, and Spencer takes the other chair, sliding a reassuring hand onto Jon’s leg. Jon shoots him a small smile as Keltie rounds the desk and takes the other chair, folding her hands on top and looking between them.
“So, you are interested in adoption?” she asks, and Jon nods.
“Yeah. We think it’d be really great. I’ve always wanted kids.”
Keltie nods, glancing at Spencer again like she can tell he’s not quite as excited.
“I have to let you know,” she says fairly, sitting back in the chair. “That your situation isn’t always ideal so it may be more difficult for you.”
“We know,” Spencer replies for Jon. “But we don’t care.”
Keltie pauses and then smiles, holding out a hand. “Can I see the paperwork?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jon says quickly, handing it over, and she opens the folder.
There’s silence for a moment as she scans the papers, their names, occupations, ages, all that boring stuff that’s necessary for things like this.
“So you’re not married?” she asks finally, and Spencer knew that would come up.
“Um, no,” Jon admits after a second. “But we own a house together and our two-year anniversary is coming up in a few weeks, and there are lots of people who can vouch for us being completely sane.”
Keltie laughs, setting down the paper she was looking at. “That’s good to know. Actually, we will need character references from your friends or coworkers, so you should think of who you’d like to ask. We’ll also need bank statements, proof of income, proof of homeownership, all those sort of documents.”
Jon nods seriously, and Spencer pauses.
“What if no one picks us?”
“Spencer,” Jon says but Spencer ignores him, watching Keltie.
Keltie shifts back, tucking back a strand of hair and smoothing down her pink blouse.
“It’s a possibility, but we have many different kinds of birthmothers here and they’re all looking for different things in potential parents. I’m sure there’s a match out there somewhere, Mr. Smith.”
“Spencer,” Spencer mutters, and Keltie smiles.
“Don’t worry about that now. For now, just gather the documents, think about what you want, and get those character references done. The faster you are, the faster we can put you in the system.”
Jon nods and Spencer sits back.
“We will,” Jon assures her. “Thank you, Ms. Colleen.”
“Call me Keltie,” Keltie says. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other after all.”
Jon smiles as he rises, and Spencer stands also. They shake hands and leave with Keltie’s reminder to think about the references.
“I think this is gonna be okay,” Jon says as they leave the agency and its bright colors behind.
“It’s gonna be… something,” Spencer agrees as they reach the car and slide inside.
*
The upstairs office, which Spencer doesn’t really use that often except during finals week when he’s got over two hundred exams to grade, has a desktop computer that neither of them really use, a table in one corner, and file cabinets in the closet for all their records. Ever since New Year’s, though, the door has been opened to the office and the computer desk has been scattered with papers.
Some are notes, some are calculations, some are sheets and sheets of information printed off the internet. The file cabinets have been raided and copies of copies of copies are scattered in different piles on the table.
Spencer isn’t in the office, though. Instead, he’s sitting in the backyard on the little rocking bench Jon bought a few months after moving in and put on the edge of the porch. The porch is really nothing more than a slab on concrete, but the grass spreads out from where the concrete stops and there are flowers and bushes lining the back fence.
He rocks back and forth idly as Jagger runs back to him excitedly, dropping a slobbery tennis ball in his lap. Spencer plucks it out with a face and tosses it to the other side of the yard, Jagger tearing after.
It’s still a little cold outside, since it’s the bitter end of February and spring hasn’t exactly sprung yet. Spencer just zips up his jacket and makes another face as Jagger drops the ball in his lap again.
“Don’t you ever get tired?” he asks as he tosses the ball again. Jagger takes off and Spencer sits back, still rocking slowly.
He doesn’t turn at the sound of the sliding glass door, but Jagger immediately changes his course from where he’d been heading for Spencer. Instead, he bounds for the door, the tennis ball firmly in his mouth as his whole body wiggles from the force of his wagging tail.
“Hey,” Jon says, rounding the bench and sitting down next to Spencer. Jagger is still trying to push his gross ball into Jon’s hand, but Jon settles for patting his head instead. “What are you doing out here?”
“Giving Jagger some much needed exercise,” Spencer replies as the dog abandons Jon and plops the ball in Spencer’s waiting hand. Spencer throws it away and Jon smiles, sliding an arm over his shoulders.
Spencer sighs as Jon leans into his neck, pressing a kiss to it lightly, not moving away.
“Have you thought about who we should ask for the reference?” Jon asks after a minute as Jagger starts to run in circles around the yard on his own merit.
“I think first we need to actually tell people we’re adopting,” Spencer points out, watching Clover sneak out from the side of the house. She skirts the edge of the fence and disappears in some bushes as Jagger catches sight of her and makes a beeline.
“True,” Jon allows, pulling back from Spencer’s neck and brushing his hair aside. “But seriously, I was thinking about asking Tom.”
Spencer nods slightly, leaning into Jon and watching Jagger sniff in the bushes now, sufficiently distracted.
“He’s your best friend.”
“Do you want to ask Brendon?”
Spencer pauses, thinking. “What could Brendon say that Tom can’t?” he asks after a minute. “Maybe we should ask Greta and Bob.”
Jon smiles. “So they can gush about how good we are with their kid?”
“Why not,” Spencer says, shrugging, and Jon laughs.
“I’m so glad I met you, Spencer Smith,” Jon says after a minute and Spencer glances over.
Jon smiles at him and Spencer waits a minute before turning and crawling into Jon’s lap.
“I’m glad you did too,” he says, running his fingers through Jon’s shorter hair and leaning down for a sweet kiss. “Thank God Brendon is a klutz and broke Shane’s lens.”
“Yeah,” Jon murmurs in agreement as Spencer dips back in, kissing the corner of his mouth and down to his jaw. Jon’s hand slides to his lower back and he slides down a little to let Spencer settle in on top of him, warm against the chilly air.
The wood is hard and uncomfortable against his knees but Spencer doesn’t let it bother him as he kisses Jon harder, fingers tightening around the back of his neck. Jon doesn’t say anything as Spencer kisses him languidly, doesn’t say anything until Spencer’s hand slides down, fiddling with his belt, and his eyes open.
“Spence,” he says, his voice breathier than he means it to be. “We have neighbors.”
Arching an eyebrow, Spencer looks around pointedly at the tall, wooden fence that surrounds their backyard. Jagger is snuffling in the dirt in the corner.
“We have fences,” he replies, biting at Jon’s jaw, and Jon tilts his head back anyway.
“Well, good fences make good neighbors,” he mumbles finally and feels Spencer smirk as he gets the belt undone.
“Yes, they do.”
*
“Wait. I think I’m hallucinating.”
Spencer doesn’t scowl but huffs a little as Brendon stares at him from the other end of the couch. A pizza box is open on the coffee table, only a few measly crumbs left, and Spencer has a beer in his hand.
They’re in Brendon’s shoebox apartment and Spencer had to practically kick Ryan out so he could talk to Brendon alone. And since when did they actually get to the point of spending the night? Spencer doesn’t really want to know.
“Did you just say you were adopting a kid?” Brendon asks incredulously. “With Jon?”
“Yeah,” Spencer says obviously, taking a sip of his beer and trying to ignore the way Brendon’s eyes widen comically and his mouth spreads into a grin almost as big as Pete’s.
Tom hadn’t seemed so shocked when they’d told him. In fact, he’d slapped Spencer on the back and said it was about damn time. Spencer is not expecting the same reaction from Brendon even if he’s known Brendon about as long as Jon has known Tom.
“You are adopting a kid,” Brendon repeats again and Spencer rolls his eyes.
“Yes, Brendon. What?”
Brendon laughs, reaching for his beer but laughing too much to actually take a drink. Spencer frowns at him until Brendon sobers up.
“It’s just, I mean.” Brendon gestures at Spencer and Spencer arches an eyebrow. “It’s you.”
“So?” Spencer asks testily, and Brendon is still laughing.
“So-” Brendon stops, looking at Spencer and finally lowering his bottle from his mouth and pausing, blinking slowly. “Wait, you really are? You and Jon.”
“Yes!” Spencer huffs. “How many times do I have to say i-”
He stops abruptly as Brendon throws himself over the couch and squeezes him tightly.
“Bren, can’t breathe,” Spencer chokes after a second.
Brendon still clings but loosens his grip slightly. “Oh my god, this is so awesome! Spencer, you’re gonna be a daddy!”
“I know,” Spencer replies exasperatedly, but he smiles anyway when Brendon finally lets go, grinning at him. “I know. We already asked Tom to write a character reference.”
“How come you didn’t ask me?” Brendon asks, affronted, but Spencer rolls his eyes.
“Because Tom is Jon’s best friend.”
“I’m your best friend!” Brendon pouts slightly, poking at Spencer. “I would say nice stuff.”
“I know,” Spencer says, sighing. “But I just want this to work, to be perfect.”
“Why does it have to be perfect?” Brendon drains the last of his beer and sets it down with a clunk.
“Jon really wants a kid,” Spencer says with a shrug. “And I don’t want anything to get in the way. I want him to be happy.”
Brendon pauses, eyeing him carefully. “Do you want the kid?”
Spencer has asked himself the same question many times since he told Jon yes, and he thinks on some level, maybe he always has. He just didn’t realize it until Jon said it out loud.
“Yeah, I do,” he says after a minute, and Brendon’s grin widens and he knocks the air out of Spencer as he attacks him in a hug again.
“I call godfather!”
Spencer doesn’t tell him that he can’t call something like that but only because he’s struggling for air in Brendon’s vice grip.
*
Spencer pads down the staircase, fiddling with his jacket and smoothing down his jeans. The sun is setting out the window and Jagger is already whining by the front door as if he knows they’re not going to take him wherever they’re going. Spencer brushes his head once as he rounds the end of the banister and hears Jon talking on the phone in the living room.
“What do you mean you’re missing information? We gave Keltie all the forms last week.”
Spencer heads into the living room, finding Jon pacing in front of the couch as he talks on the phone.
“No! We made copies and we gave them to her. She said she’d put it in the system.” Jon sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair and Spencer edges over. He tries for Jon’s attention, but Jon is huffing into the phone. “So you have record that she dropped them off but you don’t have them? No, I didn’t fill them out wrong.”
He shakes his head, annoyed, and Spencer sneaks up beside him, getting Jon’s attention and tapping at his watch. Jon nods distractedly.
“Look, I sent in all the documents last week. I can make copies of them again but how do I know you’re not just going to lose them again?”
Spencer hasn’t heard Jon this agitated before and he just backs off, grabbing Jon’s jacket from the back of the armchair and urging Jon to put it on as he switches the phone around to keep it to his ear.
“Yes, fine, I’ll come in on Monday. In the meantime, can you look again? Because I swear it’s there.”
Jon makes a few more noises before he sighs and hangs up. Rolling his head back, he groans at the ceiling.
“What?” Spencer asks forebodingly.
“Just people losing files,” Jon mutters, obviously frustrated, but he sighs again and glances at Spencer, scanning down his jacket and nice-fitting jeans. He smiles after a second. “You look nice.”
“Thank you,” Spencer replies, reaching for Jon’s hand and pulling him towards the door. “Now come on before we miss our reservations.”
“So impatient,” Jon jokes. “How about next year we just stay in with pizza?”
Spencer arches a skeptical eyebrow and Jon laughs.
“Don’t worry. You’ll always be better than pizza.”
“Good answer,” Spencer says as Jon leans in and kisses him softly. “Now we should go.” He pulls Jon a little further, letting go as he nudges Jagger away from the door. Glancing back, he catches Jon giving the phone a frown, and pulls Jon to him, noses brushing together. “Forget about the paperwork for tonight. It’ll still be lost tomorrow. I won’t let anything ruin this.”
Spencer kisses Jon long and slow, and Jon presses back, licking into his mouth slowly until Spencer jerks back.
“The reservations,” he reminds Jon, and Jon hums quietly.
“They’ll still be there in a minute.”
“Jon,” Spencer says, leaning back when Jon tries to move in again. “Come on.”
“Oh, okay,” Jon says, sighing heavily. “But I want a dessert tonight.”
“You’ll get dessert,” Spencer promises him with a smirk over his shoulder as he twists open the doorknob and heads to the car. Jon laughs slightly, grabbing the car keys and following him out.
Part Three -->