Oxford Comma (Brendon/Spencer)

[jae_w]

Title: Oxford Comma
Recipient: bayleaf
Author: trixiesfic
Band: Panic! at the Disco
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Rating: PG
Summary: College AU. Spencer really sucks at being single.
Warnings: none


*

Spencer is bored. He feels kind of bad about that, because the band playing are friends of Greta's and it's the first GLBT mixer of the semester and he's supposed to be embracing his newfound singlehood. But the drummer is just slightly off on his timing and it's causing Spencer actual physical pain, plus his friends have disappeared. Ryan is sitting on one of the couches in back of the room, talking very intently to a tall blond girl, leaning in more than is probably necessary to make himself heard and applying every one of his dubious charms. For her part, the girl looks slightly bored already and Spencer really wishes Jon were here, because laying bets on Ryan's pick-up skills always makes these kinds of parties more fun. He scans the room for Greta, because she'd probably be up for a bet.

Instead of Greta his eyes are caught by a guy standing directly across the room from him. The guy is standing by himself against the wall, a coke can in one hand and his other hand tapping out a rhythm on his leg. He's got artfully messy dark hair, full lips, and he's wearing a bright pink t-shirt, ridiculously tight girl jeans and converse sneakers, but even with the uniform he looks painfully out of place. Spencer can tell that he's looking around without making eye contact with anyone and trying desperately to look comfortable by himself. Spencer has been there before, back when Ryan used to drag him to parties where he didn't know anyone and then go off to hook up with girls, which is not unlike now, except that Spencer is a lot more comfortable with himself and knows just as many people in the room as Ryan these days. In any event, Spencer feels a certain kinship, especially when the guy flinches at the inept drummer missing a tempo change. It makes Spencer laugh and the guy turns at that moment and looks right at Spencer, widening his eyes when he realizes he's being watched. Spencer nods towards the band and grimaces, hoping his message gets across. The guy looks at the band for a split second and then back to Spencer and grins. Spencer smiles back at him and the guy's grin gets even bigger, splitting his face. And wow, okay, the guy is seriously adorable.

"Hey." Ryan appears next to him and grabs the drink out of his hand, finishing it off in one gulp and then handing it back. "What's with the anti-social act?"

"I'm not anti-social."

"Uh huh," Ryan makes a show of looking around Spencer at the lack of people in his vicinity. "Anyway, this thing is lame, so I don't blame you."

"She shot you down, huh?" Spencer grins at Ryan and laughs when Ryan refuses to react at all.

"Whatever. You're the one standing in the corner when you're supposed to be sowing your wild oats or some fucking thing. You wanna get out of here?"

Spencer looks back across the room, but the cute guy has vanished and a quick scan of the room doesn't reveal him anywhere obvious. And that is seriously disappointing.

"C'mon," Ryan says, grabbing Spencer's arm to get his attention. "Greta said she's going to some party with her music department friends and also, Joe should be home by now."

"Yeah, alright." Spencer chucks his cup into a recycling bin and follows Ryan out, because the sure thing of Joe's weed seems like a better bet than hoping he can find the pink-shirted guy again.

The air outside is warmer than the air-conditioned student union. Spencer takes off his hoodie and tosses it over one shoulder before falling into step next to Ryan to make the trek across the campus to where Ryan parked his car.

"You really suck at this, you know," Ryan says, looking over at Spencer with a smirk.

"What? Walking?" Spencer feigns confusion at the sudden declaration and mock stumbles off a curb into Ryan.

"Ass." Ryan pushes him back and Spencer actually has to work not to trip over the curb for real. "It's fine if you just want to miss Haley for a while, but you're the one who said you were going to embrace being young and single and bisexual like a normal college student." Ryan refrains from actually making the quote marks with his fingers, but Spencer can hear them in his voice anyway and if he didn't remember saying those exact words a week ago, he might be more annoyed. But he did say them. He moped around half of the summer after Haley left, feeling sorry for himself, and then when school started again he decided it was time to dust himself off and start over.

"We can't all be as good at casual sex as you are."

Ryan looks over at him with a raised eyebrow. "I feel as though that was meant to be an insult, and yet I am unwounded"

"Pretentious ass."

"Serial Monogamist."

"Jerk."

"Oh!" Ryan exclaims and slap a hand over his heart. "Just for that you have to buy me some nachos from S'leven on the way home."

"Whatever." Spencer would protest, but nothing goes better with Joe's weed than spicy processed cheese sauce. Spencer spares a moment to regret not trying to track down the guy at the mixer, but they have a long year ahead of them and there will probably be plenty of other pink-shirted guys or girls.

*

"It was some kind of acapella group doing a Kanye song, and that could have been cool, right? Only it just... wasn't. It was serious badness."

"Why were they doing it?" Spencer pulls a handful of dough out of his bowl and rolls it into a ball in his hands while looking over at Cassie.

"Fuck if I know!" She waves the knife in her hand around dangerously and Spencer moves away a step. "It was someone's bright idea to put a performance space in the library, so now it's impossible to study on the first floor, which really sucks because that's where all the sun is."

"I never could study on the first floor," Jon chimes in from the table, where he's looking at Spencer and Cassie through the lens of his camera. Spencer scowls at him and it makes Jon grin and snap a photo.

Cassie snorts. "That's because you're a big lazy housecat and you love to fall asleep in the sun."

"Hey!" Jon sets his camera down and shuffles up behind Cassie. "I resemble that remark." He licks up Cassie's cheek, making her giggle and elbow him in the ribs. That starts a half-hearted struggle between Jon, who is trying to lick Cassie's face, and Cassie, who is trying to push him away, until Cassie stuffs a cherry tomato in his mouth and he wanders back to the table, satisfied.

Spencer mostly ignores them, turning back to his dough, rolling it into a long string, then twists it with one already done and lays it on a cookie sheet, before going for another ball of dough. He keeps working until he has two full cookie sheets of dough twists, then starts brushing his butter and garlic sauce over them and sprinkles cheese over that, while listening to Jon and Cassie talk about their european history class. Spencer has a feeling that Jon's eating more vegetables than are actually going into the salad, but he doesn't really care, because the kitchen is warm and smells like his veggie lasagna already.

"Is everyone making it to dinner tonight?"

"Yeah," Cassie answers, sticking the completed salad back in the fridge to wait and grabbing herself a beer. "Oh, and also Greta's bringing a potential housemate to see the room and meet us."

"A good prospect?"

Cassie nods. "A guy from the music department, apparently. He's in the dorms now, but hates it, I guess. She says he's cool."

"Cool is good," Jon says. "Able to pay rent and unlikely to sleep with our dear Ryan, even better."

Cassie smacks Jon on the back of the head and Spencer laughs.

"I have to second that motion," he says.

Spencer had liked their former housemate, Keltie, but he'd seen disaster the moment she'd started sleeping with Ryan. Ryan likes to give Spencer a hard time about the fact that Spencer fell in love with a girl he met at freshman orientation and spent the next year seriously dating her, but Ryan had spent a lot of that year all wound up in Keltie. Ryan just failed to grasp the concept of monogamy and that had led to a lot of drama in the house, until Keltie had taken a job in New York and left. Since then, they'd taken their time trying to find a new housemate, mostly because they were all really happy with the group they had now and didn't want to mess with the chemistry. But with the new semester, most of them were working fewer hours and they could really use the extra share to take off the pressure.

Spencer was lucky. Ryan had met and befriended Jon his Freshman year, which meant that when Spencer followed him to college the next year, he had never had to live in the dorms. But that wasn't the only reason he loved the house. It was a giant old victorian house, with a big yard and porch and a greenhouse out in the back. It wasn't in the best repair and the furnace only seemed to have two settings-- off and fires of hell, which is how it had earned it's name, Hellmouth Manor, one winter night when they were all sitting around in as few clothes as possible and watching Buffy on late night reruns.

"Spencer Fucking Smith!" The back door swings open and Amanda breezes in. "That smells sinful."

"Amanda Fucking Palmer!" he replies. "You look sinful."

Spencer grins as Amanda kisses him on the cheek. "You're my favorite," she says, and hands over the tote bag she's carrying filled with several bottles of wine.

Amanda is Spencer's favorite too, aside from Ryan, who doesn't really count since Ryan claimed that spot when he was seven years old. Amanda was here before any of them and even though she rents it from some British writer friend, they all think of it as her house. She's a little older than everyone else and quit school years ago to make music and art and live what she calls a sustainable revolutionary lifestyle. Spencer's not entirely sure what that means, but he loves to listen to her talk about it. She's one part big sister, one part queer mentor, and several other parts head trouble-maker around the house.

"Get your nose out of there," he hip checks Amanda away from the oven, where she was opening the door to check on the lasagna.

"Kitchen tyrant!" But she moves away easily enough, pulling down wine glasses, and greeting Jon and Cassie.

Despite chasing Amanda away, the lasagna looks just the right amount of golden and bubbly on top, so Spencer pulls it out and exchanges it for the two pans of cheese sticks. He sets a timer, grabs a corkscrew and is working on opening one of the wine bottles when they hear the bell on the front door and Greta's yelled, "Hello?"

"Kitchen!" both Amanda and Jon yell in unison, then laugh.

"Hey, guys," Greta pokes her head around the doorway and smiles. "Come on," she says to someone out in the hallway. Spencer is pouring himself a glass of wine and isn't looking up when she says, "Everyone, this is Brendon."

Spencer looks up and nearly drops the bottle when he realizes that it's the guy from the GLBT mixer, the cute pink-shirted guy. Except now he's wearing a red hoodie and nearly-matching red glasses. Spencer sets the bottle and his glass down on the counter.

"Hi!" the guy, Brendon, says and actually waves at them, before seeming to realize it was a dorky thing to do and sticking his hand in his pocket.

Greta introduces him around and he smiles and nods and repeats everyone's name, shaking their hands. When they get to Spencer, his eyes widen a little and he says, "Oh, hey! Um, Spencer."

Spencer laughs, says, "Yeah, hey Brendon," and shakes his hand, because really, what is he supposed to say? Yeah, I'm the guy who made eyes at you from across the room a few weeks ago.

"So this is most of the house," Greta says, a hand wrapped around one of Brendon's forearms. "Except for Ryan and Joe."

"Ryan's in his room," Jon says, "Joe said he'll be about half hour late."

"Greta says you're a music major?" Amanda asks. "What instrument? Or are you doing voice?"

"Yeah," Brendon nods and he looks slightly more comfortable. "Um, I haven't really decided for sure yet. I play piano and guitar best, but I'm also thinking about voice."

"Piano and guitar, best? What else do you play?"

Brendon looks a little surprised at Amanda's question and suddenly seems reluctant to answer. "Oh, uh, drums. Some cello, a little trumpet and accordion."

Greta is grinning affectionately at Brendon and Spencer suddenly gets why Greta likes him and why she's so enthusiastic about him moving into the house. Greta had told Spencer once about what it was like to love music so much and to be good at any musical instrument she picked up, but to feel like she had to hide some of her talent because kids could be jealous and mean.

"But, I don't know, I might go the music ed route. I'm still trying to get a feel for the department here."

"Everyone in the house plays something, so you'll fit right in," Amanda says, and Spencer sees Cassie's eyes roll right on cue. Technically, Cassie took two years of clarinet when she was in junior high school, but she doesn't consider herself a musician in the way that everyone else in the house does to some degree or another. Cassie seems to consider it a point of pride, even if Amanda refuses to acknowledge it. It's a silent victimless war they've had going on ever since Cassie moved in with Jon a year ago.

"That's what Greta said." Brendon smiles and bounces on his toes once. "Awesome."

"So, I know Greta's given you the basic info on the house." Amanda turns more serious, taking on her role as the main leaseholder. "I live on the third-floor in the converted attic space. There's four rooms on the second floor, Ryan and Spencer are at one end, Jon and Cassie have the big bedroom that used to be the master suite, and you'd have the smallest room. We think it was probably originally a large closet/dressing room kind of thing, and it shares a bathroom with Jon and Cassie's room. It's tiny, but livable, especially if you're coming from the dorms. Greta has a room on this floor in the back. And Joe lives out in the greenhouse."

"He lives in a greenhouse?" Brendon asks.

"There's a little one room apartment attached to the greenhouse. It's all pretty much his domain out there," Jon explains, and does not get into what exactly Joe is growing in the greenhouse. That conversation will come at some point before they offer Brendon a space in the house, Spencer knows.

"Joe and myself pay the largest share of the rent, because we have the most space. Your share is the smallest, because of the tiny room. Everyone else falls somewhere in between based on space and other variables. We split the utilities and go in together on a lot of the groceries, but we also have our own personal stuff in the pantry. We have house dinners once a week, and only the most serious of excuses gets you out of them. We have a roster with two people assigned to cook each meal, but there's also an elaborate barter system wherein we bribe Spencer to cook as often as possible, because he's awesome."

"I am," Spencer answers on cue.

"We're not just sharing space here," Amanda says, and Spencer has a flashback to his own introduction to the house a little over a year ago. "It's a home, not an apartment building, and while we each have our own space and know how to leave each other alone, we're also connected to each other. We're a community, something more than roommates, and we try to take care of each other."

Brendon looks a little overwhelmed by Amanda's intensity on the subject, but there's also a moment where he looks like a starving man offered a gourmet meal, before the look passes and he smiles at Amanda and says, "That sounds great."

"You want to see the rest of the place?" Greta asks, seeming to understand that Brendon is a little overwhelmed.

When Greta and Amanda head upstairs with Brendon, Spencer goes back to pouring wine. He pours his own, then Jon's, then offers some to Cassie, but she wrinkles her nose as usual and takes a pointed drink of her beer.

"So, you've met Brendon?" she asks.

"What?"

"Because it sure looked like you two knew each other from somewhere, but you didn't say anything."

"We haven't met." Spencer takes a sip of wine and turns to check on the breadsticks, but when Cassie continues to stare, he gives in. "I saw him at that GLBT mixer thing Greta, Ry and I went to last month. We uh, non-verbally shared our opinion on the band's drummer."

"Are you saying your eyes met across a crowded room?" Jon asks, grinning.

"No, that's not what I'm saying." Spencer turns away to hide the fact that he's pretty sure his face is red, but Jon laughs. Sometimes, Spencer's housemates know him too well, and that's a giant pain in the ass.

"Sure, Spence. Whatever you say."

Eventually, Ryan wanders downstairs with the others and they sit down to dinner. Joe shows up twenty minutes later, still in hospital scrub pants, and dumps his backpack and grabs a plate, all while complaining about the "bullshit medical industrial complex", before he suddenly notices the new face at the table. "Oh, hey, you must be Brendon," he says, leaning across the table to shake Brendon's hand. "I'm Joe Trohman, resident med student. I live in the greenhouse."

"I heard," Brendon says and grins at Joe like he's endlessly amused by this new person with the crazy 'fro escaping from his knit cap.

"My reputation continues to proceed me. Cool." With that, Joe digs into his lasagna and Greta goes back to her conversation with Brendon about the music department.

"So, you're a Freshman?" Ryan asks, when there's a break in conversation. Spencer can tell that Ryan hasn't quite decided whether he likes Brendon or not, but that's pretty much Ryan's approach to everyone, even after knowing them for some time.

"No," Brendon answers, taking a sip of his wine. "Sophomore, or something. I transferred from another school, so I lost a few credits, I think. But basically, it's my second year."

"Where'd you transfer from?"

"BYU."

"No, shit? You a Mormon?" Ryan asks, and if he were closer, Spencer would probably kick him under the table.

"Ex-Mormon." Brendon sets his wine glass down and wipes his mouth with his napkin before clearing his throat and going on. "I quit the church a while ago, but I promised my parents I'd give BYU a chance and I gave it a year, but... Well, they never got less religious and I never got any less gay." He shrugs self-consciously and Spencer can tell that he trying to gauge the reaction of everyone at the table. Spencer is ridiculously charmed by how Brendon seems simultaneously terrified of their reaction, and defiant in his declaration. "So, here I am."

"Did you parents react badly?" Spencer had known some Mormon kids back home, all of varying degrees of religiousness, and he can imagine some of their parents reacting really badly to a gay kid.

"They..." Brendon pauses and starts over. "We're working things out. But they aren't paying for school anymore. I ended up here partly because I snagged a music scholarship for tuition and books. I'm working for the rest. They haven't, like, disowned me though, yet. So, I'm okay, I guess, considering."

*

Two days later, Brendon moves in with a duffle bag, a garbage bag full of bedding, a backpack, a guitar and an electronic keyboard. He settles in quickly and comfortably. For the first few weeks, he's ridiculously polite and helpful to the point that Ryan calls him Jeeves when he's not around. Brendon's actually working two jobs, so he's not around a whole lot. He has a work study job in the music department offices and he fits in hours when he can at the smoothie shop in the Student Union Building. But the first time that he gets high with them, sitting out on the back porch, he finally relaxes. He does a hilarious Gollum impression, sings half the songs to Aladdin with Jon, and manages to beat Spencer at Guitar Hero in an epic three hour battle. A week after that Amanda strong-arms him into getting up on stage at one of her cabaret shows and singing, "Hit Me Baby One More Time."

And just like that, Brendon is a member of the Hellmouth family.

*

Spencer can't read another word about economics. He's been trying to work on the same page of text for the past hour, but it's so boring that he can't remember what he's read from one paragraph to the next. He gives up and shoves the book off his bed. It's two in the morning, but he's wide awake and annoyed at his inability to care about historical barter economies. He pulls a hoodie on, because the house is kind of chilly tonight and goes downstairs to see what's in the kitchen. He detours to the front room when he hears the tv on low and finds Brendon slouched down in front of the tv.

"Hey," he says quietly, and feels bad when Brendon jumps. "Sorry."

"It's okay, just wasn't expecting anyone. What are you doing up?"

"Can't sleep. You?"

"Same. Mostly, I'm working on this piano piece for my composition class."

"In front of the tv," Spencer asks, dubiously and sits down next to him.

"In my head." Brendon waves a hand around his head and pulls a silly face. "It helps to distract my forebrain or some shit, I dunno. It just works." He grins when Spencer laughs and turns back to the tv. "Why can't you sleep?"

Spencer slides down into the couch more comfortably and puts his feet up on the coffee table. "I was trying to study and it was boring me to tears, but not to sleep apparently."

"That sucks, dude."

"Yeah." The commercials end and there's suddenly a guy huddled in a lean-to in the snow and talking about the best way to cook a rabbit. "What the hell are you watching?"

"Man vs. Wild. Bear Grylls, dude. You've never seen him?" When Spencer shakes his head, Brendon sits up, his eyes sparkling. "He's fucking awesome. He's this, like, ex-British Special Forces guy and he gets himself dropped into all kind of wilderness situations and shit, and then he has to survive it, right? He MacGuyver's all this crazy stuff and eats gross shit. It's awesome."

Spencer is dubious, but onscreen, the guy is digging into a freshly barbecued bunny like it's the best thing he's ever eaten. "His name is really Bear Grylls?"

"It totally is." Brendon grins like it's the most awesome name ever, and Spencer doesn't actually believe it, but onscreen, Bear is making a pair of snowshoes out of a few branches and some pieces of what looks like it used to be a parachute rig and it's strangely compelling.

They watch in comfortable silence for a while, until the commercials come on and Spencer remembers that he was hungry. "Hey, I'm gonna make a grilled ham and cheese, you want one?"

"Dude, yes!" Brendon follows Spencer into the kitchen and happily slathers the bread in butter while Spencer heats up the skillet. When that's done, he hops up on the counter and watches Spencer puts the sandwiches together and place them carefully in the pan, moving them occasionally to keep them heating evenly.

"So what were you studying that was so boring?"

"Econ. I don't even know why I took the fucking class, other than to fulfill a social science credit."

"I don't think you ever mentioned what you're majoring in."

Spencer snorts. "That's because I have no idea."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I have no idea what I want to do. I've been trying to take stuff to fulfill my basic credits and hoping something will stick. So far, though, not so much." Spencer flips the sandwiches and is satisfied with the perfect golden brown of the bread.

"Well, what do you like to do?"

Spencer shrugs, because he's had this discussion before. "Play drums and cook."

"So, do that!"

"That's not offered as a major."

Brendon huffs in annoyance and playfully kicks Spencer in the ass from his perch on the cabinet. "I hate to break it to you, but drums are a musical instrument, you could get a music degree."

Spencer shrugs and flips the sandwiches again. He's thought of that before, he has, but music theory makes his eyes glaze over. He just likes to play, not think too much about it. And also, he's not going to say this outloud to Brendon, but he thinks a music degree is about as useful as no degree, so why bother.

"Or go to culinary school, and be a chef. You'd be an awesome chef," Brendon declares just as Spencer slides two perfectly grilled sandwiches out of the pan onto a plate. Brendon immediately picks up one of the sandwiches and takes a bite out of it, then immediately regrets it as the melted cheese burns his mouth. "Ow, ow, ow, hot."

Spencer grins and hands him a cold soda. "Idiot."

"Yeah, but it tastes awesome. See, you should be a chef." Brendon points at him exaggeratedly and looks smug.

"I've thought about it," Spencer says, grabbing his soda and the plate of sandwiches and heading back into the tv room. Brendon follows close behind him. He has thought about it, but his parents are really invested in him going to college and he doesn't know if he's passionate enough about food to disappoint them just yet. And that makes him feel kind of guilty when he thinks about what Brendon's been doing to stay in school and study what he loves. "I don't know. I have to declare a major or make a decision one way or another by the end of this year. We'll see."

"I think you should do what you love." Brendon flops down on the couch and reaches for his sandwich again as soon as Spencer sets it on the table. "Ooh," he says, pointing at the tv. "This is the one with the scorpions!"

Apparently, it's a Man vs. Wild marathon, and Spencer ends up spending most of the night watching the episodes with Brendon, alternately cringing and laughing and chatting during commercials. After Bear Grylls, they find some Futurama episodes and ending up quoting half of the dialog at each other. It turns out to be the most fun Spencer's had in a while. It is definitely way more fun than economics.

Spencer wakes up the next morning, twisted up on the couch, his legs tangled with Brendon's and one of Brendon's socked feet in his face. Amanda is standing over him in her yoga outfit and grinning.

"Shut up," he mutters and checks his watch. "Shit!" He extricates himself from Brendon and runs upstairs, ignoring Amanda's snicker. He's got a 9:00 class on the other side of campus and just enough time to shower, change and get there. When he comes back down, Brendon is gone from the couch but there's a little drawing of a chef hat on the chalk-board by the front door.

*

Chem lab requires his attention, but by the time he gets to his Psych 101 lecture, he knows he'll be better off in the back of the auditorium. He dozes through most of the class, even though Ryan pokes him in the ribs with his pen a couple of times. When Spencer glares at him, Ryan just gives him a knowing smirk and says only, "You seriously suck at this single thing."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Spencer answers, but of course he knows exactly what Ryan's talking about. Spencer is pretty sure it also means that the whole damn house is talking about him sleeping on the couch with Brendon. Which is bullshit really, since he's done the same thing with both Amanda and Greta, and he and Ryan shared a sleeping bag for three days on an ill-fated camping trip in high school. So whatever it is they think they know is total crap.

And the fact that Spencer ends up at the Smoothie Shack in the SUB after class doesn't mean anything other than Spencer needs some vitamin C. He pointedly refuses to acknowledge Ryan's laughter when they end up there.

Brendon, of course, is working and he greets them both enthusiastically when they approach. He already knows the flavor favorites of everyone in the house, and while he can't get away with giving away free smoothies, Spencer is sure that he adds more fruit to their orders every time than is strictly regulation. Brendon chats with Ryan about a band they'd seen the previous weekend with Amanda, one that Spencer had missed due to a class project meeting from hell, but he seems totally comfortable and not at all weirded out about falling asleep on a couch with Spencer. Spencer decides to stop being weird about it in his own head.

When the smoothie's are done, Brendon hands them over with a flourish and a grin. "Tropical for Spence, extra mango, and Berry Blast for Ryan, hold the raspberry."

Spencer takes a drink of his and grins back. "It's very tasty."

"For a spider!" Brendon answers, right on cue in a not-completely terrible impression of Bear Grylls, and they both crack up.

Ryan mutters, "oh good god," and wanders off to talk to one of his English Lit friends, who Spencer thinks is named Alex.

"Oh, hey," Brendon says, going back to rinsing out his blender. "I got free passes to that new Will Farrell movie for tomorrow night, you wanna go?"

"Yeah, sure." He does not look over at where Ryan is bent over some book with Alex and laughing, or at Brendon, but he does smile.

*

Somehow, the semester moves faster than Spencer expects and suddenly it's Thanksgiving. Much to his mom's annoyance, Spencer doesn't go home for the weekend, and instead gets put in charge of planning a Thanksgiving feast for the house. He gets a lot of help, but he puts the menu together and assigns the various dishes and he brines and cooks a turkey that comes out perfectly and even the vegetarians in the house ooh and ahh over it, even if they don't eat it. He feels pretty accomplished over the whole thing and after dinner, everyone demands that he stays out of the kitchen while they do all the cleaning, for which he has no complaint.

Later, he's sitting out on the back porch, smoking a joint with Joe and Joe's girlfriend, Marie, and watching Jon, Cassie and Brendon hang Christmas lights in the big tree. Brendon is climbing around in the tree like a Monkey, while Cassie and Jon pass strings of lights up to him.

"It's like watching the Three Stooges," Joe says, taking the joint Spencer passes to him. "Very entertaining."

"I just hope the day doesn't end with a trip to the emergency room."

"I don't know what your holidays are like back home, Smith, but it's not a Trohman holiday without a trip to the hospital."

Spencer snorts. "Clearly I've been doing it wrong."

It's been a weird semester and Spencer is feeling unsettled about a lot of things. Ryan suddenly has a new group of friends from the english lit department who share his sudden new passion for the Beat Poets and Spencer hardly sees him anymore, outside of house dinners and their one shared class. He spends most of his time with Alex and a girl who calls herself Z, who is also Ryan's new obsession. That's not really new, but it feels different this time. It's the first time since Spencer was six years old that Ryan is not at or near the center of Spencer's universe. Even Haley hadn't truly shifted that center. Instead, it's Brendon that Spencer spends most of his time with these days, not Ryan. It's Brendon that Spencer texts when he sees something funny, and it's Brendon that Spencer sits up with in the middle of the night and bitches about how much he hates school and it's Brendon that can quote all of Spencer's favorite tv shows and who he has a hundred different in-jokes with.

Brendon leaps down from the bottom few branches of the tree with a loud whoop and manages to stick the landing, eliciting golf claps from everyone else in the yard. He gives an extravagant bow to his audience and heads up to the porch, flopping down on the porch swing next to Spencer.

"Sharing is caring," he says, wiggling his fingers at the joint in Spencer's hand. When Spencer hands over the tiny stub that's left, Brendon pushes his bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. "Rude."

Joe gives a huge sigh and stands up. "I'll get some more," he says and heads over to the greenhouse for his stash.

"You're a prince among men, Joe Troh!" Brendon calls to him and then settles in comfortably next to Spencer, leaning up against him. Marie follows Joe across the yard and Spencer wonders if they'll actually see either of them again anytime soon.

Jon plugs in the lights and Cassie turns off the porch light and the yard is suddenly lit by white and red fairy lights, making it seem otherworldly.

"Awesome," Brendon whispers.

"Yeah," Spencer responds in a whisper, because it seems appropriate. He puts his arm across Brendon's shoulders, pulling him in closer, until Brendon has his head on Spencer's shoulder. They sit in silence for a while and watch Jon and Cassie waltz across the yard to the beat of music in their own heads.

"I was really sad when I got up this morning," Brendon says, out of the blue. "Thanksgiving is my mom's favorite holiday. Even more than Christmas. And all I could think of this morning was how much I wanted to be at home with them, but... Well, even if I could have come up with the money to go home, it wouldn't have been the same." He sighs and pushes closer into Spencer's side. "They're trying, you know. It's just, it won't ever be the same."

Spencer's quiet for a while, because he's not really sure how to respond. His family has never been anything but accepting and supportive of everything about Spencer. When he was a Senior in high school and told his mom that he was pretty sure he was bisexual, she'd hugged him and told him it was fine and come in the next day with a whole bunch of embarrassing brochures and condoms she'd picked up at a gay youth center. She'd been kind of hilariously perplexed when he brought Haley home last year, but she'd accepted her wholeheartedly and then let him cry over the phone to her when Haley broke up with him. He's even pretty sure that they'll be okay if he tells them that he wants to quit college and be a chef. They'll probably still pay for him to go to culinary school, too. Years of watching Ryan and his relationship with his father have made Spencer aware of just how lucky he is with his parents and sisters.

"It won't be the same, but maybe it will be better, eventually." Because even Ryan and his dad had started building a better, more adult relationship last year before he died.

"Yeah. Maybe." Brendon pushes the swing with his feet, setting them swinging. "Anyway, my point is, I was sad when I woke up, but then Amanda knocked on my door and demanded I come do yoga with her, and then you put me to work peeling potatoes, and Jon and Ryan made up a stupid song about your salty turkey, and the food was amazing, and I have had way too much wine, and right now the yard looks like some kind of demon fairy princess's garden, and somewhere in there I forgot to miss my family."

"That's the magic of Hellmouth Manor, dude."

Frank Sinatra starts to play from the door of the greenhouse and Joe and Marie come out, hand in hand, and start dancing under the tree with Jon and Cassie.

"Hey, slackers," Joe yells. "Get down here and join the party."

Brendon laughs, but then gets up and extends a hand to Spencer. "May I have this dance?"

Spencer mock-sighs, but takes the hand offered and follows Brendon down off the porch. Brendon lets him lead and they only step on each other's toes a few times. Somehow waltzing changes to attempted swing-dancing when a more uptempo song comes on and Spencer ends up laughing so hard that his sides hurt. And the thing is, it's ridiculously romantic and Brendon is grinning and singing along to Sinatra and his hand is a little sweaty and Spencer thinks, this would be the perfect time to kiss him. He thinks, I'm just going to do it. But he doesn't. He doesn't because there's music and laughter and he's buzzed from wine and weed and it feels unreal, fleeting. And whatever Ryan thinks, Spencer can do fleeting. He can do casual. But he doesn't want to.

Not with Brendon.

So he doesn't kiss him in the yard, under the lights. He waits. He waits until the next morning when he finds Brendon awake before everyone else, cutting into the leftover pecan pie, standing in the sunny kitchen in his pajama bottoms and high school chorus t-shirt that's been turned slightly pink in some washing mishap, barefoot and bed-headed. He steals a bite of pie and waits until Brendon laughs, and then he pushes him up against the counter and kisses him, morning breath and all.

And Brendon kisses him back. He wraps his arms around Spencer and pulls him closer and kisses him back with intent and enthusiasm. When he pulls away, Brendon says, "Dude. Dude, I've been wanting to do that for forever."

Spencer grins at him. "Why didn't you?"

"Because I am excellent at flirting and being ridiculous, but I suck at making any kind of serious move."

"That's okay," Spencer says, pulling Brendon back in for a hug and kissing him on the neck. "I think I'm pretty good at serious moves."

"Oh, baby," Brendon rumbles into Spencer's shoulder in a crappy Barry White-esque voice, "show me your moves."

And then they're both cracking up and soon they're fighting over the last few bites of pie and Spencer feels sure about at least one thing in his life. He figures that's good enough for a sunny Friday morning in November.