House Built Around Your Voice: Gift for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alwayseven
Dec. 23rd, 2010 10:35 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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bandomstuffsitTitle: House Built Around Your Voice
Author:estei
Pairing(s): Jon/Spencer
Rating: R
Warnings: Language
Word count: 3,363
Summary: Between work, exams, Christmas shopping and that unfortunate crush he has on his friend, Spencer is going to need a miracle to get through this holiday season.
The worst part of waiting tables in a Mexican restaurant wasn’t the fact that Spencer couldn’t even be in presence of hot chocolate anymore without thinking of mole sauce and how it represented everything that was wrong in his life. The worst part wasn’t even the people who were annoyed when he didn’t speak “Mexican.” It wasn’t the men who snapped their fingers at him and yelled, “Guy, guy, can I have another fucking margarita sometime this week?” while Spencer was obviously waiting on another customer. No. The worst part was the fucking birthday sombrero.
“This is so wrong,” Spencer muttered to Brendon, as they, along with two other members of the floor staff, followed their manager Eddy across the room. Eddy, who was either achieving his life’s dream as the manager of Mexicali Rosa’s or on some serious drugs, was beaming as he carried the birthday cake.
“Smile, Spencer, this is someone’s special day.” Brendon waggled his eyebrows in a way that was probably supposed to be menacing, but fell a little short of the mark when his sombrero tipped down over his eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” Spencer said, “If it was my birthday the last thing I’d want to see is a bunch of assholes in sombreros coming at me.”
“That’s because you’re a dick,” Alex helpfully supplied. Brendon turned his eyebrows on a new victim, and Spencer spared a moment to feel a little pissed off that even though the whole kitchen had been in on the joke, Alex seemed to feel like Spencer had been solely responsible for the humiliation of his first day. Although, to be fair, Spencer thought it was mostly Alex’s fault for not realizing that being sent to the store for ice mix was a fool’s errand.
“I don’t think I’d like my birthday to be so close to Christmas, you know?” Brendon said, obviously having forgiven, or at least forgotten, Alex’s comment. “Speaking of! Have you thought of what to get Jon yet?”
“Bren,” Spencer sighed, but they’d reached the birthday table and Eddy sat the cake down with a flourish. The sombrero was heavy on his head and itchy and probably smushing his hair in weird places, but Spencer wasn’t actually a monster and he was a little charmed by the way the birthday girl, a grandmother with white curls, blushed and laughed.
“Happy birthday to you,” Eddy sang.
Still, the sombrero sucked.
| | |
Spencer flicked through the hangers on the rack before stopping on a pale pink chiffon blouse with a black ruffle along the collar. He touched the sleeve with a fingertip, pulling it away from the lace bustier behind it.
“Do you think Jackie would like this?” he asked, turning when he didn’t hear a response. Ryan was standing by a rack of scarves, draping different patterns across his forearm.
“Hmmm?”
“You’re supposed to be helping me, not accessorizing yourself.” Spencer said. Every year since he’d arrived in Chicago was the same story, he got bogged down with work and school and spent the last week of the term running around like a crazy person, caught between trying not to fail his exams and get ready to fly back to Vegas for the holidays with his gifts at least purchased, if not wrapped. Experience had taught him that there would be no time for anything but helping his mom decorate and clean, visit more people than he cared to see, and catch the occasional hour of sleep once the plane touched down at McCarran.
“Dude, it’s the thought that counts, right?” Ryan said.
“Did you know this little about teenage girls when we were in high school? How did you get dates?” Spencer wondered out loud.
“My animal magnetism, I guess.” Ryan shrugged.
“Ryan. Jackie. Present. Focus.” Spencer snapped his fingers until Ryan’s gaze turned to the blouse in question.
“I like it,” Ryan said. “It’s like Hello Kitty meets a pirate with, like, a dash of Upper East Side.”
“I’m kind of stressed out, so I’m just going to bypass making fun of you and go straight to the part where I don’t care what you think, this isn’t for you, it’s for Jackie. Do you think Jackie would like it?” Spencer resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, Ryan didn’t need that kind of validation.
“That’s what I just said.” Ryan sniffed.
“Oookay, then,” Spencer grabbed the blouse off the rack and scanned the areas around them. “Ryan, I don’t know how to say this, but we may have to use violence to escape this place.”
“It was your idea to go to mall this late in December, and I’m not done yet.”
“Ryan,” Spencer sighed, “You do not need any more scarves, okay?”
“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind, and before Spencer had a chance to try and figure out which way he should move he felt himself being thrust into the rack, hard enough to make the hangers rattle. Ryan looked over at the noise, gaping a little at the woman who was pushing her way down the aisle. Spencer jerked himself free and stumbled back a half step.
“What the fuck,” he said, probably way too loud.
“You’re right,” Ryan said, “It’s time to go.”
Still, Ryan’s concern for Spencer’s mental stability only lasted as long as it took them to get to the line ups at the cash.
“Anyway, Jackie’s present isn’t the one you’re worrying about,” Ryan said.
“I’m not worried about what to get you,” Spencer said quickly. “I already know you want a pony.”
“Cute,” Ryan smirked. “I was talking about Jon.”
“Oh?” Spencer said. It was probably a little pathetic that just the mention of Jon’s name was making his hands sweat. Probably a lot pathetic, actually.
“Oh,” Ryan nodded. “Although, I can think of something you can give him that won’t cost you anything,”
“Whatever you’re thinking, I don’t want to know, because my dignity is more important to me than money. Also, shut the fuck up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer said, willing the line ahead of them to move faster. “We’re just friends.”
“Spence, don’t be an ass. You know how he feels,” Ryan said.
“We’re friends, Ryan.” Spencer said, hoping his tone would convey that the topic was closed.
“What happened before, Jon isn’t Brent,” Ryan said.
“Stop,” Spencer bit out. His skin felt cold, tight, and he shuddered a little. “Don’t,” his voice cracked a little and Spencer was so mad, so frustrated that just hearing Brent’s name still made him lose control.
“Okay,” Ryan said softly, tucking his hand in the crook of Spencer’s elbow. “Sorry.”
Spencer nodded tightly and didn’t speak again until they were outside the store.
| | |
“Spencer Smith,” Jon ducked down until he was shoulder to shoulder with Spencer, who was hunched over a table in the far corner of the library’s encyclopedia collection. “I heard from a reputable source that you are stressing this exam.”
“Brendon ratting me out again?” Spencer said, unable to stop the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth.
“Yup,” Jon grinned. “He said that you made Alex cry at work during the lunch rush.”
“I did not, that, that is a complete exaggeration of what happened. Also, did he mention that Alex hates me? For something that happened five months ago?” Spencer closed his textbook with a thump, outraged at these scurrilous lies.
“Hmm, he didn’t mention that, but I do recall hearing about this ice mix story from you a few times.” Jon reached out to ruffle Spencer’s hair, and Spencer didn’t even pretend to try and duck away. Jon’s touch lingered, the pads of his fingers scratching gently against the skin behind his ear and Spencer tried to remember what they’d been talking about.
“Uh, yeah,” he said.
“Well, I brought you a special Starbucks treat. I know the smell of chocolate just reminds you of work and you hate eggnog, which is so wrong, by the way, so here is your very own cinnamon latte, with extra espresso.” Jon set a large paper cup on the table, the familiar reindeer stamped sleeve sliding down to the bottom.
“What, you didn’t have to do that,” Spencer was at a loss for what to do with his hands, Jon was still sort of holding the cup and at this point if their fingers brushed it would probably result in something really embarrassing.
“Well, I wanted to,” Jon said, and after a long pause stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “Anyway, you’re studying and I don’t want to distract you...”
“Yeah,” Spencer nodded. “I’m, uh, really busy.” He ignored the disappointed look on Jon’s face, the disappointment he felt, and reminded himself that Jon was his friend. It was the warm and spicy smell of cinnamon that was making him feel so lightheaded.
“Good luck on that exam, Spence,” Jon leaned in and pressed a quick, dry kiss to Spencer’s cheekbone.
“Yeah,” Spencer said, though as he watched Jon walk away the last thing on his mind was the book in front of him.
Spencer laid awake all night, alternately obsessing over the material he hadn’t read and whether or not the incident in the library had been a friend kiss or something more worrisome. Spencer has had a crush on Jon since they met, that’s not news, but it was so much easier to squash those feelings down before Jon had started doing things, playing with Spencer’s hair during movie nights or finding him in the library and bringing him delicious hot drinks or kissing his face, what the fuck. Spencer decided a long time ago that he was never dating again and Jon couldn’t just think that he could waltz in with his stupid hair and his stupid eyes and his smile and the way he pursed his lips a little when he was studying, because Spencer was like a rock, okay, and that shit was not going to sway him.
By the time Spencer’s alarm went off at 7 am he was starting to feel like he might throw up or explode. At 8 am when Ryan got up, Spencer cornered him by the toaster and basically unloaded like a total crazy person.
“But do you think it was a friend kiss, is what I’m saying, because, you know. I think it was.”
“Spencer, I love you, and I have been trying so hard to respect how fucked up you were when Brent left, but you’re a fucking head case and a moron and if you insist on standing between me and the coffee pot I will have to hurt you.” Ryan didn’t cut a very intimidating figure in a stretched out undershirt and pinstriped pajama pants, but Spencer knew that looks could be deceiving and back off accordingly.
The exam was a disaster and as Spencer left the auditorium he prayed that his labs would make up the mark. He must have looked sufficiently unhinged because his path was mostly unimpeded as he made his way down the bustling hall to the coffee shop at the end of the building. Unimpeded until a familiar black duffle coat distinguished itself from the rest of the students milling outside the coffee shop.
“Spence,” Jon smiled and shuffled over where Spencer had come to a stop. “How did it go?”
“Go?” Spencer repeated. “Go? It was awful, Jon! I probably failed and then Professor Allan isn’t going to let me take the advanced lab next semester and then I won’t have the pre-req for Peckman’s seminar-”
“Whoa, whoa, what happened? You seemed to have it under control at the library last night?” Jon’s eyebrows furrowed and he placed a hand on Spencer’s arm, but Spencer shrugged out of the touch.
“Until you showed up, I did. You can’t, you can’t just do stuff like that Jon because we’re friends, okay, just, just friends and you can’t do those things because they mess me up and then I fail exams.” Spencer felt his eyes stinging and he blinked furiously and held himself perfectly still. Jon’s face went blank and he took a step back and it took all of Spencer’s self-control not to grab on to him. This was important, because he and Brent were never going to be friends again and their break up and everything after had hurt so bad and Spencer couldn’t ever feel like that again, couldn’t lose the pieces of Jon he did have.
“Yeah, I get it. Just friends.” Jon said, but his voice was so cold and he was looking at Spencer like he’d never seen him before.
“No, Jon, that’s not,” Spencer said weakly.
“I get it. I wouldn’t want you to fail any more exams.” Jon said, and turned on his heel and left.
| | |
“Soooo,” Brendon’s gaze bounced from Spencer to Ryan and then back to Spencer. “Are we going to talk about how Spencer totally cried in the SUB or not?”
“He made a mistake,” Ryan said. “And he’s going to fix it.”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” Spencer said, pulling the afghan from the back of the couch around his shoulders. He’d made fun of it when Ryan had brought it home from Ikea, but he hadn’t been laughing after experiencing his first Chicago winter.
Ryan bent down and cupped Spencer’s first, his thumb sweeping across Spencer’s cheekbone to wipe away a stray tear.
“You made a mistake, and you have until we fly out in three days to fix it.” he said gently.
“But what if it goes wrong and we’re not friends anymore?” Spencer can’t help the whine that creeps into his voice, he can’t.
“Spence,” Ryan murmured. “Does it feel like you’re friends right now?”
“Fuck,” Spencer said, “I really screwed up.”
“So fix it!” Brendon leapt from the end of the couch and hip-checked Ryan out of Spencer’s field of vision. Ryan’s offended squawk was just enough to get a smile on Spencer’s face. “There, yes. This is the season of miracles, Spence, and I happen to know from Tom that Jon called in sick today. Now, go and wash your tears and snot away and go to Jon’s place and apologize and explain you are totally crazy and you didn’t mean any of it. Hmm, maybe you should bring some fudge, in case he’s a little put off by the crazy part.”
“I’m not bringing any fudge, Brendon,” Spencer grumped.
“But you’re going, right?” Ryan looked oddly hopeful, and that was enough to make Spencer get off the couch.
“So, when he tells me I’m a jerk and I missed my chance you guys are going to eat ice cream and watch an entire season of America’s Next Top Model with me, right?”
“That is not going to happen, Spencer Smith.” Brendon smiled so wide that Spencer believed him, a little bit, anyway. Enough to get dressed and wash his face and brave the cold wind and snow to make the trip to Jon’s studio apartment six blocks away.
Of course, without Ryan and Brendon present to keep up the encouragement, by the time he actually got to Jon’s building the doubts were piling up again. He didn’t hesitate to push the buzzer, but only because it was far too miserable out to linger dramatically on the stoop. Jon’s building didn’t actually have an intercom, so Spencer always texted as he was coming up the street to let Jon know who was downstairs, but this time he hadn’t wanted to give Jon the advanced warning, and maybe he was hoping that Jon wouldn’t open the door, that he’d have an excuse to turn around. Except Jon was obviously way too trusting, because the door buzzed and the lock clicked over and Spencer stepped into the foyer and looked up to see Jon leaning over the railing of the second floor, looking down at him.
“Oh,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard you were sick, or something,” Spencer said, feeling stupid in his mittens and his slush-covered boots and red, wind-bitten cheeks. “I, can I come up?”
Jon sighed, loud enough that Spencer could hear it down the stairs. “Yeah, okay,” Jon stepped away from the railing, presumably back into his apartment, and Spencer clomped up the stairs, feeling a little more confident, despite Jon’s cool reception. He hadn’t said no, yet. That was probably a good sign.
The door was open, and Spencer could see Jon standing in the far corner, hip against his futon, and looking adorably mussed in fleece pants and a hoodie. The menu screen for The Muppet’s Christmas Carol was on the TV.
Spencer tried to brush as much snow and salt off on the carpet before he crossed the threshold.
“Um,” he said, as he closed the door behind himself. “I wanted to apologize, for that thing in the SUB yesterday. I don’t, that was, I was such a jerk, and I’m sorry.”
“You were upset,” Jon said. “Like, I mean, you were totally a jerk, but I shouldn’t have left like that, you were really upset.”
“Yeah, but, don’t-” Spencer couldn’t believe that Jon was apologizing to him, and it made him feel even worse.
“Look, you should know, Ryan told me about Brent.” Jon didn’t meet Spencer’s gaze as he spoke, he twisted the hem of his shirt in his fingers and Spencer was so worried by how uncomfortable he looked that he almost didn’t catch what Jon had said.
“What?” he said, stunned.
“It was a in October, and I asked him, because I really liked you and you seemed to like me, but it was starting to look like a lost cause, so I asked Ryan, and he told me what happened with Brent.” Jon shrugged. “So, I guess, I should have talked to you, instead of pushing you so much. But I didn’t know how to bring it up and I was worried if I did that you would freak, but then you freaked anyway, so.”
Jon knowing, it didn’t feel as bad as Spencer had expected, he wasn’t embarrassed or angry, he was actually kind of relieved. So, the Ryan betrayal part of this equation could probably wait, and since Spencer had come to fix his mistake and not make another one, honesty seemed like the best way forward. Apparently, Jon knew everything anyway.
“I really like you,” Spencer said, “Like, too much,” he laughed a little, because if he didn’t laugh he would probably cry but he hadn’t cried since his ninth birthday until this week and enough was enough. “And I know you’re not Brent, but every time I thought about, about that happening to us, I just couldn’t, you know?”
“And now?” Jon asked.
“Well, I’ve already screwed it up and I’m here anyway, so. What do you think? About being more than friends?” Spencer felt like he should be holding his breath, but Jon didn’t make him wait, if the huge smile that broke out across his face was any indication. He crossed the room in a few quick steps and pressed against Spencer.
“I think that’s the best Christmas present ever,” Jon said, words mumbled against Spencer’s mouth.
“Oh,” Spencer exhaled at the first touch of their lips and his eyes fluttered closed when Jon deepened the kiss.
“Spence, Spence,” Jon laughed after trading breathless kisses back and forth. “This is the unsexiest makeout ever. You’re still in your boots and coat. Take that shit off and get on the couch with me and we’ll watch Michael Caine be awesome with some puppets, okay?”
And as much shit as Spencer gave Brendon for his Disney obsession, Spencer loved that fucking movie, but he barely caught a glimpse of it after he and Jon settled on the futon under the same blanket.
“Jon,” Spencer pulled away, though he kept his hands flat on Jon’s chest. “I was, I didn’t get you a present.”
“I told you,” Jon smiled and leaned in to steal a kiss. “This is the best present ever.”
Author:
esteiPairing(s): Jon/Spencer
Rating: R
Warnings: Language
Word count: 3,363
Summary: Between work, exams, Christmas shopping and that unfortunate crush he has on his friend, Spencer is going to need a miracle to get through this holiday season.
The worst part of waiting tables in a Mexican restaurant wasn’t the fact that Spencer couldn’t even be in presence of hot chocolate anymore without thinking of mole sauce and how it represented everything that was wrong in his life. The worst part wasn’t even the people who were annoyed when he didn’t speak “Mexican.” It wasn’t the men who snapped their fingers at him and yelled, “Guy, guy, can I have another fucking margarita sometime this week?” while Spencer was obviously waiting on another customer. No. The worst part was the fucking birthday sombrero.
“This is so wrong,” Spencer muttered to Brendon, as they, along with two other members of the floor staff, followed their manager Eddy across the room. Eddy, who was either achieving his life’s dream as the manager of Mexicali Rosa’s or on some serious drugs, was beaming as he carried the birthday cake.
“Smile, Spencer, this is someone’s special day.” Brendon waggled his eyebrows in a way that was probably supposed to be menacing, but fell a little short of the mark when his sombrero tipped down over his eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” Spencer said, “If it was my birthday the last thing I’d want to see is a bunch of assholes in sombreros coming at me.”
“That’s because you’re a dick,” Alex helpfully supplied. Brendon turned his eyebrows on a new victim, and Spencer spared a moment to feel a little pissed off that even though the whole kitchen had been in on the joke, Alex seemed to feel like Spencer had been solely responsible for the humiliation of his first day. Although, to be fair, Spencer thought it was mostly Alex’s fault for not realizing that being sent to the store for ice mix was a fool’s errand.
“I don’t think I’d like my birthday to be so close to Christmas, you know?” Brendon said, obviously having forgiven, or at least forgotten, Alex’s comment. “Speaking of! Have you thought of what to get Jon yet?”
“Bren,” Spencer sighed, but they’d reached the birthday table and Eddy sat the cake down with a flourish. The sombrero was heavy on his head and itchy and probably smushing his hair in weird places, but Spencer wasn’t actually a monster and he was a little charmed by the way the birthday girl, a grandmother with white curls, blushed and laughed.
“Happy birthday to you,” Eddy sang.
Still, the sombrero sucked.
| | |
Spencer flicked through the hangers on the rack before stopping on a pale pink chiffon blouse with a black ruffle along the collar. He touched the sleeve with a fingertip, pulling it away from the lace bustier behind it.
“Do you think Jackie would like this?” he asked, turning when he didn’t hear a response. Ryan was standing by a rack of scarves, draping different patterns across his forearm.
“Hmmm?”
“You’re supposed to be helping me, not accessorizing yourself.” Spencer said. Every year since he’d arrived in Chicago was the same story, he got bogged down with work and school and spent the last week of the term running around like a crazy person, caught between trying not to fail his exams and get ready to fly back to Vegas for the holidays with his gifts at least purchased, if not wrapped. Experience had taught him that there would be no time for anything but helping his mom decorate and clean, visit more people than he cared to see, and catch the occasional hour of sleep once the plane touched down at McCarran.
“Dude, it’s the thought that counts, right?” Ryan said.
“Did you know this little about teenage girls when we were in high school? How did you get dates?” Spencer wondered out loud.
“My animal magnetism, I guess.” Ryan shrugged.
“Ryan. Jackie. Present. Focus.” Spencer snapped his fingers until Ryan’s gaze turned to the blouse in question.
“I like it,” Ryan said. “It’s like Hello Kitty meets a pirate with, like, a dash of Upper East Side.”
“I’m kind of stressed out, so I’m just going to bypass making fun of you and go straight to the part where I don’t care what you think, this isn’t for you, it’s for Jackie. Do you think Jackie would like it?” Spencer resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, Ryan didn’t need that kind of validation.
“That’s what I just said.” Ryan sniffed.
“Oookay, then,” Spencer grabbed the blouse off the rack and scanned the areas around them. “Ryan, I don’t know how to say this, but we may have to use violence to escape this place.”
“It was your idea to go to mall this late in December, and I’m not done yet.”
“Ryan,” Spencer sighed, “You do not need any more scarves, okay?”
“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind, and before Spencer had a chance to try and figure out which way he should move he felt himself being thrust into the rack, hard enough to make the hangers rattle. Ryan looked over at the noise, gaping a little at the woman who was pushing her way down the aisle. Spencer jerked himself free and stumbled back a half step.
“What the fuck,” he said, probably way too loud.
“You’re right,” Ryan said, “It’s time to go.”
Still, Ryan’s concern for Spencer’s mental stability only lasted as long as it took them to get to the line ups at the cash.
“Anyway, Jackie’s present isn’t the one you’re worrying about,” Ryan said.
“I’m not worried about what to get you,” Spencer said quickly. “I already know you want a pony.”
“Cute,” Ryan smirked. “I was talking about Jon.”
“Oh?” Spencer said. It was probably a little pathetic that just the mention of Jon’s name was making his hands sweat. Probably a lot pathetic, actually.
“Oh,” Ryan nodded. “Although, I can think of something you can give him that won’t cost you anything,”
“Whatever you’re thinking, I don’t want to know, because my dignity is more important to me than money. Also, shut the fuck up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer said, willing the line ahead of them to move faster. “We’re just friends.”
“Spence, don’t be an ass. You know how he feels,” Ryan said.
“We’re friends, Ryan.” Spencer said, hoping his tone would convey that the topic was closed.
“What happened before, Jon isn’t Brent,” Ryan said.
“Stop,” Spencer bit out. His skin felt cold, tight, and he shuddered a little. “Don’t,” his voice cracked a little and Spencer was so mad, so frustrated that just hearing Brent’s name still made him lose control.
“Okay,” Ryan said softly, tucking his hand in the crook of Spencer’s elbow. “Sorry.”
Spencer nodded tightly and didn’t speak again until they were outside the store.
| | |
“Spencer Smith,” Jon ducked down until he was shoulder to shoulder with Spencer, who was hunched over a table in the far corner of the library’s encyclopedia collection. “I heard from a reputable source that you are stressing this exam.”
“Brendon ratting me out again?” Spencer said, unable to stop the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth.
“Yup,” Jon grinned. “He said that you made Alex cry at work during the lunch rush.”
“I did not, that, that is a complete exaggeration of what happened. Also, did he mention that Alex hates me? For something that happened five months ago?” Spencer closed his textbook with a thump, outraged at these scurrilous lies.
“Hmm, he didn’t mention that, but I do recall hearing about this ice mix story from you a few times.” Jon reached out to ruffle Spencer’s hair, and Spencer didn’t even pretend to try and duck away. Jon’s touch lingered, the pads of his fingers scratching gently against the skin behind his ear and Spencer tried to remember what they’d been talking about.
“Uh, yeah,” he said.
“Well, I brought you a special Starbucks treat. I know the smell of chocolate just reminds you of work and you hate eggnog, which is so wrong, by the way, so here is your very own cinnamon latte, with extra espresso.” Jon set a large paper cup on the table, the familiar reindeer stamped sleeve sliding down to the bottom.
“What, you didn’t have to do that,” Spencer was at a loss for what to do with his hands, Jon was still sort of holding the cup and at this point if their fingers brushed it would probably result in something really embarrassing.
“Well, I wanted to,” Jon said, and after a long pause stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “Anyway, you’re studying and I don’t want to distract you...”
“Yeah,” Spencer nodded. “I’m, uh, really busy.” He ignored the disappointed look on Jon’s face, the disappointment he felt, and reminded himself that Jon was his friend. It was the warm and spicy smell of cinnamon that was making him feel so lightheaded.
“Good luck on that exam, Spence,” Jon leaned in and pressed a quick, dry kiss to Spencer’s cheekbone.
“Yeah,” Spencer said, though as he watched Jon walk away the last thing on his mind was the book in front of him.
Spencer laid awake all night, alternately obsessing over the material he hadn’t read and whether or not the incident in the library had been a friend kiss or something more worrisome. Spencer has had a crush on Jon since they met, that’s not news, but it was so much easier to squash those feelings down before Jon had started doing things, playing with Spencer’s hair during movie nights or finding him in the library and bringing him delicious hot drinks or kissing his face, what the fuck. Spencer decided a long time ago that he was never dating again and Jon couldn’t just think that he could waltz in with his stupid hair and his stupid eyes and his smile and the way he pursed his lips a little when he was studying, because Spencer was like a rock, okay, and that shit was not going to sway him.
By the time Spencer’s alarm went off at 7 am he was starting to feel like he might throw up or explode. At 8 am when Ryan got up, Spencer cornered him by the toaster and basically unloaded like a total crazy person.
“But do you think it was a friend kiss, is what I’m saying, because, you know. I think it was.”
“Spencer, I love you, and I have been trying so hard to respect how fucked up you were when Brent left, but you’re a fucking head case and a moron and if you insist on standing between me and the coffee pot I will have to hurt you.” Ryan didn’t cut a very intimidating figure in a stretched out undershirt and pinstriped pajama pants, but Spencer knew that looks could be deceiving and back off accordingly.
The exam was a disaster and as Spencer left the auditorium he prayed that his labs would make up the mark. He must have looked sufficiently unhinged because his path was mostly unimpeded as he made his way down the bustling hall to the coffee shop at the end of the building. Unimpeded until a familiar black duffle coat distinguished itself from the rest of the students milling outside the coffee shop.
“Spence,” Jon smiled and shuffled over where Spencer had come to a stop. “How did it go?”
“Go?” Spencer repeated. “Go? It was awful, Jon! I probably failed and then Professor Allan isn’t going to let me take the advanced lab next semester and then I won’t have the pre-req for Peckman’s seminar-”
“Whoa, whoa, what happened? You seemed to have it under control at the library last night?” Jon’s eyebrows furrowed and he placed a hand on Spencer’s arm, but Spencer shrugged out of the touch.
“Until you showed up, I did. You can’t, you can’t just do stuff like that Jon because we’re friends, okay, just, just friends and you can’t do those things because they mess me up and then I fail exams.” Spencer felt his eyes stinging and he blinked furiously and held himself perfectly still. Jon’s face went blank and he took a step back and it took all of Spencer’s self-control not to grab on to him. This was important, because he and Brent were never going to be friends again and their break up and everything after had hurt so bad and Spencer couldn’t ever feel like that again, couldn’t lose the pieces of Jon he did have.
“Yeah, I get it. Just friends.” Jon said, but his voice was so cold and he was looking at Spencer like he’d never seen him before.
“No, Jon, that’s not,” Spencer said weakly.
“I get it. I wouldn’t want you to fail any more exams.” Jon said, and turned on his heel and left.
| | |
“Soooo,” Brendon’s gaze bounced from Spencer to Ryan and then back to Spencer. “Are we going to talk about how Spencer totally cried in the SUB or not?”
“He made a mistake,” Ryan said. “And he’s going to fix it.”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” Spencer said, pulling the afghan from the back of the couch around his shoulders. He’d made fun of it when Ryan had brought it home from Ikea, but he hadn’t been laughing after experiencing his first Chicago winter.
Ryan bent down and cupped Spencer’s first, his thumb sweeping across Spencer’s cheekbone to wipe away a stray tear.
“You made a mistake, and you have until we fly out in three days to fix it.” he said gently.
“But what if it goes wrong and we’re not friends anymore?” Spencer can’t help the whine that creeps into his voice, he can’t.
“Spence,” Ryan murmured. “Does it feel like you’re friends right now?”
“Fuck,” Spencer said, “I really screwed up.”
“So fix it!” Brendon leapt from the end of the couch and hip-checked Ryan out of Spencer’s field of vision. Ryan’s offended squawk was just enough to get a smile on Spencer’s face. “There, yes. This is the season of miracles, Spence, and I happen to know from Tom that Jon called in sick today. Now, go and wash your tears and snot away and go to Jon’s place and apologize and explain you are totally crazy and you didn’t mean any of it. Hmm, maybe you should bring some fudge, in case he’s a little put off by the crazy part.”
“I’m not bringing any fudge, Brendon,” Spencer grumped.
“But you’re going, right?” Ryan looked oddly hopeful, and that was enough to make Spencer get off the couch.
“So, when he tells me I’m a jerk and I missed my chance you guys are going to eat ice cream and watch an entire season of America’s Next Top Model with me, right?”
“That is not going to happen, Spencer Smith.” Brendon smiled so wide that Spencer believed him, a little bit, anyway. Enough to get dressed and wash his face and brave the cold wind and snow to make the trip to Jon’s studio apartment six blocks away.
Of course, without Ryan and Brendon present to keep up the encouragement, by the time he actually got to Jon’s building the doubts were piling up again. He didn’t hesitate to push the buzzer, but only because it was far too miserable out to linger dramatically on the stoop. Jon’s building didn’t actually have an intercom, so Spencer always texted as he was coming up the street to let Jon know who was downstairs, but this time he hadn’t wanted to give Jon the advanced warning, and maybe he was hoping that Jon wouldn’t open the door, that he’d have an excuse to turn around. Except Jon was obviously way too trusting, because the door buzzed and the lock clicked over and Spencer stepped into the foyer and looked up to see Jon leaning over the railing of the second floor, looking down at him.
“Oh,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard you were sick, or something,” Spencer said, feeling stupid in his mittens and his slush-covered boots and red, wind-bitten cheeks. “I, can I come up?”
Jon sighed, loud enough that Spencer could hear it down the stairs. “Yeah, okay,” Jon stepped away from the railing, presumably back into his apartment, and Spencer clomped up the stairs, feeling a little more confident, despite Jon’s cool reception. He hadn’t said no, yet. That was probably a good sign.
The door was open, and Spencer could see Jon standing in the far corner, hip against his futon, and looking adorably mussed in fleece pants and a hoodie. The menu screen for The Muppet’s Christmas Carol was on the TV.
Spencer tried to brush as much snow and salt off on the carpet before he crossed the threshold.
“Um,” he said, as he closed the door behind himself. “I wanted to apologize, for that thing in the SUB yesterday. I don’t, that was, I was such a jerk, and I’m sorry.”
“You were upset,” Jon said. “Like, I mean, you were totally a jerk, but I shouldn’t have left like that, you were really upset.”
“Yeah, but, don’t-” Spencer couldn’t believe that Jon was apologizing to him, and it made him feel even worse.
“Look, you should know, Ryan told me about Brent.” Jon didn’t meet Spencer’s gaze as he spoke, he twisted the hem of his shirt in his fingers and Spencer was so worried by how uncomfortable he looked that he almost didn’t catch what Jon had said.
“What?” he said, stunned.
“It was a in October, and I asked him, because I really liked you and you seemed to like me, but it was starting to look like a lost cause, so I asked Ryan, and he told me what happened with Brent.” Jon shrugged. “So, I guess, I should have talked to you, instead of pushing you so much. But I didn’t know how to bring it up and I was worried if I did that you would freak, but then you freaked anyway, so.”
Jon knowing, it didn’t feel as bad as Spencer had expected, he wasn’t embarrassed or angry, he was actually kind of relieved. So, the Ryan betrayal part of this equation could probably wait, and since Spencer had come to fix his mistake and not make another one, honesty seemed like the best way forward. Apparently, Jon knew everything anyway.
“I really like you,” Spencer said, “Like, too much,” he laughed a little, because if he didn’t laugh he would probably cry but he hadn’t cried since his ninth birthday until this week and enough was enough. “And I know you’re not Brent, but every time I thought about, about that happening to us, I just couldn’t, you know?”
“And now?” Jon asked.
“Well, I’ve already screwed it up and I’m here anyway, so. What do you think? About being more than friends?” Spencer felt like he should be holding his breath, but Jon didn’t make him wait, if the huge smile that broke out across his face was any indication. He crossed the room in a few quick steps and pressed against Spencer.
“I think that’s the best Christmas present ever,” Jon said, words mumbled against Spencer’s mouth.
“Oh,” Spencer exhaled at the first touch of their lips and his eyes fluttered closed when Jon deepened the kiss.
“Spence, Spence,” Jon laughed after trading breathless kisses back and forth. “This is the unsexiest makeout ever. You’re still in your boots and coat. Take that shit off and get on the couch with me and we’ll watch Michael Caine be awesome with some puppets, okay?”
And as much shit as Spencer gave Brendon for his Disney obsession, Spencer loved that fucking movie, but he barely caught a glimpse of it after he and Jon settled on the futon under the same blanket.
“Jon,” Spencer pulled away, though he kept his hands flat on Jon’s chest. “I was, I didn’t get you a present.”
“I told you,” Jon smiled and leaned in to steal a kiss. “This is the best present ever.”
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