FicWad

Spencer draws a line through the sentence he’s just finished writing and sighs. The workbook is almost filled with scores through words now, because he can’t concentrate. With Ryan gone, school isn’t the same; it’s boring. There’s no cutting classes to go get a milkshake or passing notes in History and if he’s honest, he doesn’t much like anyone at school anymore, except Jon, obviously, so he barely talks to anyone. Now, when Spencer wants to relax, he’ll cut class to sit on the hill Ryan used to smoke on. By himself, all alone. As he brings a cigarette to his lips and inhales, he wonders how Ryan got away with it for so long- the hill is near the back building and in plain sight of the staff room windows- but if Ryan can do it for years, surely Spencer can too. He drops his pen and notepad to the grass beside him and lays back, legs still crossed together. He continues to smoke and tries his best not to think of the day’s events.

Annie has always been a shy person, naïve, unobservant, irrelevant, and Spencer’s never had a problem with her- never had a reason to have a problem with her- until today. It isn’t her fault, not really, but Spencer’s jealousy can get the better of him at times. (So much so, in fact, that he hated Brendon when he first started publically dating Ryan, but wouldn’t dream of voicing this opinion, for fear of losing his friends.)

The school bell wakes Spencer from his day dream and he juts his head upward to stare down at the forming crowds of teens, near the open doors.

“Fuck it.” He mumbles to himself, as he decides against trudging down to the canteen to find some battered clumps of meat and withering vegetables awaiting him. He closes his eyes and fiddles with the zipper on his blue hoodie. It isn’t very warm where he’s sitting, but he’s never felt the cold too badly. After a short time, Spencer hears the sound of a conversation and then a female giggle as his privacy is completely interrupted.

“You missed math.” Jon says plainly; hand on hip and looking down at Spencer, both literally and metaphorically. Beside him, Annie looks bewildered and squeezes Jon’s hand a little.

“You missed me?” Spencer asks, rhetorically, opening one eye to see Jon, and shutting it again bitterly when he catches sight of Jon’s fingers intertwined with someone else’s.

Jon rolls his eyes. “And if I did?” He barks, letting go of Annie to fold his arms across his chest angrily. Annie gingerly takes a step forward, closer to Jon, to try and take a hold of him again. She can’t seem to keep her dainty little hands off him; she must have been pining over him for some time. Spencer wonders how they can act so much like a couple when they’ve been “together” for the best part of a few hours, but here they are, lecturing Spencer about his absenteeism, like his fucking parents or something.

“Did you?” Spencer hisses back, sitting up and reaching to his bag for another cigarette. Jon grits his teeth. Their conversations are increasingly often a series of questions now; almost as if they can’t bear to talk, but want answers all the same. He supposes Spencer deserves some answers, but he’s so confused about the whole situation and the introduction of Annie to the dynamics, is a good way to simplify it- for now. He exhales loudly; aggressively and waits for Spencer to look up at him. When Spencer’s lit a cigarette in his mouth, he does look up, eyebrows raised and face a blank, the cigarette still perched between his lips. Jon chokes out a laugh and pushes his tongue into the inside of his cheek.

“Fine, yeah. Okay?” He spits, now completely forgetting the girl next to him. Annie clears her throat and dismisses herself; kissing Jon on the cheek before she leaves. (She’d meant to kiss his lips, but the awkward way in which he was standing made it too difficult to reach.)

“Nice one.” Spencer says sarcastically, hinting towards the girl now skipping down the hill to her girlfriends.

“Leave it.” Jon tells him, narrowing his eyes. He takes a cautious look around, before sitting to the left of Spencer, resting both arms over his knees and sighing. “Course I missed you. I- I miss you all the time.” His voice fades into a whisper and his hands start to shake involuntarily. Spencer raises his eyebrows at Jon and breathes smoke out through his nose. His eyes wander up and down Jon’s body; he'd forgotten how much he missed Jon, recently.

“Tell you what, come to my Halloween party.” Spencer says, after a long pause to study Jon’s face. He tries to sound happy and upbeat, but all he wants to do is cuddle into Jon and he knows he can’t do that. He flicks his hair from over his face and lies back again.

“Sure.” Jon mutters, lying next to Spencer and accidentally brushing their hands together slightly. “When is it?” He laughs and Spencer chuckles genuinely; beaming bright teeth for Jon to see.


*


“Trick or treat!” Ryan exclaims childishly, the second Spencer opens the door to him. He’s wearing his usual clothes, but his jeans are tattered and his shirt has a rip in it. His hoodie is covered in fake blood and his hair is caked in wax to make it stick up awkwardly. His face is also painted with whites and reds and purples to give him an authentic undead look. He’s gone all out, as always. Brendon on the other hand, is wearing nothing out of the ordinary, except a set of fake vampire teeth, complete with a trickle of fake blood from the corner of his mouth. Spencer suspects that Ryan basically forced the teeth into Brendon’s mouth, so he’d at least look like he enjoys Halloween as much as Ryan does.

“No, go away, you look like shit.” Spencer tells him; acting falsely mean and Ryan smirks, as he shoves him backwards to gain entrance to the house, dragging Brendon by his hand into the hallway. “Or come in, whatever works for you.” Spencer laughs, shutting the door behind them.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Ryan demands, looking more hurt than anything else.

“Ryan, we’ve talked about this,” Spencer says patronizingly; wrapping one hand around Ryan’s upper arm and squeezing it. “This is not what being naked looks like; these things I’m wearing are clothes and that means I am dressed.” He chuckles, then winks at Ryan and makes for the living room.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Brendon hums, as he and Ryan exchange a surprised look and begin to follow Spencer around his house. Spencer’s been moping recently; rarely making jokes, or joining in with days out, nights in, really, he’s become a recluse.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I have the whole house to myself, on Halloween, spending it with you guys and some other folk from around town. And lots of alcohol! That, my friends, cannot equal a bad mood.” He shrugs and fumbles with a bottle opener. Brendon casts Ryan a sort of “this isn’t normal, is it?” kind of look and Ryan shakes his head, to confirm it isn’t. Nevertheless, Spencer turns the music up louder and prances around the living room, a drink in one hand and the bottle opener in the other.


*


Jon and Annie stumble into Spencer’s kitchen as he’s texting his mom a lie about trick or treater’s, by the kitchen sink.

“Hey!” Jon warns Annie, as she dips her hand into his pocket. Spencer scoffs and pretends not to notice them, staring blankly at his reflection in his cell. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Jon reassures her and she pouts, but lets go of his jeans to allow him to skulk off.

“Hey Spencer.” She chirps, waltzing towards him and leaning her hands on the adjacent side of the counter. “I can’t believe you invited me here, I thought- well, I didn’t think you liked me much.” Spencer wants to explain that he didn’t invite her, it's just that Jon somehow thought his invite extended to “plus one”, but he doesn’t want to be a total bastard to the girl and simply smiles instead. He reaches into the fruit bowl and finds a cherry, pops it into his mouth and pulls the fruit from the stem with his gritted teeth. Annie asks if she can take one also and Spencer gestures a yes. Then they stand there in uncomfortable silence for a minute, until Jon emerges from the busy living room with a half empty bottle of beer and a smile plastered across his face.

“Cherry?” Annie offers, swinging around to face him and holding one in front of her low-cut vest. Spencer can’t help but to wonder why she would dream of wearing something so minimal in October, but keeps his remarks to himself. Instead he watches Jon cradle Annie’s ass between two hands and a bottle and open his mouth to be fed. Spencer gags behind them and Annie tilts her head back.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, wide-eyed and worried and Jon spits a cherry stone onto a plate on the counter.

“Stone.” Spencer lies, a fake smile on his face and eyes burning into Jon’s face as Jon gives him an angry look. When Annie’s head swivels back the right way around, Jon smiles at her, but his eyes are fixed on Spencer.

“Hey, can you tie one of these stems into a knot with your tongue?” He asks Annie, who returns him with a puzzled look. Spencer ducks down under the counter to nosily find a glass and pour gin into it. Jon watches every second of his moving, pouring, sipping and staring right back at him, angry eyes shining in the kitchen light. Annie stays oblivious to Jon’s watching the boy on the other side of the counter and thinks.

“Can’t say I’ve ever tried.” She replies, then proceeds to try; face twisting and eyes shifting as she attempts to force the stem into folding the right way with just her tongue. After a few minutes, she coughs and Jon’s eyes dart from watching Spencer drink, to her.

“Shit, you okay?” He asks guiltily. Annie tells him that she’s fine, but should probably go find her drink to wash out the taste. She throws the stem into the waste bin on the way out the door.

“I don’t get the big hype.” Spencer says casually. “The cherry stem thing, I mean.” Before Jon turns to see him again, he takes the stem of the cherry he was eating between his teeth and holds it in his mouth. Jon smiles; almost as if he can breathe easy again, now that they're alone. He steps forward, to Spencer’s side of the counter and explains that he isn’t too sure why people like it so much, but it’s an endearing talent. Spencer twists his tongue over the stem being held in place by his molars.

“And, if nothing else, it shows good tongue skills.” Jon says playfully, leaning close into Spencer, placing his bottle on the counter and watching Spencer's mouth crease into a smile. After a second of staring happily at each other, Jon blinks it away, turns and intends to walk away, but Spencer catches his arm and swings him back around. He sticks out his tongue, revealing a knotted cherry stem and winks. He takes the stem in two fingers and lays it down on the plate.

“So am I to assume that, that means you can’t do it?” Spencer jokes, as he begins to walk away, secure in the knowledge that Jon will follow him. Jon does, of course, follow Spencer like a little puppy, up his stairs and into his bedroom. No one catches them leave, because the busy and chaotic party is spreading through the whole of Spencer’s house and both the front and back door have been swung open for anyone to join them. As they move upstairs, Jon whines at Spencer.

“Is that you trying to imply I’m a bad kisser? Because I can assure you- you should know- I am anything but a bad kisser.” He shuts Spencer’s bedroom door behind him and Spencer smirks. “I am!” Jon protests, though no one was arguing otherwise. Spencer pushes his hand into the space between Jon’s hip and hand and locks the door. It clicks shut as he’s leaning into Jon’s ear and whispering “prove it” as temptingly as he can.

“Spence-” Jon whispers into Spencer, pressing his hands against Spencer’s chest and pushing him lightly back. Spencer twitches back and studies Jon’s sad eyes, then flares his nostrils and turns on his heel. He cowers to his bed and sits on it, bends to open a cupboard in his nightstand and retrieves a tin. He props a pillow up against his headboard and leans back on it, sitting up and as he fiddles with papers and tobacco.

“Don’t do that.” Jon pleads, lifting an arm and exaggerating how much he doesn’t want Spencer to do it. Spencer raises his eyebrow and looks down his nose at the things on his lap.

“Fine.” He snaps and throws everything to the nightstand. He turns to face it and curls into a ball; shutting his eyes tight and breathing heavy like a dragon. Jon sighs and moves to the bed, dipping it when he lies down behind Spencer. He mumbles something- perhaps to himself, perhaps to Spencer’s unforgiving, tense body- as he wraps an arm around Spencer’s waist and snuggles his head over Spencer’s shoulder, but Spencer doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t really care to know what Jon has to say, he just wants Jon to stop playing games.

Jon traces lines over Spencer’s arm. “Maybe it is a good idea.” He whispers and Spencer laughs.

“You’re such a pot head.” He replies; wanting to sound pissed off, but smiling too hard to pretend. He stretches forward, but is restricted by Jon’s hands pressing into his hips to keep him close. He rolls cautiously and studies his masterwork, proudly, as Jon watches; his eyes moving up and down Spencer in his grasp. Once it's made, Spencer takes the joint between two fingers and then lifts a lighter. Twisting so he’s lying on his back, Spencer holds the lighter into the light and growls when he sees there’s no gas in it.

“Got a light?” Spencer asks smiling and Jon watches Spencer’s breathing. He thinks about telling Spencer to get it himself, but figures that might be pushing the boundaries a little too far, so,without looking away from Spencer’s chest, he dips his hand into his pocket and finds an expensive lighter. Spencer struggles up into a sitting position and Jon mimics, before lighting the joint sticking out of Spencer’s mouth and watching smoke fill the room.


*


“What if someone comes in and finds us…” Spencer’s voice quiets to the level of a whisper, “High?” His face opens into fear and Jon can’t stop the giggle erupting from his throat. He looks up at the ceiling happily. He crosses one foot over his ankle and tightens his grip on Spencer’s hand.

“Door’s locked, Dummy.” Jon says simply, eyes slipping shut. Spencer suddenly sits up; finger’s still locked between Jon’s.

“All that means is that we can’t get out!” Spencer panics, staring towards the door. As Jon springs up; face confused and worried, dark hair a little messy from lying on it, Spencer begins to chuckle and though the laughter is infectious, Jon instructs Spencer to stop it. They laugh together, until Jon slaps the bed beside him and looks excited.

“I know what to do!” He suddenly says, smiling from ear to ear and swaying a touch. “We build a fort! Grab a duvet, attach it to your wardrobe. We can hide in there and then if someone comes in, we’ll hear them before they know where we are!”

Spencer looks at him skeptically for a moment; staring at Jon’s dilated pupils. He thinks to himself that the beautiful boy before him has gone insane, but blurts out something along the lines of “that’s a fucking good idea”, before hopping off his bed and fixing the corners of two duvets to bedposts and wardrobe handles, throwing a third blanket over the “roof” of the fort for stability and piling some pillows up on the floor for comfort. With the fort ready to go, the boys climb inside and curl up together. Jon giggles as he runs a finger over Spencer’s arm and wriggles closer to him. He pushes a knee between Spencer’s calves as a hint for Spencer to move further into his own space. Hs hand wanders up, eventually finding its way into rich brown hair. It strokes pieces and dances in matted strands.

“I have an idea.” Spencer giggles, smiling into the space where Jon’s warm breath is tumbling. He moves a little more into Jon and fumbles with getting his pants undone. Then, he takes the back of Jon’s hand in his palm and aids him into moaning; flicking and squeezing and feeling the small, confined space fill with a hot mist. Jon loses himself completely; a mess and out of control, but he finds his voice enough to pant a command.

“You too.” He tells Spencer, easing the pressure on himself and unfastening Spencer’s jeans. Soon, the two are knocking knuckles of sweating hands, close enough to kiss but refusing to touch their lips together. Spencer begins to shake first, tipping over onto his back and groaning fiercely from somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach. When Jon starts to spasm, he moans out Spencer’s name; clear and crisp and undeniable. He bites his lip hard and shuts his eyes tight. Spencer rolls onto his side to stare at Jon’s slowly calming face and eventually, Jon opens his eyes and smiles weakly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say-” Jon starts, but is shut up by Spencer kissing him. It doesn’t last long and is more than gentle- just lips against lips, not pushing or penetration- but lasts longer than Spencer had originally intended, because Jon kissed back and he'd forgotten just how great it felt to be doing this.

“Good night.” Spencer whispers when they break apart. Jon wraps his arm around Spencer’s waist and pulls him comfortably close, before falling sound asleep. Jon’s deep breathing is a lullaby that lulls Spencer into slumber.


*


Ryan runs up the stairs to Spencer’s room, giggling happily. The music is still blaring and people are still busy mingling and drinking and dancing. All night, he’s been looking after things; chucking out aggressive drunks, phoning taxis for far-too-drunk drunks, stopping the clumsy drunks from breaking valuable things that Spencer’s mom loves almost more than she loves her son, consoling the weepy drunks and now, he’s had enough of it. Brendon trips over his own feet as he races after Ryan to the top of the stairs- he’s one of those clumsy drunks that keeps nearly breaking the television. Brendon seizes Ryan’s bottom lip between his teeth- his real teeth, he took the fake ones out hours ago- and bites hard. Then, he moves his mouth to Ryan's jaw and sucks at the flesh for a few seconds. When his mouth pops off of Ryan’s skin, a bright red mark has already formed, glistening with saliva. Ryan hums and turns the handle of Spencer’s bedroom door, only to find it’s locked from the inside.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Ryan mutters and Brendon stops kissing around the new-born bruise on Ryan’s skin to ask him to elaborate. “Doors locked.” He explains angrily.

“You don’t think-” Brendon begins, trailing off because he doesn’t much want to upset Ryan by bringing up the possibility of Spencer and Jon fucking, again.

“Yup. Haven’t seen either of them all night, neither has Annie.”

“Great.” Brendon says sarcastically, rolling his eyes and finding himself staring at the next room. “What about in there?” He says, tipping his head forward to hint at it.

“His folks’ room? No, don’t be stupid.” Ryan barks, growing more frustrated by every aspect of this situation. When Brendon asks why not, he throws his hands onto his face and shuts his eyes behind them. “Because that’s disgusting! Would you fuck in your parents’ bed? Or your aunt and uncle’s? No, didn’t think so. We’re not doing that.”

Brendon twiddles his thumbs; looking down at his feet and hating just how much Spencer can get to Ryan at times. Ryan uncovers his face and sighs. When he sees Brendon looking sad, he wraps his arms around his boyfriend's and kisses his head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak.” He whispers. Then, he steps back, takes Brendon’s hands and looks excited again. He begins to walk down the hall, taking Brendon with him enthusiastically.

“What are you doing?” Brendon laughs, intrigued by Ryan’s sudden outburst of eagerness.

“You, in a minute.” Ryan says, stopping outside the bathroom door and winking at Brendon before he kicks it open. “Then, I’m picking the lock on Spencer’s door.” He says plainly, shrugging.







AN:
I am so sorry for the lack of updating. I know you've all probably gotten bored of this story and bored of waiting and I'm sorry, so if you stick with me on this, you're angels. Basically what's happened is I keep trying to kill myself and getting so drunk I pass out and I've had family members be really ill and had to look after them and everything is just spiralling out of control and I haven't been able to write at all. So I am so fucking sorry. Luckily, tonight, I've only had a couple of glasses of vodka, so I'm in a good, happy state of mind to write. Things are getting a little better, but I'm extremely temperamental right now, if I'm honest, so the updates on this won't be frequent. I dunno, I'm sorry, I'll try to update as often as I can and am actually working on the next chapter right now. I really do love you all.
And if you're interested, I can do the knotting a cherry stem with my tongue thing. ;)