Other Things
Jon followed Spencer down the hall towards his room, the third door on
the right, already open, window-filtered light spilling out into the
hallway, but once they were inside, Spencer closed it. He leaned back
against it, running a hand over his hair, but he was smiling, saying:
"Yeah, mom likes to—"
Talk, Jon thought.
"You'd think she'd known you since you were a kid," Spencer said
instead, laughing a little, and Jon did, too, 'cause yeah. She'd asked
about Jon's parents, about their jobs. About his visit home and if he'd
gotten to spend enough time with his friends there, some of whom she
actually knew by name. She'd told a story about running into Spencer's
second grade teacher in the grocery store—Mrs. Terpin, she'd said to
Jon, a saint of a woman who'd spent hours with Spencer, trying to help
him learn his multiplication tables—and at that point, Spencer had
said, "*Mom*," and she'd smiled indulgently and shooed them away.
"No," Jon said. "It's… nice."
Spencer shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes like he didn't
believe Jon, but Jon just said, "It is. Makes me feel—"
At home, he didn't say, because that wasn't it, but.
But a little less like he'd been a true member of the band for only
nine months that seemed like half a lifetime and more like, well, it
had actually been half a lifetime.
Now Spencer smiled, genuine, real. Like he maybe understood what Jon
was saying, and given that he was Spencer, he probably did. Especially
since Jon hadn't really planned on leaving Chicago for Vegas for
another two weeks—and hell, he probably shouldn't have, given that he
was going to be spending the next several months stuck in a condo with
Spencer, Brendon and Ryan. But Chicago was fucking cold, colder than he
remembered, and most of his friends were doing classes most of the day,
or doing tour prep, and somehow lazing around in bed and getting up at
three in the afternoon just wasn't quite as much fun if you didn't have
someone to bitch at about it. To say, damn it, just let me sleep,
Brendon. God damn morning people.
Plus, you know. There were other things.
When he'd told Spencer his plans, though, what he was thinking, Spencer
had said, "Hey, yeah, sounds good," and "So when're you getting here?"
and he'd sounded happy enough that Jon was thinking of coming that Jon
had gotten his ticket as soon as he'd gotten off the phone.
He'd looked happy, too, when he'd picked Jon up at the airport,
standing in the baggage claim, hoodie pulled up over his head, wearing
baggy jeans for once—maybe the greatest disguise of all. He'd hugged
Jon tight, nose pressed to Jon's neck, and Jon had returned it, more
squeeze than backslap. Because, yeah. Other things.
"Brendon and Ryan'll be over later," Spencer said. "Ryan's at his
guitar lesson, and Brendon's mom guilted him into an afternoon of yard
work, so."
"So," Jon said.
"So we have a few hours."
At that, Spencer stepped away from the door, towards Jon, and Jon felt
his breath catch in his throat. Spencer was biting at his bottom lip,
looking a little unsure, less sure than he had their last night on the
bus, when it had just been the two of them sprawled out in the lounge,
tired, loopy and exhausted but not wanting to go to bed, not wanting
this to be over quite yet. It had been Spencer that night, too,
scooting across the floor towards Jon, pressing his lips to Jon's for a
long (too fast) moment, then smiling sleepily at him, before letting
his head drop to Jon's shoulder, draping his arm across Jon's chest,
the both of them falling asleep like that, lulled by the sounds of
wheels travelling over road.
This was. Different, though, and Spencer wasn't smiling, and his
fingers were clenching into fists, and he paused about a foot from Jon,
just out of reach, and he was watching Jon, Jon could tell, and so it
was Jon who smiled, who closed the gap, and his aim was maybe a little
off, because he felt stubble against his lips, but then Spencer was
leaning a bit, bringing one hand up to Jon's shoulder, the other up to
his neck, and that was. Better. Lips parting, and Spencer tugging
lightly on Jon's lower lip, and.
And Jon had missed Chicago while he'd been gone, but there were other
things to miss, too, more, and when Spencer pulled back, he was smiling
again, eyes bright and clear and yeah.
Yeah, Spencer understood.
End.