not!fic that follows Always One Foot on the Ground

[sneaky_sena]

So, yeah, I wrote a lot of story that I couldn't actually fit into my bandomstuffsit story in time to make the deadline, so this starts up right where Always One Foot on the Ground leaves off, right in the same scene and everything.

So I had a lot written and then I made some not!fic to tie it all together and here you go.

They're dozing again, sometimes waking enough to exchange sleepy kisses, when Ryan walks in.

"My eyes," says Ryan, shutting the door behind him.

Brendon laughs and presses his face to Spencer's chest.

"You can't see anything you've never seen before." Spencer tugs the blanket up a little further nonetheless.

"It smells like my car in here."

"Your car actually smells like Zesty Citrus Splash right now."

"Not vanilla?"

"They were out. The only choices were cherry, new car smell, or citrus."

Ryan frowns and drops his backpack next to his desk. "How can they run out of vanilla? That's, like, basic."

"You do realize we're naked under here, right?" Spencer asks. He's pretty sure Ryan knows, but he thinks he should make sure.

"I'm trying not to think about it." Ryan rifles through some papers on his desk, takes a couple of books out of his backpack and puts different ones back in. "I'm going to my Russian Lit study group, and when I get back you're going to be wearing clothes, right?"

"No promises," Spencer tells him.

Ryan rolls his eyes and flips them the bird as he leaves again.

And Brendon and Spencer are dressed when he gets back, but just barely, and only because Brendon has to go to work and start delivering pizzas at six, which he does pretty much every Friday night, delivering pizzas from six o'clock at night until two in the morning, because he works at one of those late-night delivery places.

Also, it's not even his car that he drives around delivering pizzas in because he's a freshman, and freshman can't have cars on campus, and Brendon's way too poor to afford one, anyway. The car actually belongs to the pizza shop, so once he's done with his shift, Brendon has to walk back to campus, which isn't too bad and only takes him about half an hour, but it's starting to get really cold.

Spencer's not very happy about Brendon walking that far in the freezing cold at two o'clock in the morning, so Brendon plays it down, because Spencer's kind of fierce and he has definite opinions about things, but he's never had to make it on his own so he doesn't really understand. Brendon doesn't really mind the walk, and it's not like it's through a dangerous neighborhood, and unlike Spencer he actually likes cold weather, and what's he going to do? Complain that he has to walk half an hour home from a job where the owner's cool enough to pay him under the table so that he can make enough money to live on?

Brendon's financial aid pays for room and board and most of his tuition, but not all of it. And all the money he'd saved up as a kid so the he could afford to go on a mission is already gone, used to pay for his apartment when he left his parents' house, used to pay for food and bills and college application fees.

And now Brendon has to pay a tiny sliver of tuition, which wouldn't be bad if he didn't also have to pay for books, and he's pretty sure he's going to need actual boots to walk across campus in when it really snows, and he's thinking that his winter coat from Vegas is probably not going to be warm enough when it's below zero, even if he does like the cold.

And his meal plan is only for twelve meals a week, and Brendon totally can't live on two meals a day during the week and only dinner on the weekend, he'd die of starvation, so he's got to pay for the cereal and shit he keeps around to eat when he's starving and out of meals for the week, which is another reason that working at a pizza place totally does not suck.

So Spencer's unhappy about this tiny little thing, Brendon walking home from work in the middle of the night, but it really honestly isn't a big deal to Brendon, so he's really surprised one night when he gets off work and Spencer's there waiting for him with, like, hot chocolate, being all nonchalant about it like he just happened to be walking down the street at two o'clock in the morning with two hot chocolates in his hands.

And Spencer doesn't really say anything, just hands Brendon his hot chocolate, which is just the way Spencer is. When he's shy or embarrassed, he totally clams up, which is the opposite of Brendon. When Brendon's shy or embarrassed, he just keeps talking and talking and talking and he can't really stop himself.

But Spencer's kind of quiet on the walk back to Brendon's dorm, and Brendon realizes that it's because Spencer showing up with hot chocolate to walk him home is, like, a gesture, and that Spencer's telling Brendon that he's important in his weird Spencer language.

Brendon just says things out loud, just says things like, "I really like you," or, "You're important to me," or, "I'm kind of in love with you." He hasn't said that last part to Spencer, yet, though. Not because it's not true, because he's pretty sure he really is falling in love with Spencer. He hasn't said it because he doesn't want to freak Spencer out, because Spencer's all reserved and stoic and he blushes easily.

Brendon actually really likes it when Spencer blushes, but he does worry about embarrassing him too much and making Spencer not like him anymore, and as they're walking back to the dorms making stupid conversation in the hushed stillness of the night and drinking their hot chocolates, Brendon realizes that Spencer showing up like that is a gesture, that maybe in Spencer language it means that Spencer's falling in love with him, too, which is amazing.

Brendon's roommate is this hulking giant of a guy who was, like, a football star in his tiny hometown, and who's always angry and kind of rude because he's not settling in well at college. Brendon's tried to invite him along when he goes places with his friends, but Josh doesn't want to make new friends, Josh just wants to hang out with all his friends from high school and he drives the two hours back to his hometown pretty much every weekend which Brendon thinks is kind of sad, but he doesn't mind too much because that means he's usually got the room to himself from Friday night until Monday afternoon.

So Brendon's got his room to himself, and he invites Spencer up, which is, like, not even subtle, he knows. He might as well just say, "We should go have sex, now," which he totally would if he wasn't still trying to be the best version of himself in front of Spencer.

Brendon's not very good at having a boyfriend, which he thinks is totally okay and doesn't worry about too much because it's not like he's ever had any actual practice. He's never dated anybody before as long as he's dated Spencer, and they've only been seeing each other for, like, a month and a half. He was actually really relieved that Spencer'd never had a boyfriend before at all, because that meant he wasn't the only one who didn't know what the hell he was doing.

Spencer's a really good boyfriend, though, like right out of the gate. He totally doesn't get annoyed when Brendon's being a dork and he laughs at Brendon's stupid jokes and he's shy about holding Brendon's hand in public sometimes, but not in a shitty way. Spencer's just shy, especially when it comes to expressing his emotions, so when he's being reserved, Brendon knows it's because of that and not because he's ashamed of Brendon or ashamed of being gay or any of that bullshit.

Brendon kind of dated a couple of guys who were still in the closet with no desire to come out, like, ever, and it was really shitty. He hated feeling like he wasn't good enough for public consumption, which is probably why he didn't date either one of them for longer than a couple of weeks.

So Brendon doesn't really know much about relationships, but he knows sex. He thinks he's pretty good at it, and he really likes having it, and he especially likes having sex with Spencer.

He takes Spencer up to his dorm room, and it's three o'clock in the morning by then and everything is quiet, and he takes Spencer's clothes off and kisses him everywhere and makes Spencer shudder and moan and blush in the good way, because that's Brendon's version of a gesture.

And because gestures aren't really his style, he also says it, is thinking about it as he's sucking Spencer's cock, so he pulls off and kisses the inside of Spencer's thigh, high up where it joins his hip, and he says, "You're so good to me."

Spencer laughs, kind of weak and broken, and his fingers curl through Brendon's hair. He's always gentle with his touches, never yanks Brendon's hair or shoves his head down, even though sometimes Brendon thinks he wouldn't mind.

"I'm kind of in love with you," Brendon says, watching Spencer's face, and Spencer goes completely still and he closes his eyes and he says, "Yeah," so soft Brendon can barely hear it. In Spencer language, that's practically a ticker-tape parade. So Brendon surges up to kiss him and Spencer kisses him back hard and Brendon doesn't think he's ever been so happy.

Thanksgiving sucks. Thanksgiving sucks so hard Brendon can hardly stand it. It's not his first Thanksgiving alone, he's been on his own since the start of his senior year of high school, but at least the first Thanksgiving alone he'd had his rage to keep him company. Now, though, it's been over a year since he's spoken to anyone he's related to, and he's kind of mellowed about it. It's still a sore spot, and he's really thankful that Spencer never brings it up, never makes him talk about it, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it did.

That's why he's so surprised that Thanksgiving sucks as bad as it does. Maybe it's because ninety percent of the entire campus is gone and the only open dining hall is the one in the student union, which is a long walk on an eerily empty campus. And maybe it's because he's stupid in love with Spencer, and Spencer's gone, back to Summerlin, back to Brendon's stupid hometown.

Everything about Thanksgiving hurts, from trying to watch the stupid Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV without thinking about every year he'd watched it with his family, to having to eat by himself since all his friends are gone, to having absolutely nothing to do except spend time alone, inside his own head.

He doesn't mean to think about his family, but he does, and he tortures himself thinking about how they're probably all gathered in the living room and his mom's probably playing the piano. He thinks that everyone's probably there, his brothers and sisters and their spouses and all their kids. He thinks that everybody's probably laughing and happy and that nobody misses him at all. He thinks that they've probably even forgotten he exists. He thinks that probably, not even one of them is looking around wishing he was there. He misses them so much that he can hardly breathe, has to roll onto his back and press his hands to the mattress and concentrate on filling his lungs with air.

He tries not to think about it, tries to think about good things, instead, his friends and music and Spencer. But maybe Spencer's not thinking about him, either. Maybe Spencer's forgotten about him. Maybe all of his friends don't even remember that he exists now that they're happy and warm, back with their families, stuffing themselves with food.

His phone rings and he's curled up on his bed, too busy drowning in self-pity to get up and answer it. It's Greta's ringtone, anyway. He feels good that at least she didn't forget him. His phone rings a couple of more times, Greta's ringtone again, and then Dallon's. His phone beeps to tell him he's got voicemail and he goes up to get his phone, but he doesn't check his voicemail, just takes it back to his bed where he curls up again.

He answers when Spencer calls, he says, "Happy Thanksgiving!" in this totally fake voice.

Spencer says, "Yeah, you too. Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Brendon asks, and he knows he sounds weird, voice tight and sharp. He closes his eyes, says. "I'm having kind of a shitty day. Can I call you back?"

"Yeah," Spencer whispers. "Of course. I miss you."

He's starting to cry and he doesn’t want Spencer to know, so he just says, "Yeah," and hangs up.

He cries hard, buries his face in his pillow so no one can hear him even though everyone else is gone, even though he might be one of maybe four people left in his entire twelve-story dorm. He cries until he's shaking, until his pillow's a mess of snot and tears and he starts to hiccup.

His phone's still in his hand and it buzzes when he gets a text from Spencer. It says, did I ever tell u abt the time I got stranded on lake mead for hrs? call me if you want to hear the story.

Brendon curls up on his bed and reads the message again because it doesn't make much sense. He waits until he's stopped crying completely, blows his nose and finally he calls Spencer. He says, "You got stranded on Lake Mead?"

"Dude," Spencer says, "on a jetski. It was epic."

Spencer tells him all about floating in the middle of Lake Mead desperately trying to get the passing boats' attention. Then he tells Brendon a story about the time when he was ten and he and Ryan got caught shoplifting candy bars. That leads, somehow, into the story of how Ryan lost his virginity while still wearing his mad scientist Halloween costume, and Brendon's never heard Spencer say so much at one time before.

Spencer just keeps talking, just keeps telling Brendon all these stupid, hilarious stories, and Brendon doesn't know how Spencer knows it's the right thing, how he knows it's exactly what Brendon needs at the moment, but somehow he does.

"You're kind of amazing," Brendon tells him.

"I'm kind of in love with you," Spencer replies. "Like, a lot. You know that, right? Even though I never say it?"

"Yeah," Brendon replies, and he does, but it's really nice to hear the words.

They talk for so long that Brendon has to plug his phone in so the battery doesn't die, and then he has to put Spencer on speakerphone because his ears are starting to hurt, and then he looks up and sees that it's dawn, that they've actually talked all night long.

His friends just decide that he's not going to spend Christmas break alone in the dorms. They don't even ask him, just tell him he's got the choice of where to go, Chicago or Salt Lake City or Las Vegas or Waco, but he has to pick one and if he won't, they'll chop him into fourths and each take a piece with them.

Actually, Greta's the only one who says she's going to chop him into quarters if he won't decide, but she says it with kind of a crazy grin on her face so in the end he chooses Chicago. He's a little afraid of Ashlee's Baptist family, and he's definitely afraid of Dallon's LDS family, and he doesn't want to just crash in on Spencer's family for three weeks when they don't even know who he is, don't know that he's Spencer's boyfriend or that Spencer even has a boyfriend or that Spencer's even gay.

"I don't know how to tell them," Spencer whispers one night when they're alone in Brendon's dorm room, Josh gone once again for the weekend. "How did you tell your parents?"

Brendon smiles wryly at him. "Do you really want to take advice from me on how to come out to your parents?"

Spencer sighs. "I don't know. Maybe?"

"I came out because I was angry," Brendon admits. "I told them because I wanted to hurt them. And I did. So, you know. Don't do it that way."

Spencer doesn't even tell Brendon that he's really going to do it, going to tell them, until he's already done it. They're sitting in the Union, both of them between classes, and Spencer says, "I talked to my parents last night. About, um, me."

It takes Brendon a couple of seconds to realize what Spencer's saying, and once he does he makes himself stay calm and ask," And?"

Spencer shrugs and looks unhappy. "They're not going to be throwing me a parade when I get home," he says.

The bottom drops out of Brendon's stomach. He doesn't want Spencer to go through the same things he did, and he feels so helpless to stop it, to protect him.

"They're, I mean, they're not going to try to get me cured or anything," Spencer tells him. "I think mostly it was just really unexpected. I think it'll be okay. Or, I don't know. Ryan thinks it'll be okay, so." He huffs out a breath and rolls his shoulders and sets his jaw in the way he does when he doesn't want to talk about something.

And Spencer knew his parents wouldn't be, like, over the moon about it. He knew they'd probably be a little upset. He just hadn't expected them to be so disappointed. His mother had cried and told him it wasn't the life she wanted for him and his father had lapsed into uncomfortable silence before telling Spencer they'd talk about it again when he got back for Christmas.

So between the really awkward, difficult conversations he knows he's going to have with his parents and not being able to spend the holidays with Brendon, Spencer feels like total shit when he leaves for Las Vegas. He's tense and cranky the whole way, snapping at Ryan when he hogs the armrest between their chairs and muttering under his breath about the stupid fucking crying baby that is on a personal mission to pierce Spencer's eardrums.

Ryan gives Spencer his fancy noise-cancelling headphones and his tiny little package of pretzels and half his soda, and by the time the plane touches down in Las Vegas Spencer's somewhat mollified. It's rare that Ryan's the one taking care of Spencer, usually it's the other way around, but Ryan's pretty good at taking care of people when he wants to be.

His parents don't say anything the first night, anyway, just greet him and Ryan at the airport with giant hugs and take them home and feed them. Spencer's mom worries that he's lost too much weight since he's been gone, but he thinks of it as a good thing. He likes not being the fat kid anymore.

He's also grown a couple of inches, so his mom gives him money to go clothes shopping and get actual pants that don't stop at his ankles and will stay up without a belt. He and Ryan go to the mall on their third day home, and Spencer could spend the entire day there, but Ryan hates the mall at Christmas and makes them leave after a couple of hours.

He drives them to a park in a part of Summerlin that Spencer doesn’t know very well and they sit on the swings and after a while Spencer asks what they're doing there.

"Recon," Ryan tells him, and tips his chin towards a house across the street from the park. The house looks like Christmas threw up all over it, with decorations and lights and actual Santa and reindeer statues on the roof.

Spencer says, "It looks like Christmas threw up over there."

Ryan says, "That's Brendon's house."

Spencer just breathes really slowly and he doesn't want to be there anymore.

"He gave me this," Ryan says, pulling a thick envelope out of his pocket. "He wanted me to deliver it. I don't know why he didn't just put it in the mail."

Spencer takes the envelope from Ryan's hand. The only thing written on the outside is, To Mom and Dad in Brendon's handwriting. "Why didn't he give it to me?" he asks.

"He probably thought you'd tell his mom to go fuck herself."

Spencer nods. It's a definite possibility. Brendon hasn't told him every detail, but he's said enough. Spencer knows how hard it was for Brendon to tell his family the truth about not believing in God. He knows how hard it was for him to turn away from the church. He knows how hard it was for him to tell them he was gay. He knows how hard it is for Brendon, still, to live with how easily they turned their backs on him.

"So go deliver it so we can leave," Spencer says.

Ryan says, "Fuck," and leans his head against one of the swing's support chains. Ryan hates family drama more than pretty much anything.

"Fine," says Spencer, and he gets up and stalks across the park, jogs across the empty street, walks up the driveway and is halfway there when he starts to panic a little bit. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't even know if it's actually Brendon's house. He wants to turn around, only Ryan's watching him, and there's a wreath on the front door that says The Uries on the top, and there are shiny little tin presents nestled into the wreath with names on their gift tags, and the smallest one says Brendon on it.

Spencer rings the doorbell and he hates Ryan irrationally and is so uncomfortable he wants to crawl out of his skin, so when nobody comes to the door, he puts the envelope on the welcome mat and turns to go.

He's just stepping off the porch when the front door opens, but he doesn't stop walking, not until he's practically at the street and a woman's voice behind him is saying, "Wait, wait, please!"

Spencer wants to keep walking, but she sounds sort of heartbroken and terrified, so he stops and turns around, and he sees Brendon's mom running towards him, the letter clutched in her hands.

"Is he okay?" she asks, breathless. Her eyes are just like his, huge and dark brown, and she's tiny, she barely comes up to Spencer's shoulder, and she's barefoot and she doesn't have a jacket on over her thin cotton turtleneck with little holly sprigs all over it, and it's warmer than it is in the Midwest, but December in Vegas is still really cold. "Is Brendon okay?" she asks, and she's shivering.

Spencer nods once.

"Is he here?" She's looking over Spencer's shoulder, then around her desperately. He sees her squint at Ryan, still sitting on the swingset in the park, and he sees the pain and disappointment on her face when she realizes he's not Brendon, and Spencer has a really, really hard time hating her. There's very little chance that he's actually going to tell her to go fuck herself now.

"Where is he?" she asks.

"Not here," Spencer says. He doesn't know how much Brendon wants her to know. "Not, um, not in Nevada anymore."

She nods and a gust of wind catches the pages in her hand and some of them get away, and suddenly she's frantic, running after the pages of the letter, and Spencer helps her, and Ryan comes across the street, too, grabbing the one piece of paper that had blown his way.

Brendon's mom shivers in the freezing cold wind, and she tells them they should come inside. Both Ryan and Spencer say no, shake their heads, make any excuses they can think of, but in the end she just looks at them with her huge brown eyes and says, "Please?" and they both agree.

She makes them hot chocolate, the real kind you make on the stove with milk and everything. Spencer's only ever had instant hot chocolate before.

It's so awkward. Spencer doesn't know what to say, and it's not like Ryan's going to start making conversation, and the whole house is bright and cheerful. There's a huge Christmas tree in the den, he can see it from the kitchen, and there are family pictures on all the walls. There are those picture frames that hold every single one of a kid's school pictures in a circle, and then in the center there's the senior picture, and Spencer looks at them, at Brendon's brothers and sisters, and he gets to the one for Brendon but there's not a senior picture in the center because, of course, he probably never got one taken.

So they sit there, awkward and silent at the kitchen table, and Spencer keeps his eyes on his mug of hot chocolate because Mrs. Urie is reading the letter over and over again and she's got this brave face on, the same one Brendon gets when he's upset and he wants to cry but he refuses to let himself. And every time he looks up at Ryan, Ryan's glaring at him like he hates Spencer more than anything in the entire world for getting them into this mess.

Spencer says, "We should go."

"Yes," says Ryan, standing up so fast he almost tips his chair over.

"Stay," says Brendon's mom. "You should stay for dinner, I can make spaghetti or chicken or--"

"You should call him," Spencer says.

She looks down at the letter, smoothes her hands over it, and she whispers, "He didn't give me any way, he didn't even give me his phone number."

Spencer's still thinking of what he should say to that when Ryan grabs a pen off the counter and writes Brendon's number down for her. "It was nice to meet you," he says, and he grabs Spencer's arm and hauls him out of the house, and when Spencer looks back he sees that Mrs. Urie is already up and standing by the phone.

"Holy shit," says Ryan as they duck down against the cold and run across the park to where Ryan had parked Spencer's mom's minivan.

"Holy shit," Spencer echoes.

"I mean," says Ryan. "That was just. Oh, my God, I hate you so bad."

"It wasn't my fault! You were supposed to deliver the letter, not me!"

"You weren't supposed to, like, ask to go in!"

"I didn't! You couldn't say no to her, either."

"Fuck," says Ryan, and they finally make it into the minivan.

Spencer leans back in the passenger seat and covers his face with his hands. "Brendon's going to hate me," he whispers.

Ryan shrugs and starts the minivan. "If she never calls him, he'll never even know."

Spencer calls Brendon, but it goes to voicemail. "Do you think they're talking right now?" he asks.

"Maybe."

When they get back to Spencer's house, his mom wants to see all the clothes they got. He refuses to try everything on for her, but he does let her look through the bags.

"What's wrong?" his mother asks when Spencer's less than enthusiastic about the amazing snow boots he found for 60% off.

"We went to go deliver a letter to Spencer's boyfriend's estranged parents," Ryan tells her. "She invited us in for hot chocolate. It was awkward. The situation, not the hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was really good."

"Oh," says Spencer's mother quietly. "Your. You have, um, you have a boyfriend?"

"You didn't tell her about Brendon?" Ryan asks. "Okay. And again it's awkward. I'm going to go away now and do some sort of thing that's not here."

Spencer sits down next to his mom on the couch in the living room. "I kind of wanted you to get used to the idea of me being gay before I brought Brendon into it," he says.

"Is he a nice boy?" she asks.

Spencer nods, and since she doesn't seem especially freaked out about it, he says, "Yeah, he's nice. I really like him."

"Ryan said he and his parents are estranged?"

Spencer nods. "Yeah. For over a year, now. They kicked him out. I would have said they were monsters before, but after meeting his mom, I don't know." He tells her about the letter and Brendon's mom running after him in her bare feet and the way she'd just kept reading the letter over and over again, fingers tracing over the words.

Spencer's mom hugs him so tight it's actually uncomfortable, and she's teary eyed but she promises him that she loves him and that she's not angry or disappointed and that even if things get rocky she and his dad will never, ever turn their backs on him.

And then when his dad gets home from work, he hears his parents talking in hushed tones and they knock on Spencer's door and say they want to talk to him.

It's just as uncomfortable and awkward as he thought it would be, and he loses his temper a couple of times because, yeah, okay, he's eighteen, but he's not an idiot. He knows his own mind. He knows who he's attracted to. He starts to get really pissed off when it feels like his mom's giving him a fucking pop quiz, like she's trying to trick him, like if she just pokes the right button he'll say, "Holy shit, you're right, I'm not gay, I'm really just confused."

His mom keeps asking him how he knows, how he's sure, and he finally just snaps and says, "I don't know. How did you know that you liked dick?"

"Spencer," his father says harshly.

"Well, what kind of question is that?" Spencer asks him. "How am I sure? Because I'm sure. Because I have enough brain function to be aware of who I am and am not attracted to. Christ."

Spencer's mom sags against the wall and rubs her forehead. "I'm sorry," she says.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," Spencer tells her. "I'm just. I know, okay? I'm sure. And it's not like this is the major defining factor in my life or anything, but it's part of it, it's part of me. So." He shrugs.

His mom hugs him again, just as hard as before. His dad hugs him, too. Spencer's exhausted, and he's so grateful when Ryan comes up with a giant bowl of popcorn and stupid action movies and Spencer can just stare at the television and watch things blow up and not have to think.

He tries to call Brendon again, but it doesn't even ring, just goes straight to voicemail. He sends him a text saying, miss you, call me back.

For two days, Brendon's phone goes to voicemail and he doesn't return any of Spencer's texts.

"He hates me," Spencer whispers. He hasn't slept the entire night, and now the sun's starting to come up.

Ryan's half asleep, curled up against him, and he takes Spencer's phone and tosses it to the floor. "Too early," he says.

Spencer looks up at the ceiling and listens to Ryan snore and tries to fight the sick ache in his belly telling him that Brendon's never going to speak to him again.

Then just after lunch, the doorbell rings and Spencer answers it and it's Brendon, right there on his front porch, and he's smiling so wide and he takes Spencer's face in his hands and he kisses him over and over again.

Spencer kisses back, so freaking happy that Brendon doesn't hate him that he's laughing as they kiss, and Brendon's laughing, and it's not until one of his sisters says, "Oh my God," that Spencer realizes that Brendon's backed him up into the hallway far enough that everyone still at the kitchen table finishing up lunch is watching them.

Ryan takes a bite of one of the Christmas cookies the girls had baked the night before and he says, "This is the kind of awkward I'm okay with."

Brendon's blushing and embarrassed and he presses his face to Spencer's shoulder and Spencer says, "What are you even doing here?" and Brendon says, "You got me here, you went to my Mom and she called me and I didn't even know I wanted it but I did and you're amazing, you're so amazing, she said you went over there to talk to her and--"

Spencer kisses him again. He knows his mom and his sisters are watching but he doesn't even care, and it's not like Ryan's never seen it before.

"Wait," says one of Spencer's sisters. "Wait, so Spencer's gay, now? Is that what all the drama's been about lately?"

"He looks pretty gay," says his other sister.

"He's really gay," says Ryan. "They're like this pretty much all the time."

Spencer pulls away and tries to compose himself. It's just that he's so relieved and Brendon looks so happy and his mouth is so red that Spencer wants to kiss him forever. He does pull away, though, and Brendon's still blushing and he ducks his head down and keeps his eyes on the floor when Spencer says, "So, um, this is Brendon."

"It's nice to meet you," says Spencer's mother. And she's a little tense, but she's not rude or cold at all, she just seems like she's a little shell shocked from having to watch Spencer make out with a guy right there in front of her. Spencer makes a mental note to keep the PDA to a minimum for everybody's sake, his included.

Spencer finds out later--hours later, since his mom's a good hostess and insists on feeding Brendon and engaging him in conversation and inviting him to watch A Christmas Story with them all in the living room, so it's hours before Spencer and Brendon can sneak off to talk privately--that Brendon packed so quickly after his mother called him that he forgot his phone charger in Chicago, which is why he never answered Spencer's texts.

"I thought you hated me," Spencer admits, pulling Brendon close. And it's not like they're actually anywhere private. They're just in the laundry room, and the door doesn't have a lock, but at least they're the only two people there. Spencer's mom has been watching him all afternoon, even when they were watching the movie every time he looked over, she was looking right at him, right at Brendon curled up next to him on the couch.

Brendon's sitting on top of the washer and Spencer's standing between his thighs, his hands on Brendon's hips, and their foreheads are tipped together as they talk, and it's such a relief. Spencer didn't realize until right then how much he physically missed having Brendon near him, how this whole level of tension and loss is gone now that Brendon's there close enough to touch.

Brendon tells him all about his mom's phone call, how scared he'd been to see his old phone number pop up on his phone after a year and a half of nothing at all. He tells Spencer that he'd been terrified that something horrible had happened, that somebody had died, had actually thought that there would be no other reason for his family to get in touch with him. Then it turned out that his mother had actually missed him, that she still loved him, that his whole family still loved him and they wanted him to come home.

"I thought you hated me for talking to her," Spencer whispers.

Brendon shakes his head and kisses Spencer softly. "No. No, I wouldn't do that to you, Spence. If I'm mad, if I'm ever that mad, I promise I'll tell you. I won't ever just cut off contact with you, okay?"

Spencer says okay and he feels relieved and he wants so much. He wants to kiss Brendon over and over again and he wants to be alone with him, really alone with him in a way that's impossible right then. "My family," he says, pulling away when he hears his mother's voice just down the hall.

Brendon nods and looks simultaneously amused and disappointed. "Yeah," he says. "Mine, too."

Spencer resigns himself to not having sex until they're back at school in a couple weeks, and it really sucks. He kisses Brendon as many times as he can before Brendon has to leave, has to get home in time for dinner. He gets Brendon's parents' number, and gives Brendon his number because, of course, Brendon's phone is still dead and Brendon never memorized Spencer's number, just relied on his phone to always have it.

It's two days before Christmas, so things start getting hectic and they don't have time to see each other, and Spencer's kind of glad. Not that he can't see Brendon, but that Brendon's so busy with his family.

He'd never asked about Brendon's family, had straight up told him, "I'm not going to ask you about them, about what happened, but that doesn't mean you can't tell me things if you want to." And Brendon had, had told him about the many things that led up to their final separation. The God thing. The drinking thing. The gay thing. The weed thing. The music thing. And finally, the most crucial thing, the "No, seriously, I'm not going on a mission," thing.

Spencer can't imagine spending two years in a strange place with strange people, cut off from his family, cut off from the world.

Brendon had told him about a lot of it, most of it Spencer suspects, but not all. Brendon had told him and he'd sometimes pretended to be okay with it and sometimes pretended to be over it and sometimes pretended that he couldn't care less, but it had just been pretend. He'd cared, it had hurt, and Spencer hadn't been able to do anything about it.

So Spencer's glad that Brendon's busy with his family, smiles against the phone when Brendon tells him about being overwhelmed with all the hugs he's gotten in the past couple of days. He's got a brand new niece who's only four months old and Brendon's so enchanted with her, tells Spencer about the way she smiles at him and holds his finger really tight and laughs and drools and is the smartest, most amazing four month old girl in the entire world.

The day after Christmas, Brendon calls him early. Spencer's still asleep when his phone rings and he answers it groggily out of habit, mind not yet engaged.

"Can you come get me?" Brendon asks, and his voice sounds so small that Spencer's immediately awake. He doesn't even ask why, just says he'll be there as soon as he can and makes it in under ten minutes.

Brendon's waiting for him at the end of his driveway, and he's shivering and curled in on himself and he doesn't even wait for Spencer to pull the minivan to a complete stop, just opens the door when it's still rolling and says, "Go," and Spencer does.

Brendon's so tense, so quiet and still. Spencer finally asks, "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care. Not your house. Not anywhere that there's anyone besides you and me. Can you just drive for a while?"

"Sure," Spencer says.

After a while, Brendon starts to relax. He takes a deep breath and leans forward to fiddle with the radio, checking all of Spencer's mom's presets and then giving up and just spinning the dial. They end up listening to a Norteño station. He knows Brendon is inexplicably drawn to the accordion.

"So, I remembered something important this morning," Brendon says finally.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I remembered that I left, that they kicked me out, because when I'm alone with my parents all we do is fight."

"Oh," Spencer says softly.

"We're kind of. It's kind of fucked up. I felt like I was fifteen years old again, the way we were screaming at each other. Me and my dad. I fight with my mom, too, but mostly with my dad. We're both really stubborn. And stupid. God, the fight this morning was so stupid. They pray before meals, my whole family does, and I don't believe in it so I just stay quiet, stay out of it, but he thought I was being disrespectful when I wouldn't pray over breakfast this morning and I thought he was being a controlling asshole and it just kind of escalated from there."

Spencer drives them to The Original Pancake House, which is his favorite place for breakfast. He gets the giant, fruit-filled baked apple pancake and Brendon gets the coconut waffle with a side of sliced bananas and they eat in comfortable silence, feet touching under the table.

"Do you want to go to the mall?" Spencer asks as Brendon's finishing up his coffee. "Fashion Show's probably open."

Brendon puts his coffee cup down and toys with it for a moment, then says, "I want to go someplace we can be alone."

Spencer nods. He wants that, too. But his house is out, and Brendon's house is definitely out, and Ryan's old house is still on the market, sitting empty and unsold, and Spencer still has keys, but the idea of taking Brendon there is horrifying. He says, "Will you freak out if I take you to a motel?"

Brendon shakes his head. He's still looking at his coffee cup but there's a smile forming at the edges of his mouth. "No."

Spencer's never actually rented a motel room before. He thinks maybe it's too early to check in. He voices his concerns as he starts his mom's minivan.

"Head towards Freemont," Brendon tells him, looking out the window. "I know a couple that rent by the hour."

Spencer raises his eyebrows.

"I've never actually rented a room by the hour, but I know where they are," Brendon says.

Spencer pulls into the parking lot of the first motel they see with a sign advertising their hourly rates. "I feel kind of like I'm going to get arrested just walking in the front door," he admits.

"I can--" Brendon starts.

"No," Spencer says, shaking his head. "I'll do it."

The woman in the front office looks like she could be friends with his mother. She's in her fifties, wearing khakis and a sweater set, hair in a pale brown bob. He takes a deep breath. "I, um," he says, trying not to look at the sex toys for sale displayed in a glass case at the register. "I need a room."

"Cash only," she says, pointing to a sign on the back wall that says the exact same thing. She seems really, really bored.

"Okay," says Spencer.

"We're running a Christmas special. Four hours and a pleasure pack for thirty dollars."

"That, um, yes," says Spencer. He takes out his wallet. "That would be good." He kind of wants to die of embarrassment. The only thing stopping him is how completely bored the woman seems, how this seems to be completely normal to her. He gives her thirty dollars, she gives him a room key and a small black plastic bag. Spencer doesn't open it to look inside.

"Oh, my God," he says when he comes out of the front office. Brendon's standing outside the minivan bouncing on his toes.

"Which room are we in?" Brendon asks.

Spencer looks at the key. It's the old-fashioned kind, an actual key on a giant plastic ring instead of an electronic swipe card. "Eight," he says.

Brendon nods and they head down to room eight and Spencer says, "Oh, my God," again. "The lady in there looked like she could have been friends with my mom. They're running a Christmas special."

"Yeah?" Brendon asks as Spencer opens the door to room eight. It smells like cigarettes and Lysol. "Wait, they have a Christmas special?"

"Four hours and a pleasure pack," Spencer tells him.

"What's a pleasure pack?"

"I don't know. I think this." He hands Brendon the plastic bag.

Brendon opens the bag and grins. "Awesome," he says.

"What's in it?" Spencer asks.

"Condoms. I think maybe some lube. Maybe a cock ring?" Brendon pulls something out of the bag. It's a strange, smushed plastic thing in cellophane, hot pink and circular with what looks like a tiny Koosh ball on one side.

"What is that?" Spencer asks.

"I'm pretty sure it's a cock ring. You put it on with the nubbly part on top so it, like, hits her clit. I think."

"Weird," says Spencer.

Brendon nods and sets the thing down on the nightstand. The room is small, just enough space for a bed and a nightstand and a scarred, tilting dresser.

Spencer says, "Holy shit. We're in, like, a hooker motel."

Brendon laughs and grins at him and says, "Yup," and yanks the garish floral bedspread down, exposing the sheets. "It looks clean, though." He takes his jacket off and lays it on top of the dresser. There's an open closet but there are no hangers. He takes his sweater off, too, opens one of the dresser drawers and places it inside.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asks him.

Brendon grins at him and unbuttons his jeans. "What do you think? Clothes off."

Spencer takes a deep breath and starts to undress, then stops. He takes his phone out of his pocket.

"Please tell me you're not going to make a call right now," Brendon says. He's naked and has climbed onto the bed, is kneeling on it and running a hand over his stomach. His cock is still soft, but Spencer can see it starting to swell with arousal.

"No, no, just. Setting an alarm. So we're out in time."

"You think we can last four hours?" Brendon asks, eyes sparkling.

Spencer thinks of entire Sundays spent in Brendon's dorm room, going at it over and over again with bouts of sleep and desperate kissing in between. He says, "Yeah, probably."

"Probably," Brendon agrees.

Kissing Brendon is the easiest thing in the world. Spencer doesn't even have to think about it, it just comes naturally, like it's something he's been doing his entire life. And sex is starting to come just as easy. He's never scared anymore--nervously excited, sure, but never really afraid. He trusts himself, now, trusts Brendon, trusts the way they are together. He trusts that when he slides his hands over Brendon's ribs, Brendon will laugh and press into Spencer's touch. He trusts that even though he tries not to, even though he always says, "Sorry, sorry," and means it, every time Spencer takes Brendon's cock into his mouth, Brendon's hips will jerk up to meet him.

"Sorry, sorry," Brendon gasps, winding his fingers through Spencer's hair.

Spencer smiles at him and goes back to sucking his cock. He knows to expect these things, now, knows to drape his arm over Brendon's hips, to hold him down.

He knows it won't be long before Brendon's grabbing at him and demanding something. Getting his cock sucked makes Brendon frantic, makes him want more, and sometimes he'll grab at Spencer and plead, "Kiss me," or, "Come here." Sometimes it's just, "Oh, God, please, please Spencer, please," with no specific directions given. There in the motel room, he winds his fingers tight in Spencer's hair and pulls and grabs at his shoulder and says, "I need you to fuck me."

Spencer kisses his way up Brendon's stomach, noses at the hairs below his navel, trails his tongue up to his sternum, laps at his nipples. he sheets smell like the grainy pink soap flakes they washed their hands with in elementary school.

Brendon whispers, "Spencer. Please."

Spencer nips at Brendon's skin, looks up at him and says, "You're so bossy."

"I said please." Brendon's voice is wrecked, raw and gritty like he's been the one sucking cock the past ten minutes.

Spencer smiles and pushes up far enough so they can kiss. Then he reaches out and grabs the black plastic bag and dumps the contents onto the bed next to them. There's a strip of three condoms, a plastic pillow of flavored lube, and a dental dam.

"They're red," Spencer says after he rips open one of the condom packets.

Brendon's already turning, already propping himself up on his elbows and knees. He snaps open the lube and the overwhelming scent of artificial watermelon hits Spencer's nose. Spencer's about to comment on it, but Brendon's fingering himself and that will never not be one of the hottest things Spencer's ever seen. He could watch Brendon touch himself for hours, could probably get off just from looking at him, the way he touches himself, the way he holds himself as he twists his fingers inside.

Spencer slicks on the condom quickly and kneels between Brendon's legs. Brendon says, "Do it hard, okay?" And Spencer says, "Okay," because he trusts Brendon to always tell him what he needs.

They have great sex. They pretty much always have great sex. Even when it's funny or embarrassing or one of them falls off the bed (Brendon does this at least once a month), it's still really good. So they have good sex and they snuggle in the skanky motel until it's time for them to leave and in a week they head back to school where Brendon's suddenly got a single room because his old roommate, Josh, is transferring to a community college in his little hometown.

And then they live happily ever after. Except for how after a couple of years, they break up. There are a lot of reasons. Partly Brendon's a little insecure because he thinks he's holding Spencer back from really experiencing life since Brendon's the only guy he's ever dated even a little. And Spencer doesn't think that's the case at all and he doesn't take the questions about it too well. The conversation goes a little like this:

"Do you ever wish, I mean, do you ever look at other guys and wonder if you're missing out?"

"Fuck you."

And then Ryan drops out of school because he's in love with this girl named Tamara who he meets at the farmer's market where she's doing tarot card readings. She wants to hitchhike across the country and, like, follow jam bands around and smoke weed and Ryan goes with her. Spencer thinks it's the stupidest fucking thing he's ever heard, and Brendon's all, "No, he has to fly free, you know? Like, he has to follow his heart." And Spencer's all, "First of all, he's not following his heart, he's following his dick, and second of all, hitchhiking in this day and age is suicidal, and third, jam bands suck, and fourth, he needs to grow the fuck up and think about his future instead of smoking up in some dirty RV surrounded by hippies." So they fight about that, too.

And they fight about a bunch of stuff, small things and big things, and they break up. It's really messy. They're juniors by then, and they're living together, and they share all the same friends, and nobody wants to take sides.

Brendon moves out, and Spencer doesn't even know where he's moved to and he doesn't ask even though he knows all his friends would tell him if he did. It's brutal and it hurts and he hates it so much, hates how tired he is all the time and how sad he is and how it aches in his belly and his chest and just won't seem to stop.

His family is devastated. They loved Brendon and when Spencer calls his mom to tell her that they broke up, that Brendon's moved out, she actually cries. Spencer doesn't cry. He kind of wants to, he thinks he'd probably feel better if he did, but the tears won't come.

He grows a beard and he goes on with his life. He's thankful the business buildings and the music buildings are on the other side of campus from one another so he never has to worry about running into Brendon accidentally. Weeks go buy and he survives, and then it's been months. Greta tells him he should start dating.

"Is Brendon dating?" he asks.

Greta looks away from him and won't answer, and he knows that means yes.

He starts going on dates, mostly with guys Greta fixes him up with. They're okay. He sleeps with a few of them, and that's okay, too. It's not amazing. He mostly just goes on dates because it's what's expected of him. If it was completely up to him, he'd probably just stay at home being grumpy and eating his dinner in front of the TV while watching Hoarding: Buried Alive. Spencer loves Hoarding: Buried Alive. He loves Sister Wives. He loves My Strange Addiction. He loves the entire TLC lineup, except for Toddlers and Tiaras which fills him with homicidal rage.

One night he's sitting home alone watching TLC and somebody knocks and when he opens the door, Ryan's standing there with a backpack over one shoulder. His hair is getting long and he's kind of dirty and Spencer says, "You smell like hippie."

"Jesus Christ, I know," Ryan says. "I will actually pay to use your shower. Only, I don't have any money. I can barter for it. I have goo balls."

"I really hope that's not a medical condition," Spencer says, and Ryan laughs, and Spencer tells him to go take a shower before he stinks up Spencer's entire apartment with patchouli.

"I'm not wearing patchouli," Ryan tells him as he turns on the water in Spencer's shower.

"All hippies wear patchouli. You're just too stoned to remember putting it on this morning," Spencer calls after him.

While Ryan showers, Spencer makes spaghetti for dinner and they sit down in front of the TV to eat and they watch I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. It's maybe Spencer's favorite TLC show of them all.

They talk during the commercials. Ryan and Tamara broke up after she stole all his cash and gave him crabs. Then he spent some time on a dairy farm in Vermont--

"Wait, like, seriously?" Spencer asks him. "You worked with cows?"

"Goats," Ryan says.

"That's so fucked up."

Then Ryan went to New York because he'd never been but he hated it so he hitched a ride down to Florida with these Slovakian mimes--

"You're making that up."

"I'm not. They were from Trnava. Mime is the universal language."

"Bullshit is the universal language. There's not really a place called Trnava, is there?""

And in Florida he tried his hand at picking oranges but that didn't even last a full day since it was really hard work and instead he got a job selling shitty plastic souvenirs to tourists until he got fired for sleeping with his boss' eighteen year-old daughter--

"That's the only part of this whole story I believe."

And then he spent the last of his cash to buy a Greyhound bus ticket back to Spencer. Ryan's in the middle of telling Spencer about the born-again ex-con who'd spent nearly three days trying to convince Ryan to accept Jesus Christ as his personal savior when he pauses and looks at the TV. "Holy shit," he says. "Did that lady just have a baby in a toilet?"

"They're always having babies in toilets," Spencer tells him. "It's awesome."

It's only later that night when Spencer's getting the blankets for the pull-out couch for Ryan to sleep on that Ryan looks around and asks, "Where's Brendon?"

And Spencer's throat constricts and he hugs the blankets tight against him and, of course, that's when he finally cries.

So Ryan moves in and goes about getting back into school to finish up his last two semesters and Spencer goes on with his life and sometimes he sees Brendon across campus and it still really hurts so he never tells anyone about it and he never waves or says hello.

Then Dallon and Greta get engaged, and they throw a huge party to celebrate. "Brendon's going to be there," Greta tells him. "And you're going to be there, too, and you're both going to be civil, right?"

"Of course," Spencer says, because it's not like he and Brendon hate each other. He doesn't hate Brendon, anyway. He kind of wishes he did because it would maybe hurt less when he shows up at the engagement party and sees that Brendon's there with a date.

Ryan slings his arm over Spencer's shoulders and says, "How about we tell them that I finally saw the light and started liking dick and we're getting married in Iowa in the fall?"

And Spencer laughs and tells him he's an idiot and decides that he's going to do his best to politely avoid Brendon and his date, and if he can't avoid them, he's going to stay polite and be nice and not comment on the fact that Brendon's date has buck teeth.

He can't avoid Brendon or his date because Greta and Dallon are so happy that they want to share their happiness with their best friends, which means having all their best friends close all night, which means that Spencer ends up sitting on the couch between Greta and Brendon's date, whose name is Chaz.

Chaz is a virtuoso cellist, apparently, and he's witty and charming. He's obviously crazy about Brendon, and Spencer hates him so much he's seriously reconsidering the whole "getting married to Ryan in Iowa" thing just out of spite.

Towards the end of the night Spencer's a little drunk and he needs some air so he slips onto Greta and Dallon's back porch to hide, but Brendon's already there sneaking a cigarette.

Spencer takes the cigarette from his hand and says, "I couldn't handle it if you got cancer," and Brendon says, "Spence," and then they're kissing.

Kissing Brendon's just as easy as it's always been even though it hurts, even though it amplifies the ache in Spencer's chest even as he never wants to let go. He says, "I miss you."

Brendon burrows closer against him, presses his face to Spencer's hair and whispers, "Me, too."

They cling to each other just out of sight of their friends, out of sight of Brendon's date, and Spencer feels kind of bad for Chaz, but not bad enough to let go. They talk in stop-starts, sometimes running over each other's words, sometimes not saying anything.

Brendon says, "We can't," and Spencer says, "Why?"

Spencer says, "I'm sorry," and Brendon says, "Me, too," says, "I hate this, I hate not talking to you. I want, if we don't, if we can't be, I want to be your friend, Spencer. If we can't be more I want to be friends because I hate not having you in my life."

Spencer says, "I don't want to be your friend. I don't know if I could be just your friend. I want us to--"

"But it didn't work," says Brendon.

"So we try again," Spencer says.

"Just like that?" Brendon asks.

Spencer says, "We'll never know unless we try. I want to try."

And Brendon says, "I want that, too." He says, "I like your beard," and Spencer smiles.

So they try, and it works. It's rocky at first but they work at it and they make it work. And even when they're back together, even when things are good they still fight and there are still shitty decisions they have to make and problems to deal with, but whatever. They're in it together and in the end, they really do live (mostly) happily ever after.