The Science Of Selling Yourself Short | Spencer Smith/Jon Walker | 11,167 Words
part one
*
Spencer doesn’t sleep very well that night, and in the morning he’s the first person awake, grabbing his overnight bag and heading into the washroom to change, wincing all the way there. Usually, he’s the type of person to stay in his PJ’s as long as humanly possible, but the dried come in his pants is only becoming more uncomfortable.
When Spencer pulls down his pants, his eyes just manage to catch a small spot of blood on the back. He stares down at it, horrified, and suddenly, he feels the overwhelming urge to start crying. He chokes it back though, bunching his pants up in a ball before shoving them into his backpack.
He decides on a shower, figuring the thin layer of come won’t come off without one and he probably just reeks, so he turns the shower on full blast, until thick steam is filling the room. He takes longer than normal, letting the hot water fall down on him, the events of last night replaying through his brain. By the end, he’s half-hard and guilty.
He doesn’t regret it - he doesn’t. It was great, and Spencer couldn’t have asked for anything better. It’s not like Jon’s a stranger, he’s known him forever, and that’s good enough, isn’t it? It’s not like he was expecting his first time to be on a bed of roses with scented candles.
It takes Spencer longer than usual to get ready, the process of pulling on his jeans excruciating with his aching ass. He even has to stop and take a break for a second or two, and god, it didn’t even hurt this much when there was an actual dick up there.
When Spencer gets back to the main area, Brendon is up, sitting on the couch with the television on low. He looks up, eyes sweeping over Spencer briefly before turning back to the TV, and there is no doubt in his mind that he has some serious explaining to do. He throws his bag back where he had got it, and heads over to the couch, taking a careful seat next to Brendon. He flinches, pain shooting all the way up his body. He wonders how long this will go on for.
“You had sex with him, didn’t you?” Brendon deadpans, keeping his attention on the TV. Brendon, he really knows how to get to the point.
Spencer feels his cheeks flush as he mumbles, attempting to feign innocence even though he knows there’s no point, “Who?”
Brendon turns to stare at him, not amused. “You know who, Spencer.”
Spencer looks away, cheeks growing hotter.
“Oh my god,” Brendon hisses. “You did.”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Spencer mumbles, keeping his eyes glued to the flowered pattern on the throw pillow pressed against his hip.
“Not that big of a deal?” Brendon repeats incredulously. Spencer shrugs. “He was your first time, Spencer. I’d say that’s a pretty big deal.”
“Coming from a guy who lost it while drunk in a washroom with a guy he barely knew for a week,” he mutters, and as soon as he does, he immediately regrets it. He turns to face Brendon, eyes wide as he goes to open his mouth and start apologizing, a look of hurt spreading across Brendon’s face.
Brendon cuts him off before he has a chance to say anything, breathing out sharply through his mouth. “Yeah,” he retorts, “and I regret that everyday of my life. You don’t know how much I wish I would’ve just waited; that Shane could’ve been my first time. I don’t want that happening to you.”
“Well,” Spencer starts, shifting uncomfortably, guilt swirling in his brain, “there’s nothing I can do now, is there? Plus, how do you know he doesn’t like me?” He swallows, hearing the doubt thick and clear even in his own voice.
“Yeah, and that’s what I thought about Travis, and look how that turned out,” he replies, saddened expression deepening. Spencer knows, has all along, that Travis is a sensitive subject; Brendon had spent weeks after holed up in his room, barely speaking to anyone, not even Spencer. But the thing is, Spencer had been upset too; it had taken everything in him not to lash out on Brendon when he found out, that he would give it up to a guy he barely knew but for some reason, Spencer was never good enough. “I didn’t hear from him again.”
“Yeah, well,” he starts pathetically, “Jon’s not him.”
“I hope so.” There’s a long pause, and Spencer keeps his eyes trained on his knee, running his finger up and down the denim. “Did he know at least?” Brendon asks.
“Know what?”
“That you were a virgin.”
Spencer twitches, taking his lip between his teeth, and says nothing.
“Spencer!” he hisses. “You didn’t tell him?!”
“Look, Bren, I told you,” Spencer says, exasperated, looking up to meet his eye, “I don’t care, okay? I don’t have some big value on my virginity. Plus, I mean, whatever, I’ve had a crush on Jon for years. I’ve known him since I was a kid, it’s not like he’s some stranger. It wasn’t like I didn’t want it, or like I’m regretting it now, okay? It’s really no big deal, you’re just making it into more than it is.”
Brendon runs his eyes over Spencer’s, calculating, then mumbles, “You should’ve at least told him.”
“Oh my god,” Spencer groans, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling, “this conversation is over.” He looks back at Brendon, eye to eye. “And don’t you dare breathe a word of this to Brent or Ryan either, or you’re dead, Urie,” he threatens.
Brendon rolls his eyes, and turns back to the TV, turning the volume up a few more notches. Spencer knows he won’t.
*
Spencer’s rinsing his bowl at the sink, while the other three are still chowing down on their Lucky Charms, when Jon comes sauntering into the kitchen, sweatpants hung loose on his hips and hair a mess.
Jon goes straight for him, not bothering with any greetings to the rest, and leans against the counter beside him. “Hey.” He smiles, breath warm against his cheek.
Spencer looks up, heart skipping a beat in his chest. “Hi.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” he replies, rinsing his bowl for the third time over. “You?”
He raises an eyebrow, curious. “Just okay?”
Spencer laughs, ducking his head as the blush spreads across his cheeks. “I’m good,” he corrects.
“That’s good,” Jon says, smiling wider, and Spencer finds himself mirroring his expression, brain slowly turning to mush. “Look, about last night…” he starts, smile fading as he shoves his hands into his pockets. Spencer feels his heart drop, and immediately goes back to staring at his bowl.
Before Jon has a chance to finish his sentence, Brent comes pushing his way between them, shoving Jon out of the way. “Fuck off, homo,” he snaps. “Can’t you go and hit on your own friends?”
Jon smirks, eying Spencer. “I could…”
“Then do it,” Brent replies, dropping his bowl into the sink with a clang. “Come on, Spin,” he says, turning to him as he nods to Brendon and Ryan, who are standing up with their own empty bowls in hand, “we’re leaving right away.”
Spencer swallows, and looks up, meeting Jon’s gaze long enough to send him a small, apologetic smile. “Bye,” he mumbles as he follows behind Brent.
“See ya,” Jon replies, voice distant.
Spencer pretends he doesn’t see the look Brendon sends him when he passes by.
*
Spencer avoids Brent’s house like the plague after that. He’s not miserable like Brendon was after the whole Travis fiasco, but he’s not the best he’s ever been either. He still doesn’t regret it, per se, at least not all of him. There are still parts of him that are pleased he had lost his virginity with someone as hot as Jon, and that it was good as it was too. Maybe it was just sex to Jon, he’s just his brother’s little friend willing to put out, and that’s okay. Really.
Okay, so, maybe a part of Spencer also wants to curl up in a ball and weep whenever he thinks about that part, but he’ll get over it, move on. Eventually.
It’s been a week of managing not to step foot into Brent’s house (the excuses as to why he can’t go for band practice adding up, until it’s nearly impossible to think of another) when Brendon comes storming into his room, demanding, “Okay, Spencer, this is enough. You can’t avoid Jon forever.”
“No, you were right,” Spencer mumbles distracted as he blows a guy up on WOW. “Jon doesn’t like me, and he doesn’t want to see me and I don’t want to see him either.”
“You don’t know that,” he points out. “You haven’t even talked to him.”
“Yes, I did,” Spencer mumbles.
“What the morning after?” he asks. “For two seconds?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Spencer!” he cries in frustration, pressing the off button on his computer screen. “Listen to me!”
“Holy fuck!” he snaps, staring at the black computer screen in horror. Chances are he’s dead already, so there’s no point in even trying to turn it back on. “I was listening, you asshole! I’m dead now, thanks to you.”
Brendon stares at him, deadpanned. “I don’t really care.” Spencer huffs, rolling his eyes. “Now, why do you think he doesn’t like you?”
“Because he was about to tell me it was just sex before Brent’s fat ass came barging in.”
“Oh yeah?” Brendon asks, doubtfully. “And how do you know that?”
“Because he was like, ‘ooh, about last night’ all slow and regretful and just like, obvious,” he explains, kicking his foot against the ground.
“Don’t make assumptions. You don’t know until you at least try to talk to him.”
“No,” Spencer refuses, shaking his head vehemently, “it’s not going to happen.”
“Spence…”
“Drop it, Brendon,” he hisses. He looks up to meet his eyes, giving him a heavy stare. “I mean it.”
Brendon sighs, shoulders slumping. “Fine. Look, at least come to Brent’s now. We need to have a band practice, and I called before I came over, asking if Jon was going to be there, and he’s not. He’s at work until five.”
Spencer raises an eyebrow, hesitant. “Promise?”
“Would I ever lie to you?” Brendon replies, matter-of-factly.
Spencer sighs again, and shrugs. “Fine, I guess not.”
Brendon smiles triumphantly, starting towards the door and Spencer knows he has no choice but to follow grudgingly behind. “I hate you,” he mutters after him.
“No,” Brendon smiles, “you don’t.”
Spencer scowls, because he’s right; he couldn’t even if he tried.
*
A half an hour into band practice, Spencer excuses himself to the washroom. He spends the least amount of time possible in there, remembering the last time, when he discovered the stain in his PJ pants (he threw those out, by the way).
When he opens the bathroom door, the last thing he expects is to be met with Jon’s face. He jumps in surprise, letting out a curse or two in the process, and Jon chuckles. “Sorry.”
Spencer wraps his arms around his chest, cheeks heating. He’s going to kill Brendon; he was never good for anything, anyway. “Hi,” he mumbles.
Jon smiles warmly. “Hi,” he echoes. He leans against the doorframe, hip jutted out, blocking Spencer from any exit. “So, um, I haven’t seen you around in awhile.”
Spencer shifts his eyes away, away from Jon’s questioning eyes, feeling his left arm start to twitch just the slightest. “Um, yeah,” he mumbles, “I’ve been busy…”
Jon looks at him, seemingly unconvinced. He wait’s a moment, eyes sweeping over Spencer’s features before softly saying, “I wish you would’ve told me.”
“Told you what?” Spencer coughs, picking at his sleeve.
“That it was your first time.”
“How do you know?” he squeaks, throat tightening.
“Your friend told me, um - ” he stops, looking up at the ceiling in thought.
“Brendon?” he offers.
He nods, chewing on his bottom lip. He catches Spencer’s eyes just briefly before he’s looking away again, ashamed. “I mean, I kind of had a feeling you were, you know, during, but… I wasn’t sure. I should’ve asked. I feel like a jackass.”
“No, don’t,” Spencer insists quickly. “It’s really no big deal, really. Brendon likes to over-dramatize things. I don’t regret it or anything, so, like. Really, it’s okay.”
“You still should’ve told me,” he murmurs under his breath, eyes dropping to the floor.
“Why?” Spencer asks, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean, like, what difference would it have made?”
“Well, for one thing, I would’ve been more careful,” he replies. He shakes his head, and says, “Actually, no, I would’ve stopped us.”
“You were careful enough,” Spencer insists. “And I didn’t want you to stop us. I wanted to do it. That’s why I didn’t tell you, because I thought you might’ve.”
“Spencer,” he moans, running his palms over his face in frustration, “your first time shouldn’t have been with your best friend’s brother - ”
“Brent’s not my best friend,” he points out rapidly. “He’s barely even my friend.” Okay, so, maybe he’s lying. As much as he hates to admit it sometimes, Brent is his friend - but if it makes any difference, Jon doesn’t need to know that.
Jon sends him a disbelieving look.
Spencer sighs, defeated.
“Anyways,” Jon continues, “your first time shouldn’t have been with your friend’s older brother while trying to keep quiet so your friends or my parents didn’t wake up. It should’ve at least been with someone who knew. I mean, you barely know me, and you just - you gave me your fucking virginity without me even knowing. I probably would have never found out if it wasn’t for your friend.”
“I know you,” is all Spencer can find in himself to say.
“Yeah, on a basic level, but that’s about it,” he replies. “You know my name, my family and that I play bass occasionally. What else do you really know?”
“I know that your favorite food is spaghetti, and that you have a teeny tiny, adorable lisp that gets stronger when you’re angry,” he points out, matter-of-factly. “I know a lot of things.”
Jon sighs, dejected. “Spencer…”
“Jon,” he replies, voice stern as he looks in straight in the eye, “it’s no big deal, okay? I mean it, and it shouldn’t be to you either. I understand that it was just sex, and you don’t have to worry about me following - ”
“Just sex?” Jon repeats, eyebrow raised in shock. “Is that what you think?”
“Well,” Spencer shifts uncomfortably, “isn’t that what you were going to say before?”
“What?” Jon says, bewildered. “No. I don’t just have sex with anyone, Spencer. See, that just proves how much you don’t know me.”
Spencer stares back at him, just as confused. “So… what does it mean then?”
Jon moves closer, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. “It means that I like you,” he replies smugly. “It means that it wasn’t ‘just sex’.”
“You like me?” Spencer repeats, deadpanned.
Jon laughs, and nods. “Don’t look so surprised. You are the one I’ve been flirting with consistently for the past several months, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but I thought - ”
Jon leans in even closer now, hot breath staining his lips. “Well, you thought wrong.” He closes the last few inches between them, pressing their lips firmly together, and Spencer all but falls over from the impact. He grips onto Jon’s biceps, and somehow, manages to kiss him back, deepening it by running the tip of his tongue along the outline of Jon’s lips. Jon pulls away, smiling, and says, “I was thinking maybe we could do this the right way this time. Maybe I could like - I don’t know, bring you on a date or something?”
Spencer lets out an embarrassingly girlish giggle, and raises an eyebrow as he says, incredulously, “A date?”
Jon nods, smiling, hand sliding down to circle around Spencer’s wrist. “Yeah,” he confirms.
“Okay…” Spencer says, cheeks pink. “But, only if you want to.”
“I do,” he replies, leaning forward to take Spencer’s lip in between his. He moves closer, sliding his hands down to Jon’s waist, tugging him closer as he slips his tongue between his lips. Okay, so, maybe he’ll keep Brendon alive for a little bit longer.
Spencer pulls apart, chuckling softly. “Brent’s going to be pissed,” he murmurs into Jon’s lips.
He laughs, tightening his group around Spencer’s hip as he says, “Fuck ‘em.”