worse things have happened at sea - part three
master post | part one | part two | part three | mix | art
~
Brendon may have warned him all those months ago about intolerance, but as Jon looks around, none of that is evident. Half the town is crowded inside the walls of the bar. Going up on his toes, Jon looks around for the birthday boy.
Greta and Carden are having a heated discussion in one corner, Bob's arm curved around her shoulders. Jon drags his gaze across the room, eyebrows rising. Who knew that the 60-year old librarian could move like that? He pops his arm up, snapping a quick crowd shot, before moving on. Half-turning, he bumps into someone. An apology is on his lips when he continues around to find the object of his search standing next to him.
The Beckett's oldest son is draped across Brendon, long limbs wrapped around his shoulder. It looks a little ridiculous; Bill has a good six-plus inches on Brendon. Jon frowns. "Brendon-"
"Jon!" Brendon interrupts. "Jonjonjon, is it time for presents yet?"
The enthusiastic question is helped along by a flailing arm, beer in hand. It's mostly empty, so only a few drops land on Jon's shoes. As much as he hates them, Jon’s glad the dress code for work requires them.
"You've already opened your presents," Bill slurs helpfully. Brendon gives him a disdainful look, before saying, "I haven't opened Jon's present yet." Another arm fling and Jon reaches out.
Brendon’s drunk, but not horribly so. Jon pops the beer out of Brendon's hand, making his way around the back of the bar. Brendon pouts at the glass of water that lands on the counter in front of him, but accepts it readily when Jon tells him, "Give it a bit, Bden, then I'll let you have your present. Okay?"
Brendon nods, taking a big gulp of water even as Bill tugs him away. Brendon looks back over his shoulder before they disappear into the crowd, a wide smile spreading across his face. His face is flushed from the alcohol and the heat inside the bar, there's a brightness in his eyes that belies more than the alcohol and Jon can't help grinning back.
A handful of people are still hanging around as Jon slides the last batch of wine glasses back onto the rack. Brendon's slumped over the bar, head on his forearms. Something garbled comes from his general direction and Jon pokes the top of his head. "What?"
Although his eyes are a little red-rimmed when he looks up, there's no slur to Brendon’s words when he says, "Thank you."
Jon tilts his head to the side. "For what?" He hasn't even given Brendon his birthday present yet.
"For not letting me get thoroughly trashed." He points a knowing finger at Jon. "Although, I believe a horrific hangover is a rite of passage for any newly turned 21-year-old."
Jon shrugs, grinning. "I've seen you hung over, dude. I was just sparing myself all the moaning and groaning."
"Lies, Jon Walker. Horrible, horrible lies. You love me and didn't want me to suffer unduly." Jon wipes down the bar one last time. That's not entirely untrue. Tossing the dishtowel in the wash basket, he looks back up.
"You ready for your present?" Brendon nearly falls off the stool in his haste, causing Jon to laugh.
"Really?" He makes grabby hands at Jon. "Finally?">
There's so much enthusiasm on Brendon's face that for a second, Jon's a little unsure if his present is as good as he thinks it is. Shaking it off, he motions for Brendon to stay there and heads back into Bob's office. He didn't bother to wrap it, just having found the right frame this morning.
When he gets back out to the bar, Brendon's shifting back and forth, one foot to the other. He's obviously making an effort, hands behind his back. Jon looks down at the photo in his hands and mumbles, "It's kind of lame, especially since I keep giving them out-" Greta's got hers right behind the reception desk. It makes Jon blush every time he walks in. "But I think you'll really like this one."
He hands it over.
It's Brendon and Bo, back in the fall before the weather had turned and Bo took off for parts unknown again. The two of them are sprawled across the forest floor-Brendon on his back, the wolf laying opposite him, head resting on Brendon's out-flung arm-looking at each other, the sun dancing over the two of them.
It takes Brendon two tries before he speaks. His voice breaks on Jon's name and Jon rolls on up on his toes for a second before he asks, "You like it then?"
Brendon sets it carefully on the bar, lip between his teeth, before he flings his arms around Jon. The hug is almost uncomfortable, but Jon hugs back. There's a whispered Thanks for staying in his ear and he nods. He's about to let go when the door to the bar opens.
"Sorry-" Jon clears his throat. The guy's a little scruffy, not that Jon's one to talk right now. "Sorry," he says again. "We're closing up." Brendon doesn't move, his arms still tight around Jon.
"Yeah, I apologize. It's just that, um, someone outside-" He motions over his shoulder, "-said that I might be able to find Brendon here? Brendon Urie?"
Jon frowns even as Brendon goes absolutely still against him. The stranger's eyes, bright blue even across the room, sharpen on the two of them.
"Brendon?" he asks.
Oh.
Jon doesn't say anything in the quiet that follows. Brendon is so still that Jon's not even sure he's breathing. He tightens the arm still wrapped around Brendon. "Bden?"
Spencer frowns at the nickname, taking a couple of steps forward. Brendon finally turns around, staring at the floor and avoiding Spencer's gaze. As a show of support, Jon keeps an arm around his waist. The air is full of tension, neither Brendon nor Spencer seemingly willing to speak first. It gives Jon time to study Spencer.
He knows that Spencer's a few months younger than Brendon, which means he shouldn't even be in the bar. But there's a quiet confidence in him that belies his age. He's taller than both Jon and Brendon, but not as tall as Bill. Jon can picture it, Brendon and Spencer, on a college campus somewhere. They'd look good together.
Shaking the thought away, Jon opens his mouth to break the silence when Spencer does it for him.
"Happy Birthday.”
Although the words are quiet, they spur Brendon into motion. Jon's arm falls away as Brendon steps toward Spencer. "What the fuck are you doing here, Spence?"
"Well." A muscle twitches in his jaw. "It took me nearly two years to find my best friend's sorry ass-" From the corner of his eye, Jon catches Brendon's fingers curl into a fist. "-or I would have been here sooner."
Brendon looks away, not responding, and Spencer visibly deflates.
There's exhaustion is in every line of his body, tiredness in the way his shoulders slump. Running a hand through his hair, Spencer sighs.
"Bden-" His gaze glances over at Jon before moving back to Brendon. "Brendon, I don't want to fight. I just-" He sighs again. "You disappeared. I came back from Econ and you were-you were just gone." He moves forward and Brendon jerks, pulling away from Jon's arm and moving behind him.
"I can't do this," Brendon mutters. Jon reaches out, but his hand gets ignored.
"Brendon-" Spencer protests, moving forward. But Brendon's already slipped through to the back by the time Spencer reaches Jon. He moves to follow, but Jon stops him, a hand on his arm. Spencer glares at him, but Jon holds on.
"You should give him some time," Jon tells him. "Brendon will cool down. He's just a little overwhelmed right now." He offers Spencer a small smile. "You know that, right?"
Some of the tension seeps out him, but Spencer's voice is still a little belligerent when he says, "I know that, yeah." Spencer swings around to face him fully. From this close, he's a little intimidating. Jon doesn't move. "How do you? Are you his boyfriend?"
Choking on a startled laugh, Jon says, "What? No!" He can feel his cheeks getting warm and he hurries on with, "No, of course not. Just a friend."
"Oh." The tension in Spencer's body eases. "Okay."
Something makes Jon add, "Best friend." Spencer's mouth tightens, but doesn't say anything else.
The two of them stand there in silence until Jon gives himself a little mental slap. He asks, "So you just got in, right?" Spencer nods. "Got a hotel room yet?" A head shake this time. Jon nods himself. "Well, if you'll wait out front, I can lock up and show you the closest motel. Sound good?"
A flash of relief crosses Spencer's face before it settles back to cool neutral. "I'd appreciate it. Please," he adds as an afterthought, tone polite.
It makes Jon grin for some reason.
~
Greta's starting to fret by the time noon rolls around the next day. After the fourth time Jon's phone beeps with a text message, he rolls out of bed and heads toward Brendon's room. His door had been closed last night when Jon finally got home, locked tight. An obvious sign that Brendon was not ready to talk.
The door is wide open when Jon shuffles down the hallway. Frowning, he pokes his head inside.
"Brendon?"
The sheets are rumpled, but since Brendon hardly ever makes the bed anyway, Jon can't really tell if Brendon slept in his own bed. He moves further down the hallway, raising his voice, "Brendon?"
The only response is Dylan, meowing plaintively as she wanders out of the kitchen. Jon reaches down and the cat lifts up to bump his fingers.
"Where did he go, Bid D?" he asks. She meows again and sits back, looking up at him. His phone beeps again.
JON WALKER.
He groans, Greta's worry is evident in every capital letter. WHERE DID YOU HIDE THE BODY OF MY REPAIRMAN? A few seconds later: AND WHO IS THE BLUE-EYED HOTTIE EATING LUNCH AT CARDEN'S?
"Jesus," Jon mutters. News travels ridiculously fast. Shaking his head, Jon makes his way back to his room to get dressed.
It takes Jon a little while, but he finally figures out where Brendon's hiding.
"You realize you're going to have to come down and talk to him eventually, right?"
Jon climbs over a couple of haystacks, settling in beside Brendon. "Spencer doesn't strike me as a particularly patient kind of guy."
Brendon huffs out a laugh. "He's not." Slumping sideways, he rests his head on Jon's shoulder. After a second, he mumbles, "Took you long enough, JWalk."
That earns Brendon a poke in the leg. "Hey, I had a long night." That gets a snort. He adds, "Also, I had to go through the Greta Inquisition. She wanted to know about Spencer." Brendon stiffens a little next to him. "But since I don't know much and it's not my story, I couldn't tell her much."
"Thanks," Brendon says quietly. They sit there, not saying anything.
Finally, Brendon breaks the silence with, "I just didn't really expect to see him again." There's a huge sigh. "You know?"
Jon nods. "Yeah, I get it." He bumps his head against Brendon's, adding, "But I'm fairly sure he's not going anywhere any time soon. So." Brendon sighs again.
A few minutes later, Jon nudges him with a shoulder. Standing up, he offers a hand. "Now come on, it's meatloaf tonight and I'm not missing that. Even for your lovelorn ass." Brendon glares, but lets Jon pull him to his feet without protest.
Greta's meatloaf is really good.
~
As it turns out, Jon's right, Spencer stays ... and Brendon continues to ignore him like the plague. So Jon spends a lot of the next ten days rolling his eyes in Brendon's general vicinity while giving out hugs. Every time he tries to talk to him about it, Brendon changes the subject. Or puts on his headphones. Or turns the television up louder.
Spencer apparently gets fed up with it, too. Jon comes home to find him sitting in the hallway outside the apartment.
"Right," Jon mutters to himself as Spencer gets up. Once the door's open, he steps inside. Turning around, he looks at Spencer, standing tall and determined. "Right," he repeats.
"Come on in."
Spencer's surprisingly easy to talk to. They discuss the weather, Stamps, and Carden's veggie lasagna. They discuss everything but Brendon.
It's not until his phone beeps with the message you coming to dinner? from Greta, that Jon realizes they've been talking for over an hour.
"Hey," Jon says abruptly, interrupting Spencer's ode to The Beanery's iced chai latte freeze-thing. "You hungry?"
Dinner is an awkward affair.
Spencer keeps trying to engage Brendon in conversation, but gets a continuous cold shoulder. At one point, Brendon starts to get up and leave. Only he chooses exactly the wrong moment because Greta's passing behind him. She's obviously fascinated by the whole thing, so Brendon gets a hand on his shoulder.
Bob just looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
After dinner, Jon tries to catch Brendon, to talk to him, but Brendon just looks at him with those big, sad brown eyes. It's Spencer that puts a hand out this time, stopping him. Jon sighs and they both go help Greta clean up. It's a full on interrogation from that point on, but Bob manages to drag Greta away before any really embarrassing questions.
Still, Spencer's face is bright red and he looks a little uncomfortable. Jon has to work really hard not to laugh.
It's a couple days later when Spencer 'bumps' into Jon as he's getting off work, and Jon thinks that there's really no reason for him to be ignoring Spencer too. Besides, it's his duty as a friend to check him out, so they wander around for an hour, finally up at The Beanery.
Spencer is wickedly sarcastic and still easy to talk to, Jon finds. It's a little after eleven by the time he gets back to the apartment. The door to Brendon's room is shut again, the sound of Jimmy Eat World floating down the hallway. There's no answer when Jon knocks. Shaking his head, Jon heads down to his own room.
Brendon will come around eventually. Spencer means too much to him, Jon knows, to keep himself closed off for too long.
At least that's what he's hoping.
~
"Hey."
Jon looks up to find Brendon standing behind the couch, a tentative smile on his face. Even though he can't see, Jon knows from the set of his shoulders, that Brendon's hands are shoved deep in to his pockets. He looks about twelve years old and Jon smiles back.
Spencer chooses that moment to lean his head back and say, "Brendonnnnnn." He grins and Brendon's smile strains just a little. And then he notices the beer bottle Spencer's currently waving around.
His eyes narrow and he turns to Jon. "Jonathan Jacob Walker. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor? Shame on you!" Jon can tell he's trying to lighten his mood, so he holds out his own beer and says, "Shhh, don't tell."
That gets him a grateful look as Brendon takes the proffered beverage. "He's a total lightweight, you know?" Indicating Spencer with his bottle, "Never partied when we were in college."
"Ryan didn't like it," Spencer mutters, waving his hand over the back of the couch a second later.
"Ryan?" Jon asks.
"His bff," Brendon responds, just as Spencer says, "George Ryan Ross!" He starts giggling and Jon looks at Brendon. Shrugging, Brendon takes a sip of his beer, leaning forward against the back of the couch.
"George Ryan Ross!!" Spencer repeats. Adding, "Brendon Boyd Urie!" He points to Jon. "Jonathan Jacob Wal-"
"-ker," Jon finishes, laughing at Spencer's delighted face. "Spencer Smith. Fits right in then, yeah?"
Spencer nods, a big grin still on his face. Jon makes a mental note to maybe not let him have so many next time. The thought is broken by Brendon's soft-spoken, "Spencer James Smith."
Spencer leans back again, a wide, toothy smile and mumbles, "S'right." He lifts his beer up and Brendon smiles back, clinking his own against it.
~
Spencer's phone beeps, interrupting him. Absently, he picks it up, doing a double-take at whatever's on the screen. "Shit." He flips it open and begins muttering, "Shitshitshit."
"What is it, Spence?" Jon asks. Brendon makes an inquisitive noise next to him. A second later, Spencer sighs loudly and flops back in his chair. Brendon pokes his leg. "Whatwhatwhat was the shitshitshit for?"
"The bank apparently called the house, to alert me on my balance." Spencer gives another heavy sigh. "And now Dad wants me to come home."
From the corner of his eye, Jon watches Brendon's face fall for a moment before he makes it carefully blank again. "That sucks," Brendon says and Jon agrees.
"Fuck," Spencer mutters, slumping back into his chair. "This seriously blows." Jon watches Brendon as he does his best not to stare at Spencer. Nobody says anything for a while.
They're on the way back to the apartment, an air of solemnity around them when Jon offers up, "You could try and get a job?"
He feels Brendon twitch beside him, but he doesn't say anything. Spencer grunts.
"It's off-season in a town that's hardly big enough to be a dot on the map-" Brendon makes a noise and Spencer waves hand. "You know what I mean, Bren." There's another sigh and Jon nearly laughs as they mirror each other, shoving hands deep in their pockets. "I'm pretty sure it's a lost cause."
They round the corner. Carden is outside his place, piling dirty plates into a tray. Jon nods at him, asking Spencer, "It's worth a shot though. Right?"
"Yeah, yeah," Spencer snorts. Waving a hand toward Carden, he says sarcastically, "Hey Mike, can I have a job?"
He gets a, "Be here at six in the morning," and Jon has to reach out to steady Spencer when he stumbles. Carden hip-checks his way back into the restaurant without another word as they all stand there in surprise. Finally, Brendon starts laughing.
It's quiet at first, but pretty soon Jon's joining him, then Spencer. There's still a little shell-shock on Spencer's face, but the tension has left his shoulders. Without looking, Jon knows Brendon looks the same.
As they continue walking, Spencer says, "What the hell is this town?" Jon laughs again.
Lorelei Springs is something else indeed.
~
So Spencer stays again and Jon watches Brendon slowly get used to this fact. Mostly.
Once, about a month or so after Spencer starts at Carden's place, Jon walks through the apartment door in time to hear Spencer half-shout, "I'm not fucking leaving, dammit!"
Both their heads swivel in Jon's direction and he can see the tension in Brendon's jaw, the way his teeth are clenched. Jon says nothing, just raises his eyebrows. A moment later, Brendon turns, crossing his arms and heading toward his room. He throws a terse, "Whatever," over his shoulder. The door slams behind him.
"Oh my god," Spencer mutters."He's twelve, I swear."
Jon's got a pretty good idea, but he asks anyway. "What's going on?"
"I was stupid," Spencer replies. "I said something about sending a formal letter of withdrawal to school and he kind of lost his shit."
He deliberately doesn't think of the remaining semester on his own degree. Instead, "It is a pretty big deal, Spence."
Jon throws up a hand at the glare he gets.
"Hey. I am the last person to cast a stone in this scenario, okay?" Spencer tilts his head at that, frowning. Jon hurries on, "You've obviously made your decision, right?"
Spencer nods.
"He'll get over it. Besides," Jon can't help adding. "He really likes having you here."
Spencer beams at him and Jon can't help but smile back. Spencer's smiles are more than a little contagious.
Later that night, Jon wakes to find Brendon sliding into bed next to him. He doesn't say anything, just lifts his arm and wraps a hand over Brendon's shoulder.
"This is a little gay, you know," Jon finally whispers, getting a snort and a quiet, "Shut up, Walker."
Sleep comes fairly quickly them both after that.
>>*<<
Jon watches.
It's something that he's always done and after everything that's happened, especially getting back into photography, he sees a lot.
He sees the ease with which Brendon and Spencer fall back into their friendship. Over a while, he watches Brendon lose that slightly tense edge that always seemed to be hiding under his skin. Spencer smiles all the time, effortlessly charming most everyone in his path. He's easy with touches, too. Something that Jon thinks is both a boon and a bane.
The sadness that used to make Jon's heart feel like lead doesn't press quite as hard now. Sometimes he almost feels guilty about that, like maybe he's forgetting Cassie. It's that, and the way Brendon leans into those easy hugs that makes him seek out Spencer one afternoon.
"So here's the deal, Spence."
Spencer's eyes snap open and he lifts his head off the wall as Jon steps up in front of him. His apron, emblazoned with Carden's ridiculous bird logo, is still pristine white even under the heat of the late summer sun. The thin skin under his eyes is a little dark, like he hasn't been sleeping. Jon feels bad for about two seconds before he remembers that he's here for Brendon.
"Here's the deal," he repeats, standing as tall as he can. "Brendon's more than a little in love with you. Which-" he holds a finger up as Spencer opens his mouth, straightening up, "you obviously know."
Spencer slumps back against the wall with a sigh. "Yeah, I do know." Jon watches the expressions trip over Spencer's face and after a second, leans a shoulder against the wall next to him.
"Here's the thing," he repeats, staring down at the towel Spencer's twisting in his hands. "You coming here completely threw him for a loop, right?" Spencer nods, keeping his own gaze down as well. "And he's still kind of messed up with the whole deal with this family-"
The hands tighten around the rag, knuckles going white before Jon hears a deep inhale and exhale next to him.
"-and I think it's pretty amazing that you came looking for him. It shows you obviously care about him."
Jon moves his gaze to Spencer's profile. Even with the beard, he notes vaguely, Spencer's still kind of pretty. It's easy to see why Brendon fell, really. Especially after getting to know him.
"You're a good guy, Spence." Jon says quietly. "And I can't say that I'm not happy myself for the chance to call you friend-" The corner of Spencer's mouth quirks up momentarily, but falls away at Jon's, "But I'm fairly sure that you're only making it harder on Brendon by staying here."
"What!?" Pushing off the wall, Spencer turns to Jon. Surprise is written all over his face. "You think I should leave?"
"I just-" Jon shrugs a shoulder. "What are you doing, Spence?"
Spencer shakes his head, confusion on his face. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jon asks, "Have you thought about it?"
"Thought about what?" Spencer's voice is getting lower, frustration and confusion making it rough.
"Brendon," Jon answers. He's getting a little frustrated himself. Spencer's not stupid, he knows this. "Being with Brendon. Because that's what he wants, you know."
"That's what he wants and I'm pretty sure you're straight and you know what that means?" Jon pushes on without letting Spencer answer. "That means you're selfish, staying here, pushing, when you know how Brendon feels about you. You realize that, right? How selfish that is?"
He moves off the wall, stepping into Spencer's space and staring up at him. "He's in love with you, Spence. He wants to be with you, hold your hand when you walk down the sidewalk." Jon pokes Spencer in the chest. "He wants to kiss you."
Spencer's eyes widen. Jon keeps pushing. "Have you thought about that? About kissing Brendon?" Spencer's mouth opens, but he doesn't say anything, looking away.
"It's selfish, you know? It's like-" Jon waves a hand. He's actually starting to get a little angry. "Like, putting a treat in front of an animal and leading it on. But never actually rewarding it. And you've never even kissed a boy before, have you-"
Jon stumbles a little, shoulder bumping the brick wall, as Spencer's mouth moves over his.
They don't talk about it.
Jon barely even lets himself think about it. It's just been a while, and the only person he'd kissed in years was Cassie. He's still lonely, that's all, and kisses are just kisses. So, yeah, he doesn't think about it.
Not the way Spencer crowded him. Having to tilt his chin up. The strange sensation of a beard against his own. Or how Spencer's lips were slightly chapped, a little rough.
They don't talk about it.
~
Spencer steps up his game after that, taking whatever Jon initiated in the alley like a challenge.
And to be honest, Jon doesn't catch it at first. He's too focused on trying to act normal. Which, there's no reason to act natural. He's totally acting normal. Anyway.
It's not like Brendon doesn't love to touch, to be in people's space. Both Jon and Spencer oblige him easily, letting him slide under an arm (Spencer) or hang off his back (Jon). Brendon's very touch-oriented, comfortable in both their presences now. So no, Jon doesn't catch it at first.
It's not until he's bringing in a set of beers to movie night and sees Brendon tucked tight against Spencer side, talking a mile a minute about the sparrow that he'd had to catch up at the inn. They both look up, Brendon grabbing for his beer, that Jon looks past him to see the look on Spencer's face.
It's challenging, like he's expecting Jon to say something. The only reason Jon keeps his mouth shut, handing over Spencer's beer, is the slight uncertainty in his eyes.
It doesn't stop there.
Every time Jon turns around, it's something. Spencer standing too close, Spencer leaning in to talk to Brendon. He's holding doors and even pulls out Brendon's chair once. Brendon had burst out laughing, giving a curtsey in return. Spencer had put it off as a joke, but Jon catches the little frown on his face when he sits down.
It doesn’t take long before the attention starts to wear on Brendon.
Jon watches as the skin tightens around the corner of Brendon’s eyes every time Spencer touches him, the way his body tenses just a little when an arm gets thrown around his shoulders. There’s been no outright declaration of intentions on Spencer’s part and Jon watches as the attention just confuses Brendon more.
It’s obviously stressing Brendon out and Jon waits for Brendon to come talk to him. A coward’s way out, yes, but Jon’s not sure how to bring the whole thing up without something slipping about what happened in the alley.
He’s being a shit friend, something that’s stressing him out. Brendon’s picked up on that, too, which only makes Jon feel even worse.
There’s a train wreck coming and Jon doesn’t have a clue how to stop it.
~
The birthday party for Spencer is in full swing, smaller than Brendon's, but a number of people had shown up. Enough that it takes Jon a second to get a glimpse of them when he hears Brendon's startled, "Spencer, wha-?" from across the room.
Spencer's been in Brendon's space ever more than usual tonight. Neither one had really noticed since they'd both been drinking. Sure enough, when Jon catches a view of them, there's a beer in Spencer's left hand. His other hand is resting on Brendon's hip, fingers curled into one of the belt loops there. As Jon watches, Spencer dips his chin down to say something. Before he can though, Brendon puts a hand on his chest and pushes back. His eyes look a little wild.
Jon starts moving.
Relief floods Brendon's face when he catches sight of Jon. He tries stepping away, but Spencer's not letting him get very far.
"Jon!"
"Hey guys," Jon says. Offering a small smile, he asks, "Having a good birthday, Spence?"
Spencer smiles, bright and wide. From the corner of his eye, Jon can see the tension in Brendon slip just a little. It's back in full force when Spencer continues, "It'd be even better if Brendon would come home with me."
Jon's shocked at the bluntness. So is Brendon. Twisting away, he grits out a terse, "What the hell, Spencer?"
With a cocked hip, Spencer tells him, "I think I made it pretty clear."
"No." Brendon shakes his head, obviously startled by the whole thing. "No, it's really not. You're straight, Spencer." He says it like he needs it to be true. "Remember Haley? You're straight."
There's a flash of anger in Spencer's eyes and Jon reaches a hand out, but Spencer just glares at him before turning back to Brendon. "Maybe I'm not as straight at you think I am."
Brendon's responding laugh is startled, a tinge of hysteria on its edges. "Yes, Spencer, you are."
Jon sees the train wreck about to hit in the tiny glance Spencer sends his way. "Don't-" he warns in a low hiss. Spencer ignores him.
"I kissed Jon-" he flings a hand toward Jon as if there was any clarification needed. "And I liked it. So maybe I'm not as straight at you-"
"What?" Brendon interrupts, shock evident in his voice. Jon closes his eyes, breathing in. When he opens them again, Brendon's staring at him. "Jon?" He hates the way Brendon's voice sounds. Spencer stills next to them.
"Brendon-" Jon reaches out, but in a flurry of motion, Brendon pulls away, stepping back. The air around them is quieter now; Jon can feel eyes on the three of them standing there.
"Wow," Brendon spits out. "Not only kissing boys behind your best friend's back, kissing Spencer." He takes another stop back as Spencer puts a hand out. "Never would have guessed that one. Guess it's good then, right?"
Jon tries again. "Brendon-"
"Guess it's good that Cassie's dead then? Before she found that one out?"
Brendon's hurt, Jon knows, and he's definitely got a part to blame in it, but it's still kick to the chest to hear the words coming from Brendon's lips. He can feel Spencer frowning at him, confused and curious at this turn of events.
"Jon?"
He doesn't look at Spencer. It's just him and Brendon, standing there, staring at each other. Brendon's eyelashes flutter and he bites his lip. All the anger that was brewing just a minute ago is gone. He can see the remorse in Brendon's face.
"Jon-I,"
"Fuck you, B," Jon manages to breathe out, watching Brendon flinch. It's a small satisfaction.
He turns around and walks out of the restaurant, not looking back.
Spencer slides onto a stool across the bar from Jon. They don't talk, Jon popping the cap off a beer and setting it down on the bar as continues working.
"I'm sorry," Spencer finally blurts out as Jon makes his way back and forth behind the bar. "It was a total dick move last night. I know it and I'm sorry."
With a sigh, Jon stops. Elbows on the bar, he leans forward. "I know, Spence."
It gets him a wary smile and Jon can't stop his own in response. Pushing off, he grabs a wash rag and starts wiping down the bar. It's just past the lunch hour and the bar is quiet except for a couple regulars in the corner. He works in silence, Spencer drinking his beer.
"Who's Cassie?" Spencer asks. His voice is tentative. Jon glances sideways, studying him. Spencer looks tired, a little hung over. He also looks the slightest bit scared, like maybe he really, really fucked up. "Brendon won't talk to you, huh?" Jon says instead.
Spencer deflates, running a hand over his face. "No. No, he won't."
He can't help a small laugh. Spencer looks absolutely miserable. "He'll get over it."
"So who is Cassie?" Spencer asks again, voice still quiet on her name.
"Was," Jon corrects just as quietly. He looks up to find Spencer staring at him, concern written all over his face. Opening his mouth to wave it off, Jon finds himself spending the rest of the afternoon telling him about Cassie.
Spencer listens, and the weight on Jon's chest lifts a little further.
~
Jon stays at the inn for a couple of days, not knowing if he's even welcome at the apartment. Part of him isn't even sure if he wants to go back to the apartment. Which, okay, that's a lie. By the third day, Jon finds himself sitting on the couch in the back room, missing his bed. And his cat. He especially misses Dylan.
And he misses his guitar.
And Brendon.
Jon sighs. He does miss Brendon.
Greta's been giving him these looks over the table at dinner and he knows she's dying to ask. Fortunately, she's been able to hold her tongue, but Jon knows that's not going to last much longer, and to avoid as much awkward conversation as possible with her, he's going to have to go home eventually. Go home to awkward conversation with Brendon instead.
He should have just left well enough alone, dammit. Slumping back into the cushion, Jon flops his head back.
Brendon's there, barely out of the hallway, watching him.
Straightening up, Jon twists around. Neither of them says anything, just studying each other. There are dark circles under Brendon's eyes, like he hasn't been sleeping, and his hair is a mess. Jon's sure he doesn't look much better.
"Hey, B," Jon finally says, his voice low. Brendon's shoulders lower at the words and he scrambles around the couch. Before he knows it, Jon has an armful of Brendon, who keeps repeating sorry over and over against his neck.
Hugging back tightly, Jon whispers his own apologies.
~
Brendon's reluctant at first, despite the fact that he's obviously in love with Spencer. But over the next few weeks, Spencer manages to wear him down. They go on their first "date" two weeks to the day of Spencer's birthday party.
He's sprawled across the couch, Dylan asleep across his left arm, when Brendon gets home. He wanders into the living room, looking a little dazed, fingertips to his bottom lip. Flipping the light on, he startles at the sight of Jon.
"Oh! I didn't think you'd still be up." His eyes narrow as he looks around. Jon had pretty much been sitting in the dark, no TV, just him and the cat. "Were you waiting up?"
"No." Jon says, sitting up. The cat protests the movement, although she barely opens her eyes to give him a dirty look before she rolls over and burrows into the seam of the cushions. She really is the strangest cat.
Brendon laughs, whether at the cat or his blatant lie, Jon's not sure. At least, not until Brendon crows, "You totally were!"
"Whatever," Jon mumbles. His left arm is a little numb where Dylan's laying across it. "Bid D and I were taking a nap."
Brendon leans against the couch arm, raising an eyebrow. "At 1:30 in the morning?"
"Fine, " Jon capitulates."I am the lame big-brother figure who waits up, okay?" A look passes over Brendon's face, quickly enough that Jon's not sure what it was. "How was it then?"
Brendon practically glows at the question, flopping down on the couch. A tiny bit of wistfulness coils through Jon. He remembers that feeling. Pushing it away, Jon puts an arm around Brendon's shoulders, pulling the both of them back into the cushions.
"Tell me."
The initial phase is bad. Watching the goofy eyes, and Brendon being so happy that it hurts, keeps pulling that wistful-Jon refuses to call it jealous-feeling from him. He keeps not thinking about it.
Then things get physical.
"Seriously, you guy.” Jon slaps the magnet harder than he probably needs to since it nearly bounces off the refrigerator. Pressing it down again, he continues, “I sit on that couch. I watch movies and drink beer on the couch.” There’s a muffled laugh behind him. He turns, eyes narrowing. Both Brendon and Spencer are trying really hard not to smile.
It is funny, he admits, but still.
“My cat sleeps on that couch, you guys.”
“Our cat, you mean.” Brendon rolls his eyes. “And it’s not like we were actually having the sex on the couch.”
“There were shirts off!” Jon flashes to the image of the two of them from earlier, when he’d walked through the door to find the two of them making out on the couch. “And hands! In places!”
It’s not like Jon’s a prude, but courtesy is courtesy. He points to the list now on the fridge, muttering “Read and follow,” before heading out of the room.
“When you’re done,” he adds, “I will be watching shit blowing up in the living room. On the couch. On the couch where there will be no nakedness.” Over his shoulder, Jon yells, “That’s rule three!”
Muffled laughter follows him to the other room.
>>*<<
The sun is painting the tops of the trees orange. They're both sweaty helping clean out the storage shed, but Brendon doesn't hesitate to curve into Jon's side when they finally sit down on the inn's porch swing. Jon lets himself sink into the comfortableness of the moment, the warmth of content that settles in his belly.
It's nice. Familiar.
The thought makes him still.
"Jon?"
Glancing over, he can see the curiosity on Brendon's face. Instead of replying to the question on his face, Jon just says, "You should go get us a beer, dude." Brendon's eyes narrow, but all he does is snort and respond with, "Your legs broken?" before flopping his head against the swing.
Jon moves his gaze back out over the front yard. "Yeah, yeah."
They sit there for a while, quiet, and Jon can't get the feeling to go away.
It rolls around and around in his head over the next day or so. He's quiet, enough that he catches Brendon watches him a couple of times. That doesn't really help either, knowing that Brendon's concerned. It's not until Spencer's back on a bar stool across from him again, that Jon realizes that the moment on the porch was affecting him more than he'd thought.
"You okay?" Spencer asks. He looks straight at Jon, intent.
Jon nods. "Of course."
He turns, pretending to be busy, but turns back around when Spencer says quietly, "You can talk to us, you know."
Spencer's staring down at his beer and Jon watches his ring finger and thumb as the twirl the bottle, sliding around the sweat beading on the glass. Glancing up, Spencer adds, "You do know that, right?" Jon doesn't say anything. With a shrug, Spencer says, "I know you and I haven't known each other that long, but I think we're pretty good friends. I mean, I consider you one of my best friends."
It strikes Jon then, how young Spencer looks, how unsure. Then clear blue eyes meet his and Jon realizes that whatever he was feeling the other day, there in the still heat of the evening on the porch, isn't just for Brendon. His stomach drops.
Well shit.
~
Jonathan?
His mother's voice is tinny over the phone and for a split second, he considers hanging up. Instead, he says, "Hey, Mom."
It's been a while, honey.
"Yeah," Jon answers, nodding like she could see him. "Sorry 'bout that." He can't think of anything to say and a moment later his mom says his name again, quieter.
Everything okay?"
"I think-" He pauses, biting his lip. "It's been a long time since I've been home."
Yes. Her voice is subdued, neutral as she adds, Are you thinking of coming back to Chicago?
He notices how she doesn't say home. "Maybe," he mumbles. From the corner of his eye, he can see Betty. "Chicago sounds pretty good right now."
A noise in the hallway makes him turn. Brendon's standing in the door to his room, his eyes wide. They stare at each other for a long minute. Then Brendon turns sharply, walking away.
With a sigh, Jon sits down heavily on his bed.
Honey?
He starts talking.
His mother's last words keep echoing around and around his head.
She wouldn't want you to not get better, Jonathan.
He stumbles around a customer coming out of Carden's and mumbles an apology.
She wouldn't want you to never fall in love again.
That last beer after his shift probably wasn't the best idea, but Brendon's been avoiding him like the plague for the last two days, and he felt he'd deserved it. Spencer's suspicious absence was kind of grinding on his nerves, too.
Disgruntled by his own thoughts, Jon nearly misses Brendon's voice. He stumbles to a stop at the mouth of the alley.
Even from here, Jon can tell Brendon's upset. The line of his body is stiff, movements short and jerky. Spencer reaches out and curls a hand around his neck, and Brendon leans into the touch, eyes closing. Wrapping his other arm around Brendon, Spencer pulls him in until Brendon's cheek is resting against his chest.
There's a surge of something that Jon can't label anything but jealousy. It's followed lightning-quick by guilt. Brendon opens his eyes and looks right at Jon. A moment later, he turns his face into Spencer's neck, away from Jon.
As Jon watches, Spencer tips his chin down to say something. Brendon nods in response, fisting his hands into Spencer's t-shirt.
Jon finally makes his feet move, getting past the alley. He needs another beer.
Brendon doesn't come home that night. It's not the first time, but after earlier, it's a pointed absence.
~
"So-"
Greta slaps at his feet until Jon moves them down, giving her room to sit down. The movement makes swing shift, but Greta slides onto the bench with easy practice.
"I hear you might be leaving us soon."
Jon drops his head to his chest. He should know better to think gossip wouldn't get around. Instead of answering, he shrugs. Greta's stare is like a physical thing and Jon knows he's a bit of a coward for not looking up to meet it. Greta's sigh sounds almost disappointed. It makes him feel worse. "Oh Jon-"
Her voice breaks off as the door opens. Jon finally looks up, to find Brendon standing there. Greta looks back and forth between them, eyes lighting up. "Oh."
Jon glances at her. A smile is spreading across her face and Jon opens his mouth. To say what, he's not sure-it's not what you think, maybe? Only that's really a big fat lie. It's almost comical how quickly she's off the swing, slipping past Brendon, back into the inn. Jon knows she'll probably be watching from behind the curtains anyway.
With a sigh, he pats the spot next to him.
Tentatively, Brendon takes a seat. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, and when he does speak, it's not what Jon was expecting. "You realize you've been here for over a year?" He doesn't look at Jon, staring out across the yard. "You were a totally different person then. With reason, I know," he rushes on.
"You really kind of scared me at first. You looked-You were so sad, it hurt to look at you sometimes." Jon's throat is tight. It's not, he realizes suddenly, not because thinking about Cassie makes him sad, but that fact that Brendon sounds like it hurts him, to see Jon like that. He can't say anything and Brendon doesn't speak again. They sit there in silence.
"Don't go," Brendon finally blurts out, twisting around to face Jon. He grabs at Jon's hand, twisting their fingers together. His palms are sweat, the look on his face earnest. It's open and raw, and Jon swallows hard. Hesitant, Brendon leans in. He's searching Jon's face, like he's waiting for rejection, waiting for Jon to pull back.
Jon doesn't move.
Leaning forward, Brendon brushes his mouth across Jon's. It's impossibly brief. "Please," Brendon whispers, staring intently at Jon. "Please don’t leave."
His heart is going to burst out of his chest, it's beating so hard. It takes a couple tries, and Jon has to force himself to focus, but he finally asks, "What about Spencer?"
"What about Spencer?"
Jon jerks his head around to find Spencer standing at the bottom of the porch. He hadn't even heard him walk up.
"What about me?" Spencer repeats, making his way up the steps. He stops next the swing, and Jon has to tilt his head back in order to look him in the face. After a moment's hesitation-Jon can feel Brendon holding his breath next to him-Spencer bends down. He hesitates close enough that Jon can feel his breath, and Jon moves then, tilting his chin up. Spencer quits hesitating.
The kiss is different this time. More sure, harder, and Spencer curls his arm around Jon's neck, thumb resting just under his jaw. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jon thinks smooth. It doesn't matter though, he likes it.
Jon's vaguely aware of Bob's truck is pulling up, but it's not until the door slams that Spencer pulls away. A blush is starting to color his cheeks, and when starts to step back, Jon reaches out, wrapping a hand around his wrist. His own face is noticeably warm.
Bob stomps up the steps, suitcase in his hand. Brendon huffs out a laugh at the muttered, "Maybe the freezer will finally get fixed, cripes," before Bob slams inside.
They're all holding still, embarrassed and unsure. But Spencer slides his hand until his fingers tangle with Jon's, glancing over at Brendon with a small smile.
"Man-"
They all startle at the voice. Spencer jerks, whipping his head around.
Looking around him, Jon sees a twig of a guy. He's all limbs, dressed in a hounds tooth suit. A felt hat sits on top of his head, brown hair curling out from underneath it. There's what Jon's fairly sure is a lace scarf around his throat.
"I knew you had it bad for Brendon, but I think the new guy definitely gets the beard bonus."
A disbelieving smile spread across Spencer's face.
"Ryan?!"
Twig-guy breaks out in grin and Spencer laughs. Moving back to the stairs, he tugs on Jon’s hand to follow. Brendon finds his other hand as they stumble off the swing, his grip almost on the uncomfortable side. This should be interesting, Jon thinks.
He finds himself looking forward to it.
next:
art post
mix post
~
Brendon may have warned him all those months ago about intolerance, but as Jon looks around, none of that is evident. Half the town is crowded inside the walls of the bar. Going up on his toes, Jon looks around for the birthday boy.
Greta and Carden are having a heated discussion in one corner, Bob's arm curved around her shoulders. Jon drags his gaze across the room, eyebrows rising. Who knew that the 60-year old librarian could move like that? He pops his arm up, snapping a quick crowd shot, before moving on. Half-turning, he bumps into someone. An apology is on his lips when he continues around to find the object of his search standing next to him.
The Beckett's oldest son is draped across Brendon, long limbs wrapped around his shoulder. It looks a little ridiculous; Bill has a good six-plus inches on Brendon. Jon frowns. "Brendon-"
"Jon!" Brendon interrupts. "Jonjonjon, is it time for presents yet?"
The enthusiastic question is helped along by a flailing arm, beer in hand. It's mostly empty, so only a few drops land on Jon's shoes. As much as he hates them, Jon’s glad the dress code for work requires them.
"You've already opened your presents," Bill slurs helpfully. Brendon gives him a disdainful look, before saying, "I haven't opened Jon's present yet." Another arm fling and Jon reaches out.
Brendon’s drunk, but not horribly so. Jon pops the beer out of Brendon's hand, making his way around the back of the bar. Brendon pouts at the glass of water that lands on the counter in front of him, but accepts it readily when Jon tells him, "Give it a bit, Bden, then I'll let you have your present. Okay?"
Brendon nods, taking a big gulp of water even as Bill tugs him away. Brendon looks back over his shoulder before they disappear into the crowd, a wide smile spreading across his face. His face is flushed from the alcohol and the heat inside the bar, there's a brightness in his eyes that belies more than the alcohol and Jon can't help grinning back.
A handful of people are still hanging around as Jon slides the last batch of wine glasses back onto the rack. Brendon's slumped over the bar, head on his forearms. Something garbled comes from his general direction and Jon pokes the top of his head. "What?"
Although his eyes are a little red-rimmed when he looks up, there's no slur to Brendon’s words when he says, "Thank you."
Jon tilts his head to the side. "For what?" He hasn't even given Brendon his birthday present yet.
"For not letting me get thoroughly trashed." He points a knowing finger at Jon. "Although, I believe a horrific hangover is a rite of passage for any newly turned 21-year-old."
Jon shrugs, grinning. "I've seen you hung over, dude. I was just sparing myself all the moaning and groaning."
"Lies, Jon Walker. Horrible, horrible lies. You love me and didn't want me to suffer unduly." Jon wipes down the bar one last time. That's not entirely untrue. Tossing the dishtowel in the wash basket, he looks back up.
"You ready for your present?" Brendon nearly falls off the stool in his haste, causing Jon to laugh.
"Really?" He makes grabby hands at Jon. "Finally?">
There's so much enthusiasm on Brendon's face that for a second, Jon's a little unsure if his present is as good as he thinks it is. Shaking it off, he motions for Brendon to stay there and heads back into Bob's office. He didn't bother to wrap it, just having found the right frame this morning.
When he gets back out to the bar, Brendon's shifting back and forth, one foot to the other. He's obviously making an effort, hands behind his back. Jon looks down at the photo in his hands and mumbles, "It's kind of lame, especially since I keep giving them out-" Greta's got hers right behind the reception desk. It makes Jon blush every time he walks in. "But I think you'll really like this one."
He hands it over.
It's Brendon and Bo, back in the fall before the weather had turned and Bo took off for parts unknown again. The two of them are sprawled across the forest floor-Brendon on his back, the wolf laying opposite him, head resting on Brendon's out-flung arm-looking at each other, the sun dancing over the two of them.
It takes Brendon two tries before he speaks. His voice breaks on Jon's name and Jon rolls on up on his toes for a second before he asks, "You like it then?"
Brendon sets it carefully on the bar, lip between his teeth, before he flings his arms around Jon. The hug is almost uncomfortable, but Jon hugs back. There's a whispered Thanks for staying in his ear and he nods. He's about to let go when the door to the bar opens.
"Sorry-" Jon clears his throat. The guy's a little scruffy, not that Jon's one to talk right now. "Sorry," he says again. "We're closing up." Brendon doesn't move, his arms still tight around Jon.
"Yeah, I apologize. It's just that, um, someone outside-" He motions over his shoulder, "-said that I might be able to find Brendon here? Brendon Urie?"
Jon frowns even as Brendon goes absolutely still against him. The stranger's eyes, bright blue even across the room, sharpen on the two of them.
"Brendon?" he asks.
Oh.
Jon doesn't say anything in the quiet that follows. Brendon is so still that Jon's not even sure he's breathing. He tightens the arm still wrapped around Brendon. "Bden?"
Spencer frowns at the nickname, taking a couple of steps forward. Brendon finally turns around, staring at the floor and avoiding Spencer's gaze. As a show of support, Jon keeps an arm around his waist. The air is full of tension, neither Brendon nor Spencer seemingly willing to speak first. It gives Jon time to study Spencer.
He knows that Spencer's a few months younger than Brendon, which means he shouldn't even be in the bar. But there's a quiet confidence in him that belies his age. He's taller than both Jon and Brendon, but not as tall as Bill. Jon can picture it, Brendon and Spencer, on a college campus somewhere. They'd look good together.
Shaking the thought away, Jon opens his mouth to break the silence when Spencer does it for him.
"Happy Birthday.”
Although the words are quiet, they spur Brendon into motion. Jon's arm falls away as Brendon steps toward Spencer. "What the fuck are you doing here, Spence?"
"Well." A muscle twitches in his jaw. "It took me nearly two years to find my best friend's sorry ass-" From the corner of his eye, Jon catches Brendon's fingers curl into a fist. "-or I would have been here sooner."
Brendon looks away, not responding, and Spencer visibly deflates.
There's exhaustion is in every line of his body, tiredness in the way his shoulders slump. Running a hand through his hair, Spencer sighs.
"Bden-" His gaze glances over at Jon before moving back to Brendon. "Brendon, I don't want to fight. I just-" He sighs again. "You disappeared. I came back from Econ and you were-you were just gone." He moves forward and Brendon jerks, pulling away from Jon's arm and moving behind him.
"I can't do this," Brendon mutters. Jon reaches out, but his hand gets ignored.
"Brendon-" Spencer protests, moving forward. But Brendon's already slipped through to the back by the time Spencer reaches Jon. He moves to follow, but Jon stops him, a hand on his arm. Spencer glares at him, but Jon holds on.
"You should give him some time," Jon tells him. "Brendon will cool down. He's just a little overwhelmed right now." He offers Spencer a small smile. "You know that, right?"
Some of the tension seeps out him, but Spencer's voice is still a little belligerent when he says, "I know that, yeah." Spencer swings around to face him fully. From this close, he's a little intimidating. Jon doesn't move. "How do you? Are you his boyfriend?"
Choking on a startled laugh, Jon says, "What? No!" He can feel his cheeks getting warm and he hurries on with, "No, of course not. Just a friend."
"Oh." The tension in Spencer's body eases. "Okay."
Something makes Jon add, "Best friend." Spencer's mouth tightens, but doesn't say anything else.
The two of them stand there in silence until Jon gives himself a little mental slap. He asks, "So you just got in, right?" Spencer nods. "Got a hotel room yet?" A head shake this time. Jon nods himself. "Well, if you'll wait out front, I can lock up and show you the closest motel. Sound good?"
A flash of relief crosses Spencer's face before it settles back to cool neutral. "I'd appreciate it. Please," he adds as an afterthought, tone polite.
It makes Jon grin for some reason.
~
Greta's starting to fret by the time noon rolls around the next day. After the fourth time Jon's phone beeps with a text message, he rolls out of bed and heads toward Brendon's room. His door had been closed last night when Jon finally got home, locked tight. An obvious sign that Brendon was not ready to talk.
The door is wide open when Jon shuffles down the hallway. Frowning, he pokes his head inside.
"Brendon?"
The sheets are rumpled, but since Brendon hardly ever makes the bed anyway, Jon can't really tell if Brendon slept in his own bed. He moves further down the hallway, raising his voice, "Brendon?"
The only response is Dylan, meowing plaintively as she wanders out of the kitchen. Jon reaches down and the cat lifts up to bump his fingers.
"Where did he go, Bid D?" he asks. She meows again and sits back, looking up at him. His phone beeps again.
JON WALKER.
He groans, Greta's worry is evident in every capital letter. WHERE DID YOU HIDE THE BODY OF MY REPAIRMAN? A few seconds later: AND WHO IS THE BLUE-EYED HOTTIE EATING LUNCH AT CARDEN'S?
"Jesus," Jon mutters. News travels ridiculously fast. Shaking his head, Jon makes his way back to his room to get dressed.
It takes Jon a little while, but he finally figures out where Brendon's hiding.
"You realize you're going to have to come down and talk to him eventually, right?"
Jon climbs over a couple of haystacks, settling in beside Brendon. "Spencer doesn't strike me as a particularly patient kind of guy."
Brendon huffs out a laugh. "He's not." Slumping sideways, he rests his head on Jon's shoulder. After a second, he mumbles, "Took you long enough, JWalk."
That earns Brendon a poke in the leg. "Hey, I had a long night." That gets a snort. He adds, "Also, I had to go through the Greta Inquisition. She wanted to know about Spencer." Brendon stiffens a little next to him. "But since I don't know much and it's not my story, I couldn't tell her much."
"Thanks," Brendon says quietly. They sit there, not saying anything.
Finally, Brendon breaks the silence with, "I just didn't really expect to see him again." There's a huge sigh. "You know?"
Jon nods. "Yeah, I get it." He bumps his head against Brendon's, adding, "But I'm fairly sure he's not going anywhere any time soon. So." Brendon sighs again.
A few minutes later, Jon nudges him with a shoulder. Standing up, he offers a hand. "Now come on, it's meatloaf tonight and I'm not missing that. Even for your lovelorn ass." Brendon glares, but lets Jon pull him to his feet without protest.
Greta's meatloaf is really good.
~
As it turns out, Jon's right, Spencer stays ... and Brendon continues to ignore him like the plague. So Jon spends a lot of the next ten days rolling his eyes in Brendon's general vicinity while giving out hugs. Every time he tries to talk to him about it, Brendon changes the subject. Or puts on his headphones. Or turns the television up louder.
Spencer apparently gets fed up with it, too. Jon comes home to find him sitting in the hallway outside the apartment.
"Right," Jon mutters to himself as Spencer gets up. Once the door's open, he steps inside. Turning around, he looks at Spencer, standing tall and determined. "Right," he repeats.
"Come on in."
Spencer's surprisingly easy to talk to. They discuss the weather, Stamps, and Carden's veggie lasagna. They discuss everything but Brendon.
It's not until his phone beeps with the message you coming to dinner? from Greta, that Jon realizes they've been talking for over an hour.
"Hey," Jon says abruptly, interrupting Spencer's ode to The Beanery's iced chai latte freeze-thing. "You hungry?"
Dinner is an awkward affair.
Spencer keeps trying to engage Brendon in conversation, but gets a continuous cold shoulder. At one point, Brendon starts to get up and leave. Only he chooses exactly the wrong moment because Greta's passing behind him. She's obviously fascinated by the whole thing, so Brendon gets a hand on his shoulder.
Bob just looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
After dinner, Jon tries to catch Brendon, to talk to him, but Brendon just looks at him with those big, sad brown eyes. It's Spencer that puts a hand out this time, stopping him. Jon sighs and they both go help Greta clean up. It's a full on interrogation from that point on, but Bob manages to drag Greta away before any really embarrassing questions.
Still, Spencer's face is bright red and he looks a little uncomfortable. Jon has to work really hard not to laugh.
It's a couple days later when Spencer 'bumps' into Jon as he's getting off work, and Jon thinks that there's really no reason for him to be ignoring Spencer too. Besides, it's his duty as a friend to check him out, so they wander around for an hour, finally up at The Beanery.
Spencer is wickedly sarcastic and still easy to talk to, Jon finds. It's a little after eleven by the time he gets back to the apartment. The door to Brendon's room is shut again, the sound of Jimmy Eat World floating down the hallway. There's no answer when Jon knocks. Shaking his head, Jon heads down to his own room.
Brendon will come around eventually. Spencer means too much to him, Jon knows, to keep himself closed off for too long.
At least that's what he's hoping.
~
"Hey."
Jon looks up to find Brendon standing behind the couch, a tentative smile on his face. Even though he can't see, Jon knows from the set of his shoulders, that Brendon's hands are shoved deep in to his pockets. He looks about twelve years old and Jon smiles back.
Spencer chooses that moment to lean his head back and say, "Brendonnnnnn." He grins and Brendon's smile strains just a little. And then he notices the beer bottle Spencer's currently waving around.
His eyes narrow and he turns to Jon. "Jonathan Jacob Walker. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor? Shame on you!" Jon can tell he's trying to lighten his mood, so he holds out his own beer and says, "Shhh, don't tell."
That gets him a grateful look as Brendon takes the proffered beverage. "He's a total lightweight, you know?" Indicating Spencer with his bottle, "Never partied when we were in college."
"Ryan didn't like it," Spencer mutters, waving his hand over the back of the couch a second later.
"Ryan?" Jon asks.
"His bff," Brendon responds, just as Spencer says, "George Ryan Ross!" He starts giggling and Jon looks at Brendon. Shrugging, Brendon takes a sip of his beer, leaning forward against the back of the couch.
"George Ryan Ross!!" Spencer repeats. Adding, "Brendon Boyd Urie!" He points to Jon. "Jonathan Jacob Wal-"
"-ker," Jon finishes, laughing at Spencer's delighted face. "Spencer Smith. Fits right in then, yeah?"
Spencer nods, a big grin still on his face. Jon makes a mental note to maybe not let him have so many next time. The thought is broken by Brendon's soft-spoken, "Spencer James Smith."
Spencer leans back again, a wide, toothy smile and mumbles, "S'right." He lifts his beer up and Brendon smiles back, clinking his own against it.
~
Spencer's phone beeps, interrupting him. Absently, he picks it up, doing a double-take at whatever's on the screen. "Shit." He flips it open and begins muttering, "Shitshitshit."
"What is it, Spence?" Jon asks. Brendon makes an inquisitive noise next to him. A second later, Spencer sighs loudly and flops back in his chair. Brendon pokes his leg. "Whatwhatwhat was the shitshitshit for?"
"The bank apparently called the house, to alert me on my balance." Spencer gives another heavy sigh. "And now Dad wants me to come home."
From the corner of his eye, Jon watches Brendon's face fall for a moment before he makes it carefully blank again. "That sucks," Brendon says and Jon agrees.
"Fuck," Spencer mutters, slumping back into his chair. "This seriously blows." Jon watches Brendon as he does his best not to stare at Spencer. Nobody says anything for a while.
They're on the way back to the apartment, an air of solemnity around them when Jon offers up, "You could try and get a job?"
He feels Brendon twitch beside him, but he doesn't say anything. Spencer grunts.
"It's off-season in a town that's hardly big enough to be a dot on the map-" Brendon makes a noise and Spencer waves hand. "You know what I mean, Bren." There's another sigh and Jon nearly laughs as they mirror each other, shoving hands deep in their pockets. "I'm pretty sure it's a lost cause."
They round the corner. Carden is outside his place, piling dirty plates into a tray. Jon nods at him, asking Spencer, "It's worth a shot though. Right?"
"Yeah, yeah," Spencer snorts. Waving a hand toward Carden, he says sarcastically, "Hey Mike, can I have a job?"
He gets a, "Be here at six in the morning," and Jon has to reach out to steady Spencer when he stumbles. Carden hip-checks his way back into the restaurant without another word as they all stand there in surprise. Finally, Brendon starts laughing.
It's quiet at first, but pretty soon Jon's joining him, then Spencer. There's still a little shell-shock on Spencer's face, but the tension has left his shoulders. Without looking, Jon knows Brendon looks the same.
As they continue walking, Spencer says, "What the hell is this town?" Jon laughs again.
Lorelei Springs is something else indeed.
~
So Spencer stays again and Jon watches Brendon slowly get used to this fact. Mostly.
Once, about a month or so after Spencer starts at Carden's place, Jon walks through the apartment door in time to hear Spencer half-shout, "I'm not fucking leaving, dammit!"
Both their heads swivel in Jon's direction and he can see the tension in Brendon's jaw, the way his teeth are clenched. Jon says nothing, just raises his eyebrows. A moment later, Brendon turns, crossing his arms and heading toward his room. He throws a terse, "Whatever," over his shoulder. The door slams behind him.
"Oh my god," Spencer mutters."He's twelve, I swear."
Jon's got a pretty good idea, but he asks anyway. "What's going on?"
"I was stupid," Spencer replies. "I said something about sending a formal letter of withdrawal to school and he kind of lost his shit."
He deliberately doesn't think of the remaining semester on his own degree. Instead, "It is a pretty big deal, Spence."
Jon throws up a hand at the glare he gets.
"Hey. I am the last person to cast a stone in this scenario, okay?" Spencer tilts his head at that, frowning. Jon hurries on, "You've obviously made your decision, right?"
Spencer nods.
"He'll get over it. Besides," Jon can't help adding. "He really likes having you here."
Spencer beams at him and Jon can't help but smile back. Spencer's smiles are more than a little contagious.
Later that night, Jon wakes to find Brendon sliding into bed next to him. He doesn't say anything, just lifts his arm and wraps a hand over Brendon's shoulder.
"This is a little gay, you know," Jon finally whispers, getting a snort and a quiet, "Shut up, Walker."
Sleep comes fairly quickly them both after that.
>>*<<
Jon watches.
It's something that he's always done and after everything that's happened, especially getting back into photography, he sees a lot.
He sees the ease with which Brendon and Spencer fall back into their friendship. Over a while, he watches Brendon lose that slightly tense edge that always seemed to be hiding under his skin. Spencer smiles all the time, effortlessly charming most everyone in his path. He's easy with touches, too. Something that Jon thinks is both a boon and a bane.
The sadness that used to make Jon's heart feel like lead doesn't press quite as hard now. Sometimes he almost feels guilty about that, like maybe he's forgetting Cassie. It's that, and the way Brendon leans into those easy hugs that makes him seek out Spencer one afternoon.
"So here's the deal, Spence."
Spencer's eyes snap open and he lifts his head off the wall as Jon steps up in front of him. His apron, emblazoned with Carden's ridiculous bird logo, is still pristine white even under the heat of the late summer sun. The thin skin under his eyes is a little dark, like he hasn't been sleeping. Jon feels bad for about two seconds before he remembers that he's here for Brendon.
"Here's the deal," he repeats, standing as tall as he can. "Brendon's more than a little in love with you. Which-" he holds a finger up as Spencer opens his mouth, straightening up, "you obviously know."
Spencer slumps back against the wall with a sigh. "Yeah, I do know." Jon watches the expressions trip over Spencer's face and after a second, leans a shoulder against the wall next to him.
"Here's the thing," he repeats, staring down at the towel Spencer's twisting in his hands. "You coming here completely threw him for a loop, right?" Spencer nods, keeping his own gaze down as well. "And he's still kind of messed up with the whole deal with this family-"
The hands tighten around the rag, knuckles going white before Jon hears a deep inhale and exhale next to him.
"-and I think it's pretty amazing that you came looking for him. It shows you obviously care about him."
Jon moves his gaze to Spencer's profile. Even with the beard, he notes vaguely, Spencer's still kind of pretty. It's easy to see why Brendon fell, really. Especially after getting to know him.
"You're a good guy, Spence." Jon says quietly. "And I can't say that I'm not happy myself for the chance to call you friend-" The corner of Spencer's mouth quirks up momentarily, but falls away at Jon's, "But I'm fairly sure that you're only making it harder on Brendon by staying here."
"What!?" Pushing off the wall, Spencer turns to Jon. Surprise is written all over his face. "You think I should leave?"
"I just-" Jon shrugs a shoulder. "What are you doing, Spence?"
Spencer shakes his head, confusion on his face. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jon asks, "Have you thought about it?"
"Thought about what?" Spencer's voice is getting lower, frustration and confusion making it rough.
"Brendon," Jon answers. He's getting a little frustrated himself. Spencer's not stupid, he knows this. "Being with Brendon. Because that's what he wants, you know."
"That's what he wants and I'm pretty sure you're straight and you know what that means?" Jon pushes on without letting Spencer answer. "That means you're selfish, staying here, pushing, when you know how Brendon feels about you. You realize that, right? How selfish that is?"
He moves off the wall, stepping into Spencer's space and staring up at him. "He's in love with you, Spence. He wants to be with you, hold your hand when you walk down the sidewalk." Jon pokes Spencer in the chest. "He wants to kiss you."
Spencer's eyes widen. Jon keeps pushing. "Have you thought about that? About kissing Brendon?" Spencer's mouth opens, but he doesn't say anything, looking away.
"It's selfish, you know? It's like-" Jon waves a hand. He's actually starting to get a little angry. "Like, putting a treat in front of an animal and leading it on. But never actually rewarding it. And you've never even kissed a boy before, have you-"
Jon stumbles a little, shoulder bumping the brick wall, as Spencer's mouth moves over his.
They don't talk about it.
Jon barely even lets himself think about it. It's just been a while, and the only person he'd kissed in years was Cassie. He's still lonely, that's all, and kisses are just kisses. So, yeah, he doesn't think about it.
Not the way Spencer crowded him. Having to tilt his chin up. The strange sensation of a beard against his own. Or how Spencer's lips were slightly chapped, a little rough.
They don't talk about it.
~
Spencer steps up his game after that, taking whatever Jon initiated in the alley like a challenge.
And to be honest, Jon doesn't catch it at first. He's too focused on trying to act normal. Which, there's no reason to act natural. He's totally acting normal. Anyway.
It's not like Brendon doesn't love to touch, to be in people's space. Both Jon and Spencer oblige him easily, letting him slide under an arm (Spencer) or hang off his back (Jon). Brendon's very touch-oriented, comfortable in both their presences now. So no, Jon doesn't catch it at first.
It's not until he's bringing in a set of beers to movie night and sees Brendon tucked tight against Spencer side, talking a mile a minute about the sparrow that he'd had to catch up at the inn. They both look up, Brendon grabbing for his beer, that Jon looks past him to see the look on Spencer's face.
It's challenging, like he's expecting Jon to say something. The only reason Jon keeps his mouth shut, handing over Spencer's beer, is the slight uncertainty in his eyes.
It doesn't stop there.
Every time Jon turns around, it's something. Spencer standing too close, Spencer leaning in to talk to Brendon. He's holding doors and even pulls out Brendon's chair once. Brendon had burst out laughing, giving a curtsey in return. Spencer had put it off as a joke, but Jon catches the little frown on his face when he sits down.
It doesn’t take long before the attention starts to wear on Brendon.
Jon watches as the skin tightens around the corner of Brendon’s eyes every time Spencer touches him, the way his body tenses just a little when an arm gets thrown around his shoulders. There’s been no outright declaration of intentions on Spencer’s part and Jon watches as the attention just confuses Brendon more.
It’s obviously stressing Brendon out and Jon waits for Brendon to come talk to him. A coward’s way out, yes, but Jon’s not sure how to bring the whole thing up without something slipping about what happened in the alley.
He’s being a shit friend, something that’s stressing him out. Brendon’s picked up on that, too, which only makes Jon feel even worse.
There’s a train wreck coming and Jon doesn’t have a clue how to stop it.
~
The birthday party for Spencer is in full swing, smaller than Brendon's, but a number of people had shown up. Enough that it takes Jon a second to get a glimpse of them when he hears Brendon's startled, "Spencer, wha-?" from across the room.
Spencer's been in Brendon's space ever more than usual tonight. Neither one had really noticed since they'd both been drinking. Sure enough, when Jon catches a view of them, there's a beer in Spencer's left hand. His other hand is resting on Brendon's hip, fingers curled into one of the belt loops there. As Jon watches, Spencer dips his chin down to say something. Before he can though, Brendon puts a hand on his chest and pushes back. His eyes look a little wild.
Jon starts moving.
Relief floods Brendon's face when he catches sight of Jon. He tries stepping away, but Spencer's not letting him get very far.
"Jon!"
"Hey guys," Jon says. Offering a small smile, he asks, "Having a good birthday, Spence?"
Spencer smiles, bright and wide. From the corner of his eye, Jon can see the tension in Brendon slip just a little. It's back in full force when Spencer continues, "It'd be even better if Brendon would come home with me."
Jon's shocked at the bluntness. So is Brendon. Twisting away, he grits out a terse, "What the hell, Spencer?"
With a cocked hip, Spencer tells him, "I think I made it pretty clear."
"No." Brendon shakes his head, obviously startled by the whole thing. "No, it's really not. You're straight, Spencer." He says it like he needs it to be true. "Remember Haley? You're straight."
There's a flash of anger in Spencer's eyes and Jon reaches a hand out, but Spencer just glares at him before turning back to Brendon. "Maybe I'm not as straight at you think I am."
Brendon's responding laugh is startled, a tinge of hysteria on its edges. "Yes, Spencer, you are."
Jon sees the train wreck about to hit in the tiny glance Spencer sends his way. "Don't-" he warns in a low hiss. Spencer ignores him.
"I kissed Jon-" he flings a hand toward Jon as if there was any clarification needed. "And I liked it. So maybe I'm not as straight at you-"
"What?" Brendon interrupts, shock evident in his voice. Jon closes his eyes, breathing in. When he opens them again, Brendon's staring at him. "Jon?" He hates the way Brendon's voice sounds. Spencer stills next to them.
"Brendon-" Jon reaches out, but in a flurry of motion, Brendon pulls away, stepping back. The air around them is quieter now; Jon can feel eyes on the three of them standing there.
"Wow," Brendon spits out. "Not only kissing boys behind your best friend's back, kissing Spencer." He takes another stop back as Spencer puts a hand out. "Never would have guessed that one. Guess it's good then, right?"
Jon tries again. "Brendon-"
"Guess it's good that Cassie's dead then? Before she found that one out?"
Brendon's hurt, Jon knows, and he's definitely got a part to blame in it, but it's still kick to the chest to hear the words coming from Brendon's lips. He can feel Spencer frowning at him, confused and curious at this turn of events.
"Jon?"
He doesn't look at Spencer. It's just him and Brendon, standing there, staring at each other. Brendon's eyelashes flutter and he bites his lip. All the anger that was brewing just a minute ago is gone. He can see the remorse in Brendon's face.
"Jon-I,"
"Fuck you, B," Jon manages to breathe out, watching Brendon flinch. It's a small satisfaction.
He turns around and walks out of the restaurant, not looking back.
Spencer slides onto a stool across the bar from Jon. They don't talk, Jon popping the cap off a beer and setting it down on the bar as continues working.
"I'm sorry," Spencer finally blurts out as Jon makes his way back and forth behind the bar. "It was a total dick move last night. I know it and I'm sorry."
With a sigh, Jon stops. Elbows on the bar, he leans forward. "I know, Spence."
It gets him a wary smile and Jon can't stop his own in response. Pushing off, he grabs a wash rag and starts wiping down the bar. It's just past the lunch hour and the bar is quiet except for a couple regulars in the corner. He works in silence, Spencer drinking his beer.
"Who's Cassie?" Spencer asks. His voice is tentative. Jon glances sideways, studying him. Spencer looks tired, a little hung over. He also looks the slightest bit scared, like maybe he really, really fucked up. "Brendon won't talk to you, huh?" Jon says instead.
Spencer deflates, running a hand over his face. "No. No, he won't."
He can't help a small laugh. Spencer looks absolutely miserable. "He'll get over it."
"So who is Cassie?" Spencer asks again, voice still quiet on her name.
"Was," Jon corrects just as quietly. He looks up to find Spencer staring at him, concern written all over his face. Opening his mouth to wave it off, Jon finds himself spending the rest of the afternoon telling him about Cassie.
Spencer listens, and the weight on Jon's chest lifts a little further.
~
Jon stays at the inn for a couple of days, not knowing if he's even welcome at the apartment. Part of him isn't even sure if he wants to go back to the apartment. Which, okay, that's a lie. By the third day, Jon finds himself sitting on the couch in the back room, missing his bed. And his cat. He especially misses Dylan.
And he misses his guitar.
And Brendon.
Jon sighs. He does miss Brendon.
Greta's been giving him these looks over the table at dinner and he knows she's dying to ask. Fortunately, she's been able to hold her tongue, but Jon knows that's not going to last much longer, and to avoid as much awkward conversation as possible with her, he's going to have to go home eventually. Go home to awkward conversation with Brendon instead.
He should have just left well enough alone, dammit. Slumping back into the cushion, Jon flops his head back.
Brendon's there, barely out of the hallway, watching him.
Straightening up, Jon twists around. Neither of them says anything, just studying each other. There are dark circles under Brendon's eyes, like he hasn't been sleeping, and his hair is a mess. Jon's sure he doesn't look much better.
"Hey, B," Jon finally says, his voice low. Brendon's shoulders lower at the words and he scrambles around the couch. Before he knows it, Jon has an armful of Brendon, who keeps repeating sorry over and over against his neck.
Hugging back tightly, Jon whispers his own apologies.
~
Brendon's reluctant at first, despite the fact that he's obviously in love with Spencer. But over the next few weeks, Spencer manages to wear him down. They go on their first "date" two weeks to the day of Spencer's birthday party.
He's sprawled across the couch, Dylan asleep across his left arm, when Brendon gets home. He wanders into the living room, looking a little dazed, fingertips to his bottom lip. Flipping the light on, he startles at the sight of Jon.
"Oh! I didn't think you'd still be up." His eyes narrow as he looks around. Jon had pretty much been sitting in the dark, no TV, just him and the cat. "Were you waiting up?"
"No." Jon says, sitting up. The cat protests the movement, although she barely opens her eyes to give him a dirty look before she rolls over and burrows into the seam of the cushions. She really is the strangest cat.
Brendon laughs, whether at the cat or his blatant lie, Jon's not sure. At least, not until Brendon crows, "You totally were!"
"Whatever," Jon mumbles. His left arm is a little numb where Dylan's laying across it. "Bid D and I were taking a nap."
Brendon leans against the couch arm, raising an eyebrow. "At 1:30 in the morning?"
"Fine, " Jon capitulates."I am the lame big-brother figure who waits up, okay?" A look passes over Brendon's face, quickly enough that Jon's not sure what it was. "How was it then?"
Brendon practically glows at the question, flopping down on the couch. A tiny bit of wistfulness coils through Jon. He remembers that feeling. Pushing it away, Jon puts an arm around Brendon's shoulders, pulling the both of them back into the cushions.
"Tell me."
The initial phase is bad. Watching the goofy eyes, and Brendon being so happy that it hurts, keeps pulling that wistful-Jon refuses to call it jealous-feeling from him. He keeps not thinking about it.
Then things get physical.
"Seriously, you guy.” Jon slaps the magnet harder than he probably needs to since it nearly bounces off the refrigerator. Pressing it down again, he continues, “I sit on that couch. I watch movies and drink beer on the couch.” There’s a muffled laugh behind him. He turns, eyes narrowing. Both Brendon and Spencer are trying really hard not to smile.
It is funny, he admits, but still.
“My cat sleeps on that couch, you guys.”
“Our cat, you mean.” Brendon rolls his eyes. “And it’s not like we were actually having the sex on the couch.”
“There were shirts off!” Jon flashes to the image of the two of them from earlier, when he’d walked through the door to find the two of them making out on the couch. “And hands! In places!”
It’s not like Jon’s a prude, but courtesy is courtesy. He points to the list now on the fridge, muttering “Read and follow,” before heading out of the room.
“When you’re done,” he adds, “I will be watching shit blowing up in the living room. On the couch. On the couch where there will be no nakedness.” Over his shoulder, Jon yells, “That’s rule three!”
Muffled laughter follows him to the other room.
>>*<<
The sun is painting the tops of the trees orange. They're both sweaty helping clean out the storage shed, but Brendon doesn't hesitate to curve into Jon's side when they finally sit down on the inn's porch swing. Jon lets himself sink into the comfortableness of the moment, the warmth of content that settles in his belly.
It's nice. Familiar.
The thought makes him still.
"Jon?"
Glancing over, he can see the curiosity on Brendon's face. Instead of replying to the question on his face, Jon just says, "You should go get us a beer, dude." Brendon's eyes narrow, but all he does is snort and respond with, "Your legs broken?" before flopping his head against the swing.
Jon moves his gaze back out over the front yard. "Yeah, yeah."
They sit there for a while, quiet, and Jon can't get the feeling to go away.
It rolls around and around in his head over the next day or so. He's quiet, enough that he catches Brendon watches him a couple of times. That doesn't really help either, knowing that Brendon's concerned. It's not until Spencer's back on a bar stool across from him again, that Jon realizes that the moment on the porch was affecting him more than he'd thought.
"You okay?" Spencer asks. He looks straight at Jon, intent.
Jon nods. "Of course."
He turns, pretending to be busy, but turns back around when Spencer says quietly, "You can talk to us, you know."
Spencer's staring down at his beer and Jon watches his ring finger and thumb as the twirl the bottle, sliding around the sweat beading on the glass. Glancing up, Spencer adds, "You do know that, right?" Jon doesn't say anything. With a shrug, Spencer says, "I know you and I haven't known each other that long, but I think we're pretty good friends. I mean, I consider you one of my best friends."
It strikes Jon then, how young Spencer looks, how unsure. Then clear blue eyes meet his and Jon realizes that whatever he was feeling the other day, there in the still heat of the evening on the porch, isn't just for Brendon. His stomach drops.
Well shit.
~
Jonathan?
His mother's voice is tinny over the phone and for a split second, he considers hanging up. Instead, he says, "Hey, Mom."
It's been a while, honey.
"Yeah," Jon answers, nodding like she could see him. "Sorry 'bout that." He can't think of anything to say and a moment later his mom says his name again, quieter.
Everything okay?"
"I think-" He pauses, biting his lip. "It's been a long time since I've been home."
Yes. Her voice is subdued, neutral as she adds, Are you thinking of coming back to Chicago?
He notices how she doesn't say home. "Maybe," he mumbles. From the corner of his eye, he can see Betty. "Chicago sounds pretty good right now."
A noise in the hallway makes him turn. Brendon's standing in the door to his room, his eyes wide. They stare at each other for a long minute. Then Brendon turns sharply, walking away.
With a sigh, Jon sits down heavily on his bed.
Honey?
He starts talking.
His mother's last words keep echoing around and around his head.
She wouldn't want you to not get better, Jonathan.
He stumbles around a customer coming out of Carden's and mumbles an apology.
She wouldn't want you to never fall in love again.
That last beer after his shift probably wasn't the best idea, but Brendon's been avoiding him like the plague for the last two days, and he felt he'd deserved it. Spencer's suspicious absence was kind of grinding on his nerves, too.
Disgruntled by his own thoughts, Jon nearly misses Brendon's voice. He stumbles to a stop at the mouth of the alley.
Even from here, Jon can tell Brendon's upset. The line of his body is stiff, movements short and jerky. Spencer reaches out and curls a hand around his neck, and Brendon leans into the touch, eyes closing. Wrapping his other arm around Brendon, Spencer pulls him in until Brendon's cheek is resting against his chest.
There's a surge of something that Jon can't label anything but jealousy. It's followed lightning-quick by guilt. Brendon opens his eyes and looks right at Jon. A moment later, he turns his face into Spencer's neck, away from Jon.
As Jon watches, Spencer tips his chin down to say something. Brendon nods in response, fisting his hands into Spencer's t-shirt.
Jon finally makes his feet move, getting past the alley. He needs another beer.
Brendon doesn't come home that night. It's not the first time, but after earlier, it's a pointed absence.
~
"So-"
Greta slaps at his feet until Jon moves them down, giving her room to sit down. The movement makes swing shift, but Greta slides onto the bench with easy practice.
"I hear you might be leaving us soon."
Jon drops his head to his chest. He should know better to think gossip wouldn't get around. Instead of answering, he shrugs. Greta's stare is like a physical thing and Jon knows he's a bit of a coward for not looking up to meet it. Greta's sigh sounds almost disappointed. It makes him feel worse. "Oh Jon-"
Her voice breaks off as the door opens. Jon finally looks up, to find Brendon standing there. Greta looks back and forth between them, eyes lighting up. "Oh."
Jon glances at her. A smile is spreading across her face and Jon opens his mouth. To say what, he's not sure-it's not what you think, maybe? Only that's really a big fat lie. It's almost comical how quickly she's off the swing, slipping past Brendon, back into the inn. Jon knows she'll probably be watching from behind the curtains anyway.
With a sigh, he pats the spot next to him.
Tentatively, Brendon takes a seat. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, and when he does speak, it's not what Jon was expecting. "You realize you've been here for over a year?" He doesn't look at Jon, staring out across the yard. "You were a totally different person then. With reason, I know," he rushes on.
"You really kind of scared me at first. You looked-You were so sad, it hurt to look at you sometimes." Jon's throat is tight. It's not, he realizes suddenly, not because thinking about Cassie makes him sad, but that fact that Brendon sounds like it hurts him, to see Jon like that. He can't say anything and Brendon doesn't speak again. They sit there in silence.
"Don't go," Brendon finally blurts out, twisting around to face Jon. He grabs at Jon's hand, twisting their fingers together. His palms are sweat, the look on his face earnest. It's open and raw, and Jon swallows hard. Hesitant, Brendon leans in. He's searching Jon's face, like he's waiting for rejection, waiting for Jon to pull back.
Jon doesn't move.
Leaning forward, Brendon brushes his mouth across Jon's. It's impossibly brief. "Please," Brendon whispers, staring intently at Jon. "Please don’t leave."
His heart is going to burst out of his chest, it's beating so hard. It takes a couple tries, and Jon has to force himself to focus, but he finally asks, "What about Spencer?"
"What about Spencer?"
Jon jerks his head around to find Spencer standing at the bottom of the porch. He hadn't even heard him walk up.
"What about me?" Spencer repeats, making his way up the steps. He stops next the swing, and Jon has to tilt his head back in order to look him in the face. After a moment's hesitation-Jon can feel Brendon holding his breath next to him-Spencer bends down. He hesitates close enough that Jon can feel his breath, and Jon moves then, tilting his chin up. Spencer quits hesitating.
The kiss is different this time. More sure, harder, and Spencer curls his arm around Jon's neck, thumb resting just under his jaw. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jon thinks smooth. It doesn't matter though, he likes it.
Jon's vaguely aware of Bob's truck is pulling up, but it's not until the door slams that Spencer pulls away. A blush is starting to color his cheeks, and when starts to step back, Jon reaches out, wrapping a hand around his wrist. His own face is noticeably warm.
Bob stomps up the steps, suitcase in his hand. Brendon huffs out a laugh at the muttered, "Maybe the freezer will finally get fixed, cripes," before Bob slams inside.
They're all holding still, embarrassed and unsure. But Spencer slides his hand until his fingers tangle with Jon's, glancing over at Brendon with a small smile.
"Man-"
They all startle at the voice. Spencer jerks, whipping his head around.
Looking around him, Jon sees a twig of a guy. He's all limbs, dressed in a hounds tooth suit. A felt hat sits on top of his head, brown hair curling out from underneath it. There's what Jon's fairly sure is a lace scarf around his throat.
"I knew you had it bad for Brendon, but I think the new guy definitely gets the beard bonus."
A disbelieving smile spread across Spencer's face.
"Ryan?!"
Twig-guy breaks out in grin and Spencer laughs. Moving back to the stairs, he tugs on Jon’s hand to follow. Brendon finds his other hand as they stumble off the swing, his grip almost on the uncomfortable side. This should be interesting, Jon thinks.
He finds himself looking forward to it.
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