White Tea and Ginger (This is How My Body Works, Baby) | Spencer Smith/Jon Walker | Part 3/3
part one | part two
Spencer agrees to let Jon pick him up after school, with the soul intention of ending whatever it was they had going on and nothing else.
He spent the entire day reciting exactly what it was he was planning to say to Jon, only taking a break when his mind decided to drift off, reliving the feeling of Jon’s lips against his, the touch of his fingers against his skin. It only lasted a moment though, maybe two, before he was quickly stopping himself as he cursed, forcing the image of his sister crying on her bed back into his mind, sweeping away the ones of Jon.
Reagan might already hate him, but at least this way, there’s still the possibility of her forgiving him one day soon. Whereas, he knows, if he continues to see Jon, she would not. Maybe not ever.
Spencer’s barely got himself seated in Jon’s little, red Toyota, when he leans over, ready to greet him with a kiss. Spencer jerks away just in time, causing Jon’s lips to catch the skin just above his jaw. Even just the subtle graze is enough to leave Spencer’s skin buzzing, and he’s instantly grateful he turned away, because if he started he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop.
Jon pulls back, eyes searching his, eyes knitted together in confusion.
Spencer slides his gaze away, out the window, and replays the image of his sister with tears streaming down her cheeks over and over again. “Can we go somewhere? To talk?”
Jon bites his lip, but gives a slow nod of his head. He pulls out of the school parking lot, where a few students still mill about, and heads down the street to an empty parking lot that looks out onto the river.
Spencer swallows, because it’s common knowledge in his school - even to someone like Spencer who has not quite gotten the chance himself - that this where everyone goes to fool around in their cars during lunch hour if nowhere else is available. Spencer picks at the denim starting to unravel at his knee, until the microscopic hole grows larger, to almost the size of a dime. “Look, Jon, we cant do this,” he says.
He feels Jon stare at him, the look of confusion growing deeper into the lines of his forehead, but Spencer doesn’t dare look up to meet his eyes. “What? Why?”
“Because,” he explains with a sigh, “I told Reagan what happened. With us. I told her almost everything, and. I was right, okay? She hates me. Of course she does, how could you ever think that she’d be okay with the fact that her boyfriend dumped her for her little brother.”
“Spencer…”
He shakes his head, and slowly, looks up to meet his eye, just briefly before turning to stare off at the river below. “Jon,” he replies, voice steady as he can manage, “I cant. She’s my sister. I cant do that to her.”
Jon lets out a long breath and rubs at the skin just above his eyebrow. “But - ” he starts, then shakes his head, adams apple bobbing as he swallows.
Jon lets out a long breath and rubs at the skin just above his eyebrow. “But - ” he starts, then shakes his head, Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. “Look, Spencer. I understand, okay? She’s your sister and I know you don’t want to hurt her, but. There’s something between us. I felt it the day I walked into your work and saw you, and I know you feel it too. I’ve never had that before, where I felt something so strong by just looking at someone, and I mean - it didn’t go away once I got to know you, even though I was with your sister. It just - it grew, and you can try to deny it all you want, but I know you feel it too. It’s too - strong for only me to feel it. I don’t want that to just get wasted. I cant - fuck.”
Spencer closes his eyes, and counts to ten, attempting even breaths through his nose. Carefully, he says, voice croaking, “Jon, please, don’t do this. If the situation was different then - then, yeah. But - but it’s not. You were with my sister. If you really felt that way the first time you saw me you would’ve done something, you wouldn’t have gotten a girlfriend.”
Jon sighs, and leans forward, pressing his face against the steering wheel.
“You have to understand where I’m coming from,” Spencer says softly. “I like you, I really do, and this - this never happens to me. I want it, so bad, but in reality, Reagan is my sister. My flesh and blood. She’s always been there for me, and I love her. I cant throw that away for something that’s only temporary.”
“Temporary?” he repeats, voice muffled into the leather of the steering wheel.
“You know what I mean,” he answers helplessly.
He shrugs, and says nothing else.
“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment, voice choked. Maybe he shouldn’t be saying sorry, maybe that’s Jon’s place. He was the one that came into his work, flirted with him, when all along he had a girlfriend. All along he was dating his sister. They could’ve been something, they could be together without all this drama, they wouldn’t have to worry, but they’re not, and that was because of Jon, not him.
“Don’t,” he replies, pulling himself up. He looks at Spencer, a red crease mark imprinted into the middle of his forehead. Spencer would laugh if he wasn’t miserable. “It’s not - it’s not your fault.”
Of course. Of course Jon has to say the right fucking thing, making it so much harder.
“I guess - ” Jon starts, giving a helpless shrug of his shoulders, “I guess I’ll drive you home then.”
Spencer bites his lip, swallows the lump in his throat and nods despite the fact that it’s the last thing he wants. All he really wants to do is kiss Jon until he cant breathe. He wants Jon to hold him, and touch him. He wants to feel his warm skin under his fingertips. He wants to hold his hand, and go on dates with him. He wants that and so much more, but it’s never going to happen. “Okay,” he mumbles.
Jon turns the key in the ignition, and pulls out of the parking lot without another word to Spencer. The car ride is spent in absolute silence, the only thing to keep him company is Billy Joel crooning ‘Sometimes a Fantasy’ from Jon’s crappy stereo system.
Spencer’s never been so happy to live so close to the school before as Jon winds through the familiar streets for no longer than five minutes, until he comes to a stop in front of Spencer’s house. Jon doesn’t look at him as he puts the car into park, instead he stares straight ahead, a distant expression on his face.
“I guess - ” Spencer starts, dragging his teeth along his bottom lip. Maybe he doesn’t have to do this. Maybe they can have a secret relationship - like Romeo and Juliet - it could be romantic. Why should Reagan always get whatever guy she wants, never think twice about it, but as soon as Spencer gets the chance, he cant do anything about it because of her? How is that fair? “I guess I’ll see you later,” Spencer finishes, dejected.
“Mm, yeah,” Jon mumbles, eyes still trained ahead, fingers rubbing against his stubbly complexion. Spencer wishes he could reach out and run his own fingers against it, against his, just one last time.
He opens the car door, and steps out onto the cool pavement. “Bye, Jon,” he says sadly.
“Bye,” he replies, still not offering a glance.
Spencer’s heart drops as he closes the door with a snap. It’s not his fault - it’s not. He’s doing the right thing, he’s making it so his sister won’t hate him forever, he’s doing it for his family, so why does Jon have to make this so hard? Doesn’t he understand? If anyone’s in the wrong, it’s Jon. It’s his fault; he’s the one that went and dated his sister. He’s the one who made it so they could never, ever be together.
Spencer watches as Jon drives off, rubber squealing against the pavement as he speeds off down the quiet street. He stays there, watching until his taillights disappear around the corner, part of him that maybe Jon will come back, tell him he’s sorry, that he understands, so that Spencer won’t feel so horrible - but he doesn’t.
He sighs, kicking a pebble with the end of his toe, watching it as it skips across the pavement before colliding with another and comes to a complete stop.
When Spencer gets inside, he finds Reagan curled up on the couch in her PJ’s, chatting away animatedly, phone tucked between her shoulder and ear. Her voice is a little more high-pitched than normal, a little more giggly, flirty; Spencer knows this as her guy voice.
Spencer kicks off his shoes so they hit the wall with a smack, and Reagan looks up only briefly, long enough to shoot him a scowl before going back to his conversation.
It’s official, Spencer hates his life.
*
Ryan and Brendon take time from their fucking to keep Spencer company. He feels like he’s on a suicide watch, with them constantly there, voices high and far too cheery (well, Ryan tries at least, Spencer has to give him that. He’s never heard that boy speak a note that wasn’t monotone since he was twelve and still had yet to go through puberty). There whole attempt to cheer him up goes pretty unsuccessful, seeing as it only seems to make him feel worse. Spencer knows his friends have much better things to do (something that involves just the two of them and a bed - maybe not even) than sit around with Spencer who doesn’t want to do much more than curl up in a ball under his covers and never come out. Okay, so maybe he’s being dramatic, but it sucks, okay?
“Spin, stop it,” Brendon sighs, fanning his hand through his hair. “I mean it, you’re our friend, we want to spend time with you. Especially since we haven’t lately.”
Ryan hums in agreement beside him.
“And I mean it when I say I’m fine. It’s been a week. I don’t need suicide watch,” Spencer replies sharply. “He’s just a guy. There will be plenty of others.” Even as he says it, Spencer highly doubts it. There might be one another seventeen years down the line, but that’ll be about it.
Brendon lets out another sigh, but says nothing.
“So, you guys can just go and - ” Spencer says, waving his hand towards the door in a shooing motion, “do whatever it is you guys do.”
“For fuck sakes, Spencer. Shut up,” Brendon snaps, neck trickling with heat. “We’re not going anywhere. We want to hang out with you, whether you’re upset or not.”
“I’m not - ” Spencer starts, but stops once Brendon shoots him a look, daggers shooting out of his slit eyelids.
They settle on watching movies - Aladdin for Brendon, some lame, foreign, sub-titled movie for Ryan, and Die Hard for Spencer which Ryan and Brendon spend making out the entire time. Spencer really did mean it when he said he wanted them to go home, because wallowing alone in his own self-pity is a lot better than having to watch (and listen) to his best friends swap bodily fluids.
The movie comes to an end, and they pull apart, a line of spit following, before Ryan’s standing up on the hardwood floor, stretching his long-gangly arms over his head. “Well,” he yawns, “I guess I better be going.”
“You’re not sleeping over?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “My dad wants me home by eleven.”
Brendon looks over at Spencer, eyebrow raised. “I can stay the night, right?”
Spencer shoots him a look like, duh, which Brendon replies with a thrust out tongue and crossed eyes. His friends are ridiculous sometimes.
Spencer watches some of Pimp My Ride while Ryan and Brendon say their goodbyes at their doorway. It takes nine minutes and thirty-nine seconds (Spencer timed it) and he can hear the wet smacking of their lips even from the next room over. When Brendon comes back, he looks heartbroken, like that was the last he’ll see of Ryan for months - when in fact, Spencer knows he’ll be over tomorrow morning, right at the crack of dawn.
“You guys are pathetic.”
“We’re in love,” Brendon replies as he falls down onto the couch, hands clasped across his chest dreamily.
“You could’ve went with him, you know,” Spencer says.
Brendon shrugs. “No. Plus, I doubt his dad would let me anyway.”
“Right.” Spencer smirks, amused. “What would be the point if you couldn’t spend the entire night fucking?”
Brendon jabs his foot into the side of Spencer’s thigh. “Ow,” he whines, as Brendon says, “Shut up.”
“What, asshole? It’s true.”
Brendon rolls his eyes, walking his fingers over his knee and up his thigh. “No.”
Spencer shoots him a doubtful look, and begins to flip through the channels as the credits to Pimp My Ride start to roll across the screen.
“We haven’t - ” Brendon starts, head ducked and voice muffled, “you know, done that.”
Spencer’s hand stills on the remote as he snaps his head to look at Brendon, flabbergasted. “What? Seriously? Why?” It’s not that he wants to have a conversation with his best friend about his sex-life with his other best friend, but he was sure they were having sex. He figured they had done it the day Ryan finally got his head out of his ass and admitted it, with the way they were constantly all over each other. They had gone years without it, wouldn’t they jump at the opportunity? Spencer knows he would.
Brendon shakes his head, a strip of pink spreading across his cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. You’re going to laugh.”
“Try me.”
Brendon looks at him, hesitant, before turning to stare back down at his knees, entire face now burning red. He mumbles something into his hand.
“What?”
Brendon sighs, ducking his head even further. “It won’t fit,” he mumbles, so quiet that Spencer almost doesn’t catch it again.
One… Two… Three…
Spencer bursts out laughing. “What?”
“I knew you were going to laugh!” Brendon whines, pressing his palms over his face. “I hate you.”
Spencer bites onto his lip, stifling his laughter. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “Just, I mean, what? I don’t get it. What do you mean it doesn’t fit?”
Brendon shifts uncomfortably, eyes still downcast, not daring to look up and meet his. “Like. Okay. You know how I’m a big wimp when it comes to pain?” Spencer nods; it’s true, he’s cried over a stubbed toe before. “Well, like.” He coughs awkwardly. “You’ve seen Ryan before, I’m sure. He’s - big.”
“AUGH! Too much information! Too much information!” Spencer cries, plugging his ears, but it doesn’t stop the mental picture from popping up in his brain. He has seen it once or twice before - they grew up together for Christ sakes - and while Spencer tried to block it from his memory, he can clearly remembering thinking, god, I feel sorry for whoever has to take that. It is fucking huge, like abnormally so. “I’m picturing it now!”
This earns him another kick in the thigh from Brendon, this time much harder, enough to warrant a bruise. “Shut up. Just never mind, okay? I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to you.” He turns to the TV, face scrunched together in frustration and arms crossed firmly over his chest.
Spencer pulls his fingers from his ear, and sighs. “Sorry. Just, ew. Ryan’s penis.”
Brendon shoots him a look, clearly not amused.
“I’m sorry if it’s weird thinking about my best friends having sex,” he replies. He bites back the ‘Augh! Now I’m picturing that!’ clawing its way up his throat. “But, look, go on. I’ll suck it up.”
“No, never mind.” Brendon shakes his head. “Let’s just watch another movie.”
“No, talk to me. Best friends are supposed to talk about - these things, aren’t they?” He laughs awkwardly. “I’ll just get you back whenever I start having sex.” He stops, then adds dryly, “Whenever that will be.”
Brendon rolls his eyes. “There’s nothing left to say. I want to have sex, but I cant. I’ll die a virgin,” he cries dramatically.
“Cant you just - ” Spencer makes a weird, fluttering thing with his hands. Brendon raises an eyebrow. “You know, cant Ryan just - cant you just switch roles?”
“Ryan refuses to have a cock in his ass,” he replies, a bitter edge to his voice.
Makes sense. He never took Ryan for a cock-taking kind of guy. “Well… that sucks,” Spencer says awkwardly.
“Mm-hmm.” He sighs. “We’ve tried everything.”
“Hopefully - ” Spencer starts, but is cut off by the front door opening as Reagan, firmly attached to an arm of a guy with a leather jacket, comes flying in. Spencer meant it when he said she goes through a lot of guys. It’s barely been a week since she was crying her eyes out over Jon.
Brendon sends Spencer a look like, already? Are you kidding me?
Spencer turns back to the TV, resuming his channel flipping.
Reagan says her hellos (Spencer figures there more directed at Brendon than him) before disappearing into the kitchen with The New Guy. She’s barely spoken three words to him since he had told her about Jon, and it’s not that Spencer expected any different or anything, he’s just curious to how long this will actually go on. Throughout his life, no matter what kind of argument they got into it, it never lasted more than three days, tops. He apologized profusely, broke it off with Jon and Reagan found a new guy; he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do.
“What the hell?” Brendon hisses, low enough so they cant overhear from the next room. “So you cant have Jon even though it’s a week later and she already has a guy?”
“Just leave it, Brendon,” he hisses back. “It doesn’t matter whether she already has a guy or not. Either way, Jon’s still her sloppy seconds.”
“Technically, it’s not considered sloppy seconds if you saw him first.”
“Says who?”
“Says - ” Brendon pauses, taking a moment to ponder this. “I don’t know! Whoever it is that makes up those kind of rules,” he implores.
Spencer rolls his eyes, doubtful.
“Hey, you guys,” Reagan says, suddenly at the doorway, The New Guy’s hand resting comfortably on her hip. “Do you think you could like - go watch TV in your room or something? Me and Jeremy want to watch a movie, and you know mom and dad’s rule.” She rolls her eyes. Reagan seems to think that just because she’s eighteen, she should be allowed to fool around with any guy she wants in her bedroom under her parents’ roof.
Usually, Spencer would make a big deal out of this; he’d probably whine a little, stomp his feet, tell her she owes him, just because, but now that he’s trying not to have her hate him anymore, he gets up without any hassle. “Sure, Reag.”
Brendon, on the other hand, looks a bit more skeptical, but since it isn’t his house, he follows anyway.
Reagan mumbles her half-hearted thanks, before practically pushing past the two of them and plopping down on the couch, dragging this Jeremy guy down with her. It’s times like this, when Spencer’s sure that if she wasn’t his sister, he’d totally hate her.
In his room, Brendon opens his mouth, eyebrows furrowed, probably to press on some more about Jon, but Spencer cuts him off with a hard stare as he throws a Playstation controller onto his lap. “Don’t.”
Brendon, surprisingly, doesn’t.
*
Three days later he’s sprawled on his bed, working on his math homework. He’s back to being alone again, Ryan and Brendon off actually having sex this time (“It worked! It worked!” Brendon exclaimed over the phone two days ago. “It hurt like a bitch, and I cried, but it worked!” The next day Brendon came to school with a horrible, horrible limp and a sheer look of pain every time he so much as moved).
There’s a soft knock on his bedroom door, and he looks up to see Reagan standing at the doorway, a sheepish smile on her face. Spencer can smell a truce. “Hey,” she says softly. “Homework?”
“Yeah. Math.” He wrinkles his nose in disgust.
“Ah, how I miss math,” she jokes.
Spencer manages a smile, kind of.
She sighs, and runs a hand through her hair, the long, blonde strands cascading against her shoulders. “Look, we should talk.”
“Sure,” Spencer mumbles, feeling his heart rate slowly begin to pick up.
She sits down on the edge of his bed, body angled towards him, and says, “I’m sorry about how I acted with the whole Jon thing.”
“Don’t be,” he replies. “I didn’t expect you to act any other way, except maybe worse.”
She gives a small shrug of her shoulders, a perfectly glossed lip in between perfectly white teeth. Has he mentioned how much he hates her sometimes? No wonder she gets so many guys and he gets none. “You’ve been miserable.”
“I have not,” Spencer scoffs, but his cheeks flare pink despite his best efforts.
“You have. Way more than me, anyway, and he was my boyfriend.” She shakes her head. After a minute, she adds softly, “I didn’t mean for you to call it off with him.” Her eyes scan his for a moment before Spencer’s drops his gaze to the comforter, busted.
“What? Of course I did. You’re my sister. I wasn’t going to let some guy come between us.”
“He won’t come between us,” she says, sincere. “You finally have the chance to be with someone, someone who really cares about you, and I ruin it because I’m selfish.”
“You’re not selfish, Reag,” he insists. “He was your boyfriend and I’m your brother. That’s wrong. And I mean, what did I even expect anyway? We’d never work. Do you even know how weird that would be? For you? For me? For our parents? For everyone?”
“And they’d get over it. I’d get over it.” Spencer gives her a skeptical look, and she gives him a plain stare back. “Spencer, I mean it. I want you two together. I love you and I want you to be happy. I mean, yeah, it was pretty shitty what you did, but I think I punished you enough. Plus, I mean, in a way I can understand. I know that you didn’t do it to hurt me. I’d probably do the same.”
“No,” Spencer laughs, doubtful, “you wouldn’t.”
Reagan shrugs. “Seriously though, who cares if it’s weird at first?” She inches her hand toward his, and squeezes. “Plus, I mean,” she laughs, teasing, “plus, I’ve had so many boyfriends it’d be hard to find someone who I haven’t dated.”
Spencer rolls his eyes, but laughs with her. “I don’t know, Reag. I just think it’d be really weird for everyone.”
“Look, this might be really awkward, but we didn’t even sleep together,” she explains. “We barely did anything, okay? I mean, like, I would understand if we did, but we didn’t, so… like it’s not even really sloppy seconds.”
Spencer gives a pathetic shrug of his shoulders, even though inside he’s letting out a long sigh of relief. “It doesn’t matter. He’s just a guy, there will be more.”
“He’s just a guy that you’re crazy about,” she corrects. “And that’s crazy about you.”
Spencer gives another eye roll, but feels his cheeks slowly start to heat up again. He wait’s a moment thinking this over, before letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I cant. It’s over anyways. I haven’t talked to him since then. He’s probably moved on.”
“I doubt it.”
Spencer shrugs.
She says nothing for a moment, looking over Spencer calculatingly, and Spencer goes back to his homework, pretending he doesn’t notice. Finally, she says, giving him a light pat on the leg, “I say we celebrate our truce by going to the mall. I saw these shoes the other day that you’d absolutely adore.”
Spencer looks up, pleased, a feverous grin creeping its way across his lips. “Really?”
“Yeah.” She nods, picking herself up off the bed. “Just let me get ready and we’ll go.”
The grin remains plastered to his lips once she leaves, and maybe he doesn’t have Jon, but at least he has his sister back, and maybe that’s all that really matters. It sucks, sure, but he was beginning to think she’d never forgive him again.
Spencer starts back on his homework, already up and dressed from when he went to the grocery store earlier with his mom because he had nothing better to do. He hums under his breath, feeling giddy and a bit silly, and he’s fairly positive nothing could go wrong right now.
Spencer finishes his homework, tucks it back into his school bag and settles with fooling around on his computer until Reagan finishes getting ready. It’s already been twenty minutes, but if Spencer knows one thing about his sister, it’s that it takes ages for her to get ready, even if it’s just a quick stop at the video store. Reagan always makes sure she’s dressed to impress.
Finally, what seems like hours later, when Spencer is sure the mall is creeping on its closing hours, there’s a knock on his door and Spencer jumps from his chair, all set and ready to go. The door opens, and Reagan is standing there, looking suspiciously pleased with herself. “So, hey, look who randomly showed up!” She steps aside, and sure enough, there’s Jon slouched behind her, hands shoved in his pockets as he looks up at Spencer sheepishly.
Spencer narrows his eyes are her, all but baring teeth, and Reagan just looking back at him, batting her eyes innocently. He’s about five seconds from slamming the door in their faces and crawling under his covers when Reagan grabs a hold of Jon’s arm and practically shoves him into Spencer’s room. For a tiny girl, Reagan is freakishly strong. “Okay, so here’s the deal,” she starts, backing out of the room, and Jon stands there, staring back at her helplessly, “you guys aren’t allowed out until you’ve made up.”
“Reagan,” Spencer hisses. “Why - ” cant he just have a normal sister who doesn’t try to set their brothers up with their ex-boyfriends? Why?
“Okay, byeeee!” she sings sweetly as she begins to slide the door closed behind her.
“You cant lock me in my own bedroom, Reag!” Spencer calls after her, flustered, but the door closes with a click and there’s no reply. He glares at the closed door, heart picking up speed as it crashes against his ribcage. He forces his eyes over to Jon who’s standing there awkwardly, kicking the floor with his toes.
“Hi,” he mumbles, sheepishly.
“Hi.”
“It was her idea,” he accuses.
“She’s so fucking weird,” Spencer grumbles, folding his arms over his chest.
He shrugs. “Maybe a little bit, but I’m pretty thankful for it actually.” Jon lets out a nervous laugh, and after a moment of no return from Spencer, he quickly snaps his mouth shut. He shifts uncomfortably, and takes a few careful steps toward him.
Spencer takes a step back, and Jon’s face falls considerably. “Look, okay, nothing’s changed. I still cant - we still cant. It just cant happen.”
“And why not?” he asks defiantly. “I don’t get it, Spence. Reagan is okay with it. She even locked us in a room together. I don’t see why you’re still saying no to this.”
“Because,” Spencer replies stubbornly as he pulls his arms closer to his chest, “she’s only doing this because of pity. Plus, whatever, she says it’s okay now but when it actually comes to the fact it’ll just be weird. And what would my parents say? It’s just wrong, so wrong.”
Jon looks him over, a thoughtful expression on his face, and Spencer shifts, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck and butterflies twist in his stomach. He looks away, but Jon keeps on watching him. “I don’t think that’s it,” he says finally.
“What do you mean?” Spencer frowns.
“I think you’re scared.”
“I am not scared,” he retorts, but his heating cheeks tell otherwise. Jon raises an eyebrow, doubtful, and Spencer sinks further into himself, face growing even hotter. He’s not scared. He isn’t. That’s just stupid. What is there to be scared of? He’s been waiting for a boyfriend forever, he’s ready, so that’s definitely not it. Jon’s just being a dick. Yeah, that’s right, a dick. Like always. “Shut up, okay? I’m not,” he snaps.
Jon takes a few steps closer, nearing Spencer, and this time, he doesn’t take a step back. Instead, he keeps his stance, a bit shaky on his feet, his eyes on Jon as he breathes out evenly through his nose. Jon comes to a stop, a few inches away and says, softly as ever, warm breath trickling against his skin, “It’s okay, you know.” He lays a hand on his forearm, tugging it down from his chest, and Spencer yields to it for a minute before he’s shrugging him away again.
“Jon,” he says, voice breaking.
“Your sister’s not going to let us out of here until we’re together,” Jon points out cheekily.
Spencer scoffs. “It’s really not that hard to get out.”
Jon ignores him. “Maybe it’ll be weird,” he says softly, pressing a hand against Spencer’s waist, “but we don’t know until we give it a try, right? We have something, and it’s stupid to just throw it away.”
Spencer lets out a little huff of air, caving, and allows Jon to tug him forward until their chests are flush together. Spencer stares down at the floor not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know…” he murmurs.
“It doesn’t hurt to try,” Jon repeats, voice low, nose brushing against his cheek.
“I’ve never - ” Spencer starts, and swallows. “I’ve never, like, you know. I’ve never been in a relationship before,” he admits, shameful. “I don’t know - like. I just, I don’t know the first thing about it.”
“And I’ll teach you.” Jon smiles into his skin, the stubble on his chin brushing against his cheek.
Spencer bites his lip, and shivers. “I’m not my sister,” he says. “I’m not pretty like her, or skinny like her. Or funny, or experienced, or - ”
“Spencer,” Jon says, sternly, pulling back to look Spencer in the eye. Spencer allows himself to catch it for a second before he’s staring back at the ground, face burning red. “You’re awesome, okay? Trust me.”
Spencer shrugs. “I just - ”
Jon surges forward, pressing his lips against Spencer’s, leaving his sentence unfinished. “Shut up,” Jon murmurs fondly, pulling away before Spencer has a chance to react. “You have no say in the matter anymore.”
Spencer manages to raise an eyebrow over the rushing in his head and the butterflies in his stomach. “Oh yeah?” he chokes.
“Yeah,” Jon smiles smugly, and leans in for another kiss, taking Spencer’s bottom lip between his. “You’ll thank me one day.”
“We’ll see about that.” Spencer smirks, leaning in for another kiss, but something inside is telling him that he will.
Boy, will he ever.
*
“Hey sexy, can I get your opinion on something?”
Spencer rolls his eyes, amused, and stops where he’s rearranging the lotion display, counting to three before he turns around to see Jon’s smug face grinning back at him. “You’re a loser,” he says fondly.
“Yes, but your loser,” Jon replies, batting his eyelashes before tugging Spencer into him by his belt loops. “So, that makes it okay by default.”
“True.” It’s been three months, but somehow, the thought of Jon being his still makes him feel a little weak in the knees.
Jon pecks him a quick kiss to the side of his mouth before stepping back, and scooping up a bottle of body spray of the shelf, an amused smile tugging on the corners of his lips. He flashes the bottle of White Tea and Ginger, and Spencer grins with him. “I never did get around to buying this, did I?”
“No,” Spencer answers, “you did not.”
“Hmm,” Jon says thoughtfully, “I wonder why I would have even asked then.”
Spencer shrugs, fighting back the smile. “Cant say. Why did you?”
Jon slides the bottle back onto the shelf, smirking as he says, “Beats me.”