100 steps: study
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[3] a break in routine - mid-november
Brendon's a cool little dude, Jon thinks. He's got way too much energy; he's a little too loud, a little too enthusiastic. He smiles too wide when he's hiding, but he sings in the shower when he's happy and Jon likes to hear that. He doesn't know quite what's the whole story with Brendon Boyd Urie, but then again they've only been roommates for a couple of months.
Spencer, on the other hand, is an open book. He's hiding too, but he's way less effective at it than Brendon. There's also the fact that he's basically hiding in plain sight, two hundred dollar shoes and ties that have to be dry-cleaned aside. He rides a bike over to the college everyday but it's top of the line. He's quiet, but there are times when Jon catches him looking over to the front room. It's covered in Brendon's guitar and well-worn piano, music scattered about. He's seen Spencer pick up a sheet of music, hands tapping out a beat half a minute later.
Jon's thought about asking, but he's seen Brendon get shut down after asking a question Spencer deemed too personal. But he pays his rent on time, doesn't have wild parties. Jon will admit to being intrigued. Both his roommates are mysteries and he wants very much to be in the loop.
He's patient though. There's time.
*
"Yo, Spence."
Spencer looks up from the mess he's got spread out across the kitchen table. There are circles under his eyes and his hair is sticking up in a million different directions. Jon thinks it's pretty adorable and he'd say something, but Spencer's tongue is sharp. Especially around exams apparently.
A scratchy, disgruntled, "What, Walker?" shakes him out of his thoughts and he waggles his eyebrows. It's ridiculous looking he knows. Brendon expounded at length last week about his inability to correctly execute the leering eyebrow. Brendon is a master of course. Jon even made him a certificate last week. It's currently sitting in a frame over the fireplace.
(Which had brought about the following conversation:
"You should probably chop some firewood, Jon Walker."
"Why? Are your arms broken?"
"Of course not! You just scream burly lumberjack, Jon, therefore it's your duty to chop wood."
"I'll show you chopped wood."
"No! Jon. Jon, I'm sorr--" A fifteen minute noogie session had then occurred.
Jon may be a bit enamoured of Brendon. He's definitely indulgent.)
"Jon. Jon."
"What?"
"What?"
"Huh?"
Spencer growls.
"Oh. Oh, yeah." Maybe he shouldn't have smoked so much weed in his youth, Jon thinks. "Brendon's finishing up some stuff at the school, I was going to go drop off something to munch on. Wanna come with?"
He gets an exasperated look, one that pointedly says 'Do you see what I'm doing here?' Jon grins, walking over to shut one of the three books on the table. Spencer growls again and Jon thinks it sounds a lot like Clover when you interrupt her while she's napping in the sunbeam from the front windows. He resists the urge to scratch Spencer under the chin. He's a risk taker, yes, but he's not stupid.
"Come on, Spence. You've been at this for three hours all ready. It's time for a break, you've gotta be hungry." As if on cue, Spencer's stomach gurgles. And that's an interesting shade of red. Jon laughs, touching Spencer's shoulder lightly. Spencer's a little touch-shy, as Brendon calls it. He keeps himself at distance, pulled into himself too much.
Spencer sighs, staring down at the textbook, closed with Jon's hand still resting on it. "I really need to study--"
"Spencer," Jon states seriously, "I will tell Brendon you made me sad. And then you'll get the look. Are you prepared for those consequences?" He watches a corner of Spencer's mouth twitch; he knows exactly what Jon's talking about. It was like you kicked a puppy, seriously. Jon's pretty sure Brendon learned it from his kids. Six year olds are notoriously good at shit like that.
"Come on, Spencer," he tries again, taking a chance by tugging on Spencer's elbow. "Let's go distract Bden for once." With another disgruntled sigh that fools no one, Spencer rises.
"Whatever, Walker, you just wanna go play with the finger paints. And drag me down with you." Sliding on his hoodie, Spencer arches a single eyebrow at Jon. Jon's pretty sure his innocent face is totally not working. The eyeroll a second later proves it.
"Fine, fine. Let's get this over with." He heads for the front door, grabbing Jon's keys from the hallway table, "I'm driving though."
Instead of protesting, Jon yells, "What are we getting to eat?"
"How the fuck should I know? I thought you all ready decided that-!" Jon just grins at Spencer's retreating back.
He can't wait to see Brendon's face.
[4] 1 tequila, 2 tequila... - early december
x-posted here on 01/18/11.
[3] a break in routine - mid-november
Brendon's a cool little dude, Jon thinks. He's got way too much energy; he's a little too loud, a little too enthusiastic. He smiles too wide when he's hiding, but he sings in the shower when he's happy and Jon likes to hear that. He doesn't know quite what's the whole story with Brendon Boyd Urie, but then again they've only been roommates for a couple of months.
Spencer, on the other hand, is an open book. He's hiding too, but he's way less effective at it than Brendon. There's also the fact that he's basically hiding in plain sight, two hundred dollar shoes and ties that have to be dry-cleaned aside. He rides a bike over to the college everyday but it's top of the line. He's quiet, but there are times when Jon catches him looking over to the front room. It's covered in Brendon's guitar and well-worn piano, music scattered about. He's seen Spencer pick up a sheet of music, hands tapping out a beat half a minute later.
Jon's thought about asking, but he's seen Brendon get shut down after asking a question Spencer deemed too personal. But he pays his rent on time, doesn't have wild parties. Jon will admit to being intrigued. Both his roommates are mysteries and he wants very much to be in the loop.
He's patient though. There's time.
*
"Yo, Spence."
Spencer looks up from the mess he's got spread out across the kitchen table. There are circles under his eyes and his hair is sticking up in a million different directions. Jon thinks it's pretty adorable and he'd say something, but Spencer's tongue is sharp. Especially around exams apparently.
A scratchy, disgruntled, "What, Walker?" shakes him out of his thoughts and he waggles his eyebrows. It's ridiculous looking he knows. Brendon expounded at length last week about his inability to correctly execute the leering eyebrow. Brendon is a master of course. Jon even made him a certificate last week. It's currently sitting in a frame over the fireplace.
(Which had brought about the following conversation:
"You should probably chop some firewood, Jon Walker."
"Why? Are your arms broken?"
"Of course not! You just scream burly lumberjack, Jon, therefore it's your duty to chop wood."
"I'll show you chopped wood."
"No! Jon. Jon, I'm sorr--" A fifteen minute noogie session had then occurred.
Jon may be a bit enamoured of Brendon. He's definitely indulgent.)
"Jon. Jon."
"What?"
"What?"
"Huh?"
Spencer growls.
"Oh. Oh, yeah." Maybe he shouldn't have smoked so much weed in his youth, Jon thinks. "Brendon's finishing up some stuff at the school, I was going to go drop off something to munch on. Wanna come with?"
He gets an exasperated look, one that pointedly says 'Do you see what I'm doing here?' Jon grins, walking over to shut one of the three books on the table. Spencer growls again and Jon thinks it sounds a lot like Clover when you interrupt her while she's napping in the sunbeam from the front windows. He resists the urge to scratch Spencer under the chin. He's a risk taker, yes, but he's not stupid.
"Come on, Spence. You've been at this for three hours all ready. It's time for a break, you've gotta be hungry." As if on cue, Spencer's stomach gurgles. And that's an interesting shade of red. Jon laughs, touching Spencer's shoulder lightly. Spencer's a little touch-shy, as Brendon calls it. He keeps himself at distance, pulled into himself too much.
Spencer sighs, staring down at the textbook, closed with Jon's hand still resting on it. "I really need to study--"
"Spencer," Jon states seriously, "I will tell Brendon you made me sad. And then you'll get the look. Are you prepared for those consequences?" He watches a corner of Spencer's mouth twitch; he knows exactly what Jon's talking about. It was like you kicked a puppy, seriously. Jon's pretty sure Brendon learned it from his kids. Six year olds are notoriously good at shit like that.
"Come on, Spencer," he tries again, taking a chance by tugging on Spencer's elbow. "Let's go distract Bden for once." With another disgruntled sigh that fools no one, Spencer rises.
"Whatever, Walker, you just wanna go play with the finger paints. And drag me down with you." Sliding on his hoodie, Spencer arches a single eyebrow at Jon. Jon's pretty sure his innocent face is totally not working. The eyeroll a second later proves it.
"Fine, fine. Let's get this over with." He heads for the front door, grabbing Jon's keys from the hallway table, "I'm driving though."
Instead of protesting, Jon yells, "What are we getting to eat?"
"How the fuck should I know? I thought you all ready decided that-!" Jon just grins at Spencer's retreating back.
He can't wait to see Brendon's face.
[4] 1 tequila, 2 tequila... - early december
x-posted here on 01/18/11.