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bandomstuffsitClick here for Part One, headers and warnings
Click here for Part Two
Spencer started to spend most of his evenings at the coffee shop, working on his laptop. The chairs were comfortable, the music was good, and the coffee was just the right amount of strong and sweet. And Jon was right: they did have the most attractive baristas in town.
He liked being surrounded by all of the people in the shop, letting himself get lost in his work and coming to hours later, his brain shocked and overloaded by all the noise around him and how he’d managed to tune it out.
The shop closed at eleven, and Spencer liked seeing it empty out, too. Usually he’d leave before the place closed, around 10:30, but on this particular night he got distracted by an op-ed piece he was writing for class and ended up sticking around until eleven.
Jon appeared from behind the counter and said, “You’re not even paying attention, are you?”
Spencer looked up from his computer. “Huh?”
“Listen.” So Spencer listened, and Jon, the dork that he was, was playing “Closing Time.”
“That,” Jon said, “means it’s time to close.”
Spencer laughed. “You could just kick my ass out. You don’t have to send me messages through the music.”
“Closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end,” Jon sang as he grabbed a broom and started to sweep the floor. Even though it wasn’t that strong, he had a nice singing voice.
Spencer continued to put the finishing touches on his article, and Jon stopped in front of him, one hand on the broom and the other on his hip. He looked down at Spencer and raised an eyebrow. “Smith, are you gonna help me or just sit there looking good?”
“What?” Spencer knew what he heard, though: Jon thought he looked good. He smiled to himself, very self-satisfied. “I wasn’t aware I was supposed to help.”
Jon threw him a rag. “You can wipe off tables.”
Spencer caught the rag and closed the lid on his laptop. “Sure. I don’t know why they have you close by yourself. You have so much stuff to do.” He got to his feet, feeling the ache in his arms and legs from sitting in one place for so long.
“I can manage, but you’re here, so.” Jon raised an eyebrow, almost daring him to say no.
“So you’re going to put me to work,” Spencer said, crossing his arms over his chest. Immediately Jon’s focus went to Spencer’s arms before, quickly, he looked in his eyes again. “I see.”
Jon laughed. “You use our wi-fi. You drink our coffee. You not-so-subtly check out a certain barista from time to time. You owe it to us.”
“I thought I was extremely subtle. And who would that certain barista be?” Spencer teased. “He could learn a thing about subtlety.”
“He probably could,” Jon said, “but he has too much fun seeing you get riled up.”
“Is that what it’s about? Seeing me get ‘riled up’?” Spencer put his laptop in its bag and set it on the chair.
Jon pursed his lips. “Not really. Maybe this certain barista just likes you.” He walked over to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign from “Open” to “Closed.” He looked over his shoulder, gauging what kind of reaction his words were going to get out of Spencer.
He wasn’t going to get one. Spencer said nothing, choosing instead to focus on wiping down the tables as quickly as possible. For anyone else, he wouldn’t have done this, but Jon had been there for probably eight or more hours, and he had to close by himself. Spencer knew he was tired, and he wanted to help him get home faster.
As Jon moved around the store, sweeping up crumbs and throwing away stray napkins and coffee cups, he sang along to the music, so softly Spencer had to strain to hear. The song changed over to Best Coast. This place had acquainted Spencer with that band very well, and he recognized them from the “Boyfriend” song he’d heard what felt like ages ago at Ryan and Z’s.
“Maybe I’m just crazy, crazy for you, baby,” Jon sang, and Spencer had to smile.
“Is the music from your personal collection?” Spencer asked.
Jon seemed startled by the interruption. “Yeah, we’re allowed to hook up our iPods to the stereo system. Most of the time, whatever you hear is mine.”
“I like it,” Spencer said. “Not just this song, I mean. I like everything I’ve heard here.”
“I’ll have to make you a mix!” Jon said excitedly, and then he laughed. “Is mix-making a lost art form? It feels like no one makes mix CDs anymore. It’s becoming obsolete.”
“I would love a mix.”
“Really?”
“Are you okay with not having artwork?”
Spencer laughed. “Yeah. I don’t need artwork.”
“I used to – in high school – make these really elaborate mixes for my friends with artwork, usually my photos, and designs on the CDs and handwritten tracklistings.” Jon sighed and set the broom against the wall. “Man. I miss doing that. I just might have to do that for you.”
It was so pathetic, but Spencer was touched by the thought of Jon putting all that time and effort into something for him, even if it was just a CD. “What kind of stuff did you put on those mixes?”
“Oh, you know. It was 2003. Lots of pop-punk. Emo stuff, but like, the pretty emo stuff?” Jon laughed. “I don’t know.”
Spencer snorted at that. “Pretty emo stuff.”
“Like what you were listening to in high school was so much better.”
“It was probably the exact same music,” Spencer admitted. “Although there was a lot of Blink 182.”
“I love Blink!” Jon said. “Dude Ranch was probably my favorite.”
“So many good songs. ‘Dammit.’ ‘Josie.’ ‘Lemmings.’” Spencer grinned. “Ryan and I were obsessed. I’m pretty sure Travis inspired me to start playing drums, even though I know he wasn’t on that album.”
Jon just beamed at him, and Spencer felt his face heat up. He looked away and gestured at the tables. “I should –“
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. We’re going to be here forever if we keep talking.” Jon waved his hand and said, “Thanks for helping. I’m sorry if you had stuff to do. I was only half-serious when I said the thing about you helping me. I wasn’t expecting you to stay.”
“Hey, no. Don’t worry about it.” Spencer gave him a big smile. “I got a lot of work done tonight. I don’t have anything else to do. Not much, anyway.”
“Okay.” Jon nodded. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to give you that mix the next time you stop in,” Jon said, and ridiculously enough, yet again something Jon said made Spencer’s insides go fluttery. He had to find a way of getting that under control.
After Spencer finished cleaning the last table, he found Jon in the stockroom, getting more paper cups out for the next day.
“Can I help you with anything else?” Spencer asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“Nah, I should be okay.” Jon picked up a stack of cups, then piled yet another stack in his arms. “You should go; it’s late.”
“If you need help …” Spencer said, and he reached for a stack of small cups because it looked like Jon had the medium ones.
Jon looked at him gratefully. “Thanks. And really, after this, you can go.”
They put out the cups, placing them near the syrups at the bar, and Jon took care of the cash drawer. Spencer knew he could go, but he wanted to stay. He just liked being around Jon. It was as simple as that. He didn’t want to leave because it meant leaving Jon and the warmth of the café for a walk home in the cold and another night spent alone in his front of his computer, finishing assignments until he wore himself out enough to go to bed.
While he waited for Jon to finish up in the back office, Spencer checked his phone for messages. Nothing. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that he’d known Jon for a few months now and they still hadn’t exchanged phone numbers. Weird. But maybe not so weird, because if he was remembering correctly, they were supposed to have boundaries.
Boundaries that had been all but erased over the past few weeks as they started to see each other more and more outside of class.
Boundaries that Spencer was pretty sure he wanted to obliterate.
Around midnight, Jon turned off the music and dimmed the lights. He came out from the office and locked the door behind him.
“Done,” he said. “Aren’t you glad you don’t have to do this every night?”
Jon and Spencer stood there in the faint light, in the quiet – it seemed so strange being there without the sounds of voices or music or the espresso machine – just looking at each other for a moment, until Jon broke the stare, looking toward the door.
Spencer wasn’t sure why, except that he wanted to, had wanted to for a long time. He reached out and gently touched Jon’s cheek, turning his face toward Spencer’s again.
“Hey,” Spencer said softly, and he closed the distance between them, kissing Jon.
Jon felt for him in the dark, pulling Spencer closer by grabbing fistfuls of his button-down shirt. They kept kissing, Jon’s hands wandering down the sides of Spencer’s body until they reached his waist. Spencer cupped Jon’s face with his hand, teasing him with his tongue and deepening the kiss.
They both pulled away at the same time, breathless. “I thought you swore you were never going to kiss me again,” Jon said with a little smile that hinted at his satisfaction. He slid a hand underneath Spencer’s shirt and rested it against his back. Spencer shivered at the touch.
“I lied,” Spencer said, and they kissed again, Jon backed up against the counter, Spencer’s hands now on his hips, holding him there. Jon made a noise in the back of his throat, and it had to be one of the hottest things Spencer had ever heard.
When they broke the kiss again, both struggling for air, Jon said, “I think I live closer,” and it took a second for it to dawn on Spencer: Oh. Jon nipped at Spencer’s lower lip, catching it between his teeth.
“Should we – I mean – I thought we agreed – “ Spencer said. His mind was completely gone, only able to focus on Jon, and Jon’s mouth, and how much he wanted him.
“Fuck it,” Jon said, almost growling out the words. “I don’t care, and you need to stop pretending that you do, too.”
It was true – Spencer hadn’t cared for a while. But, still. “I don’t want to ruin anything for you – or me – if someone finds out.”
“There isn’t a rule,” Jon said with certainty. “I checked.”
“You checked?”
Jon looked sheepish, avoiding Spencer’s gaze. “Yes. I wanted to make sure.” He made eye contact again and said, “I like you. And I didn’t want to fuck up anything for you, either.”
Spencer wasn’t sure what to say, so he just kissed him instead.
“We should probably get out of here,” Jon breathed against Spencer’s lips. “Come home with me.”
Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. It was the first time in his life anyone had ever said anything like that to him, the first time he hadn’t been slightly impaired when he was going to have sex, and the first time he’d felt something for the person he was going to sleep with.
It made him dizzy to think about.
“Okay,” Spencer said, and he kissed Jon again.
*
They went back to Jon’s apartment on his motorcycle, and they barely made it in the door before clothes were coming off. Jon steered them toward his bedroom, pushing Spencer against the door and kissing him desperately.
Trying to kiss while taking off their clothes wasn’t working out that well, so Spencer put a hand on Jon’s chest and said, “We should – clothes.”
Jon nodded and reluctantly pulled his mouth away from Spencer’s long enough to fumble his way out of his hoodie and t-shirt, throwing them on the floor. He started on his jeans, and Spencer watched from under heavy eyelids as he took off his own clothes. He wanted to touch all that skin, feel it against his. More than that, he wanted to feel Jon inside of him, moving with him, sending him over the edge.
Spencer tossed the last of his clothes to the floor, kicking aside his shirt and pants and shoes. He stood there naked, with Jon’s eyes hot on him, and Spencer stared straight back, taking in the lines of Jon’s body, the solidness of his bare chest and shoulders.
And it hit him then that yeah, they were going to do this. He took a shaky breath, and then he reached out for Jon, pulling him close, feeling the electricity and rush of their skin finally touching. He just wanted, more than he ever had before, and he tilted Jon’s chin up and kissed him.
They backed up toward the bed and fell onto it, laughing and shifting until they were more comfortable with Spencer on his back and Jon between his legs. Spencer felt Jon hard against him, and he bit his lip, moving so their cocks lined up. Spencer tilt his head back and groaned, rubbing his cock against Jon’s. God, he so wasn’t going to last long like this.
“Want me to fuck you?” Jon asked roughly, his lips moving against Spencer’s ear, then down his neck, kissing and licking his way to Spencer’s collarbone.
Spencer gasped, “Yes, yes, now, come on.”
Jon looked up from where he was kissing his way down Spencer’s chest, sliding down the length of his body. He moved so they were face-to-face again and placed his hands on either side of Spencer’s head, slowly rolling his hips.
“Now?” he asked, smirking. Spencer moaned and arched against him.
“Yes, now,” Spencer said impatiently. He appreciated that Jon wanted to do this slowly, that Jon seemed to like to tease and draw things out, and that he wanted to do things like put his mouth everywhere, but Spencer was too worked up and it had been too long. “We can take our time next time.”
Jon’s expression changed from a smirk to one of happiness and surprise. He kissed Spencer and reached for the lube and condoms in the nightstand. Slowly, he poured the lube over his fingers and then slid them in and out of Spencer, getting him ready and driving him thoroughly crazy in the process, until Spencer was sure he was going to come just from Jon’s fingers alone. It was only slightly disappointing when Jon took out all three fingers to open the condom.
He watched Jon put on the condom and slick himself up, and Spencer lifted his hips, winding his legs around Jon’s waist and bringing him close. “It’s been a while,” Spencer said quietly.
“Yeah, for me, too,” Jon said, and he kissed Spencer gently, like there was meaning behind it. Spencer slid his fingers through the curls at the nape of Jon’s neck, kissing him until Jon pulled away and asked, grinning, “You ready?”
“I have been.” Spencer grinned back, and Jon gave him one last, quick kiss before he lined himself up and pushed inside.
Spencer went breathless, rocking against him, wanting more. Jon went deeper, until Spencer was sure he couldn’t possibly go any further, but oh, fuck, he could, again and again. He worked his hips faster as they got closer, but he kept the same rhythm, and as Spencer pushed into it, Jon groaned deep in his throat. Spencer closed his eyes and dug his nails into Jon’s slick, sweaty shoulders, just holding on and letting every movement Jon made roll over him.
This was … different. It was intense in a way Spencer hadn’t anticipated; he didn’t have a reference point for it, nothing to compare it to because nothing really compared to the way Jon was so focused on him, kissing him while he moved in and out, working with Spencer to set a steady pace. Their bodies just fit. They made sense together. And that thought made Spencer shiver: that this was what he had been missing.
When Spencer opened his eyes again, Jon was looking right at him, and Spencer wrapped a hand around Jon’s neck and kissed him, slow and dirty and hot, until they had to pull apart for air.
Spencer slid his hand between them down to his cock, slick with pre-come, and started to work his fist up and down the shaft. Jon wrapped his hand around Spencer’s, jerking him off in time to every thrust, and Spencer screwed his eyes shut and cried out; it felt so good.
Their breaths came quick and fast, and Spencer moaned, “God, Jon, I’m –“ and suddenly shuddered as he came between them. He was still shaking a moment later when Jon followed, jerking his hips one last time and groaning out Spencer’s name.
Spencer really liked hearing Jon say his name like that. He sounded rough, exhausted and satisfied.
Jon collapsed on him, his face buried in Spencer’s neck. “I don’t think I can move,” he said, his voice muffled. He was trembling.
“Yes, you can. Come on, I’m gross.” Spencer stroked his hands up and down Jon’s back and laughed into his hair.
Jon managed to lift himself up and slide out. He rolled onto his back and glanced over at Spencer. He was breathing hard, and Spencer watched his chest rise and fall.
“Yeah, definitely a next time,” Spencer said, and he raised his head to give Jon a quick kiss.
Jon smiled against his mouth and made a little noise of agreement. He curled up on his side and said, sounding tired but happy, “I was not expecting this to happen tonight.”
“Me, either.”
He mouthed at Spencer’s neck. “Tell me when you’re ready for round two.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and gave Jon’s shoulder an affectionate shove. “So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?”
“I’m what would be described as ‘insatiable.’”
“And I’m what would be described as ‘exhausted.’” Then, considering, Spencer smiled. “But I might be a little insatiable, too. Mostly exhausted, though.”
“Here, come clean up with me,” Jon said, and he got out of bed, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash. He held out his hand, and Spencer took it. “Bathroom’s right next door.”
Somehow, “come clean up with me” turned into “oh, the shower’s right there” which turned into Jon pressing Spencer against the tiles and giving him what was possibly the greatest blowjob of all time. It was also the first time Spencer had kissed Jon in decent lighting, had been able to pull away and see the lighter flecks of brown in Jon’s eyes and the way his lips were pink and a little swollen.
The steam rose up around them and Jon rested his forehead against Spencer’s. “Sleep?”
Spencer laughed. “Not here.”
“Of course not here.” Jon looked tired. He felt tired, too, heaviness in his body as he leaned against Spencer.
Spencer gently pushed Jon away so he could turn off the water. “Guess you’re not so insatiable now. Come on. Bed.”
They got into bed with their hair still damp from the shower, and Jon nestled up to Spencer’s side and fell asleep almost immediately.
After five minutes of lying there with a warm, sleeping Jon against him, Spencer still couldn’t rest. His phone was in his pants, and he wasn’t sure where his pants were. Near the front door? Or had he taken them off in the bedroom?
He was pretty sure his laptop was still in the case on the back of Jon’s motorcycle. He had to be at work in about eight hours. He had Jon’s class tomorrow night – well, it was technically Friday since it was two in the morning, so tonight? And how the hell was he supposed to deal with that? Looking at Jon at the front of the classroom, thinking, “I’m sleeping with him.” Or “slept with him.” Because whatever happened could have just been a one-time thing, no matter how many times they’d said there would be a next time.
Something told Spencer it wasn’t a one-night stand, though. His heart started to beat faster. He’d never had a boyfriend before. He’d never been in a serious relationship. He didn’t even know if he and Jon would end up in a serious relationship, but fuck, what if they did? And this had nothing to do with Jon’s teaching, because in about a month and a half, Jon would no longer be his teacher.
Jon sighed in his sleep. Spencer didn’t want to leave, not even to try to find his pants and his phone. He wanted to stay. And that’s what scared him the most.
*
At 8:30 the next morning, Spencer’s alarm started to go off.
“Mmph,” he said, not opening his eyes and reaching out an arm to find the phone. Instead he found Jon and a fistful of dark hair.
“What? What’s that sound and why are you pulling my hair?” Jon asked sleepily.
Spencer let go of Jon’s hair. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room and sat up. “My phone.” He looked around Jon’s bedroom, which was completely different now that it was flooded with sunlight. He saw his pants over by the door, and reached for his boxers by the side of the bed before he went over there to fish the phone out of the pocket.
He turned off the offending alarm and gave Jon an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
Jon rolled over, burrowing into the blankets. “D’you have to work?”
“Yeah. So I – I should probably get going.”
“You should stay here instead.” Jon closed his eyes and patted the empty side of the bed.
He was really cute when he was sleepy. And the offer was quite tempting. More sleep, more Jon, possibly more sex…
“I can’t.” Spencer started to pull on his clothes from last night, collecting them from all over the room. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”
Jon groaned and sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “Well, at least let me make you some coffee.”
“I – I need my computer, too; I think it’s outside.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of anything else he needed. “In the back of your motorcycle.”
“I’ll get it.” Jon slid out of bed. He was naked, and the back of Spencer’s neck got all hot and prickly at the brief sight of all that skin. Jon tugged on his boxers and a t-shirt. “I’ll start the coffee first.” He padded out to the kitchen and the coffee machine, stretching as he went.
Spencer wondered exactly when this had become his life.
Twenty minutes later, he was again in possession of his laptop, and he had a delicious mug of coffee in front of him. Jon leaned against the kitchen counter, still in his t-shirt and boxers with his hair sticking up and circles under his eyes.
“I’m not much of a morning person,” Jon said, sipping his coffee from a Chicago Bears mug. “It takes a couple cups of coffee and a shower before I’m fully awake.”
“Sorry for waking you up. I didn’t mean to grab your hair.” Spencer looked down at his coffee and stirred the spoon.
Jon laughed and ducked his head to kiss him. “It’s okay.”
Spencer pulled him in for a longer kiss, because he could do that now. Jon kissed him back, slow, hot, and wet, the kind of kiss that lingered, that Spencer would be thinking about for the rest of the day.
“Okay,” Spencer said, pulling away but not far enough, “I need to go.”
Jon kissed him one more time. “I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks for the coffee.” Spencer got up and grabbed his computer bag.
“At this point, I think you should hire me as your personal coffee maker.”
“I could never afford to pay you.”
“I could think of ways.” Jon raised an eyebrow and then took a drink.
Spencer blushed; he did a lot of that around Jon. He had never done it that much in his life, what the fuck. “Sex for coffee?”
“I think it’s an even trade.”
God, Spencer wanted to fuck him again, right there in the kitchen. The lazy, sleepy, sexy thing worked really well for him.
“Um, it’s getting late.” Spencer headed for the door before he did anything else. Although … if he went to work, he’d sit in that fucking office all day thinking about the next time he could get in bed with Jon.
Who was still standing in the kitchen, looking at Spencer like he wanted him right then and there.
“Actually, I think I’m going to call in sick.” Spencer got out his phone and dialed the office number. He spoke to someone in the office who “Aww”-ed and asked him how he was feeling, and he managed to hang up feeling like he’d convinced her that he was really sick.
They were on their way back to the bedroom before Spencer could put his phone away. His clothes were off again pretty quickly, too, and so were Jon’s, even though Jon had considerably less to take off.
Spencer pushed Jon onto the bed, and Jon’s eyes got wide as Spencer straddled him. “Now,” Spencer said roughly.
Jon reached for the lube and condoms, and they were moving so fast that his fingers probably weren’t enough to get Spencer ready. Spencer knew it wasn’t going to be that comfortable, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get fucked.
“Fuck,” Spencer said, pushing against Jon’s slick fingers, raising himself up on his knees. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands into Jon’s hips. He threw his head back and said, “Jon, now. Please.”
He felt Jon’s fingers slide out, and he opened his eyes to watch Jon put on the condom. He was gorgeous with his hair tousled and his mouth shiny and wet. Spencer wanted to watch him like this forever, touching himself.
“I’m ready when you are,” Jon said, lining himself up with Spencer, who didn’t exactly take his time sliding down onto Jon’s cock. It wasn’t the best feeling at first, but slowly he started to rock his hips as he got used to Jon inside him.
“You look so fucking hot right now,” Jon gasped, tilting his body up to meet Spencer’s rhythm. “God, Spencer, you feel good.”
Jon tugged on Spencer’s hair and their mouths came crashing together, a moan muffled by the kiss.
They kept going, and Spencer knew he was getting close already. He took his own cock in his hand, working his fist up and down. He rode Jon harder and faster, until he suddenly let go completely, shaking and coming over Jon’s chest and stomach.
Jon came with a sharp sound, his body going still and his mouth pressed against Spencer’s neck. Carefully, he slid out of Spencer and got rid of the condom. Afterward they just stayed sprawled on the bed, exhausted and trying to get their breathing back to normal.
“That was worth missing work for,” Spencer said. He felt an ache all over, and he knew he’d be feeling it even more later on in the day. But for now, he didn’t care.
“I’d have to agree.” Jon rested his head on Spencer’s chest. “If you want to skip work every day so we could do that, I’d be totally fine with your decision.”
Spencer stretched out, feeling the soreness in his muscles a little bit more. “If I didn’t have to pay rent, I might.”
“Promise me we can do this again, and I’ll give you free coffee for the rest of your life.”
“Rest of my life? That’s a pretty tempting offer. But I’m not that easily bribed.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jon rolled over on his side so he could look directly at Spencer. “I thought you’d do anything for coffee.”
“Actually, you don’t even have to bribe me. Not for that.”
Jon held the side of Spencer’s face in his hand and kissed him softly. “Can I convince you to have breakfast with me, though?”
“I need a shower first.”
“After a shower?”
“Yes. As long as there’s bacon, I’m there.”
“I know a great place,” Jon said. “Best bacon ever.”
“It better hold up to that level of greatness, or else I’m going to get pissed at you for making me leave this bed.”
“You have to get up sometime.” Jon lay on his back now and stretched his arms over his head. Spencer was transfixed by his body. Everything about it, from his arms to his stomach to his cock. It was a problem, because if he kept staring, he was never going to move.
His stomach growled. Fuck it. Spencer groaned and rolled out of bed. “Food wins,” he said.
“It’ll be worth it, I promise.” Jon got up, too, with considerably less effort, and followed Spencer into the bathroom. He reached for Spencer’s hand and said, “Hey.”
“Hm?”
“I just – it feels like I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” Jon looked right in his eyes, so unbelievably earnest and fucking perfect that Spencer’s stomach flipped.
“Yeah, me too,” Spencer said, and he didn’t care how saccharine the moment was, he loved having Jon look at him like that and say that to him. It freaked him out a little bit, too, but he ignored that part.
He got into the shower with Jon, and as they kissed under the water, Spencer thought, Yes, this and forgot about everything else.
*
Spencer skipped Intro to Photography that night. First of all, he fell asleep as soon as he came home later that morning (after Brendon had given him a high-five when he found out where Spencer was coming from and who he’d been with) and didn’t wake up until twenty minutes before class was supposed to start. Anyway, it was probably for the best because he was supposed to be sick, and he didn’t want to run into anyone from the liberal arts office in the hallway. More than that, though, he wasn’t sure what to do about Jon.
If he wanted to be an adult, he could have quickly grabbed his stuff and headed to campus. He could have handled sitting in Jon’s class. He could have dealt with the fact that they’d had sex and Jon had talked about waiting for Spencer. He could have acted like nothing had happened, like it was just class as usual. But that would have been too easy and too mature.
Instead he sat at home, wondering if he should ask Ryan for Jon’s number because seriously, they’d slept together, Spencer should have his phone number by now. But he was too chicken to ask Ryan, or, god forbid, actually ask Jon. Or even see Jon, or talk to him, or show up to his class.
Fucking shit.
He was an idiot. And he knew he shouldn’t be beating himself up, but he just didn’t know how to deal with this.
He called Ryan.
“Hi,” Spencer said. “Listen, do you have Jon’s number?”
“You still don’t have it?” Ryan sounded like he was shuffling through papers. “You guys must suck at communication.”
“Probably on more than one level.”
“What do you mean?”
And Spencer spilled the story about sleeping with Jon and skipping class and feeling like an idiot because now that he’d had time to think, he didn’t know how to deal with their having had sex or how he was maybe, possibly in love.
“For the love of god, just give him a call,” Ryan said. He rattled off the number, and Spencer scribbled it on the nearest piece of paper he could find, which happened to be a take-out menu.
He was going to call Jon. Just as soon as he got his head together.
*
In the meantime, Spencer spent his weekend doing work, as usual. He sometimes wrote for the college’s newspaper, and the editor e-mailed him asking if he could do a quick write-up on “any cool places near campus that students would be interested in.” She was e-mailing several writers, trying to compile enough copy to turn into a feature. She was “desperate” because someone else had missed a deadline, so Spencer said yes.
He wrote 300 words about The Daily Grind. He wrote about the delicious coffee and excellent atmosphere and music. (He left out the part about the hot baristas.) He even had a picture he’d taken to attach to the story – sure, he’d taken it with his phone, but his phone had a nice camera and the quality wouldn’t be that great anyway once it went to press.
As he attached the document to an e-mail, he wondered if Jon would see the article and if he’d notice Spencer’s byline.
He wondered if Jon was wondering about him, about why he hadn’t been there on Friday night. Probably not. Jon was normal; he wasn’t going to think about something like that.
Anyway, it had only been a day. There was no cause for alarm yet. He had Jon’s number now, and he realized he also had his e-mail. He had ways to get in touch with him. He just had to think about it first.
*
They hadn’t seen each other in a week and a half, and Spencer knew he had to go to class on Friday. He couldn’t skip again or points would start coming off. So Spencer chose what he thought was neutral ground on which to see Jon: the coffee shop.
He walked in, and it was the same as it always was. Only it was a Wednesday afternoon and Jon wasn’t there. He always worked Wednesdays.
“He switched shifts with someone,” Greta said once he got up to the register. Spencer hadn’t even asked where Jon was.
“How’d you know –“
“Because you always come in for him.” Greta shrugged and marked Spencer’s cup.
Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t come in just for Jon, there was the coffee, too, but – oh, whatever. Jon was the main reason. He wasn’t fooling anyone.
“We saw the story in the paper, by the way,” she said. “That was nice.”
“My editor just e-mailed me last minute about it; it wasn’t a big thing –“
“We’ve been getting some more business.” She smiled. “Every little bit helps. At least now you truly deserve your honor of having a chair named for you.”
Spencer narrowed his eyes. Jon had told people about that?
He paid for his coffee and was about to step aside, but Greta stopped him.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, reaching under the counter. She produced a CD in a paper sleeve with writing on the back. “Jon said to give this to you if you came in.”
The mix. Jon had still made him the mix.
“Thanks.” Spencer took the CD and turned it over to read the handwritten tracklisting. There was a note inside the sleeve, written on a yellow Post-It with permanent marker:
I don’t know what’s going on lately, but I still wanted to make this for you because I promised. Call me if you get a chance.
Underneath was Jon’s number and his signature. Spencer blinked at the note a few times and read it again. His heart started to pound. He was such an immature asshole for letting his own insecurities get in the way of something great.
As he left the shop, he passed by his chair. There was a sign on it in plain white paper that said, “Spencer Smith Chair. OFF LIMITS!!! RESERVED.” It was obviously in Jon’s handwriting, and it was one of the more amusing things Spencer had seen in a long, long time. At first he wanted to laugh, but then his stomach dropped and he got a lump in his throat. He stood there and stared at the chair, his head spinning. Jon had actually reserved his chair. It wasn’t just a joke.
What was Spencer doing? How could he possibly avoid a man who had named a chair after him, made him a mix CD, and kept him in free coffee, who also happened to be really great at sex?
He walked outside and dialed Jon’s number. He’d had it saved since Ryan gave it to him, but now Jon had given it to him, too. He didn’t have an excuse anymore not to call.
“Hello?” Jon answered on the third ring.
“It’s Spencer. I’m sorry –“
“I know.”
“I really don’t have an excuse. I just freaked out.”
“I don’t – why? Did I offend you? Did I do something?”
“No, no. I have issues. Like. There’s no way for this not to sound lame, but like I said, I was freaking out.”
“Over what?”
Spencer paused, and he winced as he said, “Sleeping with you.”
Jon was quiet. “I don’t get it.”
“I just –“ Spencer sighed in frustration. “I have zero experience in this department –“
Jon made a surprised noise on the other end.
“No, I don’t mean – god, Jon, that was not my first time, Jesus Christ. I mean I have no experience with actually talking to someone after sex. I’ve only hooked up with people, I’ve never had anything serious; I’ve never had a boyfriend, not that you’re my boyfriend.” He was just spewing words now, and Jon probably thought he was a nutcase. He wasn’t. Jon just made him act that way sometimes.
“Is there anything I can do?” Jon asked, sounding doubtful.
“I don’t know. You’re probably regretting this right now. I swear usually I’m not this, uh. Weird about stuff.”
“You’re not weird. And I don’t regret it at all.”
“I don’t, either.”
“Good,” Jon said.
“Maybe we … maybe we need to step back for a little bit,” Spencer said. He tried to choose his words very carefully.
“It happened kind of fast.”
“So. The semester ends in three weeks. Maybe we should wait until then.”
“Why then?” Jon asked.
“Because then I won’t be one of your students anymore. Because this is weird because of that, too. I skipped class because I was worried about what it would be like.”
“I don’t want you to skip class. It’s not – if you think I’d treat you any differently, I wouldn’t.”
“It’s not even that. It’s just the awkwardness.” Spencer laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sort of laughter. “I’m new at this. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Jon paused. “I’ll be waiting. And you can still come and get coffee from me.”
“Okay. Um. Thanks.”
After a short silence, they abruptly, awkwardly said goodbye, and Spencer hung up.
*
He opened the mix CD when he came home. Jon had drawn little cartoon cats all over the actual disc, and they had speech bubbles that said, “A mix for Spencer from Jon.” It was one of the weirdest and corniest yet loveliest things anyone had ever made for him.
Spencer slid the disc into his computer and put on his headphones. Even though the song titles showed up on his screen, he followed along with Jon’s handwritten tracklisting. As he went through each song, he realized: holy shit, it was their soundtrack. Every song had been something he’d heard in the shop and commented on, saying he liked it, or it was a song they’d talked about. Jon had even thrown some Blink 182 and Semisonic on the mix.
He sat there and listened to the whole thing all the way through. Then he copied the songs onto his iPod and went for a long walk around the neighborhood listening to it again, all forty-five minutes of it, all the way through to the end, which was a slow acoustic song about waiting for love. That one actually made his head and heart hurt.
The weather was getting colder, and by the time Spencer got back to his apartment, his cheeks were numb from the wind. It was already dark outside even though it was only six o’clock, and all of a sudden he was so tired. He was tired of thinking too much about things, tired of avoiding a real shot at happiness, but most of all he was tired of himself and just missed Jon.
He’d never felt as good as he did when they were together, when they just bantering back and forth and hanging out. He didn’t even need to have Jon physically; he just wanted to talk to him, even if they talked about nothing at all.
Spencer got in bed and huddled under the blankets. He fell asleep with his clothes still on and didn’t bother to turn off the light.
*
When he woke up early the next morning, Brendon was in the kitchen, looking concerned.
“Are you sick?”
Spencer rubbed his eyes. “No. I just fell asleep really early last night.”
Brendon bit his lip and busied himself by pouring bowls of cereal for the both of them. “You haven’t seemed as happy lately.”
Spencer might as well get it out there. “I kind of screwed things up a little bit. I let myself get too … mixed up in the head, and. Yeah.”
Brendon didn’t say anything. He just hugged him. Spencer hadn’t been hugged in a long time, and it felt good. He didn’t need Brendon to say anything.
*
Spencer went to Jon’s class on Friday, and Jon was right, it wasn’t any different. It wasn’t awkward. He sat in his usual seat toward the back of the room and took notes on his laptop like he always did. He just tried not to focus on Jon in his red shirt with the sleeves rolled up. As long as Spencer didn’t look, he was fine.
At the end of class, Jon passed out a document that laid out the format for the final project, and Spencer flipped through it, skimming the pages. He looked up again when Jon started to speak, and it was ridiculous, but just the sound of Jon’s voice hit him in the gut, even if all Jon was talking about were project requirements.
“So, as a favor to you guys, I’m going to give you the next two weeks off from class to put everything together,” Jon said. “But if anyone wants to come here during class time to ask questions or do some work, I’ll be here.”
Class ended, and Spencer tried his best to slip away unnoticed, which was completely immature, but he was great at avoiding confrontation.
As Spencer left, Jon looked up from where he was putting away his computer and notes to say, “Hey, good luck on the project.”
Spencer stepped aside to let other people walk past him and said, “Thanks.”
“If I can help, let me know.”
“I will.” Spencer came closer to him; Jon smelled really good, and he looked really good, and it was hard not to kiss him right then and there. “Uh, by the way, I loved the mix.”
Jon grinned. “I’m glad.”
“I’ve been listening to it a lot.” He added, quickly, “Anyway, I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you.” Jon picked up his bag. “Maybe for coffee?”
“It’s the end of the semester, and I’ve been busy with stuff,” Spencer said, and it was half-true. “Haven’t had too much time to stop in.”
“Okay.” Jon nodded. “I’ll still talk to you soon, though.”
Spencer stuck his hands in his pockets, trying to think of ways to end the conversation without blurting out I think I’m falling in love with you and I’m sorry for being such a failure at communicating like adults but Jon ended it for him with a weak smile and a “Have a good night.”
Spencer walked to his car alone.
*
There was a week left of their self-imposed hiatus, but Spencer couldn’t take it anymore. He had been avoiding the coffee shop, and after so many of Jon’s delicious lattes, his coffee at home or at Starbucks just didn’t compare. He was having withdrawals because he missed Jon’s coffee so much, and he missed hanging out in his chair with his laptop. He missed the atmosphere. He missed the music. But mostly he missed Jon.
His life just didn’t feel right without Jon in it.
It was the first week of December, and when Spencer stepped inside The Daily Grind, it was like Christmas had exploded all over the place – Jon’s handiwork, Spencer was sure. There were little snowflakes and snowmen stuck to the windows; a tree with ornaments, lights, and tinsel right next to Spencer’s chair; and Charlie Brown Christmas was playing.
He knew Jon was probably working; it was a Tuesday evening. When he walked in, though, Jon wasn’t behind the counter – Tom was. Spencer’s stomach instantly dropped as he approached.
“Hey, Spencer,” Tom greeted him.
“Uh.” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, nervous. “Is Jon here?”
“Yeah, he’s in the break room. Are you here to see him? Because all he’s doing anymore is talking about how much he misses you.”
“He’s been talking about me?”
Tom looked at Spencer like he was crazy. “That’s all he ever does. I swear I’ve never seen two people so inept at dealing with each other in my entire life. What kind of people finally get together and then go over a week without speaking or seeing each other? What is up with that?”
This rant consisted of more words than Spencer had ever heard Tom speak before. He was obviously very passionate about the subject. Spencer just stared at him in disbelief. His life had turned into some kind of weird sitcom.
“Let me get him for you.” Tom left to find Jon, and a minute later, Jon appeared. He was wearing a navy blue sweater with silhouettes of white reindeer on the front.
Oh, dear god. He really did love Christmas.
Jon’s mouth opened in surprise. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Spencer said. “Can we talk?”
Jon nodded, and he walked around the counter. He led them to a table in the corner and they sat down.
“I know it hasn’t been three weeks yet,” Spencer said, “but I was stupid.”
“Spencer, you’re not –“
Spencer held up a hand. “Look, I was scared. But I was stupid.” He took a deep breath. “You’re funny and kind of an idiot sometimes, and you have good taste in music, and you’re pretty awesome in other areas, too, and it freaked me out. That someone like you liked someone like me. I’ve never had that before.”
“You’re kind of an idiot sometimes, too,” Jon said. “But I love that about you.”
Spencer started to smile. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Feel free to go on and tell me the other things you enjoy about me,” Spencer said, playfully pushing his foot against Jon’s under the table.
“Well, that’s a pretty long list,” Jon said, and he tilted his head to the side, considering. “I have more fun talking to you than I do anyone else. You have a great smile. You get this look on your face when you’re concentrating on something on your computer screen, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s kind of funny.” He drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “I could go on.”
Spencer opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Jon knocked his foot against Spencer’s again. “Why do you think I said I’d wait for you?”
Spencer beamed, and he said, “I don’t care that you like Christmas sweaters or draw cats on mix CDs or that I thought you were an ass when I first met you. I don’t think you’re an ass anymore.”
Jon leaned back in his chair. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Spencer laughed and said, fondly, “Fuck you.”
“Yeah, I’m totally falling for you, too. By the way …” He pointed at a piece of mistletoe hanging on the wall near the table.
Spencer followed the direction of Jon’s finger. “Huh?” He squinted at the mistletoe for a moment before he realized what it was.
“I think you’re required by law to kiss me now.”
“Oh, and what law is that?”
Jon paused for effect. “The law of Christmas.”
Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes. “You know you’re a giant dork, right?”
“Shut up,” Jon said with a gleam in his eye. “You can add that to the list of reasons why you like me so much.”
“Who ever said I liked you?” Spencer teased, and he leaned across the table to give Jon a kiss.
*
I uploaded the mix Jon made for Spencer here. ♥
Click here for Part Two
Spencer started to spend most of his evenings at the coffee shop, working on his laptop. The chairs were comfortable, the music was good, and the coffee was just the right amount of strong and sweet. And Jon was right: they did have the most attractive baristas in town.
He liked being surrounded by all of the people in the shop, letting himself get lost in his work and coming to hours later, his brain shocked and overloaded by all the noise around him and how he’d managed to tune it out.
The shop closed at eleven, and Spencer liked seeing it empty out, too. Usually he’d leave before the place closed, around 10:30, but on this particular night he got distracted by an op-ed piece he was writing for class and ended up sticking around until eleven.
Jon appeared from behind the counter and said, “You’re not even paying attention, are you?”
Spencer looked up from his computer. “Huh?”
“Listen.” So Spencer listened, and Jon, the dork that he was, was playing “Closing Time.”
“That,” Jon said, “means it’s time to close.”
Spencer laughed. “You could just kick my ass out. You don’t have to send me messages through the music.”
“Closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end,” Jon sang as he grabbed a broom and started to sweep the floor. Even though it wasn’t that strong, he had a nice singing voice.
Spencer continued to put the finishing touches on his article, and Jon stopped in front of him, one hand on the broom and the other on his hip. He looked down at Spencer and raised an eyebrow. “Smith, are you gonna help me or just sit there looking good?”
“What?” Spencer knew what he heard, though: Jon thought he looked good. He smiled to himself, very self-satisfied. “I wasn’t aware I was supposed to help.”
Jon threw him a rag. “You can wipe off tables.”
Spencer caught the rag and closed the lid on his laptop. “Sure. I don’t know why they have you close by yourself. You have so much stuff to do.” He got to his feet, feeling the ache in his arms and legs from sitting in one place for so long.
“I can manage, but you’re here, so.” Jon raised an eyebrow, almost daring him to say no.
“So you’re going to put me to work,” Spencer said, crossing his arms over his chest. Immediately Jon’s focus went to Spencer’s arms before, quickly, he looked in his eyes again. “I see.”
Jon laughed. “You use our wi-fi. You drink our coffee. You not-so-subtly check out a certain barista from time to time. You owe it to us.”
“I thought I was extremely subtle. And who would that certain barista be?” Spencer teased. “He could learn a thing about subtlety.”
“He probably could,” Jon said, “but he has too much fun seeing you get riled up.”
“Is that what it’s about? Seeing me get ‘riled up’?” Spencer put his laptop in its bag and set it on the chair.
Jon pursed his lips. “Not really. Maybe this certain barista just likes you.” He walked over to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign from “Open” to “Closed.” He looked over his shoulder, gauging what kind of reaction his words were going to get out of Spencer.
He wasn’t going to get one. Spencer said nothing, choosing instead to focus on wiping down the tables as quickly as possible. For anyone else, he wouldn’t have done this, but Jon had been there for probably eight or more hours, and he had to close by himself. Spencer knew he was tired, and he wanted to help him get home faster.
As Jon moved around the store, sweeping up crumbs and throwing away stray napkins and coffee cups, he sang along to the music, so softly Spencer had to strain to hear. The song changed over to Best Coast. This place had acquainted Spencer with that band very well, and he recognized them from the “Boyfriend” song he’d heard what felt like ages ago at Ryan and Z’s.
“Maybe I’m just crazy, crazy for you, baby,” Jon sang, and Spencer had to smile.
“Is the music from your personal collection?” Spencer asked.
Jon seemed startled by the interruption. “Yeah, we’re allowed to hook up our iPods to the stereo system. Most of the time, whatever you hear is mine.”
“I like it,” Spencer said. “Not just this song, I mean. I like everything I’ve heard here.”
“I’ll have to make you a mix!” Jon said excitedly, and then he laughed. “Is mix-making a lost art form? It feels like no one makes mix CDs anymore. It’s becoming obsolete.”
“I would love a mix.”
“Really?”
“Are you okay with not having artwork?”
Spencer laughed. “Yeah. I don’t need artwork.”
“I used to – in high school – make these really elaborate mixes for my friends with artwork, usually my photos, and designs on the CDs and handwritten tracklistings.” Jon sighed and set the broom against the wall. “Man. I miss doing that. I just might have to do that for you.”
It was so pathetic, but Spencer was touched by the thought of Jon putting all that time and effort into something for him, even if it was just a CD. “What kind of stuff did you put on those mixes?”
“Oh, you know. It was 2003. Lots of pop-punk. Emo stuff, but like, the pretty emo stuff?” Jon laughed. “I don’t know.”
Spencer snorted at that. “Pretty emo stuff.”
“Like what you were listening to in high school was so much better.”
“It was probably the exact same music,” Spencer admitted. “Although there was a lot of Blink 182.”
“I love Blink!” Jon said. “Dude Ranch was probably my favorite.”
“So many good songs. ‘Dammit.’ ‘Josie.’ ‘Lemmings.’” Spencer grinned. “Ryan and I were obsessed. I’m pretty sure Travis inspired me to start playing drums, even though I know he wasn’t on that album.”
Jon just beamed at him, and Spencer felt his face heat up. He looked away and gestured at the tables. “I should –“
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. We’re going to be here forever if we keep talking.” Jon waved his hand and said, “Thanks for helping. I’m sorry if you had stuff to do. I was only half-serious when I said the thing about you helping me. I wasn’t expecting you to stay.”
“Hey, no. Don’t worry about it.” Spencer gave him a big smile. “I got a lot of work done tonight. I don’t have anything else to do. Not much, anyway.”
“Okay.” Jon nodded. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to give you that mix the next time you stop in,” Jon said, and ridiculously enough, yet again something Jon said made Spencer’s insides go fluttery. He had to find a way of getting that under control.
After Spencer finished cleaning the last table, he found Jon in the stockroom, getting more paper cups out for the next day.
“Can I help you with anything else?” Spencer asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“Nah, I should be okay.” Jon picked up a stack of cups, then piled yet another stack in his arms. “You should go; it’s late.”
“If you need help …” Spencer said, and he reached for a stack of small cups because it looked like Jon had the medium ones.
Jon looked at him gratefully. “Thanks. And really, after this, you can go.”
They put out the cups, placing them near the syrups at the bar, and Jon took care of the cash drawer. Spencer knew he could go, but he wanted to stay. He just liked being around Jon. It was as simple as that. He didn’t want to leave because it meant leaving Jon and the warmth of the café for a walk home in the cold and another night spent alone in his front of his computer, finishing assignments until he wore himself out enough to go to bed.
While he waited for Jon to finish up in the back office, Spencer checked his phone for messages. Nothing. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that he’d known Jon for a few months now and they still hadn’t exchanged phone numbers. Weird. But maybe not so weird, because if he was remembering correctly, they were supposed to have boundaries.
Boundaries that had been all but erased over the past few weeks as they started to see each other more and more outside of class.
Boundaries that Spencer was pretty sure he wanted to obliterate.
Around midnight, Jon turned off the music and dimmed the lights. He came out from the office and locked the door behind him.
“Done,” he said. “Aren’t you glad you don’t have to do this every night?”
Jon and Spencer stood there in the faint light, in the quiet – it seemed so strange being there without the sounds of voices or music or the espresso machine – just looking at each other for a moment, until Jon broke the stare, looking toward the door.
Spencer wasn’t sure why, except that he wanted to, had wanted to for a long time. He reached out and gently touched Jon’s cheek, turning his face toward Spencer’s again.
“Hey,” Spencer said softly, and he closed the distance between them, kissing Jon.
Jon felt for him in the dark, pulling Spencer closer by grabbing fistfuls of his button-down shirt. They kept kissing, Jon’s hands wandering down the sides of Spencer’s body until they reached his waist. Spencer cupped Jon’s face with his hand, teasing him with his tongue and deepening the kiss.
They both pulled away at the same time, breathless. “I thought you swore you were never going to kiss me again,” Jon said with a little smile that hinted at his satisfaction. He slid a hand underneath Spencer’s shirt and rested it against his back. Spencer shivered at the touch.
“I lied,” Spencer said, and they kissed again, Jon backed up against the counter, Spencer’s hands now on his hips, holding him there. Jon made a noise in the back of his throat, and it had to be one of the hottest things Spencer had ever heard.
When they broke the kiss again, both struggling for air, Jon said, “I think I live closer,” and it took a second for it to dawn on Spencer: Oh. Jon nipped at Spencer’s lower lip, catching it between his teeth.
“Should we – I mean – I thought we agreed – “ Spencer said. His mind was completely gone, only able to focus on Jon, and Jon’s mouth, and how much he wanted him.
“Fuck it,” Jon said, almost growling out the words. “I don’t care, and you need to stop pretending that you do, too.”
It was true – Spencer hadn’t cared for a while. But, still. “I don’t want to ruin anything for you – or me – if someone finds out.”
“There isn’t a rule,” Jon said with certainty. “I checked.”
“You checked?”
Jon looked sheepish, avoiding Spencer’s gaze. “Yes. I wanted to make sure.” He made eye contact again and said, “I like you. And I didn’t want to fuck up anything for you, either.”
Spencer wasn’t sure what to say, so he just kissed him instead.
“We should probably get out of here,” Jon breathed against Spencer’s lips. “Come home with me.”
Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. It was the first time in his life anyone had ever said anything like that to him, the first time he hadn’t been slightly impaired when he was going to have sex, and the first time he’d felt something for the person he was going to sleep with.
It made him dizzy to think about.
“Okay,” Spencer said, and he kissed Jon again.
*
They went back to Jon’s apartment on his motorcycle, and they barely made it in the door before clothes were coming off. Jon steered them toward his bedroom, pushing Spencer against the door and kissing him desperately.
Trying to kiss while taking off their clothes wasn’t working out that well, so Spencer put a hand on Jon’s chest and said, “We should – clothes.”
Jon nodded and reluctantly pulled his mouth away from Spencer’s long enough to fumble his way out of his hoodie and t-shirt, throwing them on the floor. He started on his jeans, and Spencer watched from under heavy eyelids as he took off his own clothes. He wanted to touch all that skin, feel it against his. More than that, he wanted to feel Jon inside of him, moving with him, sending him over the edge.
Spencer tossed the last of his clothes to the floor, kicking aside his shirt and pants and shoes. He stood there naked, with Jon’s eyes hot on him, and Spencer stared straight back, taking in the lines of Jon’s body, the solidness of his bare chest and shoulders.
And it hit him then that yeah, they were going to do this. He took a shaky breath, and then he reached out for Jon, pulling him close, feeling the electricity and rush of their skin finally touching. He just wanted, more than he ever had before, and he tilted Jon’s chin up and kissed him.
They backed up toward the bed and fell onto it, laughing and shifting until they were more comfortable with Spencer on his back and Jon between his legs. Spencer felt Jon hard against him, and he bit his lip, moving so their cocks lined up. Spencer tilt his head back and groaned, rubbing his cock against Jon’s. God, he so wasn’t going to last long like this.
“Want me to fuck you?” Jon asked roughly, his lips moving against Spencer’s ear, then down his neck, kissing and licking his way to Spencer’s collarbone.
Spencer gasped, “Yes, yes, now, come on.”
Jon looked up from where he was kissing his way down Spencer’s chest, sliding down the length of his body. He moved so they were face-to-face again and placed his hands on either side of Spencer’s head, slowly rolling his hips.
“Now?” he asked, smirking. Spencer moaned and arched against him.
“Yes, now,” Spencer said impatiently. He appreciated that Jon wanted to do this slowly, that Jon seemed to like to tease and draw things out, and that he wanted to do things like put his mouth everywhere, but Spencer was too worked up and it had been too long. “We can take our time next time.”
Jon’s expression changed from a smirk to one of happiness and surprise. He kissed Spencer and reached for the lube and condoms in the nightstand. Slowly, he poured the lube over his fingers and then slid them in and out of Spencer, getting him ready and driving him thoroughly crazy in the process, until Spencer was sure he was going to come just from Jon’s fingers alone. It was only slightly disappointing when Jon took out all three fingers to open the condom.
He watched Jon put on the condom and slick himself up, and Spencer lifted his hips, winding his legs around Jon’s waist and bringing him close. “It’s been a while,” Spencer said quietly.
“Yeah, for me, too,” Jon said, and he kissed Spencer gently, like there was meaning behind it. Spencer slid his fingers through the curls at the nape of Jon’s neck, kissing him until Jon pulled away and asked, grinning, “You ready?”
“I have been.” Spencer grinned back, and Jon gave him one last, quick kiss before he lined himself up and pushed inside.
Spencer went breathless, rocking against him, wanting more. Jon went deeper, until Spencer was sure he couldn’t possibly go any further, but oh, fuck, he could, again and again. He worked his hips faster as they got closer, but he kept the same rhythm, and as Spencer pushed into it, Jon groaned deep in his throat. Spencer closed his eyes and dug his nails into Jon’s slick, sweaty shoulders, just holding on and letting every movement Jon made roll over him.
This was … different. It was intense in a way Spencer hadn’t anticipated; he didn’t have a reference point for it, nothing to compare it to because nothing really compared to the way Jon was so focused on him, kissing him while he moved in and out, working with Spencer to set a steady pace. Their bodies just fit. They made sense together. And that thought made Spencer shiver: that this was what he had been missing.
When Spencer opened his eyes again, Jon was looking right at him, and Spencer wrapped a hand around Jon’s neck and kissed him, slow and dirty and hot, until they had to pull apart for air.
Spencer slid his hand between them down to his cock, slick with pre-come, and started to work his fist up and down the shaft. Jon wrapped his hand around Spencer’s, jerking him off in time to every thrust, and Spencer screwed his eyes shut and cried out; it felt so good.
Their breaths came quick and fast, and Spencer moaned, “God, Jon, I’m –“ and suddenly shuddered as he came between them. He was still shaking a moment later when Jon followed, jerking his hips one last time and groaning out Spencer’s name.
Spencer really liked hearing Jon say his name like that. He sounded rough, exhausted and satisfied.
Jon collapsed on him, his face buried in Spencer’s neck. “I don’t think I can move,” he said, his voice muffled. He was trembling.
“Yes, you can. Come on, I’m gross.” Spencer stroked his hands up and down Jon’s back and laughed into his hair.
Jon managed to lift himself up and slide out. He rolled onto his back and glanced over at Spencer. He was breathing hard, and Spencer watched his chest rise and fall.
“Yeah, definitely a next time,” Spencer said, and he raised his head to give Jon a quick kiss.
Jon smiled against his mouth and made a little noise of agreement. He curled up on his side and said, sounding tired but happy, “I was not expecting this to happen tonight.”
“Me, either.”
He mouthed at Spencer’s neck. “Tell me when you’re ready for round two.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and gave Jon’s shoulder an affectionate shove. “So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?”
“I’m what would be described as ‘insatiable.’”
“And I’m what would be described as ‘exhausted.’” Then, considering, Spencer smiled. “But I might be a little insatiable, too. Mostly exhausted, though.”
“Here, come clean up with me,” Jon said, and he got out of bed, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash. He held out his hand, and Spencer took it. “Bathroom’s right next door.”
Somehow, “come clean up with me” turned into “oh, the shower’s right there” which turned into Jon pressing Spencer against the tiles and giving him what was possibly the greatest blowjob of all time. It was also the first time Spencer had kissed Jon in decent lighting, had been able to pull away and see the lighter flecks of brown in Jon’s eyes and the way his lips were pink and a little swollen.
The steam rose up around them and Jon rested his forehead against Spencer’s. “Sleep?”
Spencer laughed. “Not here.”
“Of course not here.” Jon looked tired. He felt tired, too, heaviness in his body as he leaned against Spencer.
Spencer gently pushed Jon away so he could turn off the water. “Guess you’re not so insatiable now. Come on. Bed.”
They got into bed with their hair still damp from the shower, and Jon nestled up to Spencer’s side and fell asleep almost immediately.
After five minutes of lying there with a warm, sleeping Jon against him, Spencer still couldn’t rest. His phone was in his pants, and he wasn’t sure where his pants were. Near the front door? Or had he taken them off in the bedroom?
He was pretty sure his laptop was still in the case on the back of Jon’s motorcycle. He had to be at work in about eight hours. He had Jon’s class tomorrow night – well, it was technically Friday since it was two in the morning, so tonight? And how the hell was he supposed to deal with that? Looking at Jon at the front of the classroom, thinking, “I’m sleeping with him.” Or “slept with him.” Because whatever happened could have just been a one-time thing, no matter how many times they’d said there would be a next time.
Something told Spencer it wasn’t a one-night stand, though. His heart started to beat faster. He’d never had a boyfriend before. He’d never been in a serious relationship. He didn’t even know if he and Jon would end up in a serious relationship, but fuck, what if they did? And this had nothing to do with Jon’s teaching, because in about a month and a half, Jon would no longer be his teacher.
Jon sighed in his sleep. Spencer didn’t want to leave, not even to try to find his pants and his phone. He wanted to stay. And that’s what scared him the most.
*
At 8:30 the next morning, Spencer’s alarm started to go off.
“Mmph,” he said, not opening his eyes and reaching out an arm to find the phone. Instead he found Jon and a fistful of dark hair.
“What? What’s that sound and why are you pulling my hair?” Jon asked sleepily.
Spencer let go of Jon’s hair. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room and sat up. “My phone.” He looked around Jon’s bedroom, which was completely different now that it was flooded with sunlight. He saw his pants over by the door, and reached for his boxers by the side of the bed before he went over there to fish the phone out of the pocket.
He turned off the offending alarm and gave Jon an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
Jon rolled over, burrowing into the blankets. “D’you have to work?”
“Yeah. So I – I should probably get going.”
“You should stay here instead.” Jon closed his eyes and patted the empty side of the bed.
He was really cute when he was sleepy. And the offer was quite tempting. More sleep, more Jon, possibly more sex…
“I can’t.” Spencer started to pull on his clothes from last night, collecting them from all over the room. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”
Jon groaned and sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “Well, at least let me make you some coffee.”
“I – I need my computer, too; I think it’s outside.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of anything else he needed. “In the back of your motorcycle.”
“I’ll get it.” Jon slid out of bed. He was naked, and the back of Spencer’s neck got all hot and prickly at the brief sight of all that skin. Jon tugged on his boxers and a t-shirt. “I’ll start the coffee first.” He padded out to the kitchen and the coffee machine, stretching as he went.
Spencer wondered exactly when this had become his life.
Twenty minutes later, he was again in possession of his laptop, and he had a delicious mug of coffee in front of him. Jon leaned against the kitchen counter, still in his t-shirt and boxers with his hair sticking up and circles under his eyes.
“I’m not much of a morning person,” Jon said, sipping his coffee from a Chicago Bears mug. “It takes a couple cups of coffee and a shower before I’m fully awake.”
“Sorry for waking you up. I didn’t mean to grab your hair.” Spencer looked down at his coffee and stirred the spoon.
Jon laughed and ducked his head to kiss him. “It’s okay.”
Spencer pulled him in for a longer kiss, because he could do that now. Jon kissed him back, slow, hot, and wet, the kind of kiss that lingered, that Spencer would be thinking about for the rest of the day.
“Okay,” Spencer said, pulling away but not far enough, “I need to go.”
Jon kissed him one more time. “I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks for the coffee.” Spencer got up and grabbed his computer bag.
“At this point, I think you should hire me as your personal coffee maker.”
“I could never afford to pay you.”
“I could think of ways.” Jon raised an eyebrow and then took a drink.
Spencer blushed; he did a lot of that around Jon. He had never done it that much in his life, what the fuck. “Sex for coffee?”
“I think it’s an even trade.”
God, Spencer wanted to fuck him again, right there in the kitchen. The lazy, sleepy, sexy thing worked really well for him.
“Um, it’s getting late.” Spencer headed for the door before he did anything else. Although … if he went to work, he’d sit in that fucking office all day thinking about the next time he could get in bed with Jon.
Who was still standing in the kitchen, looking at Spencer like he wanted him right then and there.
“Actually, I think I’m going to call in sick.” Spencer got out his phone and dialed the office number. He spoke to someone in the office who “Aww”-ed and asked him how he was feeling, and he managed to hang up feeling like he’d convinced her that he was really sick.
They were on their way back to the bedroom before Spencer could put his phone away. His clothes were off again pretty quickly, too, and so were Jon’s, even though Jon had considerably less to take off.
Spencer pushed Jon onto the bed, and Jon’s eyes got wide as Spencer straddled him. “Now,” Spencer said roughly.
Jon reached for the lube and condoms, and they were moving so fast that his fingers probably weren’t enough to get Spencer ready. Spencer knew it wasn’t going to be that comfortable, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get fucked.
“Fuck,” Spencer said, pushing against Jon’s slick fingers, raising himself up on his knees. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands into Jon’s hips. He threw his head back and said, “Jon, now. Please.”
He felt Jon’s fingers slide out, and he opened his eyes to watch Jon put on the condom. He was gorgeous with his hair tousled and his mouth shiny and wet. Spencer wanted to watch him like this forever, touching himself.
“I’m ready when you are,” Jon said, lining himself up with Spencer, who didn’t exactly take his time sliding down onto Jon’s cock. It wasn’t the best feeling at first, but slowly he started to rock his hips as he got used to Jon inside him.
“You look so fucking hot right now,” Jon gasped, tilting his body up to meet Spencer’s rhythm. “God, Spencer, you feel good.”
Jon tugged on Spencer’s hair and their mouths came crashing together, a moan muffled by the kiss.
They kept going, and Spencer knew he was getting close already. He took his own cock in his hand, working his fist up and down. He rode Jon harder and faster, until he suddenly let go completely, shaking and coming over Jon’s chest and stomach.
Jon came with a sharp sound, his body going still and his mouth pressed against Spencer’s neck. Carefully, he slid out of Spencer and got rid of the condom. Afterward they just stayed sprawled on the bed, exhausted and trying to get their breathing back to normal.
“That was worth missing work for,” Spencer said. He felt an ache all over, and he knew he’d be feeling it even more later on in the day. But for now, he didn’t care.
“I’d have to agree.” Jon rested his head on Spencer’s chest. “If you want to skip work every day so we could do that, I’d be totally fine with your decision.”
Spencer stretched out, feeling the soreness in his muscles a little bit more. “If I didn’t have to pay rent, I might.”
“Promise me we can do this again, and I’ll give you free coffee for the rest of your life.”
“Rest of my life? That’s a pretty tempting offer. But I’m not that easily bribed.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jon rolled over on his side so he could look directly at Spencer. “I thought you’d do anything for coffee.”
“Actually, you don’t even have to bribe me. Not for that.”
Jon held the side of Spencer’s face in his hand and kissed him softly. “Can I convince you to have breakfast with me, though?”
“I need a shower first.”
“After a shower?”
“Yes. As long as there’s bacon, I’m there.”
“I know a great place,” Jon said. “Best bacon ever.”
“It better hold up to that level of greatness, or else I’m going to get pissed at you for making me leave this bed.”
“You have to get up sometime.” Jon lay on his back now and stretched his arms over his head. Spencer was transfixed by his body. Everything about it, from his arms to his stomach to his cock. It was a problem, because if he kept staring, he was never going to move.
His stomach growled. Fuck it. Spencer groaned and rolled out of bed. “Food wins,” he said.
“It’ll be worth it, I promise.” Jon got up, too, with considerably less effort, and followed Spencer into the bathroom. He reached for Spencer’s hand and said, “Hey.”
“Hm?”
“I just – it feels like I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” Jon looked right in his eyes, so unbelievably earnest and fucking perfect that Spencer’s stomach flipped.
“Yeah, me too,” Spencer said, and he didn’t care how saccharine the moment was, he loved having Jon look at him like that and say that to him. It freaked him out a little bit, too, but he ignored that part.
He got into the shower with Jon, and as they kissed under the water, Spencer thought, Yes, this and forgot about everything else.
*
Spencer skipped Intro to Photography that night. First of all, he fell asleep as soon as he came home later that morning (after Brendon had given him a high-five when he found out where Spencer was coming from and who he’d been with) and didn’t wake up until twenty minutes before class was supposed to start. Anyway, it was probably for the best because he was supposed to be sick, and he didn’t want to run into anyone from the liberal arts office in the hallway. More than that, though, he wasn’t sure what to do about Jon.
If he wanted to be an adult, he could have quickly grabbed his stuff and headed to campus. He could have handled sitting in Jon’s class. He could have dealt with the fact that they’d had sex and Jon had talked about waiting for Spencer. He could have acted like nothing had happened, like it was just class as usual. But that would have been too easy and too mature.
Instead he sat at home, wondering if he should ask Ryan for Jon’s number because seriously, they’d slept together, Spencer should have his phone number by now. But he was too chicken to ask Ryan, or, god forbid, actually ask Jon. Or even see Jon, or talk to him, or show up to his class.
Fucking shit.
He was an idiot. And he knew he shouldn’t be beating himself up, but he just didn’t know how to deal with this.
He called Ryan.
“Hi,” Spencer said. “Listen, do you have Jon’s number?”
“You still don’t have it?” Ryan sounded like he was shuffling through papers. “You guys must suck at communication.”
“Probably on more than one level.”
“What do you mean?”
And Spencer spilled the story about sleeping with Jon and skipping class and feeling like an idiot because now that he’d had time to think, he didn’t know how to deal with their having had sex or how he was maybe, possibly in love.
“For the love of god, just give him a call,” Ryan said. He rattled off the number, and Spencer scribbled it on the nearest piece of paper he could find, which happened to be a take-out menu.
He was going to call Jon. Just as soon as he got his head together.
*
In the meantime, Spencer spent his weekend doing work, as usual. He sometimes wrote for the college’s newspaper, and the editor e-mailed him asking if he could do a quick write-up on “any cool places near campus that students would be interested in.” She was e-mailing several writers, trying to compile enough copy to turn into a feature. She was “desperate” because someone else had missed a deadline, so Spencer said yes.
He wrote 300 words about The Daily Grind. He wrote about the delicious coffee and excellent atmosphere and music. (He left out the part about the hot baristas.) He even had a picture he’d taken to attach to the story – sure, he’d taken it with his phone, but his phone had a nice camera and the quality wouldn’t be that great anyway once it went to press.
As he attached the document to an e-mail, he wondered if Jon would see the article and if he’d notice Spencer’s byline.
He wondered if Jon was wondering about him, about why he hadn’t been there on Friday night. Probably not. Jon was normal; he wasn’t going to think about something like that.
Anyway, it had only been a day. There was no cause for alarm yet. He had Jon’s number now, and he realized he also had his e-mail. He had ways to get in touch with him. He just had to think about it first.
*
They hadn’t seen each other in a week and a half, and Spencer knew he had to go to class on Friday. He couldn’t skip again or points would start coming off. So Spencer chose what he thought was neutral ground on which to see Jon: the coffee shop.
He walked in, and it was the same as it always was. Only it was a Wednesday afternoon and Jon wasn’t there. He always worked Wednesdays.
“He switched shifts with someone,” Greta said once he got up to the register. Spencer hadn’t even asked where Jon was.
“How’d you know –“
“Because you always come in for him.” Greta shrugged and marked Spencer’s cup.
Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t come in just for Jon, there was the coffee, too, but – oh, whatever. Jon was the main reason. He wasn’t fooling anyone.
“We saw the story in the paper, by the way,” she said. “That was nice.”
“My editor just e-mailed me last minute about it; it wasn’t a big thing –“
“We’ve been getting some more business.” She smiled. “Every little bit helps. At least now you truly deserve your honor of having a chair named for you.”
Spencer narrowed his eyes. Jon had told people about that?
He paid for his coffee and was about to step aside, but Greta stopped him.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, reaching under the counter. She produced a CD in a paper sleeve with writing on the back. “Jon said to give this to you if you came in.”
The mix. Jon had still made him the mix.
“Thanks.” Spencer took the CD and turned it over to read the handwritten tracklisting. There was a note inside the sleeve, written on a yellow Post-It with permanent marker:
I don’t know what’s going on lately, but I still wanted to make this for you because I promised. Call me if you get a chance.
Underneath was Jon’s number and his signature. Spencer blinked at the note a few times and read it again. His heart started to pound. He was such an immature asshole for letting his own insecurities get in the way of something great.
As he left the shop, he passed by his chair. There was a sign on it in plain white paper that said, “Spencer Smith Chair. OFF LIMITS!!! RESERVED.” It was obviously in Jon’s handwriting, and it was one of the more amusing things Spencer had seen in a long, long time. At first he wanted to laugh, but then his stomach dropped and he got a lump in his throat. He stood there and stared at the chair, his head spinning. Jon had actually reserved his chair. It wasn’t just a joke.
What was Spencer doing? How could he possibly avoid a man who had named a chair after him, made him a mix CD, and kept him in free coffee, who also happened to be really great at sex?
He walked outside and dialed Jon’s number. He’d had it saved since Ryan gave it to him, but now Jon had given it to him, too. He didn’t have an excuse anymore not to call.
“Hello?” Jon answered on the third ring.
“It’s Spencer. I’m sorry –“
“I know.”
“I really don’t have an excuse. I just freaked out.”
“I don’t – why? Did I offend you? Did I do something?”
“No, no. I have issues. Like. There’s no way for this not to sound lame, but like I said, I was freaking out.”
“Over what?”
Spencer paused, and he winced as he said, “Sleeping with you.”
Jon was quiet. “I don’t get it.”
“I just –“ Spencer sighed in frustration. “I have zero experience in this department –“
Jon made a surprised noise on the other end.
“No, I don’t mean – god, Jon, that was not my first time, Jesus Christ. I mean I have no experience with actually talking to someone after sex. I’ve only hooked up with people, I’ve never had anything serious; I’ve never had a boyfriend, not that you’re my boyfriend.” He was just spewing words now, and Jon probably thought he was a nutcase. He wasn’t. Jon just made him act that way sometimes.
“Is there anything I can do?” Jon asked, sounding doubtful.
“I don’t know. You’re probably regretting this right now. I swear usually I’m not this, uh. Weird about stuff.”
“You’re not weird. And I don’t regret it at all.”
“I don’t, either.”
“Good,” Jon said.
“Maybe we … maybe we need to step back for a little bit,” Spencer said. He tried to choose his words very carefully.
“It happened kind of fast.”
“So. The semester ends in three weeks. Maybe we should wait until then.”
“Why then?” Jon asked.
“Because then I won’t be one of your students anymore. Because this is weird because of that, too. I skipped class because I was worried about what it would be like.”
“I don’t want you to skip class. It’s not – if you think I’d treat you any differently, I wouldn’t.”
“It’s not even that. It’s just the awkwardness.” Spencer laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sort of laughter. “I’m new at this. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Jon paused. “I’ll be waiting. And you can still come and get coffee from me.”
“Okay. Um. Thanks.”
After a short silence, they abruptly, awkwardly said goodbye, and Spencer hung up.
*
He opened the mix CD when he came home. Jon had drawn little cartoon cats all over the actual disc, and they had speech bubbles that said, “A mix for Spencer from Jon.” It was one of the weirdest and corniest yet loveliest things anyone had ever made for him.
Spencer slid the disc into his computer and put on his headphones. Even though the song titles showed up on his screen, he followed along with Jon’s handwritten tracklisting. As he went through each song, he realized: holy shit, it was their soundtrack. Every song had been something he’d heard in the shop and commented on, saying he liked it, or it was a song they’d talked about. Jon had even thrown some Blink 182 and Semisonic on the mix.
He sat there and listened to the whole thing all the way through. Then he copied the songs onto his iPod and went for a long walk around the neighborhood listening to it again, all forty-five minutes of it, all the way through to the end, which was a slow acoustic song about waiting for love. That one actually made his head and heart hurt.
The weather was getting colder, and by the time Spencer got back to his apartment, his cheeks were numb from the wind. It was already dark outside even though it was only six o’clock, and all of a sudden he was so tired. He was tired of thinking too much about things, tired of avoiding a real shot at happiness, but most of all he was tired of himself and just missed Jon.
He’d never felt as good as he did when they were together, when they just bantering back and forth and hanging out. He didn’t even need to have Jon physically; he just wanted to talk to him, even if they talked about nothing at all.
Spencer got in bed and huddled under the blankets. He fell asleep with his clothes still on and didn’t bother to turn off the light.
*
When he woke up early the next morning, Brendon was in the kitchen, looking concerned.
“Are you sick?”
Spencer rubbed his eyes. “No. I just fell asleep really early last night.”
Brendon bit his lip and busied himself by pouring bowls of cereal for the both of them. “You haven’t seemed as happy lately.”
Spencer might as well get it out there. “I kind of screwed things up a little bit. I let myself get too … mixed up in the head, and. Yeah.”
Brendon didn’t say anything. He just hugged him. Spencer hadn’t been hugged in a long time, and it felt good. He didn’t need Brendon to say anything.
*
Spencer went to Jon’s class on Friday, and Jon was right, it wasn’t any different. It wasn’t awkward. He sat in his usual seat toward the back of the room and took notes on his laptop like he always did. He just tried not to focus on Jon in his red shirt with the sleeves rolled up. As long as Spencer didn’t look, he was fine.
At the end of class, Jon passed out a document that laid out the format for the final project, and Spencer flipped through it, skimming the pages. He looked up again when Jon started to speak, and it was ridiculous, but just the sound of Jon’s voice hit him in the gut, even if all Jon was talking about were project requirements.
“So, as a favor to you guys, I’m going to give you the next two weeks off from class to put everything together,” Jon said. “But if anyone wants to come here during class time to ask questions or do some work, I’ll be here.”
Class ended, and Spencer tried his best to slip away unnoticed, which was completely immature, but he was great at avoiding confrontation.
As Spencer left, Jon looked up from where he was putting away his computer and notes to say, “Hey, good luck on the project.”
Spencer stepped aside to let other people walk past him and said, “Thanks.”
“If I can help, let me know.”
“I will.” Spencer came closer to him; Jon smelled really good, and he looked really good, and it was hard not to kiss him right then and there. “Uh, by the way, I loved the mix.”
Jon grinned. “I’m glad.”
“I’ve been listening to it a lot.” He added, quickly, “Anyway, I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you.” Jon picked up his bag. “Maybe for coffee?”
“It’s the end of the semester, and I’ve been busy with stuff,” Spencer said, and it was half-true. “Haven’t had too much time to stop in.”
“Okay.” Jon nodded. “I’ll still talk to you soon, though.”
Spencer stuck his hands in his pockets, trying to think of ways to end the conversation without blurting out I think I’m falling in love with you and I’m sorry for being such a failure at communicating like adults but Jon ended it for him with a weak smile and a “Have a good night.”
Spencer walked to his car alone.
*
There was a week left of their self-imposed hiatus, but Spencer couldn’t take it anymore. He had been avoiding the coffee shop, and after so many of Jon’s delicious lattes, his coffee at home or at Starbucks just didn’t compare. He was having withdrawals because he missed Jon’s coffee so much, and he missed hanging out in his chair with his laptop. He missed the atmosphere. He missed the music. But mostly he missed Jon.
His life just didn’t feel right without Jon in it.
It was the first week of December, and when Spencer stepped inside The Daily Grind, it was like Christmas had exploded all over the place – Jon’s handiwork, Spencer was sure. There were little snowflakes and snowmen stuck to the windows; a tree with ornaments, lights, and tinsel right next to Spencer’s chair; and Charlie Brown Christmas was playing.
He knew Jon was probably working; it was a Tuesday evening. When he walked in, though, Jon wasn’t behind the counter – Tom was. Spencer’s stomach instantly dropped as he approached.
“Hey, Spencer,” Tom greeted him.
“Uh.” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, nervous. “Is Jon here?”
“Yeah, he’s in the break room. Are you here to see him? Because all he’s doing anymore is talking about how much he misses you.”
“He’s been talking about me?”
Tom looked at Spencer like he was crazy. “That’s all he ever does. I swear I’ve never seen two people so inept at dealing with each other in my entire life. What kind of people finally get together and then go over a week without speaking or seeing each other? What is up with that?”
This rant consisted of more words than Spencer had ever heard Tom speak before. He was obviously very passionate about the subject. Spencer just stared at him in disbelief. His life had turned into some kind of weird sitcom.
“Let me get him for you.” Tom left to find Jon, and a minute later, Jon appeared. He was wearing a navy blue sweater with silhouettes of white reindeer on the front.
Oh, dear god. He really did love Christmas.
Jon’s mouth opened in surprise. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Spencer said. “Can we talk?”
Jon nodded, and he walked around the counter. He led them to a table in the corner and they sat down.
“I know it hasn’t been three weeks yet,” Spencer said, “but I was stupid.”
“Spencer, you’re not –“
Spencer held up a hand. “Look, I was scared. But I was stupid.” He took a deep breath. “You’re funny and kind of an idiot sometimes, and you have good taste in music, and you’re pretty awesome in other areas, too, and it freaked me out. That someone like you liked someone like me. I’ve never had that before.”
“You’re kind of an idiot sometimes, too,” Jon said. “But I love that about you.”
Spencer started to smile. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Feel free to go on and tell me the other things you enjoy about me,” Spencer said, playfully pushing his foot against Jon’s under the table.
“Well, that’s a pretty long list,” Jon said, and he tilted his head to the side, considering. “I have more fun talking to you than I do anyone else. You have a great smile. You get this look on your face when you’re concentrating on something on your computer screen, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s kind of funny.” He drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “I could go on.”
Spencer opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Jon knocked his foot against Spencer’s again. “Why do you think I said I’d wait for you?”
Spencer beamed, and he said, “I don’t care that you like Christmas sweaters or draw cats on mix CDs or that I thought you were an ass when I first met you. I don’t think you’re an ass anymore.”
Jon leaned back in his chair. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Spencer laughed and said, fondly, “Fuck you.”
“Yeah, I’m totally falling for you, too. By the way …” He pointed at a piece of mistletoe hanging on the wall near the table.
Spencer followed the direction of Jon’s finger. “Huh?” He squinted at the mistletoe for a moment before he realized what it was.
“I think you’re required by law to kiss me now.”
“Oh, and what law is that?”
Jon paused for effect. “The law of Christmas.”
Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes. “You know you’re a giant dork, right?”
“Shut up,” Jon said with a gleam in his eye. “You can add that to the list of reasons why you like me so much.”
“Who ever said I liked you?” Spencer teased, and he leaned across the table to give Jon a kiss.
*
I uploaded the mix Jon made for Spencer here. ♥
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Date: 2010-12-31 06:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-08 01:00 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-01-08 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-12-31 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-08 01:09 am (UTC)Oh, and re: the effort I put into it, it didn't feel like effort at all. I know it's long, but it never felt that long to me. I loved writing it, and I had so much fun playing around in this 'verse and writing this story. I was actually sad when I finished the fic, haha.
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Date: 2011-01-01 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-08 01:12 am (UTC)Thank you so much for reading!
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Date: 2011-01-04 11:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-08 01:15 am (UTC)Also, yay, I'm so glad you enjoyed the musical aspect of this! One thing about my favorite coffee shop is that they play awesome music, so I wanted to incorporate that. I hope you enjoy the mix.
Thanks so much for this comment; it's awesome and gave me the biggest smile when I read it.
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Date: 2011-01-05 08:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-08 01:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-08 01:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-09 02:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-04 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-08 01:29 am (UTC)I'm so happy you liked it. Thanks for reading and commenting!
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Date: 2011-05-13 12:00 am (UTC)I really liked how Jon did give up but kind of pushed his way in. And how it was all sorts of fantastically romantic, down to the obligatory mistletoe-kiss :-) Very happy-making!!!
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Date: 2011-05-13 02:36 am (UTC)