Get Up and Shake the Glitter Off Your Clothes (Brendon/Spencer) 4/5
Back to Part 3.
“He thinks it’s a joke,” Spencer complains miserably. He’s curled up on Ryan’s ratty old sofa, the one he’d gotten from a flea market because he liked the hideous orange and brown pattern. Ryan insists that it’s not old, it’s vintage, but Spencer’s pretty sure vintage things don’t smell of cats.
“And you don’t,” Ryan says, in a maddeningly calm tone. Spencer glares.
“Obviously,” he says. “I just. Fuck. I’m in love with him, Ryan. Actually stupidly head over fucking heels for him. I’m in love with my husband and our marriage is just for convenience and we’re fucking because it’s convenient but the way I feel about him isn’t. At all.”
Ryan nods slowly. “Does he know?”
Spencer shakes his head. “I hope not. I mean. Fuck. He’ll probably figure it out now, if he hadn’t already.”
Ryan frowns. “What happened?”
Spencer shifts uncomfortably. “I was fucking him,” he begins and Ryan holds up a hand.
“Really don’t need to know that,” he cuts in and Spencer makes a face.
“During…after, really. He said he loved me. And I freaked out because he doesn’t mean it, but I do. And I can’t say it back because it’ll be the truth. But it’s not the truth for him. And if I say it, he’ll know. And if he knows, it’s going to fuck everything up. Everything, Ryan. Not just my marriage, but the band too.”
Spencer almost expects Ryan to freak out at him, to tell him that messing with the band is crossing a line, but Ryan just shakes his head slowly.
“Spence, I don’t think-” he starts, but Spencer doesn’t get to find out what Ryan doesn’t think. Ryan’s phone is ringing and Ryan reaches for it and picks it up.
“Hello?” he says and darts his eyes towards Spencer. “Yeah,” he says, unfolding his long limbs from the chair and wandering out of the room.
Spencer picks at the ugly upholstery while Ryan’s gone. It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryan appears in the doorway, snapping his phone shut with a finality Spencer’s not sure he likes.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Ryan tells him, which is the sort of reaction Spencer had expected. What he hadn’t expected was for Ryan to say, “Brendon feels the same way you do, you moron.”
Spencer stares at him. “What?”
Ryan sighs and sits back down. “That was Shane. Brendon just called him in hysterics because he told you how he felt and instead of acting like a rational human being and returning the sentiment, you bolted and left him alone thinking he’d scared you away with his honesty.”
Spencer shakes his head. “No. Brendon doesn’t feel that way about me. He…he said this was just temporary. That the only reason we were doing what we’re doing is because he doesn’t want to break his vows. He can’t…I’d have known.”
“He didn’t know about you feeling the same,” Ryan points out. “Still doesn’t, actually. Even though all the rest of us know.”
Spencer swallows. “All?”
Ryan nods. “You don’t agree to pretend to be properly married to someone for no reason. And you don’t watch them with a goofy look on your face unless you love them either. So.”
“Fuck,” Spencer says, and Ryan nods again.
“Maybe you should go and tell Brendon the truth,” Ryan suggests. “Instead of letting him sit there and think he’s fucked everything up.”
“You’re sure he feels the same?” Spencer asks when Ryan gets up and pulls Spencer to his feet. He starts pushing Spencer towards the door.
“Yes,” Ryan says. “Positive. Stop being a fucking pussy and go and tell him.”
Spencer hesitates just outside. “But what if-”
“I am going to call Brendon and tell him you’re being a dick and that you have something important to tell him,” Ryan threatens. “Get home before I do that, okay?”
Spencer nods and gets in the car and drives.
He thinks about how long he’s had feelings, of some sort or another, for Brendon. He thinks about how long Brendon could possibly have had feelings for Spencer, whether it’s a new thing, whether it’s been going on for awhile. It’s not until he pulls up outside their house that he realises it doesn’t matter.
Brendon is sitting in the big armchair in the den when Spencer walks in. He jumps up when he sees Spencer, looking nervous.
“Shit, Spence, sorry, I didn’t mean-” Brendon starts but Spencer interrupts him.
“I love you too,” he blurts out and Brendon stares at him for a long moment, long enough for Spencer’s stomach to try and turn inside out.
He’s almost sure Brendon doesn’t feel the same, that Ryan was wrong, but then Brendon laughs and takes a hesitant step towards Spencer, and then another. When he’s close enough, he throws himself into Spencer’s arms and it’s like something out of the cheesy romance novels Spencer and Ryan had vowed to deny reading when they were 11 and 12 years old, but it’s perfect too.
They kiss, and even though they’ve kissed before- during sex, that time before Brendon’s parents visited, that time they were playing drinking games with Gabe, when Pete signed them and Brendon and Spencer turned their faces in towards each other accidentally mid-celebratory hug and their lips had brushed- to Spencer, this is their first one. He wonders if they kissed when they’d gotten married and wishes he could remember more about the ceremony and how amazing it had been to start them on the path that led towards Brendon kissing Spencer again and saying, “I love you, really.”
~~~
Nothing changes, of course, because nothing’s really changed, other than the fact they’ve both said what they’d been feeling.
Spencer wants to ask how long, but doesn’t. Instead he just does what he’s been doing every day since they got married, and probably for a long, long time before that too. They go and have dinner at Shane’s place and he teases them mercilessly until Spencer leans over and kisses Brendon just because he can. Shane makes a small “aww” noise which gives Brendon and Spencer plenty of ammunition to mock him back.
They fly to London to mix the album, just like they’d done with the previous one. Ryan saves them the trouble of explaining to Jon how their marriage of convenience has turned into a real relationship and so Jon greets them at the airport with a goofy grin and a slap on the shoulder and a “bout time you crazy kids got together.”
They mix the record and Ryan bitches about having to share a hotel room with Jon, even though Spencer knows he likes it, even though he’s been sharing with Jon mostly for a long time, months and months before Brendon and Spencer had gotten married. They go and do interviews- radio and TV and magazine, and whenever the interviewer asks, “So, what’s new with you guys?” Spencer can’t help but share a private smile with Brendon.
“It’s an important question,” Ryan says, after the third interview where Brendon shrugs and says, “oh, you know, the usual,” in response to that question.
“Are you going to tell people?” Jon asks and Spencer purses his lips and looks over at Brendon before answering.
“We’ve not discussed it,” Spencer tells them, and Brendon nods in agreement.
“Does it matter?” he asks. “I mean, these guys ask us the same tedious questions, and they don’t really care about the answers. Plus,” he pauses and glances at Ryan. “I don’t think we want it to affect how people see the band.”
Ryan stares at Brendon, then turns his gaze on Spencer. “Fuck what people think,” he says. “If you want to tell the world, tell the world.”
Spencer grins at his best friend and then looks over at Brendon, who looks a little surprised. Spencer doesn’t blame him- sometimes it’s hard even for him to remember how much Ryan’s mellowed about media perception and making a stand against the norm or whatever he was raging against at any given moment in time.
“I don’t think,” Spencer says slowly, giving Brendon time to interrupt, “that it matters. The important people know.”
Brendon nods and says, “If it comes up, we’ll answer truthfully. Otherwise…fuck ‘em.”
“So if someone asks ‘hey, did you and Spencer get hitched?’ you’ll say yes, but if they don’t, they’ll never know?” Jon grins and Brendon laughs and shrugs.
“Play it by ear,” he says and changes the conversation.
They last two interviews before someone asks, “What crazy things have you guys gotten up to over the past few months?” and Brendon slides his eyes towards Spencer and puts on what Spencer thinks of as his comedy face. It’s the one with the exaggerated facial movements, the waggling eyebrows and sly smirk and Brendon even adds in a little wink as he says, “Oh, well, me and Spencer got married.”
The interviewer laughs and Panic all laugh too. “Was it a beautiful ceremony?” she asks and Brendon shrugs, lifting his hands up to emphasise.
“Dunno,” he says. “Here’s a tip for people planning their weddings- save the drinking of an entire bottle of tequila until after you say your vows. Much more memorable that way.”
The interviewer laughs again and tilts the microphone in Spencer’s direction. “Do you remember it?”
Spencer smirks at Brendon. “A dove,” he says, trying not to laugh when he meets Ryan’s eyes, “flew in and placed the ring on my finger.”
Brendon gives him a surprised, but happy look. “You remembered!” he exclaims, and Spencer ducks his head, hiding behind his hair and thinks back to Brendon telling his parents that ridiculous story over dinner.
“Yeah,” Spencer says, giving Brendon a genuine smile, something he finds hard to give anyone in these never ending identical interviews. “Yeah. I remember.”
She laughs again and says, “So, seriously, what’ve you guys been up to, besides working on the new record?” and Spencer exchanges a look with Brendon.
“No one can say you didn’t tell them,” Jon remarks later as he’s checking comments on their blog. A few people have left ‘OMG IS IT TRU???’ comments but other fans have shot them down with ‘o yea like thatd ever happen ryden 4eva’.
When the mixing is finished, they head back to the States. There are a couple of fans at the airport, and Zack says they can stop long enough to autograph an album or two. The girls make disappointed noises when Zack insists they have to go and one girl shouts out, “Brendon, marry me!” as they walk away.
Brendon grins, wide and real and Spencer wants to turn around and say, “back off, bitch, he’s mine,” but he doesn’t. Instead Brendon pauses and looks back over his shoulder.
“Already taken,” he calls back and grabs Spencer’s hand as they walk towards Departures.
“Think they’ll believe it now?” Brendon ask as they reach security and have to let go of each other.
Spencer makes a sceptical noise. “I don’t think they’d believe it, even if we ‘accidentally’ released a sex tape,” he says and ahead of them Ryan pauses emptying his pockets into the grey plastic bins and turns to look at them.
“Please don’t,” he says, and Brendon laughs.
“What’s wrong, Ross?” he asks, nudging Ryan with his elbow.
“It’s too early to be disgusted by those mental images,” Ryan shoots back and Brendon blows him a kiss and steps through the metal detector.
He sits beside Spencer on the other side while Spencer laces up his shoes. When Spencer looks up, Brendon’s watching a teenager a few feet away replace the metric tonne of metal jewellery onto their hands.
“We should get rings,” Brendon says suddenly, and Spencer raises an eyebrow at him.
“Like those?” he asks, nodding at the kid who’s in the process of sliding what looks to be a dragon shaped ring onto his middle finger, wings spread over the fingers either side.
Brendon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant. Seriously though. We don’t wear wedding bands. We should think about it. Maybe?”
Spencer smiles and nods. “I’d like that,” he says and Brendon grins.
“Awesome,” he bounces up onto his feet. “I already know exactly what I want. A big pink diamond the size of my fist.”
“Classy,” Spencer remarks when Jon finally gets through security and joins them.
Brendon nods. “That’s me,” he says, bounding ahead to walk beside Zack across the terminal. “And you’re stuck with me.”
~~~
Back in LA they do promo shoots for the album. They hang out. They get high in Ryan’s backyard. They go to the beach. Then Jon flies home for a brief visit before the album drops and Ryan goes with him and it’s just Brendon and Spencer.
They go about their daily lives and Spencer pretty much forgets about rings until he’s sitting across from Brendon one mid afternoon, eating lunch. Brendon is eating frootloops because, as he’s so quick to point out, he’s a fucking rock star and can eat cereal at any time of day, if he wants.
There’s a drop of milk on his lip that Spencer wants to kiss away, but he just eats his sandwich and asks Brendon what he wants to do that night.
Brendon shrugs and rests his spoon in the bowl when he’s done. “Hey,” he says casually. It’s too casual and Spencer lifts his head, giving Brendon a wary look.
“Yeah?”
Brendon gets up and sticks his bowl in the sink and then disappears into the other room for a moment. Spencer frowns after him and eats the last bite of his sandwich just as Brendon comes back, holding something in his hand.
“I went and got us rings,” Brendon explains, putting the tiny box on the table in front of Spencer.
“Oh,” Spencer says, reaching out and picking it up. The velvet is soft against his fingers.
“Do you mind?” Brendon says, crouching down beside Spencer’s chair and looking up at him, a worried expression on his face.
Spencer shakes his head and smiles. “No,” he says. “I don’t mind.” He flips the box open and looks at the ring. It’s a plain gold band, nothing fancy, nothing extreme or overstated, and yet it says exactly what it’s supposed to- that Spencer is Brendon’s and Brendon is Spencer’s.
He takes it out of the box and turns it over in his fingers. There’s an inscription on the inside and he holds it closer, turning it as he reads. It’s just their initials, and the date of their fateful wedding, and it’s perfect.
Spencer turns to tell Brendon so, but ends up leaning down and kissing him instead.
Brendon takes it from Spencer and holds it out. “Marry me,” he says.
Spencer laughs. “Been there, done that,” he says, but Brendon doesn’t laugh. It takes Spencer a moment to realise Brendon is on one knee, offering the ring to Spencer with a hopeful look on his face.
“Brendon,” Spencer says gently, reaching out and cupping Brendon’s outstretched hand in his own. “We’re already married, remember?”
Brendon nods. “I know. But…I don’t remember. And neither do you. And I want to. Both of our moms keep saying they wish they could have seen it, and think how great it’d be to stand up there in front of everyone we care about and say those vows again.”
Spencer licks his lips and nods. He holds his hand, fingers splayed, and watches as Brendon slides the ring on, shakily. “I do love a good party,” Spencer says and Brendon laughs and gives him a lingering kiss.
“You sure?” he asks and Spencer nods.
“You’re right. We should have a day we can remember. Family and friends.”
“Plus,” Brendon adds, “presents!”
Spencer laughs and Brendon makes a face. “Can I get up now?” he asks. “My knees hurt.”
Spencer pulls Brendon to his feet. “You’re a dork,” he says, indicating the ring and the proposal.
“I know,” Brendon agrees. “But I’m your dork now. In sickness and in mental health, forever and ever.”
“Amen,” Spencer intones solemnly and Brendon grins and gives Spencer the other ring so he can slide it onto Brendon’s hand.
~~~
They decide on a date, six months from their actual wedding date. It leaves them just over a month to get organised and Ryan looks at them like they’re insane.
“That’s not long enough,” he declares, as if he’s the expert in organising anything more demanding than whether he’s going to wear the paisley or plaid button down that day. “Our album drops a week later. You won’t get to go on honeymoon.”
“Ryan,” Brendon says, sincerely. “Every day on tour with you is like a honeymoon.”
Ryan flips him off.
“We’ll go to, I don’t know, Palm Springs or something for a couple of days,” Spencer tells Ryan. “That’ll be our honeymoon.”
Ryan makes a face. Then he gives Spencer an even look. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Spencer nods.
Ryan sighs, then perks up a little. “Do I get to choose my own outfit?”
Spencer looks at Brendon who shakes his head.
“Sure,” Spencer says.
“Cool. Hey, can I give you away?”
“Sure,” Brendon says, and Spencer frowns.
“I think we need to iron out some kinks in the plan first,” he says quickly. “Then we’ll get back to you about it.”
When they tell Pete, he immediately volunteers his LA house for the location. “It’s big enough, right?” he asks and Spencer laughs, because it’s hardly going to be the wedding of the century, by OK magazine standards, at least.
Pete is surprisingly full of helpful suggestions and at some point in the conversation he reveals he’s ordained to perform weddings.
“Really?” Spencer asks, surprised and Pete clears his throat and hesitates before replying.
“It’s possible,” he says, “that once upon a time I was trying to trick Patrick into marrying me. But it turns out you’re not allowed to marry yourself. Which is fucked up, if you ask me.”
Spencer laughs. “How did Patrick react?”
Pete doesn’t reply.
“Oh, I see,” Spencer laughs again and Pete gives a sheepish chuckle down the phone line.
“So, my services are available, if you want them,” he says.
“I don’t think we technically need someone who’s ordained, if it’s just a…renewing of vows or whatever they call it,” Spencer replies and Pete makes a disappointed noise.
“Okay then, sure, I just thought I’d-”
“But you know we’d love for you to do it,” Spencer carries on, and he can practically hear Pete’s beaming smile.
“Really? Awesome. I mean, that’s cool,” Pete says, casually. “Hey,” he adds. “Can I choose my own outfit?”
Spencer thinks about the teletubby outfit he knows Pete has hanging up in his closet. “We’ll see,” he says, diplomatically and writes ‘something for Pete to wear’ on the list he’s been keeping.
~~~
It’s a week before the event. Spencer’s not sure what to call it- it’s not a wedding, after all, but it’s more than a party, to him and Brendon at least. It’s wedding-like enough that there’s going to be cake and presents and they’d sent embossed invitations out that people have RSVP’d for. Most people anyway.
“You guys haven’t RSVP’d” Spencer says to the gathered members of the Cab. They’re in LA, recording at the studio and he’s stopped by to see how his boys are doing. It’s a different sound for them, this time around, and Deleon seems worried about it. It’s a feeling Spencer knows well.
“Sorry man,” Ian looks up from where he’s messing with an amp. “I’m having tea with the Easter bunny on the day.”
Spencer frowns and glances over at Marshall, who shrugs.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “So, you guys aren’t coming then? It’s just that this is really important to me and Brendon, and we’d like you to be there.”
Cash gives him a funny look. “You guys are really taking this joke as far as it can go, huh? What’s next, announcing you’re going to adopt some African baby a la Brangelina?”
“What joke?” Spencer asks, and Cash laughs.
“You’re good,” he says. “When we came up with the whole fake-wedding idea, we figured you’d figure it out and get mad and yell at us, not play along.”
Spencer suddenly feels a little dizzy. There’s a sofa a few feet away and he takes a couple of wobbly steps and sits down heavily.
“What do you mean, ‘fake wedding idea?” he asks carefully.
Cash and Ian laugh and Ian says, “it was totally Cash’s idea, no matter what he says.”
“Nuh uh!” Cash exclaims. “Jon was the one who said we should tell them they’d gotten married when they sobered up. I just made that certificate and printed it out. And, um, suggested we dump them at a motel with it.”
Spencer stares at the floor in front of him. He’s pretty sure he’s having a panic attack because he can’t quite remember how to breathe, and there’s a good chance he’ll throw up all over the ugly carpet.
“Dude, you okay?” Marshall asks and Spencer takes a deep breath and, after a moment, looks up.
“It’s a joke,” Spencer says slowly and Cash laughs obnoxiously. His laughter trails off when he looks at Spencer though.
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck. Fuck. You didn’t know? Dude, if you’re messing with me, that shit’s not funny.”
“No,” Spencer says miserably. “No, it’s not.”
“Fuck,” Cash runs his hand over his hair and glances at Ian, who’s staring at Spencer with wide eyes.
“It’s all a joke?” Spencer repeats. “We…we’re not married.”
He stands up and walks across to the window and stares outside for a moment. His hand balls into a fist and he wants to hit something. Cash and Ian, maybe. Jon, probably. He thinks back to the time Jon had called their marriage a joke, how he’d thought it was just because they’d done it for convenience, not for any real reason. But it’s obvious now what Jon had meant. Spencer’s not sure why Jon had let them go on believing it, when it had become clear that they thought it was real, that they were falling in love and acting like a real married couple. And then he remembers Ryan, the looks he’d given Jon to silence him.
“I’m sorry,” Cash says, and Spencer whirls around and looks at him. Cash normally looks cocky and self assured but right now he looks scared, like he’s sure Spencer is going to punch him out. And Spencer wants to, but he has more important things to do. Like yell at Ryan. And figure out how the hell he’s going to tell Brendon that their sham marriage was precisely that.
“Shut up,” he says, and heads for the door.
“I mean it,” Cash calls. “I’m sorry. Hey, hey, we’ll totally come to your party. It’ll be awesome.”
Spencer shakes his head and walks out the door. He can hear Deleon yelling as the door swings shut, shouting that Cash better not have fucked everything up for them. Spencer’s not sure if Deleon means for Spencer and Brendon, or for his own band, but Spencer agrees with the sentiment.
He dials Ryan’s number on the way to his car. It goes to voicemail.
“Phone me back, fucker,” Spencer snaps, and hangs up. He throws his phone onto the passenger seat and heads home.
His phone rings just as he’s pulling into the driveway.
“You’re a dick,” Spencer says by way of greeting. “You’re a dick and you’ve been lying to me and I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Hi,” Ryan says. “So. Things going well then?”
“I’m not married to Brendon.”
“Oh?” Ryan says. He’s feigning surprise, but Spencer can tell. Spencer can always tell, when it comes to Ryan and he’s maybe a little bit mad at himself for not spotting that Ryan was hiding something earlier. “Really?”
“Cut the crap,” Spencer snaps. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. And that you didn’t make Jon tell me. What the fuck, Ryan?”
Ryan sighs. “Spence, look-”
“Don’t you ‘Spence’ me,” Spencer interrupts. “Did you think this was funny? Fuck, Ryan, why didn’t you tell me before we got all emotionally involved?”
“I didn’t tell you so this would happen,” Ryan replies. “And don’t front, you’ve always been emotionally involved. Both of you have been. You just needed a nudge and that’s what this was.”
“So, what, you decided Jon’s joke was so funny you’d use it to play matchmaker? Since when have you wanted to be some kind of puppetmaster with your friends?”
“I don’t,” Ryan says. Spencer can tell he’s getting annoyed, even if the inflection in his voice hardly changes. “But by the time I found out you’d already made the decision to play at being married. I figured either you’d end up confessing your feelings for each other and everything would work out, or you’d both continue being complete morons, figure it out on your own and it’d be a case of no harm, no foul.”
Spencer gets out of the car and slams the door, because he feels like it. It helps, a little, and he can practically hear Ryan rolling his eyes on the other end of the phone.
“Seriously, Spence, do you think you and Brendon would be together if this hadn’t happened?”
“Maybe,” Spencer says, leaning on the car for a moment, and then pushing himself away and stalking up the path towards the front door. “Maybe not. Okay, so maybe something good came out of all of this, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re a dick and I’m going to kick your ass when I see you. Jon’s too.”
“A small price to pay for seeing my best friend happy,” Ryan says serenely and Spencer makes a frustrated noise and sits down on the front stoop.
“I hate you,” Spencer says.
“No you don’t,” Ryan says, smugly and it’s true. Because Spencer can’t fault him for his intentions. His execution, though, that’s something Spencer can be pissed off about. And he’s planning on telling Ryan and Jon and Cash and Ian just how dickish they are as soon as he figures out how to break the news to Brendon.
“It wasn’t like it was some great thought out plan,” Ryan says. “In my defence. I just thought I’d keep my mouth shut. And tell Jon to maybe not tell you guys either. For awhile.”
“And you forgot to warn Cash and the others?” Spencer asks and Ryan sighs.
“I can’t think of everything, Spencer. I am only one man. Also, I am very high a lot of the time,” he says by way of explanation, sounding exasperated.
Spencer laughs despite himself, but it sounds hollow to his ears. He sighs.
“How am I going to tell him?” Spencer asks, leaning forward and running his hand over his face. “Seriously, Ryan. How am I going to tell Brendon? How can I say this to him?”
“Tell me what?”
Spencer jumps and turns. Brendon is standing in the doorway, staring at Spencer with a curious look on his face.
“Bren,” Spencer says, standing up. He still has his phone pressed to his ear and he can hear Ryan saying “Shit. Fuck. Shit.”
Brendon’s expression changes to wary. “Spence? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Spencer opens his mouth, but he can’t find the words. He’s not sure how Brendon’s going to take this, how he’s going to react to the joke and Ryan’s meddling.
“Here,” Spencer says into the phone. “You can do what you should have done a long time ago and tell him.” He tosses the phone to Brendon, who fumbles it but holds it up to his ear.
“Hello?” he says, and Spencer wants to look away, but he can’t. He watches as Brendon’s face changes, from confusion to annoyance to hurt to something Spencer doesn’t fully understand.
“Thanks a fucking lot,” Brendon says after a long moment, finally looking back at Spencer. Spencer’s not sure if he’s talking to him or Ryan, but Brendon shakes his head, just once and throws the phone back at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything else, just goes inside the house, leaving the door wide open behind him.
“Fuck,” Spencer says, and he can hear Ryan saying his name over and over, voice tinny and far away. He hangs up and follows Brendon inside.
He’s not downstairs so he heads up, and hears noise coming from the bedroom.
“Brendon,” Spencer says helplessly from the doorway.
Brendon looks up from the handful of shirts he’s stuffing into an old duffle bag.
“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, even though it’s obvious. Brendon looks away.
“Leaving,” he says. “I can’t…Fuck, Spencer, it’s all a lie. All of it is a lie. We…this…fuck, it’s just a joke.”
Spencer shakes his head. There’s a big lump in his throat and he has to swallow hard to get past it to say, “It’s not. Brendon, that little piece of paper, that’s the joke. It got us here, but it didn’t make us. This isn’t something you can joke about. It’s love. Stop being stupid about this.”
“This isn’t what I’m being stupid about,” Brendon says, reaching into the wardrobe again. He pulls out a pair of jeans and pauses, staring at them for a moment. “I was stupid to think this was something more than what it was.”
Spencer starts to push himself away from the door frame, but Brendon turns, his back to Spencer, and moves back to the bed and pushes the jeans into his bag.
“Maybe,” Brendon says, voice hushed, “maybe I only think I love you because I’m supposed to. It’s like an arranged marriage, this thing. We did the best we could with what we had and we managed to fool ourselves into feeling what we thought we should feel. We saw things in it, in each other, because we were supposed to. But there was nothing really there.”
“You love me,” Spencer insists.
“I think I loved you because that’s what married people are supposed to do,” Brendon zips up the bag and straightens. It takes him a moment until he looks at Spencer. “I think I just wanted a happy marriage so badly I’d have believed anything I wanted to believe.”
“How can you say that?” Spencer asks. It comes out as a whisper because his mouth is so dry.
“I can see clearly now,” Brendon tells him, folding his arms defensively across his chest. “Real love is supposed to be like a punch in the stomach. Your feet are supposed to go from underneath you and you don’t care. It should be a great passion that grows into something long lasting and practical for every day. We took something practical and every day, and tried to turn it into love because it was there. Love shouldn’t grow out of settling for what we’ve gotten stuck with.”
Spencer doesn’t know what to say. He feels numb and empty and like he might cry.
“I’m sorry,” Brendon says, shouldering his bag. “We should go back to how things were before. Not let this ruin the band, because that’s too important, you know? But I need some time. Don’t call me. Please. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“This isn’t my fault,” Spencer blurts out as Brendon steps around him, careful not to touch him at all. He walks down the hallway and Spencer can’t help but curl his fingers into fists at the unfairness of it all. “I didn’t do this, Brendon. I didn’t know.”
Brendon just keeps walking.
“I shouldn’t be punished,” Spencer says, to himself now as the front door opens and closes. He sits down where he stands, rests his forehead against the wooden frame. He imagines he can hear the sound of Brendon’s car starting, even though it’s too far away.
He’s still there when Ryan finds him an hour later.
“Spencer,” Ryan says softly, sitting down next to Spencer. There’s not much room and Ryan’s sharp edges dig into Spencer’s thigh and side and arm but Spencer doesn’t shift over, and neither does Ryan. “I’m sorry.”
“Where is he?” Spencer asks, lifting his head.
“I’m not sure,” Ryan replies. “Probably at his parents. Or wherever Shane is, maybe.”
Spencer shakes his head. “No, I meant Jon. Where’s Jon.”
Ryan gives Spencer a level look. “Not here,” Ryan is using his reassuring voice and Spencer wants to laugh, but he can’t quite bring himself to.
“I’m not going to punch him or anything,” Spencer assures Ryan.
“What about Brendon?”
Spencer does laugh then. “I’m not going to punch him either.”
Ryan gives him a long level look.
“Brendon isn’t mad at Jon,” Spencer tells him. “He’s not mad at Cash or Ian or you either. He’s just mad at me.”
“Why?” Ryan asks and Spencer shakes his head.
“I wish I fucking knew.”
Ryan reaches out and slides his fingers into Spencer’s fist, wriggling them insistently until Spencer loosens his grip and lets Ryan in.
They’ve known each other for essentially their whole lives, have been through amazing times and shitty times. And even through the ache of his broken heart, Spencer feels better just from Ryan’s simple touch.
“Thanks,” he says, and Ryan raises an eyebrow, like he doesn’t know what Spencer’s talking about.
They sit together until Ryan bitches that he’s getting cramp, and makes Spencer get up. They don’t talk much, and Spencer goes to bed early. He lies awake for hours, missing Brendon’s warmth next to him and wondering where Brendon is and if he’s missing Spencer.
At some point he falls asleep. When he wakes up, he doesn’t think it was all a dream, but he almost expects to find Brendon walking through the door with a sheepish grin and an apology for acting like such a dick.
Spencer goes downstairs without bothering with a shower or getting dressed. Ryan is sitting at the kitchen table, texting someone, but he puts his phone down when Spencer enters.
“Any word?” Spencer asks. The way Ryan winces at the hope in Spencer’s voice answers the question for him.
“I’ve been sleuthing around though,” Ryan says, as if he’s doesn’t mean he’s just called Jon and Zack and Shane and maybe Eric. “And I know he’s at Shane’s place.”
Spencer nods slowly and sits down. Ryan gets up and fixes him a cup of coffee and they sit in silence for awhile, watching the steam from their cups trail off as the liquid cools.
“He’ll be back,” Spencer says firmly, then looks up at Ryan, a little unsure. “Right?”
Ryan nods. “Yes,” he says, equally as firm. “Brendon’s not actually an idiot. Even if he does act like one occasionally. He’ll be back. Even if I have to drag him back.” He gives Spencer a hopeful look, like he’s trying to make Spencer laugh, but Spencer can only offer a weak smile in return.
“Yeah,” Spencer echoes. “He’ll be back.” He feels sure of it. That Brendon’s just reacting to the shock of the news, that once he’s had time to think, he’ll come back and things will be just like they should be.
But three days pass and Brendon doesn’t come home, doesn’t call. Jon calls, a lot, every day, but Spencer can’t bring himself to be mad at Jon over a joke that would probably have been almost funny if they’d realised straight away. In fact it’s the way they hadn’t even considered it was a joke that gives Spencer hope- that somewhere, deep down inside both of them, they’d wanted to be together, could believe they’d accidentally want to marry each other while inebriated. Spencer’s sure Brendon will realise that for himself, he just needs time.
“Spence,” Ryan says one day, coming over to where Spencer’s sitting at the table in the dining room. His laptop is open on one side of him, phone on the other, and he’s going over seating lists for the fifteenth time, trying to make sure neither of his sisters are sitting anywhere near Gabe. Or William. Or Ian.
“Hey Ry,” Spencer says, not looking up. He’s almost got it perfect, and he’s looking forward to showing Pete, to going round to his place and making sure everything will be set up alright for the day.
“We need to talk,” Ryan says, pulling out the chair opposite Spencer and sitting down. Spencer glances up and sees Ryan leaning forward, playing with the cuffs of his shirt nervously. That’s never a good sign and Spencer puts his pen down and pays attention.
“What’s wrong?” he asks calmly.
Ryan clears his throat and bites his lip as he looks at the seating chart in front of Spencer. “I think you need to cancel this wedding,” he says.
Spencer frowns.
“It’s not just me,” Ryan says hastily. “I’ve spoken to the others. Jon. Pete. Shane. And none of us want to see you get hurt.”
“You don’t think he’s coming back,” Spencer says, and it’s not a question.
Ryan shakes his head. “Oh, no, I think he’s coming back. To the band. Maybe, hopefully, to you. But I don’t think he’s coming back for this…” he pauses and waves his hand around the table, encompassing all of the pieces of paper around Spencer. He sighs. “This celebration of something that didn’t actually happen.”
“You’re saying Brendon doesn’t love me?” Spencer asks. “And that I don’t love him? Because that’s what this is a celebration of. Not some piece of paper that says we love each other. Because we don’t need that.”
Ryan shakes his head and reaches out a hand towards Spencer. The table’s wide enough that even with Ryan’s ridiculously long limbs, he can’t reach Spencer, and Spencer is glad. Because Ryan is wrong.
“I don’t think Brendon sees it that way,” Ryan says, pulling back his hand slowly when Spencer doesn’t reach out for him too. “I think he’s still just very hurt and upset.”
Spencer doesn’t reply. He picks up his pen again, taps it against the paper in front of him, and then puts it down. He knows Ryan is right, that there’s a chance Brendon isn’t going to come to his senses. Isn’t going to turn up, and Spencer thinks maybe he’s being an idiot, throwing himself so completely into making sure these plans for the not-wedding (or is it the not-not-wedding now? Spencer’s not sure) are perfect. Because it won’t be if Brendon’s not there.
“I know you think he’s going to come round on his own,” Ryan says, interrupting Spencer’s thoughts. “But I want you to be prepared for the possibility he won’t. I don’t want you to get hurt, Spence.”
“Too late,” Spencer says, and forces a laugh. Ryan doesn’t smile back.
“Any more hurt,” Ryan corrects himself and Spencer stares back at him for a moment before nodding and getting.
“You’re right,” he says. “Brendon’s not going to come round on his own.”
He picks up his hoodie, slung over the back of a nearby chair, and his car keys.
“Where’re you going?” Ryan asks, even though Spencer’s sure he already knows the answer.
“To tell Brendon he’s an idiot,” Spencer says, and heads out the door.
~~~
“What? No, Brendon’s not here,” Shane says, too loudly, too fake, when he opens the door to Spencer. Then he leans in closer and says, “he’s in the den. He saw your car pull up and made me promise to tell you he wasn’t here. And I did.” Shane looks proud of himself and Spencer can’t help but attempt a smile. He steps inside when Shane stands back to let him in.
Shane’s giving him a thoughtful look. He nods, once, and says, “You know, I forgot I need to go to the store and get…stuff. I’ll be gone for a little while. Don’t make him bleed on my new carpet, okay?”
And then he steps outside and closes the door behind him. Spencer waits until he hears the sound of Shane’s car pulling away, then walks into the den.
“Thanks man,” Brendon says, without looking up. He’s staring at his iPod, scrolling through something Spencer can’t see. “I know you hate lying to the guys but-”
“Hi,” Spencer interrupts, and Brendon goes very still. He looks towards Spencer without lifting his head, then after a moment he puts the iPod aside.
“Where’s Shane?” he asks.
“He had to go,” Spencer says.
“Oh,” Brendon says. He gets to his feet, and wipes his palms on his thighs. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, then folds his arms across his chest. “How are you?” he asks.
“How do you think I am?” Spencer asks and Brendon nods grimly.
“About the same as me?” he offers and Spencer laughs without meaning to.
“Oh, did your husband walk out on you too?” Spencer shoots back. He’s angry, suddenly, in a way he’s not been in a long time. Angry at Brendon for refusing to be reasonable about the whole situation.
Brendon looks stricken for a moment, then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Because I don’t have a husband.”
Spencer exhales sharply, like someone had just punched him in the chest. “What am I then?” he asks.
Brendon stares at Spencer for a long moment before replying. “You’re my best friend and band mate and the other person on the receiving end of this stupid practical joke.”
Spencer breaks eye contact to look away. “And that’s it?” he asks. “Because I thought we were a hell of a lot more than just that.”
“We thought we were,” Brendon replies and Spencer can hear Brendon moving around. For a moment he almost hopes Brendon is moving towards him, that he’s about to step into Spencer’s space. But then Spencer looks up and sees Brendon standing by the window, staring out onto the street.
“I still think we are,” Spencer says. “You just need to realise that too. As fucked up as it was, our friends were trying to help us out. They saw what we didn’t see. And as much as this whole thing hurts, I’m glad it did start as a joke, because otherwise it might not have started at all.” He walks over to the sofa and sits down on the arm, watching Brendon carefully.
Brendon stares outside for a beat or two longer, then turns to look at Spencer.
“How can you be so calm about this?” Brendon asks, raising his voice. “How can you stand there and act like everything should be the same, when it was all a lie?”
“Because it wasn’t,” Spencer half-yells back. “Because even though the first day was a lie, the rest of it wasn’t.” His hand is clenched in a fist, resting on his thigh, and the frustration is enough that he wants to pound it down- onto his thigh to bruise himself and hurt from physical pain for a change, into the wall so he can see his knuckles bleed, and now, maybe, into Brendon’s face. He wonders if it’d knock some sense into Brendon, but he knows it’s a stupid thing to think about. He never would, never could, no matter how much this is hurting inside. He lets his fingers uncurl, breathing slow and even.
“You don’t understand,” Brendon says softly, and Spencer looks up, a harsh laugh ready on his lips.
“I don’t understand?” he asks hotly and Brendon gives Spencer a wistful look.
“I was so happy,” he says. “I’ve never… not a lot of things have felt right in my life, you know? Those moments where everything clicks and you say ‘fuck, this is what I’m supposed to do, what I am’? They’re rare moments for me. I…there’ve only been two, so far. The day Brent brought me down to your basement to audition, and that moment when you said you loved me back.”
Brendon pushes himself away from the window sill and paces a few steps towards Spencer. He seems to catch himself, realise what he’s doing, and he turns, putting his back to Spencer and pressing his hands against the glass and staring out.
“I tried not to dream,” Brendon explains. “Even when we were teenagers and Ryan would tell us how we were going to make it big, how we were going to get signed and play to thousands of people who’d sing along…I didn’t let myself really dream, because I didn’t think it’d ever happen. Sometimes I still can’t believe it all has happened.”
“Me too,” Spencer says quietly and Brendon moves his head a fraction in Spencer’s direction in acknowledgement.
“I didn’t let myself dream then. But the past few months, with you…I did. Fuck, Spence, I planned out future out in my head. I thought of the houses we’d live in, about painting nurseries and teaching our kids to ride bikes and sending them off on their first day of school. I thought of watching them grow and watching us get older together. I thought of sending them off to college and us comforting each other in our suddenly empty home. I thought about us old and grey and playing canasta in some retirement village in Florida. I thought of us spending our entire lives together and, fuck, you have no idea how much I wanted it to come true.”
“It still can,” Spencer says. His voice is croaky and his throat feels dry and constricted. “Bren, I want all of that too. You think I haven’t been thinking the same thing?”
Brendon shakes his head, still not turning around. “I just don’t see how we can build a future like that on a past that wasn’t what we thought it was.”
Spencer can’t think of a single thing to say in response, at least not one he’s not said over and over already.
“Do you love me?” he asks, eventually and Brendon sighs.
“I don’t know what’s real and what’s part of the lie anymore,” he says, and Spencer’s eyes prickle hotly and his nose itches.
He looks away from Brendon, casting his eyes around. Brendon’s iPod is an arms reach away from him and he slides his hands across the cream fabric of the sofa and picks it up. He turns it on, expecting to see the playlist of songs, or maybe a video, that he’d thought Brendon had been looking at. Instead Spencer finds himself looking at a picture Jon had taken of Brendon and Spencer together, one evening during the writing process, legs stretched out in front of them in the Californian sunshine. They’re laughing, heads tipped in towards each other and they look happy.
He slides his thumb around the click wheel and it scrolls onto the next photo. It’s one Brendon had snapped of Spencer when he’d been making dinner one night. It’s blurry and too close so all you can see is a flash of Spencer’s smile, his hair falling in his eyes and hand reaching out to push the camera away.
Spencer clicks through to the next one, and then the next, and the next. They’re all pictures of Spencer, or Spencer and Brendon together. Happy. Smiling. Unaware. It makes Spencer’s heart ache for those times.
Spencer puts the iPod back where he found it and looks up to find Brendon looking at him. His expression is soft, worried. Neither of them say anything for a long moment.
“Why haven’t you cancelled it?” Brendon asks, and Spencer notes the use of ‘it’. “My mom phoned the other day, wanting to confirm something. She didn’t know it had been cancelled.”
“What did you tell her?”
Brendon shrugs. “I couldn’t do it. She seemed so happy about it. My parents…they’re not always happy about the things I choose to do. They’re happy I’m with you though. I don’t know how to tell them it was all a joke.”
“Are you still with me?” Spencer asks.
Brendon doesn’t reply.
They sit in silence for several minutes. Spencer tries to think of what he can say to convince Brendon that what they have is worth fighting for, but part of him is screaming that he shouldn’t have to convince Brendon. That Brendon should just know, should just feel it, the way Spencer does. A wave of defeat washes over him and Spencer’s shoulders slump for a moment, then he gets to his feet.
He walks towards Brendon, noting the wary look on Brendon’s face. For a moment Spencer considers just diving in and kissing him. Kissing him until Brendon gives in and stops acting like the past few months meant nothing.
But he doesn’t. Instead he takes two jewellery boxes out of his pocket and holds them out towards Brendon.
“Here,” Spencer says. “You should take these.”
“I don’t want them,” Brendon shakes his head. “They’re…they’re just symbols of a lie.”
Spencer gives Brendon a sad look. “No,” he says. “They’re a symbol of the day everything changed and put us on the road to a place where I realised I loved you. And that you love me.”
He sees Brendon swallow, and hope flares in his chest, warm and familiar and comforting. He presses on.
“Because I think I’ve loved you a long time, Brendon, and just didn’t realise it. And I’d probably have carried on not realising it if this hadn’t happened. And you would have met someone and married then and none of this would ever have happened.”
“No,” Brendon doesn’t look up from where his eyes are resting on the boxes on Spencer’s outstretched palm. “No. It wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have married someone else, Spence. Because it was always you, okay? Always.”
Spencer stares at him until Brendon looks up. “Then what does this matter?” he asks. He knows it sounds like he’s begging, like he’s pleading, but he can’t help it. “What does it matter if that piece of paper was real or not? Because it felt real, right?”
Brendon shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it does matter. I can’t…fuck, this was all a joke Spencer. Everything we have, is a joke.”
“I’m not laughing,” Spencer points out. “I’m not even fucking smiling, because you’re breaking my heart, Brendon.”
Brendon turns away and doesn’t say anything. His shoulders are high and rigid and Spencer’s never felt more shut out from Brendon than he does right at that frustrating moment.
Spencer lets out a long, shuddery breath. “Okay,” he says. “Fine. Here.”
He puts two boxes on the windowsill, each one containing one of their rings. “You hold onto these,” he says. “You can do whatever you want with them. But I’m going to be there, standing up in front of all those people, waiting to say those vows to you. And I’d like it if you’d be there to put that ring back on my finger, and to let me put that one on yours.”
Then he turns on his heel and leaves.
On to Part 5.
“He thinks it’s a joke,” Spencer complains miserably. He’s curled up on Ryan’s ratty old sofa, the one he’d gotten from a flea market because he liked the hideous orange and brown pattern. Ryan insists that it’s not old, it’s vintage, but Spencer’s pretty sure vintage things don’t smell of cats.
“And you don’t,” Ryan says, in a maddeningly calm tone. Spencer glares.
“Obviously,” he says. “I just. Fuck. I’m in love with him, Ryan. Actually stupidly head over fucking heels for him. I’m in love with my husband and our marriage is just for convenience and we’re fucking because it’s convenient but the way I feel about him isn’t. At all.”
Ryan nods slowly. “Does he know?”
Spencer shakes his head. “I hope not. I mean. Fuck. He’ll probably figure it out now, if he hadn’t already.”
Ryan frowns. “What happened?”
Spencer shifts uncomfortably. “I was fucking him,” he begins and Ryan holds up a hand.
“Really don’t need to know that,” he cuts in and Spencer makes a face.
“During…after, really. He said he loved me. And I freaked out because he doesn’t mean it, but I do. And I can’t say it back because it’ll be the truth. But it’s not the truth for him. And if I say it, he’ll know. And if he knows, it’s going to fuck everything up. Everything, Ryan. Not just my marriage, but the band too.”
Spencer almost expects Ryan to freak out at him, to tell him that messing with the band is crossing a line, but Ryan just shakes his head slowly.
“Spence, I don’t think-” he starts, but Spencer doesn’t get to find out what Ryan doesn’t think. Ryan’s phone is ringing and Ryan reaches for it and picks it up.
“Hello?” he says and darts his eyes towards Spencer. “Yeah,” he says, unfolding his long limbs from the chair and wandering out of the room.
Spencer picks at the ugly upholstery while Ryan’s gone. It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryan appears in the doorway, snapping his phone shut with a finality Spencer’s not sure he likes.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Ryan tells him, which is the sort of reaction Spencer had expected. What he hadn’t expected was for Ryan to say, “Brendon feels the same way you do, you moron.”
Spencer stares at him. “What?”
Ryan sighs and sits back down. “That was Shane. Brendon just called him in hysterics because he told you how he felt and instead of acting like a rational human being and returning the sentiment, you bolted and left him alone thinking he’d scared you away with his honesty.”
Spencer shakes his head. “No. Brendon doesn’t feel that way about me. He…he said this was just temporary. That the only reason we were doing what we’re doing is because he doesn’t want to break his vows. He can’t…I’d have known.”
“He didn’t know about you feeling the same,” Ryan points out. “Still doesn’t, actually. Even though all the rest of us know.”
Spencer swallows. “All?”
Ryan nods. “You don’t agree to pretend to be properly married to someone for no reason. And you don’t watch them with a goofy look on your face unless you love them either. So.”
“Fuck,” Spencer says, and Ryan nods again.
“Maybe you should go and tell Brendon the truth,” Ryan suggests. “Instead of letting him sit there and think he’s fucked everything up.”
“You’re sure he feels the same?” Spencer asks when Ryan gets up and pulls Spencer to his feet. He starts pushing Spencer towards the door.
“Yes,” Ryan says. “Positive. Stop being a fucking pussy and go and tell him.”
Spencer hesitates just outside. “But what if-”
“I am going to call Brendon and tell him you’re being a dick and that you have something important to tell him,” Ryan threatens. “Get home before I do that, okay?”
Spencer nods and gets in the car and drives.
He thinks about how long he’s had feelings, of some sort or another, for Brendon. He thinks about how long Brendon could possibly have had feelings for Spencer, whether it’s a new thing, whether it’s been going on for awhile. It’s not until he pulls up outside their house that he realises it doesn’t matter.
Brendon is sitting in the big armchair in the den when Spencer walks in. He jumps up when he sees Spencer, looking nervous.
“Shit, Spence, sorry, I didn’t mean-” Brendon starts but Spencer interrupts him.
“I love you too,” he blurts out and Brendon stares at him for a long moment, long enough for Spencer’s stomach to try and turn inside out.
He’s almost sure Brendon doesn’t feel the same, that Ryan was wrong, but then Brendon laughs and takes a hesitant step towards Spencer, and then another. When he’s close enough, he throws himself into Spencer’s arms and it’s like something out of the cheesy romance novels Spencer and Ryan had vowed to deny reading when they were 11 and 12 years old, but it’s perfect too.
They kiss, and even though they’ve kissed before- during sex, that time before Brendon’s parents visited, that time they were playing drinking games with Gabe, when Pete signed them and Brendon and Spencer turned their faces in towards each other accidentally mid-celebratory hug and their lips had brushed- to Spencer, this is their first one. He wonders if they kissed when they’d gotten married and wishes he could remember more about the ceremony and how amazing it had been to start them on the path that led towards Brendon kissing Spencer again and saying, “I love you, really.”
~~~
Nothing changes, of course, because nothing’s really changed, other than the fact they’ve both said what they’d been feeling.
Spencer wants to ask how long, but doesn’t. Instead he just does what he’s been doing every day since they got married, and probably for a long, long time before that too. They go and have dinner at Shane’s place and he teases them mercilessly until Spencer leans over and kisses Brendon just because he can. Shane makes a small “aww” noise which gives Brendon and Spencer plenty of ammunition to mock him back.
They fly to London to mix the album, just like they’d done with the previous one. Ryan saves them the trouble of explaining to Jon how their marriage of convenience has turned into a real relationship and so Jon greets them at the airport with a goofy grin and a slap on the shoulder and a “bout time you crazy kids got together.”
They mix the record and Ryan bitches about having to share a hotel room with Jon, even though Spencer knows he likes it, even though he’s been sharing with Jon mostly for a long time, months and months before Brendon and Spencer had gotten married. They go and do interviews- radio and TV and magazine, and whenever the interviewer asks, “So, what’s new with you guys?” Spencer can’t help but share a private smile with Brendon.
“It’s an important question,” Ryan says, after the third interview where Brendon shrugs and says, “oh, you know, the usual,” in response to that question.
“Are you going to tell people?” Jon asks and Spencer purses his lips and looks over at Brendon before answering.
“We’ve not discussed it,” Spencer tells them, and Brendon nods in agreement.
“Does it matter?” he asks. “I mean, these guys ask us the same tedious questions, and they don’t really care about the answers. Plus,” he pauses and glances at Ryan. “I don’t think we want it to affect how people see the band.”
Ryan stares at Brendon, then turns his gaze on Spencer. “Fuck what people think,” he says. “If you want to tell the world, tell the world.”
Spencer grins at his best friend and then looks over at Brendon, who looks a little surprised. Spencer doesn’t blame him- sometimes it’s hard even for him to remember how much Ryan’s mellowed about media perception and making a stand against the norm or whatever he was raging against at any given moment in time.
“I don’t think,” Spencer says slowly, giving Brendon time to interrupt, “that it matters. The important people know.”
Brendon nods and says, “If it comes up, we’ll answer truthfully. Otherwise…fuck ‘em.”
“So if someone asks ‘hey, did you and Spencer get hitched?’ you’ll say yes, but if they don’t, they’ll never know?” Jon grins and Brendon laughs and shrugs.
“Play it by ear,” he says and changes the conversation.
They last two interviews before someone asks, “What crazy things have you guys gotten up to over the past few months?” and Brendon slides his eyes towards Spencer and puts on what Spencer thinks of as his comedy face. It’s the one with the exaggerated facial movements, the waggling eyebrows and sly smirk and Brendon even adds in a little wink as he says, “Oh, well, me and Spencer got married.”
The interviewer laughs and Panic all laugh too. “Was it a beautiful ceremony?” she asks and Brendon shrugs, lifting his hands up to emphasise.
“Dunno,” he says. “Here’s a tip for people planning their weddings- save the drinking of an entire bottle of tequila until after you say your vows. Much more memorable that way.”
The interviewer laughs again and tilts the microphone in Spencer’s direction. “Do you remember it?”
Spencer smirks at Brendon. “A dove,” he says, trying not to laugh when he meets Ryan’s eyes, “flew in and placed the ring on my finger.”
Brendon gives him a surprised, but happy look. “You remembered!” he exclaims, and Spencer ducks his head, hiding behind his hair and thinks back to Brendon telling his parents that ridiculous story over dinner.
“Yeah,” Spencer says, giving Brendon a genuine smile, something he finds hard to give anyone in these never ending identical interviews. “Yeah. I remember.”
She laughs again and says, “So, seriously, what’ve you guys been up to, besides working on the new record?” and Spencer exchanges a look with Brendon.
“No one can say you didn’t tell them,” Jon remarks later as he’s checking comments on their blog. A few people have left ‘OMG IS IT TRU???’ comments but other fans have shot them down with ‘o yea like thatd ever happen ryden 4eva’.
When the mixing is finished, they head back to the States. There are a couple of fans at the airport, and Zack says they can stop long enough to autograph an album or two. The girls make disappointed noises when Zack insists they have to go and one girl shouts out, “Brendon, marry me!” as they walk away.
Brendon grins, wide and real and Spencer wants to turn around and say, “back off, bitch, he’s mine,” but he doesn’t. Instead Brendon pauses and looks back over his shoulder.
“Already taken,” he calls back and grabs Spencer’s hand as they walk towards Departures.
“Think they’ll believe it now?” Brendon ask as they reach security and have to let go of each other.
Spencer makes a sceptical noise. “I don’t think they’d believe it, even if we ‘accidentally’ released a sex tape,” he says and ahead of them Ryan pauses emptying his pockets into the grey plastic bins and turns to look at them.
“Please don’t,” he says, and Brendon laughs.
“What’s wrong, Ross?” he asks, nudging Ryan with his elbow.
“It’s too early to be disgusted by those mental images,” Ryan shoots back and Brendon blows him a kiss and steps through the metal detector.
He sits beside Spencer on the other side while Spencer laces up his shoes. When Spencer looks up, Brendon’s watching a teenager a few feet away replace the metric tonne of metal jewellery onto their hands.
“We should get rings,” Brendon says suddenly, and Spencer raises an eyebrow at him.
“Like those?” he asks, nodding at the kid who’s in the process of sliding what looks to be a dragon shaped ring onto his middle finger, wings spread over the fingers either side.
Brendon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant. Seriously though. We don’t wear wedding bands. We should think about it. Maybe?”
Spencer smiles and nods. “I’d like that,” he says and Brendon grins.
“Awesome,” he bounces up onto his feet. “I already know exactly what I want. A big pink diamond the size of my fist.”
“Classy,” Spencer remarks when Jon finally gets through security and joins them.
Brendon nods. “That’s me,” he says, bounding ahead to walk beside Zack across the terminal. “And you’re stuck with me.”
~~~
Back in LA they do promo shoots for the album. They hang out. They get high in Ryan’s backyard. They go to the beach. Then Jon flies home for a brief visit before the album drops and Ryan goes with him and it’s just Brendon and Spencer.
They go about their daily lives and Spencer pretty much forgets about rings until he’s sitting across from Brendon one mid afternoon, eating lunch. Brendon is eating frootloops because, as he’s so quick to point out, he’s a fucking rock star and can eat cereal at any time of day, if he wants.
There’s a drop of milk on his lip that Spencer wants to kiss away, but he just eats his sandwich and asks Brendon what he wants to do that night.
Brendon shrugs and rests his spoon in the bowl when he’s done. “Hey,” he says casually. It’s too casual and Spencer lifts his head, giving Brendon a wary look.
“Yeah?”
Brendon gets up and sticks his bowl in the sink and then disappears into the other room for a moment. Spencer frowns after him and eats the last bite of his sandwich just as Brendon comes back, holding something in his hand.
“I went and got us rings,” Brendon explains, putting the tiny box on the table in front of Spencer.
“Oh,” Spencer says, reaching out and picking it up. The velvet is soft against his fingers.
“Do you mind?” Brendon says, crouching down beside Spencer’s chair and looking up at him, a worried expression on his face.
Spencer shakes his head and smiles. “No,” he says. “I don’t mind.” He flips the box open and looks at the ring. It’s a plain gold band, nothing fancy, nothing extreme or overstated, and yet it says exactly what it’s supposed to- that Spencer is Brendon’s and Brendon is Spencer’s.
He takes it out of the box and turns it over in his fingers. There’s an inscription on the inside and he holds it closer, turning it as he reads. It’s just their initials, and the date of their fateful wedding, and it’s perfect.
Spencer turns to tell Brendon so, but ends up leaning down and kissing him instead.
Brendon takes it from Spencer and holds it out. “Marry me,” he says.
Spencer laughs. “Been there, done that,” he says, but Brendon doesn’t laugh. It takes Spencer a moment to realise Brendon is on one knee, offering the ring to Spencer with a hopeful look on his face.
“Brendon,” Spencer says gently, reaching out and cupping Brendon’s outstretched hand in his own. “We’re already married, remember?”
Brendon nods. “I know. But…I don’t remember. And neither do you. And I want to. Both of our moms keep saying they wish they could have seen it, and think how great it’d be to stand up there in front of everyone we care about and say those vows again.”
Spencer licks his lips and nods. He holds his hand, fingers splayed, and watches as Brendon slides the ring on, shakily. “I do love a good party,” Spencer says and Brendon laughs and gives him a lingering kiss.
“You sure?” he asks and Spencer nods.
“You’re right. We should have a day we can remember. Family and friends.”
“Plus,” Brendon adds, “presents!”
Spencer laughs and Brendon makes a face. “Can I get up now?” he asks. “My knees hurt.”
Spencer pulls Brendon to his feet. “You’re a dork,” he says, indicating the ring and the proposal.
“I know,” Brendon agrees. “But I’m your dork now. In sickness and in mental health, forever and ever.”
“Amen,” Spencer intones solemnly and Brendon grins and gives Spencer the other ring so he can slide it onto Brendon’s hand.
~~~
They decide on a date, six months from their actual wedding date. It leaves them just over a month to get organised and Ryan looks at them like they’re insane.
“That’s not long enough,” he declares, as if he’s the expert in organising anything more demanding than whether he’s going to wear the paisley or plaid button down that day. “Our album drops a week later. You won’t get to go on honeymoon.”
“Ryan,” Brendon says, sincerely. “Every day on tour with you is like a honeymoon.”
Ryan flips him off.
“We’ll go to, I don’t know, Palm Springs or something for a couple of days,” Spencer tells Ryan. “That’ll be our honeymoon.”
Ryan makes a face. Then he gives Spencer an even look. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Spencer nods.
Ryan sighs, then perks up a little. “Do I get to choose my own outfit?”
Spencer looks at Brendon who shakes his head.
“Sure,” Spencer says.
“Cool. Hey, can I give you away?”
“Sure,” Brendon says, and Spencer frowns.
“I think we need to iron out some kinks in the plan first,” he says quickly. “Then we’ll get back to you about it.”
When they tell Pete, he immediately volunteers his LA house for the location. “It’s big enough, right?” he asks and Spencer laughs, because it’s hardly going to be the wedding of the century, by OK magazine standards, at least.
Pete is surprisingly full of helpful suggestions and at some point in the conversation he reveals he’s ordained to perform weddings.
“Really?” Spencer asks, surprised and Pete clears his throat and hesitates before replying.
“It’s possible,” he says, “that once upon a time I was trying to trick Patrick into marrying me. But it turns out you’re not allowed to marry yourself. Which is fucked up, if you ask me.”
Spencer laughs. “How did Patrick react?”
Pete doesn’t reply.
“Oh, I see,” Spencer laughs again and Pete gives a sheepish chuckle down the phone line.
“So, my services are available, if you want them,” he says.
“I don’t think we technically need someone who’s ordained, if it’s just a…renewing of vows or whatever they call it,” Spencer replies and Pete makes a disappointed noise.
“Okay then, sure, I just thought I’d-”
“But you know we’d love for you to do it,” Spencer carries on, and he can practically hear Pete’s beaming smile.
“Really? Awesome. I mean, that’s cool,” Pete says, casually. “Hey,” he adds. “Can I choose my own outfit?”
Spencer thinks about the teletubby outfit he knows Pete has hanging up in his closet. “We’ll see,” he says, diplomatically and writes ‘something for Pete to wear’ on the list he’s been keeping.
~~~
It’s a week before the event. Spencer’s not sure what to call it- it’s not a wedding, after all, but it’s more than a party, to him and Brendon at least. It’s wedding-like enough that there’s going to be cake and presents and they’d sent embossed invitations out that people have RSVP’d for. Most people anyway.
“You guys haven’t RSVP’d” Spencer says to the gathered members of the Cab. They’re in LA, recording at the studio and he’s stopped by to see how his boys are doing. It’s a different sound for them, this time around, and Deleon seems worried about it. It’s a feeling Spencer knows well.
“Sorry man,” Ian looks up from where he’s messing with an amp. “I’m having tea with the Easter bunny on the day.”
Spencer frowns and glances over at Marshall, who shrugs.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “So, you guys aren’t coming then? It’s just that this is really important to me and Brendon, and we’d like you to be there.”
Cash gives him a funny look. “You guys are really taking this joke as far as it can go, huh? What’s next, announcing you’re going to adopt some African baby a la Brangelina?”
“What joke?” Spencer asks, and Cash laughs.
“You’re good,” he says. “When we came up with the whole fake-wedding idea, we figured you’d figure it out and get mad and yell at us, not play along.”
Spencer suddenly feels a little dizzy. There’s a sofa a few feet away and he takes a couple of wobbly steps and sits down heavily.
“What do you mean, ‘fake wedding idea?” he asks carefully.
Cash and Ian laugh and Ian says, “it was totally Cash’s idea, no matter what he says.”
“Nuh uh!” Cash exclaims. “Jon was the one who said we should tell them they’d gotten married when they sobered up. I just made that certificate and printed it out. And, um, suggested we dump them at a motel with it.”
Spencer stares at the floor in front of him. He’s pretty sure he’s having a panic attack because he can’t quite remember how to breathe, and there’s a good chance he’ll throw up all over the ugly carpet.
“Dude, you okay?” Marshall asks and Spencer takes a deep breath and, after a moment, looks up.
“It’s a joke,” Spencer says slowly and Cash laughs obnoxiously. His laughter trails off when he looks at Spencer though.
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck. Fuck. You didn’t know? Dude, if you’re messing with me, that shit’s not funny.”
“No,” Spencer says miserably. “No, it’s not.”
“Fuck,” Cash runs his hand over his hair and glances at Ian, who’s staring at Spencer with wide eyes.
“It’s all a joke?” Spencer repeats. “We…we’re not married.”
He stands up and walks across to the window and stares outside for a moment. His hand balls into a fist and he wants to hit something. Cash and Ian, maybe. Jon, probably. He thinks back to the time Jon had called their marriage a joke, how he’d thought it was just because they’d done it for convenience, not for any real reason. But it’s obvious now what Jon had meant. Spencer’s not sure why Jon had let them go on believing it, when it had become clear that they thought it was real, that they were falling in love and acting like a real married couple. And then he remembers Ryan, the looks he’d given Jon to silence him.
“I’m sorry,” Cash says, and Spencer whirls around and looks at him. Cash normally looks cocky and self assured but right now he looks scared, like he’s sure Spencer is going to punch him out. And Spencer wants to, but he has more important things to do. Like yell at Ryan. And figure out how the hell he’s going to tell Brendon that their sham marriage was precisely that.
“Shut up,” he says, and heads for the door.
“I mean it,” Cash calls. “I’m sorry. Hey, hey, we’ll totally come to your party. It’ll be awesome.”
Spencer shakes his head and walks out the door. He can hear Deleon yelling as the door swings shut, shouting that Cash better not have fucked everything up for them. Spencer’s not sure if Deleon means for Spencer and Brendon, or for his own band, but Spencer agrees with the sentiment.
He dials Ryan’s number on the way to his car. It goes to voicemail.
“Phone me back, fucker,” Spencer snaps, and hangs up. He throws his phone onto the passenger seat and heads home.
His phone rings just as he’s pulling into the driveway.
“You’re a dick,” Spencer says by way of greeting. “You’re a dick and you’ve been lying to me and I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Hi,” Ryan says. “So. Things going well then?”
“I’m not married to Brendon.”
“Oh?” Ryan says. He’s feigning surprise, but Spencer can tell. Spencer can always tell, when it comes to Ryan and he’s maybe a little bit mad at himself for not spotting that Ryan was hiding something earlier. “Really?”
“Cut the crap,” Spencer snaps. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. And that you didn’t make Jon tell me. What the fuck, Ryan?”
Ryan sighs. “Spence, look-”
“Don’t you ‘Spence’ me,” Spencer interrupts. “Did you think this was funny? Fuck, Ryan, why didn’t you tell me before we got all emotionally involved?”
“I didn’t tell you so this would happen,” Ryan replies. “And don’t front, you’ve always been emotionally involved. Both of you have been. You just needed a nudge and that’s what this was.”
“So, what, you decided Jon’s joke was so funny you’d use it to play matchmaker? Since when have you wanted to be some kind of puppetmaster with your friends?”
“I don’t,” Ryan says. Spencer can tell he’s getting annoyed, even if the inflection in his voice hardly changes. “But by the time I found out you’d already made the decision to play at being married. I figured either you’d end up confessing your feelings for each other and everything would work out, or you’d both continue being complete morons, figure it out on your own and it’d be a case of no harm, no foul.”
Spencer gets out of the car and slams the door, because he feels like it. It helps, a little, and he can practically hear Ryan rolling his eyes on the other end of the phone.
“Seriously, Spence, do you think you and Brendon would be together if this hadn’t happened?”
“Maybe,” Spencer says, leaning on the car for a moment, and then pushing himself away and stalking up the path towards the front door. “Maybe not. Okay, so maybe something good came out of all of this, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re a dick and I’m going to kick your ass when I see you. Jon’s too.”
“A small price to pay for seeing my best friend happy,” Ryan says serenely and Spencer makes a frustrated noise and sits down on the front stoop.
“I hate you,” Spencer says.
“No you don’t,” Ryan says, smugly and it’s true. Because Spencer can’t fault him for his intentions. His execution, though, that’s something Spencer can be pissed off about. And he’s planning on telling Ryan and Jon and Cash and Ian just how dickish they are as soon as he figures out how to break the news to Brendon.
“It wasn’t like it was some great thought out plan,” Ryan says. “In my defence. I just thought I’d keep my mouth shut. And tell Jon to maybe not tell you guys either. For awhile.”
“And you forgot to warn Cash and the others?” Spencer asks and Ryan sighs.
“I can’t think of everything, Spencer. I am only one man. Also, I am very high a lot of the time,” he says by way of explanation, sounding exasperated.
Spencer laughs despite himself, but it sounds hollow to his ears. He sighs.
“How am I going to tell him?” Spencer asks, leaning forward and running his hand over his face. “Seriously, Ryan. How am I going to tell Brendon? How can I say this to him?”
“Tell me what?”
Spencer jumps and turns. Brendon is standing in the doorway, staring at Spencer with a curious look on his face.
“Bren,” Spencer says, standing up. He still has his phone pressed to his ear and he can hear Ryan saying “Shit. Fuck. Shit.”
Brendon’s expression changes to wary. “Spence? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Spencer opens his mouth, but he can’t find the words. He’s not sure how Brendon’s going to take this, how he’s going to react to the joke and Ryan’s meddling.
“Here,” Spencer says into the phone. “You can do what you should have done a long time ago and tell him.” He tosses the phone to Brendon, who fumbles it but holds it up to his ear.
“Hello?” he says, and Spencer wants to look away, but he can’t. He watches as Brendon’s face changes, from confusion to annoyance to hurt to something Spencer doesn’t fully understand.
“Thanks a fucking lot,” Brendon says after a long moment, finally looking back at Spencer. Spencer’s not sure if he’s talking to him or Ryan, but Brendon shakes his head, just once and throws the phone back at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything else, just goes inside the house, leaving the door wide open behind him.
“Fuck,” Spencer says, and he can hear Ryan saying his name over and over, voice tinny and far away. He hangs up and follows Brendon inside.
He’s not downstairs so he heads up, and hears noise coming from the bedroom.
“Brendon,” Spencer says helplessly from the doorway.
Brendon looks up from the handful of shirts he’s stuffing into an old duffle bag.
“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, even though it’s obvious. Brendon looks away.
“Leaving,” he says. “I can’t…Fuck, Spencer, it’s all a lie. All of it is a lie. We…this…fuck, it’s just a joke.”
Spencer shakes his head. There’s a big lump in his throat and he has to swallow hard to get past it to say, “It’s not. Brendon, that little piece of paper, that’s the joke. It got us here, but it didn’t make us. This isn’t something you can joke about. It’s love. Stop being stupid about this.”
“This isn’t what I’m being stupid about,” Brendon says, reaching into the wardrobe again. He pulls out a pair of jeans and pauses, staring at them for a moment. “I was stupid to think this was something more than what it was.”
Spencer starts to push himself away from the door frame, but Brendon turns, his back to Spencer, and moves back to the bed and pushes the jeans into his bag.
“Maybe,” Brendon says, voice hushed, “maybe I only think I love you because I’m supposed to. It’s like an arranged marriage, this thing. We did the best we could with what we had and we managed to fool ourselves into feeling what we thought we should feel. We saw things in it, in each other, because we were supposed to. But there was nothing really there.”
“You love me,” Spencer insists.
“I think I loved you because that’s what married people are supposed to do,” Brendon zips up the bag and straightens. It takes him a moment until he looks at Spencer. “I think I just wanted a happy marriage so badly I’d have believed anything I wanted to believe.”
“How can you say that?” Spencer asks. It comes out as a whisper because his mouth is so dry.
“I can see clearly now,” Brendon tells him, folding his arms defensively across his chest. “Real love is supposed to be like a punch in the stomach. Your feet are supposed to go from underneath you and you don’t care. It should be a great passion that grows into something long lasting and practical for every day. We took something practical and every day, and tried to turn it into love because it was there. Love shouldn’t grow out of settling for what we’ve gotten stuck with.”
Spencer doesn’t know what to say. He feels numb and empty and like he might cry.
“I’m sorry,” Brendon says, shouldering his bag. “We should go back to how things were before. Not let this ruin the band, because that’s too important, you know? But I need some time. Don’t call me. Please. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“This isn’t my fault,” Spencer blurts out as Brendon steps around him, careful not to touch him at all. He walks down the hallway and Spencer can’t help but curl his fingers into fists at the unfairness of it all. “I didn’t do this, Brendon. I didn’t know.”
Brendon just keeps walking.
“I shouldn’t be punished,” Spencer says, to himself now as the front door opens and closes. He sits down where he stands, rests his forehead against the wooden frame. He imagines he can hear the sound of Brendon’s car starting, even though it’s too far away.
He’s still there when Ryan finds him an hour later.
“Spencer,” Ryan says softly, sitting down next to Spencer. There’s not much room and Ryan’s sharp edges dig into Spencer’s thigh and side and arm but Spencer doesn’t shift over, and neither does Ryan. “I’m sorry.”
“Where is he?” Spencer asks, lifting his head.
“I’m not sure,” Ryan replies. “Probably at his parents. Or wherever Shane is, maybe.”
Spencer shakes his head. “No, I meant Jon. Where’s Jon.”
Ryan gives Spencer a level look. “Not here,” Ryan is using his reassuring voice and Spencer wants to laugh, but he can’t quite bring himself to.
“I’m not going to punch him or anything,” Spencer assures Ryan.
“What about Brendon?”
Spencer does laugh then. “I’m not going to punch him either.”
Ryan gives him a long level look.
“Brendon isn’t mad at Jon,” Spencer tells him. “He’s not mad at Cash or Ian or you either. He’s just mad at me.”
“Why?” Ryan asks and Spencer shakes his head.
“I wish I fucking knew.”
Ryan reaches out and slides his fingers into Spencer’s fist, wriggling them insistently until Spencer loosens his grip and lets Ryan in.
They’ve known each other for essentially their whole lives, have been through amazing times and shitty times. And even through the ache of his broken heart, Spencer feels better just from Ryan’s simple touch.
“Thanks,” he says, and Ryan raises an eyebrow, like he doesn’t know what Spencer’s talking about.
They sit together until Ryan bitches that he’s getting cramp, and makes Spencer get up. They don’t talk much, and Spencer goes to bed early. He lies awake for hours, missing Brendon’s warmth next to him and wondering where Brendon is and if he’s missing Spencer.
At some point he falls asleep. When he wakes up, he doesn’t think it was all a dream, but he almost expects to find Brendon walking through the door with a sheepish grin and an apology for acting like such a dick.
Spencer goes downstairs without bothering with a shower or getting dressed. Ryan is sitting at the kitchen table, texting someone, but he puts his phone down when Spencer enters.
“Any word?” Spencer asks. The way Ryan winces at the hope in Spencer’s voice answers the question for him.
“I’ve been sleuthing around though,” Ryan says, as if he’s doesn’t mean he’s just called Jon and Zack and Shane and maybe Eric. “And I know he’s at Shane’s place.”
Spencer nods slowly and sits down. Ryan gets up and fixes him a cup of coffee and they sit in silence for awhile, watching the steam from their cups trail off as the liquid cools.
“He’ll be back,” Spencer says firmly, then looks up at Ryan, a little unsure. “Right?”
Ryan nods. “Yes,” he says, equally as firm. “Brendon’s not actually an idiot. Even if he does act like one occasionally. He’ll be back. Even if I have to drag him back.” He gives Spencer a hopeful look, like he’s trying to make Spencer laugh, but Spencer can only offer a weak smile in return.
“Yeah,” Spencer echoes. “He’ll be back.” He feels sure of it. That Brendon’s just reacting to the shock of the news, that once he’s had time to think, he’ll come back and things will be just like they should be.
But three days pass and Brendon doesn’t come home, doesn’t call. Jon calls, a lot, every day, but Spencer can’t bring himself to be mad at Jon over a joke that would probably have been almost funny if they’d realised straight away. In fact it’s the way they hadn’t even considered it was a joke that gives Spencer hope- that somewhere, deep down inside both of them, they’d wanted to be together, could believe they’d accidentally want to marry each other while inebriated. Spencer’s sure Brendon will realise that for himself, he just needs time.
“Spence,” Ryan says one day, coming over to where Spencer’s sitting at the table in the dining room. His laptop is open on one side of him, phone on the other, and he’s going over seating lists for the fifteenth time, trying to make sure neither of his sisters are sitting anywhere near Gabe. Or William. Or Ian.
“Hey Ry,” Spencer says, not looking up. He’s almost got it perfect, and he’s looking forward to showing Pete, to going round to his place and making sure everything will be set up alright for the day.
“We need to talk,” Ryan says, pulling out the chair opposite Spencer and sitting down. Spencer glances up and sees Ryan leaning forward, playing with the cuffs of his shirt nervously. That’s never a good sign and Spencer puts his pen down and pays attention.
“What’s wrong?” he asks calmly.
Ryan clears his throat and bites his lip as he looks at the seating chart in front of Spencer. “I think you need to cancel this wedding,” he says.
Spencer frowns.
“It’s not just me,” Ryan says hastily. “I’ve spoken to the others. Jon. Pete. Shane. And none of us want to see you get hurt.”
“You don’t think he’s coming back,” Spencer says, and it’s not a question.
Ryan shakes his head. “Oh, no, I think he’s coming back. To the band. Maybe, hopefully, to you. But I don’t think he’s coming back for this…” he pauses and waves his hand around the table, encompassing all of the pieces of paper around Spencer. He sighs. “This celebration of something that didn’t actually happen.”
“You’re saying Brendon doesn’t love me?” Spencer asks. “And that I don’t love him? Because that’s what this is a celebration of. Not some piece of paper that says we love each other. Because we don’t need that.”
Ryan shakes his head and reaches out a hand towards Spencer. The table’s wide enough that even with Ryan’s ridiculously long limbs, he can’t reach Spencer, and Spencer is glad. Because Ryan is wrong.
“I don’t think Brendon sees it that way,” Ryan says, pulling back his hand slowly when Spencer doesn’t reach out for him too. “I think he’s still just very hurt and upset.”
Spencer doesn’t reply. He picks up his pen again, taps it against the paper in front of him, and then puts it down. He knows Ryan is right, that there’s a chance Brendon isn’t going to come to his senses. Isn’t going to turn up, and Spencer thinks maybe he’s being an idiot, throwing himself so completely into making sure these plans for the not-wedding (or is it the not-not-wedding now? Spencer’s not sure) are perfect. Because it won’t be if Brendon’s not there.
“I know you think he’s going to come round on his own,” Ryan says, interrupting Spencer’s thoughts. “But I want you to be prepared for the possibility he won’t. I don’t want you to get hurt, Spence.”
“Too late,” Spencer says, and forces a laugh. Ryan doesn’t smile back.
“Any more hurt,” Ryan corrects himself and Spencer stares back at him for a moment before nodding and getting.
“You’re right,” he says. “Brendon’s not going to come round on his own.”
He picks up his hoodie, slung over the back of a nearby chair, and his car keys.
“Where’re you going?” Ryan asks, even though Spencer’s sure he already knows the answer.
“To tell Brendon he’s an idiot,” Spencer says, and heads out the door.
~~~
“What? No, Brendon’s not here,” Shane says, too loudly, too fake, when he opens the door to Spencer. Then he leans in closer and says, “he’s in the den. He saw your car pull up and made me promise to tell you he wasn’t here. And I did.” Shane looks proud of himself and Spencer can’t help but attempt a smile. He steps inside when Shane stands back to let him in.
Shane’s giving him a thoughtful look. He nods, once, and says, “You know, I forgot I need to go to the store and get…stuff. I’ll be gone for a little while. Don’t make him bleed on my new carpet, okay?”
And then he steps outside and closes the door behind him. Spencer waits until he hears the sound of Shane’s car pulling away, then walks into the den.
“Thanks man,” Brendon says, without looking up. He’s staring at his iPod, scrolling through something Spencer can’t see. “I know you hate lying to the guys but-”
“Hi,” Spencer interrupts, and Brendon goes very still. He looks towards Spencer without lifting his head, then after a moment he puts the iPod aside.
“Where’s Shane?” he asks.
“He had to go,” Spencer says.
“Oh,” Brendon says. He gets to his feet, and wipes his palms on his thighs. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, then folds his arms across his chest. “How are you?” he asks.
“How do you think I am?” Spencer asks and Brendon nods grimly.
“About the same as me?” he offers and Spencer laughs without meaning to.
“Oh, did your husband walk out on you too?” Spencer shoots back. He’s angry, suddenly, in a way he’s not been in a long time. Angry at Brendon for refusing to be reasonable about the whole situation.
Brendon looks stricken for a moment, then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Because I don’t have a husband.”
Spencer exhales sharply, like someone had just punched him in the chest. “What am I then?” he asks.
Brendon stares at Spencer for a long moment before replying. “You’re my best friend and band mate and the other person on the receiving end of this stupid practical joke.”
Spencer breaks eye contact to look away. “And that’s it?” he asks. “Because I thought we were a hell of a lot more than just that.”
“We thought we were,” Brendon replies and Spencer can hear Brendon moving around. For a moment he almost hopes Brendon is moving towards him, that he’s about to step into Spencer’s space. But then Spencer looks up and sees Brendon standing by the window, staring out onto the street.
“I still think we are,” Spencer says. “You just need to realise that too. As fucked up as it was, our friends were trying to help us out. They saw what we didn’t see. And as much as this whole thing hurts, I’m glad it did start as a joke, because otherwise it might not have started at all.” He walks over to the sofa and sits down on the arm, watching Brendon carefully.
Brendon stares outside for a beat or two longer, then turns to look at Spencer.
“How can you be so calm about this?” Brendon asks, raising his voice. “How can you stand there and act like everything should be the same, when it was all a lie?”
“Because it wasn’t,” Spencer half-yells back. “Because even though the first day was a lie, the rest of it wasn’t.” His hand is clenched in a fist, resting on his thigh, and the frustration is enough that he wants to pound it down- onto his thigh to bruise himself and hurt from physical pain for a change, into the wall so he can see his knuckles bleed, and now, maybe, into Brendon’s face. He wonders if it’d knock some sense into Brendon, but he knows it’s a stupid thing to think about. He never would, never could, no matter how much this is hurting inside. He lets his fingers uncurl, breathing slow and even.
“You don’t understand,” Brendon says softly, and Spencer looks up, a harsh laugh ready on his lips.
“I don’t understand?” he asks hotly and Brendon gives Spencer a wistful look.
“I was so happy,” he says. “I’ve never… not a lot of things have felt right in my life, you know? Those moments where everything clicks and you say ‘fuck, this is what I’m supposed to do, what I am’? They’re rare moments for me. I…there’ve only been two, so far. The day Brent brought me down to your basement to audition, and that moment when you said you loved me back.”
Brendon pushes himself away from the window sill and paces a few steps towards Spencer. He seems to catch himself, realise what he’s doing, and he turns, putting his back to Spencer and pressing his hands against the glass and staring out.
“I tried not to dream,” Brendon explains. “Even when we were teenagers and Ryan would tell us how we were going to make it big, how we were going to get signed and play to thousands of people who’d sing along…I didn’t let myself really dream, because I didn’t think it’d ever happen. Sometimes I still can’t believe it all has happened.”
“Me too,” Spencer says quietly and Brendon moves his head a fraction in Spencer’s direction in acknowledgement.
“I didn’t let myself dream then. But the past few months, with you…I did. Fuck, Spence, I planned out future out in my head. I thought of the houses we’d live in, about painting nurseries and teaching our kids to ride bikes and sending them off on their first day of school. I thought of watching them grow and watching us get older together. I thought of sending them off to college and us comforting each other in our suddenly empty home. I thought about us old and grey and playing canasta in some retirement village in Florida. I thought of us spending our entire lives together and, fuck, you have no idea how much I wanted it to come true.”
“It still can,” Spencer says. His voice is croaky and his throat feels dry and constricted. “Bren, I want all of that too. You think I haven’t been thinking the same thing?”
Brendon shakes his head, still not turning around. “I just don’t see how we can build a future like that on a past that wasn’t what we thought it was.”
Spencer can’t think of a single thing to say in response, at least not one he’s not said over and over already.
“Do you love me?” he asks, eventually and Brendon sighs.
“I don’t know what’s real and what’s part of the lie anymore,” he says, and Spencer’s eyes prickle hotly and his nose itches.
He looks away from Brendon, casting his eyes around. Brendon’s iPod is an arms reach away from him and he slides his hands across the cream fabric of the sofa and picks it up. He turns it on, expecting to see the playlist of songs, or maybe a video, that he’d thought Brendon had been looking at. Instead Spencer finds himself looking at a picture Jon had taken of Brendon and Spencer together, one evening during the writing process, legs stretched out in front of them in the Californian sunshine. They’re laughing, heads tipped in towards each other and they look happy.
He slides his thumb around the click wheel and it scrolls onto the next photo. It’s one Brendon had snapped of Spencer when he’d been making dinner one night. It’s blurry and too close so all you can see is a flash of Spencer’s smile, his hair falling in his eyes and hand reaching out to push the camera away.
Spencer clicks through to the next one, and then the next, and the next. They’re all pictures of Spencer, or Spencer and Brendon together. Happy. Smiling. Unaware. It makes Spencer’s heart ache for those times.
Spencer puts the iPod back where he found it and looks up to find Brendon looking at him. His expression is soft, worried. Neither of them say anything for a long moment.
“Why haven’t you cancelled it?” Brendon asks, and Spencer notes the use of ‘it’. “My mom phoned the other day, wanting to confirm something. She didn’t know it had been cancelled.”
“What did you tell her?”
Brendon shrugs. “I couldn’t do it. She seemed so happy about it. My parents…they’re not always happy about the things I choose to do. They’re happy I’m with you though. I don’t know how to tell them it was all a joke.”
“Are you still with me?” Spencer asks.
Brendon doesn’t reply.
They sit in silence for several minutes. Spencer tries to think of what he can say to convince Brendon that what they have is worth fighting for, but part of him is screaming that he shouldn’t have to convince Brendon. That Brendon should just know, should just feel it, the way Spencer does. A wave of defeat washes over him and Spencer’s shoulders slump for a moment, then he gets to his feet.
He walks towards Brendon, noting the wary look on Brendon’s face. For a moment Spencer considers just diving in and kissing him. Kissing him until Brendon gives in and stops acting like the past few months meant nothing.
But he doesn’t. Instead he takes two jewellery boxes out of his pocket and holds them out towards Brendon.
“Here,” Spencer says. “You should take these.”
“I don’t want them,” Brendon shakes his head. “They’re…they’re just symbols of a lie.”
Spencer gives Brendon a sad look. “No,” he says. “They’re a symbol of the day everything changed and put us on the road to a place where I realised I loved you. And that you love me.”
He sees Brendon swallow, and hope flares in his chest, warm and familiar and comforting. He presses on.
“Because I think I’ve loved you a long time, Brendon, and just didn’t realise it. And I’d probably have carried on not realising it if this hadn’t happened. And you would have met someone and married then and none of this would ever have happened.”
“No,” Brendon doesn’t look up from where his eyes are resting on the boxes on Spencer’s outstretched palm. “No. It wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have married someone else, Spence. Because it was always you, okay? Always.”
Spencer stares at him until Brendon looks up. “Then what does this matter?” he asks. He knows it sounds like he’s begging, like he’s pleading, but he can’t help it. “What does it matter if that piece of paper was real or not? Because it felt real, right?”
Brendon shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it does matter. I can’t…fuck, this was all a joke Spencer. Everything we have, is a joke.”
“I’m not laughing,” Spencer points out. “I’m not even fucking smiling, because you’re breaking my heart, Brendon.”
Brendon turns away and doesn’t say anything. His shoulders are high and rigid and Spencer’s never felt more shut out from Brendon than he does right at that frustrating moment.
Spencer lets out a long, shuddery breath. “Okay,” he says. “Fine. Here.”
He puts two boxes on the windowsill, each one containing one of their rings. “You hold onto these,” he says. “You can do whatever you want with them. But I’m going to be there, standing up in front of all those people, waiting to say those vows to you. And I’d like it if you’d be there to put that ring back on my finger, and to let me put that one on yours.”
Then he turns on his heel and leaves.
On to Part 5.