Would You Lie With Me (Chapter Ten - 13/16)
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Chapter Nine
Brendon somehow missed the way the days were getting shorter and shorter, until one day they weren’t any longer than the night. He thought that maybe here, where the trees shed their leaves and animals departed because of the cold, that the change of seasons would be more marked. He thought that maybe fall would be noticeably cooler than the day before and that maybe all the leaves would fall all at once and suddenly leave the bare skeletons stretching toward the sky, dark and lonely against the grey clouds.
Jon leaned on the rake, on the other side of the yard. His pile of leaves was about four times the size of Brendon’s, and the area he’d covered easily amounted to half the yard.
“It never ends!” he wailed at Jon’s smirk. Another leaf drifted down and landed at Brendon’s feet. “I give up! Call me when the trees decide to quit ruining all my work!”
He ignored the way Jon’s laugh followed him into the kitchen, where Ryan was taking inventory of the remaining fresh vegetables. Brendon stole an Oreo from the box beside the sink.
“Fall is mean to me, Ryan Ross,” he said sadly. Ryan shook his head.
“Yeah man,” Ryan agreed, and stuck the carrots in the fridge. “You think we could convince the guys to move south before winter happens?”
Brendon wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know. Spencer’s pretty attached.”
Ryan laughed and flicked the end of Brendon’s nose. “I think you’re kind of attached, Bren.”
Brendon didn’t want to lie, so he didn’t disagree with Ryan. They’d tough it out. They’d survived worse.
+++
Spencer had insisted. He wasn’t going to back down, not on this. Maybe Brendon would be able to make the trek in the dead of winter, but Ryan would freeze to death before reaching the end of their driveway. So he’d insisted. The shopping list, though, had surprisingly been Jon’s idea.
“It says we need hats and mitts,” Ryan said and looked through the clearance bin. “Dude, these are ugly.”
Brendon was in the grocery store with Jon, stocking up on canned vegetables and anything they thought would last the winter. Spencer pulled a scarf off the rack. It was rainbow striped with a prancing unicorn embellished on the one end. Brendon would love it.
“Dude, the last shipment was probably in March. We’re lucky they have any winter shit at all.”
Ryan pulled a pair of women’s leather gloves from the bin and tossed it aside. “Yeah, but like, ugly!”
Spencer laughed. He picked up a pair of fuzzy grey mittens, and stuffed them into their basket. “Suck it up, princess,” he said gently and bumped his hip against Ryan’s. Ryan pinched back, but he was laughing too, when he dropped navy blue hat with ear flaps into the basket, next to their previous finds.
“We need to find warm socks and…” He squinted at the list. “Warm underwear?”
Spencer snatched the list away and wandered toward the underwear section. He still found it a bit weird, just walking through the unlit store, using only a few flashlights to guide them. He kept expecting, after all this time, to see a security guard, or to have the store alarm shriek when they left without paying. He glanced over to where the empty checkout counter sat, unmanned and lonely, by the exit of the story.
“Long johns, Ryan,” Spencer said, snatching the list from Ryan’s bony fingers when Ryan managed to steal it back. “In case something happens and we don’t have heat.”
Ryan shrugged and muttered something about Brendon doing his thing. Spencer hummed in agreement, but still picked through what was the clearance rack in this section as well.
“You might want to check out the camping store.”
Spencer jumped, and Ryan made a high pitched squeak that ended with a hanger clattering nosily to the floor. The young woman blinked at them in the dim corner where she stood, partially hidden by the Fruit of the Looms.
“Um.”
She laughed. When she stepped forward, Spencer caught a glimpse of a mischievous smile and dark hair that fell in moderate tangles around her shoulder. Ryan was vibrating at his elbow, probably inching his fingers toward Spencer’s gun, even though Ryan probably didn’t need a weapon anymore, anyway.
“I try to find most of my supplies in camping stores,” she said as casually as though they were discussing spending a day on the lake before It happened, not how to survive the winter without the luxuries of society. Ryan pressed closer to Spencer’s side.
They didn’t answer her. She stared at them for a while, until it turned into a sort of staring contest. In the end, it was she who looked away, touching the plastic encasing a three-pack of white briefs. When her eyes darted back to Spencer and Ryan, her eyes were narrowed and thoughtful.
“You’re not passing through,” she said at last. She focused on something beyond Spencer’s shoulder, her gaze going glassy and distant. Her face smoothed, her mouth went lax and soft. “You live here.” When her eyes met Spencer’s again, they were round and surprised. “You actually live here.”
+++
Noelle, as she introduced herself, was cataloguing what was left of the world, apparently. Spencer sat on her right, asking her question after question, staring her down with his piercing glare. Jon was across the table from her, watching with an amused expression on his face. Ryan and Brendon sat on the display porch swing with their arms linked at the elbows. The other three, angled across the seasonal section of the store, sat around a display patio set. The light of the lamp Spencer held didn’t reach as far as Ryan’s feet.
“Do you think she’s evil?” Brendon whispered into Ryan’s neck. When Ryan turned his head, Brendon’s face was right there. Their noses bumped, but Brendon didn’t move away. “I have my pistol,” Brendon said helpfully, but his fingers were shaking where they rested against Ryan’s thigh.
“I don’t think so.” She didn’t look evil. Her backpack was battered and she did indeed look like she’d been crisscrossing the country all summer. Her hair was dirty enough to add credit to the story, but she wasn’t caked in mud or grime. She looked healthy. “I think she’s just…”
“Curious?” Brendon finished for him. Ryan peered at Noelle’s face, as she answered Spencer’s inquiries, brightly and animatedly. She was a hand talker, and when she told them about Calgary, her laugh bounced around the quiet open space surrounding them.
Brendon leaned harder against Ryan and straightened his mouth, when she mentioned Chicago. Ryan didn’t miss the way Jon sat up, or the way his spine went rigid. Noelle glanced at him thoughtfully, and leaned forward conspiratorially, and asked them if they wanted to know exactly what happened here in Tawas.
“She knows too much,” Ryan said softly. Brendon pressed closer but didn’t respond. He was still trembling. Ryan closed his eyes and listened as Spencer declined her offer and told her they were good not knowing.
“You’ve been here almost since it happened,” she said. “A week or two after? Where are you originally from?” She leaned back in the plastic chair and crossed her arms over her chest. It should have looked too self-confident, or even too casual for the circumstances, and Ryan felt the flutter of nerves in his veins at the prospect of maybe telling her too much.
“Vegas,” Spencer grunted, and didn’t elaborate. Jon didn’t add Chicago to the answer. Noelle didn’t press.
“Yeah,” she laughed. “I can see why this is better than the Mojave. I spent a week passing through. Quite inhabitable.”
Brendon whined against Ryan’s shoulder, and huh, how did Ryan not notice when Brendon practically crawled into his lap. It was a quiet sound, meant only for Ryan and Brendon, a secret sound. Noelle heard it and glanced over at them with a smile.
“Your boys want to go home, I think,” she said cheerfully, as though she hadn’t just interrupted a private moment. “Let me stay the night?”
+++
Noelle had exclaimed all over Willow, and let her give kisses on her face until Brendon tugged the dog back and pressed his nose into her fur. It was the shower next, that captured Noelle’s attention. She stared at it when Jon asked if she wanted to clean up.
“You have running water?”
Jon shrugged and shuffled. The afternoon sun slanted across the floors. It was getting dark sooner. They’d wasted a portion of their day, and Jon hated the feeling of time slipping away. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, we’re on a well system.”
Noelle looked up at him with that same faraway look in her eyes that she got sometime before saying something she really shouldn’t know. “This house is perfect for you guys,” she said before focusing back on Jon and smiling. Only when she closed the door on him, and the sound of running water drifted through the wood separating them, did Jon slump against the far wall and curse.
“Fuck.” He caught Brendon staring at him. He gave a small grin and held his arms out for Willow.
“We’re not ready for this,” Brendon asked, curling around the dog, now nestled to Jon’s chest, to steal cuddles from Jon while he was distracted. “We’re not really, are we?”
Jon closed his eyes and refused to answer. That, in itself, was answer enough.
+++
“There’s a whole settlement up in Seattle,” Noelle told them over morning coffee. Brendon peered sleepily at her, confused about why she was saying that, and even about what she was saying in general.
“A settlement?”
Ryan was fidgeting nervously on the other side of the table, rattling the spoon resting on Brendon’s plate. His hair was sticking straight up on one side, and pressed flat on the other. He looked like he’d rolled out of Spencer’s grasp and right into Brendon’s. He probably had.
“A settlement. Like a group of people all living together.” She stirred the sugar into her coffee. Brendon scrunched his face up. She chuckled at him and reached out to ruffle his hair. “A city, doofus,” she said affectionately.
Ryan sat up straighter at that. The sleep seemed to vanish from his face entirely. “A city? Like, enough people to make an actual city?”
Noelle grinned at him and hummed contentedly around a mouthful of coffee. When she swallowed she said, “It’s only a few hundred people, but yeah.”
“Fuck.” Ryan flickered his gaze at Brendon, who was still trying to piece together the new information. Brendon’s body was aching to go run around and jump and dance. He wanted to shout and holler at the top of his lungs until he was gasping for breath and his mind was just too exhausted to even think about what she was saying.
“I picked up your trail near Indianapolis,” she said, completely ignoring Brendon’s need to just be alone and puzzle over things for a while. “I thought maybe you were heading toward the Niagara Falls area. There’s another settlement there.”
Ryan was so rigid in his seat that Brendon thought he might shatter if anyone so much as breathed. They fell into a silence that consisted of Ryan quivering, and Noelle sipping at her coffee. Brendon opened his mouth to ask how big Niagara Falls was when Spencer spoke from the doorway.
“What the fuck does that mean.”
Brendon spun in his chair. Spencer was tense. His hip was cocked in a way that usually ended with Brendon being grounded (“You can’t ground me!” “Well apparently I’m the mom, so go to your fucking room.”) Brendon shrunk against his seat in an attempt to take up less space. Ryan continued to be brittle and unmoving.
Noelle didn’t seem to pick up on the icy glare Spencer was sending her, and smiled boldly. “The world remembers your passage, even if no one was there to witness it, Spencer.”
Spencer growled. “Explain,” he hissed.
“It’s like…” Noelle paused and bit her lip like she was thinking. “It’s like the world records everything that ever happened to it, like on some sort of film, and I kind of just see snapshots of what it remembers.” She tapped the side of her mug. “Like, I can sense what happened in a place. It’s what I do.”
Spencer didn’t unclench his jaw, and Brendon curled even further into himself. It was quite possible Spencer was about to just shoot his mini “temper tantrum” lightning bolts at her. Brendon still had the singe marks on his arm from the last time.
“Like your super power thing?” Jon asked, finally shuffling up behind Spencer. He was still sleep-rumpled but his hands looked sure and steady when they touched at Spencer’s hip, and Spencer relaxed into him almost immediately. “Like, your new thing since It happened?”
Noelle’s face brightened. Her lips quirked into a half smile when she nodded.
“So it’s not, like, just us then?”
Noelle laughed sharp and amused. “Oh no, no,” she said gently. “It’s definitely not just you guys.”
+++
Noelle had suggested they come with her. The invitation was abrupt, one night when she was making Willow do tricks on the porch steps. Brendon was seated beside her, his body touching hers all the way from shoulders to feet. The other guys were sitting wrapped up together on the swing with the comforter for the bedroom draped over them.
“I can’t leave them,” Brendon said distractedly and asked Willow to sit pretty. Willow cocked her head and chased her tail. Brendon gave her the treat anyway.
Noelle gave a surprised laugh and leaned a little further into the heat he was offering. She was gazing above the tree tops - now bare and desolate, reaching up toward the moon like gnarled fingers. “No, I would never ask that,” she said at last. “I meant all of you. Together. Come with me to Niagara Falls.”
Brendon glanced over to where Spencer was speaking softly into Ryan’s hair. Jon was on the other side, his fingers pulling at Spencer’s, linking together and releasing only to close around them once more.
“I don’t think…” He stopped and looked at Noelle. Her eyes were hidden in the shadows that made up the night outside their little house. “I don’t think we’d fit in anymore.”
Noelle shook her head. She was soft where Brendon was touching her. She smelled sweet from Ryan’s soap and Spencer’s shampoo, and also probably because she was a girl and they just smelled different than guys did. Brendon had maybe forgotten.
“I think you’d fit in just fine,” she murmured against the side of his face. “People have dealt with It in many ways.”
Ryan let out a startled, happy shout at something Jon said, which was followed by a half-hearted tussle that rocked the swing and shifted the blanket. Brendon grinned fondly at them. Their breaths puffed out in small clouds each time one of them laughed, or called the others dickheads.
“I don’t think we’d want to fit in,” Brendon said at last. “I think…I think this is what we want.”
+++
Noelle left on a Thursday, exactly four days after they found her lurking around in Wal-Mart. Ryan had overheard Jon offering to teleport her a short distance, but she’d laughed and declined, waving her hand and accidentally hitting Brendon in the face. “I don’t think I need the headache,” she said cheerfully, as though it still wasn’t weird that she knew too much. “Besides, I like the feel of the wind on my face. It’s why I’m on the open road.”
And then she was gone, with her gentle feminine voice and painful girl-logic that suggested they put the double bed back in the guest room instead of the bunks that were there currently, since Jon and Brendon slept in the master with Ryan and Spencer now anyway. When the sound of her bike tires whirring against the pavement faded from within hearing range, Ryan leaned into Spencer’s side and nosed at the soft skin behind his ear.
“Can we watch a movie?”
Spencer sighed and wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist. He felt secure like this, trapped against the broadness of Spencer’s body, and protected by the circle of his arms. He felt Spencer nod against the side of his head, his beard catching in Ryan’s hair.
Ryan was about to suggest Moulin Rouge, which he’d rescued from the video store on one of his own excursions to town to pick up hats (which Spencer refused to condone and Jon just laughed at). Brendon beat him, and snapped the Aristocats off the shelf and dumped it in Spencer’s hand.
“You picked last time!”
Brendon settled himself on the couch. Willow hopped up beside him and put her head in his lap. “Yeah, but you picked both times before that,” he said and turned huge, pleading eyes at Spencer. “Besides, Spencer loves you best and lets you watch whenever you want.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “You’re such a liar. You were the one who wanted to watch the OC, not me.”
Jon climbed over the back of the couch and let Willow chew on his fingers. “Actually, the OC was me,” he said, sleepily. It was a ruse. Jon’s eyes flickered helplessly between Ryan and Brendon and the movie before a slow smile crept across his face. Ryan just wanted to hug him and hold him close and let him watch the entire second season if that’s what he wanted. Anything, if it would take away the crease that formed between Jon’s eyebrows every time he looked at the dropping thermometer mounted outside the window.
“Your DVDs, Brendon’s pick. It’s my turn.”
Brendon scowled. Jon poked him in the cheek, playfully, until Brendon jerked his head and pretended to bite Jon’s finger. “That’s not fair, Ryan Ross,” he said around a mouthful of Jon’s index. “Not fair at all.”
Jon laughed and reached over to trail gentle touches down the bit of Ryan’s wrist that was in reach. He tried to catch hold, but he was too far away to do it without moving. Ryan wanted to step forward and reach out to Jon, wanted to let him tug him down into a pile with him and Brendon and Willow, until they were tangled and breathless from laughing. He didn’t though. Spencer’s arm was tense around Ryan’s middle, holding too tightly for comfort and Ryan could feel his hot, frustrated breaths washing over the back of his neck.
“Spence?” he whispered, when Jon returned his attention back to Brendon and was tickling him until shrieks of laughter was accompanied by Willow’s tiny howls. “Spencer?” He twisted in Spencer’s arms. Spencer blinked, and when he locked his eyes with Ryan’s, they were soft and scared. “Spencer?”
“Let’s just watch the cat movie, kay Ry?”
Ryan felt his breath catch. It wasn’t like he was surprised that Spencer was siding with Brendon, not really. Brendon was right - it was his turn. He wasn’t even startled by the way Spencer hugged him closer and buried his nose in Ryan’s shoulder, and shuddered silently against him for a few moments. It was like they were kids all over again, and Spencer was hiding in Ryan’s room, hiding from bickering parents, or a bad report card, or a dentist appointment.
“Spencer?”
“I love you best, Ry,” he whispered above Brendon’s pleas for mercy and Jon’s repeated refrain of “say uncle, say uncle bitch.”
Ryan pressed as close to Spencer’s curves as his own angles allowed. “Yeah, you’re my best friend.”
Spencer snorted. From the couch, Brendon yelped and giggled. “I love you best. Not that I love you, full stop. Ryan, I love him too.”
Spencer was warm where they were touching, a kind of heat that curled in Ryan’s stomach and burned slowly and comfortably. It was familiar. “You’ve always loved him Spence.” And it was weird, because the words felt familiar too, like Ryan knew the shape of them before they were ever in his mouth.
“Yeah,” Spencer whispered. “Yeah, I guess. I just…I didn’t know how much.”
Ryan nuzzled his nose into Spencer’s shirt and tried not to grin. Brendon growled and wrestled Jon to the floor, where they just lay and panted, and let Willow lick little kisses to their faces and necks.
“Let’s watch the damn movie already,” Brendon said, deepening his voice with mock authority, and then burst into peals of laughter again when Jon bit down on his elbow. “I mean,” he gasped. “I mean, please, Spence?”
Ryan could feel Spencer pulling away, detaching himself from him and finding his own personal space again. The cold air rushing against the skin that Spencer previously occupied should have been jarring, but as Spencer bent over the DVD player and fed it a jolt of electricity, he couldn’t bring himself to feel the loss. Brendon squirmed against Jon, squashed together at the foot of the couch, and Ryan couldn’t help but feel as though maybe, finally, that there was no actual loss. This time, it was all gain. Even if he had to watch the stupid cat movie again.
+++
“The snow, Jon? Where is the snow?”
Jon’s head hurt. Brendon was too hot against him, probably from being so disappointed and pouting like a child. Ryan hadn’t slept the night before, tossing and turning in the too-small space between Jon and Spencer. Jon had almost called it quits, and had almost retreated to the pink bedroom, which still had the double bed, despite their plans to move it to the guest room.
“It’s only October, dude,” he mumbled into the bend of his elbow and tried to ignore the incessant poking of Brendon’s fingers into his ribs. “Give it time, you’ll get your snow.”
“I don’t want snow,” Ryan grumbled with as much enthusiasm as he’d been able to muster the last few weeks, although Jon was getting good at hearing the petulant frown beneath the monotone that meant he was trying not to pout.
“We live in Michigan, snow is kind of inevitable, Ry.”
Jon pictured Ryan rolling his eyes against Spencer’s infallible logic and Brendon’s chipper “Northern Michigan Ryan!”
“Guys,” Jon groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, even though the only light in the room was coming from the light above the oven that Spencer had started up earlier. He silently vowed to never teleport, ever, ever again. OR at least, never with both Ryan and Brendon and all their ‘treasures’ in tow.
“I’m never taking you guys to town ever again,” he said, making it as grumpy as possible. He might have surpassed Spencer’s current crankiness (“Three winter coats, Ryan? Where did you even find them? Where are we even going to put them?”). He didn’t know how to judge, though, so he just clenched his fingers against the cool wood of the table and prayed for the dull ache behind his eyes to fade. At least he’d grown past the nausea that seemed to persist with long distances.
“Jon, Jon,” Brendon whispered, although it was still too loud. “Jon, don’t be mad, Jon Walker.” His fingers were cool and gentle against the back of Jon’s neck and he couldn’t help keening when they massaged into his scalp. “Do you want to be my favorite again?”
Ryan snorted. Jon didn’t care. Brendon’s hands were so nice.
“Brendon, not everyone wants to be molested by you all the time.” Spencer sounded even crosser than before and Jon briefly wondered if maybe Brendon was making faces, or if he had been drawing those flowers and plastering them all over the kitchen walls again.
“‘S okay,” Jon slurred into his arm. “It’s kind of nice.”
Brendon grinned into Jon’s hairline; Jon could feel the curve of his mouth against his skin and the cool breath misting into soothing waves. “Jon loves me,” Brendon said softly, low enough that Jon thought it was maybe only meant for him to hear.
“Yeah,” Jon murmured when Brendon replaced his kiss with his fingers once again, and dug deep into the muscles. “Yeah, I do.”
+++
Brendon got his snow, uncannily enough, the next day.
“We’re snowed in,” Ryan said, staring gloomily from the front door. Jon laughed and even Spencer quirked his lips in a private grin. Brendon whooped and bounded into the half inch of powder barely covering the grass of the yard.
+++
Brendon pouted when the snow melted, but Spencer was stealthy in his distractions and waved shiny Halloween ideas in Brendon’s face. They were halfway through raiding the thrift shop for possible decorations and costume ideas before Brendon even realized Spencer’s plan.
“Dude,” he said, and lifted a blue dress from the rack and held it against himself. It was a perfect Cinderella dress but it wasn’t his size. “I see what you did here.”
Spencer played innocent and grabbed a cane and a fake beard. “I’m looking for the perfect Halloween costume. What? What did I do?”
Ryan plucked huge sunglasses off the rack and stuck them on his face. He pouted expressionlessly at himself in the mirror.
“You’re a sneaky distracting distracter, Spencer Smith,” Brendon said and put the dress back in favor of a pair of sequined jeans. “I will not be dissuaded from my quest for snow. Ryan, you cannot be Paris Hilton two years in a row. It’s no fun.”
Jon laughed and tried on his own pair of tacky sunglasses. “I don’t know man, I think these are good against snow blindness.”
“Snow blindness? Jon Jon, what does that mean? Can I really go blind in the snow? Really?”
Ryan dissolved into giggles. He still pocketed the sunglasses, though.
+++
Brendon was dressed like a teddy bear, complete with the ears on the hood of the cotton bear-jumper and little paw-mittens. Ryan wasn’t Paris Hilton, if only because Brendon pouted when Ryan had informed them all of his plans. Apparently Jon had convinced Ryan to dress up as Cher; Jon was Sonny.
“Spencer, Spencer Smith,” Brendon said into Spencer’s shoulder. Across the room Ryan was doing his impression of dancing, which mostly consisted of him wiggling his hips a little and blushing when Jon grabbed his ass and pulled them flush together. “Spencer, you’re not partying.”
Jon laughed, and tried to lead Ryan in shuffling circle around the room in time to Up on Cripple Creek.
“I’m watching,” Spencer told Brendon. His wool of his shirt was itching, and the lumberjack hat felt awkward on his head. He tried to smile, for Brendon, though. It must have come out more like a grimace.
“Spencer, we should get into the candy. It’s not Halloween until someone throws up from too much candy.”
The music was wrong for dancing. It was wrong for sugar, and it was wrong for Halloween. One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer came on and Ryan sat down, his legs stretched out over Jon’s lap. Even that was wrong, somehow, and Spencer itched to do something, but he didn’t know what.
“Spence?”
Brendon pressed along his back, the soft cotton of his bear suit brushed against Spencer’s arm where he’d rolled up his sleeves. He wasn’t Ryan, and he didn’t understand Spencer’s unspoken rules, not the way Ryan did, born of years of friendship and trial and error. He didn’t understand Spencer’s silent signals, signals Spencer wasn’t even aware of himself, most of the time. Spencer leaned back and let Brendon hook his chin over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Candy is good,” he said and when Brendon dropped a kiss under the collar of his plaid shirt, he tried not to shiver. Brendon didn’t quite grasp the concept of personal boundaries, but sometimes he didn’t need to.
+++
“I got you something,” Ryan said from the bedroom door. Brendon was running off his sugar high, out in the yard with Willow. Jon was already asleep on the couch, snoring. Spencer could hear it from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“For what?”
Ryan didn’t move into the room, just stood there half in shadow and waited. “It’s for you,” he said at last.
It was snowing again - soft little puffs of white that fell on the driveway and melted into pools of dark wet that left the pavement slick and glistening. Brendon rounded the house and did a back flip in the middle of the front yard. The moon caught in his hair, and Spencer wanted to go to the jewellery store just so he could bring back a bunch of diamonds to pin in Brendon’s hair. He’d let him. Brendon would sit still long enough for Spencer to tie them in, and then he would be bouncing to show Jon or even Ryan, exclaiming over how pretty he was, or telling them all the Spencer really meant business this time because diamonds were a girl’s best friend.
Mostly, Spencer just wanted to hear Brendon’s delighted squeal when Spencer presented him with something that glittery.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Ryan said softly, and when Spencer patted the space beside him, Ryan came and settled among the unmade sheets and wrapped his arm around Spencer’s waist. “But the one you were using was all tore up and dirty.”
The map, crisp and folded sharply and still bright with original colours, was of North America.
“I transferred everything else, but I thought you’d want to label the settlements,” Ryan whispered. Little scribbles of places and names and events crawled along the highways and the contours of the Rockies. Ryan’s tiny printing stood stark against the new paper, legible and clear. Spencer ran his fingers over the empty space near Niagara Falls.
“We could have gone with,” he said softly, and felt Ryan tuck his fingers into Spencer’s waist band. “Noelle offered.”
Ryan nosed along Spencer’s neck, tugging the shirt from his shoulders. Nimble fingers worked the buttons open and pressed, a little too chilled, against the warm skin of Spencer’s belly. “Yeah,” Ryan agreed, almost so quietly that Spencer very nearly missed it. “We could have.”
Ryan’s chest was warmer than his hands, when Ryan pulled Spencer’s shirt off and over his head. When he folded himself back over Spencer’s body, the places of contact burned and melted against each other until Spencer wasn’t sure if he was even his own person. Maybe he’d fused right into Ryan.
“It’s better this way, right?”
“Mmm,” Ryan said, and nibbled on the curve on Spencer’s shoulder. His teeth were sharp and it stung a little, followed by the tingle of cold air that followed when Ryan pulled away from the breath-warmed skin there.
Ryan’s hands were getting warmer. He worked them down Spencer’s arms, past his wrists and fingers, and then over to Spencer’s jeans, which he tugged and pulled and shoved away until Spencer was wearing just his boxers. Ryan’s striped bell bottoms followed Spencer’s jeans into a pile on the floor.
“We’re good here,” Spencer murmured when Ryan nudged him over into laying position. “I think…” Ryan dragged the blankets up to their chins. He was tucked around Spencer, filling all the empty space Spencer didn’t even know was there, didn’t even know needed to be filled. “I think this is the way it should be.”
Ryan’s smile was silent and unseen against Spencer’s lips. It was better this way.
Chapter Eleven
back to masterpost
Chapter Nine
Brendon somehow missed the way the days were getting shorter and shorter, until one day they weren’t any longer than the night. He thought that maybe here, where the trees shed their leaves and animals departed because of the cold, that the change of seasons would be more marked. He thought that maybe fall would be noticeably cooler than the day before and that maybe all the leaves would fall all at once and suddenly leave the bare skeletons stretching toward the sky, dark and lonely against the grey clouds.
Jon leaned on the rake, on the other side of the yard. His pile of leaves was about four times the size of Brendon’s, and the area he’d covered easily amounted to half the yard.
“It never ends!” he wailed at Jon’s smirk. Another leaf drifted down and landed at Brendon’s feet. “I give up! Call me when the trees decide to quit ruining all my work!”
He ignored the way Jon’s laugh followed him into the kitchen, where Ryan was taking inventory of the remaining fresh vegetables. Brendon stole an Oreo from the box beside the sink.
“Fall is mean to me, Ryan Ross,” he said sadly. Ryan shook his head.
“Yeah man,” Ryan agreed, and stuck the carrots in the fridge. “You think we could convince the guys to move south before winter happens?”
Brendon wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know. Spencer’s pretty attached.”
Ryan laughed and flicked the end of Brendon’s nose. “I think you’re kind of attached, Bren.”
Brendon didn’t want to lie, so he didn’t disagree with Ryan. They’d tough it out. They’d survived worse.
+++
Spencer had insisted. He wasn’t going to back down, not on this. Maybe Brendon would be able to make the trek in the dead of winter, but Ryan would freeze to death before reaching the end of their driveway. So he’d insisted. The shopping list, though, had surprisingly been Jon’s idea.
“It says we need hats and mitts,” Ryan said and looked through the clearance bin. “Dude, these are ugly.”
Brendon was in the grocery store with Jon, stocking up on canned vegetables and anything they thought would last the winter. Spencer pulled a scarf off the rack. It was rainbow striped with a prancing unicorn embellished on the one end. Brendon would love it.
“Dude, the last shipment was probably in March. We’re lucky they have any winter shit at all.”
Ryan pulled a pair of women’s leather gloves from the bin and tossed it aside. “Yeah, but like, ugly!”
Spencer laughed. He picked up a pair of fuzzy grey mittens, and stuffed them into their basket. “Suck it up, princess,” he said gently and bumped his hip against Ryan’s. Ryan pinched back, but he was laughing too, when he dropped navy blue hat with ear flaps into the basket, next to their previous finds.
“We need to find warm socks and…” He squinted at the list. “Warm underwear?”
Spencer snatched the list away and wandered toward the underwear section. He still found it a bit weird, just walking through the unlit store, using only a few flashlights to guide them. He kept expecting, after all this time, to see a security guard, or to have the store alarm shriek when they left without paying. He glanced over to where the empty checkout counter sat, unmanned and lonely, by the exit of the story.
“Long johns, Ryan,” Spencer said, snatching the list from Ryan’s bony fingers when Ryan managed to steal it back. “In case something happens and we don’t have heat.”
Ryan shrugged and muttered something about Brendon doing his thing. Spencer hummed in agreement, but still picked through what was the clearance rack in this section as well.
“You might want to check out the camping store.”
Spencer jumped, and Ryan made a high pitched squeak that ended with a hanger clattering nosily to the floor. The young woman blinked at them in the dim corner where she stood, partially hidden by the Fruit of the Looms.
“Um.”
She laughed. When she stepped forward, Spencer caught a glimpse of a mischievous smile and dark hair that fell in moderate tangles around her shoulder. Ryan was vibrating at his elbow, probably inching his fingers toward Spencer’s gun, even though Ryan probably didn’t need a weapon anymore, anyway.
“I try to find most of my supplies in camping stores,” she said as casually as though they were discussing spending a day on the lake before It happened, not how to survive the winter without the luxuries of society. Ryan pressed closer to Spencer’s side.
They didn’t answer her. She stared at them for a while, until it turned into a sort of staring contest. In the end, it was she who looked away, touching the plastic encasing a three-pack of white briefs. When her eyes darted back to Spencer and Ryan, her eyes were narrowed and thoughtful.
“You’re not passing through,” she said at last. She focused on something beyond Spencer’s shoulder, her gaze going glassy and distant. Her face smoothed, her mouth went lax and soft. “You live here.” When her eyes met Spencer’s again, they were round and surprised. “You actually live here.”
+++
Noelle, as she introduced herself, was cataloguing what was left of the world, apparently. Spencer sat on her right, asking her question after question, staring her down with his piercing glare. Jon was across the table from her, watching with an amused expression on his face. Ryan and Brendon sat on the display porch swing with their arms linked at the elbows. The other three, angled across the seasonal section of the store, sat around a display patio set. The light of the lamp Spencer held didn’t reach as far as Ryan’s feet.
“Do you think she’s evil?” Brendon whispered into Ryan’s neck. When Ryan turned his head, Brendon’s face was right there. Their noses bumped, but Brendon didn’t move away. “I have my pistol,” Brendon said helpfully, but his fingers were shaking where they rested against Ryan’s thigh.
“I don’t think so.” She didn’t look evil. Her backpack was battered and she did indeed look like she’d been crisscrossing the country all summer. Her hair was dirty enough to add credit to the story, but she wasn’t caked in mud or grime. She looked healthy. “I think she’s just…”
“Curious?” Brendon finished for him. Ryan peered at Noelle’s face, as she answered Spencer’s inquiries, brightly and animatedly. She was a hand talker, and when she told them about Calgary, her laugh bounced around the quiet open space surrounding them.
Brendon leaned harder against Ryan and straightened his mouth, when she mentioned Chicago. Ryan didn’t miss the way Jon sat up, or the way his spine went rigid. Noelle glanced at him thoughtfully, and leaned forward conspiratorially, and asked them if they wanted to know exactly what happened here in Tawas.
“She knows too much,” Ryan said softly. Brendon pressed closer but didn’t respond. He was still trembling. Ryan closed his eyes and listened as Spencer declined her offer and told her they were good not knowing.
“You’ve been here almost since it happened,” she said. “A week or two after? Where are you originally from?” She leaned back in the plastic chair and crossed her arms over her chest. It should have looked too self-confident, or even too casual for the circumstances, and Ryan felt the flutter of nerves in his veins at the prospect of maybe telling her too much.
“Vegas,” Spencer grunted, and didn’t elaborate. Jon didn’t add Chicago to the answer. Noelle didn’t press.
“Yeah,” she laughed. “I can see why this is better than the Mojave. I spent a week passing through. Quite inhabitable.”
Brendon whined against Ryan’s shoulder, and huh, how did Ryan not notice when Brendon practically crawled into his lap. It was a quiet sound, meant only for Ryan and Brendon, a secret sound. Noelle heard it and glanced over at them with a smile.
“Your boys want to go home, I think,” she said cheerfully, as though she hadn’t just interrupted a private moment. “Let me stay the night?”
+++
Noelle had exclaimed all over Willow, and let her give kisses on her face until Brendon tugged the dog back and pressed his nose into her fur. It was the shower next, that captured Noelle’s attention. She stared at it when Jon asked if she wanted to clean up.
“You have running water?”
Jon shrugged and shuffled. The afternoon sun slanted across the floors. It was getting dark sooner. They’d wasted a portion of their day, and Jon hated the feeling of time slipping away. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, we’re on a well system.”
Noelle looked up at him with that same faraway look in her eyes that she got sometime before saying something she really shouldn’t know. “This house is perfect for you guys,” she said before focusing back on Jon and smiling. Only when she closed the door on him, and the sound of running water drifted through the wood separating them, did Jon slump against the far wall and curse.
“Fuck.” He caught Brendon staring at him. He gave a small grin and held his arms out for Willow.
“We’re not ready for this,” Brendon asked, curling around the dog, now nestled to Jon’s chest, to steal cuddles from Jon while he was distracted. “We’re not really, are we?”
Jon closed his eyes and refused to answer. That, in itself, was answer enough.
+++
“There’s a whole settlement up in Seattle,” Noelle told them over morning coffee. Brendon peered sleepily at her, confused about why she was saying that, and even about what she was saying in general.
“A settlement?”
Ryan was fidgeting nervously on the other side of the table, rattling the spoon resting on Brendon’s plate. His hair was sticking straight up on one side, and pressed flat on the other. He looked like he’d rolled out of Spencer’s grasp and right into Brendon’s. He probably had.
“A settlement. Like a group of people all living together.” She stirred the sugar into her coffee. Brendon scrunched his face up. She chuckled at him and reached out to ruffle his hair. “A city, doofus,” she said affectionately.
Ryan sat up straighter at that. The sleep seemed to vanish from his face entirely. “A city? Like, enough people to make an actual city?”
Noelle grinned at him and hummed contentedly around a mouthful of coffee. When she swallowed she said, “It’s only a few hundred people, but yeah.”
“Fuck.” Ryan flickered his gaze at Brendon, who was still trying to piece together the new information. Brendon’s body was aching to go run around and jump and dance. He wanted to shout and holler at the top of his lungs until he was gasping for breath and his mind was just too exhausted to even think about what she was saying.
“I picked up your trail near Indianapolis,” she said, completely ignoring Brendon’s need to just be alone and puzzle over things for a while. “I thought maybe you were heading toward the Niagara Falls area. There’s another settlement there.”
Ryan was so rigid in his seat that Brendon thought he might shatter if anyone so much as breathed. They fell into a silence that consisted of Ryan quivering, and Noelle sipping at her coffee. Brendon opened his mouth to ask how big Niagara Falls was when Spencer spoke from the doorway.
“What the fuck does that mean.”
Brendon spun in his chair. Spencer was tense. His hip was cocked in a way that usually ended with Brendon being grounded (“You can’t ground me!” “Well apparently I’m the mom, so go to your fucking room.”) Brendon shrunk against his seat in an attempt to take up less space. Ryan continued to be brittle and unmoving.
Noelle didn’t seem to pick up on the icy glare Spencer was sending her, and smiled boldly. “The world remembers your passage, even if no one was there to witness it, Spencer.”
Spencer growled. “Explain,” he hissed.
“It’s like…” Noelle paused and bit her lip like she was thinking. “It’s like the world records everything that ever happened to it, like on some sort of film, and I kind of just see snapshots of what it remembers.” She tapped the side of her mug. “Like, I can sense what happened in a place. It’s what I do.”
Spencer didn’t unclench his jaw, and Brendon curled even further into himself. It was quite possible Spencer was about to just shoot his mini “temper tantrum” lightning bolts at her. Brendon still had the singe marks on his arm from the last time.
“Like your super power thing?” Jon asked, finally shuffling up behind Spencer. He was still sleep-rumpled but his hands looked sure and steady when they touched at Spencer’s hip, and Spencer relaxed into him almost immediately. “Like, your new thing since It happened?”
Noelle’s face brightened. Her lips quirked into a half smile when she nodded.
“So it’s not, like, just us then?”
Noelle laughed sharp and amused. “Oh no, no,” she said gently. “It’s definitely not just you guys.”
+++
Noelle had suggested they come with her. The invitation was abrupt, one night when she was making Willow do tricks on the porch steps. Brendon was seated beside her, his body touching hers all the way from shoulders to feet. The other guys were sitting wrapped up together on the swing with the comforter for the bedroom draped over them.
“I can’t leave them,” Brendon said distractedly and asked Willow to sit pretty. Willow cocked her head and chased her tail. Brendon gave her the treat anyway.
Noelle gave a surprised laugh and leaned a little further into the heat he was offering. She was gazing above the tree tops - now bare and desolate, reaching up toward the moon like gnarled fingers. “No, I would never ask that,” she said at last. “I meant all of you. Together. Come with me to Niagara Falls.”
Brendon glanced over to where Spencer was speaking softly into Ryan’s hair. Jon was on the other side, his fingers pulling at Spencer’s, linking together and releasing only to close around them once more.
“I don’t think…” He stopped and looked at Noelle. Her eyes were hidden in the shadows that made up the night outside their little house. “I don’t think we’d fit in anymore.”
Noelle shook her head. She was soft where Brendon was touching her. She smelled sweet from Ryan’s soap and Spencer’s shampoo, and also probably because she was a girl and they just smelled different than guys did. Brendon had maybe forgotten.
“I think you’d fit in just fine,” she murmured against the side of his face. “People have dealt with It in many ways.”
Ryan let out a startled, happy shout at something Jon said, which was followed by a half-hearted tussle that rocked the swing and shifted the blanket. Brendon grinned fondly at them. Their breaths puffed out in small clouds each time one of them laughed, or called the others dickheads.
“I don’t think we’d want to fit in,” Brendon said at last. “I think…I think this is what we want.”
+++
Noelle left on a Thursday, exactly four days after they found her lurking around in Wal-Mart. Ryan had overheard Jon offering to teleport her a short distance, but she’d laughed and declined, waving her hand and accidentally hitting Brendon in the face. “I don’t think I need the headache,” she said cheerfully, as though it still wasn’t weird that she knew too much. “Besides, I like the feel of the wind on my face. It’s why I’m on the open road.”
And then she was gone, with her gentle feminine voice and painful girl-logic that suggested they put the double bed back in the guest room instead of the bunks that were there currently, since Jon and Brendon slept in the master with Ryan and Spencer now anyway. When the sound of her bike tires whirring against the pavement faded from within hearing range, Ryan leaned into Spencer’s side and nosed at the soft skin behind his ear.
“Can we watch a movie?”
Spencer sighed and wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist. He felt secure like this, trapped against the broadness of Spencer’s body, and protected by the circle of his arms. He felt Spencer nod against the side of his head, his beard catching in Ryan’s hair.
Ryan was about to suggest Moulin Rouge, which he’d rescued from the video store on one of his own excursions to town to pick up hats (which Spencer refused to condone and Jon just laughed at). Brendon beat him, and snapped the Aristocats off the shelf and dumped it in Spencer’s hand.
“You picked last time!”
Brendon settled himself on the couch. Willow hopped up beside him and put her head in his lap. “Yeah, but you picked both times before that,” he said and turned huge, pleading eyes at Spencer. “Besides, Spencer loves you best and lets you watch whenever you want.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “You’re such a liar. You were the one who wanted to watch the OC, not me.”
Jon climbed over the back of the couch and let Willow chew on his fingers. “Actually, the OC was me,” he said, sleepily. It was a ruse. Jon’s eyes flickered helplessly between Ryan and Brendon and the movie before a slow smile crept across his face. Ryan just wanted to hug him and hold him close and let him watch the entire second season if that’s what he wanted. Anything, if it would take away the crease that formed between Jon’s eyebrows every time he looked at the dropping thermometer mounted outside the window.
“Your DVDs, Brendon’s pick. It’s my turn.”
Brendon scowled. Jon poked him in the cheek, playfully, until Brendon jerked his head and pretended to bite Jon’s finger. “That’s not fair, Ryan Ross,” he said around a mouthful of Jon’s index. “Not fair at all.”
Jon laughed and reached over to trail gentle touches down the bit of Ryan’s wrist that was in reach. He tried to catch hold, but he was too far away to do it without moving. Ryan wanted to step forward and reach out to Jon, wanted to let him tug him down into a pile with him and Brendon and Willow, until they were tangled and breathless from laughing. He didn’t though. Spencer’s arm was tense around Ryan’s middle, holding too tightly for comfort and Ryan could feel his hot, frustrated breaths washing over the back of his neck.
“Spence?” he whispered, when Jon returned his attention back to Brendon and was tickling him until shrieks of laughter was accompanied by Willow’s tiny howls. “Spencer?” He twisted in Spencer’s arms. Spencer blinked, and when he locked his eyes with Ryan’s, they were soft and scared. “Spencer?”
“Let’s just watch the cat movie, kay Ry?”
Ryan felt his breath catch. It wasn’t like he was surprised that Spencer was siding with Brendon, not really. Brendon was right - it was his turn. He wasn’t even startled by the way Spencer hugged him closer and buried his nose in Ryan’s shoulder, and shuddered silently against him for a few moments. It was like they were kids all over again, and Spencer was hiding in Ryan’s room, hiding from bickering parents, or a bad report card, or a dentist appointment.
“Spencer?”
“I love you best, Ry,” he whispered above Brendon’s pleas for mercy and Jon’s repeated refrain of “say uncle, say uncle bitch.”
Ryan pressed as close to Spencer’s curves as his own angles allowed. “Yeah, you’re my best friend.”
Spencer snorted. From the couch, Brendon yelped and giggled. “I love you best. Not that I love you, full stop. Ryan, I love him too.”
Spencer was warm where they were touching, a kind of heat that curled in Ryan’s stomach and burned slowly and comfortably. It was familiar. “You’ve always loved him Spence.” And it was weird, because the words felt familiar too, like Ryan knew the shape of them before they were ever in his mouth.
“Yeah,” Spencer whispered. “Yeah, I guess. I just…I didn’t know how much.”
Ryan nuzzled his nose into Spencer’s shirt and tried not to grin. Brendon growled and wrestled Jon to the floor, where they just lay and panted, and let Willow lick little kisses to their faces and necks.
“Let’s watch the damn movie already,” Brendon said, deepening his voice with mock authority, and then burst into peals of laughter again when Jon bit down on his elbow. “I mean,” he gasped. “I mean, please, Spence?”
Ryan could feel Spencer pulling away, detaching himself from him and finding his own personal space again. The cold air rushing against the skin that Spencer previously occupied should have been jarring, but as Spencer bent over the DVD player and fed it a jolt of electricity, he couldn’t bring himself to feel the loss. Brendon squirmed against Jon, squashed together at the foot of the couch, and Ryan couldn’t help but feel as though maybe, finally, that there was no actual loss. This time, it was all gain. Even if he had to watch the stupid cat movie again.
+++
“The snow, Jon? Where is the snow?”
Jon’s head hurt. Brendon was too hot against him, probably from being so disappointed and pouting like a child. Ryan hadn’t slept the night before, tossing and turning in the too-small space between Jon and Spencer. Jon had almost called it quits, and had almost retreated to the pink bedroom, which still had the double bed, despite their plans to move it to the guest room.
“It’s only October, dude,” he mumbled into the bend of his elbow and tried to ignore the incessant poking of Brendon’s fingers into his ribs. “Give it time, you’ll get your snow.”
“I don’t want snow,” Ryan grumbled with as much enthusiasm as he’d been able to muster the last few weeks, although Jon was getting good at hearing the petulant frown beneath the monotone that meant he was trying not to pout.
“We live in Michigan, snow is kind of inevitable, Ry.”
Jon pictured Ryan rolling his eyes against Spencer’s infallible logic and Brendon’s chipper “Northern Michigan Ryan!”
“Guys,” Jon groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, even though the only light in the room was coming from the light above the oven that Spencer had started up earlier. He silently vowed to never teleport, ever, ever again. OR at least, never with both Ryan and Brendon and all their ‘treasures’ in tow.
“I’m never taking you guys to town ever again,” he said, making it as grumpy as possible. He might have surpassed Spencer’s current crankiness (“Three winter coats, Ryan? Where did you even find them? Where are we even going to put them?”). He didn’t know how to judge, though, so he just clenched his fingers against the cool wood of the table and prayed for the dull ache behind his eyes to fade. At least he’d grown past the nausea that seemed to persist with long distances.
“Jon, Jon,” Brendon whispered, although it was still too loud. “Jon, don’t be mad, Jon Walker.” His fingers were cool and gentle against the back of Jon’s neck and he couldn’t help keening when they massaged into his scalp. “Do you want to be my favorite again?”
Ryan snorted. Jon didn’t care. Brendon’s hands were so nice.
“Brendon, not everyone wants to be molested by you all the time.” Spencer sounded even crosser than before and Jon briefly wondered if maybe Brendon was making faces, or if he had been drawing those flowers and plastering them all over the kitchen walls again.
“‘S okay,” Jon slurred into his arm. “It’s kind of nice.”
Brendon grinned into Jon’s hairline; Jon could feel the curve of his mouth against his skin and the cool breath misting into soothing waves. “Jon loves me,” Brendon said softly, low enough that Jon thought it was maybe only meant for him to hear.
“Yeah,” Jon murmured when Brendon replaced his kiss with his fingers once again, and dug deep into the muscles. “Yeah, I do.”
+++
Brendon got his snow, uncannily enough, the next day.
“We’re snowed in,” Ryan said, staring gloomily from the front door. Jon laughed and even Spencer quirked his lips in a private grin. Brendon whooped and bounded into the half inch of powder barely covering the grass of the yard.
+++
Brendon pouted when the snow melted, but Spencer was stealthy in his distractions and waved shiny Halloween ideas in Brendon’s face. They were halfway through raiding the thrift shop for possible decorations and costume ideas before Brendon even realized Spencer’s plan.
“Dude,” he said, and lifted a blue dress from the rack and held it against himself. It was a perfect Cinderella dress but it wasn’t his size. “I see what you did here.”
Spencer played innocent and grabbed a cane and a fake beard. “I’m looking for the perfect Halloween costume. What? What did I do?”
Ryan plucked huge sunglasses off the rack and stuck them on his face. He pouted expressionlessly at himself in the mirror.
“You’re a sneaky distracting distracter, Spencer Smith,” Brendon said and put the dress back in favor of a pair of sequined jeans. “I will not be dissuaded from my quest for snow. Ryan, you cannot be Paris Hilton two years in a row. It’s no fun.”
Jon laughed and tried on his own pair of tacky sunglasses. “I don’t know man, I think these are good against snow blindness.”
“Snow blindness? Jon Jon, what does that mean? Can I really go blind in the snow? Really?”
Ryan dissolved into giggles. He still pocketed the sunglasses, though.
+++
Brendon was dressed like a teddy bear, complete with the ears on the hood of the cotton bear-jumper and little paw-mittens. Ryan wasn’t Paris Hilton, if only because Brendon pouted when Ryan had informed them all of his plans. Apparently Jon had convinced Ryan to dress up as Cher; Jon was Sonny.
“Spencer, Spencer Smith,” Brendon said into Spencer’s shoulder. Across the room Ryan was doing his impression of dancing, which mostly consisted of him wiggling his hips a little and blushing when Jon grabbed his ass and pulled them flush together. “Spencer, you’re not partying.”
Jon laughed, and tried to lead Ryan in shuffling circle around the room in time to Up on Cripple Creek.
“I’m watching,” Spencer told Brendon. His wool of his shirt was itching, and the lumberjack hat felt awkward on his head. He tried to smile, for Brendon, though. It must have come out more like a grimace.
“Spencer, we should get into the candy. It’s not Halloween until someone throws up from too much candy.”
The music was wrong for dancing. It was wrong for sugar, and it was wrong for Halloween. One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer came on and Ryan sat down, his legs stretched out over Jon’s lap. Even that was wrong, somehow, and Spencer itched to do something, but he didn’t know what.
“Spence?”
Brendon pressed along his back, the soft cotton of his bear suit brushed against Spencer’s arm where he’d rolled up his sleeves. He wasn’t Ryan, and he didn’t understand Spencer’s unspoken rules, not the way Ryan did, born of years of friendship and trial and error. He didn’t understand Spencer’s silent signals, signals Spencer wasn’t even aware of himself, most of the time. Spencer leaned back and let Brendon hook his chin over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Candy is good,” he said and when Brendon dropped a kiss under the collar of his plaid shirt, he tried not to shiver. Brendon didn’t quite grasp the concept of personal boundaries, but sometimes he didn’t need to.
+++
“I got you something,” Ryan said from the bedroom door. Brendon was running off his sugar high, out in the yard with Willow. Jon was already asleep on the couch, snoring. Spencer could hear it from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“For what?”
Ryan didn’t move into the room, just stood there half in shadow and waited. “It’s for you,” he said at last.
It was snowing again - soft little puffs of white that fell on the driveway and melted into pools of dark wet that left the pavement slick and glistening. Brendon rounded the house and did a back flip in the middle of the front yard. The moon caught in his hair, and Spencer wanted to go to the jewellery store just so he could bring back a bunch of diamonds to pin in Brendon’s hair. He’d let him. Brendon would sit still long enough for Spencer to tie them in, and then he would be bouncing to show Jon or even Ryan, exclaiming over how pretty he was, or telling them all the Spencer really meant business this time because diamonds were a girl’s best friend.
Mostly, Spencer just wanted to hear Brendon’s delighted squeal when Spencer presented him with something that glittery.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Ryan said softly, and when Spencer patted the space beside him, Ryan came and settled among the unmade sheets and wrapped his arm around Spencer’s waist. “But the one you were using was all tore up and dirty.”
The map, crisp and folded sharply and still bright with original colours, was of North America.
“I transferred everything else, but I thought you’d want to label the settlements,” Ryan whispered. Little scribbles of places and names and events crawled along the highways and the contours of the Rockies. Ryan’s tiny printing stood stark against the new paper, legible and clear. Spencer ran his fingers over the empty space near Niagara Falls.
“We could have gone with,” he said softly, and felt Ryan tuck his fingers into Spencer’s waist band. “Noelle offered.”
Ryan nosed along Spencer’s neck, tugging the shirt from his shoulders. Nimble fingers worked the buttons open and pressed, a little too chilled, against the warm skin of Spencer’s belly. “Yeah,” Ryan agreed, almost so quietly that Spencer very nearly missed it. “We could have.”
Ryan’s chest was warmer than his hands, when Ryan pulled Spencer’s shirt off and over his head. When he folded himself back over Spencer’s body, the places of contact burned and melted against each other until Spencer wasn’t sure if he was even his own person. Maybe he’d fused right into Ryan.
“It’s better this way, right?”
“Mmm,” Ryan said, and nibbled on the curve on Spencer’s shoulder. His teeth were sharp and it stung a little, followed by the tingle of cold air that followed when Ryan pulled away from the breath-warmed skin there.
Ryan’s hands were getting warmer. He worked them down Spencer’s arms, past his wrists and fingers, and then over to Spencer’s jeans, which he tugged and pulled and shoved away until Spencer was wearing just his boxers. Ryan’s striped bell bottoms followed Spencer’s jeans into a pile on the floor.
“We’re good here,” Spencer murmured when Ryan nudged him over into laying position. “I think…” Ryan dragged the blankets up to their chins. He was tucked around Spencer, filling all the empty space Spencer didn’t even know was there, didn’t even know needed to be filled. “I think this is the way it should be.”
Ryan’s smile was silent and unseen against Spencer’s lips. It was better this way.
Chapter Eleven
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