fic: I Like My Mermaids Like I Like My Coffee (Cold and Bitter)
First of all, your__design asked me to make it known that the mermaid thing is entirely my fault. On a similar note, I want it known that I think it is entirely the fault of Spencer Smith’s hips, which are too amazing to belong to any human and, therefore, clearly belong to a mythical creature. So here is a little something in honor of Spencer's hips, the new music video (which, um, is possibly my favorite thing ever) and Valentine's Day. It is an all-purpose fanfic event! With mermaids!
I didn't think up that title by myself, don't get all excited about it. I read it somewhere on the internet. Maybe it was in porn, WHO KNOWS.
I don’t know why, but all my fics are titled like Pete Wentz songs. MAYBE I AM PETE WENTZ? You never know!
(Except I’m really, really not.)
Title: I Like My Mermaids Like I Like My Coffee (Cold and Bitter)
Author: tremblings
Pairing: Jon/Spencer
Rating: PG-13
POV: close third
Word Count: 8000
Summary: Spencer is a mermaid. (No, really.)
Disclaimer: Guys, I don’t want to be the one to disillusion you but mermaids aren’t real.
Author’s Notes: As always, thanks to your__design for the beta. You are the King Triton to my Sebastian and I bow before you and walk sideways.
"Oh my god," Brendon says. "He's part of our world!"
"This is why I didn't tell you," Spencer glares. "I knew you would do this."
"What did you pay to spend a day warm on the sand?" Brendon asks earnestly.
So, yeah, Jon can really understand why Spencer didn't tell Brendon, but what about him? Jon can admit he's a little lost for words right now, doesn't know exactly what to say, but at least he knows what not to say.
"Are all crabs Jamaican in real life?"
Like that? That was what not to say. Spencer stretches out a foot to where Brendon is lying on the floor and kicks him in the ribs. Brendon tries to roll away and Spencer kicks him again, lightly, in the arm. With his feet. His feet, which are not and have never in Jon's memory been fins.
Brendon seems to be thinking the same thing. "Are you sure you're a mermaid?" he asks Spencer eyeing him narrowly.
Spencer's glare becomes so intense that Brendon and Jon actually flinch away. "MerMAN," Spencer growls. "There's a difference."
"What does it matter when you're part fish?" Brendon mutters to Jon. Spencer overhears and kicks him again.
"He has to go back," Ryan says, and his voice sounds as hollow as the rest of him looks. Jon had almost forgotten he was even there, tight-lipped and rigid, sitting too close to Spencer's side.
"Go back where?" Brendon asks, looking between the two of them.
"It was - I only get ten years," Spencer says, and he seems calmer now, but Jon can see the way he leans into Ryan, and the rainbows reflected by the rhinestones on his hoodie are trembling on the carpet. Spencer is shaking.
"Are you dying?" Brendon asks quietly.
"No, Brendon, Jesus. I just have to go back. Home," Spencer adds, belatedly but firmly. He takes a deep breath and now Jon can hear him shaking, the rattling movement of air, focused like Spencer's already trying to remember it. "Ryan and I met when we were kids," Spencer says and he's said it hundreds of times before but it means something different now. "His family would come to the shore once a year and he found me. He taught me how to talk, played music for me, he. He was the best friend I ever had." Spencer's voice has been steadily shrinking. He turns to Ryan, who picks up the story just like they're in some interview and Spencer passed him the microphone.
"When things started getting really bad with my dad he came home with me." Jon thinks it's a credit to how well Spencer has taken care of Ryan that Ryan only swallows a little harder than normal after saying it.
"We can become human for ten years, max. Most of us try to spread it out, but." Spencer shuts his mouth again and stares at his feet.
"But I've met your family," Brendon points out. "And they're human."
"They adopted me," Spencer shrugs.
"Not to, like, be a bitch or anything," Brendon says, "but are we seriously supposed to believe this?" He's not quoting Disney anymore. He looks as scared as Jon feels.
"I guess so," Spencer says and shrugs again. His shoulder is pressed so hard against Ryan's that Jon is surprised the two of them haven't merged into one horribly still, terribly quiet person. They're scaring him.
Brendon is not easily convinced, it turns out. He glares at the two of them and says, his voice quivering maybe a little, "What the hell, guys. This isn't funny."
"It isn't a joke," Ryan snaps.
"Brendon," Spencer says, "Come here for a second, okay?" Spencer and Brendon disappear into the bathroom for what feels like hours, but is probably only fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes Jon spends facing off with a very pissy Ryan Ross, who glares at him as if challenging him to demand some kind of proof as well, or whatever it is that Brendon and Spencer are doing in there.
Frankly, Jon doesn't want proof. He's happy believing this is all some kind of bizarre prank that Spencer and Ryan get (like girl pants and circus themes and how to use eyeliner) that Jon will just never understand. All of that is pretty much shot to shit when Brendon and Spencer come back, Spencer looking upset and Brendon eyes huge in his face, his hands shaking. The look he gives Jon says enough; whatever happened in that bathroom was enough to convince Brendon, Jon's sure of it. Brendon's not this good an actor.
"When?" Jon asks when he can finally remember how to speak. "When do you have to..." He can't quite finish that question. It's too much to process.
Spencer looks grateful. He says, "September 2nd." As if they all didn’t know he adds, “My birthday.”
Everyone is quiet. Jon's thoughts progress like ice shifting and cracking in a glass, things falling into place with soft, sudden snaps. This is ridiculous, this can't be real. He thinks, hysterically, that yesterday he was wondering which pair of limited edition Nikes Spencer would like best for his birthday. Today he's wondering how he's going to say goodbye to one of his best friends.
No point getting the shoes, he thinks. In one month Spencer won't even have feet.
He wants to laugh. It has to be a joke. Is Punk'd still on? Is Ashton Kutcher going to leap out at them and laugh at him and Brendon for believing their drummer was actually a mermaid?
Merman, whatever.
Jon needs a drink. Really, really badly.
*
It's tense for a few days after that. Ryan and Spencer spend most of their time huddled protectively together, talking in whispers so low that Jon can't hear them, or else in some secret languages of touches far quieter even than that. Brendon mostly mopes quietly from room to room, looking at everyone with large, helpless eyes.
Spencer snapped his DVD of The Little Mermaid in half.
Jon mostly stays in his own room, listening to his iPod, being careful to skip all the songs about water, while he tries to imagine a world without Spencer Smith in it. It's surprisingly hard.
He can't even remember his life before Panic without footnoting Spencer's into it. When I was in 5o4, he thinks, Spencer was in high school. When I spent that summer at my grandma's in Milwaukee, Spencer was in Las Vegas learning how to be human.
On day three there's a knock at his door. Jon makes a noise, which Brendon takes as an invitation. He shuffles in looking tired and far older than Jon remembers him looking. Jon has a moment of panic where he wonders if he somehow fell asleep for a whole month. What if Spencer left and he never got to say goodbye?
"He's still kind of pissed at me, I think," Brendon says and Jon relaxes. He can pretend, for at least a minute, that Spencer is pissed because Brendon ate the last of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, not because he kept humming 'Poor Unfortunate Souls' under his breath. "I told him I was sorry," Brendon says, flopping onto Jon's bed, half on top of him. "I didn't mean to. I'm just, I'm trying to process this, you know? I can't help it that the only previous experience I have with mermaids is a Disney classic with catchy songs."
"Mermen," Jon corrects, but he lets Brendon wrap his arms around him and bury his face in Jon's shoulder.
"I don't know what else to do. I don't want him to go."
"He has to, Bren," Jon says, but he doesn't want Spencer to go either. All of him is aching, is screaming for Spencer to stay.
"He showed me his tail," Brendon says so quietly, his mouth so muffled by Jon's t-shirt that Jon thinks he's misheard. "Like, he's actually got one. It's real."
"How-"
"Spencer never swam, did you ever think that was weird?" Brendon says. "He always said he didn't want to mess up his hair but it's really because he turns into a mermaid. Merman. Whatever."
"What was it like?" Jon asks too quietly. Maybe Brendon didn't hear him. It's probably more likely that he's ignoring the question, that he doesn't know what to say.
"There has to be some kind of way he can stay, right?" Brendon mumbles. "We'll think of a way."
"Sure," Jon says. "Of course we will." He doesn't mean to sound placating, he wants to believe it, but he isn't sure Spencer even wants to stay.
Brendon doesn't seem to hold it against him, though. He squeezes Jon tighter and says, "Don't worry, Jon Walker. I won't let the cruel ocean take your Spencer Smith away."
"Not my Spencer Smith," Jon says with a peculiar empty ache in his stomach. "Our Spencer Smith."
"Our Spencer Smith," Brendon agrees.
Jon knows it's a bad idea, but he can't help trusting Brendon a little. It's not like they have any other kind of hope.
*
With three weeks to go, Jon finds Spencer out by the pool, lying in the grass with his sunglasses on.
“Hey.”
Spencer lifts his head and smiles at Jon a little nervously. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
Spencer shrugs.
“Where’s Ryan?”
“Writing.”
Jon nods. “Can I?” He gestures to the grass curling over Spencer’s elbow.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
Jon lies down next to him, the two of them spread out on their backs, eyes closed against the sun.
After awhile Spencer asks, “Are you freaked out?”
“A little,” Jon admits. “I mean it’s kind of surreal, you know? And you’re going.”
“Yeah,” Spencer agrees, but doesn’t say anything else.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
Spencer looks guilty. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it would go this far. It was never supposed to get this complicated. And there never really was a good time to say something so… crazy.” Jon snorts softly in agreement. “I’m sorry,” Spencer says. “I just didn’t want to ruin things.”
“It’s okay,” Jon says. “You being a mermaid - merman - isn’t that big a deal. You could have been a dragon and then we’d have some real problems. We would have saved money on pyrotechnics though.”
Spencer laughs and relaxes into the grass, almost like he’s melting into it. “At least there’s that,” he says.
“What was it like?” Jon asks. Spencer is quiet. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay,” Jon adds quickly, “I just was-”
“I just don’t really remember, that’s all,” Spencer says. “I know it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago, but it’s just hard to remember. It’s like I forgot.”
Jon’s gut clenches and his stomach rises to his throat, like he took a shot too fast. “Will you forget us when you go back?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “I hope not.” He turns his head to face Jon and takes off his glasses. “This, you, all of you, have meant a lot to me,” he says, biting his lip a little, like when he’s saying something he really means, something that makes him feel vulnerable. “I don’t want to forget you.”
“You’ve meant a lot to us too,” Jon says. “To me.” He turns to look at Spencer, his expression as serious as he can make it. “I don’t put on eyeliner for just any boy, Spencer Smith.”
Spencer laughs and rolls onto his back again. He closes his eyes, turning his face up to the sun. Jon rolls onto his side and curls in on himself to watch. Spencer looks comfortable, happy. Jon can't believe he doesn't belong here.
"You don't want to leave, do you?" he asks. His voice sounds young, even to his own ears.
Spencer's smile straightens out and he shrugs. He puts on his ridiculously over-sized sunglasses and immediately becomes expressionless. "I came here for Ryan. He doesn't really need me anymore."
"You're his best friend, of course he needs you."
"Not in the same way," Spencer clarifies. "Not really."
Jon says, "I guess not" and rolls onto his back. What he wants to say is "but I need you," like it would make some kind of difference.
*
Spencer has been taking a lot of walks alone lately. He doesn’t even let Ryan come with him. Jon thinks he’s probably saying goodbye to the trees, the dirt, the grass - all the things the surface has to offer. Jon wishes he could take pictures Spencer could take with him.
While Spencer is out the rest of them have what none of them want to admit are band meetings. It isn’t until the fourth or fifth meeting that Brendon finally says, “Guys, I don’t want to be a dick, but what about the band?”
Neither of them accuses him of being insensitive, probably, Jon guesses, because they’ve been thinking about it too.
Ryan speaks first. “I don’t want to do this without Spencer.”
“I don’t either,” Jon says, and is surprised to discover that it’s true. He’s been in other bands with other friends. Line-ups have always been interchangeable. But Panic can’t exist without Spencer, it just can’t. It’d be like if they lost Ryan or Brendon. Jon wonders if they’d do the same for him and thinks, immediately, that they probably would. It makes him feel warm for a moment, in spite of everything. This is what a band is supposed to be, he thinks. It’s stupid that it has to be ruined just because Spencer isn’t exactly human.
“Okay,” Brendon says, sounding shell-shocked but sure. “So what do we do?”
“We deal with it later,” Jon says firmly. These final weeks should be about Spencer. He glances at Ryan, who is nodding silently, and knows that he agrees. They’ll deal with it later.
When they tell Spencer he, predictably, doesn’t want to deal with it later.
“This is so stupid,” he says. “You don’t have to quit the band just because I won’t be there. We replaced Brent.”
“You’re not Brent,” Ryan shrugs. “We already decided.”
“Well then what are you going to tell everyone?” Spencer says, changing tactics. “You broke up because your drummer is a mythical creature?”
“We’ll tell them we broke up because of irreconcilable differences. We just won’t tell them the differences were that you’re a different species,” Jon says and smiles.
Spencer laughs; it sounds close to a sob but it still sounds like he means it. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, quietly. “You all really wanted this. Jon, you waited forever to get this far-”
“We don’t want to do it without you,” Jon says. “Doesn’t matter how far we get, it won’t be worth it if you’re not there with us.”
“So what are you going to do?” Spencer demands. “Get day jobs?”
“Hell no,” Brendon scoffs. “We’re rich and famous rock stars. We’re all going to marry groupies and get coke habits.”
“I plan to break out of rehab and marry an Olsen twin for twenty-four hours,” Jon says calmly. “Or maybe I’ll have a scandalous gay affair with Matt Bellamy. Or become a scientologist. I have a lot of options.”
“You guys are ridiculous,” Spencer says, but Jon can tell he means ‘thank you.’
*
With two weeks left, Jon finally gives up even the hope of sleep and wanders out to the pool, snagging a Diet Coke on his way through the kitchen. He would have preferred a beer, but Ryan's not in any kind of mood to have alcohol in the cabin.
Jon kicks off his flip flops and rolls up the cuffs of his jeans so he can sink his feet into the water. It feels enclosed, everywhere. He can't believe Spencer lived like this, is going to spend the rest of his life like this. It's probably different for him, but Jon can't imagine it no matter how hard he tries.
As if Jon wished him there, Spencer comes out onto the patio, pulling a hoodie on as he approaches. His bare feet are making soft flat noises against the brick. Jon tries to memorize the sound.
"Jon, what are you doing out here?"
"Couldn't sleep," Jon shrugs. "You?"
"I saw the light on."
"I didn't wake you up, did I?"
"No. I haven't really been sleeping much lately anyway." Spencer makes a face. "I probably look like crap."
"You don't," Jon says. Spencer smiles at him. "Can I see it?" Jon blurts out.
"What?" Spencer's expression is closed off again. He's been doing that a lot lately and it makes Jon nervous, but he has to know.
"You know," he says. "Your tail."
"Jon..."
"I just want to know what it's like," Jon says quickly. "So I can picture you. After you go." Jon has always been a very visual person and he knows it'll drive him crazy if he can't imagine Spencer the way he's going to be.
"Okay," Spencer says finally, still not giving Jon any clues as to what he might be thinking. He takes off his hoodie and his t-shirt, his jeans and his boxers. When he steps into the pool it's slow and careful and Jon remembers that, apart from when he showed Brendon, Spencer probably hasn't done this in awhile. "It takes a minute," Spencer says into the heavy silence.
One minute passes, then two, three, five, maybe ten. Neither of them speak or move. Jon never looks away from Spencer, standing naked and shoulder-deep in the water, looking self-conscious. Then Jon blinks and Spencer isn't standing anymore. His chest is the same, but where his legs should be there's... It's undeniably a fish tail, complete with scales and ending in a flourish, like one of those mean fish you can only have one of, Jon thinks. Those beta fish. The scales seem to change color in the underwater light. It's beautiful, in a way. It's Spencer, Jon realizes. This is really Spencer.
"Spence," Jon says, and his voice might crack a little, just on the first E.
Spencer moves like he's going to get out of the water, but Jon slides off the edge and into the pool, clothes and all. He pushes his way through the heavy water to pull Spencer against him.
Spencer's tail doesn't stop moving but the rest of him does, going tense in Jon's arms. The water displaced by Spencer's tail flows around Jon's legs and Spencer's scales brush up against his calves, against his toes. He jerks his legs away.
"You tickle," he explains and buries his face in Spencer's bare, wet neck.
"You itch," Spencer replies but he moves his hands, finally, one tentatively brushing Jon's arm, the other fisting firmly in his wet t-shirt. Jon dips one hand into the water and lightly runs his fingers over Spencer's hip, the place where skin becomes scales. Spencer makes a sharp sound. "You're still dressed," Spencer says. "You're gonna get sick. You need to dry off."
Jon nods in agreement and presses a tiny, friendly kiss to the corner of Spencer's mouth. He tastes like chlorine, salt and peppermint.
They swim to the edge and Jon pulls himself out after Spencer. For the briefest moment he sees Spencer out of water, sitting on the edge of the pool with his tail fanning out over the surface. And then his legs are back and he's standing, stamping his feet and going for his jeans.
Spencer keeps his back to Jon as he gets dressed. "Pins and needles," he explains. "They come back kind of numb."
Jon just nods and follows Spencer back into the cabin, politely saying nothing about the fact that both of them are hard.
*
"So," Jon says, two days later. He feels uncomfortable asking, but he's sick of just wondering so he says, "what's going on downstairs? Is it all sushi?"
Spencer snorts Diet Coke out of his nose. "Downstairs?" he repeats.
Brendon looks up from his video game with interest. Ryan's gaze shoots up to the ceiling where he stares purposefully, his eyes going out of focus; he's probably trying to ignore the fact that this conversation is happening. Jon kind of wants to join Ryan in staring at the Ceiling of Avoidance, but he really just has to know.
"You know," Jon says, and waves a hand in the vague direction of Spencer's crotch.
"You've seen it," Spencer says, crossing his legs and turning pink.
"I meant, you know, underwater."
"All sushi," Spencer says tightly and flees the room.
"Dude." When Jon turns to look at him, Brendon's eyes are wide. "That's a fucking tragedy."
Jon privately agrees.
*
"I have a plan," Brendon announces for about the hundredth time in two weeks. He probably does have one, but Jon doesn't feel very optimistic about it, given that previous plans have included buying a houseboat and building a moat around the cabin.
This one is, if possible, even worse.
"One of us," he says confidently, "needs to fall in love with Spencer."
Ryan and Jon stare at him.
"It always works in the movies," Brendon insists.
"This isn't a movie, Brendon," Jon points out.
"Yeah, because drummers turn out to be mermaids all the time," Brendon says. Jon hates to admit it, but that's kind of a good point.
"It's worth a try," Ryan says thoughtfully. He looks pointedly at Jon, who stares blankly back.
"Thank you," Brendon sighs. "Okay, so, Ryan-"
"Wait, what?" Ryan says. "Why me?"
"You're the obvious choice," Brendon explains, "since you're the one who Prince Eric'd him up here in the first place."
"If I was going to fall in love with him don't you think I'd have done it already?"
"Maybe you're just romantically retarded," Brendon argues.
"Maybe I'm just straight," Ryan says. "Make Jon do it."
"Please," Brendon scoffs. "Jon 'Real Boy' Walker?"
"Jon?" asks Ryan, ignoring Brendon.
"I don't," Jon says, but he doesn't know how to finish that sentence. He thinks of Spencer's face in the sun, of kissing a microscopic portion of his cold, wet mouth.
"I told you," Brendon says to Ryan.
"Well, then why don't you do it?" Ryan snaps.
"Fine," Brendon says. "I will," and he disappears, calling loudly for Spencer.
Jon rolls his eyes and turns to tell Ryan that this is Brendon's worst idea ever but Ryan is still looking at him with that mystifying expression, like he wants something from Jon but isn't sure how to ask for it, like he doesn’t even think he should need to. Jon doesn't know why, but it makes him feel guilty.
*
A few days later, Ryan accosts Jon over breakfast.
“So, Spencer,” he says for no apparent reason.
Jon frowns at Ryan over his poptarts. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been acting kind of differently with him lately, right?” He’s looking at Jon like he knows everything Jon has every thought or felt. Jon tries hard not to think about kissing Spencer in the pool, which is dumb, because it was a friendly kiss and Ryan can’t read minds anyway.
“He’s a mermaid. Merman,” Jon corrects himself immediately. “It kind of shocked me at first, I guess.”
“Would you treat Brendon any differently if he was a unicorn?” Ryan demands.
It’s clearly a trick question. “Um, he isn’t, is he?” Jon is only half-joking.
“No,” Ryan says, “this is purely hypothetical.”
“Well, I don’t know, is Brendon the Unicorn going to some magical candyland in the clouds where I’ll never see him again?”
“We’ll see Spencer,” Ryan says. “He’ll just be a little different.”
“A little?” Jon repeats.
Ryan ignores him and continues, saying, “You’ve been asking a lot of questions about his dick lately…”
“Oh my god, Ryan, I was curious!” Jon says. “I’m not gay or anything.”
“I’m just saying,” Ryan says, shrugging. He stands and stretches, still sounding completely nonchalant when he says, “Spencer is my best friend and I don’t want to have to put on a wet suit every time I want to go see him. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Brendon’s latest idea is our best shot.”
“I didn’t think the one we were all took scuba lessons was too bad,” Jon says.
“And,” Ryan says, narrowing his eyes at Jon, “I think Brendon has about as much of a chance of falling in love with Spencer as he does with a cactus, so it’s up to you.” Ryan’s expression is so blank it’s threatening. “I don’t want to lose my best friend, Jon Walker and I am not above locking the two of you in a room together naked if it means he’ll stay.”
“Um,” Jon says.
“Think about it,” says Ryan and, just as he leaves, he leans back into the kitchen and says, “By the way, I know you kissed him in the pool, you pervert.”
Jon feels himself go red and Ryan laughs as he leaves.
*
“Spencer is spurning my advances,” Brendon whines, flopping across Jon on the couch. Jon has a moment of stupid satisfaction. He shouldn’t be so pleased; ridiculous as it is, Brendon’s plan is the only one they’ve got. “He doesn’t appreciate my sacrifice,” Brendon continues. “I’m seducing him for the good of the band, you’d think he’d be grateful.”
Jon shrugs and pats Brendon sympathetically not taking his eyes away from VH1’s countdown of the hundred greatest one hit wonders.
“Jon, I’m failing to save Spencer from a lifetime of Jamaican crabs and sea witches and all you care about is the theme from Friends.”
Jon shrugs again. Truthfully, if Spencer isn’t around he doesn’t particularly want to do anything that will let him do too much thinking. His thoughts have been kind of weird lately. He attributes that to the complexly fucked up fairy tale this band has become.
‘I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)’ comes on and Jon mutes the TV because walking reminds him too much of Spencer. He turns to look at Brendon. “What do you want me to do?” He’s getting frustrated. Ryan and Brendon keep looking at him like he’s supposed to be fixing everything and Spencer won’t look at him at all.
“Can you talk me up to him?” Brendon suggests.
“This isn’t high school, Brendon.”
Brendon huffs and pouts at the TV. Jon turns the sound back up. ‘I Touch Myself’ is on. For some stupid reason that makes him think of Spencer again. He turns off the TV.
“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be chasing after Spence?”
“Ryan Ross stole him from me. I’m here to do research.” He proudly holds up a copy of Splash.
Huh, Jon thinks. Spencer is totally a hotter mermaid than Daryl Hannah. And then he thinks, Oh crap. Ryan Ross has clearly brainwashed him.
“Good luck with that,” he says to Brendon and stands.
“You’re not staying?” Brendon has produced a notebook and a bubblegum scented pencil from nowhere. He’s seriously going to take notes.
Jon shakes his head. He needs to find Spencer. To warn him, or something. Whatever.
He tries Ryan’s room first, but Ryan’s alone.
“Oh, uh. Hey,” Jon says.
Ryan gives him another Look. He’s been Looking at him like that for days, like Jon is one of those optical illusions with some hidden picture in it. It’s like he knows Jon’s hiding something, which is stupid, because Jon isn’t hiding anything, he’s the most open person ever, not like Ryan, who has no fucking facial expressions.
“Spencer isn’t here,” Ryan says. “He’s out walking again.”
“Spencer?” Jon asks innocently. “Is Spencer my only friend in this band? Can’t I come say hello to my good buddy Ryan Ross?”
“Not if you kiss all your good buddies in pools,” Ryan smirks and shuts the door in Jon’s face.
“It was a friendly kiss!” Jon tells the door. “Between friends! You kiss Brendon all the time!”
“Not alone in the middle of the night!” Ryan calls.
“This is all your fault,” Jon grumbles. “Bringing mermaids to Las Vegas and starting bands with them. Asshole.”
“He took the trail to the lake about an hour ago,” Ryan says. “You can probably catch him on his way back.”
Jon doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but he doesn’t want to stay inside and compare Spencer to Daryl Hannah either, so he compromises, parking himself on the back step to wait.
To kill time he calls his mom and apologizes for not calling her as often as usual. “I think the band’s gonna break up,” he tells her.
“Oh honey,” she says. “You’ll find a new band.”
“It’s not that,” Jon insists. “It’s just that things are changing. Spencer,” he admits, “Spencer is changing.”
“People change, Jon.”
“Not like this,” Jon laughs.
“He’s a nice boy,” Jon’s mom says. “Don’t write him off, alright? You’ll work things out. Sometimes when people change you have to change with them.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jon says. She has no idea what he means but Jon feels better anyway. Moms seriously have magical powers. He sees Spencer coming and says, “I gotta go.”
“Tell the boys I say hello,” she says, “and take care of yourself.”
“I will. Bye, Mom.” He hangs up as Spencer approaches the steps. “Hey,” Jon says. “Wanna sit with me?” When Spencer hesitates he adds, “It’s me or another forty-five minutes of Splash. Brendon’s taking notes,” he warns.
Spencer makes a face and settles down next to Jon. “Brendon is being weird." Spencer pauses, then amends, "I mean, weirder than usual.”
“Yeah?” Jon says, trying for neutrality.
Spencer eyes him narrowly. “Is he…” Spencer looks uncomfortable and Jon caves.
“Wooing you? Yes.”
Spencer sighs dramatically. “It’s the merman thing, isn’t it? It gives me animal magnetism. It makes me very alluring.”
“Do fish even have animal magnetism?” Jon snorts.
Spencer bumps him with his shoulder. “Yes,” he says firmly. “Fish are wildly sexy.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Jon says. They sit in silence for a minute.
Jon wonders if he should say something about that kiss, tell Spencer he’s sorry, that Jon was just trying to make him feel better, that it didn’t mean anything weird, he’s not Brendon, but for some reason he can’t make himself say it. If he’s completely honest with himself, Jon will admit that he’s not quite sure why he did it in the first place. He doesn’t know how to excuse it, or even if he should. Instead he says, “Do you wanna get out of here? We can go somewhere, anywhere you want.”
Jon doesn’t have to say that Spencer only has one week left. They both are keenly aware of it.
Spencer considers. “Okay,” he says. “I want Taco Bell.”
Jon laughs. “You have seven days left above sea level and you want to spend them eating Taco Bell?”
“I’m being considerate,” Spencer says. “It was either tacos or shoe shopping.”
“I’ll take the tacos,” Jon says gratefully, and thinks the whole mermaid thing might explain Spencer’s fascination with footwear.
*
Jon and Spencer spend most of the evening eating burritos on the hood of Jon’s car, parked by the side of the road overlooking the lights below. They’re quiet, but for once it’s a comfortable quiet. Jon thinks about asking Spencer what he’ll be eating next week, but he doesn’t want to ruin it; Spencer looks so happy, shoving burritos in his mouth. Jon can almost believe the two of them are just taking a break from Ryan and Brendon, letting them work out their creative differences, and when they’re done eating they’ll go back to the cabin and write an amazing song and none of Ryan’s lyrics will be about the cruelty of the sea.
But Spencer, as usual, has to be difficult.
“The worst part about this is,” he says, apropos of nothing, “that there are all these things I always meant to say or do, but now it’s just selfish and stupid to do them so I really can’t. It sucks.”
“Like what?” Jon asks, leaning back against the windshield.
Spencer looks thoughtful for a moment. Jon wonders if the question was a little too personal. “I always wanted to tell Brendon that I was the one who spilled barbeque sauce on his favorite purple hoodie,” he says seriously.
Jon laughs. “I guess it wouldn’t be fair, since he’d have to forgive you now.”
“Before he would have squirted mustard all over my favorite shoes,” Spencer agrees. “And it would have escalated from there.” He rolls his eyes, but Jon can tell he’s missing it already.
“I guess we haven’t been making these weeks very fun for you,” Jon says apologetically. “What with Brendon trying to stick his tongue down your throat and Ryan writing emo lyrics and me-”
“And you asking awkward personal questions and being a general tool?” Spencer supplies, his eyes opened wide and innocent.
Jon laughs. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
“Jon, you asked me about my fish parts. My intimate fish parts.”
“How many chances was I going to get to find out about the reproductive organs of merpeople?” Jon demands. “I was asking for science. I stand by my question.”
Spencer laughs and leans back next to Jon. “At least you’ll never be able to eat sushi again. I guess that’s revenge enough for me.”
“Shit, I hadn’t thought of that,” Jon says. Wow. He really won’t be able to eat sushi ever again. “I guess I should have thought that through, huh?”
Spencer looks smug. “Well, I guess you could try to keep eating it anyway, and just ignore that fact that you’ll clearly be thinking about my dick when you do.” It’s getting dark out, but Jon can still see Spencer blush a little, which is strange, because all of them have always made inappropriate comments about their own genitals or the genitals of others without being embarrassed.
Jon decides Spencer is just self-conscious about his aquatic equipment so he leers and says, “Maybe I’ll go on a strictly sushi diet so I’ll be thinking about it all the time.”
Spencer laughs, but it doesn’t sound right. Jon frowns and begins to wonder. “Let’s go. Ryan and Brendon are probably freaking out.”
“Okay,” Jon says.
Later, when they’re stopped at a traffic light, Jon clears his throat and says, “Spencer.” Spencer’s face is red out of the corner of his eyes, bathed in the break lights and stop lights. “Spencer, there’s nothing you wanted to tell me, is there?”
Spencer’s face is blank. He’s been spending too much time with Ryan. Jon thinks Spencer might make a joke, say something about how Jon’s prized possessions are safe because Spencer never borrowed his flip flops, but eventually he looks straight ahead and says, “Nothing that’s worth saying now.”
“Spence,” Jon says.
“It’s not important,” Spencer says firmly. “Hey, do you want to get ice cream?” he asks, voice changing completely to something bright and cheerful, something from an entirely different conversation. Jon takes the hint and doesn’t say anything else about regrets as he makes a left to Coldstone.
*
Brendon proposes to Spencer with five days to go. He goes down on one knee and everything, holding out a tiny little plastic ring he probably bought at a grocery store from a vending machine. Jon thinks it would barely fit halfway down Spencer’s pinky. He doesn’t blame Spencer for laughing.
“It’s not like a green card, Brendon,” he explains.
“Maybe it isn’t about that,” Brendon says, looking decidedly shifty. “Maybe I’m just in love with you. Did you ever think of that?”
“Brendon, you know I love you, bit I’m really, really not in love with you. Thanks for trying, though.”
“Maybe we should just give it a shot?” Brendon says hopefully. “Just in case we can fool the ocean?”
“You can’t fool a body of water,” Spencer says.
“Well, do you want to just make out a bit and see what happens?”
“Brendon, it’s not going to happen.” Brendon looks crushed. “Do you want to watch Splash again?” Spencer asks kindly.
“You could at least try,” Brendon snaps and storms out of the room, leaving Jon and Spencer awash in his awkward wake.
Spencer frowns and unpauses their interrupted Guitar Hero match like nothing ever happened. He waits a song and a half before he says, “He couldn’t seriously have thought that was going to work.” He looks guilty and angry. Jon doesn’t want him to ever look like that, sad and torn and regretful.
“It never would have worked,” he agrees. “You’d make a terrible wife. And you’re not very loveable anyway.”
Spencer laughs. “I thought you agreed my fish parts were sexy?”
“I was lying,” Jon says solemnly. “You repulse me. Back to the lagoon with you, creature.”
“You suck,” Spencer says and makes a face. He pauses. “It never would have worked,” he says again.
Jon nods. “Brendon could never make enough money to keep you in the lifestyle to which you have become accustomed. Now, Ryan on the other hand-”
“Ew,” Spencer laughs. “Ew, ew. That can stop right there, thanks.”
“Well,” Jon says, “I guess that just leaves me. What do you say, Spence? Will you consider marrying me as an alternative to life below sea level?” He waggles his eyebrows and gives Spencer a cocky grin. He doesn’t know why, but he’s a little too interested in Spencer’s reply.
Spencer just smiles at him, small and a little sad. “Too bad for you, Jon Walker,” he says, “I know you’re not the marrying kind.” He beats Jon at Guitar Hero. Again. “Rematch?”
*
Spencer has less than forty-eight hours to be human.
The four of them are all squished around a couch, watching Moulin Rouge. Jon has been up for the past two days. He thinks for Ryan it might be longer. He just can't shut off his mind long enough to fall asleep, and even if he could he wouldn't want to. Jon wants to get the most out of the few hours of Spencer he has left.
Right now Spencer is pressed tight against his side. If he tilts his head slightly his nose is filled with the smell of Spencer's shampoo, his deodorant, his skin. The tips of Spencer's hair just barely graze Jon's ear.
Ryan is on Spencer's other side, close enough to have been welded to him. Brendon is on the floor, back pressed against Spencer's legs. It's like they think if they surround him completely enough nothing can ever take him away.
Jon can't focus on the movie, but he's seen it enough to fake it. Instead he watched the play of light across Spencer's face, the way the freckles are illuminated on the bridge of his nose.
He's beautiful, Jon realizes. He's never really thought about it before, but it's true. Spencer's probably the most beautiful person he knows. But he's also one of Jon's best friends. He means a lot, more than Jon ever really appreciated. Jon hates that he's realizing all of this now; it means that he can't trust it, because it's all drifting towards him on a current of 'now now before it's too late'.
He leans his head closer to Spencer's, nose against his ear and tries to untangle how he feels about that. The heat of Spencer's skin soaks into him but that's just physics. It's harder to breathe, but that's just because of the way the air can barely get to his lungs around Spencer's skin.
"Jon?" Spencer asks quietly.
"It's okay," Jon replies, just as quietly. "It's all good," he says. It isn't. His stomach is twisting in on itself and he's breathing nothing but Spencer's smell. He feels lightheaded and queasy. He pulls away.
Spencer puts a tentative arm around Jon's shoulders. "It is," he agrees. He sounds reassuring, but his eyes are roving all over Jon's face. He wouldn't look so desperate if he really meant it.
Jon turns back to the movie and thinks Christian was lucky. He didn't know he was going to lose Satine, he didn't have to count every second like Jon does.
And then he remembers that he's not in love with Spencer, so it isn't the same at all.
He's grateful when Brendon quietly asks if they can turn off the movie before Satine dies.
*
They all go out to the shore with Spencer.
It's a long, quiet drive. It's strange not to hear Brendon belting out Usher songs, not to dodge whatever Spencer is throwing at him, not to be drawing mustaches on Ryan’s face when he falls asleep.
It’s nearly sunset when they reach the shore. They all trudge out to the surf, not saying anything. Jon feels like he’s dreaming. He feels heavy and disembodied at the same time. He keeps sneaking looks at Spencer. Spencer is looking at the sand, his expression drawn.
Their little procession ends where the waves die out into sand. They all stand in silence. Ryan has his arms crossed and isn’t looking at anyone. Brendon is making strange, contorted faces; Jon can tell he’s trying not to cry. Jon shoves his hands in his pockets and kicks at the sand a little. He feels tired and jumpy at the same time, hyperaware of how slow everything is.
“Well,” Spencer says finally. His voice is strange, a little too high and uncontrolled to really be his voice.
“Spencer,” Ryan says. He actually looks afraid. Jon has never seen him this expressive before. He wants to laugh; he realizes he might be hysterical. Brendon is pale and keeps blinking sharply and looking away. Jon doesn’t even want to know what he looks like right now.
“Don’t say anything,” Spencer says quickly. “Just. It’ll only, I don’t know. Just don’t.”
“We love you, Spence,” Brendon says anyway, and Spencer makes a pained expression. Jon wants to laugh again. He’s very clearly hysterical.
“Thank you,” Spencer says quietly. “I love you guys too.”
This is ridiculous, Jon thinks. They’re all gathered here to throw Spencer back into the ocean like he’s a fish too small to keep. He hates this. Mermaid rules are so freaking stupid.
Spencer hugs Brendon first and Brendon clings to him. If he makes a few undignified sounds into Spencer’s shoulder no one mentions it.
Jon is surprised when Spencer turns to Ryan next; he expected Spencer to save him for last. Ryan throws himself on Spencer and Jon can hear them whispering to each other just under the sound of the waves crashing. He can’t tell, but he thinks the tide is coming in. The water looks like it’s coming closer and closer every second. Next to him, Brendon is wiping his eyes and sniffling. He looks like he’s about eight years old when he cries, and Jon realizes he’s never really seen Brendon cry before. Sure, when Marissa died he got a little teary but this is different. Jon has never seen him look like this before.
When Ryan and Spencer finally pull apart, Ryan immediately goes to Brendon and rubs his shoulder. Brendon sniffles again, louder and hugs Ryan. Ryan gives Jon another one of his Looks over Brendon’s shoulder. Jon doesn’t really know what to do with it.
“Jon,” Spencer says and Jon hugs him, harder than he’s ever hugged anyone but his mom. Spencer’s fingers are pressing into his shoulders and Jon hopes they leave bruises. “Jon,” Spencer says again and Jon pulls back to look at him. Spencer just smiles at him, a little sadly, then kisses him, feather-light, on the corner of his mouth, just where Jon kissed him in the pool.
Jon really doesn’t know what to do with that.
Brendon, slightly mucousy and Ryan, with his makeup smudging, close in around Spencer. The four of them huddle there together on the beach with the sun sinking into the water behind them. Jon thinks they must look like shipwreck refugees, ragged and desperate and lost.
It’s a long time (not long enough) before Spencer says, “I have to go,” and longer still before they all make themselves release him. Ryan is the last one to step away.
Spencer wades out into the water alone. He keeps his clothes on this time, like he doesn’t want to admit he won’t need them where he’s going. Jon wonders what they’re going to do with all of his shoes.
A minute passes. Two.
Jon feels the blood rushing to his head as every pulsing of his heart takes him closer to a world without Spencer. He can’t breathe. He thinks he might be crying.
“Jon?” Brendon asks, nervous.
“Jon,” Ryan says, knowing.
Fuck, Jon thinks, and he charges out into the surf.
“Spence,” he chokes out. “Spencer.”
Spencer turns. The sun is just an orange-gold sliver behind him. “Jon? What-”
“Spencer, I love you, okay? I'm in love with you, so you can’t go.” He half falls forward, grabbing Spencer’s shoulders to steady himself. “Spencer,” he says, “Spence,” and he kisses him, hard, just in case Brendon is wrong and this is the last chance he has.
The sun sets behind Spencer’s shoulders, the orange afterglow lighting the water’s surface on fire. Spencer buckles in Jon’s arms and Jon panics, gripping him tight enough to bruise.
“Spencer,” he says again and his voice catches in his throat. He’s definitely crying now.
“It’s okay,” Spencer says against his mouth. “I just, I got lightheaded for a minute, I’m not-”
Just to be extra sure, Jon lifts Spencer up, feeling for scales. Spencer wraps his legs - his human legs! - around Jon’s waist and kisses him again. Jon can hear Brendon shouting from the shore, can taste salt between their mouths from the sea. His clothes are wet and uncomfortable, but he doesn’t care. He runs his hands along Spencer’s thighs to reassure himself of their continued existence and just because it makes Spencer shiver.
They pull apart when Jon realizes they’re both shaking from cold; the sun is down and the water wasn’t very warm to begin with.
Jon grins at Spencer. “Spence,” he says again. He can’t seem to say it enough.
Spencer just smiles at him and says, “Hi.” Jon laughs.
He keeps a firm grip on Spencer’s hand as they trudge back to the shore. He can’t make himself stop touching Spencer.
“Cutting it kind of close, weren’t you?” Ryan asks smugly. He appears to be holding Brendon back by the collar.
He releases him as Jon and Spencer reach the surf and Brendon charges, pouncing Spencer delightedly. Then he jumps on Jon and says, “Jon Walker, you made Spencer a real boy! With your tongue! I love you.”
Jon just laughs and Spencer’s hand tightens on his own. Jon grins at him. How was he so stupid all these years?
Ryan, the smug bastard, says, “So what happened to not being gay, Jon?”
“I’m still not gay,” Jon says. “I don’t like dudes. I just like mermen.”
Spencer laughs and beams at them all and wiggles his toes in the sand, like he’s growing roots that will keep him here forever.
Or at least that’s what Jon likes to think.
I didn't think up that title by myself, don't get all excited about it. I read it somewhere on the internet. Maybe it was in porn, WHO KNOWS.
I don’t know why, but all my fics are titled like Pete Wentz songs. MAYBE I AM PETE WENTZ? You never know!
(Except I’m really, really not.)
Title: I Like My Mermaids Like I Like My Coffee (Cold and Bitter)
Author: tremblings
Pairing: Jon/Spencer
Rating: PG-13
POV: close third
Word Count: 8000
Summary: Spencer is a mermaid. (No, really.)
Disclaimer: Guys, I don’t want to be the one to disillusion you but mermaids aren’t real.
Author’s Notes: As always, thanks to your__design for the beta. You are the King Triton to my Sebastian and I bow before you and walk sideways.
"Oh my god," Brendon says. "He's part of our world!"
"This is why I didn't tell you," Spencer glares. "I knew you would do this."
"What did you pay to spend a day warm on the sand?" Brendon asks earnestly.
So, yeah, Jon can really understand why Spencer didn't tell Brendon, but what about him? Jon can admit he's a little lost for words right now, doesn't know exactly what to say, but at least he knows what not to say.
"Are all crabs Jamaican in real life?"
Like that? That was what not to say. Spencer stretches out a foot to where Brendon is lying on the floor and kicks him in the ribs. Brendon tries to roll away and Spencer kicks him again, lightly, in the arm. With his feet. His feet, which are not and have never in Jon's memory been fins.
Brendon seems to be thinking the same thing. "Are you sure you're a mermaid?" he asks Spencer eyeing him narrowly.
Spencer's glare becomes so intense that Brendon and Jon actually flinch away. "MerMAN," Spencer growls. "There's a difference."
"What does it matter when you're part fish?" Brendon mutters to Jon. Spencer overhears and kicks him again.
"He has to go back," Ryan says, and his voice sounds as hollow as the rest of him looks. Jon had almost forgotten he was even there, tight-lipped and rigid, sitting too close to Spencer's side.
"Go back where?" Brendon asks, looking between the two of them.
"It was - I only get ten years," Spencer says, and he seems calmer now, but Jon can see the way he leans into Ryan, and the rainbows reflected by the rhinestones on his hoodie are trembling on the carpet. Spencer is shaking.
"Are you dying?" Brendon asks quietly.
"No, Brendon, Jesus. I just have to go back. Home," Spencer adds, belatedly but firmly. He takes a deep breath and now Jon can hear him shaking, the rattling movement of air, focused like Spencer's already trying to remember it. "Ryan and I met when we were kids," Spencer says and he's said it hundreds of times before but it means something different now. "His family would come to the shore once a year and he found me. He taught me how to talk, played music for me, he. He was the best friend I ever had." Spencer's voice has been steadily shrinking. He turns to Ryan, who picks up the story just like they're in some interview and Spencer passed him the microphone.
"When things started getting really bad with my dad he came home with me." Jon thinks it's a credit to how well Spencer has taken care of Ryan that Ryan only swallows a little harder than normal after saying it.
"We can become human for ten years, max. Most of us try to spread it out, but." Spencer shuts his mouth again and stares at his feet.
"But I've met your family," Brendon points out. "And they're human."
"They adopted me," Spencer shrugs.
"Not to, like, be a bitch or anything," Brendon says, "but are we seriously supposed to believe this?" He's not quoting Disney anymore. He looks as scared as Jon feels.
"I guess so," Spencer says and shrugs again. His shoulder is pressed so hard against Ryan's that Jon is surprised the two of them haven't merged into one horribly still, terribly quiet person. They're scaring him.
Brendon is not easily convinced, it turns out. He glares at the two of them and says, his voice quivering maybe a little, "What the hell, guys. This isn't funny."
"It isn't a joke," Ryan snaps.
"Brendon," Spencer says, "Come here for a second, okay?" Spencer and Brendon disappear into the bathroom for what feels like hours, but is probably only fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes Jon spends facing off with a very pissy Ryan Ross, who glares at him as if challenging him to demand some kind of proof as well, or whatever it is that Brendon and Spencer are doing in there.
Frankly, Jon doesn't want proof. He's happy believing this is all some kind of bizarre prank that Spencer and Ryan get (like girl pants and circus themes and how to use eyeliner) that Jon will just never understand. All of that is pretty much shot to shit when Brendon and Spencer come back, Spencer looking upset and Brendon eyes huge in his face, his hands shaking. The look he gives Jon says enough; whatever happened in that bathroom was enough to convince Brendon, Jon's sure of it. Brendon's not this good an actor.
"When?" Jon asks when he can finally remember how to speak. "When do you have to..." He can't quite finish that question. It's too much to process.
Spencer looks grateful. He says, "September 2nd." As if they all didn’t know he adds, “My birthday.”
Everyone is quiet. Jon's thoughts progress like ice shifting and cracking in a glass, things falling into place with soft, sudden snaps. This is ridiculous, this can't be real. He thinks, hysterically, that yesterday he was wondering which pair of limited edition Nikes Spencer would like best for his birthday. Today he's wondering how he's going to say goodbye to one of his best friends.
No point getting the shoes, he thinks. In one month Spencer won't even have feet.
He wants to laugh. It has to be a joke. Is Punk'd still on? Is Ashton Kutcher going to leap out at them and laugh at him and Brendon for believing their drummer was actually a mermaid?
Merman, whatever.
Jon needs a drink. Really, really badly.
*
It's tense for a few days after that. Ryan and Spencer spend most of their time huddled protectively together, talking in whispers so low that Jon can't hear them, or else in some secret languages of touches far quieter even than that. Brendon mostly mopes quietly from room to room, looking at everyone with large, helpless eyes.
Spencer snapped his DVD of The Little Mermaid in half.
Jon mostly stays in his own room, listening to his iPod, being careful to skip all the songs about water, while he tries to imagine a world without Spencer Smith in it. It's surprisingly hard.
He can't even remember his life before Panic without footnoting Spencer's into it. When I was in 5o4, he thinks, Spencer was in high school. When I spent that summer at my grandma's in Milwaukee, Spencer was in Las Vegas learning how to be human.
On day three there's a knock at his door. Jon makes a noise, which Brendon takes as an invitation. He shuffles in looking tired and far older than Jon remembers him looking. Jon has a moment of panic where he wonders if he somehow fell asleep for a whole month. What if Spencer left and he never got to say goodbye?
"He's still kind of pissed at me, I think," Brendon says and Jon relaxes. He can pretend, for at least a minute, that Spencer is pissed because Brendon ate the last of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, not because he kept humming 'Poor Unfortunate Souls' under his breath. "I told him I was sorry," Brendon says, flopping onto Jon's bed, half on top of him. "I didn't mean to. I'm just, I'm trying to process this, you know? I can't help it that the only previous experience I have with mermaids is a Disney classic with catchy songs."
"Mermen," Jon corrects, but he lets Brendon wrap his arms around him and bury his face in Jon's shoulder.
"I don't know what else to do. I don't want him to go."
"He has to, Bren," Jon says, but he doesn't want Spencer to go either. All of him is aching, is screaming for Spencer to stay.
"He showed me his tail," Brendon says so quietly, his mouth so muffled by Jon's t-shirt that Jon thinks he's misheard. "Like, he's actually got one. It's real."
"How-"
"Spencer never swam, did you ever think that was weird?" Brendon says. "He always said he didn't want to mess up his hair but it's really because he turns into a mermaid. Merman. Whatever."
"What was it like?" Jon asks too quietly. Maybe Brendon didn't hear him. It's probably more likely that he's ignoring the question, that he doesn't know what to say.
"There has to be some kind of way he can stay, right?" Brendon mumbles. "We'll think of a way."
"Sure," Jon says. "Of course we will." He doesn't mean to sound placating, he wants to believe it, but he isn't sure Spencer even wants to stay.
Brendon doesn't seem to hold it against him, though. He squeezes Jon tighter and says, "Don't worry, Jon Walker. I won't let the cruel ocean take your Spencer Smith away."
"Not my Spencer Smith," Jon says with a peculiar empty ache in his stomach. "Our Spencer Smith."
"Our Spencer Smith," Brendon agrees.
Jon knows it's a bad idea, but he can't help trusting Brendon a little. It's not like they have any other kind of hope.
*
With three weeks to go, Jon finds Spencer out by the pool, lying in the grass with his sunglasses on.
“Hey.”
Spencer lifts his head and smiles at Jon a little nervously. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
Spencer shrugs.
“Where’s Ryan?”
“Writing.”
Jon nods. “Can I?” He gestures to the grass curling over Spencer’s elbow.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
Jon lies down next to him, the two of them spread out on their backs, eyes closed against the sun.
After awhile Spencer asks, “Are you freaked out?”
“A little,” Jon admits. “I mean it’s kind of surreal, you know? And you’re going.”
“Yeah,” Spencer agrees, but doesn’t say anything else.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
Spencer looks guilty. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it would go this far. It was never supposed to get this complicated. And there never really was a good time to say something so… crazy.” Jon snorts softly in agreement. “I’m sorry,” Spencer says. “I just didn’t want to ruin things.”
“It’s okay,” Jon says. “You being a mermaid - merman - isn’t that big a deal. You could have been a dragon and then we’d have some real problems. We would have saved money on pyrotechnics though.”
Spencer laughs and relaxes into the grass, almost like he’s melting into it. “At least there’s that,” he says.
“What was it like?” Jon asks. Spencer is quiet. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay,” Jon adds quickly, “I just was-”
“I just don’t really remember, that’s all,” Spencer says. “I know it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago, but it’s just hard to remember. It’s like I forgot.”
Jon’s gut clenches and his stomach rises to his throat, like he took a shot too fast. “Will you forget us when you go back?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “I hope not.” He turns his head to face Jon and takes off his glasses. “This, you, all of you, have meant a lot to me,” he says, biting his lip a little, like when he’s saying something he really means, something that makes him feel vulnerable. “I don’t want to forget you.”
“You’ve meant a lot to us too,” Jon says. “To me.” He turns to look at Spencer, his expression as serious as he can make it. “I don’t put on eyeliner for just any boy, Spencer Smith.”
Spencer laughs and rolls onto his back again. He closes his eyes, turning his face up to the sun. Jon rolls onto his side and curls in on himself to watch. Spencer looks comfortable, happy. Jon can't believe he doesn't belong here.
"You don't want to leave, do you?" he asks. His voice sounds young, even to his own ears.
Spencer's smile straightens out and he shrugs. He puts on his ridiculously over-sized sunglasses and immediately becomes expressionless. "I came here for Ryan. He doesn't really need me anymore."
"You're his best friend, of course he needs you."
"Not in the same way," Spencer clarifies. "Not really."
Jon says, "I guess not" and rolls onto his back. What he wants to say is "but I need you," like it would make some kind of difference.
*
Spencer has been taking a lot of walks alone lately. He doesn’t even let Ryan come with him. Jon thinks he’s probably saying goodbye to the trees, the dirt, the grass - all the things the surface has to offer. Jon wishes he could take pictures Spencer could take with him.
While Spencer is out the rest of them have what none of them want to admit are band meetings. It isn’t until the fourth or fifth meeting that Brendon finally says, “Guys, I don’t want to be a dick, but what about the band?”
Neither of them accuses him of being insensitive, probably, Jon guesses, because they’ve been thinking about it too.
Ryan speaks first. “I don’t want to do this without Spencer.”
“I don’t either,” Jon says, and is surprised to discover that it’s true. He’s been in other bands with other friends. Line-ups have always been interchangeable. But Panic can’t exist without Spencer, it just can’t. It’d be like if they lost Ryan or Brendon. Jon wonders if they’d do the same for him and thinks, immediately, that they probably would. It makes him feel warm for a moment, in spite of everything. This is what a band is supposed to be, he thinks. It’s stupid that it has to be ruined just because Spencer isn’t exactly human.
“Okay,” Brendon says, sounding shell-shocked but sure. “So what do we do?”
“We deal with it later,” Jon says firmly. These final weeks should be about Spencer. He glances at Ryan, who is nodding silently, and knows that he agrees. They’ll deal with it later.
When they tell Spencer he, predictably, doesn’t want to deal with it later.
“This is so stupid,” he says. “You don’t have to quit the band just because I won’t be there. We replaced Brent.”
“You’re not Brent,” Ryan shrugs. “We already decided.”
“Well then what are you going to tell everyone?” Spencer says, changing tactics. “You broke up because your drummer is a mythical creature?”
“We’ll tell them we broke up because of irreconcilable differences. We just won’t tell them the differences were that you’re a different species,” Jon says and smiles.
Spencer laughs; it sounds close to a sob but it still sounds like he means it. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, quietly. “You all really wanted this. Jon, you waited forever to get this far-”
“We don’t want to do it without you,” Jon says. “Doesn’t matter how far we get, it won’t be worth it if you’re not there with us.”
“So what are you going to do?” Spencer demands. “Get day jobs?”
“Hell no,” Brendon scoffs. “We’re rich and famous rock stars. We’re all going to marry groupies and get coke habits.”
“I plan to break out of rehab and marry an Olsen twin for twenty-four hours,” Jon says calmly. “Or maybe I’ll have a scandalous gay affair with Matt Bellamy. Or become a scientologist. I have a lot of options.”
“You guys are ridiculous,” Spencer says, but Jon can tell he means ‘thank you.’
*
With two weeks left, Jon finally gives up even the hope of sleep and wanders out to the pool, snagging a Diet Coke on his way through the kitchen. He would have preferred a beer, but Ryan's not in any kind of mood to have alcohol in the cabin.
Jon kicks off his flip flops and rolls up the cuffs of his jeans so he can sink his feet into the water. It feels enclosed, everywhere. He can't believe Spencer lived like this, is going to spend the rest of his life like this. It's probably different for him, but Jon can't imagine it no matter how hard he tries.
As if Jon wished him there, Spencer comes out onto the patio, pulling a hoodie on as he approaches. His bare feet are making soft flat noises against the brick. Jon tries to memorize the sound.
"Jon, what are you doing out here?"
"Couldn't sleep," Jon shrugs. "You?"
"I saw the light on."
"I didn't wake you up, did I?"
"No. I haven't really been sleeping much lately anyway." Spencer makes a face. "I probably look like crap."
"You don't," Jon says. Spencer smiles at him. "Can I see it?" Jon blurts out.
"What?" Spencer's expression is closed off again. He's been doing that a lot lately and it makes Jon nervous, but he has to know.
"You know," he says. "Your tail."
"Jon..."
"I just want to know what it's like," Jon says quickly. "So I can picture you. After you go." Jon has always been a very visual person and he knows it'll drive him crazy if he can't imagine Spencer the way he's going to be.
"Okay," Spencer says finally, still not giving Jon any clues as to what he might be thinking. He takes off his hoodie and his t-shirt, his jeans and his boxers. When he steps into the pool it's slow and careful and Jon remembers that, apart from when he showed Brendon, Spencer probably hasn't done this in awhile. "It takes a minute," Spencer says into the heavy silence.
One minute passes, then two, three, five, maybe ten. Neither of them speak or move. Jon never looks away from Spencer, standing naked and shoulder-deep in the water, looking self-conscious. Then Jon blinks and Spencer isn't standing anymore. His chest is the same, but where his legs should be there's... It's undeniably a fish tail, complete with scales and ending in a flourish, like one of those mean fish you can only have one of, Jon thinks. Those beta fish. The scales seem to change color in the underwater light. It's beautiful, in a way. It's Spencer, Jon realizes. This is really Spencer.
"Spence," Jon says, and his voice might crack a little, just on the first E.
Spencer moves like he's going to get out of the water, but Jon slides off the edge and into the pool, clothes and all. He pushes his way through the heavy water to pull Spencer against him.
Spencer's tail doesn't stop moving but the rest of him does, going tense in Jon's arms. The water displaced by Spencer's tail flows around Jon's legs and Spencer's scales brush up against his calves, against his toes. He jerks his legs away.
"You tickle," he explains and buries his face in Spencer's bare, wet neck.
"You itch," Spencer replies but he moves his hands, finally, one tentatively brushing Jon's arm, the other fisting firmly in his wet t-shirt. Jon dips one hand into the water and lightly runs his fingers over Spencer's hip, the place where skin becomes scales. Spencer makes a sharp sound. "You're still dressed," Spencer says. "You're gonna get sick. You need to dry off."
Jon nods in agreement and presses a tiny, friendly kiss to the corner of Spencer's mouth. He tastes like chlorine, salt and peppermint.
They swim to the edge and Jon pulls himself out after Spencer. For the briefest moment he sees Spencer out of water, sitting on the edge of the pool with his tail fanning out over the surface. And then his legs are back and he's standing, stamping his feet and going for his jeans.
Spencer keeps his back to Jon as he gets dressed. "Pins and needles," he explains. "They come back kind of numb."
Jon just nods and follows Spencer back into the cabin, politely saying nothing about the fact that both of them are hard.
*
"So," Jon says, two days later. He feels uncomfortable asking, but he's sick of just wondering so he says, "what's going on downstairs? Is it all sushi?"
Spencer snorts Diet Coke out of his nose. "Downstairs?" he repeats.
Brendon looks up from his video game with interest. Ryan's gaze shoots up to the ceiling where he stares purposefully, his eyes going out of focus; he's probably trying to ignore the fact that this conversation is happening. Jon kind of wants to join Ryan in staring at the Ceiling of Avoidance, but he really just has to know.
"You know," Jon says, and waves a hand in the vague direction of Spencer's crotch.
"You've seen it," Spencer says, crossing his legs and turning pink.
"I meant, you know, underwater."
"All sushi," Spencer says tightly and flees the room.
"Dude." When Jon turns to look at him, Brendon's eyes are wide. "That's a fucking tragedy."
Jon privately agrees.
*
"I have a plan," Brendon announces for about the hundredth time in two weeks. He probably does have one, but Jon doesn't feel very optimistic about it, given that previous plans have included buying a houseboat and building a moat around the cabin.
This one is, if possible, even worse.
"One of us," he says confidently, "needs to fall in love with Spencer."
Ryan and Jon stare at him.
"It always works in the movies," Brendon insists.
"This isn't a movie, Brendon," Jon points out.
"Yeah, because drummers turn out to be mermaids all the time," Brendon says. Jon hates to admit it, but that's kind of a good point.
"It's worth a try," Ryan says thoughtfully. He looks pointedly at Jon, who stares blankly back.
"Thank you," Brendon sighs. "Okay, so, Ryan-"
"Wait, what?" Ryan says. "Why me?"
"You're the obvious choice," Brendon explains, "since you're the one who Prince Eric'd him up here in the first place."
"If I was going to fall in love with him don't you think I'd have done it already?"
"Maybe you're just romantically retarded," Brendon argues.
"Maybe I'm just straight," Ryan says. "Make Jon do it."
"Please," Brendon scoffs. "Jon 'Real Boy' Walker?"
"Jon?" asks Ryan, ignoring Brendon.
"I don't," Jon says, but he doesn't know how to finish that sentence. He thinks of Spencer's face in the sun, of kissing a microscopic portion of his cold, wet mouth.
"I told you," Brendon says to Ryan.
"Well, then why don't you do it?" Ryan snaps.
"Fine," Brendon says. "I will," and he disappears, calling loudly for Spencer.
Jon rolls his eyes and turns to tell Ryan that this is Brendon's worst idea ever but Ryan is still looking at him with that mystifying expression, like he wants something from Jon but isn't sure how to ask for it, like he doesn’t even think he should need to. Jon doesn't know why, but it makes him feel guilty.
*
A few days later, Ryan accosts Jon over breakfast.
“So, Spencer,” he says for no apparent reason.
Jon frowns at Ryan over his poptarts. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been acting kind of differently with him lately, right?” He’s looking at Jon like he knows everything Jon has every thought or felt. Jon tries hard not to think about kissing Spencer in the pool, which is dumb, because it was a friendly kiss and Ryan can’t read minds anyway.
“He’s a mermaid. Merman,” Jon corrects himself immediately. “It kind of shocked me at first, I guess.”
“Would you treat Brendon any differently if he was a unicorn?” Ryan demands.
It’s clearly a trick question. “Um, he isn’t, is he?” Jon is only half-joking.
“No,” Ryan says, “this is purely hypothetical.”
“Well, I don’t know, is Brendon the Unicorn going to some magical candyland in the clouds where I’ll never see him again?”
“We’ll see Spencer,” Ryan says. “He’ll just be a little different.”
“A little?” Jon repeats.
Ryan ignores him and continues, saying, “You’ve been asking a lot of questions about his dick lately…”
“Oh my god, Ryan, I was curious!” Jon says. “I’m not gay or anything.”
“I’m just saying,” Ryan says, shrugging. He stands and stretches, still sounding completely nonchalant when he says, “Spencer is my best friend and I don’t want to have to put on a wet suit every time I want to go see him. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Brendon’s latest idea is our best shot.”
“I didn’t think the one we were all took scuba lessons was too bad,” Jon says.
“And,” Ryan says, narrowing his eyes at Jon, “I think Brendon has about as much of a chance of falling in love with Spencer as he does with a cactus, so it’s up to you.” Ryan’s expression is so blank it’s threatening. “I don’t want to lose my best friend, Jon Walker and I am not above locking the two of you in a room together naked if it means he’ll stay.”
“Um,” Jon says.
“Think about it,” says Ryan and, just as he leaves, he leans back into the kitchen and says, “By the way, I know you kissed him in the pool, you pervert.”
Jon feels himself go red and Ryan laughs as he leaves.
*
“Spencer is spurning my advances,” Brendon whines, flopping across Jon on the couch. Jon has a moment of stupid satisfaction. He shouldn’t be so pleased; ridiculous as it is, Brendon’s plan is the only one they’ve got. “He doesn’t appreciate my sacrifice,” Brendon continues. “I’m seducing him for the good of the band, you’d think he’d be grateful.”
Jon shrugs and pats Brendon sympathetically not taking his eyes away from VH1’s countdown of the hundred greatest one hit wonders.
“Jon, I’m failing to save Spencer from a lifetime of Jamaican crabs and sea witches and all you care about is the theme from Friends.”
Jon shrugs again. Truthfully, if Spencer isn’t around he doesn’t particularly want to do anything that will let him do too much thinking. His thoughts have been kind of weird lately. He attributes that to the complexly fucked up fairy tale this band has become.
‘I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)’ comes on and Jon mutes the TV because walking reminds him too much of Spencer. He turns to look at Brendon. “What do you want me to do?” He’s getting frustrated. Ryan and Brendon keep looking at him like he’s supposed to be fixing everything and Spencer won’t look at him at all.
“Can you talk me up to him?” Brendon suggests.
“This isn’t high school, Brendon.”
Brendon huffs and pouts at the TV. Jon turns the sound back up. ‘I Touch Myself’ is on. For some stupid reason that makes him think of Spencer again. He turns off the TV.
“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be chasing after Spence?”
“Ryan Ross stole him from me. I’m here to do research.” He proudly holds up a copy of Splash.
Huh, Jon thinks. Spencer is totally a hotter mermaid than Daryl Hannah. And then he thinks, Oh crap. Ryan Ross has clearly brainwashed him.
“Good luck with that,” he says to Brendon and stands.
“You’re not staying?” Brendon has produced a notebook and a bubblegum scented pencil from nowhere. He’s seriously going to take notes.
Jon shakes his head. He needs to find Spencer. To warn him, or something. Whatever.
He tries Ryan’s room first, but Ryan’s alone.
“Oh, uh. Hey,” Jon says.
Ryan gives him another Look. He’s been Looking at him like that for days, like Jon is one of those optical illusions with some hidden picture in it. It’s like he knows Jon’s hiding something, which is stupid, because Jon isn’t hiding anything, he’s the most open person ever, not like Ryan, who has no fucking facial expressions.
“Spencer isn’t here,” Ryan says. “He’s out walking again.”
“Spencer?” Jon asks innocently. “Is Spencer my only friend in this band? Can’t I come say hello to my good buddy Ryan Ross?”
“Not if you kiss all your good buddies in pools,” Ryan smirks and shuts the door in Jon’s face.
“It was a friendly kiss!” Jon tells the door. “Between friends! You kiss Brendon all the time!”
“Not alone in the middle of the night!” Ryan calls.
“This is all your fault,” Jon grumbles. “Bringing mermaids to Las Vegas and starting bands with them. Asshole.”
“He took the trail to the lake about an hour ago,” Ryan says. “You can probably catch him on his way back.”
Jon doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but he doesn’t want to stay inside and compare Spencer to Daryl Hannah either, so he compromises, parking himself on the back step to wait.
To kill time he calls his mom and apologizes for not calling her as often as usual. “I think the band’s gonna break up,” he tells her.
“Oh honey,” she says. “You’ll find a new band.”
“It’s not that,” Jon insists. “It’s just that things are changing. Spencer,” he admits, “Spencer is changing.”
“People change, Jon.”
“Not like this,” Jon laughs.
“He’s a nice boy,” Jon’s mom says. “Don’t write him off, alright? You’ll work things out. Sometimes when people change you have to change with them.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jon says. She has no idea what he means but Jon feels better anyway. Moms seriously have magical powers. He sees Spencer coming and says, “I gotta go.”
“Tell the boys I say hello,” she says, “and take care of yourself.”
“I will. Bye, Mom.” He hangs up as Spencer approaches the steps. “Hey,” Jon says. “Wanna sit with me?” When Spencer hesitates he adds, “It’s me or another forty-five minutes of Splash. Brendon’s taking notes,” he warns.
Spencer makes a face and settles down next to Jon. “Brendon is being weird." Spencer pauses, then amends, "I mean, weirder than usual.”
“Yeah?” Jon says, trying for neutrality.
Spencer eyes him narrowly. “Is he…” Spencer looks uncomfortable and Jon caves.
“Wooing you? Yes.”
Spencer sighs dramatically. “It’s the merman thing, isn’t it? It gives me animal magnetism. It makes me very alluring.”
“Do fish even have animal magnetism?” Jon snorts.
Spencer bumps him with his shoulder. “Yes,” he says firmly. “Fish are wildly sexy.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Jon says. They sit in silence for a minute.
Jon wonders if he should say something about that kiss, tell Spencer he’s sorry, that Jon was just trying to make him feel better, that it didn’t mean anything weird, he’s not Brendon, but for some reason he can’t make himself say it. If he’s completely honest with himself, Jon will admit that he’s not quite sure why he did it in the first place. He doesn’t know how to excuse it, or even if he should. Instead he says, “Do you wanna get out of here? We can go somewhere, anywhere you want.”
Jon doesn’t have to say that Spencer only has one week left. They both are keenly aware of it.
Spencer considers. “Okay,” he says. “I want Taco Bell.”
Jon laughs. “You have seven days left above sea level and you want to spend them eating Taco Bell?”
“I’m being considerate,” Spencer says. “It was either tacos or shoe shopping.”
“I’ll take the tacos,” Jon says gratefully, and thinks the whole mermaid thing might explain Spencer’s fascination with footwear.
*
Jon and Spencer spend most of the evening eating burritos on the hood of Jon’s car, parked by the side of the road overlooking the lights below. They’re quiet, but for once it’s a comfortable quiet. Jon thinks about asking Spencer what he’ll be eating next week, but he doesn’t want to ruin it; Spencer looks so happy, shoving burritos in his mouth. Jon can almost believe the two of them are just taking a break from Ryan and Brendon, letting them work out their creative differences, and when they’re done eating they’ll go back to the cabin and write an amazing song and none of Ryan’s lyrics will be about the cruelty of the sea.
But Spencer, as usual, has to be difficult.
“The worst part about this is,” he says, apropos of nothing, “that there are all these things I always meant to say or do, but now it’s just selfish and stupid to do them so I really can’t. It sucks.”
“Like what?” Jon asks, leaning back against the windshield.
Spencer looks thoughtful for a moment. Jon wonders if the question was a little too personal. “I always wanted to tell Brendon that I was the one who spilled barbeque sauce on his favorite purple hoodie,” he says seriously.
Jon laughs. “I guess it wouldn’t be fair, since he’d have to forgive you now.”
“Before he would have squirted mustard all over my favorite shoes,” Spencer agrees. “And it would have escalated from there.” He rolls his eyes, but Jon can tell he’s missing it already.
“I guess we haven’t been making these weeks very fun for you,” Jon says apologetically. “What with Brendon trying to stick his tongue down your throat and Ryan writing emo lyrics and me-”
“And you asking awkward personal questions and being a general tool?” Spencer supplies, his eyes opened wide and innocent.
Jon laughs. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
“Jon, you asked me about my fish parts. My intimate fish parts.”
“How many chances was I going to get to find out about the reproductive organs of merpeople?” Jon demands. “I was asking for science. I stand by my question.”
Spencer laughs and leans back next to Jon. “At least you’ll never be able to eat sushi again. I guess that’s revenge enough for me.”
“Shit, I hadn’t thought of that,” Jon says. Wow. He really won’t be able to eat sushi ever again. “I guess I should have thought that through, huh?”
Spencer looks smug. “Well, I guess you could try to keep eating it anyway, and just ignore that fact that you’ll clearly be thinking about my dick when you do.” It’s getting dark out, but Jon can still see Spencer blush a little, which is strange, because all of them have always made inappropriate comments about their own genitals or the genitals of others without being embarrassed.
Jon decides Spencer is just self-conscious about his aquatic equipment so he leers and says, “Maybe I’ll go on a strictly sushi diet so I’ll be thinking about it all the time.”
Spencer laughs, but it doesn’t sound right. Jon frowns and begins to wonder. “Let’s go. Ryan and Brendon are probably freaking out.”
“Okay,” Jon says.
Later, when they’re stopped at a traffic light, Jon clears his throat and says, “Spencer.” Spencer’s face is red out of the corner of his eyes, bathed in the break lights and stop lights. “Spencer, there’s nothing you wanted to tell me, is there?”
Spencer’s face is blank. He’s been spending too much time with Ryan. Jon thinks Spencer might make a joke, say something about how Jon’s prized possessions are safe because Spencer never borrowed his flip flops, but eventually he looks straight ahead and says, “Nothing that’s worth saying now.”
“Spence,” Jon says.
“It’s not important,” Spencer says firmly. “Hey, do you want to get ice cream?” he asks, voice changing completely to something bright and cheerful, something from an entirely different conversation. Jon takes the hint and doesn’t say anything else about regrets as he makes a left to Coldstone.
*
Brendon proposes to Spencer with five days to go. He goes down on one knee and everything, holding out a tiny little plastic ring he probably bought at a grocery store from a vending machine. Jon thinks it would barely fit halfway down Spencer’s pinky. He doesn’t blame Spencer for laughing.
“It’s not like a green card, Brendon,” he explains.
“Maybe it isn’t about that,” Brendon says, looking decidedly shifty. “Maybe I’m just in love with you. Did you ever think of that?”
“Brendon, you know I love you, bit I’m really, really not in love with you. Thanks for trying, though.”
“Maybe we should just give it a shot?” Brendon says hopefully. “Just in case we can fool the ocean?”
“You can’t fool a body of water,” Spencer says.
“Well, do you want to just make out a bit and see what happens?”
“Brendon, it’s not going to happen.” Brendon looks crushed. “Do you want to watch Splash again?” Spencer asks kindly.
“You could at least try,” Brendon snaps and storms out of the room, leaving Jon and Spencer awash in his awkward wake.
Spencer frowns and unpauses their interrupted Guitar Hero match like nothing ever happened. He waits a song and a half before he says, “He couldn’t seriously have thought that was going to work.” He looks guilty and angry. Jon doesn’t want him to ever look like that, sad and torn and regretful.
“It never would have worked,” he agrees. “You’d make a terrible wife. And you’re not very loveable anyway.”
Spencer laughs. “I thought you agreed my fish parts were sexy?”
“I was lying,” Jon says solemnly. “You repulse me. Back to the lagoon with you, creature.”
“You suck,” Spencer says and makes a face. He pauses. “It never would have worked,” he says again.
Jon nods. “Brendon could never make enough money to keep you in the lifestyle to which you have become accustomed. Now, Ryan on the other hand-”
“Ew,” Spencer laughs. “Ew, ew. That can stop right there, thanks.”
“Well,” Jon says, “I guess that just leaves me. What do you say, Spence? Will you consider marrying me as an alternative to life below sea level?” He waggles his eyebrows and gives Spencer a cocky grin. He doesn’t know why, but he’s a little too interested in Spencer’s reply.
Spencer just smiles at him, small and a little sad. “Too bad for you, Jon Walker,” he says, “I know you’re not the marrying kind.” He beats Jon at Guitar Hero. Again. “Rematch?”
*
Spencer has less than forty-eight hours to be human.
The four of them are all squished around a couch, watching Moulin Rouge. Jon has been up for the past two days. He thinks for Ryan it might be longer. He just can't shut off his mind long enough to fall asleep, and even if he could he wouldn't want to. Jon wants to get the most out of the few hours of Spencer he has left.
Right now Spencer is pressed tight against his side. If he tilts his head slightly his nose is filled with the smell of Spencer's shampoo, his deodorant, his skin. The tips of Spencer's hair just barely graze Jon's ear.
Ryan is on Spencer's other side, close enough to have been welded to him. Brendon is on the floor, back pressed against Spencer's legs. It's like they think if they surround him completely enough nothing can ever take him away.
Jon can't focus on the movie, but he's seen it enough to fake it. Instead he watched the play of light across Spencer's face, the way the freckles are illuminated on the bridge of his nose.
He's beautiful, Jon realizes. He's never really thought about it before, but it's true. Spencer's probably the most beautiful person he knows. But he's also one of Jon's best friends. He means a lot, more than Jon ever really appreciated. Jon hates that he's realizing all of this now; it means that he can't trust it, because it's all drifting towards him on a current of 'now now before it's too late'.
He leans his head closer to Spencer's, nose against his ear and tries to untangle how he feels about that. The heat of Spencer's skin soaks into him but that's just physics. It's harder to breathe, but that's just because of the way the air can barely get to his lungs around Spencer's skin.
"Jon?" Spencer asks quietly.
"It's okay," Jon replies, just as quietly. "It's all good," he says. It isn't. His stomach is twisting in on itself and he's breathing nothing but Spencer's smell. He feels lightheaded and queasy. He pulls away.
Spencer puts a tentative arm around Jon's shoulders. "It is," he agrees. He sounds reassuring, but his eyes are roving all over Jon's face. He wouldn't look so desperate if he really meant it.
Jon turns back to the movie and thinks Christian was lucky. He didn't know he was going to lose Satine, he didn't have to count every second like Jon does.
And then he remembers that he's not in love with Spencer, so it isn't the same at all.
He's grateful when Brendon quietly asks if they can turn off the movie before Satine dies.
*
They all go out to the shore with Spencer.
It's a long, quiet drive. It's strange not to hear Brendon belting out Usher songs, not to dodge whatever Spencer is throwing at him, not to be drawing mustaches on Ryan’s face when he falls asleep.
It’s nearly sunset when they reach the shore. They all trudge out to the surf, not saying anything. Jon feels like he’s dreaming. He feels heavy and disembodied at the same time. He keeps sneaking looks at Spencer. Spencer is looking at the sand, his expression drawn.
Their little procession ends where the waves die out into sand. They all stand in silence. Ryan has his arms crossed and isn’t looking at anyone. Brendon is making strange, contorted faces; Jon can tell he’s trying not to cry. Jon shoves his hands in his pockets and kicks at the sand a little. He feels tired and jumpy at the same time, hyperaware of how slow everything is.
“Well,” Spencer says finally. His voice is strange, a little too high and uncontrolled to really be his voice.
“Spencer,” Ryan says. He actually looks afraid. Jon has never seen him this expressive before. He wants to laugh; he realizes he might be hysterical. Brendon is pale and keeps blinking sharply and looking away. Jon doesn’t even want to know what he looks like right now.
“Don’t say anything,” Spencer says quickly. “Just. It’ll only, I don’t know. Just don’t.”
“We love you, Spence,” Brendon says anyway, and Spencer makes a pained expression. Jon wants to laugh again. He’s very clearly hysterical.
“Thank you,” Spencer says quietly. “I love you guys too.”
This is ridiculous, Jon thinks. They’re all gathered here to throw Spencer back into the ocean like he’s a fish too small to keep. He hates this. Mermaid rules are so freaking stupid.
Spencer hugs Brendon first and Brendon clings to him. If he makes a few undignified sounds into Spencer’s shoulder no one mentions it.
Jon is surprised when Spencer turns to Ryan next; he expected Spencer to save him for last. Ryan throws himself on Spencer and Jon can hear them whispering to each other just under the sound of the waves crashing. He can’t tell, but he thinks the tide is coming in. The water looks like it’s coming closer and closer every second. Next to him, Brendon is wiping his eyes and sniffling. He looks like he’s about eight years old when he cries, and Jon realizes he’s never really seen Brendon cry before. Sure, when Marissa died he got a little teary but this is different. Jon has never seen him look like this before.
When Ryan and Spencer finally pull apart, Ryan immediately goes to Brendon and rubs his shoulder. Brendon sniffles again, louder and hugs Ryan. Ryan gives Jon another one of his Looks over Brendon’s shoulder. Jon doesn’t really know what to do with it.
“Jon,” Spencer says and Jon hugs him, harder than he’s ever hugged anyone but his mom. Spencer’s fingers are pressing into his shoulders and Jon hopes they leave bruises. “Jon,” Spencer says again and Jon pulls back to look at him. Spencer just smiles at him, a little sadly, then kisses him, feather-light, on the corner of his mouth, just where Jon kissed him in the pool.
Jon really doesn’t know what to do with that.
Brendon, slightly mucousy and Ryan, with his makeup smudging, close in around Spencer. The four of them huddle there together on the beach with the sun sinking into the water behind them. Jon thinks they must look like shipwreck refugees, ragged and desperate and lost.
It’s a long time (not long enough) before Spencer says, “I have to go,” and longer still before they all make themselves release him. Ryan is the last one to step away.
Spencer wades out into the water alone. He keeps his clothes on this time, like he doesn’t want to admit he won’t need them where he’s going. Jon wonders what they’re going to do with all of his shoes.
A minute passes. Two.
Jon feels the blood rushing to his head as every pulsing of his heart takes him closer to a world without Spencer. He can’t breathe. He thinks he might be crying.
“Jon?” Brendon asks, nervous.
“Jon,” Ryan says, knowing.
Fuck, Jon thinks, and he charges out into the surf.
“Spence,” he chokes out. “Spencer.”
Spencer turns. The sun is just an orange-gold sliver behind him. “Jon? What-”
“Spencer, I love you, okay? I'm in love with you, so you can’t go.” He half falls forward, grabbing Spencer’s shoulders to steady himself. “Spencer,” he says, “Spence,” and he kisses him, hard, just in case Brendon is wrong and this is the last chance he has.
The sun sets behind Spencer’s shoulders, the orange afterglow lighting the water’s surface on fire. Spencer buckles in Jon’s arms and Jon panics, gripping him tight enough to bruise.
“Spencer,” he says again and his voice catches in his throat. He’s definitely crying now.
“It’s okay,” Spencer says against his mouth. “I just, I got lightheaded for a minute, I’m not-”
Just to be extra sure, Jon lifts Spencer up, feeling for scales. Spencer wraps his legs - his human legs! - around Jon’s waist and kisses him again. Jon can hear Brendon shouting from the shore, can taste salt between their mouths from the sea. His clothes are wet and uncomfortable, but he doesn’t care. He runs his hands along Spencer’s thighs to reassure himself of their continued existence and just because it makes Spencer shiver.
They pull apart when Jon realizes they’re both shaking from cold; the sun is down and the water wasn’t very warm to begin with.
Jon grins at Spencer. “Spence,” he says again. He can’t seem to say it enough.
Spencer just smiles at him and says, “Hi.” Jon laughs.
He keeps a firm grip on Spencer’s hand as they trudge back to the shore. He can’t make himself stop touching Spencer.
“Cutting it kind of close, weren’t you?” Ryan asks smugly. He appears to be holding Brendon back by the collar.
He releases him as Jon and Spencer reach the surf and Brendon charges, pouncing Spencer delightedly. Then he jumps on Jon and says, “Jon Walker, you made Spencer a real boy! With your tongue! I love you.”
Jon just laughs and Spencer’s hand tightens on his own. Jon grins at him. How was he so stupid all these years?
Ryan, the smug bastard, says, “So what happened to not being gay, Jon?”
“I’m still not gay,” Jon says. “I don’t like dudes. I just like mermen.”
Spencer laughs and beams at them all and wiggles his toes in the sand, like he’s growing roots that will keep him here forever.
Or at least that’s what Jon likes to think.