Incoming [joncer, pg, standalone]
Title: Incoming
Author: silver_etoile
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jon/Spencer
POV: Third
Disclaimer: Not real.
Summary. Spencer may or may not be afraid of the dark. Except that he totally is and it’s definitely not as funny as Brendon is making it seem as he laughs at Spencer through the other end of the cell phone.
A/N: Written for the schmoop_bingo prompt of "cuddling during power outage." See my card for master posting. Apparently I have no patience for posting.
*
Spencer may or may not be afraid of the dark. Except that he totally is and it’s definitely not as funny as Brendon is making it seem as he laughs at Spencer through the other end of the cell phone.
Spencer is standing in his (pitch black) apartment and there’s no way he’s going outside when it’s thundering and lightening like it is. He dismisses Brendon’s suggestion of coming over almost as soon as the words leave his mouth.
“Are you fucking insane?” Spencer demands loudly, flinching at the roll of thunder that comes in through his window and he retreats from it, curling firmly into his couch. “I am not going out there.”
“Then I guess you’re stuck,” Brendon says brightly, and Spencer scowls.
“That’s not funny, Brendon!” he says angrily. “I have no power and it’s storming out. I only have, like, three candles and they’re all birthday candles. The flashlights are all lost somewhere and I am not going anywhere to get more.”
Brendon’s laugh is cut short as a crash of thunder shakes the apartment and Spencer hears a creak and a loud thud outside and the phone goes dead.
“Brendon?” Spencer asks, panicked. “Bren? No! No!” He punches at buttons on the phone but all he gets is a little message that tells him he has no service.
Creeping to the window, he looks out to see the gales of wind and the large elm tree that just crashed down onto the power lines, and apparently the phone tower, outside.
“Shit,” he curses to himself. Now he’s truly alone.
It’s almost completely dark in his apartment and he can barely see the couch as he maneuvers around it. He has to do something and he can’t stay there all alone. He’ll start thinking about all the things about could be lurking in the dark and completely freak himself out.
Instead, he pulls on his jacket because it’s getting cold and there is no heat since the power is out. He gropes for his keys on the counter and opens the door.
The hallway is completely dark and Spencer stands there for a minute, desperately wishing he knew where any of his flashlights were. He has no other choice, though, so he shuts his apartment door and crosses to the other side of the hall where he knows is another door, one of the neighbors.
“Please be home,” he mutters to himself as he knocks loudly, shifting nervously as another roll of thunder comes in from outside. Muffled as it is, he can still hear it, and he shifts again, knocking again.
Finally, the door opens and Spencer is relieved to find his neighbor there, the apartment filled with candles behind him.
“Spencer?” the guy asks, clearly surprised, and Spencer doesn’t even bother explaining as he steps inside.
“Hey, Jon,” he says awkwardly, thinking that he and Jon really haven’t talked much since Jon moved in a few months ago. They’ve made pleasant small talk in the hallway sometimes, or just wave or smile when they pass, but their extension of real conversation has been limited to what Jon thinks of the city and how his job is going. “How’s everything?”
“It’s okay,” Jon replies slowly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Spencer says just as a roll of thunder shakes the window and he jumps, eyes darting around like something might fall on him.
Jon’s mouth is curling into a smile as he watches Spencer. “Are you sure?”
“Well, I don’t have any candles,” Spencer admits. “And I can’t find the flashlight, and my apartment is really dark.”
Jon is still smiling but he doesn’t ask anymore questions after that. He just shuts the door behind Spencer and ushers Spencer in further.
“You want something to drink?” Jon asks as Spencer wanders over to the couch and sits down, pulling the blanket there over his legs as if he does this all the time. In truth, he’s never been inside Jon’s apartment, and he jumps as he nearly sits down on a cat. The cat springs up immediately and winds away, though.
“No, thanks,” Spencer mutters, feeling like an idiot. He’s almost twenty-five and he’s still afraid of thunderstorms and the dark.
Jon’s apartment is much like Spencer’s, just backwards, and his furniture is a lot more mismatched than Spencer’s. The candles cluttered on the coffee table cast a flickering yellow light over the couch and the blank television sitting across from him. There are more candles on the kitchen counter and window sill, each flickering when Jon moves around them. The cat is now slinking around a door and into what is probably Jon’s bedroom.
Jon comes over and sits down on the couch too while Spencer curls up under the blanket, watching a flickering candle.
“Why’d you come here?” Jon asks after a minute, and Spencer shrugs.
“Your door is closest,” he answers although it’s probably not the whole truth. He does like Jon and Jon’s always been nice to him, and he seems the least likely to laugh at him about this.
He flinches at the flash of lightening that lights up the room and waits for the resounding crash to follow. When it does, he jerks and grabs onto the blanket.
“Here,” Jon says, the smile still in his voice, but Spencer’s heart is beating too fast for him to scowl at it. Jon scoots closer, grabbing the blanket and draping over both of them. He slides his arm around Spencer’s shoulder and Spencer doesn’t hesitate to lean into him.
It feels almost natural to sit there with Jon, even if they don’t know each other that well. It’s going to be awkward the next time in the hall but Spencer doesn’t care at the moment.
“So how long have you lived in the city?” Jon asks finally and Spencer lets out a long breath, snuggling in closer to Jon’s warm body.
“A couple years,” he says. “Moved here right after college.”
Jon makes a soft noise, hand rubbing absently up and down Spencer’s arm to keep him warm. It feels nice and Spencer closes his eyes for a second. It’s been a while since he’s had a boyfriend or anyone to do this with aside from Brendon, who just does it for fun every other day. He catches himself on that thought and opens his eyes.
“Er, yeah. Not too long,” he says again to snap himself out of it.
“It hasn’t stormed like this before?”
“Just rain,” Spencer replies, shrugging. He can feel Jon’s hand, warm on his arm, and his head is resting against Jon’s shoulder. The candlelight is flickering over Jon’s jaw as he glances up. “Never anything this bad.”
Jon makes another soft noise and slides down against Spencer. His hand slides up, playing with the hair at the nape of Spencer’s neck, and Spencer shivers at the touch. He glances up at Jon carefully, but Jon is just watching the melting candle on the coffee table.
“Thanks,” Spencer says finally, quietly, and Jon tilts his head towards him.
“For what?”
“For not laughing,” Spencer mutters, and he sees Jon smile.
“Why would I laugh?”
“Brendon did.”
“Well, I wouldn’t,” Jon assures him, thumb swiping across the back of Spencer’s neck. “You’re welcome to show up at my doorstep anytime you want.”
“Yeah?” Spencer asks curiously. “Even if I’m dead drunk and lost my keys and can’t even remember what apartment is mine?”
“You can crash on my couch,” Jon promises simply.
“Cool,” Spencer murmurs and stiffens at another roll of thunder. Jon’s arm tightens over his shoulders and Spencer snuggles in. Not for the first time since Jon moved in, Spencer is glad that he did. “Thanks again.”
“It’s no problem,” Jon murmurs, breathing in deeply and sliding his fingers through Spencer’s hair as if he does it all the time.
Spencer lets his eyes close again and he doesn’t see the lightening, and somehow, the thunder seems muffled when it does come, and he’s only listening to the steady beat of Jon’s heart.
*
FIN.
Author: silver_etoile
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jon/Spencer
POV: Third
Disclaimer: Not real.
Summary. Spencer may or may not be afraid of the dark. Except that he totally is and it’s definitely not as funny as Brendon is making it seem as he laughs at Spencer through the other end of the cell phone.
A/N: Written for the schmoop_bingo prompt of "cuddling during power outage." See my card for master posting. Apparently I have no patience for posting.
*
Spencer may or may not be afraid of the dark. Except that he totally is and it’s definitely not as funny as Brendon is making it seem as he laughs at Spencer through the other end of the cell phone.
Spencer is standing in his (pitch black) apartment and there’s no way he’s going outside when it’s thundering and lightening like it is. He dismisses Brendon’s suggestion of coming over almost as soon as the words leave his mouth.
“Are you fucking insane?” Spencer demands loudly, flinching at the roll of thunder that comes in through his window and he retreats from it, curling firmly into his couch. “I am not going out there.”
“Then I guess you’re stuck,” Brendon says brightly, and Spencer scowls.
“That’s not funny, Brendon!” he says angrily. “I have no power and it’s storming out. I only have, like, three candles and they’re all birthday candles. The flashlights are all lost somewhere and I am not going anywhere to get more.”
Brendon’s laugh is cut short as a crash of thunder shakes the apartment and Spencer hears a creak and a loud thud outside and the phone goes dead.
“Brendon?” Spencer asks, panicked. “Bren? No! No!” He punches at buttons on the phone but all he gets is a little message that tells him he has no service.
Creeping to the window, he looks out to see the gales of wind and the large elm tree that just crashed down onto the power lines, and apparently the phone tower, outside.
“Shit,” he curses to himself. Now he’s truly alone.
It’s almost completely dark in his apartment and he can barely see the couch as he maneuvers around it. He has to do something and he can’t stay there all alone. He’ll start thinking about all the things about could be lurking in the dark and completely freak himself out.
Instead, he pulls on his jacket because it’s getting cold and there is no heat since the power is out. He gropes for his keys on the counter and opens the door.
The hallway is completely dark and Spencer stands there for a minute, desperately wishing he knew where any of his flashlights were. He has no other choice, though, so he shuts his apartment door and crosses to the other side of the hall where he knows is another door, one of the neighbors.
“Please be home,” he mutters to himself as he knocks loudly, shifting nervously as another roll of thunder comes in from outside. Muffled as it is, he can still hear it, and he shifts again, knocking again.
Finally, the door opens and Spencer is relieved to find his neighbor there, the apartment filled with candles behind him.
“Spencer?” the guy asks, clearly surprised, and Spencer doesn’t even bother explaining as he steps inside.
“Hey, Jon,” he says awkwardly, thinking that he and Jon really haven’t talked much since Jon moved in a few months ago. They’ve made pleasant small talk in the hallway sometimes, or just wave or smile when they pass, but their extension of real conversation has been limited to what Jon thinks of the city and how his job is going. “How’s everything?”
“It’s okay,” Jon replies slowly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Spencer says just as a roll of thunder shakes the window and he jumps, eyes darting around like something might fall on him.
Jon’s mouth is curling into a smile as he watches Spencer. “Are you sure?”
“Well, I don’t have any candles,” Spencer admits. “And I can’t find the flashlight, and my apartment is really dark.”
Jon is still smiling but he doesn’t ask anymore questions after that. He just shuts the door behind Spencer and ushers Spencer in further.
“You want something to drink?” Jon asks as Spencer wanders over to the couch and sits down, pulling the blanket there over his legs as if he does this all the time. In truth, he’s never been inside Jon’s apartment, and he jumps as he nearly sits down on a cat. The cat springs up immediately and winds away, though.
“No, thanks,” Spencer mutters, feeling like an idiot. He’s almost twenty-five and he’s still afraid of thunderstorms and the dark.
Jon’s apartment is much like Spencer’s, just backwards, and his furniture is a lot more mismatched than Spencer’s. The candles cluttered on the coffee table cast a flickering yellow light over the couch and the blank television sitting across from him. There are more candles on the kitchen counter and window sill, each flickering when Jon moves around them. The cat is now slinking around a door and into what is probably Jon’s bedroom.
Jon comes over and sits down on the couch too while Spencer curls up under the blanket, watching a flickering candle.
“Why’d you come here?” Jon asks after a minute, and Spencer shrugs.
“Your door is closest,” he answers although it’s probably not the whole truth. He does like Jon and Jon’s always been nice to him, and he seems the least likely to laugh at him about this.
He flinches at the flash of lightening that lights up the room and waits for the resounding crash to follow. When it does, he jerks and grabs onto the blanket.
“Here,” Jon says, the smile still in his voice, but Spencer’s heart is beating too fast for him to scowl at it. Jon scoots closer, grabbing the blanket and draping over both of them. He slides his arm around Spencer’s shoulder and Spencer doesn’t hesitate to lean into him.
It feels almost natural to sit there with Jon, even if they don’t know each other that well. It’s going to be awkward the next time in the hall but Spencer doesn’t care at the moment.
“So how long have you lived in the city?” Jon asks finally and Spencer lets out a long breath, snuggling in closer to Jon’s warm body.
“A couple years,” he says. “Moved here right after college.”
Jon makes a soft noise, hand rubbing absently up and down Spencer’s arm to keep him warm. It feels nice and Spencer closes his eyes for a second. It’s been a while since he’s had a boyfriend or anyone to do this with aside from Brendon, who just does it for fun every other day. He catches himself on that thought and opens his eyes.
“Er, yeah. Not too long,” he says again to snap himself out of it.
“It hasn’t stormed like this before?”
“Just rain,” Spencer replies, shrugging. He can feel Jon’s hand, warm on his arm, and his head is resting against Jon’s shoulder. The candlelight is flickering over Jon’s jaw as he glances up. “Never anything this bad.”
Jon makes another soft noise and slides down against Spencer. His hand slides up, playing with the hair at the nape of Spencer’s neck, and Spencer shivers at the touch. He glances up at Jon carefully, but Jon is just watching the melting candle on the coffee table.
“Thanks,” Spencer says finally, quietly, and Jon tilts his head towards him.
“For what?”
“For not laughing,” Spencer mutters, and he sees Jon smile.
“Why would I laugh?”
“Brendon did.”
“Well, I wouldn’t,” Jon assures him, thumb swiping across the back of Spencer’s neck. “You’re welcome to show up at my doorstep anytime you want.”
“Yeah?” Spencer asks curiously. “Even if I’m dead drunk and lost my keys and can’t even remember what apartment is mine?”
“You can crash on my couch,” Jon promises simply.
“Cool,” Spencer murmurs and stiffens at another roll of thunder. Jon’s arm tightens over his shoulders and Spencer snuggles in. Not for the first time since Jon moved in, Spencer is glad that he did. “Thanks again.”
“It’s no problem,” Jon murmurs, breathing in deeply and sliding his fingers through Spencer’s hair as if he does it all the time.
Spencer lets his eyes close again and he doesn’t see the lightening, and somehow, the thunder seems muffled when it does come, and he’s only listening to the steady beat of Jon’s heart.
*
FIN.