(no subject)
Author: Raven
Title: Little One
Rating: um. PG-13 and that only due to language.
Pairings: Spencer/Ryan, Shane/Brendon
Warnings: D/s, infantilism, serious cuteness in the shape of puppies, cuddles and birthday cakes, scary absence of sex in any shape or form
Disclaimer: so not true. Title by Elliott Smith.
A/N: Gah. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry. Another one of the Smith Chronicles, pretty much set in the present.
For the first time in what has been pretty much a life-long relationship, Spencer finds himself wondering if they’d be better off facing up to the fact they’re going nowhere. He tries to steer his brain away from the thought, fuck, he really does, but it keeps coming back. It might be better for both of them to go their separate ways, at least sexually. They could still be best friends. They could still be in the band. Each of them could find someone to fuck who is less complicated.
He doesn’t mention it, of course. He’s not ready to even let his mind go there, much less to make a decision or mention it to Ryan. Truth is, maybe he can’t give Ryan what he needs. Maybe he sucks at this. He’s not like Shane or Gabe. Maybe he’s just not cut out to be a top.
Ryan’s gone to Chicago to stay with Jon before the tour starts up again and Spencer hates to admit that it’s easier this way, but he’s pretty useless at lying to himself. It is easier like this. With Ryan on the other side of the country, Spencer can breathe.
For once, it’s not Shane calling him on it, it’s Brendon. Very Serious Brendon, no less. It’s not a version of Brendon he’s used to dealing with all that much, but when Brendon settles down on the couch asking if they can talk, it doesn’t even cross his mind to tell him to mind his own business.
Brendon loves Ryan. Brendon also loves Spencer, so this kinda is his business.
“Have you broken up?” Brendon all but whispers and he looks heart-broken at the possibility. Spencer doesn’t quite manage to shake his head, it turns into a shrug, into a quiet “Fuck if I know”, into trying to not burst into tears cause he really doesn’t know anymore. It’s not like there’s been a big fight or anything, it’s not like Ryan’s fucking around behind his back, it’s just…
“We’re. I just don’t know how to make him happy.” He sounds choked, but it’s Brendon who looks like he’s about to cry. “Spence. You’re. You’re his everything.”
And yeah, he’s crying now, fuck it. Cause he wants to be. He wants what Brendon and Shane have, the joint dog, the joint mortgage, the belief that whatever happens, they’re in it together. He wants happily ever after, good times and bad, sickness and health. He wants.
“Spence?” He wipes the useless tears off his face and shakes his head. “I… I used to make him happy, Bren. He’s miserable and I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve tried. So maybe…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence and he doesn’t have to. Brendon takes a deep breath and lights a cigarette.
“If you tell Shane about what I’m gonna tell you right now, I’m gonna be in more trouble then you’ll ever know, but…” he pauses for a moment, but he looks determined. “When we started out, I was kinda constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? I was sure he wouldn’t put up with me forever. He’d get tired of me and kick me out, just like my folks had.”
For the millionth time, Spencer is tempted to set fire to the Urie house, just for that look on Brendon’s face. Brendon gives him a tiny smile, apparently well aware what Spencer’s thinking. “Don’t, Spence. It all worked out, right?”
Spencer smiles back, even though it’s not exactly high wattage right now. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Anyway, point is, I pushed him away cause I was sure he couldn’t want me. I figured the sooner he realized that, the less it would hurt for both of us, so I behaved like a shit. He stayed.” Brendon still sounds amazed by that and Spencer raises an eyebrow at him. “Of course he did. You’re a pretty fucking amazing guy, Bren.”
Brendon blushes and looks down at his hands. “Cause he taught me how to be. Back then, I was drunk pretty much all day every day and… well, I basically also fucked everything that moved.”
Spencer opens his mouth in an O-sound, but nothing comes out. Brendon grins. “Yeah. I cheated, I lied, I did whatever it took to prove to him that I didn’t deserve him. And Ryan…” “…’s not fucking around,” Spencer interjects, realizing that his voice has dropped to something that almost sounds threatening. If Brendon tells him he’s wrong, he doesn’t even know what he’d do.
“No. He’s not,” Brendon agrees quickly. “But… he’s pushing pretty fucking hard, Spence.” Spencer doesn’t have anything to add to that. Fuck his friends for being right all the time.
“So… I was gonna… you can tell me to fuck off and mind my own business, but… I think I’ve got an idea.” At this point in the plot, Spencer would listen to suggestions given by anyone, including his own mother, so he just holds out his hands, palms up in surrender. “Shoot.”
“When’s the last time you’ve seen Ryan truly happy?” Brendon asks quietly, as though he already knows the answer.
“Yeah, try never?” Spencer scoffs. Cause it’s true. He’s seen Ryan content, for all of three and a half minutes in total, when they got signed, when the album went platinum, when Jon joined the band, when the second album wasn’t ripped to pieces by the critics. Happy’s different.
“So I guess it’s before you guys met. All you gotta do is take him back there.” Spencer processes this for a long moment. “Bren, we were five.” Brendon nods. Spencer processes some more. “You’re joking, right?” he tries, but Brendon shrugs. “It’s what Shane did. Pretty much. I mean, I would’ve been a bit older when I realized my life sucked, but still. I wasn’t even a teenager.”
Spencer buries his head in his hands and groans. “You’re not suggesting what I think you are suggesting, are you? Jesus Christ!” Brendon giggles and Spencer can’t not look up. Brendon grins at him. “Whatever it takes, man. Cause let’s face it, he’s yours.”
Shane comes in at precisely that moment, cause apparently Spencer’s life is a shitty movie script. He watches Brendon tackle his man in a hug that almost brings both of them down, he watches the deep kiss they share, oblivious to anything and everything around them. It’s a pretty convincing argument, but.
Eventually, Shane turns round to face him. “So, what are you kids up to?” he asks with a smirk, arms still around Brendon. “You really don’t wanna know,” Spencer mumbles while Brendon grins “I’m talking Spence into diapering Ryan,” and all three of them freeze for a moment before they collapse into laughter. Because, seriously. Ryan would kill him for even suggesting that.
Brendon knows this, of course. “Well, maybe not diapers, what with the anal retentive thing. But. Figure out something to take him back there, so he can reconnect to what he’s lost.” Shane holds onto him tightly and looks at Spencer over the top of Brendon’s head.
“I hate you for turning him into this person”, Spencer grumbles and Shane beams at him. “I didn’t. He just didn’t know how awesome he was, that’s all.” They kiss again and something in Spencer makes a decision. Spencer’s not a dreamer. Spencer has always been the guy to find something worth fighting for and then making it happen.
If Spencer’s going for happily ever after, he doesn’t expect it to be handed to him on a plate. He knows life doesn’t work that way. Still. “Ryan’s gonna freak the fuck out,” he tries but Brendon just nods against Shane’s chest. “Course he will. But you can handle it. Cause you’re Spencer.” He disentangles himself from Shane and jumps Spencer, kissing him fiercely. “Spencer,” he whispers over and over and coming out of Brendon’s mouth, his name sounds like a promise. Something people believe in. Shane just nods, once.
“You need anything, Spence, you know you can ask us. I’m pretty sure Brendon here’s a kick-ass play-date. Now, I’m off to get some groceries. I’m not dealing with Ryan’s hissy fits cause there aren’t at least fifteen kinds of cereal.” Which shouldn’t be an issue, seeing Ryan’s in Chicago.
Brendon stops with the kissing long enough to turn round and look at Shane. “Huh?” Shane shrugs. “Didn’t I tell you? I booked them a flight, they’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He searches Spencer’s eyes for a long moment. “He’s yours, Spence. He’s supposed to be here.” He doesn’t say anything else, just drags Brendon off to storm the next supermarket. Spencer might or might not be crying as he stares after them.
There are three phone-calls from them while they’re out food-hunting, the first from Brendon, asking if Spencer figures Ryan more of a building blocks or dolls kind of guy (building blocks, cause Ryan’s gay, but he still wouldn’t admit to a fetish for Barbie to save his life). The second is Brendon again, wondering if they should get a birthday cake or just the ingredients, “cause man, you know what I’m like in a kitchen” (Spencer does, but still tells him what to buy so he can make the cake from scratch, something he’s pretty sure Ryan’s mom wouldn’t ever have done).
The third time, it’s Shane and he can pretty much hear the exasperation through the line. “You owe me one, dude. Never again, I swear.” He pauses for a moment. “Spence, Brendon wants to buy him a puppy. I said we’d have to check with you first.” Spencer, at this point, gives up any and all semblance of resistance and just murmurs “Thanks” quietly, wondering if he was a saint or Ghandi in a past life to get stuck with friends like this.
He also can’t stop laughing when they come back and spend almost an hour unloading the car. Over the top doesn’t begin to cover it. By the time Brendon drags in what resembles a zoo of stuffed animals, he can hardly breathe. Shane just lets Brendon get on with arranging the zoo on the couch. They’ll have to sit on the floor from now on, but who even cares?
He exchanges a helpless grin with Shane at Brendon’s gleeful face. “Seriously, you guys, it’s a blessing ass-babies don’t actually exist. You’d single-handedly restore the American economy if you had a kid.” Shane giggles.
The puppy is tiny and adorable and he looks so much like Hobo that Spencer doesn’t even know what to say. Brendon watches his expression carefully. “I thought… Keltie kept him, so.” Spencer doesn’t say a word, just hugs Brendon forever. His voice would probably betray more of his feelings then he’s happy to share right now.
He spends the rest of the day puttering around the kitchen, with Brendon sitting on the floor, playing with Hobo’s baby twin and licking spoons and mixing bowls. Shane’s taking pictures and putting up party decorations. When they’re done, it looks like the kind of birthday bash Pete would probably throw for Bronx. Except for the fact that Ryan’s twenty-one and that it isn’t his birthday anytime soon, it’s pretty cool. Spencer also really fucking needs a smoke to get over the amount of glitter and garlands.
“I called Jon, by the way. He’s in on it,” Shane remarks offhandedly as they pass the joint back and forth and Spencer knows that it’s about time for a speech. In its entirety, it goes something like “You guys are bat-shit insane and fucking awesome”.
So is the party when Jon and Ryan arrive and if he’s honest, it’s down to Brendon that it actually works. Cause Brendon can do a kick-ass toddler impression, no two ways about it. Before Ryan’s even had time to run away, Brendon’s all over him, full-on excited six-year old. Ryan doesn’t even get to ask what the fuck’s going on before Brendon’s put a paper crown on his head and wished him happy birthday.
He looks at each of them in turn while Jon’s carefully stepping into the doorway behind him, ready to block his way in case he comes to enough to take off.
“What the…?” Brendon beams. “Your birthday, Ryry.” “It’s not even…” “Shh. Your birthday,” Brendon persists. “So, cake or presents first?” “Um.” “Presents”, Brendon decides and drags him off to the pile of gifts, pushing the largest one into his hands and settling down on the floor. “Open it, come on. I wanna see!”
Spencer wonders if Brendon’s actually on drugs or something, cause this amount of excitable just isn’t normal. Then again, Ryan’s starting to smile a little, so maybe normal doesn’t matter right now.
He unwraps present after present, building blocks, action figures, pretty much every Disney DVD ever, colouring books, the list goes on. Spencer just stands there and stares as Brendon coos and claps his hands and occasionally leans forward to kiss Ryan. When they’re done, Ryan looks like a toy-store exploded around him and the expression on his face isn’t something any of them have seen before.
“Why?” he chokes out, seriously failing at the practised monotone. Brendon just shakes his head impatiently as though Ryan’s a bit slow. “Cause it’s your birthday, Ry.” “But it’s not,” Ryan tries helplessly and Brendon rolls his eyes. “It should be. The world owes you twenty-one happy birthdays.” Ryan doesn’t argue.
“Oh, we got you something else. Shane, can I?” Brendon jumps up without waiting for an answer and opens the door to the study where they’d temporarily parked little Hobo the Second. The puppy doesn’t need anyone to explain, it makes straight for Ryan, jumps into his lap and licks all over his face.
Ryan’s shoulders are trembling ever so slightly, but he keeps his face buried in Hobo’s fur for a long time before looking up with wide eyes, searching Spencer’s face.
Spencer hopes he doesn’t fail at this as badly as he expects himself to and crouches down on the floor next to Ryan. “He’s yours. Happy birthday, little one.” When Ryan smiles and throws himself at him, Spencer falls in love all over again. He doesn’t even believe he was almost ready to give up on this, cause for fuck’s sake, this is Ryan. This is the guy he’s been in love with for over fifteen years. This is the person he promised to keep safe no matter what.
Then, there’s cake and it’s pretty fucking good if Spencer says so himself. There’s also a couple of joints, which probably isn’t exactly what conscientious parents would offer at their kid’s birthday party, but no one complains.
It’s barely eight o’clock when Shane looks back and forth between Brendon and Ryan, both of them on the floor, Hobo’s reincarnation running back and forth between them. “Bed-time,” he mumbles and two pairs of brown eyes stare up at him, pleading.
“But…” “BED.” Miracle of miracles, Ryan doesn’t tell him to fuck off, just looks at Spencer. “Tuck me in?” he asks quietly and Spencer nods, taking Ryan upstairs to the guest room, Hobo following on his heels. Spencer helps him undress and anything that’s said between them doesn’t need to be recorded for posterity, seriously. What matters is that Ryan’s lying there with a small smile on his lips, sticking his arms out from under the duvet for a good-night kiss and clinging to Spencer like his life depends on it.
“Spence. I can’t even. I… I love you?” It sounds like a question, like he isn’t sure he’s allowed. Spencer holds on just as tightly. “I love you, Ry.” There is a long pause before Ryan whispers “Why?” and Spencer wants nothing more right now then travel back in time and kick Ryan’s parents’ asses for planting that doubt in his boy, for taking away the belief that he deserves being loved. He pushes Ryan away gently so they can look at each other, cause Ryan needs to see that he means every word he’s about to say.
“Cause you’re you. Cause I’ve loved you every single second of the last fifteen years. Ry, there’s nothing you could ever do that would make me stop loving you.” Ryan doesn’t reply, he just gives a small nod. Spencer knows he needs time to process this, but Spencer also knows he’ll wait until it sinks in. He sits with Ryan until he falls asleep, little Hobo curled up on the duvet, which is probably a shit idea since the puppy isn’t housetrained yet, but he doesn’t even care.
When he comes back downstairs, Shane and Jon are there with more cake, more hugs, more affirmations, cause they know Ryan’s not the only one who doubts. He sits on the couch, fighting for space amongst the stuffed animals and wonders if this is what the beginning of happily ever after looks like.
Title: Little One
Rating: um. PG-13 and that only due to language.
Pairings: Spencer/Ryan, Shane/Brendon
Warnings: D/s, infantilism, serious cuteness in the shape of puppies, cuddles and birthday cakes, scary absence of sex in any shape or form
Disclaimer: so not true. Title by Elliott Smith.
A/N: Gah. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry. Another one of the Smith Chronicles, pretty much set in the present.
For the first time in what has been pretty much a life-long relationship, Spencer finds himself wondering if they’d be better off facing up to the fact they’re going nowhere. He tries to steer his brain away from the thought, fuck, he really does, but it keeps coming back. It might be better for both of them to go their separate ways, at least sexually. They could still be best friends. They could still be in the band. Each of them could find someone to fuck who is less complicated.
He doesn’t mention it, of course. He’s not ready to even let his mind go there, much less to make a decision or mention it to Ryan. Truth is, maybe he can’t give Ryan what he needs. Maybe he sucks at this. He’s not like Shane or Gabe. Maybe he’s just not cut out to be a top.
Ryan’s gone to Chicago to stay with Jon before the tour starts up again and Spencer hates to admit that it’s easier this way, but he’s pretty useless at lying to himself. It is easier like this. With Ryan on the other side of the country, Spencer can breathe.
For once, it’s not Shane calling him on it, it’s Brendon. Very Serious Brendon, no less. It’s not a version of Brendon he’s used to dealing with all that much, but when Brendon settles down on the couch asking if they can talk, it doesn’t even cross his mind to tell him to mind his own business.
Brendon loves Ryan. Brendon also loves Spencer, so this kinda is his business.
“Have you broken up?” Brendon all but whispers and he looks heart-broken at the possibility. Spencer doesn’t quite manage to shake his head, it turns into a shrug, into a quiet “Fuck if I know”, into trying to not burst into tears cause he really doesn’t know anymore. It’s not like there’s been a big fight or anything, it’s not like Ryan’s fucking around behind his back, it’s just…
“We’re. I just don’t know how to make him happy.” He sounds choked, but it’s Brendon who looks like he’s about to cry. “Spence. You’re. You’re his everything.”
And yeah, he’s crying now, fuck it. Cause he wants to be. He wants what Brendon and Shane have, the joint dog, the joint mortgage, the belief that whatever happens, they’re in it together. He wants happily ever after, good times and bad, sickness and health. He wants.
“Spence?” He wipes the useless tears off his face and shakes his head. “I… I used to make him happy, Bren. He’s miserable and I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve tried. So maybe…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence and he doesn’t have to. Brendon takes a deep breath and lights a cigarette.
“If you tell Shane about what I’m gonna tell you right now, I’m gonna be in more trouble then you’ll ever know, but…” he pauses for a moment, but he looks determined. “When we started out, I was kinda constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? I was sure he wouldn’t put up with me forever. He’d get tired of me and kick me out, just like my folks had.”
For the millionth time, Spencer is tempted to set fire to the Urie house, just for that look on Brendon’s face. Brendon gives him a tiny smile, apparently well aware what Spencer’s thinking. “Don’t, Spence. It all worked out, right?”
Spencer smiles back, even though it’s not exactly high wattage right now. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Anyway, point is, I pushed him away cause I was sure he couldn’t want me. I figured the sooner he realized that, the less it would hurt for both of us, so I behaved like a shit. He stayed.” Brendon still sounds amazed by that and Spencer raises an eyebrow at him. “Of course he did. You’re a pretty fucking amazing guy, Bren.”
Brendon blushes and looks down at his hands. “Cause he taught me how to be. Back then, I was drunk pretty much all day every day and… well, I basically also fucked everything that moved.”
Spencer opens his mouth in an O-sound, but nothing comes out. Brendon grins. “Yeah. I cheated, I lied, I did whatever it took to prove to him that I didn’t deserve him. And Ryan…” “…’s not fucking around,” Spencer interjects, realizing that his voice has dropped to something that almost sounds threatening. If Brendon tells him he’s wrong, he doesn’t even know what he’d do.
“No. He’s not,” Brendon agrees quickly. “But… he’s pushing pretty fucking hard, Spence.” Spencer doesn’t have anything to add to that. Fuck his friends for being right all the time.
“So… I was gonna… you can tell me to fuck off and mind my own business, but… I think I’ve got an idea.” At this point in the plot, Spencer would listen to suggestions given by anyone, including his own mother, so he just holds out his hands, palms up in surrender. “Shoot.”
“When’s the last time you’ve seen Ryan truly happy?” Brendon asks quietly, as though he already knows the answer.
“Yeah, try never?” Spencer scoffs. Cause it’s true. He’s seen Ryan content, for all of three and a half minutes in total, when they got signed, when the album went platinum, when Jon joined the band, when the second album wasn’t ripped to pieces by the critics. Happy’s different.
“So I guess it’s before you guys met. All you gotta do is take him back there.” Spencer processes this for a long moment. “Bren, we were five.” Brendon nods. Spencer processes some more. “You’re joking, right?” he tries, but Brendon shrugs. “It’s what Shane did. Pretty much. I mean, I would’ve been a bit older when I realized my life sucked, but still. I wasn’t even a teenager.”
Spencer buries his head in his hands and groans. “You’re not suggesting what I think you are suggesting, are you? Jesus Christ!” Brendon giggles and Spencer can’t not look up. Brendon grins at him. “Whatever it takes, man. Cause let’s face it, he’s yours.”
Shane comes in at precisely that moment, cause apparently Spencer’s life is a shitty movie script. He watches Brendon tackle his man in a hug that almost brings both of them down, he watches the deep kiss they share, oblivious to anything and everything around them. It’s a pretty convincing argument, but.
Eventually, Shane turns round to face him. “So, what are you kids up to?” he asks with a smirk, arms still around Brendon. “You really don’t wanna know,” Spencer mumbles while Brendon grins “I’m talking Spence into diapering Ryan,” and all three of them freeze for a moment before they collapse into laughter. Because, seriously. Ryan would kill him for even suggesting that.
Brendon knows this, of course. “Well, maybe not diapers, what with the anal retentive thing. But. Figure out something to take him back there, so he can reconnect to what he’s lost.” Shane holds onto him tightly and looks at Spencer over the top of Brendon’s head.
“I hate you for turning him into this person”, Spencer grumbles and Shane beams at him. “I didn’t. He just didn’t know how awesome he was, that’s all.” They kiss again and something in Spencer makes a decision. Spencer’s not a dreamer. Spencer has always been the guy to find something worth fighting for and then making it happen.
If Spencer’s going for happily ever after, he doesn’t expect it to be handed to him on a plate. He knows life doesn’t work that way. Still. “Ryan’s gonna freak the fuck out,” he tries but Brendon just nods against Shane’s chest. “Course he will. But you can handle it. Cause you’re Spencer.” He disentangles himself from Shane and jumps Spencer, kissing him fiercely. “Spencer,” he whispers over and over and coming out of Brendon’s mouth, his name sounds like a promise. Something people believe in. Shane just nods, once.
“You need anything, Spence, you know you can ask us. I’m pretty sure Brendon here’s a kick-ass play-date. Now, I’m off to get some groceries. I’m not dealing with Ryan’s hissy fits cause there aren’t at least fifteen kinds of cereal.” Which shouldn’t be an issue, seeing Ryan’s in Chicago.
Brendon stops with the kissing long enough to turn round and look at Shane. “Huh?” Shane shrugs. “Didn’t I tell you? I booked them a flight, they’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He searches Spencer’s eyes for a long moment. “He’s yours, Spence. He’s supposed to be here.” He doesn’t say anything else, just drags Brendon off to storm the next supermarket. Spencer might or might not be crying as he stares after them.
There are three phone-calls from them while they’re out food-hunting, the first from Brendon, asking if Spencer figures Ryan more of a building blocks or dolls kind of guy (building blocks, cause Ryan’s gay, but he still wouldn’t admit to a fetish for Barbie to save his life). The second is Brendon again, wondering if they should get a birthday cake or just the ingredients, “cause man, you know what I’m like in a kitchen” (Spencer does, but still tells him what to buy so he can make the cake from scratch, something he’s pretty sure Ryan’s mom wouldn’t ever have done).
The third time, it’s Shane and he can pretty much hear the exasperation through the line. “You owe me one, dude. Never again, I swear.” He pauses for a moment. “Spence, Brendon wants to buy him a puppy. I said we’d have to check with you first.” Spencer, at this point, gives up any and all semblance of resistance and just murmurs “Thanks” quietly, wondering if he was a saint or Ghandi in a past life to get stuck with friends like this.
He also can’t stop laughing when they come back and spend almost an hour unloading the car. Over the top doesn’t begin to cover it. By the time Brendon drags in what resembles a zoo of stuffed animals, he can hardly breathe. Shane just lets Brendon get on with arranging the zoo on the couch. They’ll have to sit on the floor from now on, but who even cares?
He exchanges a helpless grin with Shane at Brendon’s gleeful face. “Seriously, you guys, it’s a blessing ass-babies don’t actually exist. You’d single-handedly restore the American economy if you had a kid.” Shane giggles.
The puppy is tiny and adorable and he looks so much like Hobo that Spencer doesn’t even know what to say. Brendon watches his expression carefully. “I thought… Keltie kept him, so.” Spencer doesn’t say a word, just hugs Brendon forever. His voice would probably betray more of his feelings then he’s happy to share right now.
He spends the rest of the day puttering around the kitchen, with Brendon sitting on the floor, playing with Hobo’s baby twin and licking spoons and mixing bowls. Shane’s taking pictures and putting up party decorations. When they’re done, it looks like the kind of birthday bash Pete would probably throw for Bronx. Except for the fact that Ryan’s twenty-one and that it isn’t his birthday anytime soon, it’s pretty cool. Spencer also really fucking needs a smoke to get over the amount of glitter and garlands.
“I called Jon, by the way. He’s in on it,” Shane remarks offhandedly as they pass the joint back and forth and Spencer knows that it’s about time for a speech. In its entirety, it goes something like “You guys are bat-shit insane and fucking awesome”.
So is the party when Jon and Ryan arrive and if he’s honest, it’s down to Brendon that it actually works. Cause Brendon can do a kick-ass toddler impression, no two ways about it. Before Ryan’s even had time to run away, Brendon’s all over him, full-on excited six-year old. Ryan doesn’t even get to ask what the fuck’s going on before Brendon’s put a paper crown on his head and wished him happy birthday.
He looks at each of them in turn while Jon’s carefully stepping into the doorway behind him, ready to block his way in case he comes to enough to take off.
“What the…?” Brendon beams. “Your birthday, Ryry.” “It’s not even…” “Shh. Your birthday,” Brendon persists. “So, cake or presents first?” “Um.” “Presents”, Brendon decides and drags him off to the pile of gifts, pushing the largest one into his hands and settling down on the floor. “Open it, come on. I wanna see!”
Spencer wonders if Brendon’s actually on drugs or something, cause this amount of excitable just isn’t normal. Then again, Ryan’s starting to smile a little, so maybe normal doesn’t matter right now.
He unwraps present after present, building blocks, action figures, pretty much every Disney DVD ever, colouring books, the list goes on. Spencer just stands there and stares as Brendon coos and claps his hands and occasionally leans forward to kiss Ryan. When they’re done, Ryan looks like a toy-store exploded around him and the expression on his face isn’t something any of them have seen before.
“Why?” he chokes out, seriously failing at the practised monotone. Brendon just shakes his head impatiently as though Ryan’s a bit slow. “Cause it’s your birthday, Ry.” “But it’s not,” Ryan tries helplessly and Brendon rolls his eyes. “It should be. The world owes you twenty-one happy birthdays.” Ryan doesn’t argue.
“Oh, we got you something else. Shane, can I?” Brendon jumps up without waiting for an answer and opens the door to the study where they’d temporarily parked little Hobo the Second. The puppy doesn’t need anyone to explain, it makes straight for Ryan, jumps into his lap and licks all over his face.
Ryan’s shoulders are trembling ever so slightly, but he keeps his face buried in Hobo’s fur for a long time before looking up with wide eyes, searching Spencer’s face.
Spencer hopes he doesn’t fail at this as badly as he expects himself to and crouches down on the floor next to Ryan. “He’s yours. Happy birthday, little one.” When Ryan smiles and throws himself at him, Spencer falls in love all over again. He doesn’t even believe he was almost ready to give up on this, cause for fuck’s sake, this is Ryan. This is the guy he’s been in love with for over fifteen years. This is the person he promised to keep safe no matter what.
Then, there’s cake and it’s pretty fucking good if Spencer says so himself. There’s also a couple of joints, which probably isn’t exactly what conscientious parents would offer at their kid’s birthday party, but no one complains.
It’s barely eight o’clock when Shane looks back and forth between Brendon and Ryan, both of them on the floor, Hobo’s reincarnation running back and forth between them. “Bed-time,” he mumbles and two pairs of brown eyes stare up at him, pleading.
“But…” “BED.” Miracle of miracles, Ryan doesn’t tell him to fuck off, just looks at Spencer. “Tuck me in?” he asks quietly and Spencer nods, taking Ryan upstairs to the guest room, Hobo following on his heels. Spencer helps him undress and anything that’s said between them doesn’t need to be recorded for posterity, seriously. What matters is that Ryan’s lying there with a small smile on his lips, sticking his arms out from under the duvet for a good-night kiss and clinging to Spencer like his life depends on it.
“Spence. I can’t even. I… I love you?” It sounds like a question, like he isn’t sure he’s allowed. Spencer holds on just as tightly. “I love you, Ry.” There is a long pause before Ryan whispers “Why?” and Spencer wants nothing more right now then travel back in time and kick Ryan’s parents’ asses for planting that doubt in his boy, for taking away the belief that he deserves being loved. He pushes Ryan away gently so they can look at each other, cause Ryan needs to see that he means every word he’s about to say.
“Cause you’re you. Cause I’ve loved you every single second of the last fifteen years. Ry, there’s nothing you could ever do that would make me stop loving you.” Ryan doesn’t reply, he just gives a small nod. Spencer knows he needs time to process this, but Spencer also knows he’ll wait until it sinks in. He sits with Ryan until he falls asleep, little Hobo curled up on the duvet, which is probably a shit idea since the puppy isn’t housetrained yet, but he doesn’t even care.
When he comes back downstairs, Shane and Jon are there with more cake, more hugs, more affirmations, cause they know Ryan’s not the only one who doubts. He sits on the couch, fighting for space amongst the stuffed animals and wonders if this is what the beginning of happily ever after looks like.