FicWad

Spencer hadn’t spoken a word about Jon to Ryan, but Ryan spent their entire conversation in a whole other world; one filled with the awful thoughts Jon had unintentionally forced into Ryan’s mind via his ears.

Brendon rolls in around eleven on Friday night and sighs bitterly.

“You won’t believe the shitty day I’ve had.” He moans and Ryan makes a short “hm” noise to acknowledge him. He’s reading through his own partial C.V for spelling errors and typical punctuation mistakes that would gain him anything but brownie points for a career. He doesn’t mean to sound so distant, but he’s trying hard not to focus on the upsetting knowledge of Jon’s encounter with his best friend. Over the years, Spencer’s taken many things from Ryan; toys, clothes, books, cigarettes and Ryan’s always given them easily, so it’s hard to come to terms with the fact that Spencer has nothing to take in return. Ryan just always supposed they’d share this together, as they’ve shared first kisses and first touches and first laughs and first every-fucking-thing else since they met. But he won’t dwell on this, because Brendon is sucking on an ice cube and looking distressed.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asks, prying his eyes away from the shaky printed paper in his hands. Brendon holds up his palm; clenched in a loose fist, bar one finger and his eyebrows furrow. He looks up as he crunches down hard on the block of thawing water and chews until it is swallowed in liquid form.

“Had to work over time, then a bunch of guys from our school waltz in and-” He pauses, seeing no interest in Ryan’s eyes. “Long story short, I got my ass handed to me on a silver platter.”

“You okay?” Ryan asks emotionlessly, not bothering to unfold his legs and stand from the bed. Brendon’s face crumples, but he nods. There’s a deep purple mark on his cheek, from where knuckles had grazed it, blood glazed over the corner of his mouth from where it was burst open and he has a headache booming in his temples from where the ground had pounded it, but he can tell that Ryan isn’t really concerned- or perhaps he simply isn’t listening- so he shrugs.

“It happens.” He says casually, because that’s the truth, it does happen and he can’t exactly say he’s never picked a fight with someone for a very trivial reason, hell the way he and Ryan used to fight, it’s a wonder they don’t still. “And you?” He asks, head tilted on the side and eyes relaxing into a narrow slit.

“What? I’m fine.” Ryan snaps, placing his C.V on the nightstand and folding his hands across his tee-shirt. Eyes watch him in disbelief and for the first time since Brendon walked into the apartment, Ryan catches sight of the upset stretching across his perfect face.

“Jon and Spencer fucked. I’m just a little- I don’t know how to feel about that, if I’m honest.” Ryan admits. Brendon makes for the bed sluggishly, dragging each limb forward with the motivation of sleep. “And look, I know you won’t want to hear this,” Ryan continues lamely; quietly and a little worried of the reaction he’ll get. “And it’s not like I’m jealous, but I just always pictured Spencer being with- well, me. I’m not saying I want that, because I love you and you’re all I could ever want, but he’s supposed to be straight and it’s just weird that he’d let someone else fuck him.”

A wide and overly content smile branches over Brendon’s face, capturing his eyes and nose and forehead and still-sore-bruises with happiness as he undresses. Ryan casts him a confused, pained look and asks him what’s so wonderful.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said that. That you love me.” Brendon smugly tells Ryan. “And don’t worry about it; I’m sure Spencer will talk about it when he’s ready. Maybe he just didn’t want to push what boundaries you guys actually have too far. In the mean time, I’m here.”

“I’d rather if you were just here as a constant.” Ryan says, blushing. Brendon crawls into bed, dragging the duvet over his sore body and still smiling. Ryan copies; fitting his legs between Brendon’s and wrapping an arm around Brendon as he snuggles into Ryan’s chest.

“You got it baby.” He whispers, before falling sound asleep.


*


Jon’s fiddling with pieces of chicken in his sandwich; throwing stray pieces of stringy packet meat onto the grass beside him and nibbling the thicker chunks lamely. Spencer sulks towards him, kicking the ground and clenching his hands deep in his pockets. He’s mumbling words of encouragement to himself as he advances; nearing Jon nervously. Finally, he reaches the circle of discarded food and guides his eyes to the top of Jon’s head.

“Hey.” he mumbles, then sits down to the left of him. Jon sits the half-eaten sandwich on his bag beside him and sighs. He mutters something along the lines of a greeting, but Spencer doesn’t catch it, because he’s too nervous to listen properly. He waits for a moment and then tries words again- deciding that he shouldn’t waste time with small talk.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states and Jon’s eyes slip shut in shame. “It’s been a month Jon. How long are you going to shut me out for?” His voice is harsh and snaky- hissing loudly and changing in volume as it progresses.

Jon tilts his head to see Spencer’s knees and he stares at hands that are bundled angrily on the knee furthest away from him. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m just- I’m so confused.”

“Well, don’t over-analyze.” Spencer suggests, suddenly soothing and calm. One hand moves from the bundle on his leg and wraps around the back of Jon’s left hand. Jon stares at it angrily, his breathing hitched and rocky, until Spencer gets the hint,retrieves his clammy hand and re-bundles it on his lap.

“Spencer,” Jon says; stern and certain. “I’m straight. I don’t know what happened that night, I don’t know what I was thinking, but- it wasn’t right.”

“Okay.” Spencer says flatly. His head drops to look at his fingers and watches as they procrastinate. Eventually, he lifts his head again and smiles. “Come stay tonight.” He tells Jon, before explaining that Ryan and Brendon will be arriving at seven thirty and he can come over whenever. Jon sighs, but agrees. It’s bound to be awkward, but the group hasn’t been together for a night in, in such a long time. He’s barely seen Brendon and Ryan together and can’t remember the last time he made a joke about Spencer and Ryan ganging up on him. Sure, a night in with the boys might be okay- so long as he doesn’t have to stand it sober.

Spencer licks his lips and smiles wider when Jon agrees. Then, he ducks his head quickly and nervously towards Jon, capturing his lips in a delicate- but passionate- kiss. His tongue licks over Jon’s lip and pushes into his mouth for a second. The moment he can feel Jon start to move his tongue forward; searching for companionship- searching for a taste that’s becoming all too familiar- he pulls back.

“Still straight?” Spencer jokes, then winks. “See you tonight.” He says, before rising to his feet and stumbling forward over his own legs.


*


When Ryan hosted Friday night sleepovers, the atmosphere was chaotic, drunken; madness. They’d normally spend all their night in Ryan’s room; listening to loud music, laughing dangerously and playing stupid drinking games until one of them- normally Ryan- passed out. In Spencer’s house, everything is calm and controlled. Spencer’s mom knows the boys drink sometimes, but she doesn’t much like it. She’ll allow them to have a beer, but that’s her limit, (except when it’s a birthday, when she bumps that number up to three) so they have to bring their own alcohol, secretly.

Jon arrives before Ryan and Brendon. He’s greeted warmly by an unsuspecting mother and asked by an unwary father how school is, how living away from home is and how finding a girlfriend is. At this question, Spencer stops tracing the lines of the decorative stripe cushion on his lap and throws it to the space on the sofa between him and Jon.

“Dad!” He cries and casts his father a cliché, angsty, teenage look; widening his eyes and dropping his mouth a little. As much as he hates to admit it though, he’d quite like to know Jon’s answer. Jon shuffles on the sofa, a touch closer to Spencer. He’s been thinking of the latest kiss all day and can’t quite figure out what it means. He doesn’t like boys. He doesn’t like men. He doesn’t like seeing men naked or touching boys or when they hit on him at work. He definitely isn’t gay.

But then Spencer turns to him and smiles reassuringly and Jon can’t seem to forget just how beautiful he is when he sweats, when he pants, moans, shakes, fuck. There’s really nothing he dislikes about him; he’s perfect.

“Alright, sorry.” Spencer’s dad chuckles, before standing and stretching. He announces that he’s getting a drink and offers the boys one.

“Mm, thanks dad.” Spencer says, tearing into a smile at him. Jon accepts politely and Spencer’s dad leaves them alone. Jon shuffles a little closer again and fakes a stretch, so he can rest his arm across the sofa back, behind Spencer. He wants to slap himself for being so stupid and pulling such a cheesy stunt. Spencer doesn’t seem to notice though. Thank God. Jon’s breathing grows heavy as he stares at Spencer’s portrait, leaning closer and allowing his eyes to drift up and down his nose. He licks his lips and leans ever so slightly closer again.

“Spence?” He says, so quiet it could almost be considered a whisper. Spencer turns to look at Jon and as soon as his lips are in clear view, Jon captures the bottom one with his own. He kisses deep and firm, pushing all his weight into Spencer’s mouth. Spencer’s forcibly tipped back. Jon falls into place; his front pressing against Spencer’s. Blood rushes through Jon’s veins, travelling downwards and he starts to feel a touch lightheaded. He’s forgetting just how straight he’s been convincing himself he is, until the doorbell rings and Spencer juts upwards in surprise.

“Sorry.” Jon mutters, sitting up. Spencer assures him that it’s okay and then tugs his pants a little to try and hide the result of the kissing, before darting out of the room to greet the rest of the guests.


*


“Be nice.” Brendon whispers, squeezing Ryan’s hand and smiling.

“I will, I will. Doesn’t make him any less of a bastard for keeping this from me.” He returns a fake, teeth-gritted-lips-pursed smile. Brendon roles his eyes.

“Come here.” He soothes, reaching for Ryan’s chin and pulling it into his own space. He kisses him gently.

“Thanks.” Ryan hums in return, “I love you.”

Brendon squeezes his hand again, smiling even wider somehow. “I know.” He jokes, “I love you too."

The door is unhitched from its lock and pulled into the hallway. Spencer’s looking a little bit flushed when he answers and Ryan tightens his grip on Brendon’s hand. He thinks that Jon must be here and that they must have been doing it again. His teeth grind together as he says hello and is beckoned into the house.


*


Ryan nibbles on Brendon’s earlobe softly and Brendon squeals. He tells him not to do it again, but Ryan ignores him, continuing to take small, delicate bites and breathing heavy into Brendon’s ear. Brendon hums.

“Right, truth or dare?” Brendon asks, sitting up from his cuddled position in Ryan’s lap and shifting away. Ryan pouts, then slides closer to his boyfriend. The group agrees, but also agrees not to push the boundaries too far, because Spencer’s parents are sleeping in the room down the hall. Spencer scrambles to his feet and locks the bedroom door. He also opens the window and turns the music up marginally. When he turns, Ryan’s already lit a cigarette- he’d refrained from doing so until the window was open and the door was locked because he didn’t want Spencer’s mom to smell it. Spencer points at him and winks. Ryan rolls his eyes and rises to his feet. He flips open his deck and draws a cigarette from it, holds it in front of Spencer’s mouth and opens his mouth a little; a demonstration of what he expects Spencer to do. Spencer obeys and the cigarette is placed lightly in his mouth, before it’s lit and smoke fills the space between them. Jon watches jealously and Ryan can feel his envious glare burning the back of his head so fierce, that he smirks.


*


Jon casts Spencer an embarrassed look, as Spencer reveals that yes, he indeed does have feelings for someone. Then, the focus is turned to Jon. Ryan watches Jon blush happily to himself and barely notices when Jon’s dare is slipping out of his mouth.

“Dare you to kiss Spencer.” He blurts out, staring surely at Jon. Jon refuses, but Spencer shifts close to him, anticipating the potential kiss. Brendon’s eyes widen at Ryan; surprised that Ryan would even suggest this. When Jon reiterates the refusal, Brendon yaps that he might as well just do it.

“I hate you.” Jon tells Ryan, before turning to Spencer. His face darts back to Ryan almost immediately and Spencer has a moment to ready himself. “Wait- tongues?”

“Yes.” Ryan smiles and waits. Jon rolls his eyes and flicks his head to Spencer once more, leans in slightly, then slightly more, closer, and then they’re lips are pressed together. There’s no hiding the enjoyment Jon gets from it; he smiles behind the kiss instinctively and opens his mouth a touch. It feels so natural to be exploring Spencer’s mouth, tasting him, lapping at him, moaning into him, pushing him to his back and practically straddling him; getting all too carried away.

“Mmm, Jon… Jon!” Spencer laughs, pushing his chest away from his own and forcing Jon to a sitting position. Jon chuckles nervously and scratches his head. Ryan pretends to be shocked; his mouth opens a crack and his eyebrows flash up, beneath his hair.

“Honey,” Ryan says to Brendon, but keeping his eyes on Jon. “Can we go for a walk in the garden?”

Brendon nods and the two sneak out of the room, creep down stairs and shush the creaking backdoor of Spencer’s house as they vacate through it.

“Might have, uh… carried away, sorry.” Jon mutters. “Won’t happen again, sorry.”

An aroused smile creeps across Spencer’s face as he shakes his head and dives forward to kiss Jon again. His lips are so close to Jon's- almost touching, when Jon's head slips backward. The smile on Spencer's face fades as he finds disappointment and rejection in Jon’s reddened face.

“Spencer-” He starts, getting to his feet and running both hands through his hair; wiping the sweat into a dark mass of overgrown hair. “I’m sorry, but I just-”

“What?” Spencer barks, suddenly antagonistic, because he isn't used to rejection and even then, when he's faced with it, he certainly doesn't take it well. Jon sighs and hopes that Spencer will cease the shouting, but he doesn't. “What?! You’re “straight,” right, I get it. Except that’s total bullshit Jon!”

“But- I am.” Jon protests, trying to keep his voice low.

Spencer doesn't care about the volume of his voice any more. He might as well wake the entire neighbourhood up right now, he could care less. “Then why,” He responds, rolling his eyes. He’s sort of inherited Ryan’s habits when he’s angry- if that’s possible- so it’s a lucky for everyone that he isn’t easily wound tight. “Why did you fuck a boy? Why do you keep making out with one? Why did you blow one? And why the fuck would all of that get you hard?”

Jon’s eyes begin to water as he stares at the boy before him; ears burning, hands shaking, cheeks flushed and eyes blurring up from the repressed anger seeping out of every possible pore in his body. He must have been angry all this time, but he had no reason to let it all out.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I should- I should leave.” He takes one last look at Spencer’s tearful eyes; beautifully blue, like an ocean and now streaming like a waterfall, before he makes for the door.

“Jon!” He cries out; his voice breaking somewhere in the middle. “Jon, don’t fucking leave... Please.” But Jon takes a few steps away from the room. Spencer wants to hold him back; wants to pull him into the room again and throw him onto his own bed, kiss him until everything is okay again, until Jon stops being afraid to admit his feelings, but he doesn’t. He just watches Jon disappear into the dark.