Possession 1/5
When Ryan opened the door he was so surprised to see Spencer Smith standing on the other side that he pinched his thigh to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. And then, when he realized he wasn’t dreaming, he made a small, choking sound and blinked. Spencer just stared back, expression relatively placid, like this was normal, like he just dropped by all the time.
“What are you doing here?” Ryan finally managed to ask, his voice embarrassingly high-pitched.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Spencer shot back sarcastically. “What’s it been? Two, three years now?”
It had been precisely two years, four months and six days, actually, but Ryan only knew because he counted the days when he was bored. He was, unfortunately, bored pretty often. When Ryan didn’t say anything Spencer sighed loudly.
“Look,” he said. “I know you don’t want to see me. I don’t know what I did. I don’t think you know what I did, but I need your help, okay?”
Several thoughts raced through Ryan’s mind at once, some that had to do with how, exactly, Spencer had found him, a few more having to do with what the hell this emergency could possibly be, most just trying to figure out if this was really happening. None of them seemed to want to stick, though, and Ryan didn’t know what to say or do so he stepped aside and let Spencer brush past him and into the apartment.
“Um,” Ryan said, closing the door behind him. “Yeah, so. I still don’t know what you’re doing here.”
Spencer didn’t say anything. He was too busy staring around at the apartment which was spacious, lavishly furnished and high tech.
“Jesus, Ross, who’d you have to fuck to get this place?”
He meant it as a joke, Ryan knew. There was no way Spencer could know and even if he did, he wouldn’t be flippant about something like that. Livid, maybe, but not flippant. So Ryan played it off and shrugged.
“Somebody rich, obviously. Spencer, what are you doing here?”
Ryan tried to sound authoritative, but he knew he failed pretty miserably when Spencer just lifted one shoulder, still staring around at the apartment in awe.
“It’s Brendon,” he said, and the bottom dropped out from Ryan’s stomach.
The sudden feeling of dread must have shown on his face because Spencer took one look at him and shook his head. “He’s fine, Ryan,” he said reassuringly. “I mean, I’m only assuming he is because I haven’t seen the little shit in almost three weeks but I’m pretty sure he’s okay.”
It was a relief, but only a slight one because it still had to be pretty bad for Spencer to have tracked Ryan down (how?) and then come here to tell him about it (why?). Ryan rubbed his suddenly damp palms over his jeans and raised an eyebrow at Spencer.
“What are you talking about?”
“He ran away,” Spencer said, his tone still level but the words coming across as accusatory. “A few weeks ago,” he added. “Just packed up a duffle bag and took off for parts unknown. Except for the part where he hinted pretty loudly that he was taking a bus in this direction.”
Ryan’s fists clenched and released spasmodically and he tried to sound casual when he said, “And you think he’s in Chicago, why?”
“Because you’re here,” Spencer answered easily. “And because it’s Brendon and he wouldn’t want to go somewhere that he’s never been.”
“He’s never even been to Chicago,” Ryan said before adding, “and he couldn’t have known I was here.”
Spencer raised his eyebrows. “It’s good to know that flawed logic isn’t one of the things you left behind in Vegas,” he said drily. “Brendon came here after he graduated. He’s got a brother in the state.”
Ryan studied Spencer’s calm expression and tried to figure out if he was guilt-tripping Ryan on purpose or not. It was possible Ryan was reading into things; Spencer had always said real friends didn’t do shit like emotionally manipulate each other for no good reason. Still, Ryan had walked out on him, left without a trace, and it was possible (likely, a guarantee) that they weren’t real friends anymore. They certainly didn’t feel like it, the few feet between them looking more like the same fifteen hundred miles that had separated them for the last two years.
“So . . .” Ryan finally said, trailing off with no idea how to finish that sentence. So why are you here? So why should I care? So how did you know where to find me? None of it was appropriate and all of it would either result in Spencer refusing to answer him or send Spencer marching right out of the apartment for good. Ryan felt awkward and guilty but he didn’t want Spencer to go.
“So,” Spencer said, “you need to help me look for him.”
Ryan blinked and Spencer rolled his eyes. “Look, I understand that you’re independent and have a new life here. Okay? I get it. But I don’t know my way around here and I need to find Brendon. So help me. Please.”
It wasn’t really like Spencer to ask for anything, not that Ryan could remember. He was so shocked by Spencer’s earnest expression that he almost missed the fierceness in his tone when he spoke about Brendon. Ryan wondered what had happened between them after he’d left and then pushed the thought firmly from his mind.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Okay, let’s find him.”
_._
Spencer tried calling Brendon on the way out of the apartment building but the other boy didn’t pick up. Ryan looked at him like he was stupid. Nobody who was running away for good would answer their phone if they recognized the number. He said as much and Spencer looked a little affronted.
“He answered once,” he said. “And then hung up after, like, two minutes.”
Ryan rolled his eyes and then stopped in his tracks because Spencer was staring at him in a way that Ryan remembered distinctly. It was the kind of look that said Spencer had just had a great idea and Ryan was going to go along with it or else.
“What?” he asked, brushing a hand through his hair self-consciously.
“You should call him. You got a new phone, right? You just said Brendon will answer if he doesn’t recognize the number and he definitely doesn’t have yours.”
“I could be wrong,” Ryan pointed out, but Spencer just raised an eyebrow.
Ryan huffed out a sigh and then fished his phone out of his pocket. Spencer rattled off the number and Ryan hesitated with his thumb over the call button for a split second, his stomach dropping to somewhere near his knees. Spencer reached out and pressed Ryan’s thumb down and then turned the speaker on. The sudden ringing was tinny and loud in the building’s lobby, and Spencer and Ryan quickly ducked down a more secluded hallway for a little bit of privacy.
It rang again. And then again. Ryan looked up at Spencer, smug, just as the next ring cut off and there was a hesitant, “hello?”
Ryan couldn’t even hate Spencer for being right because he hadn’t heard Brendon’s voice in years and it was just as much of a shock to his system as seeing Spencer had been.
“Um,” Ryan started before clearing his throat and trying again. “Hey, Brendon.”
The other line was silent and Ryan was sure Brendon was going to hang up when the other boy finally said, “if this is some kind of joke, I’m not fucking laughing, Ross.” His voice was tight and Ryan knew he was pissed and trying hard not to show it.
“It’s not a joke,” Ryan said. “Spencer gave me your number.”
“That bastard,” Brendon said with feeling. “He’s got you looking for me, huh?”
“We’re both looking for you, you ass,” Spencer said, speaking up finally.
Brendon inhaled sharply and then he started laughing. “Goddamn,” he said as soon as he’d trailed off into chuckles. “Are you for real, Smith?”
“Yeah, I am,” Spencer said, sounding mildly amused. “Now tell me where you are so I can come kick your ass.”
“And what, drag me back to Vegas?” Brendon asked, all of the warmth leaving his voice in the span of seconds.
Spencer looked up at Ryan and then sighed. “No, Brendon. I’m not here to drag you back to Vegas.”
But the way Spencer rubbed at the back of his neck told Ryan that he was probably lying. He narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything because it really wasn’t his place. These weren’t his friends, not really. Not anymore.
“Okay,” Brendon finally said. “I’ll tell you where you can find me but only if Ryan comes with you. Will you come, Ryan?”
Spencer pinned Ryan with a heavy gaze and Ryan swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he answered before he could think twice about it. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
Brendon’s smile was so obvious Ryan could see it in his mind’s eye and it made his heart thump painfully against his ribs. Spencer copied the address Brendon gave them onto his palm.
“It’s a Starbucks,” Brendon said. “You can’t miss it. See you soon?”
“Yeah,” Spencer said.
Brendon hung up and Ryan followed suit, staring at the phone in his hands like he’d never seen anything like it before.
“Come on,” Spencer said, grabbing hold of Ryan’s elbow and tugging him out of the hallway. “Let’s go.”
The touch of Spencer’s hand made Ryan’s skin feel hot, even though there was a layer of fabric between Spencer’s palm and his own arm. Ryan blinked, wondering if maybe this was all just an elaborate dream; he followed Spencer anyway.
_._
Brendon looked fine. Better than fine, maybe. Spencer and Ryan caught sight of him through the glass doors and windows of the Starbucks before even walking inside and Ryan was surprised at how much different Brendon looked. Maybe it was because Spencer looked pretty much the same as Ryan remembered. A little thinner, maybe, but the same blue eyes and pretty mouth and wicked hips hidden by the same baggy jeans as ever.
Brendon, on the other hand, had grown out his hair and his dorky glasses had given way to more stylish frames. He didn’t hold himself like the sheltered dork he’d been when Ryan had first met him and he was smiling wide and earnest at two college students who were leaning against the counter. There was something else about him that Ryan could sense even through the glass, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“He came out to his parents,” Spencer said softly.
Ryan looked at Spencer in shock. “What?”
Spencer nodded. “Yeah, well, his boyfriend didn’t really give him much of a choice, you know? He said if Brendon didn’t do it, they were over.”
“So what happened to him? Why didn’t he come with Brendon?” Ryan asked curiously, although there was a part of him that already knew the answer.
Spencer’s expression darkened but he just shrugged. “Brendon’s parents kicked him out when Brendon didn’t automatically take it back and Adam, the douchebag he was dating, wasn’t that supportive. His parents are, like, presidents of PFLAG or something, all understanding and shit so he just didn’t get it. Anyway, Brendon was pretty crushed and he couldn’t live on his own. He tried but he was stressed out and not really himself.”
“So he ran away,” Ryan said.
“Well,” Spencer said, glancing sideways at Ryan and then moving to open the doors. “That’s kind of an oversimplification, but yeah.”
Ryan chewed on that thought as they walked inside. The girls at the counter held Brendon’s attention for about twenty more seconds; he glanced up when he was laughing at something the blonde one had said to him and caught sight of Ryan and Spencer. Ryan wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe everything came to a standstill in that moment. At the very least, all of Ryan’s higher functions stopped working. It was weird, like everything was catching up to him right there in the middle of Starbucks.
Spencer walked past Ryan to say hi to Brendon and Ryan stared at them both, two people he’d never thought he would see again, two of the best friends he’d probably ever had, right within reach. He couldn’t believe it but the proof was right there and this was definitely no dream. Jesus fuck.
“Hey,” someone said from behind Ryan. “Hey, you in line?”
Ryan started and glanced over his shoulder at an older man who was glaring up at him.
“He’s with me,” Brendon said, cutting in and ushering the man to the counter. “Can I help you?”
Ryan wandered off to the side to stand by Spencer while Brendon worked, trying to process the whole, surreal situation and failing miserably. It wasn’t going very well, probably because the heat of Spencer’s body so close to his was achingly familiar and distracting. They only stood around for a few minutes before Brendon walked around the counter with a big grin and announced he was on break.
“Come on, we’ll sit over here,” he said, tugging Spencer and Ryan to a corner table and sitting them next to each other. “Talk to me Smith, why are you really here?”
Brendon settled on the seat across from them and looked at Spencer with an open and naive expression that Ryan knew Brendon was faking. Not that Brendon wasn’t open and naive, Ryan could already tell that hadn’t changed, but his eyes were carefully wide, his brow set in neutral. He must have guessed that Spencer was lying about not taking him home. Brendon wasn’t as stupid as people liked to think and Ryan was ridiculously surprised that he remembered that (and felt stupid for being surprised right after it hit him that of course he wouldn’t forget; one did not just forget Brendon Urie).
“Your parents sent me out here,” Spencer said with a sigh. “I mean, I was going to come anyway. A few more shifts at the office and I would have had the money, but they really want you to come home.”
Brendon leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. “They kicked me out, Spence,” he said, looking out the window and then over to Ryan. “Did he tell you?”
Ryan nodded and Brendon flashed him a lopsided, not-quite-bitter smile. “I don’t really want to go back to a family that can’t love me the way I am.”
The words were big with the kind of false bravado that Ryan remembered Brendon being full of when they were younger. He sounded tough and strong and mature but there was a small crack in his voice, barely detectable, that said he was still hurting over what they’d done and hurting in a big way. Ryan could understand. Not from experience, but the Urie family had always been tight and despite Brendon’s little rebellions, he’d loved them as deeply as Ryan had ever seen somebody love their family.
For a bitter moment Ryan wished he could have been there for Brendon. He’d had Spencer, sure, but Ryan felt like he should have been there, too. He brushed the feeling away (it stuck to him like cobwebs but he could ignore that) and concentrated, instead, on the argument unfolding in front of him.
“Come on, Brendon, maybe they’ve come around,” Spencer said, but he sounded as skeptical as Brendon looked.
“Yeah? Then why did they stop calling me? Or better yet, why didn’t they maybe leave a message to tell me they changed their minds? Because they didn’t, Spencer. They can’t. I’m gay and that’s not going to change and they’re not going to change so you’re really just wasting your time out here.”
Spencer opened his mouth and then closed it, sharing a look with Brendon that spoke volumes; Ryan couldn’t hear a word. Eventually Spencer backed off.
“How’d you get a job so fast, anyway?” he asked and Brendon’s grin was back.
“Okay,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows and making it obvious that he’d been wanting to share this story with someone. “Okay, so, I was going to catch the Greyhound east, right? And I was going to buy my ticket and everything but I freaked out and spent, like, two hours in an IHOP. Anyway, these guys walked in and they didn’t even look at me or anything but one of them walked right up to me about ten minutes later and asked if he could take my picture.”
“And you said yes?” Spencer asked, sounding shocked and appalled. Ryan was trying not to laugh at Brendon’s expression.
“Well, I mean, yeah. He wasn’t creepy or anything and he told me his name and he was there with his band or whatever. So he took my picture and then sat next to me and said his name was Jon and asked mine. And I don’t know, he just had these eyes, you know? Really nice ones and I kind of blurted out that I was working myself up to leaving town which he’d already guessed because, like, I had my duffle bag with me. Apparently he and his band were doing, like, a farewell tour or something? Anyway, they’d gone to Vegas for the first time and were leaving and he said if I didn’t mind helping them out with heavy lifting and sleeping in a van, they could take me as far as Chicago.”
“And you got in the van,” Spencer said, not even a question so much as an exasperated statement of fact. “Oh my God, Brendon, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to get in the car with strangers?”
“Well, I’m alive so it doesn’t matter,” Brendon said flippantly. “Besides, I was the one most likely to be a serial killer or something. I mean, at least I’d seen Jon’s bandmates. He didn’t know if I was hiding a chainsaw out back or something.”
“You’ve seen American Psycho way too many times,” Spencer muttered.
Brendon just grinned his usual, shit-eating grin, flashing a wink at Ryan, before continuing. “So we got to Chicago and Jon said I could stay with him for a while if I wanted and after two days I realized I didn’t want to leave. It’s awesome here, seriously. So . . . Jon got me this job. And now we’re roommates. And he thinks it’s cool and brave that I came out to my parents.”
“I thought it was cool and brave, too,” Spencer pointed out.
“Yeah, but you don’t make scones,” Brendon told him in a dismissive tone.
Ryan couldn’t help it. He laughed and when Brendon only looked at him with a pleased and bemused smile, he only laughed harder.
“I can’t believe you, Brendon,” he said when Spencer nudged him, but he wasn’t being rude, just honest.
“Yeah, well, I figured if you could do it, so could I,” Brendon retorted, but he wasn’t being rude either.
They shared a smile, Ryan’s small and Brendon’s wide and forgiving, and then someone cleared his throat from behind them.
“Hey, B,” the voice said and Ryan and Spencer watched as Brendon lit up like fucking Christmas.
“Hey,” he said happily. “Guys, this is Jon.” Ryan and Spencer craned their necks to get a good look at the guy who had pulled Brendon into his van and brought him all the way out here.
He was good looking, Ryan noticed, with a friendly, open face. He was sporting stubble but it didn’t look bad, and his hair was a little long but tidy. He smiled at them and then flicked his eyes to Brendon who introduced them as ‘Spencer, my friend from Vegas’ and ‘Ryan, that guy I told you about’. Jon’s smile wavered at that but it was barely noticeable.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Brendon’s told me a lot about you two.”
Spencer grimaced and Ryan fought back a wince. “Yeah, Brendon talks a lot,” Spencer said and Jon laughed. It was a really nice laugh.
“I’ve gotta get back to work,” Brendon said. “But hey, hey, we should all go to dinner or something tonight, okay? Is that cool?”
Spencer shrugged and looked at Ryan who bit his lip. He didn’t really have anything going on, nothing he couldn’t get out of anyway. A part of him, a really big part, didn’t want to go out with Brendon and Spencer. He wanted to leave the two of them in each other’s care and go back to his quiet, boring life. But the rest of him, the stronger parts of him, couldn’t imagine saying no. So he nodded.
“Yeah, that’s cool.”
Brendon grinned. “Excellent. You in?” he asked Jon.
“Sure,” Jon said, and when he smiled at Brendon, Ryan felt a little like he was intruding.
_._
Ryan didn’t know if Spencer had a hotel room or not. He assumed he did since Spencer hadn’t shown up on his doorstep with any luggage. He didn’t send Spencer away, though. As soon as they got to the apartment building, Ryan was inviting Spencer up and Spencer didn’t hesitate to follow.
“So,” Spencer said as soon as they were seated in the living room. “You gonna tell me what happened to you and how you can afford all of this?”
A twinge of guilt made Ryan’s stomach cramp and he shrugged uncomfortably.
“It’s a long story,” he said slowly.
Spencer leaned back pointedly on the couch and propped his feet up on Ryan’s expensive coffee table. “I’ve got time.”
He looked at Ryan expectantly and didn’t even blink when Ryan’s phone rang. Ryan almost didn’t answer it; he was too busy staring back at Spencer, letting something undefined pass between them. Eventually, though, he grabbed his phone and flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“Hey, gorgeous,” Pete answered.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled through his nose. “Hey, yourself. What’s up?”
“Well,” Pete said. “I’ve been working all day and I’m feeling kind of lonely. You up for a visit tonight?”
Even with his eyes closed Ryan wasn’t likely to forget about Spencer in the room, or about Brendon waiting for their dinner date. “What time?” he asked.
There was a pause and Ryan knew it was because he never asked questions. He was available whenever Pete wanted him, that was their deal (and the price to pay for a life of leisure).
“I don’t know. Why? You have plans?”
The easy answer would be yes. The correct answer (for Pete) would be no. Ryan bit his lip and then shrugged to himself.
“Yeah. Just. An old friend’s in town and he wanted to catch up over dinner. I probably won’t be back until late.”
“Huh,” Pete said. “A friend from Vegas? Are you okay with that?”
Ryan opened his eyes and saw Spencer looking at him curiously. He felt something squirm in his stomach and then sighed.
“Yeah. Yeah.” It was reluctant but it was the truth and Pete hummed an acknowledgment in Ryan’s ear.
“Alright. Tomorrow, then. I’ll come over around noon. Have fun tonight.”
Pete hung up before Ryan could say anything else, leaving him unsettled and shaky. Spencer’s expression shifted from curious to concerned and he leaned forward, looking across the table at him.
“Who was that?” he asked, or demanded more like. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ryan said, trying to sound nonchalant. “It was just a friend. It’s nothing.”
He knew he didn’t sound convincing but Spencer only narrowed his eyes. He looked like he had a million questions for Ryan which was only natural, but Ryan didn’t want to have to answer any of them. He pushed away from the armchair he was sitting in and lingered awkwardly for a moment.
“Um, I’m going to take a shower. You can make yourself at home.”
Spencer watched him walk out of the room but he didn’t try to stop him. Ryan could feel Spencer’s eyes on him, though, until he managed to escape into his room and close the door behind himself. He collapsed onto his bed and rubbed his hands over his eyes, feeling like he was well and truly fucked. There was no specific reason as to why, except that Ryan had only maintained a tenuous grip on reality at best and now Spencer was back and so was Brendon and the two of them together were threatening to wreck the life Ryan had built for himself.
Ryan cursed the pair of them as he rolled off of the bed and grabbed a change of clothes. He had to fight the childish urge to kick the door frame when he made his way into the bathroom. He blew out a frustrated breath and he wasn’t sure if he hated Spencer and Brendon or if he was just scared of them. He guessed it was the latter. He couldn’t hate them. He still loved them even though he didn’t really want to and even though he was sure they wouldn’t love him if they knew who he was now, what he was.
At the last second Ryan opted for a bath instead of a shower. As he watched the tub fill with hot water and the vanilla scented bubbles Pete had bought him two months ago, Ryan realized he really was scared. He was scared that this time he wouldn’t be the one to walk away, they would.
“Stupid,” he muttered, pulling his clothes off and leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
Soaking didn’t help much and by the time Ryan emerged from the bathroom, dressed and styled and looking like Ryan Ross Chicago Whore instead of Ryan Ross Vegas Boy, he felt like he was going to snap at any minute. He steeled himself for smartass comments from Spencer about Ryan’s hair and the eyeliner, but when he walked out into the living room he saw the other boy curled up on the couch, fast asleep. The breath stuttered out of Ryan’s chest and he went still, looking from Spencer’s peaceful features to the way his hands were curled near his nose. He could distinctly remember Spencer looking much the same at age eight, soft and comfortable, and Ryan wanted to curl up with him and stay like that, just for a while.
The desire was so strong that Ryan staggered back and sank weakly into his armchair, still staring. Spencer made a small sound in his sleep and shifted and Ryan froze, caught. But Spencer didn’t wake up and Ryan didn’t look away.
_._
They didn’t go anywhere fancy for dinner, just a pizza place that Brendon loved. The waiter sat them all at a booth near the back and the first few minutes of conversation were spent trying to figure out what kind of pizza to order.
“Sometimes it’s so hard to be a vegetarian,” Brendon said mournfully, staring at a pizza at a nearby table that was piled with sausage and pepperoni.
“Whatever, you had bacon for breakfast,” Jon shot back, still looking over the menu.
“Well, yeah,” Brendon said, looking up at him again. “But only because you seduced me with it. You make it hard to maintain my healthy lifestyle and moral standards.”
“Since when have I challenged your moral standards?” Jon asked, looking up at Brendon with raised eyebrows.
“Since when has he had moral standards period?” Spencer said, prompting Ryan to snort and Brendon to pout dramatically.
“Okay, fine, whatever. Sausage, please,” Brendon said, setting his menu aside.
Jon did the same and looked across the table at Ryan who was sitting on Brendon’s left, (Brendon had claimed Ryan as his own as soon as they’d met up, latching onto Ryan’s arm and pulling him into the booth next to him).
“Sounds good to me,” Ryan said and Spencer nodded his agreement.
“We should get hot wings, too,” Brendon said, turning to Ryan. “Can you still pack it down like you used to? You’re looking a little skinny.”
He poked at Ryan’s stomach, finding ticklish spots that hadn’t been triggered in years. Ryan squirmed away with a breathless laugh. “Who are you calling skinny? Your scrawny ass could get a second job as a pipe cleaner.”
“I am offended,” Brendon announced, still poking at Ryan insistently. “Take it back.”
Ryan held out for almost a minute before he cried mercy, gasping and trying to fend off Brendon’s hands. “Fine, fine! I take it back. You’re not skinny, God, just stop.”
Brendon sat back looking satisfied and when Ryan glanced up, Jon was looking at Brendon, his face a cross between indulgent and enamored. Ryan raised his eyebrows and looked to Spencer, hoping to catch his gaze and convey his intrigue, but Spencer was already looking at him, eyes dark and unreadable. Ryan nearly bit his tongue at the effect that look had on him and tore his eyes away quickly.
A few more times over the course of the meal, Ryan caught Spencer staring and he could never seem to tell what he was thinking. There had been a time when Spencer couldn’t hide anything from Ryan and vice versa. Now there seemed to be nothing but secrets between them. It didn’t help that when Brendon tried to get Ryan to tell them all what he’d been up to in the last two years, he had to hedge around it. And then Ryan accidentally let it slip that he knew Pete.
“Pete?” Jon repeated. “Like, okay, not to sound like a douche or anything but you don’t mean Pete Wentz, do you?”
Ryan was tempted to say that there had to be a thousand Petes in the city so it was silly to assume they knew the same one, but he was already nodding without even thinking about it. He was really beginning to hate the fact that in the last two years he hadn’t been around people enough to maintain his former ability to deflect questions and erect barriers. Not, he knew, that he would have been able to do that around Spencer and Brendon anyway. They knew him too well. But there was really no excuse for being this way with Jon.
“No way!” Jon said with a smile. “Yeah, I know him. I mean, I don’t know him well, but we’ve hung out a couple of times. He’s a friend of a friend, mostly. How do you know him?”
Jon didn’t mean anything by it and Ryan knew that, but his heart still started pounding a fast and nervous rhythm at the question. Realistically, there was no possible way Jon could even have an inkling of how Ryan and Pete knew each other. Pete was a good business man and well-known around certain parts of Chicago, but as far as Ryan knew, he didn’t go around broadcasting about the fact that he was supporting a guy barely out of his teens in return for sex and the occasional night of cuddling and movie-watching (but mostly sex). Ryan was a pretty well-kept secret in that regard and he intended to keep Pete a secret on his own end.
“Um,” Ryan said, glancing sideways. “From around.”
It was a vague and completely unsatisfying answer, but Jon was perceptive enough to pick up on the fact that he wasn’t going to get anything else and he didn’t even seem to mind. He just nodded and changed the subject easily. It left Ryan a little shaken, though. It was bad enough having Spencer and Brendon around but to be hanging out with somebody who knew Pete? Jon admittedly didn’t know him well but that was still enough to make Ryan feel awkward.
“You okay?” Brendon asked in a hushed voice while Jon and Spencer chatted about something.
Ryan looked over at him a little wildly and then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
Brendon didn’t look like he believed him but he just rested his hand on Ryan’s knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Ryan didn’t know why, but he kind of wished Brendon hadn’t let it go. When they’d been friends, Brendon had been spectacularly persistent even when he knew he should just leave well-enough alone. It was something that Ryan had maybe not so secretly missed since he’d been gone. Among other things, he thought as he caught sight of Spencer’s smile, bright and glowing in response to something Jon had said.
The rest of the night passed without incident. No more awkward questions, just Brendon and Spencer and Jon talking amiably with Ryan sometimes jumping in but mostly listening intently. He was soaking it all up, finally relaxed enough to appreciate the fact that he was out with people who were maybe friends for the first time in what felt like forever. It was nice. It was better than nice.
They left the restaurant smiling and enjoying an easy camaraderie with each other, Spencer and Jon chatting like they were old friends while they walked.
“Okay, this is us,” Jon said at a street corner a couple of blocks away. “You should try not to be strangers, okay?”
“Yeah,” Brendon said, voice stern but eyes dancing. “When do you leave, Spence?”
Spencer shrugged. “Not for a couple of days. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave without saying goodbye.”
Brendon smiled at him and then turned to Ryan. The next thing Ryan knew, Brendon was in his arms, clinging to him like he never wanted to let go and Ryan couldn’t help but cling back. He buried his face in Brendon’s hair and God, he remembered this, actually touching people without something being expected in return, having friends who draped themselves all over him for no reason. Brendon smelled foreign and familiar, the strong scent of coffee intermingling with traces of something sugary sweet and he felt just a little like home.
When Brendon’s lips moved against the skin of Ryan’s neck, he couldn’t hear words but he knew that Brendon was saying he’d missed him. Ryan mumbled back something about missing him, too, and Brendon released him with a wobbly laugh.
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?” he said, staring at Ryan.
Ryan ducked his head. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”
Brendon lifted one shoulder carelessly and leaned forward to kiss Ryan soundly on the forehead. “Eh, I still love you anyway. But if you ever do that again, I’m totally kicking your ass. And Jon’ll help.”
“Sure will,” Jon said helpfully from somewhere over Brendon’s shoulder. “Wait, what am I helping with?”
“Ass-kicking,” Spencer supplied.
“Oh. Well then, yeah, sure will.”
Ryan laughed, he couldn’t help it, and took a step back, nearly colliding with Spencer who was hovering behind him. “I’ll see you later,” he said.
“Promise?” Brendon asked earnestly.
Ryan nodded, and it didn’t even feel like a lie.
_._
“So,” Spencer said, cutting into the companionable silence they’d been walking in for the last five minutes.
Ryan looked sideways at him; Spencer’s hands were tucked in his pockets and his hair was falling in his eyes and for the first time he didn’t really look like the Spencer Ryan remembered. Maybe Ryan just hadn’t been looking hard enough or he’d wanted to cling to the kid he’d been best friends with practically forever. Either way, he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed the fact that Spencer had grown into his body, that his face wasn’t as round as it had been, that he looked wary and hopeful and resigned all at the same time.
“Yeah,” Ryan said, tearing his gaze away and biting at the inside of his cheek.
He was so busy not looking at Spencer that he didn’t see the other boy’s hand reach out until there were strong fingers wrapped around his own bony wrist, pulling them both to a halt.
“Look,” Spencer said, tugging until Ryan turned to face him. “I don’t. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know why it got so bad you couldn’t come to me, you know, that you had to run away and come here but. Can’t we just forget about it?”
Ryan frowned. “No. Yes. I mean, I don’t know. It’s hard. And why aren’t you mad at me for this?”
Spencer’s eyebrows went up and he said, “I am. I’m fucking pissed off that you would run off without a word. You could have ended up dead or worse.”
“I knew what I was doing,” Ryan said defensively; it was a half-truth at best.
“Maybe,” Spencer said with a sigh. “I mean, you’re still alive and you’re doing really well for yourself so. Yeah, I guess so.”
They lapsed into silence and Ryan fixed his eyes on the ground, studying the toes of his own fancy, expensive shoes in contrast with Spencer’s sneakers, well-worn but taken care of.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan finally said, the words stumbling out of his mouth and landing between them, naked and raw and inadequate.
Spencer’s hand reached out and it had been a long time but Ryan didn’t flinch away or lean in. He stayed perfectly still until Spencer cupped Ryan’s jaw and tilted his face up. Ryan found himself pinned by the same dark, intense stare that Spencer had been turning on him all night. And then those blue eyes softened and he said, “I know.”
Ryan breathed out a sigh and reached out hesitantly, his hands landing on Spencer’s hips and holding on.
“It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything,” he said and he knew how the words sounded but it was the truth even if Spencer didn’t recognize it as such.
But Spencer must have taken Ryan’s word for it because he shifted his hold and pulled Ryan against his body and it was different, so much different from the way they’d been two years ago or ten years before that, but it was the same, too. Their bodies lined up perfectly and Spencer was holding on, arms firm and warm and welcoming. Unlike with Brendon, this felt completely like coming home and Ryan wasn’t sure he could let go.
Somehow, though, he did. He couldn’t really look at Spencer when they separated and he felt giddy and ridiculous, but when he chanced a glance up at Spencer after they had resumed walking, the flush on the other boy’s cheeks told him that Spencer felt something similar.
Ryan left Spencer at his hotel, offering up a small smile. They didn’t say much. They didn’t really have to.
Spencer said, “I’ll call you sometime tomorrow?” and Ryan said, “yes.”
_._
Ryan slept fitfully that night. He wasn’t exactly prone to nightmares but he had really weird dreams sometimes. That night they were just downright bizarre, flashes of images that made no sense and that he couldn’t remember when he woke up. After jerking awake the fourth time, Ryan thought maybe it would be a good idea to just stay up. It was early, but Pete would be over in a few hours anyway and Ryan needed a little time to himself before that happened.
He took another bath, this time thinking a little about Brendon and a little about Jon but mostly about Spencer. His stomach felt funny whenever he did, schoolboy crush funny, and that was weird but maybe not as weird as it was worrying. Pete had been Ryan’s last crush, a thing developed over the internet because here was this hot, older guy who seemed to honestly care about Ryan and who was supportive through his problems and who took him in when he ran away. The crush itself had been so intense Ryan had secretly thought it was love, but it died fairly quickly. Which made sense, considering.
Since then, Ryan had been an island in pretty much every sense of the word. What he shared with Pete didn’t involve much emotion nowadays, at least on Ryan’s part. There was a certain amount of affection there, but Ryan liked Pete more when he just showed up to talk or when he called to say that he’d just finished a book and Ryan had to read it, when he was the same guy Ryan had met over the internet and not the one who fucked him on a regular basis.
The way that Spencer was making him feel wasn’t new but Ryan had forgotten what a crush felt like, how it pressed at his insides all the time, alternately gentle and sharp. He’d forgotten what it was like to be held under someone’s thrall like that. That wasn’t the worst part, though. The worst part was that Ryan didn’t know what it said about him that his former best friend could come into town and the first reaction he had was to develop a crush on him. It made Ryan feel like he was doing something wrong, feeling something dirty. It made Ryan feel more like a whore than anything had in a long time, and that was saying something.
He let his head fall back against the rim of the tub with a thunk and squeezed his eyes shut.
Please don’t do this, please, he thought frantically, and he wasn’t sure if he was asking it of himself or Spencer or some deity that he didn’t even believe in. He just knew that he wanted the crush, the fear, everything to stop.
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