Fic: St-St-Stutter Something Profound
Oct. 7th, 2008 04:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
piecesof_reesesMore fic! It's been cluttering up my hard drive for most of the summer, actually, and I've only now polished it up enough to post. Crossposted to slashatthedisco also; just got around to posting it here now.
Title: St-St-Stutter Something Profound
Rating: PG13 for swearing and a brief mention of nudity (although not in a sexual context)
Pairing: Jon/Spencer, hints of Brendon/Ryan
Summary: Brendon and Ryan are oblivious. Spencer is confused. And Jon is just kind of lost, because he's new to this school, okay, and sometimes, a guy needs a little help. High school au.
Disclaimer: Fake fic about real people! Like the tabloids, only better.
Author Notes: This is a sequel of sorts to The High School Knows Something I Don't Know, but it can definitely be read as a standalone. Also, a million thanks to my long-suffering beta,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chaoticallyclev, for putting up with my frequent freak-outs, rants, and whines. You deserve a medal, seriously. <333
Jon prided himself on being a pretty laid-back kind of guy. The sort that took life as it came, and never made too big a fuss over anything.
So when his parents told him, “hey, by the way, we’re moving to Las Vegas,” he was like, “sure, okay, just let me grab my flip flops and I’ll be ready to go.” Of course, he wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the move. But he also knew that he wouldn’t gain anything but a grounding if he argued about it.
Jon tried to be practical about this kind of stuff.
So he said his good-byes to Tom and Sean and the rest of the band (the fuckers promised to let him come be their groupie as soon as they found a replacement bassist for him and got rich and famous), put Dylan in her little cat carrier, and tried to feel happy that in Las Vegas, he could probably wear his flip flops outside without worrying about frostbite.
And now he was actually here, in the city of blinding neon lights, fake boobs, and sequin-encrusted shit.
So, maybe he wasn’t as zen about the location change as he liked to pretend. But hell, it was the middle of the school year, and he was about to be a senior in an entire high school full of complete strangers.
Jon was entitled to at least a little bit of bitching, okay?
* * *
Jon’s eyes roamed lazily over the crowded cafeteria, scoping out his surroundings. He nodded along to the story Pete was telling him. This new school seemed to have way more defined social boundaries than his old one in Chicago. Most of the tables spread out around the cafeteria all had people divided into distinct groups. It depressed him.
William and Mike (both in his English class) sat in one corner, talking in furtive whispers. William was rubbing his side through a hole in his worn T-shirt. The shirt looked rather like it had been involved in a vicious deathmatch with either the washing machine or William’s ribs.
Sisky and Andy, from his health class, sat nearby. It sounded like Sisky was expounding upon his culinary habits (he had been talking about pizza and was now transitioning to cereal) at great length. Andy nodded along and tried to braid Sisky’s afro into pigtails, with a surprising amount of success. Sisky didn’t look half bad as a schoolgirl.
And Jon was sitting in the middle, pretending to listen to Pete, who had been talking for twenty minutes straight about his “mad soccer skills”. (Without stopping for breath, either. Jon had no idea soccer players had such amazing lung capacity.)
Jon looked away from Pete’s hand-waving and observed the rest of the school.
In one corner of the cafeteria sat a guy hunched over in a hoodie. He was sketching intently and, even from this distance, somehow looked vaguely unwashed. A younger kid sat next to him. Gigantic headphones covered half his head as he peered at a textbook through smudged glasses. They sat there alone, with other students sitting in a wide circle away from them.
Jon turned in the other direction, over to the table right next to his own. A tall Hispanic guy chanted some gibberish while—Jon rubbed his eyes disbelievingly. He looked like he was lighting candles, but none of the nearby teachers seemed worried by the obvious fire hazard. Which—oh. The girl sitting next to him was flipping through a magazine and simultaneously pinching out each candle as he lit them. The guy didn’t notice. Three other seniors sat by them, looking bored, like this was a routine they went through every single day.
“Dude, Jon, Jon, are you even listening to me?”
He turned back to Pete. “Sure, man,” Jon said easily. “It’s just kind of hard to hear since it’s so loud, you know?”
Pete nodded distractedly, then continued detailing his (apparently) amazing soccer prowess without skipping a beat. Jon smirked to himself. It wasn’t like this list of Pete’s many wonderful qualities was being given for his benefit, anyway.
A short reddish-blond kid sat across from them. Unfortunately for Pete, the kid looked engrossed in furiously finishing his math homework. Little wisps of hair peeked out from under his trucker hat as he turned his head from the textbook to the paper to his calculator.
The kid wore a blue argyle sweater over a pair of shorts. Some black knee socks completed the bizarre ensemble. Mentally, Jon shrugged. To each their own, right? He looked down at his own flip flops and wriggled his toes happily.
“And then I feinted to the left and lunged to the right and then kicked really hard,” Pete narrated enthusiastically, waving his arms around, “and then I scored the winning goal, man, the winning goal!” Pete looked sideways to check if the kid was listening.
He wasn’t. He was, however, engaged in what looked like some seriously fierce battle with his paper and eraser. There was the sound of tearing paper as the eraser poked its head through triumphantly.
The corners of Pete’s mouth turned down slightly. But undeterred, Pete launched into yet another episode in his seemingly undefeated soccer career.
Jon shook his head, a smile curling at the ends of his lips, and went back to looking around the cafeteria. The school was okay, but seemed awfully small after his gigantic high school in Chicago.
A small group in the center of the room caught his attention. A skinny guy with dark brown hair—Jon thought his name might be Brendon, from Algebra—talked excitedly to another kid with brown hair. The kid looked up, saying something in reply, and wow. He had the clearest pale blue eyes. Jon stared. And then Brendon must have said something funny, because the kid just smiled.
Jon blinked. Did the room suddenly get brighter? Hotter? Somehow harder to breathe? He tugged at the edge of the collar of his shirt, and looked up at the overhead lights to check, but then looked down again, feeling stupid.
He glanced back at the table. The kid was still smiling, but more subdued now. Soft brown hair had fallen slightly over one eye, brushing over a round cheek.
Jon stood up abruptly, rocking the table.
“Something wrong, dude?” Pete asked.
“Yeah, no. I mean. I think I have to go. Over there.” Jon started walking over to Brendon’s table without any further explanation. He could practically feel Pete’s bewildered eyes boring into his back. Well, Pete would just have to deal.
Jon stopped in front of their table, and then suddenly felt incredibly awkward. The kid had stopped smiling, and instead looked at Jon with a slightly bitchy, why-are-you-standing-in-front-of-our-table-like-a-freak glare.
“Uh, hey, Brendon,” he addressed the brunet, “I’m Jon. Um, we’re in the same math class. With Mr. Hartford?”
The guy stared with his mouth slightly opened. It looked like he’d been eating fries.
Jon winced. Did he get the name wrong?
He finally reacted. “Oh, right. Hey! You just moved here from Chicago, right? That’s so awesome.” Brendon grinned happily. “Sit down, Jonny Walker! It’s okay if I call you that, right?”
Jon shrugged, smiling back. “I don’t mind.”
He slid onto the bench next to Brendon, right across from the kid.
“So, this is Ryan,” Brendon gestured grandly to a bored-looking kid with a faux-hawk, “and this is Spencer!”
“Hey.” Jon’s smile widened.
Spencer had broad shoulders, he noted appreciatively. And a pale neck, and some soft, pink lips that he really just wanted to bite into.
Jon forced himself to move his gaze upward, looking at the round cheeks he saw earlier, sliding up a cute, slightly upturned nose, and then settling on those seriously pretty eyes. Which were looking right at him.
Spencer twitched an eyebrow upward. Jon grinned back.
“Where’s your lunch, dude?” Brendon’s voice broke in.
“Oh.” Jon shrugged vaguely, waving in Pete’s direction. “Somewhere over there.” He didn’t take his eyes off Spencer’s. Who needed lunch, anyway?
“Wait.” Ryan perked up and leaned forward eagerly. “You know Pete Wentz?”
Brendon sighed, eyes narrowing slightly. The faintly annoyed look seemed out of place on his face, as though he didn’t get very much practice in being angry.
“Uh, yeah. I think we’re in English together,” Jon replied.
“Seriously? Oh man, have you heard his poetry? He’s brilliant!” Ryan’s voice cracked slightly on the last word.
“I still can’t believe you stalk his fucking livejournal,” Brendon muttered resentfully. “How much more pathetic can you get?”
Ryan ignored him. “Wow. Really, can you, um, introduce us or something?” He looked at Jon, eyes shining.
Jon looked uncomfortably from him to Brendon. An undercurrent of tension had suddenly started up. Something was definitely going on. He peered closer at them.
Brendon had his foot pushed in at an awkward angle, so that their knees lined up and bumped against each other. Even when talking to Jon, Ryan always had his head tilted towards Brendon. And right now Brendon looked like he wanted to kill someone. Preferably someone with horsey teeth, stupid hair, and a name that rhymed with Sweet Fence. Of course. It was so obvious.
“Um…” Jon turned back towards Pete’s table.
Pete was still waving his arms in the air, mouth moving at an alarmingly fast pace. The short kid was still scribbling frantically, although it looked like he had since moved on to Spanish homework. “Right now I think he’s kind of busy.” Getting ignored, Jon added in his head.
“Oh.” Ryan looked crestfallen.
On the other hand, Brendon had brightened up noticeably. Jon exhaled in a laugh and looked back at Spencer, who was poking dubiously at the cafeteria food. At least now he knew Spencer wasn’t homophobic; he couldn’t be with his two best friends dating. And that was definitely a step in the right direction.
* * *
Fiddling absentmindedly with his camera, Jon walked down the hall to the library. Spencer was…pretty amazing, he thought to himself, grinning faintly. Maybe Las Vegas wasn’t so bad after all.
The rest of lunch had been spent with Brendon making increasingly bad jokes and Ryan flicking him on the nose or ear or whatever body part happened to be handy. Brendon just smiled through all the abuse, basking in the attention. Spencer stayed mostly silent, but offered up witty one-liners every so often. For himself, Jon had been perfectly content just staring at Spencer.
To Spencer’s credit, he hadn’t looked too weirded out.
Jon smiled ruefully. The last time he’d stared dumbstruck like that was when he was twelve, locked in his bedroom with a smuggled copy of his brother’s Playboy. And hopefully, he’d matured since then, although the past few hours seemed determined to prove him wrong.
Pulling open the library door, Jon let himself into the quiet room. He still needed to snap some pictures for Photography class during his study period, but it was kind of difficult to do portraits without a model.
And…There was Spencer, sitting in front of a computer. Well.
Jon made his way over leisurely. The slaps of his flip flops against the tiled floor sounded jarringly loud.
He stopped just behind Spencer, watching him finish up an email to someone named bden5033@yahoo.com.
“Hey, Ryan,” Spencer said without turning around.
“Ah, no, it’s Jon. From lunch,” he clarified.
“Oh, sorry.” Spencer swiveled around in his chair. “What’s up?”
“Actually, I kind of need a favor.”
“A favor?” His eyebrows rose.
“Yeah. I have to take some pictures for Photography class, and, well, I need a model.” Jon tried to smile disarmingly.
“Um, me? I don’t…I’m probably not the best candidate for that…”
Jon stepped closer unconsciously and slipped into the chair next to him. “No, really, I’ve been experimenting with some different developing techniques, and the color of your eyes would totally work well with the effect I’m going for, I think.” He reached forward, smoothing two fingers over Spencer’s cheek.
Spencer jerked away reflexively, blushing pink.
Jon put his fingers back in his lap quickly, suppressing a smile. “Anyway, you’re also one of the only guys I know here, so…”
Spencer thought for a minute, then shrugged. “Sure, okay. I’m not really doing anything here, anyway.”
“Great!” Jon grinned. He seemed to smile a lot around Spencer. “So hey, let’s go out to the courtyard. I’ll get better lighting out there, and, yeah...”
They walked outside silently. It was a nice day in May, and several other students milled about, enjoying the sunshine.
“So.” Spencer grinned suddenly, bright and wonderful. “How do you want me?”
Jon could feel his mouth open slightly, and he stumbled, feeling the tips of his ears heat up. What were they talking about again?
“Um.” Jon tried to reorganize his thoughts, unable to tear his gaze away from that smile. “How about against that tree? Just act natural or something. Like I’m not here,” he added helpfully.
Spencer rolled his eyes at that, but did as told. He leaned against the tree, his pale skin a startling contrast against the dark bark. Cocking his hip out, he settled himself more comfortably.
Jon stared, momentarily forgetting the camera in his hands. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that staring so much was rude and probably more than a little creepy, but his eyes didn’t seem to get the message.
Shakily, he raised his camera to his face, and started snapping shots.
After a few moments, Jon started up a steady stream of conversation. How long have you known Ryan and Brendon? What do you guys do in your free time? Was today special, or is the cafeteria food always this bad? Do you realize that I really just want to forget this stupid assignment and do criminal things with your hips?
Well. Maybe not the last one.
Anyway, it worked. Spencer relaxed, and started posing more naturally.
Time flew past as Jon took more and more photos. Spencer laughing, Spencer smirking, Spencer smiling, Spencer talking, Spencer looking at him like he was stupid (which took up a majority of the pictures).
Jon walked up and put his hand on Spencer’s cheek to tilt his head slightly to the right, to catch more of the sunshine filtering in through the branches. His gaze refused to move past Spencer’s mouth again, though.
Spencer’s lips were red and shiny from when he’d licked them a second before. Almost involuntarily, Jon moved closer, his hand still positioned on Spencer’s cheek. He could feel Spencer’s breath now; it was warm and kind of moist. Jon leaned in, his heart thumping loud in his ears.
“Jonny boy!”
Spencer and Jon both jerked backwards, Spencer banging his head against the tree and Jon almost losing his grip on the camera.
“William.” Jon tried to smile at him, although he had a feeling it looked more like a pained grimace. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing.” William smiled beatifically back. “I was just noticing how wonderful it is that spring is here again! All the birds chirping, and the bees buzzing…” William paused to look at them significantly.
They stared blankly back.
“And new couples!” William enunciated. “Young love is so beautiful to see.” Another meaningful look.
Jon could feel himself turning red. Was it possible to will someone to shut up? He was trying, anyway.
“Just remember,” William trilled. “Love can be dangerous sometimes! It’s always good to protect oneself from any, er, ills that the culmination of love can inadvertently produce.”
He paused again, waiting for a reaction. When they just gaped, he shrugged, patted Jon on the shoulder and smiled mistily at them both before traipsing away.
Finally, Spencer spoke. “Is he…always like that?”
“You don’t know him that well?”
“Not really. I mean. He’s a senior. And I’m a junior.” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “Our paths don’t exactly cross often.”
“I’m a senior,” Jon offered up.
An awkward pause, and then “I know.”
Jon smiled self-consciously. “Well, yeah, William is pretty much like that, from what I’ve seen. I kind of think talking to him is the verbal equivalent of a bad acid trip. While reading Webster’s dictionary.”
“Haha, yeah.” Spencer’s smile looked forced and awkward. “Um, I need to get going now; did you get all the pictures you needed?”
“Yeah, sure. It’s almost the end of the period, anyway.”
“Right.” Spencer smiled at him a little more genuinely. “I’ll see you.”
“Yeah,” Jon said.
Spencer walked away.
* * *
Jon stared down at the phone clasped in his hands. God, when did he turn into such a cliché? He’d begun dialing Spencer’s number three times now, and hung up every single time before he could finish dialing. He kind of regretted making fun of all those stupid teen romance movies now, since apparently his life’s turned into one.
He frowned at himself, and punched in the numbers again, pressing send before he could talk himself out of it.
“’Lo?”
“Hey, Spencer, it’s Jon.”
“Hey. What’s going on?”
“Uh, well, Gabe’s throwing a party tonight.” Jon had found out Gabe’s name only a few days ago, when Pete introduced him to the guy he’d seen on his first day chanting and lighting candles. “And, uh. I mean, I just wanted to know….I was wondering if you wanted to go. To the party.” Fuck. Jon could hear himself stumbling over the words, but couldn’t seem to do anything to stop it. If this had happened back in Chicago, Tom would probably be laughing his ass off right now. Hell, if this had happened back in Chicago, he probably wouldn’t be stuttering and stupid and completely, painfully out of his element right now. Jon fought back a pang of nostalgia.
“Gabe’s party?” Spencer said hesitantly. “Um, I think we, well, Ryan and Brendon and I, were kind of planning on doing a movie night, or something. I think Ryan had some French movie he wanted to see.”
“Oh.” Jon paused uncomfortably. He’d crashed and burned, he thought to himself inanely, like that one Savage Garden song. Was he supposed to hang up now?
“But, I mean. I don’t have to go.” Spencer huffed a laugh into the phone. "It’s kind of a pain reading subtitles, anyway. Also, watching them flirt is…awkward.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. So…” Jon waited, trying not to sound too eager.
“Sure, why not?”
“Great. I’ll. I’ll pick you up then. At eight tonight.” Jon held his breath.
“Cool.” Spencer cleared his throat. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah.” Jon hung up before Spencer could change his mind (and before he could make a complete fool out of himself). He looked back down at the phone in his hands, grinning so hard it hurt.
* * *
Gabe hummed along to the music, looking proudly over the room. It looked like someone had passed out already, and beer cans were upturned all over the place. His favorite kind of party. This was definitely going to be a great time.
The front door creaked open to reveal Jon. He was dressed more neatly than usual, and had exchanged his usual worn flip flops for what looked like new canvas ones. Gabe’s eyes narrowed. Something was going on.
Then Jon stepped fully into the house, bringing Spencer into view behind him. Were they…holding hands?
Gabe discreetly closed his gaping mouth. This needed some more investigation.
“Hey. Hey, Victoria.” He sidled up alongside the beautiful brunette. “Did JWalk bring along a boy thing to play with, or have I already drunk too much?” Gabe regarded his half empty cup fondly.
She frowned in thought, looking at Jon and Spencer. “I’m pretty sure they’re not dating officially yet, but they’re stumbling toward something. William mentioned that he caught them in apparently compromising positions, but, well. You know William.” She raised her finely manicured eyebrow expressively.
“Yeah. I do.” Gabe smiled to himself. “I can’t believe I never saw this coming, though.” He took another sip of stale beer.
She looked at him exasperatedly, but Gabe didn’t really mind. It was kind of her default expression whenever he was around.
“The whole school saw it coming, Gabe. Jon was head over fucking heels for Spencer since his first day. It’s kind of blindingly obvious.” She gave him a pointed look. “Maybe if you stopped smoking so much peyote and actually pulled your head out of your ass once in a while, you’d notice more than Bill’s tight ass.”
Gabe smirked back. “You know I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
Victoria rolled her eyes elaborately, her eye make-up shimmering in the dim strobe lights. They stood in silence for a few moments, observing the couple.
Jon was staring at Spencer intently, while Spencer was looking at the ground, a small smile on his lips. His hip was cocked out to the side towards Jon, though, and Jon was definitely noticing. Noticing and appreciating.
Huh. Gabe had to admit that they were pretty obvious.
"You know, Vicky-T, I think the Cobra approves of this one,” he remarked, rubbing her shoulders affectionately. On the other side of the room, Spencer leaned into Jon, laughing. “The Cobra definitely approves.”
* * *
A weird techno beat pulsed around them, the smell of sweat and beer and vomit heavy in the air. Jon watched Spencer as he talked. Strobe lights illuminated his skin in strange patterns, somehow making the contours of his face look sharper, older.
A little way behind Spencer, the redheaded kid Pete sat with at lunch was standing still, looking intently at an ipod. Nearby, Pete was talking to Joe and playing ridiculously bad air guitar. “No, really, I can play this song on my bass, man! I’ll show you sometime.”
The kid looked up suddenly. “You play bass?”
Pete’s eyes lit up, and he grinned, showcasing large white teeth. “I play bass like a motherfucking beast,” he breathed.
The kid looked skeptical, but—for once—interested in hearing more. Pete looked like he’d won the lottery.
Jon laughed quietly and turned his attention back to Spencer. Apparently, beer made Spencer ramble on and on. It was adorable.
“—and then, God, Brendon just ran at the guy, but this was, like, in fourth grade, and Brendon was fucking tiny. I mean, he’s short now, but back then, he probably could have passed as a midget. So Brendon charged him, and he just kind of, he kind of bounced off,” Spencer was laughing now, the corners of his eyes crinkled happily, “he must have flown back three feet and landed on his ass. Ryan just sat there, eating a fruit roll-up, like he couldn’t even see them.”
Jon grinned. “What were you doing?”
“Oh. Well, I…” Spencer scratched the back of his head, and his face flushed red. “I just screamed at the guy I’d go tell the teacher, you know. Something. He left us alone after that. I think Brendon kinda freaked him out.”
Jon chuckled lightly, leaning back on his heels. Spencer was well along on his third cup of beer, and now he was slurring and laughing at the smallest provocation. It was probably the cutest thing Jon had ever seen.
“JWalk!” A large hand clapped onto Jon’s shoulder. “And Guest.”
Gabe smiled magnanimously at Spencer over Jon’s head. “It’s so loud in here, you guys probably can’t even hear each other.”
Gabe’s eyes widened like he suddenly had a brilliant idea. “Why don’t I direct you to a quieter place?”
Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Spencer by the shoulder as well, and steered them into a narrow hallway. He stopped at an empty room, and shoved them in. Smirking, Gabe left as quickly as he came.
“Uh…” Spencer looked around the room dubiously. It was dimly lit by several snake-shaped candles. A large, king-sized bed stood proudly in the middle. Faint moaning and thumping could be heard through the walls. “Is this…”
“Yeah,” Jon laughed uncomfortably, “I have no idea.”
He looked at Spencer for a long moment. Spencer’s hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyeliner was smeared. Two spots of red decorated the tops of his cheeks, giving away the earlier beers. Spencer stared back at Jon questioningly, his lip bitten as though he was trying to hold in a giggle.
Shit. Jon would never forgive himself if he made a move on Spencer in the state he was in. But maybe…Maybe just a little kiss on his pink cheek. Or lips. Just a short one.
Jon moved his head toward Spencer, closing in on the few inches between them. Spencer’s breath caught, and his gaze focused lower on Jon’s mouth. Spencer started leaning in too, the tips of their noses just brushing. Jon could smell him now, slightly sour with sweat and musk and beer, and god, his eyelashes looked so much longer up close, framing those amazing eyes, and Jon just really wanted to kiss them, every single individual lash one by one, but not right now, because right now he was—
“FIIIIRE!!!!! FIIIIIIRE!!! Oh my god, SOMEBODY HELP!!!”
Jon and Spencer looked up simultaneously to see Sisky sprinting down the hall without a scrap of clothing on. He was still screaming for help, and part of his afro looked singed.
Seconds later, Gabe walked swiftly past, cursing under his breath.
“Where’s the damn fire extinguisher—Sisky, wait, Sisky, don’t go outside!! For fuck’s sake, man, you’re still naked!”
William’s head popped out of the room across from theirs.
“Naked?” William swiveled his head left to right. “Where?” He looked disturbingly eager.
Jon sighed and flopped down on the bed, covering his face with his hand. He could pretty safely say that the mood was killed. More than killed. It had been decimated. Obliterated. Ripped to shreds, never to return. Jon frowned. He was spending too much time around William.
He removed his hand to see Spencer staring down at him, looking concerned and distressingly appealing. “You all right, Jonny?” he asked, words slurring together.
“Yeah. Sure.” Jon tried to smile reassuringly. “I’ll give you a ride home, Spence. It’s getting late anyway.”
* * *
The cafeteria buzzed with people chatting and laughing. Jon tapped his fingers restlessly on his leg. He and Spencer were almost to the front of the lunch line after waiting for what felt like an hour.
“So,” Jon started, smiling. “What are you in the mood for?”
“I dunno, Jon,” Spencer grinned. “I really feel like some crappy fries. Or maybe a shitty corndog. Both with side orders of indigestion, of course.”
“Yeeeah…I kind of feel like some undercooked tater tots, myself.” Jon grinned back and scooted his tray forward, then looked up to speak with the server. “Hey, Alex, can you grab me a plate of those?” He looked expectantly at the short kid.
Alex didn’t smile back. “It’s Cash,” the kid said sullenly without moving.
“Uh, what? I don’t have any money on me, only my student ID. Is my lunch account out of cash?” Jon asked curiously.
“No.” The kid rolled his eyes. “I’m Cash. As in, it’s my name.”
“Oh.” Jon furrowed his brow. “Sorry, I thought that--”
“Yeah, no,” Cash interrupted. “Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday are Alex, I’m Cash, and Friday’s Ian,” he recited boredly. It sounded like he’d made this spiel before.
“Weird. I could’ve sworn Brendon told me all of you guys were named Alex.”
Behind him, Spencer snorted. Cash’s face colored.
“Well, Brendon’s not exactly a genius,” Cash muttered. He was still blushing furiously, and shoved the tater tots at Jon without saying anything else.
Jon waited for Spencer before grabbing his tray and walking to their table.
“So…Cash has a pretty huge crush, doesn’t he?” Jon guessed.
“On Brendon? Yeah.” Spencer smirked. “You should see him when Brendon buys lunch. Always stuttering and blushing. I don’t think he’s ever corrected Brendon on his name, actually. Must be true love,” Spencer said flippantly.
“Yeah. It must get awkward, though. I mean, since Brendon and Ryan are dating. Ryan seems kind of like the jealous kind.”
Spencer shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve given up on even trying to understand Ryan’s love life since that rabid bunny incident in 2nd grade.” He frowned and rubbed his wrist reminiscently. “Also, they’re not dating,” he added as an afterthought.
Jon stopped walking. He tried to focus on the sentence that was least confusing, and then gave up and finally said, “Brendon and Ryan aren’t dating? But…they’re like…” Jon waved his hand around vaguely.
Spencer smiled. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He rolled his eyes. “The entire school knows what you mean. But they’ve just been dancing around each other for years. It’s pretty nauseating.” He paused. “Ryan actually has a girlfriend, too. The amount of denial they’re in blows my mind sometimes.”
“A girlfriend?” Jon was pretty sure his eyes couldn’t get any physically bigger. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Oh, no. I think she’s cheating on him, though. He’ll find out sooner or later. Personally, I think he’s just waiting for an excuse to dump her.”
“You’re not going to say anything?” Jon asked cautiously, not wanting to offend. Spencer and Ryan had been best friends for longer than he could really imagine.
“Nah. Remember what I said about the rabid bunny? I’m definitely not getting involved in Ry’s mess of a love life again.” Spencer shuddered. “Plus, he gets really weird about anyone trying to meddle in his stuff.”
“Right…” Jon shook his head. He was pretty sure he was more confused now than before Spencer started explaining.
Spencer caught his look, and started laughing. “I dunno, man. It’s a pretty tangled web. Hey. Um,” Spencer took a breath and leaned closer, “do you know a girl named Haley? I think she might be in Physics with you.”
Jon frowned in thought, trying to go through all his classmates in his mind.
“Haley? Does she have brown hair?”
“Yeah.” Spencer nodded excitedly.
“I know her, yeah. Why?”
“Oh.” Spencer’s eyes slid sideways, and a pink tinge started to move down his neck. “No reason.”
Jon frowned, feeling unsettled.
* * *
Clean lines, straight answers, distinct categories. Those were the sort of things Spencer liked. Neat things. He was an organized kind of guy.
Some people called him obsessive-compulsive, or a control freak. Which might be a little bit true, but Spencer, well. He just liked knowing where things stood, you know?
Brendon and Ryan had always been easy to define. Since the moment he met them, they were firmly implanted in his Best Friends box. A few years later, he added the label Morons in Love. Because, well. They were.
It got harder for new people. But usually, after a few weeks, Spencer could manage to fit them in a box too, whether it was Friends, Acquaintances, or Jackasses Extraordinaire. Jon, though…Jon Walker seemed to be a different matter altogether.
It had been a few weeks already, and Spencer still couldn’t decide on a category. The Friends box somehow seemed insufficient, but Jon definitely wasn’t his best friend, either.
Yeah, Jon was something else entirely. Spencer just wasn’t sure what, yet.
* * *
Spencer walked more quickly to catch up with Victoria’s long legs. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Hey, it’s Victoria, right?”
She slowed and looked at him. “Yeah. And you’re Spencer.” She smiled warmly.
“Right,” Spencer replied in surprise. How did she know him?
“What can I do for you, Spencer Smith?”
“Well, I was wondering if you knew this girl. Her name’s Haley.”
“Yes…” Victoria trailed off and looked at him inquiringly.
“Yeah, um.” Spencer smiled embarrassedly. “I’ve been wanting to ask her out, but, well, I don’t even know if she knows my name, so--"
“What?” Victoria’s eyebrows drew together, and she pressed her red lips into a tight line.
“Uh,” Spencer began, confused by the sudden mood change, “I—”
“What about Jon?” she interrupted.
Spencer eyed her. “What about Jon?” he asked slowly.
“Does he know about this?”
Spencer shrugged. “Why should he?”
*CRACK!*
It felt like pinpricks of needles were sticking into his face. Spencer stumbled back, holding a hand to his stinging cheek. “What the hell? Did you just slap me?”
“I cannot believe all the boys in this school are so completely stupid,” she hissed as though he hadn’t spoken. “Are you blind? Mentally retarded? Do I need to use smaller words, Spencer?”
“What? Look, I have no idea what you’re even talking about, I--”
“You can’t possibly have missed Jon practically courting you for two weeks! What did you think he was doing, Spencer? Have you even seen the way he looks at you? This is so pathetic. I can’t believe I’m even explaining this to you. I can’t believe I even need to.” Victoria spoke faster and faster the angrier she got, which really wasn’t making Spencer understand her any better.
“I-Jon--” Spencer felt he had stumbled into this conversation halfway through. None of it was making any sense.
“You know, I really don’t know what Jon sees in you. Or why he’s trying so hard.” She looked him up and down dismissively, then walked away, heels clicking angrily.
Spencer stared after her openmouthed, feeling like he’d just been hit by a train. He’d been warned by some friends about the way she absolutely bowled guys over when they met her, but he had thought they meant that in more of a sexy way. Not a violent way.
Spencer furrowed his brow. Jon…She couldn’t possibly be right. Spencer would definitely have noticed. Although there was that strange moment when they were taking pictures in the courtyard. And at the party…Spencer shook his head confusedly. His memory of the night was still really fuzzy, but now that he thought about it, wasn’t there a bed, and Jon leaning forward…
Shit.
Spencer slid down to the floor and put his head in his hands. How’d he get this so wrong?
* * *
Jon strolled through the corridor lazily, humming a tune in his head and kind of bopping along. Sliding his hand against the wall, he absentmindedly wondered where Spencer was. He’d barely seen him at all yesterday or this morning.
Turning right, he walked into the courtyard.
“Hey, Jon! Wait up!”
He spun around and saw Spencer jogging to catch up with him.
“Hey, Spence.” He smiled. “How’s it going?”
“Great.” Spencer smiled back nervously.
“Is something wrong?” Jon took in his tense shoulders and the line between his eyebrows. “You look kind of…”
“Yeah. Um. I…” Spencer blinked and made a face at himself. “I, uh—Screw it.”
He walked forward determinedly, grabbed Jon’s neck with his hand, and kissed him hard. Their mouths slammed together awkwardly, and Jon’s nose got forcibly pushed toward the side.
Spencer moved back a second later, watching Jon’s face anxiously.
“I—Spence…” Jon stared at him in happy disbelief (and also a bit of pain. That was some seriously intense kissing technique Spencer had there).
“Yeah. I’m really sorry. I was…I was just really stupid. Um.” Spencer fumbled for words for a few more minutes, and then, giving up, just stepped forward again. He pushed his lips to Jon’s more gently, coaxing his mouth open. He felt Jon smile under him and moved a hand to clasp the back of his head.
Spencer was a really good kisser once you got past the pain of impact, Jon noted dimly in the back of his head. He tried to tug Spencer’s head closer, bringing his other hand up to stroke Spencer’s jaw.
Gradually, they became aware of whistles and catcalls behind them. Jon turned around reluctantly to see what looked like half the school crowded in the courtyard, all trumpeting loud approval. Awesome.
Pete was jumping up and down, hooting and cackling. His hand was entwined with the short, chubby kid’s. Victoria was standing near the back, looking at Spencer with grudging admiration. Next to her, William wiped away crocodile tears.
Ryan and Brendon were standing right in the front, looking shell-shocked. Brendon was opening and closing his mouth soundlessly. Spencer smiled.
Jon laughed, and moved his hand down to curl around Spencer’s. He put his mouth next to Spencer’s ear, and whispered, “Want to go somewhere more private?”
He felt Spencer’s ear move as he grinned. “Yeah. Let’s.”
End.
Title: St-St-Stutter Something Profound
Rating: PG13 for swearing and a brief mention of nudity (although not in a sexual context)
Pairing: Jon/Spencer, hints of Brendon/Ryan
Summary: Brendon and Ryan are oblivious. Spencer is confused. And Jon is just kind of lost, because he's new to this school, okay, and sometimes, a guy needs a little help. High school au.
Disclaimer: Fake fic about real people! Like the tabloids, only better.
Author Notes: This is a sequel of sorts to The High School Knows Something I Don't Know, but it can definitely be read as a standalone. Also, a million thanks to my long-suffering beta,
chaoticallyclev, for putting up with my frequent freak-outs, rants, and whines. You deserve a medal, seriously. <333 Jon prided himself on being a pretty laid-back kind of guy. The sort that took life as it came, and never made too big a fuss over anything.
So when his parents told him, “hey, by the way, we’re moving to Las Vegas,” he was like, “sure, okay, just let me grab my flip flops and I’ll be ready to go.” Of course, he wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the move. But he also knew that he wouldn’t gain anything but a grounding if he argued about it.
Jon tried to be practical about this kind of stuff.
So he said his good-byes to Tom and Sean and the rest of the band (the fuckers promised to let him come be their groupie as soon as they found a replacement bassist for him and got rich and famous), put Dylan in her little cat carrier, and tried to feel happy that in Las Vegas, he could probably wear his flip flops outside without worrying about frostbite.
And now he was actually here, in the city of blinding neon lights, fake boobs, and sequin-encrusted shit.
So, maybe he wasn’t as zen about the location change as he liked to pretend. But hell, it was the middle of the school year, and he was about to be a senior in an entire high school full of complete strangers.
Jon was entitled to at least a little bit of bitching, okay?
* * *
Jon’s eyes roamed lazily over the crowded cafeteria, scoping out his surroundings. He nodded along to the story Pete was telling him. This new school seemed to have way more defined social boundaries than his old one in Chicago. Most of the tables spread out around the cafeteria all had people divided into distinct groups. It depressed him.
William and Mike (both in his English class) sat in one corner, talking in furtive whispers. William was rubbing his side through a hole in his worn T-shirt. The shirt looked rather like it had been involved in a vicious deathmatch with either the washing machine or William’s ribs.
Sisky and Andy, from his health class, sat nearby. It sounded like Sisky was expounding upon his culinary habits (he had been talking about pizza and was now transitioning to cereal) at great length. Andy nodded along and tried to braid Sisky’s afro into pigtails, with a surprising amount of success. Sisky didn’t look half bad as a schoolgirl.
And Jon was sitting in the middle, pretending to listen to Pete, who had been talking for twenty minutes straight about his “mad soccer skills”. (Without stopping for breath, either. Jon had no idea soccer players had such amazing lung capacity.)
Jon looked away from Pete’s hand-waving and observed the rest of the school.
In one corner of the cafeteria sat a guy hunched over in a hoodie. He was sketching intently and, even from this distance, somehow looked vaguely unwashed. A younger kid sat next to him. Gigantic headphones covered half his head as he peered at a textbook through smudged glasses. They sat there alone, with other students sitting in a wide circle away from them.
Jon turned in the other direction, over to the table right next to his own. A tall Hispanic guy chanted some gibberish while—Jon rubbed his eyes disbelievingly. He looked like he was lighting candles, but none of the nearby teachers seemed worried by the obvious fire hazard. Which—oh. The girl sitting next to him was flipping through a magazine and simultaneously pinching out each candle as he lit them. The guy didn’t notice. Three other seniors sat by them, looking bored, like this was a routine they went through every single day.
“Dude, Jon, Jon, are you even listening to me?”
He turned back to Pete. “Sure, man,” Jon said easily. “It’s just kind of hard to hear since it’s so loud, you know?”
Pete nodded distractedly, then continued detailing his (apparently) amazing soccer prowess without skipping a beat. Jon smirked to himself. It wasn’t like this list of Pete’s many wonderful qualities was being given for his benefit, anyway.
A short reddish-blond kid sat across from them. Unfortunately for Pete, the kid looked engrossed in furiously finishing his math homework. Little wisps of hair peeked out from under his trucker hat as he turned his head from the textbook to the paper to his calculator.
The kid wore a blue argyle sweater over a pair of shorts. Some black knee socks completed the bizarre ensemble. Mentally, Jon shrugged. To each their own, right? He looked down at his own flip flops and wriggled his toes happily.
“And then I feinted to the left and lunged to the right and then kicked really hard,” Pete narrated enthusiastically, waving his arms around, “and then I scored the winning goal, man, the winning goal!” Pete looked sideways to check if the kid was listening.
He wasn’t. He was, however, engaged in what looked like some seriously fierce battle with his paper and eraser. There was the sound of tearing paper as the eraser poked its head through triumphantly.
The corners of Pete’s mouth turned down slightly. But undeterred, Pete launched into yet another episode in his seemingly undefeated soccer career.
Jon shook his head, a smile curling at the ends of his lips, and went back to looking around the cafeteria. The school was okay, but seemed awfully small after his gigantic high school in Chicago.
A small group in the center of the room caught his attention. A skinny guy with dark brown hair—Jon thought his name might be Brendon, from Algebra—talked excitedly to another kid with brown hair. The kid looked up, saying something in reply, and wow. He had the clearest pale blue eyes. Jon stared. And then Brendon must have said something funny, because the kid just smiled.
Jon blinked. Did the room suddenly get brighter? Hotter? Somehow harder to breathe? He tugged at the edge of the collar of his shirt, and looked up at the overhead lights to check, but then looked down again, feeling stupid.
He glanced back at the table. The kid was still smiling, but more subdued now. Soft brown hair had fallen slightly over one eye, brushing over a round cheek.
Jon stood up abruptly, rocking the table.
“Something wrong, dude?” Pete asked.
“Yeah, no. I mean. I think I have to go. Over there.” Jon started walking over to Brendon’s table without any further explanation. He could practically feel Pete’s bewildered eyes boring into his back. Well, Pete would just have to deal.
Jon stopped in front of their table, and then suddenly felt incredibly awkward. The kid had stopped smiling, and instead looked at Jon with a slightly bitchy, why-are-you-standing-in-front-of-our-table-like-a-freak glare.
“Uh, hey, Brendon,” he addressed the brunet, “I’m Jon. Um, we’re in the same math class. With Mr. Hartford?”
The guy stared with his mouth slightly opened. It looked like he’d been eating fries.
Jon winced. Did he get the name wrong?
He finally reacted. “Oh, right. Hey! You just moved here from Chicago, right? That’s so awesome.” Brendon grinned happily. “Sit down, Jonny Walker! It’s okay if I call you that, right?”
Jon shrugged, smiling back. “I don’t mind.”
He slid onto the bench next to Brendon, right across from the kid.
“So, this is Ryan,” Brendon gestured grandly to a bored-looking kid with a faux-hawk, “and this is Spencer!”
“Hey.” Jon’s smile widened.
Spencer had broad shoulders, he noted appreciatively. And a pale neck, and some soft, pink lips that he really just wanted to bite into.
Jon forced himself to move his gaze upward, looking at the round cheeks he saw earlier, sliding up a cute, slightly upturned nose, and then settling on those seriously pretty eyes. Which were looking right at him.
Spencer twitched an eyebrow upward. Jon grinned back.
“Where’s your lunch, dude?” Brendon’s voice broke in.
“Oh.” Jon shrugged vaguely, waving in Pete’s direction. “Somewhere over there.” He didn’t take his eyes off Spencer’s. Who needed lunch, anyway?
“Wait.” Ryan perked up and leaned forward eagerly. “You know Pete Wentz?”
Brendon sighed, eyes narrowing slightly. The faintly annoyed look seemed out of place on his face, as though he didn’t get very much practice in being angry.
“Uh, yeah. I think we’re in English together,” Jon replied.
“Seriously? Oh man, have you heard his poetry? He’s brilliant!” Ryan’s voice cracked slightly on the last word.
“I still can’t believe you stalk his fucking livejournal,” Brendon muttered resentfully. “How much more pathetic can you get?”
Ryan ignored him. “Wow. Really, can you, um, introduce us or something?” He looked at Jon, eyes shining.
Jon looked uncomfortably from him to Brendon. An undercurrent of tension had suddenly started up. Something was definitely going on. He peered closer at them.
Brendon had his foot pushed in at an awkward angle, so that their knees lined up and bumped against each other. Even when talking to Jon, Ryan always had his head tilted towards Brendon. And right now Brendon looked like he wanted to kill someone. Preferably someone with horsey teeth, stupid hair, and a name that rhymed with Sweet Fence. Of course. It was so obvious.
“Um…” Jon turned back towards Pete’s table.
Pete was still waving his arms in the air, mouth moving at an alarmingly fast pace. The short kid was still scribbling frantically, although it looked like he had since moved on to Spanish homework. “Right now I think he’s kind of busy.” Getting ignored, Jon added in his head.
“Oh.” Ryan looked crestfallen.
On the other hand, Brendon had brightened up noticeably. Jon exhaled in a laugh and looked back at Spencer, who was poking dubiously at the cafeteria food. At least now he knew Spencer wasn’t homophobic; he couldn’t be with his two best friends dating. And that was definitely a step in the right direction.
* * *
Fiddling absentmindedly with his camera, Jon walked down the hall to the library. Spencer was…pretty amazing, he thought to himself, grinning faintly. Maybe Las Vegas wasn’t so bad after all.
The rest of lunch had been spent with Brendon making increasingly bad jokes and Ryan flicking him on the nose or ear or whatever body part happened to be handy. Brendon just smiled through all the abuse, basking in the attention. Spencer stayed mostly silent, but offered up witty one-liners every so often. For himself, Jon had been perfectly content just staring at Spencer.
To Spencer’s credit, he hadn’t looked too weirded out.
Jon smiled ruefully. The last time he’d stared dumbstruck like that was when he was twelve, locked in his bedroom with a smuggled copy of his brother’s Playboy. And hopefully, he’d matured since then, although the past few hours seemed determined to prove him wrong.
Pulling open the library door, Jon let himself into the quiet room. He still needed to snap some pictures for Photography class during his study period, but it was kind of difficult to do portraits without a model.
And…There was Spencer, sitting in front of a computer. Well.
Jon made his way over leisurely. The slaps of his flip flops against the tiled floor sounded jarringly loud.
He stopped just behind Spencer, watching him finish up an email to someone named bden5033@yahoo.com.
“Hey, Ryan,” Spencer said without turning around.
“Ah, no, it’s Jon. From lunch,” he clarified.
“Oh, sorry.” Spencer swiveled around in his chair. “What’s up?”
“Actually, I kind of need a favor.”
“A favor?” His eyebrows rose.
“Yeah. I have to take some pictures for Photography class, and, well, I need a model.” Jon tried to smile disarmingly.
“Um, me? I don’t…I’m probably not the best candidate for that…”
Jon stepped closer unconsciously and slipped into the chair next to him. “No, really, I’ve been experimenting with some different developing techniques, and the color of your eyes would totally work well with the effect I’m going for, I think.” He reached forward, smoothing two fingers over Spencer’s cheek.
Spencer jerked away reflexively, blushing pink.
Jon put his fingers back in his lap quickly, suppressing a smile. “Anyway, you’re also one of the only guys I know here, so…”
Spencer thought for a minute, then shrugged. “Sure, okay. I’m not really doing anything here, anyway.”
“Great!” Jon grinned. He seemed to smile a lot around Spencer. “So hey, let’s go out to the courtyard. I’ll get better lighting out there, and, yeah...”
They walked outside silently. It was a nice day in May, and several other students milled about, enjoying the sunshine.
“So.” Spencer grinned suddenly, bright and wonderful. “How do you want me?”
Jon could feel his mouth open slightly, and he stumbled, feeling the tips of his ears heat up. What were they talking about again?
“Um.” Jon tried to reorganize his thoughts, unable to tear his gaze away from that smile. “How about against that tree? Just act natural or something. Like I’m not here,” he added helpfully.
Spencer rolled his eyes at that, but did as told. He leaned against the tree, his pale skin a startling contrast against the dark bark. Cocking his hip out, he settled himself more comfortably.
Jon stared, momentarily forgetting the camera in his hands. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that staring so much was rude and probably more than a little creepy, but his eyes didn’t seem to get the message.
Shakily, he raised his camera to his face, and started snapping shots.
After a few moments, Jon started up a steady stream of conversation. How long have you known Ryan and Brendon? What do you guys do in your free time? Was today special, or is the cafeteria food always this bad? Do you realize that I really just want to forget this stupid assignment and do criminal things with your hips?
Well. Maybe not the last one.
Anyway, it worked. Spencer relaxed, and started posing more naturally.
Time flew past as Jon took more and more photos. Spencer laughing, Spencer smirking, Spencer smiling, Spencer talking, Spencer looking at him like he was stupid (which took up a majority of the pictures).
Jon walked up and put his hand on Spencer’s cheek to tilt his head slightly to the right, to catch more of the sunshine filtering in through the branches. His gaze refused to move past Spencer’s mouth again, though.
Spencer’s lips were red and shiny from when he’d licked them a second before. Almost involuntarily, Jon moved closer, his hand still positioned on Spencer’s cheek. He could feel Spencer’s breath now; it was warm and kind of moist. Jon leaned in, his heart thumping loud in his ears.
“Jonny boy!”
Spencer and Jon both jerked backwards, Spencer banging his head against the tree and Jon almost losing his grip on the camera.
“William.” Jon tried to smile at him, although he had a feeling it looked more like a pained grimace. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing.” William smiled beatifically back. “I was just noticing how wonderful it is that spring is here again! All the birds chirping, and the bees buzzing…” William paused to look at them significantly.
They stared blankly back.
“And new couples!” William enunciated. “Young love is so beautiful to see.” Another meaningful look.
Jon could feel himself turning red. Was it possible to will someone to shut up? He was trying, anyway.
“Just remember,” William trilled. “Love can be dangerous sometimes! It’s always good to protect oneself from any, er, ills that the culmination of love can inadvertently produce.”
He paused again, waiting for a reaction. When they just gaped, he shrugged, patted Jon on the shoulder and smiled mistily at them both before traipsing away.
Finally, Spencer spoke. “Is he…always like that?”
“You don’t know him that well?”
“Not really. I mean. He’s a senior. And I’m a junior.” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “Our paths don’t exactly cross often.”
“I’m a senior,” Jon offered up.
An awkward pause, and then “I know.”
Jon smiled self-consciously. “Well, yeah, William is pretty much like that, from what I’ve seen. I kind of think talking to him is the verbal equivalent of a bad acid trip. While reading Webster’s dictionary.”
“Haha, yeah.” Spencer’s smile looked forced and awkward. “Um, I need to get going now; did you get all the pictures you needed?”
“Yeah, sure. It’s almost the end of the period, anyway.”
“Right.” Spencer smiled at him a little more genuinely. “I’ll see you.”
“Yeah,” Jon said.
Spencer walked away.
* * *
Jon stared down at the phone clasped in his hands. God, when did he turn into such a cliché? He’d begun dialing Spencer’s number three times now, and hung up every single time before he could finish dialing. He kind of regretted making fun of all those stupid teen romance movies now, since apparently his life’s turned into one.
He frowned at himself, and punched in the numbers again, pressing send before he could talk himself out of it.
“’Lo?”
“Hey, Spencer, it’s Jon.”
“Hey. What’s going on?”
“Uh, well, Gabe’s throwing a party tonight.” Jon had found out Gabe’s name only a few days ago, when Pete introduced him to the guy he’d seen on his first day chanting and lighting candles. “And, uh. I mean, I just wanted to know….I was wondering if you wanted to go. To the party.” Fuck. Jon could hear himself stumbling over the words, but couldn’t seem to do anything to stop it. If this had happened back in Chicago, Tom would probably be laughing his ass off right now. Hell, if this had happened back in Chicago, he probably wouldn’t be stuttering and stupid and completely, painfully out of his element right now. Jon fought back a pang of nostalgia.
“Gabe’s party?” Spencer said hesitantly. “Um, I think we, well, Ryan and Brendon and I, were kind of planning on doing a movie night, or something. I think Ryan had some French movie he wanted to see.”
“Oh.” Jon paused uncomfortably. He’d crashed and burned, he thought to himself inanely, like that one Savage Garden song. Was he supposed to hang up now?
“But, I mean. I don’t have to go.” Spencer huffed a laugh into the phone. "It’s kind of a pain reading subtitles, anyway. Also, watching them flirt is…awkward.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. So…” Jon waited, trying not to sound too eager.
“Sure, why not?”
“Great. I’ll. I’ll pick you up then. At eight tonight.” Jon held his breath.
“Cool.” Spencer cleared his throat. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah.” Jon hung up before Spencer could change his mind (and before he could make a complete fool out of himself). He looked back down at the phone in his hands, grinning so hard it hurt.
* * *
Gabe hummed along to the music, looking proudly over the room. It looked like someone had passed out already, and beer cans were upturned all over the place. His favorite kind of party. This was definitely going to be a great time.
The front door creaked open to reveal Jon. He was dressed more neatly than usual, and had exchanged his usual worn flip flops for what looked like new canvas ones. Gabe’s eyes narrowed. Something was going on.
Then Jon stepped fully into the house, bringing Spencer into view behind him. Were they…holding hands?
Gabe discreetly closed his gaping mouth. This needed some more investigation.
“Hey. Hey, Victoria.” He sidled up alongside the beautiful brunette. “Did JWalk bring along a boy thing to play with, or have I already drunk too much?” Gabe regarded his half empty cup fondly.
She frowned in thought, looking at Jon and Spencer. “I’m pretty sure they’re not dating officially yet, but they’re stumbling toward something. William mentioned that he caught them in apparently compromising positions, but, well. You know William.” She raised her finely manicured eyebrow expressively.
“Yeah. I do.” Gabe smiled to himself. “I can’t believe I never saw this coming, though.” He took another sip of stale beer.
She looked at him exasperatedly, but Gabe didn’t really mind. It was kind of her default expression whenever he was around.
“The whole school saw it coming, Gabe. Jon was head over fucking heels for Spencer since his first day. It’s kind of blindingly obvious.” She gave him a pointed look. “Maybe if you stopped smoking so much peyote and actually pulled your head out of your ass once in a while, you’d notice more than Bill’s tight ass.”
Gabe smirked back. “You know I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
Victoria rolled her eyes elaborately, her eye make-up shimmering in the dim strobe lights. They stood in silence for a few moments, observing the couple.
Jon was staring at Spencer intently, while Spencer was looking at the ground, a small smile on his lips. His hip was cocked out to the side towards Jon, though, and Jon was definitely noticing. Noticing and appreciating.
Huh. Gabe had to admit that they were pretty obvious.
"You know, Vicky-T, I think the Cobra approves of this one,” he remarked, rubbing her shoulders affectionately. On the other side of the room, Spencer leaned into Jon, laughing. “The Cobra definitely approves.”
* * *
A weird techno beat pulsed around them, the smell of sweat and beer and vomit heavy in the air. Jon watched Spencer as he talked. Strobe lights illuminated his skin in strange patterns, somehow making the contours of his face look sharper, older.
A little way behind Spencer, the redheaded kid Pete sat with at lunch was standing still, looking intently at an ipod. Nearby, Pete was talking to Joe and playing ridiculously bad air guitar. “No, really, I can play this song on my bass, man! I’ll show you sometime.”
The kid looked up suddenly. “You play bass?”
Pete’s eyes lit up, and he grinned, showcasing large white teeth. “I play bass like a motherfucking beast,” he breathed.
The kid looked skeptical, but—for once—interested in hearing more. Pete looked like he’d won the lottery.
Jon laughed quietly and turned his attention back to Spencer. Apparently, beer made Spencer ramble on and on. It was adorable.
“—and then, God, Brendon just ran at the guy, but this was, like, in fourth grade, and Brendon was fucking tiny. I mean, he’s short now, but back then, he probably could have passed as a midget. So Brendon charged him, and he just kind of, he kind of bounced off,” Spencer was laughing now, the corners of his eyes crinkled happily, “he must have flown back three feet and landed on his ass. Ryan just sat there, eating a fruit roll-up, like he couldn’t even see them.”
Jon grinned. “What were you doing?”
“Oh. Well, I…” Spencer scratched the back of his head, and his face flushed red. “I just screamed at the guy I’d go tell the teacher, you know. Something. He left us alone after that. I think Brendon kinda freaked him out.”
Jon chuckled lightly, leaning back on his heels. Spencer was well along on his third cup of beer, and now he was slurring and laughing at the smallest provocation. It was probably the cutest thing Jon had ever seen.
“JWalk!” A large hand clapped onto Jon’s shoulder. “And Guest.”
Gabe smiled magnanimously at Spencer over Jon’s head. “It’s so loud in here, you guys probably can’t even hear each other.”
Gabe’s eyes widened like he suddenly had a brilliant idea. “Why don’t I direct you to a quieter place?”
Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Spencer by the shoulder as well, and steered them into a narrow hallway. He stopped at an empty room, and shoved them in. Smirking, Gabe left as quickly as he came.
“Uh…” Spencer looked around the room dubiously. It was dimly lit by several snake-shaped candles. A large, king-sized bed stood proudly in the middle. Faint moaning and thumping could be heard through the walls. “Is this…”
“Yeah,” Jon laughed uncomfortably, “I have no idea.”
He looked at Spencer for a long moment. Spencer’s hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyeliner was smeared. Two spots of red decorated the tops of his cheeks, giving away the earlier beers. Spencer stared back at Jon questioningly, his lip bitten as though he was trying to hold in a giggle.
Shit. Jon would never forgive himself if he made a move on Spencer in the state he was in. But maybe…Maybe just a little kiss on his pink cheek. Or lips. Just a short one.
Jon moved his head toward Spencer, closing in on the few inches between them. Spencer’s breath caught, and his gaze focused lower on Jon’s mouth. Spencer started leaning in too, the tips of their noses just brushing. Jon could smell him now, slightly sour with sweat and musk and beer, and god, his eyelashes looked so much longer up close, framing those amazing eyes, and Jon just really wanted to kiss them, every single individual lash one by one, but not right now, because right now he was—
“FIIIIRE!!!!! FIIIIIIRE!!! Oh my god, SOMEBODY HELP!!!”
Jon and Spencer looked up simultaneously to see Sisky sprinting down the hall without a scrap of clothing on. He was still screaming for help, and part of his afro looked singed.
Seconds later, Gabe walked swiftly past, cursing under his breath.
“Where’s the damn fire extinguisher—Sisky, wait, Sisky, don’t go outside!! For fuck’s sake, man, you’re still naked!”
William’s head popped out of the room across from theirs.
“Naked?” William swiveled his head left to right. “Where?” He looked disturbingly eager.
Jon sighed and flopped down on the bed, covering his face with his hand. He could pretty safely say that the mood was killed. More than killed. It had been decimated. Obliterated. Ripped to shreds, never to return. Jon frowned. He was spending too much time around William.
He removed his hand to see Spencer staring down at him, looking concerned and distressingly appealing. “You all right, Jonny?” he asked, words slurring together.
“Yeah. Sure.” Jon tried to smile reassuringly. “I’ll give you a ride home, Spence. It’s getting late anyway.”
* * *
The cafeteria buzzed with people chatting and laughing. Jon tapped his fingers restlessly on his leg. He and Spencer were almost to the front of the lunch line after waiting for what felt like an hour.
“So,” Jon started, smiling. “What are you in the mood for?”
“I dunno, Jon,” Spencer grinned. “I really feel like some crappy fries. Or maybe a shitty corndog. Both with side orders of indigestion, of course.”
“Yeeeah…I kind of feel like some undercooked tater tots, myself.” Jon grinned back and scooted his tray forward, then looked up to speak with the server. “Hey, Alex, can you grab me a plate of those?” He looked expectantly at the short kid.
Alex didn’t smile back. “It’s Cash,” the kid said sullenly without moving.
“Uh, what? I don’t have any money on me, only my student ID. Is my lunch account out of cash?” Jon asked curiously.
“No.” The kid rolled his eyes. “I’m Cash. As in, it’s my name.”
“Oh.” Jon furrowed his brow. “Sorry, I thought that--”
“Yeah, no,” Cash interrupted. “Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday are Alex, I’m Cash, and Friday’s Ian,” he recited boredly. It sounded like he’d made this spiel before.
“Weird. I could’ve sworn Brendon told me all of you guys were named Alex.”
Behind him, Spencer snorted. Cash’s face colored.
“Well, Brendon’s not exactly a genius,” Cash muttered. He was still blushing furiously, and shoved the tater tots at Jon without saying anything else.
Jon waited for Spencer before grabbing his tray and walking to their table.
“So…Cash has a pretty huge crush, doesn’t he?” Jon guessed.
“On Brendon? Yeah.” Spencer smirked. “You should see him when Brendon buys lunch. Always stuttering and blushing. I don’t think he’s ever corrected Brendon on his name, actually. Must be true love,” Spencer said flippantly.
“Yeah. It must get awkward, though. I mean, since Brendon and Ryan are dating. Ryan seems kind of like the jealous kind.”
Spencer shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve given up on even trying to understand Ryan’s love life since that rabid bunny incident in 2nd grade.” He frowned and rubbed his wrist reminiscently. “Also, they’re not dating,” he added as an afterthought.
Jon stopped walking. He tried to focus on the sentence that was least confusing, and then gave up and finally said, “Brendon and Ryan aren’t dating? But…they’re like…” Jon waved his hand around vaguely.
Spencer smiled. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He rolled his eyes. “The entire school knows what you mean. But they’ve just been dancing around each other for years. It’s pretty nauseating.” He paused. “Ryan actually has a girlfriend, too. The amount of denial they’re in blows my mind sometimes.”
“A girlfriend?” Jon was pretty sure his eyes couldn’t get any physically bigger. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Oh, no. I think she’s cheating on him, though. He’ll find out sooner or later. Personally, I think he’s just waiting for an excuse to dump her.”
“You’re not going to say anything?” Jon asked cautiously, not wanting to offend. Spencer and Ryan had been best friends for longer than he could really imagine.
“Nah. Remember what I said about the rabid bunny? I’m definitely not getting involved in Ry’s mess of a love life again.” Spencer shuddered. “Plus, he gets really weird about anyone trying to meddle in his stuff.”
“Right…” Jon shook his head. He was pretty sure he was more confused now than before Spencer started explaining.
Spencer caught his look, and started laughing. “I dunno, man. It’s a pretty tangled web. Hey. Um,” Spencer took a breath and leaned closer, “do you know a girl named Haley? I think she might be in Physics with you.”
Jon frowned in thought, trying to go through all his classmates in his mind.
“Haley? Does she have brown hair?”
“Yeah.” Spencer nodded excitedly.
“I know her, yeah. Why?”
“Oh.” Spencer’s eyes slid sideways, and a pink tinge started to move down his neck. “No reason.”
Jon frowned, feeling unsettled.
* * *
Clean lines, straight answers, distinct categories. Those were the sort of things Spencer liked. Neat things. He was an organized kind of guy.
Some people called him obsessive-compulsive, or a control freak. Which might be a little bit true, but Spencer, well. He just liked knowing where things stood, you know?
Brendon and Ryan had always been easy to define. Since the moment he met them, they were firmly implanted in his Best Friends box. A few years later, he added the label Morons in Love. Because, well. They were.
It got harder for new people. But usually, after a few weeks, Spencer could manage to fit them in a box too, whether it was Friends, Acquaintances, or Jackasses Extraordinaire. Jon, though…Jon Walker seemed to be a different matter altogether.
It had been a few weeks already, and Spencer still couldn’t decide on a category. The Friends box somehow seemed insufficient, but Jon definitely wasn’t his best friend, either.
Yeah, Jon was something else entirely. Spencer just wasn’t sure what, yet.
* * *
Spencer walked more quickly to catch up with Victoria’s long legs. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Hey, it’s Victoria, right?”
She slowed and looked at him. “Yeah. And you’re Spencer.” She smiled warmly.
“Right,” Spencer replied in surprise. How did she know him?
“What can I do for you, Spencer Smith?”
“Well, I was wondering if you knew this girl. Her name’s Haley.”
“Yes…” Victoria trailed off and looked at him inquiringly.
“Yeah, um.” Spencer smiled embarrassedly. “I’ve been wanting to ask her out, but, well, I don’t even know if she knows my name, so--"
“What?” Victoria’s eyebrows drew together, and she pressed her red lips into a tight line.
“Uh,” Spencer began, confused by the sudden mood change, “I—”
“What about Jon?” she interrupted.
Spencer eyed her. “What about Jon?” he asked slowly.
“Does he know about this?”
Spencer shrugged. “Why should he?”
*CRACK!*
It felt like pinpricks of needles were sticking into his face. Spencer stumbled back, holding a hand to his stinging cheek. “What the hell? Did you just slap me?”
“I cannot believe all the boys in this school are so completely stupid,” she hissed as though he hadn’t spoken. “Are you blind? Mentally retarded? Do I need to use smaller words, Spencer?”
“What? Look, I have no idea what you’re even talking about, I--”
“You can’t possibly have missed Jon practically courting you for two weeks! What did you think he was doing, Spencer? Have you even seen the way he looks at you? This is so pathetic. I can’t believe I’m even explaining this to you. I can’t believe I even need to.” Victoria spoke faster and faster the angrier she got, which really wasn’t making Spencer understand her any better.
“I-Jon--” Spencer felt he had stumbled into this conversation halfway through. None of it was making any sense.
“You know, I really don’t know what Jon sees in you. Or why he’s trying so hard.” She looked him up and down dismissively, then walked away, heels clicking angrily.
Spencer stared after her openmouthed, feeling like he’d just been hit by a train. He’d been warned by some friends about the way she absolutely bowled guys over when they met her, but he had thought they meant that in more of a sexy way. Not a violent way.
Spencer furrowed his brow. Jon…She couldn’t possibly be right. Spencer would definitely have noticed. Although there was that strange moment when they were taking pictures in the courtyard. And at the party…Spencer shook his head confusedly. His memory of the night was still really fuzzy, but now that he thought about it, wasn’t there a bed, and Jon leaning forward…
Shit.
Spencer slid down to the floor and put his head in his hands. How’d he get this so wrong?
* * *
Jon strolled through the corridor lazily, humming a tune in his head and kind of bopping along. Sliding his hand against the wall, he absentmindedly wondered where Spencer was. He’d barely seen him at all yesterday or this morning.
Turning right, he walked into the courtyard.
“Hey, Jon! Wait up!”
He spun around and saw Spencer jogging to catch up with him.
“Hey, Spence.” He smiled. “How’s it going?”
“Great.” Spencer smiled back nervously.
“Is something wrong?” Jon took in his tense shoulders and the line between his eyebrows. “You look kind of…”
“Yeah. Um. I…” Spencer blinked and made a face at himself. “I, uh—Screw it.”
He walked forward determinedly, grabbed Jon’s neck with his hand, and kissed him hard. Their mouths slammed together awkwardly, and Jon’s nose got forcibly pushed toward the side.
Spencer moved back a second later, watching Jon’s face anxiously.
“I—Spence…” Jon stared at him in happy disbelief (and also a bit of pain. That was some seriously intense kissing technique Spencer had there).
“Yeah. I’m really sorry. I was…I was just really stupid. Um.” Spencer fumbled for words for a few more minutes, and then, giving up, just stepped forward again. He pushed his lips to Jon’s more gently, coaxing his mouth open. He felt Jon smile under him and moved a hand to clasp the back of his head.
Spencer was a really good kisser once you got past the pain of impact, Jon noted dimly in the back of his head. He tried to tug Spencer’s head closer, bringing his other hand up to stroke Spencer’s jaw.
Gradually, they became aware of whistles and catcalls behind them. Jon turned around reluctantly to see what looked like half the school crowded in the courtyard, all trumpeting loud approval. Awesome.
Pete was jumping up and down, hooting and cackling. His hand was entwined with the short, chubby kid’s. Victoria was standing near the back, looking at Spencer with grudging admiration. Next to her, William wiped away crocodile tears.
Ryan and Brendon were standing right in the front, looking shell-shocked. Brendon was opening and closing his mouth soundlessly. Spencer smiled.
Jon laughed, and moved his hand down to curl around Spencer’s. He put his mouth next to Spencer’s ear, and whispered, “Want to go somewhere more private?”
He felt Spencer’s ear move as he grinned. “Yeah. Let’s.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-08 12:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-08 11:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-08 01:48 am (UTC)This is so adorable. I love highschool AU's, especially when they're not angsty. Just cuddly and sweet and confusing and boycrush!esque....
I adore this.
Oh, and SC!!!!
<3
~Katie
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-08 11:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-08 02:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-08 11:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-08 08:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-08 11:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-09 08:21 pm (UTC)Loved the awkward kissing part :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-12 02:58 am (UTC)Thanks so much!!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-09 11:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-12 03:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-04 04:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-05 12:36 am (UTC)