PatD ficlet: 'Trying' Being the Operative Word (Jon/Spencer, PG-13)
Title: 'Trying' Being the Operative Word
Pairing: Jon/Spencer
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Spencer and Jon have a stupid fight. They come to a stupid way to make up. 950 words.
'Trying' Being the Operative Word
Spencer's finally fallen asleep-finally, after four hours in his bunk: two ambient albums that made him more annoyed than sleepy and two episodes of One Tree Hill that made him hate himself a little-when he hears the rustle of his curtains, an inquiring sort of rustle. When he flicks them back, heart pounding harder than it really ought to be, Jon's looking down at him.
If he's come to apologize, that face he's wearing-the cautious but determined one-it's not in the slightest convincing Spencer of that fact. Except his eyes are, a little. Goddamn his fucking sincere fucking eyes. And his hands. Sometimes, Spencer hates how much he wants Jon Walker.
"Can I…?" Jon mumbles, nodding his head at Spencer's bunk.
After a long, torturous pause, wherein Spencer can't decide whether he wants to be a total asshole and tell him to go away or crumble and beg him to stay, Spencer simply works himself into a sigh and makes a place for him.
He's not even all that angry anymore. It was petty and stupid and it's not worth it. But there are forms of making up, and they're formal forms, right? You can't just roll into someone's bunk like you didn't call him a controlling asshole (and mean it) and expect him to mold along your side and forget he called you a bossy fuckwit (and mean it)-can you?
Spencer lets Jon spoon up behind him, and it's not nearly as tentative as it should be. He feels Jon's arms relax around him, feels him breathe against his neck, and it's nice. Spencer feels that hard thing inside him that had been keeping him from sleeping dissolve away, like nothing was ever wrong. He has to make a conscious effort to remember he's still angry. Right?
It's hard. Really, he'd love to fall asleep like this, warm and happy and knowing Jon still wants to hold him like this, and just deal with it tomorrow. But of course they can't. Can they?
"Spencer," Jon whispers.
Spencer pretends to be asleep. Of course they can't.
Jon murmurs in his ear, "I know you're still awake, and I know you're trying to stay mad at me. So here's what I'm thinking: neither of us is going to fucking apologize, because we don't really think we're wrong, and maybe we're not. So do you think we can just agree to let those not-apologies cancel each other out and just stop being pissy and ridiculous?"
Oh, he'd love to start some shit--oh, so I'm pissy and ridiculous now? what the fuck does that make you?--but Brendon throws shoes when you wake him up in the middle of the night, and besides, Spencer's exhausted, physically and mentally. And…maybe it makes sense?
So he says, "That doesn't even make sense."
"Sure it does. I concede that I don't need an apology from you based on the fact that I don't want to have to give you one in return. And vice versa for you."
"You just want me to stop being mad at you."
"You stopped being mad already, or you wouldn't have been asleep."
"And you?"
"I can't stay mad at you. You know that."
Spencer does know that, actually, from the time they were just bandmates and not friends-lovers-boyfriends. Jon can't stay mad at anybody. That's what made it so weird that he stomped out of the lounge and held his ground, even when Spencer would've so easily crumbled. He does that sometimes, at least where Jon's concerned.
Spencer says, "Then what the fuck are we being stubborn about?"
"I don't know. We hate to be wrong? That's why I think the best solution is to let us both be right."
"You're serious?"
Jon sighs. "Spencer…"
"Fine," Spencer says, sighing dramatically. "Fine," he says again, but he's smiling now. "So I'm a controlling asshole, and you're a bossy fuckwit."
Jon giggles. "Ah. I see the flaw in my plan now."
Spencer smiles some more and talks against his pillow. "No, it's a good plan. Except… Well, I'm afraid it won't always work."
"I know," Jon says with a sigh. "And we'll figure it out eventually. But this? When we're both being, like, insanely stupid about things, it's best we admit it, right?"
Spencer wishes there were more room. He'd roll over and kiss him and curl up against his chest and listen to his heart and be thankful that they may be stubborn and have stupidly short tempers sometimes, but they're just as quick to make up, and just as stubborn about it. Apparently.
"So," Spencer says, "when people ask us what our first couple-y fight was about, we don't have to tell them Guitar Hero, do we?"
"Oh, I'm sure it won't be us telling the story at all."
A flat, nasal voice pipes up from across the aisle. "Especially if you're tragically struck down by a projectile shoe. In that case, I'm changing the song you were arguing over to something by a third-teer hair band."
"Like Warrant?" Jon asks.
"Or Winger," Spencer says.
"More like Ratt," Ryan murmurs.
Then a mumbly voice pipes up from above Ryan: "More like Converse, size 10 and a half."
Spencer sets himself up behind Jon like he's a human shield, but it's just a contingency plan. He figures Ryan will be the first target, as hard as he's giggling now.
~
Pairing: Jon/Spencer
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Spencer and Jon have a stupid fight. They come to a stupid way to make up. 950 words.
'Trying' Being the Operative Word
Spencer's finally fallen asleep-finally, after four hours in his bunk: two ambient albums that made him more annoyed than sleepy and two episodes of One Tree Hill that made him hate himself a little-when he hears the rustle of his curtains, an inquiring sort of rustle. When he flicks them back, heart pounding harder than it really ought to be, Jon's looking down at him.
If he's come to apologize, that face he's wearing-the cautious but determined one-it's not in the slightest convincing Spencer of that fact. Except his eyes are, a little. Goddamn his fucking sincere fucking eyes. And his hands. Sometimes, Spencer hates how much he wants Jon Walker.
"Can I…?" Jon mumbles, nodding his head at Spencer's bunk.
After a long, torturous pause, wherein Spencer can't decide whether he wants to be a total asshole and tell him to go away or crumble and beg him to stay, Spencer simply works himself into a sigh and makes a place for him.
He's not even all that angry anymore. It was petty and stupid and it's not worth it. But there are forms of making up, and they're formal forms, right? You can't just roll into someone's bunk like you didn't call him a controlling asshole (and mean it) and expect him to mold along your side and forget he called you a bossy fuckwit (and mean it)-can you?
Spencer lets Jon spoon up behind him, and it's not nearly as tentative as it should be. He feels Jon's arms relax around him, feels him breathe against his neck, and it's nice. Spencer feels that hard thing inside him that had been keeping him from sleeping dissolve away, like nothing was ever wrong. He has to make a conscious effort to remember he's still angry. Right?
It's hard. Really, he'd love to fall asleep like this, warm and happy and knowing Jon still wants to hold him like this, and just deal with it tomorrow. But of course they can't. Can they?
"Spencer," Jon whispers.
Spencer pretends to be asleep. Of course they can't.
Jon murmurs in his ear, "I know you're still awake, and I know you're trying to stay mad at me. So here's what I'm thinking: neither of us is going to fucking apologize, because we don't really think we're wrong, and maybe we're not. So do you think we can just agree to let those not-apologies cancel each other out and just stop being pissy and ridiculous?"
Oh, he'd love to start some shit--oh, so I'm pissy and ridiculous now? what the fuck does that make you?--but Brendon throws shoes when you wake him up in the middle of the night, and besides, Spencer's exhausted, physically and mentally. And…maybe it makes sense?
So he says, "That doesn't even make sense."
"Sure it does. I concede that I don't need an apology from you based on the fact that I don't want to have to give you one in return. And vice versa for you."
"You just want me to stop being mad at you."
"You stopped being mad already, or you wouldn't have been asleep."
"And you?"
"I can't stay mad at you. You know that."
Spencer does know that, actually, from the time they were just bandmates and not friends-lovers-boyfriends. Jon can't stay mad at anybody. That's what made it so weird that he stomped out of the lounge and held his ground, even when Spencer would've so easily crumbled. He does that sometimes, at least where Jon's concerned.
Spencer says, "Then what the fuck are we being stubborn about?"
"I don't know. We hate to be wrong? That's why I think the best solution is to let us both be right."
"You're serious?"
Jon sighs. "Spencer…"
"Fine," Spencer says, sighing dramatically. "Fine," he says again, but he's smiling now. "So I'm a controlling asshole, and you're a bossy fuckwit."
Jon giggles. "Ah. I see the flaw in my plan now."
Spencer smiles some more and talks against his pillow. "No, it's a good plan. Except… Well, I'm afraid it won't always work."
"I know," Jon says with a sigh. "And we'll figure it out eventually. But this? When we're both being, like, insanely stupid about things, it's best we admit it, right?"
Spencer wishes there were more room. He'd roll over and kiss him and curl up against his chest and listen to his heart and be thankful that they may be stubborn and have stupidly short tempers sometimes, but they're just as quick to make up, and just as stubborn about it. Apparently.
"So," Spencer says, "when people ask us what our first couple-y fight was about, we don't have to tell them Guitar Hero, do we?"
"Oh, I'm sure it won't be us telling the story at all."
A flat, nasal voice pipes up from across the aisle. "Especially if you're tragically struck down by a projectile shoe. In that case, I'm changing the song you were arguing over to something by a third-teer hair band."
"Like Warrant?" Jon asks.
"Or Winger," Spencer says.
"More like Ratt," Ryan murmurs.
Then a mumbly voice pipes up from above Ryan: "More like Converse, size 10 and a half."
Spencer sets himself up behind Jon like he's a human shield, but it's just a contingency plan. He figures Ryan will be the first target, as hard as he's giggling now.
~