?

Log in

 
 
30 November 2008 @ 07:55 pm
Disappear here  
A/N: I really hope this is liked. It's taken me forever and a day, and it's kinda my baby. And a very very very very big thank you, to my awesome beta ryanbrendonlove

Some joncer, with a nice little bit of rydon.
And A little warning, there is! swearing.
And also, I sadly, don't own anything.








There's a feeling you get sometimes, like you're just so alive, and infinite and bigger than anything that could make you feel inadequate. You feel like dancing, so maybe you do, and you feel like you just glow with happiness. And maybe you do.

There's a feeling you get sometimes, like you're not really here. And, there are these thoughts that go along with it all. And sometimes Spencer feels like that he sounds like Ryan on these days. Or maybe Ryan sounds like him. But it’s funny, you know?
You feel like you can fill pages and pages with your thoughts because they're so fast and big and you might burst open if they don't get it all out. They're all tangled like balls of wool, and you need to, absolutely need to straighten them out and remember what you've been thinking, because tomorrow you'll be feeling different and you'll forget everything.

He's sat reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower and maybe he read it once when he was 13, because Ryan said to, so he did and he read, but never saw the words. The Beatles are playing, but when had they ever not been? It was one of those days where he felt like he was floating. His feelings got mixed up and he couldn't really remember why he felt like flying. He could be talking to someone on the bus having a drink, and his eyes would wander to the window, and he'd just sit and think of how the sky looked like a roof until Brendon, or whoever he was talking to (remind him again?) was walking away annoyed.

So, yeah, he was sat reading a book. A book about a wallflower and someone called Patrick or something. And he thought to himself that wow, maybe this book was written about him? And then his thoughts were wool again and he felt dizzy so he had to stop reading and rest his head on his knees.

Spencer couldn't remember when he was never like this. He was told he wasn't normal sometimes, but whatever, because who wants to be normal? And he still couldn't remember when he was never like this. He didn't know how to be any different.

But still, today had not been a very good day.

Because he's sat again and he's keeping on with trying to read that book. Only today's different from yesterday, right? He doesn't feel nostalgic, or suffocated. He's just reading his book and passing some time until he becomes Spencer Smith The Drummer For Panic and doesn't have a minute to think about if that's hot pockets he can smell.

When he started to not be able to actually see the words he was reading, he put the book down and pulled his legs up, curling his arms around them. He was in the lounge and nobody was around. This was his favourite kind of silence. The silence that isn't actually silent, it's filled with little sounds that add up to nothing, like radio static. But then he heard a familiar rhythm, and Spencer knew all about rhythms didn't he? So instead of their being static, he tuned into the footsteps coming closer. And he knew who they were from, because who else was always wearing flip flops?

And they were getting closer, and he knew that Jon was coming towards him, and was probably coming into the lounge, because that was the only thing this far back in the bus. So Spencer carried on looking out of the window, and ignored his stomach when it clenched tightly, and he tried not to let his mind start flipping out like on a bad day. The days where it's endless questions that mean nothing, but ask everything, and if he didn't know any better, he'd swear he was high. So no, he tried not to let that happen, he tried to let that happy glow settle around him, because he wanted Jon to see that, you know? He wanted Jon to see him. To look at him and actually see him. And it felt like a lifetime of waiting, so Spencer started thinking about where this all came from.

And then he was there, and he was watching himself, and he was remembering things, only this time he added his own commentary. He watched the first time he met Jon, the first time Jon smiled, the first conversation they had, and how he'd said his name.
“Spencer, wow, hello there Spencer. Spencer Smith....Mr. Smith....Spence...” and that was it.
Jon was everything all at once and Spencer never wanted him to leave. Ever. And was it love? Not at first sight. But maybe second. Oh definitely second. It was pure, once in a lifetime never ending, love. But see, he had no idea if it was one sided or not. Maybe he was too spaced out, too wrapped up in himself to notice, or maybe Jon didn't show it. But you know, Spencer hoped one day he might because it was killing him. He'd die happy though, because this was Jon Walker ladies and gentleman. Jonathan Walker.

And then he was waking up, he'd been daydreaming as fast as light. And once again ladies, Jonathan Walker. Have you ever seen him? Spencer often wonders where god found such a huge slice of perfection to sculpt into Jon and send him down to be with him.
He's opening the door and flip flopping his way inside and taking away all of the static. That's what he does to Spencer, he makes his head make sense, or slow down a bit at least. And he just makes everything ok, and happy, and infinite, forever, he takes away all the bad stuff that's going on. The couch dips a little bit, and where have the sandals, mandals, Jonflops gone? Because Jon's sitting Indian style facing him and his smile is so wide Spencer can't remember a time when he felt unhappy. But only for a little while.

“ 'thought maybe you were lonely.” It isn’t a question; and it never is, is it? Jon just knows; he’s perfectly in tune with Spencer, and maybe that's how he fills all the static space.
And when Spencer really thought about it, he was feeling lonely. But only the kind of lonely he gets when he goes too long without Jon. And hey, Jon was like Chloroform or something, a wonder drug, and Spencer wouldn't mind being addicted.

“Maybe” was all he said. He felt comfortable, so he sat like Jon was. And they were smiling, and hey The Beatles have stopped, where's Ryan? But then Spencer saw Jon's head dip, and his hair fell into his eyes, and there you have it, Jon did it again, he had Spencer's full attention, even when his mind tried to wander. Jon told him once that it was ok that he was thinking all the time, because it happened to him sometimes too, and maybe Spencer fell in love with him a little more right there and then.

“Ryan must have left the bus” And ok-
“What?” Have they stopped moving?
“We've stopped. So has the music” Oh.

But then there it was, the Hard Day's Night album came, so-
“I guess not then...”

It was like one big conversation, inside and outside of Spencer, and really, he needed to ask Jon about his radio frequency. Because seriously, why could Jon tune into to him, when Spencer couldn't even do it himself. Tell him his FM, it's only polite.

Spencer looked at Jon, really looked. And he saw red and blue and beard and smile. He saw that Jon looked a little tired, and ok, it was dark outside? And then there was the slightly dizzy feeling again, Spencer thought it was earlier in the day, and honestly, where had his time gone? But it was ok, Spencer thought, it's ok, because “I've got you Spence...”.

It was half past eleven. No numbers, just words spoken all fast and at once, halfpasteleven, thank you and goodnight. He suddenly felt as tired as Jon looked, or maybe more, possibly more, and he just felt like resting his head for awhile. But he wasn't asleep, just resting his eyes.

Then there was a shift in movement, and Jon sat back, with his legs on the floor, and ok when did Spencer get here? His head was resting on Jon's lap, and he really had to fight to stay awake, for just five more minutes, please, give me five more minutes. A hand was carding through his hair, and he felt better than he ever had. How did he exist without this?

“Go to sleep Spence, it's fine, I've got you.”
And his eyes closed.

Someone, a Brendon kind of someone once said something stupid. Something about d-minor, and poetry verses and hey wouldn't piano keys look beautiful covering my skin? And Spencer thought that no, it wouldn't. And he wanted to scream, that Spencer kind of scream that was totally manly, thanks very much. He had no idea where he was, or what was happening, but his eyes wouldn't open, and his mind was still trapped in that nightmare.

And damn Brendon Boyd Urie to hell and back for putting those words into Spencer's head, because when he thought about them, they were scary and strange and something he just couldn't comprehend and make right. And then he thought this is a nightmare, the remnants of. He was waking up exactly where he’d fallen asleep. And it was exactly, because he was in a Jon blanket, all wrapped up and it should be illegal, because it felt too nice. It had been one of those nights, where you wake up so many times that it feels like you’ve never been asleep. And his nightmare felt real. But it’s ok, it’s really ok, because Jon’s shaking his shoulder slightly and running a hand through his hair and telling him to wake up. They need to get ready, wake up. It’s soft and nice and it helps to chip away the headache that was creeping behind his eyes. So he gets up, with help from Jon, they lean against each other and shuffle and giggle and get tangled up as they walk into the...area. He doesn’t know what to call it. They have a coffee machine and some benches and a lot of the time there’s a Brendon and a Ryan in there too. But it’s not a kitchen, because this isn’t a house.

Ryan’s there this time, with Brendon too because they go together, just like that. And they’re talking about something musical. Ryan’s showing Brendon his notebook, and Spencer thinks that there’s a difference between using good words and being good with words, but he doesn’t say anything. Jon looks at him like he can read his mind, and passes him his favourite mug, and they all say “Good Morning.” And it all fits together.

It’s a surprise to Spencer one day when he walks into the back room and finds Ryan and Brendon all mashed up and kissing, and the room is hot and sweaty. But there are clothes still on, so he doesn’t feel like being sick on them both. Because that’s just something you don’t want to see. So he meeps and runs off to Jon, because you know, he’ll be surprised too. Only he really isn’t, he just smiles like he knows everything, and for once that just makes Spencer mad. He thinks that Ryan and Brendon have been so selfish, and for once in his life he walks away from Jon Walker, and doesn’t care.

Even though Spencer’s still mad he goes to find Ryan, and Ryan smiles because maybe they’ve missed each other a bit. And Brendon isn’t there this time. So it’s just them, like it always has been, because everyone, absolutely everyone forgets about Ryan and Spencer. They just assume, you know? But come on, they’ve been friends since forever, they know everything. But it’s different from Jon kind of knowledge, and it’s different from Brendon kind of knowledge too. It’s just different.

Spencer demands to know the details and Ryan smiles like a tool, and they both feel fifteen again.

And it’s been about three days. Three whole since Spencer walked away, and maybe that’s why Jon hasn’t tried to find him since. He doesn’t understand, not really, because the dynamics are all off now and he thinks somewhere in and amongst this (shh, keep it a secret) relationship of his band mates, a line was crossed. Or some T’s where crossed and I’s were dotted, or the other way around. But he does know that he hasn’t been found in three days. And that’s really unusual you know? Ryan’s been talking to him a lot more, and he’s gluing Spencer back to his hip little by little again. But along with Ryan comes Brendon now, like a neat little package. And Spencer’s the third wheel, or whatever kids were calling it these days, because Spencer didn’t speak juvenile thank you. He soon grew tired of sitting and watching, or sitting and listening, or sitting and waiting. So he walked away from Ryan too. And Brendon, and he went to find Jon himself because he’d like to know why there wasn’t any conversation at breakfast this morning. And why Jon wouldn’t watch cheaply done, made-for-TV films on cable with him last night. Or why he just shook his head when Spencer tried to talk to him. Because bitch please, everyone has troubles but it’s not nice to keep them hidden.

They’re parked outside a ridiculous looking building. It’s kind of depressing actually, really old looking, but in a beautiful way, a good backdrop for a picture or something. But it’s small, and it’s all this town has to offer. Actually, it’s the only place for miles and miles and miles and miles, a couple of towns, a lot of people, and a lot of fans, maybe. They’ll play here tonight and they’ll be amazing, and Spencer will be amazing, because it’s what they do. Brendon will slide around the stage, and slink up to Ryan, who’ll be sweaty already, and wearing something stupid. They’ll molest each other and do something repulsive and Spencer will try not to laugh at them. And Jon, he’ll be distracting, because he’ll be really sweaty too. Because he moves around a lot and sings along, and on a good day, he’ll come and visit Spencer way over there at the back. Because it gets lonely being a drummer boy you know. They haven’t played in two nights, because the schedule is really spread. Slow and easy wins the race. They don’t seem to mind too much, small towns, small venues, small band.

There’s not an obvious place in Spencer’s mind that Jon would be. He could be anywhere, and the whole place is deserted so he can’t even ask anybody. It’s getting kind of old, this act that he’s pulling. This ‘stay away from Spencer’ idea he’s formed, because honestly, what the fuck. He wishes that there was someone around somewhere that could tell him where to maybe look, because right now he’s just turning around in the same spot. Spencer’s got nothing to lose, he tries logic, he thinks Jon may be inside this...concert hall. Because that’s what it looked like, and Spencer thought that maybe a string orchestra would be fitting to play here, instead of them. Or something like that.

It took forever to find him. Spencer was almost ready to give up. It was like Jon was pointedly avoiding him, Spencer would move from place to place and back again, only to stumble upon people who would point him to where he’d already been, about ten times. Round and round and round until he felt dizzy. This was two hours later. Two whole hours, and this place is small. Like crazy small. He just kept looking, until finally he found Jon. Sat on a huge black carry box (one of theirs?) drinking some water. They made eye contact, and then they didn’t, and Jon didn’t even looked surprised to see him, or very happy. But Spencer keeps walking towards him, and he’s going to do this. This shit is going down.

Then he’s there. Like right in front of him, and they don’t even say hi because Jon’s still drinking his water. And he’s kicking his heels backwards, forwards, but then he stops because Spencer is getting closer and closer. So he doesn’t get a “hi”, and he doesn’t get a wave or his Spencer only smile from Jon. He just gets a look over the top of the glass that Jon’s drinking, and Spencer kind of really wants to take it off him and throw it at a wall. So Spencer just stands there. He’s decided to wait this one out, and he’ll wait for another two hours for Jon to put his stupid glass down and pay some real attention to him, if he really has to, because Spencer has him trapped and he feels kind of empowered right now actually. And finally, finally! Jon’s looking at him.

“S’up?” And Spencer’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head to the side a little bit, and just looks at Jon really hard.

“What are you doing?” And it has two meanings, and Spencer hopes Jon knows this. He really does.

“Just you know...” And no he doesn’t. Jon ducks his head and his swings his feet backwards and forwards, forwards and backwards, and he looks really small right now, like a little kid or something. He looks up at Spencer for a second before smiling sheepishly. “...staying away from the bus.”
“Right.” It doesn’t make much sense, and maybe he’s reading too much into this, or not enough. It’s kind of really weird, even for him. But Jon’s looking at him like he used to, and Spencer falters, just for a second, his face softens. Jon’s found his niche now, his way inside and he’s going to run with it. So he jumps down from where he was sitting, and he was kind of high up but he’s graceful and he lands perfectly, right in front of Spencer. Directly in front of Spencer, actually, and if he leant forward just a little he could kiss him. Maybe.

But all he does is smile, a lot. For now.

“I’ve just been thinking, you know...” And he uncrosses his arms from his chest and just looks at him. And then he steps forward, disregarding any thought of personal space that Spencer might have (unlikely though, really). And he sees the look Spencer has now, and it’s unsure but he knows. He knows he knows he knows. Jon’s hands come to settle on his shoulders, because Jon’s that close.

“You have...” Spencer can’t move, but he’s not sure what’s going on and he’s questioning himself now. And that makes him angry, and nervous.
“I have. And I have a confession” Right, a confession. And oh my god, they’re alone and it’s kind of dark over here, Spencer knows, he knows. But he’s not even sure if he wants this anymore.

“I kind of really like you” And Spencer doesn’t even blink; he doesn’t have time, before he feels Jon on him. Kissing him. And he panics, because it’s perfect and everything he hoped it would be. But real life is nothing like what he comes up with in his mind and this is real and he’s terrified because he’s not sure if this is ok. And he doesn’t know what to do, this is a mess, a huge mess. He should be happy, but he’s not. He panics and he steps backwards away from Jon, and this is the second time he’s walked away from him. He’s cold all over, and Jon’s confused.
So Spencer just runs.

He kind of still doesn’t even want to think about it later that night while he’s hiding away trying to get ready for their show, so he’s trying to get his pants on and hide from Jon, and text Ryan and find out what to do and he’s doing too much. And he falls over, hard, backwards. His head hurts but he just lays there and stares at the ceiling and thinks, he really really thinks, and he kind of has an idea now. And then his phone bleeps.
Ryan as a matter of fact, sucks at giving advice. Or so Spencer thinks, because Get Over It wasn’t quite what he was looking for. So he asks Brendon, which maybe wasn’t such a good idea, because the boy fucking oozes romance and sunshine bursts from his arse or something ridiculous. Brendon is sugar and spice and it was always been like this. He’s an optimist; Brendon’s glass is always full to the brim. And when Spencer comes out of his hidey hole and goes to their actual dressing room, Jon’s not there. So Spencer can breathe again and recite his ordeal and it kind of makes Brendon surprised and maybe angry, Spencer can’t really tell. His eyes just go really wide and can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“What? Excuse me, what? That, Spencer Smith, is scandalous.” He points and stands and makes Ryan smile. It makes Spencer want to leave; he doesn’t want to play a stupid show in this stupid god forsaken town anymore. He wants to be back on the bus where the floor is moving under him, finally keeping time with the thoughts spinning round his head, and he can get lost and fall asleep and not think. Help, that’s all he wanted, because what do you even say to something like that? How is he meant to respond? It was a kiss, and it was what he wanted, but it wasn’t either because it was wrong. He did it wrong.

“Shut up, shut up. I wanted help, Brendon. Help, not idiocy.” He’s making his best bitch, please face and this is the Spencer he knew so well. This is the side of himself that he could remember easily, because people are confusing, and excuse me if he’s one of them.
All Brendon does is smile at him, and he’s sick of people doing that. He scowls as Brendon walks past him, and leaves because they’re due on any second now. Ryan goes on right behind him, passing by and patting Spencer’s shoulder, and at least Spencer doesn’t want to rip Ryan’s lips off and ram them down his throat when he sends a sympathetic smile waving in his direction. He waits for a few seconds and huffs, before turning on his heel and oh, shit. His heart stops and Jon’s right there. Right there in the door way and Spencer would like to cry right now, because he was so wrong. Jon looks hurt, maybe, and just not like Spencer ever remembers, and this wasn’t right. He won’t look at him he just won’t. Jon’s eyes are down and everything hurts and he can’t move, not an inch.

“We’ve got to go” And it’s quiet. And their roles are different, and Spencer needs to go to Jon now. He needs to. But he’s turning around, and Spencer needs to do it. Do it do it do it. Right now.

“Jon. Jon…” And it’s whiny and not really how it was meant to sound at all, but at least it’s honest. It doesn’t make a difference though, Jon’s turned away from him, and so he lunges forward and wraps his fingers around Jon’s wrist. And he can feel him, he can feel Jon, and Spencer feels warm again, for the first time in hours. Jon tugs his arm sharply, but Spencer won’t budge, he tugs sharply again, but Spencer just says his name. He doesn’t get a response, Jon’s whole body is tense and he wants the world to maybe swallow him up. Or make Spencer disappear. Either.
“No.” It’s cold, and it’s harsh and it’s also everything Spencer knows he deserves and was expecting, but it won’t stop him, because they both need this. He knows they do, they can’t just leave things as they are.

“Please...please...” and it’s maybe the first time he’s ever asked Jon for something serious. But maybe his chance with that has already gone, because Jon won’t turn around, he won’t. Spencer was wrong, he was so wrong and he feels sick and he wants to go home.
“You know what Spencer Smith? I can’t even look at you right now. So no. Just no, ok?” And it hurts, more than he ever thought words could. And he knows Jon means it, he’s bitter and hurt. And Spencer wants to tell him that ok, ok, he was having some trouble with himself, Ryan told him he was. But he says nothing, he just lets Jon’s wrist go. And Jon walks away for the first time ever, just like that.

The lights burn his eyes, and tonight he’s a very lonely drummer boy. He still feels sick, and it’s not even midnight yet but they’re back on the bus. Spencer feels a hundred years old, and he feels like he’s grown up in the past week so much. And don’t even ask him what the fuck he’s done, because he’s made a bit of a mess. But his mother always told him to clean up after himself. The floor is moving under them again, and Spencer’s lying down. The lights are out in the bunks, but he’s sure he’s the only one there. He declined Brendon and Ryan’s cautious offers of “movies Spence, movies...” devoted to feeling sorry for himself instead. So he’s just lying in the dark and he’s sick of thinking, and thinking.

And then he hears it. Just barely there, ruffling. He’s not alone, and he knows who it is. And he knows what he’s supposed to do now. He’s decided to turn his brain off, and stop being such an idiot because he’s been playing with Jon’s feelings and he hasn’t meant to. So he slowly, really, really slowly slides out of his bunk and he hopes so much that Jon doesn’t hear him, because he wants to get this right. He creeps over to where Jon’s bunk is and the curtains are drawn, so he crouches to be face to face and pulls to curtain back. Wide eyes and a look that Spencer can’t place meet him. Jon squashed into the corner, laid on his side facing outwards and this is perfect. Jon’s trapped and Spencer’s going to make him listen and he’s going to make everything ok. He promises.

“Hi...” and it’s nervous, and it doesn’t get a response, but ok, he’s totally expecting that. This is fine, he can do it.

“So, I’ve got a confession to make.” And he likes using Jon’s words because it makes this seem right. And Jon’s actually looking at him; the sting from his words from earlier is going away a little bit, because he’s looking Spencer right in the eye.

“I was wrong you know. And I ran away when you were trying to tell me something important. Trying to show me something important, and I didn’t mean it...” he should have practised this, because it’s not very smooth “...and I’m so, so sorry.” He doesn’t think words will do it, and he notices that Jon is really squashed in there good. So he goes on a whim and slowly, slow enough for Jon to object completely and shun him, he slides right in, right into that Spencer-sized gap in Jon’s bunk. It’s really dark, and their noses are touching, and this feels right this, it really does.
Jon’s eyes are flittering across his face, and his hand rests on Spencer’s hip, and this is how it should go. But still, Spencer isn’t sure he believes Jon when he whispers,

“It’s okay.”

It’s really kind of not though, you know? Not yet. Because Spencer promised to make everything right. So he leans forward and it’s intense and tender, and how first kisses are supposed to go. And this is ok, it really really is, because this is Jon, and this is them. And Spencer really got it right this time.


 
 
Current Location: never-never land
Current Mood: accomplishedaccomplished
Current Music: bleed american - jimmy eat world