Bandfic: Attention to Detail (Brendon/Spencer, Jon. PG.)
Title: Attention to Detail
Author: tigs
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer (Jon POV)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own.
Warnings: Fluff.
Summary: Jon didn't think anything of it, the first time. 1580 words.
Jon didn't think anything of it, the first time. A night out at a bar, a lot of drinks, a cab ride home, Brendon crawling out of the back seat after Spencer, saying, "This is closer. I'll just-I'll catch a ride in with Spence tomorrow." He tossed a few crumpled bills to pay their part of the fare at Jon, tried to punch him on the shoulder but ended up hitting the seat next to his neck instead.
"Yeah," Jon said. "Yeah, of course. 'Night."
It was closer, after all-Brendon's condo was still another 15 minutes away, Ryan's house only five, and Jon totally understood. It wasn't like he hadn't crashed at Spencer's or Brendon's in the past, before he'd moved in with Ryan. Hell, after he'd moved in with Ryan, too.
So yeah, he didn't think anything of it.
*
He didn't think anything of it the second time, either, though later he pretty much blamed that one on the fact that they'd been at the practice space for 10 hours straight that day and his brain had pretty much shut down. Three hours ago it had declared, 'Thinking? There will be no more thinking tonight, Jon Walker, you silly, silly man.' The joint he'd smoked in the parking lot before getting in the back of Brendon's car probably hadn't helped either.
He was still with it enough, though, to know that the order of drop-offs should have been: Spencer, Jon-and-Ryan, Brendon. Brendon made a right hand turn where he should have made a left, though, and when Ryan said, "Um, dude? Did you forget your other passenger?"
Brendon shook his head and said, "I-"
"There's a book he wanted to loan me," Spencer said, interrupting him, looking over his shoulder at Ryan and Jon, his elbow balanced against Brendon's seat, fingers drumming out a rhythm against the headrest. "He promised to bring it to me today, but he fucking left it at his place this morning. We're going to go grab it."
Later Jon would think: Totally smooth, totally earnest.
Brendon on the other hand? When he'd said his "Exactly!" he'd been staring straight ahead, hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.
*
That probably should have been Jon's first (second, eighth, hundredth) clue, and maybe it was. Even if all of those other times hadn't truly clicked, not in the way they should have, at some point his brain got to thinking things he didn't register he was thinking, just a little.
Because the time that he actually started to think something of it, well, there wasn't really anything in particular going on to think anything of. Or something like that.
Just:
Another day in the practice space, another long fucking day, the dinner hour long gone, and still they were there, mostly done, mostly just listening to Ryan fiddle around with snippets of melody now, occasionally adding in harmonies of their own.
Jon was sprawled on the floor, head pillowed on his sweatshirt, and he'd had his eyes closed for maybe five minutes, maybe an hour, and then Ryan hit a wrong note, enough to jolt his eyes open. He saw Ryan shaking his head back and forth, cringing, heard him swearing quietly under his breath, and he glanced over at Spencer, wanting to share his amusement, wanting to see Spencer's lips twitch in the way they always did when Ryan did something like that.
Spencer wasn't watching Ryan, though. Didn't even look like he'd noticed Ryan's gaffe. He was looking to his right, and from his position on the floor, all Jon could see was wall. And feet. Brendon's feet, up in the air, moving in patterns like Jon had seen in Cassie's aerobics class. As Jon watched, Brendon started cycling his feet, and when Jon looked back at Spencer, he saw that Spencer was smiling. Was probably about to make a joke, or something. Possibly ask if Brendon was training for the Tour de France. Except he didn't. He just kept looking, grinning.
And Jon thought, huh.
*
After that, he noticed.
For instance:
More often than not, Brendon gave Spencer a ride to the studio in the morning. It was on his way, Brendon said when Ryan asked him if he'd started up a limousine service in his spare time.
Once, though, after a night when Jon knew they'd each gone to their separate houses, they showed up together in Spencer's car, Brendon half asleep in the passenger seat, and when Spencer went to shake him awake, it looked more like he was ruffling Brendon's hair.
Or:
When they hit the actual recording studio, a few days a week Spencer would go out to get them lunch while the rest of them were laying down vocals. He always took their orders, every day. Ryan liked to switch it up, ask for something outrageous, making Spencer roll his eyes at whatever the new request was. Jon liked to rotate his order, but he rarely deviated from the set menu in his head. Brendon, though, would look at Spencer and say, "Surprise me. You know what I like."
And yeah, Spencer always seemed to.
Or:
Then there was the time when they all went out to some local show, some baby band, a friend of a friend of The Cab's. Ryan stayed at the back the whole night, texting back and forth with Keltie while Jon kept them supplied with drinks from the bar. Brendon stayed at their table through most of the first opener, but by the beginning of the second he'd made his way almost to the front of the stage, none of the acts large enough to warrant a railing. Three songs later, Spencer stood up and said, "I'm just going to-" and made his way into the crowd.
Jon watched them: Brendon's smile of greeting when he realized that Spencer had joined him; the way Spencer's hand lingered on Brendon's shoulder every time he leaned down to say (shout) something into Brendon's ear. When they came back to the table after the third opener, they were sweaty and laughing, almost holding each other up, arms around each other's shoulders.
Still, if Jon hadn't been watching, he might not have noticed the way that Spencer's fingers curled around Brendon's neck, tightening briefly, then falling away again.
Or:
Then there was that day at the studio when they were taking a break, when Ryan was sitting in the hallway, talking to Keltie, when Jon had gone outside for some sunshine, when Zack and Eric were off doing Zack and Eric things. Jon was the first one back, or so he thought, but when he opened the door to the studio, he saw Brendon sitting at Spencer's drum kit, tapping out a beat on the snare before starting in on the line for 'Nine in the Afternoon.'
Spencer was just sitting there watching him. Listening. Echoing the rhythm with his fingers on his knees.
Before either of them could notice him, Jon shut the door again and went down the hallway to bother Ryan.
*
So. Jon noticed. He paid attention.
He kept expecting a conversation to make it official, but what he got instead was Brendon rubbing Spencer's shoulders after a particularly long day in the studio, Spencer leaning his head back against Brendon's chest. He got hands brushing together on top of a table, pinkies tapping against each other, sometimes linking. He got wrestling and tickling matches ending with Brendon and Spencer sprawled on top of each other in the middle of the floor, Spencer's head on Brendon's shoulder, Brendon's fingers running through Spencer's hair.
He got Spencer and Brendon sharing looks before agreeing to plans, curling up on couches together, referring to themselves as a 'we'.
At some point, and Jon was never quite sure when it started, he began to refer to them as a 'you,' too. You, as in both, clarification never needed.
*
He kept expecting the conversation, but maybe, Jon thought eventually, they'd already had it, sometime between when Brendon and Spencer stopped being subtle and Jon had started noticing that something had changed.
Maybe they'd had it, he thought, it just hadn't actually been with words.
*
Still:
Three days after Brendon came up behind the couch that Spencer and Jon were sharing and pressed a kiss to the top of Spencer's head before bouncing off to talk to Eric about something that involved lots of hand waving and laughter, Jon asked, "When?"
He was pretty sure there was a 'how long?' and a 'why him?' and a 'what changed?' buried in there, too.
Part of him expected the answer to be something along the lines of 'always', or, at the very least, for Spencer to mention a particular moment, a turning point where whatever it was between them had suddenly become more.
Instead, Spencer just shrugged and said, "I just-"
When he looked over at Jon, though, his smile was as wide as Jon had ever seen it, bright enough that Jon felt like it should be lighting the whole room.
Jon was pretty sure that that was the only answer that mattered.
*
So:
Two weeks into the tour, Ryan sat down across the table in the kitchenette from Jon and said, "They started making out halfway through the movie again." He sighed, obviously trying to sound put upon, but his grin belied his annoyance.
"That's life," Jon said, and, well, yeah. It was.
Author: tigs
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer (Jon POV)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own.
Warnings: Fluff.
Summary: Jon didn't think anything of it, the first time. 1580 words.
Jon didn't think anything of it, the first time. A night out at a bar, a lot of drinks, a cab ride home, Brendon crawling out of the back seat after Spencer, saying, "This is closer. I'll just-I'll catch a ride in with Spence tomorrow." He tossed a few crumpled bills to pay their part of the fare at Jon, tried to punch him on the shoulder but ended up hitting the seat next to his neck instead.
"Yeah," Jon said. "Yeah, of course. 'Night."
It was closer, after all-Brendon's condo was still another 15 minutes away, Ryan's house only five, and Jon totally understood. It wasn't like he hadn't crashed at Spencer's or Brendon's in the past, before he'd moved in with Ryan. Hell, after he'd moved in with Ryan, too.
So yeah, he didn't think anything of it.
*
He didn't think anything of it the second time, either, though later he pretty much blamed that one on the fact that they'd been at the practice space for 10 hours straight that day and his brain had pretty much shut down. Three hours ago it had declared, 'Thinking? There will be no more thinking tonight, Jon Walker, you silly, silly man.' The joint he'd smoked in the parking lot before getting in the back of Brendon's car probably hadn't helped either.
He was still with it enough, though, to know that the order of drop-offs should have been: Spencer, Jon-and-Ryan, Brendon. Brendon made a right hand turn where he should have made a left, though, and when Ryan said, "Um, dude? Did you forget your other passenger?"
Brendon shook his head and said, "I-"
"There's a book he wanted to loan me," Spencer said, interrupting him, looking over his shoulder at Ryan and Jon, his elbow balanced against Brendon's seat, fingers drumming out a rhythm against the headrest. "He promised to bring it to me today, but he fucking left it at his place this morning. We're going to go grab it."
Later Jon would think: Totally smooth, totally earnest.
Brendon on the other hand? When he'd said his "Exactly!" he'd been staring straight ahead, hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.
*
That probably should have been Jon's first (second, eighth, hundredth) clue, and maybe it was. Even if all of those other times hadn't truly clicked, not in the way they should have, at some point his brain got to thinking things he didn't register he was thinking, just a little.
Because the time that he actually started to think something of it, well, there wasn't really anything in particular going on to think anything of. Or something like that.
Just:
Another day in the practice space, another long fucking day, the dinner hour long gone, and still they were there, mostly done, mostly just listening to Ryan fiddle around with snippets of melody now, occasionally adding in harmonies of their own.
Jon was sprawled on the floor, head pillowed on his sweatshirt, and he'd had his eyes closed for maybe five minutes, maybe an hour, and then Ryan hit a wrong note, enough to jolt his eyes open. He saw Ryan shaking his head back and forth, cringing, heard him swearing quietly under his breath, and he glanced over at Spencer, wanting to share his amusement, wanting to see Spencer's lips twitch in the way they always did when Ryan did something like that.
Spencer wasn't watching Ryan, though. Didn't even look like he'd noticed Ryan's gaffe. He was looking to his right, and from his position on the floor, all Jon could see was wall. And feet. Brendon's feet, up in the air, moving in patterns like Jon had seen in Cassie's aerobics class. As Jon watched, Brendon started cycling his feet, and when Jon looked back at Spencer, he saw that Spencer was smiling. Was probably about to make a joke, or something. Possibly ask if Brendon was training for the Tour de France. Except he didn't. He just kept looking, grinning.
And Jon thought, huh.
*
After that, he noticed.
For instance:
More often than not, Brendon gave Spencer a ride to the studio in the morning. It was on his way, Brendon said when Ryan asked him if he'd started up a limousine service in his spare time.
Once, though, after a night when Jon knew they'd each gone to their separate houses, they showed up together in Spencer's car, Brendon half asleep in the passenger seat, and when Spencer went to shake him awake, it looked more like he was ruffling Brendon's hair.
Or:
When they hit the actual recording studio, a few days a week Spencer would go out to get them lunch while the rest of them were laying down vocals. He always took their orders, every day. Ryan liked to switch it up, ask for something outrageous, making Spencer roll his eyes at whatever the new request was. Jon liked to rotate his order, but he rarely deviated from the set menu in his head. Brendon, though, would look at Spencer and say, "Surprise me. You know what I like."
And yeah, Spencer always seemed to.
Or:
Then there was the time when they all went out to some local show, some baby band, a friend of a friend of The Cab's. Ryan stayed at the back the whole night, texting back and forth with Keltie while Jon kept them supplied with drinks from the bar. Brendon stayed at their table through most of the first opener, but by the beginning of the second he'd made his way almost to the front of the stage, none of the acts large enough to warrant a railing. Three songs later, Spencer stood up and said, "I'm just going to-" and made his way into the crowd.
Jon watched them: Brendon's smile of greeting when he realized that Spencer had joined him; the way Spencer's hand lingered on Brendon's shoulder every time he leaned down to say (shout) something into Brendon's ear. When they came back to the table after the third opener, they were sweaty and laughing, almost holding each other up, arms around each other's shoulders.
Still, if Jon hadn't been watching, he might not have noticed the way that Spencer's fingers curled around Brendon's neck, tightening briefly, then falling away again.
Or:
Then there was that day at the studio when they were taking a break, when Ryan was sitting in the hallway, talking to Keltie, when Jon had gone outside for some sunshine, when Zack and Eric were off doing Zack and Eric things. Jon was the first one back, or so he thought, but when he opened the door to the studio, he saw Brendon sitting at Spencer's drum kit, tapping out a beat on the snare before starting in on the line for 'Nine in the Afternoon.'
Spencer was just sitting there watching him. Listening. Echoing the rhythm with his fingers on his knees.
Before either of them could notice him, Jon shut the door again and went down the hallway to bother Ryan.
*
So. Jon noticed. He paid attention.
He kept expecting a conversation to make it official, but what he got instead was Brendon rubbing Spencer's shoulders after a particularly long day in the studio, Spencer leaning his head back against Brendon's chest. He got hands brushing together on top of a table, pinkies tapping against each other, sometimes linking. He got wrestling and tickling matches ending with Brendon and Spencer sprawled on top of each other in the middle of the floor, Spencer's head on Brendon's shoulder, Brendon's fingers running through Spencer's hair.
He got Spencer and Brendon sharing looks before agreeing to plans, curling up on couches together, referring to themselves as a 'we'.
At some point, and Jon was never quite sure when it started, he began to refer to them as a 'you,' too. You, as in both, clarification never needed.
*
He kept expecting the conversation, but maybe, Jon thought eventually, they'd already had it, sometime between when Brendon and Spencer stopped being subtle and Jon had started noticing that something had changed.
Maybe they'd had it, he thought, it just hadn't actually been with words.
*
Still:
Three days after Brendon came up behind the couch that Spencer and Jon were sharing and pressed a kiss to the top of Spencer's head before bouncing off to talk to Eric about something that involved lots of hand waving and laughter, Jon asked, "When?"
He was pretty sure there was a 'how long?' and a 'why him?' and a 'what changed?' buried in there, too.
Part of him expected the answer to be something along the lines of 'always', or, at the very least, for Spencer to mention a particular moment, a turning point where whatever it was between them had suddenly become more.
Instead, Spencer just shrugged and said, "I just-"
When he looked over at Jon, though, his smile was as wide as Jon had ever seen it, bright enough that Jon felt like it should be lighting the whole room.
Jon was pretty sure that that was the only answer that mattered.
*
So:
Two weeks into the tour, Ryan sat down across the table in the kitchenette from Jon and said, "They started making out halfway through the movie again." He sighed, obviously trying to sound put upon, but his grin belied his annoyance.
"That's life," Jon said, and, well, yeah. It was.