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Sep. 27th, 2009 11:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
why_me_why_notLove Story
by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
why_me_why_not and ashlein
Brendon/Spencer || 6735 words
Disclaimer: Not ours, we're just amusing ourselves by making up lies.
AU of ridiculousness. It's not about Spencer, except for how it is. They’d only shared a handful of sentences, but it was someone who was talking to him because they wanted to, not for any other reason. It might not be all about Spencer as a person or a friend, but more about the idea of Spencer. Of being able to choose to be his friend without being told he can or can't, and that is all the difference.
A/N:ashlein started this, so I lay all the blame on her doorstep. irisgirl12000 loves me and did her best to make it more readable. All remaining mistakes, inaccuracies, and ridiciculousness belong to me and ashlein. Inspired loosely by Taylor Swift's Love Story.
It begins in a garden.
Dusk falls, casting shadows across the rose bushes. The scent of jasmine hangs in the air, swirling in the soft, cool summer breeze. The torches are lit, burning bright and steadfast, lining the drive and pathways leading up to the stone stairs and entrance way of Urie Manor. Ivy creeps and crawls along all available space, twisting and turning, spreading itself, climbing higher and higher.
Brendon watches the guests arrive, brightly colored silk dresses mingling with deep and rich colored suits, from his hiding spot on the eastern balcony. He's aware of Jon, his best friend, leaning silently against the archway, watching Brendon watch the arrivals. It's an easy silence, comfortable in the kind of way Brendon can only be with Jon. Although they partake of small talk and aimless chatter more often than not, neither is needed
Brendon watches for a little while longer, everyone blurring together in a rainbow of color and enthusiastic greeting, hiding the undertone that accompanies all of these sorts of events. The judging, the fake smiles, the under the table business deals. Waiting to see who will show up and with whom, who will cause the biggest scandal, who will go one step too far and be shunned from further gatherings.
Brendon knows his parents are inside, surveying their domain like a king and queen on their thrones. They aren't royalty, but in their social circle, where the elite and the beautiful come together, they might as well be.
And Brendon… well, Brendon is the reluctant prince.
Jon clears his throat, a signal, a reminder that time is getting on, and Brendon sighs, pulling his focus from the arrivals and onto the task at hand. He's dressed in his finest clothes, hair neat and tidy, shoes shined to within an inch of their life. He knows he's expected to work the party, dance with the pretty girls, promise them everything but give them nothing, be charming and funny and most of all, be a Urie.
Brendon knows what it means to be a Urie. He's just not sure he's ready give up who he is to achieve that.
Three hours later, Brendon is exhausted. He's danced and he's schmoozed and he's made every girl feel like the most important person in the room. He's done everything his parents have asked, nay demanded of him, and he's ready to take a break.
He catches Jon's eye from across the room, where Jon is talking to Tom, waving his hands to emphasize his point, and cocks his head in the direction of the garden. Jon nods once and turns back to his conversation.
Brendon sits underneath his favorite tree, a giant sprawling oak, and breathes in the summer air. It's warm, and Brendon is happy to find the garden deserted, happy for a few moments of blessed freedom to just be himself.
He's staring up at the stars when he hears footsteps approaching, followed by a noise of surprise. There is a boy standing above him, looking slightly nervous.
"Sorry. I didn't know anyone was out here."
Brendon nods, sits up straighter, and shrugs. "It's okay. I wasn't doing anything important. You're welcome to stay."
The boy fidgets for a moment, his blue eyes darting from Brendon to somewhere in the distance and back again. He finally appears to make a decision and then sits down next to Brendon on the ground.
"I'm Spencer." The boy holds out a hand and Brendon takes it, shaking it firmly when he says, "Brendon."
"Are you hiding from anyone in particular?" Spencer asks, smiling, and Brendon can't help but smile back when he shrugs his shoulders.
"There are only so many times I can dance a waltz before I start to lose my mind."
Spencer laughs and Brendon tries not to stare. "There are only so many times I can hear about the stock market before I want to scratch my eyes out."
"I honestly don't think I could care less about the rise and fall of share prices," Brendon agrees, and Spencer snorts. "In fact, the only thing I could care less about is whether or not Gracie May Johnson is having an affair with Harvey Launceston."
"I heard it was with Peter Jones from the market."
Brendon is about to reply when he hears the unmistakable sound of Jon clearing his throat. Sure enough, Jon is standing a few feet away, watching Brendon and Spencer with an unreadable expression.
"Hey, Jon, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my best friend Jon," Brendon introduces, and Jon and Spencer shake hands.
Jon is still looking at them both strangely but doesn't comment on how close they’re sitting or how it will look if anyone else were to walk up on them. Instead, he says to Brendon, "Your mother is looking for you, something about Isabella Samuels."
Brendon sighs, rubs at his eyes, and then struggles to his feet. "Well, duty calls," he states, brushing off his clothes, and then turning to Spencer, who is now looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes.
"It was nice to meet you, Spencer."
Spencer shakes Brendon's outstretched hand. "It was nice to meet you, too, Brendon."
Brendon and Jon are just out of hearing distance when Jon places a hand on Brendon's shoulder. "Brendon. You do know that was Spencer Smith, right?"
Brendon stares at Jon, and then glances over at Spencer, who is now sitting with his back to them. "What? Are you certain?"
Jon nods his head, squeezes Brendon's shoulder lightly, and then pulls his hand away.
"Well, that is entirely unfair. He seemed alright," Brendon replies with a sigh and, with one last glance back at Spencer, trails after Jon to rejoin the party.
**
“The problem with my parents,” Brendon tells Jon as they walk through the crowded market, Brendon's security guard/minder, Zack, following a few steps behind, “is that they don't seem to want to differentiate between responsibilities and actual hard and fast rules. They expect me to be friendly to everyone, tell me it's my responsibility, but then they want to choose who I can and can't be friends with and strike with an iron fist if I dare break their rules. They keep blurring the lines and making it harder and harder for me to do the right thing.”
"That's true, Bren. But what are you going to do about it? You won't leave them.” It's an argument that they've been having since they were twelve years old and Brendon had kissed a boy for the first time, a kiss which had been seen by a friend of the family who had no qualms about reporting back to Brendon's parents. Homosexuality was frowned upon, unless it was a means to an end, which is how Brendon's friends Pete and Patrick had ended up in an arranged marriage.
"And what do you suggest I do, Jon? Run away and live on the streets? I have no useful skills, nothing to offer the world that isn't charm and the ability to convince stupid girls that I'm interested in them, whilst secretly checking out their brothers."
Jon sighs and tugs Brendon into a one-armed hug, which is over before either of them are ready. Brendon hates not being able to show physical affection towards his friends in public for fear of it getting back to his parents.
"Is all of this because of this morning?" Jon asks, and Brendon shrugs. Word had gotten back that Brendon had been talking to Spencer Smith in the garden at the party the night before, and breakfast with his parents on the western balcony had been a stony affair, half spent in a cold silence, the other spent being yelled at and being accused of shaming the family name. The Uries only invited the Smith family to the party for appearances, but they would never associate with them in civilized society. The Smiths had taken in that heathen Ross child, even though he makes no effort to hide the fact he's... well, everyone knew he had had some sort of deviant relationship with one of those men from up north. Brendon was forbidden from having anything to do with Spencer or his family.
Jon had been eating breakfast by himself in the eastern wing of the manor, the wing that was inhabited by Brendon and himself, but he had heard every shout like he had been sitting in the same room.
"Bren." Jon's voice drops to a whisper. Even though they both trust Zack, there is a fine line between being someone's friend and being someone's co-conspirator and confidant. "If you want to go, we can. We have our savings, and Gabe said he'll help us."
Brendon shrugs again, not meeting Jon's eye. "It's not about Spencer."
"Maybe, maybe not. The point is, when do you get to be happy and make your own decisions?"
Brendon sighs. It's not about Spencer, except for how it is. They’d only shared a handful of sentences, but it was someone who was talking to him because they wanted to, not for any other reason. It might not be all about Spencer as a person or a friend, but more about the idea of Spencer. Of being able to choose to be his friend without being told he can or can't, and that is all the difference.
"Look, Bren. Your parents are great. They took me in and gave me a home and I'll always be thankful, but at the end of the day, you're my best friend and I love you. If you decide to do something about it, escape and live your own life, you have to know that when the dust settles, I'll be standing on your side. Right?" Jon's face is serious, and if they were anywhere else Brendon would be clinging to him, letting Jon wrap himself around him, trusting him to keep him safe. But they’re in public so Brendon nods his head, bumps Jon's shoulder with his own, and manages the best smile he can.
"I know."
**
Brendon is looking at the reams of fabric in one of the shops, letting it slide through his fingers. It’s soft, comfortable, and Brendon knows it would feel fantastic against his skin, but his parents would never let him wear anything made of such a garish color.
“That would look good on you.”
Brendon jumps, knocking a basket of buttons off the display rack behind him. He hears Zack say his name in frustration from across the room, then hears Jon’s voice, hushed and hurried, as he cuts Zack off. Brendon glances over his shoulder to make sure Zack is sufficiently distracted – Jon is seriously the best – before squatting down to pick up the buttons scattered across the floor. Spencer’s already picking them up.
“I apologize,” Spencer says, but he doesn’t sound very sorry.
“I’m not supposed to speak to you,” Brendon mumbles, trying to keep from meeting Spencer’s eyes. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks, and he knows Spencer is staring at him.
“And do you always do what you’re supposed to do, Brendon?
Brendon feels a giddy rush over Spencer remembering his name, which is silly. Of course Spencer knows Brendon’s name; everyone knows who Brendon is. It makes it hard for Brendon to get away with anything.
Spencer hands Brendon the buttons he’s collected, fingers brushing over Brendon’s. “Meet me later, after supper.”
Brendon glances nervously over his shoulder. Jon is still doing his best to stall Zack, but Zack isn’t going to let him do it too much longer. “I can’t,” he whispers miserably. “I’m not allowed out of the house on my own and Zack will never agree to it.” He looks up and gets caught in Spencer’s blue blue eyes.
“Try, Brendon. Please? There’s a stream that runs through the gardens behind your house. Meet me at the back wall.” He lays his hand over Brendon’s again just as Zack calls Brendon’s name.
Brendon looks up, feeling guilty and scrambling to come up with an explanation for Spencer. It proves unnecessary, though, because when he looks back, Spencer is gone. There’s only Zack and Jon, doing a poor job of hiding their laughter at Brendon’s unfailing clumsiness.
**
"What are you doing?"
Jon is standing in the entranceway to Brendon's bedroom, his arms folded across his chest. Brendon stares up at the ceiling and ignores him. It's late and getting later, but he can't bring himself to move from his bed.
"Tom says that Gabe says that you and Spencer have joined souls. I have no idea what that means, but I rarely do understand what Gabe's talking about."
Brendon still doesn’t react to him, even though he wants to. He knows Gabe is strange, but he’s honest. His convoluted truths can be trusted, if they can be figured out.
"Brendon."
Brendon rolls his eyes and sits up. "What, Jon? What do you want?"
Jon walks further into the room and sits on the end of Brendon's bed. "I want to know why you're throwing this away?"
"I'm not… there's nothing to throw away."
"There is, Brendon. Can't you see that? This is your chance to do something for yourself, something you want to do." Jon reaches out and squeezes Brendon's hand. “Don't let it pass you by."
Brendon looks down at the covers of his bed, at the rich texture and the beautiful fabric in the exact shade of red that his mother told him he would love, at the exact shade of red he despises. "What if I get caught?"
Jon grins. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
Jon leads Brendon through the house, down staircases and cold corridors, holding his hand tight. They stay as quiet as possible, creeping through the shadows that line the garden path until they reach the back wall of the Urie family's property. The garden is thicker here, making it easier to keep hidden, and Jon lets go of Brendon's hand and whispers, "I'll just be over there."
Jon walks further on, close enough that Brendon can still see him but distant enough to ensure Brendon's conversation is private. Brendon sits, listening to the sound of water trickle down the river just out of sight and waits.
Brendon doesn't know how long he waits, but he's about to give up and call Jon back over when he hears the sounds of leaves underfoot and a forced cough. "Brendon."
Spencer appears next to him, and Brendon can't help but jump a little, nervous energy thrumming through his body. "You're late."
"I apologize." Spencer smiles and sits next to Brendon on the slab of stone he'd claimed as a seat. "Thank you for being patient."
Brendon shrugs and looks at his shoes, a sudden sense of awkwardness falling over him. He feels Spencer nudge him with his elbow. "I didn't think you would come."
"I didn't think I was going to," Brendon admits.
"I'm glad you did."
Brendon looks up at Spencer, meeting his eyes for the first time. "Why did you want me to meet you?"
Spencer grins. "I wanted to finish our conversation. There’s something special about you,” he says quietly. "Would it be too presumptuous if I were to hold your hand?"
Brendon bites at his bottom lip and shakes his head, turning his hand palm up, smiling when Spencer slips his hand into Brendon’s.
**
“Ryan’s leaving.”
Brendon and Spencer are stretched out on the grass, not touching, staring up at the stars. Tonight, for the first time since their evening rendezvous started, Spencer was late, and seemed upset when he arrived Brendon hadn’t wanted to push.
“Oh.” Brendon’s not sure what to say. They don’t talk about Ryan. He’s heard about Spencer’s sisters and Spencer’s parents and Spencer’s great aunt Myrtle who is visiting from the city, but Ryan hasn’t come up. Brendon’s not sure who is responsible for that.
“He’s my best friend.” Spencer rolls onto his side. “He’s like my Jon.”
Brendon thinks that he hasn’t been fair. He’d hate to think that he couldn’t share Jon with Spencer. “Tell me about him.”
“I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position. I know Ryan is the reason your parents don’t like us, the reason my family has been shunned by most of the others around here.”
“Tell me,” Brendon repeats, rolling over to face Spencer. “I want to know.”
"Ryan has always been fanciful, living in his head more than in the real world. But he's older than I am, and thinks that means he's smarter. He's wrong, obviously, but he's stubborn as well. He... he was living with someone, a man in the city. When he and Alexander ended things, he had nowhere to go, so Mother insisted he come back with us, even though it would hurt our social standing."
"I like your mother." If Brendon sounds a little wistful, he hopes it doesn't show.
Spencer smiles. "She likes you too. She said you were completely charming the night of the party, and that she hopes your parents don't force that sparkle from your eyes." He adds hastily, "No offense intended, of course."
Brendon shakes his head. He's not offended.
"Anyway, Ryan's going back to the city. He was never meant for the type of life he has here." Spencer threads his fingers through Brendon's and looks down at their intertwined hands. "He wants me to go with him."
Brendon's breath catches. "When are you... I mean, are you going?"
Spencer looks into Brendon's eyes. "Would you come with me?"
Brendon is shaking his head before Spencer even finishes his question. It's not an option. Running away with Spencer, no matter how much he thinks he wants to, isn't a possibility.
"It's okay, Bren," Spencer says, scooting closer and pulling Brendon into a hug. "I'm not going with Ryan right now."
**
Brendon’s happier than he has been in a while. His parents seem to assume it’s because of the upcoming masquerade ball being held in honor of his eldest sister, and he’s content to let them keep on thinking that. And he’s admittedly excited the morning he sets out from the manor with Jon and Zack with the intention of finding a present for his sister.
His elation disappears when he catches sight of a familiar set of shoulders up ahead. Spencer. His step falters, causing Jon to give him a curious glance. Brendon shakes his head, trying to smile. He shouldn’t be upset, but he is. Spencer is his friend, maybe possibly something more than that, but only when they’re in the garden. Here in the marketplace in the middle of the day, they’re nothing.
Brendon has to pretend that he doesn’t know Spencer, pretend he doesn’t recognize his companion as Ryan Ross. He doesn’t have the right to walk up to them and give his opinion on the books they’re perusing.
Nothing.
Suddenly Brendon regrets this entire outing.
**
A short while later, Brendon is sulking in the back corner of one of the shops, watching as Zack talks to one of the ladies who works at the butcher shop. He doesn't see or hear Ross until he's directly in front of him, and Brendon stumbles back a step or so, wide-eyed and startled.
Ross gives Brendon what he thinks is supposed to be a smile, but it’s a little scary.
“Um, hello?” Brendon offers hesitantly.
“Look, I know you’re not supposed to talk to or be seen with me, but I’m leaving in the morning. Spencer says he’s staying. He says it’s because of his mother and the twins, but he’s been my best friend forever. He’s staying because of you.”
“I didn’t ask him to stay,” Brendon stammers, feeling guilty for keeping Spencer here.
Ross’s partial smile gets a little wider. “I didn’t say you did. Spencer never does what anyone else wants him to do. I just want to make sure you’ll look out for him. And don’t lead him on if you’re not serious, Brendon, because he is.”
Brendon doesn't have time to respond, barely has time to process what has been said before Ross nods at him and slips off into the crowd. A moment later, Jon steps up beside Brendon, a familiar, calming presence. "Who was that?"
Brendon shakes his head. He doesn't want to talk about it, because that means thinking about it.
Brendon does think about it, though. He doesn't bring it up to Jon, because he knows Jon will put Brendon first. Jon will talk Brendon into leaving if he thinks that’s what Brendon wants, but Brendon’s not willing to drag Jon down with him. He really needs to be sure of his own feelings and make his own decision before he presents the situation to Jon.
The night of the masquerade ball, Brendon tries to be happy. He loves his sister. He loves his family, even if they don’t always view the world the same way. But it’s hard, standing by the window with Jon and watching the line of couples coming in to the party. Everyone has gone all out, bright colors and sparkly material, all of it layered under a blanket of secrecy. It should be exciting, but for Brendon it really just means he doesn’t have to try and remember everyone’s names because their identities are meant to be secret.
He sneaks off after a number of dances, claiming he needs a rest, and stakes out a far corner of the room. It’s not long before Jon joins him, and Zack’s not far away. The two of them haven’t let Brendon out of their sight for days. Jon says he’s worried about the way Brendon’s moping, but that just makes Brendon want to keep his feelings even closer to his chest. He finally convinces Jon that he’s perfectly fine on his own and Jon makes his way back to Tom.
Brendon is sulking in the corner. He's completely aware that Jon is watching him, and he's not blind enough that he doesn't notice the way his mother keeps shooting him looks from across the room. He’s staring at his feet because if he can't see them looking then he doesn't have to acknowledge that they know he's miserable. He looks up when a pair of shoes appear in front of him, a hand slipping into his and tugging him toward the dancefloor. Brendon knows the second that he looks into the eyes of his mystery partner that it's Spencer. He can tell by his blue eyes, the way his lips turn up into a smile, the slightly calloused skin on his hands. Spencer grins and bows, and Brendon nods his head in response, placing his hand on Spencer's shoulder wordlessly.
Brendon worries for half a second about what will be said, what his parents will say about him dancing with another boy, but he can see Jon out of the corner of his eye. Jon pulls Tom away from the girls they’ve been talking to and leads him out onto the floor. Jon and Tom both like to pretend like they’re suave and sophisticated, but they are not. The two of them dancing together involves a lot of tripping over their own feet as well as one another’s. Any other time, Brendon would be highly amused, but tonight he’s just grateful that they’re detracting attention from Brendon, making it look like they’re all just causing mischief. Brendon’s parents will still have something to say, but it won’t be as bad.
Brendon and Spencer don’t speak while they dance. It would be too easy for someone to overhear, and Brendon's fairly certain that if Spencer speaks, he's going to smile and then his parents will know. They only dance for two dances, just enough for Brendon to feel cheated when Spencer bows and whispers, "Meet me on the west balcony."
Brendon nods and Spencer disappears into the crowd. Jon comes up to Brendon, looking incredibly smug. “What was that about?”
Brendon's trying not to smile when he looks at Jon and answers, "Spencer."
Jon smiles like he already knew that. "You knew it was Spencer before he even said anything to you? And that doesn't tell you something?"
Brendon thinks for a moment. "...oh." His breath catches and he looks up at Jon, feeling overwhelmingly surprised. “I'm in love with Spencer."
Jon throws his hands up in the air and has to walk away for a minute. He turns around shaking his head. “Brendon. What did you think was going on here?”
“I don’t know! I thought we were friends! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jon starts laughing and Brendon scowls at him. He knows the effect is ruined by his own mask, but he’s pretty sure he gets his point across. If not, he’ll deal with it later. He has to meet Spencer.
Spencer is waiting in the shadows of the balcony and he smiles, bright and happy, when Brendon appears. Brendon feels awkward because he’s still coming to terms with his recent revelation. Apparently Jon and Spencer have known this for a while, but nobody found it necessary to point it out to Brendon.
Spencer steps closer to Brendon. “I know I’m not supposed to be here; your parents made it clear that my family isn’t welcome. But I wanted to see you, and to give you this.” He pulls out a small pouch and places it in Brendon’s hand.
Brendon looks down at the pouch in his hand, turning it over and over. It's expensive looking and the fabric feels similar to the one he'd been admiring that first day in the marketplace. He’s a little confused but also a bit excited. “What is it?"
"Open it."
Brendon opens the pouch carefully and tips the contents into his hand. It's a woven bracelet, and Brendon holds it closer to his face so he can see. The fabric has been embroidered, an S and B carefully intertwined. “It's beautiful," Brendon says quietly, rolling it over carefully in his hands.
"I had hoped, if it isn't too presumptuous, that you would wear it. Under your sleeve of course, but I hoped that you would accept it as a symbol of my intentions."
Brendon is aware of Spencer watching him as he examines the bracelet, so he takes a shaky breath and hands it back to Spencer. "I—, can you put it on me?"
Brendon rolls up his sleeve and holds out his bare wrist. He flinches a little when Spencer's fingers brush his skin, and he blushes when Spencer grins at him as he ties the bracelet.
**
Several nights pass before Brendon is able to sneak out to the garden. At first it's because his parents are watching over him more closely than usual. They weren't very happy with the display Brendon and his friends put on at the masquerade, dancing with one another when there were so many pretty, available girls at the party.
Then, Jon comes down with something and is confined to his bed. There are the usual arguments where Brendon's mother tries to keep him out of the sick room and Brendon refuses, but things calm down considerably after that. Brendon likes being able to hide out in Jon's room all day, even if Jon is asleep for most of it. At the end of the third night, though, Jon insists that Brendon go meet Spencer.
"Really, Brendon," Jon says. Brendon can see he's trying hard not to laugh because it will bring another coughing fit. "All I've heard all day is "Spencer this" and "Spencer that" and "Spencer says". Go! Make your plans for our future, come back with a smile on your face. I expect details."
"But you're sick," Brendon points out. He doesn't want to leave Jon alone; he doesn't think that's a good show of friendship."
"I'm going to be sleeping," Jon says. "I promise, I won't even know you're gone, except for the fact it'll be quiet in here."
So Brendon relents and makes his way to the garden, where Spencer is already waiting.
"I didn't think you were coming," Spencer says, but something about his smile and the way he says it seems wrong to Brendon. He hopes Spencer isn't having second thoughts, not so soon after Brendon figured out his own feelings.
"I'm sorry. My parents were upset over the dancing, and Jon's been sick," Brendon explains. He doesn't want Spencer to think he's been staying away without reason.
Spencer reaches for Brendon's hand as soon as he's close enough. "Is Jon better now?" he asks, the warm concern obvious in his voice.
Brendon finds it hard to believe it took him so long to admit he was in love with Spencer. Spencer cares about Brendon and his life and his friends in a way that Brendon's not used to.
"No, but he kicked me out of his room." Brendon takes a deep breath, rallying his courage before he rushes on, "He said for me to come talk to you and figure out our future."
Spencer grins. "So you will come away with me?"
Brendon nods. "Jon too. I can't – I won't go without him. I hope you can understand that."
Spencer takes Brendon's hand and squeezes. "I would never ask you to leave Jon behind. He is important to you. Therefore, he is important to me."
Brendon smiles. "Where will we go?"
"We can stay with Ryan. He won't mind, and it will give us time to get on our feet. Gabe Saporta spoke to me about some associates he has that might have jobs for us." Spencer shifts closer to Brendon. "It won't be easy, Brendon, but I promise that we’ll be safe and we’ll be together."
"I'm not… I don't need all of this stuff, Spencer. I'm born into it, but it's not me."
"I know that. I just want you to know what we're in for. I promise you, though, I will do everything in my power to make you happy."
Brendon takes a deep breath and figures it's now or never. "You do. Make me happy, that is."
Spencer doesn’t answer, just brings a hand up to cup Brendon’s cheek, leans in to press their lips together. Brendon’s a little surprised and barely has time to react before Spencer pulls back a little, eyes searching Brendon’s for something. He whispers Brendon’s name and swipes his thumb over Brendon’s lips, following it with his tongue. Brendon closes his eyes and relaxes into Spencer’s touch, into the soft, sweet, mostly-chaste kisses. He wants to lean against Spencer, to take more, to give more. He’s almost scared by how much he wants to do with Spencer, things he hadn’t even thought of before, and the light kisses they’re sharing are just whetting his appetite. Soon, though, he tells himself when Spencer pulls away again. Soon they’ll be able to do whatever they want. His eyes flutter open and Spencer’s watching him, biting his lip. Brendon grins at him. He wants to tell Spencer he loves him, wants to put the words out there between them, but he’s not sure he’s supposed to. “Lay with me for a while before you go home?”
“Just for a little while.”
They stretch out in the grass again, watching the clouds sliding across the sky, blowing in the storms from the east. Brendon’s not sure how close he should lay, how close would be appropriate.
“Brendon.”
Brendon turns his head to look at Spencer.
“I promise I will be good to you.”
Brendon nods. “I trust you.”
Brendon knows he should really get up and go inside, let Spencer go home, but he's perfectly content lying here, timing his breaths to Spencer's and thinking that it is possibly for them to work out a way for everyone to be happy. He's got a smile on his face when he drifts off to sleep.
Brendon wakes up to the sound of his mother’s voice yelling, and he can’t sort out why she’s in his room or what he’s done this time. Then he realizes where he is and, more importantly, who he’s with. His eyes fly open and he scrambles to his feet. Spencer is only seconds behind him, and he takes firm hold of Brendon’s hand. Brendon knows that is going to make everything so much worse, but he can’t let go, can’t lose that connection of strength.
Brendon’s firs thought is that his mother is crying. Brendon made her cry. "What is going on, Brendon? What are you doing with this..." She glares at Spencer. "What are you doing? You were forbidden from associating with him. Did I not make myself clear?"
Brendon can't speak. He doesn't know what to say.
Spencer finally speaks up, stepping slightly in front of Brendon. "Mrs. Urie, please, I can—"
Brendon's mother holds her hand up and doesn't even look in Spencer’s direction. “I do not need to hear excuses. I especially do not need them from someone like you."
Brendon looks at Spencer and then his mother. "Someone like what?" he asks quietly.
"He is beneath us, Brendon. You are a Urie, and you will not associate with this—" She doesn't finish the insult, but Brendon isn't an idiot and he feels a flush of anger.
"I don't care about being a Urie. I'm sorry, mother. I love you and I love father, but I also love Spencer. If you can't accept that, then you can't accept me."
“Brendon!”
His name comes like an echo, three voices hailing him at once. He turns to Spencer first, because he’s closest.
“I’m going to go, before we make this worse, but I’ll make everything right, I promise. I love you.” He squeezes Brendon’s hand and looks as if he’s considering sealing his promise with a kiss. Brendon almost wishes he would, but he doesn’t.
After he walks off, Brendon takes a deep breath and pushes past his mother, going to Jon. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he says, wrapping an arm around Jon’s shoulder and turning him back toward the manor house. He ignores his mother calling after him – seriously, Jon is outside in his pajamas when he’s sick, that’s a little more important right now – and neither he nor Jon speak until they’re back in Jon’s room.
“I’m sorry, Bren, I’m so so sorry,” Jon’s voice is shaky and earnest. “I heard her yelling and I came as quickly as I could, but I never should have let you go alone.”
Brendon’s trying hard enough to not cry as it is, and Jon’s just making it worse. “Don’t, Jon,” Brendon says harshly. “Just… just shut up.”
Brendon still lets Jon wrap him up in a hug, takes the comfort he offers. They curl up in Jon’s bed, Brendon beyond caring whether or not he gets sick. Brendon lays awake for a long time after Jon has fallen asleep, playing with the bracelet tucked safely underneath his sleeve and telling himself that he has to trust Spencer to make it right.
**
Brendon is confined to his bedroom, something he thought he outgrew years ago. Not that it matters; he wouldn’t be allowed outside today anyway. He watches the raindrops slide down the window, the sky outside looking as gloomy as Brendon feels. The rain doesn’t let up for more than a week.
There’s no sign of Spencer.
Weeks pass without a word from him. After the weather clears, Brendon waits in the garden every night, just in case. He’s sullen and silent at the family dinners, quiet even when it’s just him and Jon. Jon goes over to the Smiths’ one day, but he comes back with the news that Spencer’s sisters claim he’s gone away.
Brendon’s birthday is, as always, a lavish affair. He doesn’t feel like celebrating, doesn’t want to be here, faking his way through the evening just so he can keep being miserable. He puts in as little time as possible, letting the daughters of his parents’ friends fawn all over him, before escaping outside with Jon.
Spencer shows up when Jon and Brendon are on the balcony. Brendon really really just wants to run to him, but he holds firm, stepping a little behind Jon. Jon will hold him back if his resolve weakens. Jon’s a good friend.
“Brendon, I’m sorry.” He does actually sound apologetic this time. “I had to leave, to get some things in order. I would have sent word, but I didn’t think you’d get it.”
Brendon shakes his head. “You could have left a note or something.”
“I did. I left a note in the garden, but my sisters said it started raining the night I left and everything flooded. They said Jon came looking for me; that’s how I knew you didn’t get the note.”
Brendon studies the scuffed toes of the shoes, worn from where he’s been kicking the wall of the balcony.
“I have a house, Brendon. In the city, big enough for all of us, and jobs lined up through a friend of Ryan’s. It’s nothing glamorous, and it won’t be the easy life you’re accustomed to, but we’ll be together.”
Brendon squeezes Jon’s hand. He wants this, for all of them, but he can’t. He can’t.
“I talked to your father.”
“Did he…”
Spencer laughs. “He told me he’d set the dogs on me if I came near you.”
“Then why are you here?”
Spencer steps closer to them. “Come with me. Tonight, now. Please, Brendon.”
Brendon looks at Jon. Jon grins. “Just let me go grab Dylan.”
“Got it covered.”
The three of them jump apart guiltily. Zack rolls his eyes and tosses a sack to each of them. “You didn’t think I’d let you go off without me, did you? There is no telling what kind of trouble you three would get in.”
There’s a faint meow from Jon’s bag, and he shifts it around a little so Dylan can poke his head out of the bag. He would probably be glaring at Zack if things were different. Heck, Brendon would normally be glaring at Zack for putting Dylan in a sack and then tossing him around, but they don’t have time for that right now.
Spencer holds out his hand, and Brendon takes it.
**
The blurred edges of his dream still lingers as Brendon makes his way through the college grounds. He has his Music Composition notebook under one arm and is texting Jon with his free hand.
dude hd strngst drm lst nite. was like romeo n juliet only w'out the dying bllshit.
were u romeo or juliet? also haha were u wearing tights?
fuck u dude my ass'd look awesome in tights. u were my bff and helped me elope with a really hot dude.
i AM ur bff dick. how hot r we talking?
10.
awesome. c u at dinner?
macaroni?
pizza.
no anchovies dude.
<3
Brendon pushes his phone back in his pocket and flops down onto the cool ground. The University had planted a Tranquility Garden a few years back, a sort of peaceful safe haven for those who wanted to sit outside and not get smacked in the head by flying footballs and other random paraphernalia. Brendon loves to sit under one of the sprawling oak trees, take in the scent of jasmine that lingers in the air, and work on his music composition projects.
He looks up when a shadow falls over him and then sucks in a breath at the wave of déjà vu that crashes over him. The blue eyes looking back at him are accompanied by an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone was here."
Brendon stares until the guy turns to leave. He snaps out of it, opens his mouth, and the words tumble out. "It's okay. I wasn't doing anything important. You're welcome to stay."
The guy sits down next to Brendon and holds out a hand. "I'm Spencer."
Brendon tries to steady his visibly shaking hand before placing it in Spencer's outstretched one. "Brendon."
And there it is, that blinding smile from his dream, set against the face from his dream and the feeling of déjà vu is overwhelming.
It begins in a garden...
by
why_me_why_not and ashleinBrendon/Spencer || 6735 words
Disclaimer: Not ours, we're just amusing ourselves by making up lies.
AU of ridiculousness. It's not about Spencer, except for how it is. They’d only shared a handful of sentences, but it was someone who was talking to him because they wanted to, not for any other reason. It might not be all about Spencer as a person or a friend, but more about the idea of Spencer. Of being able to choose to be his friend without being told he can or can't, and that is all the difference.
A/N:
ashlein started this, so I lay all the blame on her doorstep. irisgirl12000 loves me and did her best to make it more readable. All remaining mistakes, inaccuracies, and ridiciculousness belong to me and ashlein. Inspired loosely by Taylor Swift's Love Story.It begins in a garden.
Dusk falls, casting shadows across the rose bushes. The scent of jasmine hangs in the air, swirling in the soft, cool summer breeze. The torches are lit, burning bright and steadfast, lining the drive and pathways leading up to the stone stairs and entrance way of Urie Manor. Ivy creeps and crawls along all available space, twisting and turning, spreading itself, climbing higher and higher.
Brendon watches the guests arrive, brightly colored silk dresses mingling with deep and rich colored suits, from his hiding spot on the eastern balcony. He's aware of Jon, his best friend, leaning silently against the archway, watching Brendon watch the arrivals. It's an easy silence, comfortable in the kind of way Brendon can only be with Jon. Although they partake of small talk and aimless chatter more often than not, neither is needed
Brendon watches for a little while longer, everyone blurring together in a rainbow of color and enthusiastic greeting, hiding the undertone that accompanies all of these sorts of events. The judging, the fake smiles, the under the table business deals. Waiting to see who will show up and with whom, who will cause the biggest scandal, who will go one step too far and be shunned from further gatherings.
Brendon knows his parents are inside, surveying their domain like a king and queen on their thrones. They aren't royalty, but in their social circle, where the elite and the beautiful come together, they might as well be.
And Brendon… well, Brendon is the reluctant prince.
Jon clears his throat, a signal, a reminder that time is getting on, and Brendon sighs, pulling his focus from the arrivals and onto the task at hand. He's dressed in his finest clothes, hair neat and tidy, shoes shined to within an inch of their life. He knows he's expected to work the party, dance with the pretty girls, promise them everything but give them nothing, be charming and funny and most of all, be a Urie.
Brendon knows what it means to be a Urie. He's just not sure he's ready give up who he is to achieve that.
Three hours later, Brendon is exhausted. He's danced and he's schmoozed and he's made every girl feel like the most important person in the room. He's done everything his parents have asked, nay demanded of him, and he's ready to take a break.
He catches Jon's eye from across the room, where Jon is talking to Tom, waving his hands to emphasize his point, and cocks his head in the direction of the garden. Jon nods once and turns back to his conversation.
Brendon sits underneath his favorite tree, a giant sprawling oak, and breathes in the summer air. It's warm, and Brendon is happy to find the garden deserted, happy for a few moments of blessed freedom to just be himself.
He's staring up at the stars when he hears footsteps approaching, followed by a noise of surprise. There is a boy standing above him, looking slightly nervous.
"Sorry. I didn't know anyone was out here."
Brendon nods, sits up straighter, and shrugs. "It's okay. I wasn't doing anything important. You're welcome to stay."
The boy fidgets for a moment, his blue eyes darting from Brendon to somewhere in the distance and back again. He finally appears to make a decision and then sits down next to Brendon on the ground.
"I'm Spencer." The boy holds out a hand and Brendon takes it, shaking it firmly when he says, "Brendon."
"Are you hiding from anyone in particular?" Spencer asks, smiling, and Brendon can't help but smile back when he shrugs his shoulders.
"There are only so many times I can dance a waltz before I start to lose my mind."
Spencer laughs and Brendon tries not to stare. "There are only so many times I can hear about the stock market before I want to scratch my eyes out."
"I honestly don't think I could care less about the rise and fall of share prices," Brendon agrees, and Spencer snorts. "In fact, the only thing I could care less about is whether or not Gracie May Johnson is having an affair with Harvey Launceston."
"I heard it was with Peter Jones from the market."
Brendon is about to reply when he hears the unmistakable sound of Jon clearing his throat. Sure enough, Jon is standing a few feet away, watching Brendon and Spencer with an unreadable expression.
"Hey, Jon, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my best friend Jon," Brendon introduces, and Jon and Spencer shake hands.
Jon is still looking at them both strangely but doesn't comment on how close they’re sitting or how it will look if anyone else were to walk up on them. Instead, he says to Brendon, "Your mother is looking for you, something about Isabella Samuels."
Brendon sighs, rubs at his eyes, and then struggles to his feet. "Well, duty calls," he states, brushing off his clothes, and then turning to Spencer, who is now looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes.
"It was nice to meet you, Spencer."
Spencer shakes Brendon's outstretched hand. "It was nice to meet you, too, Brendon."
Brendon and Jon are just out of hearing distance when Jon places a hand on Brendon's shoulder. "Brendon. You do know that was Spencer Smith, right?"
Brendon stares at Jon, and then glances over at Spencer, who is now sitting with his back to them. "What? Are you certain?"
Jon nods his head, squeezes Brendon's shoulder lightly, and then pulls his hand away.
"Well, that is entirely unfair. He seemed alright," Brendon replies with a sigh and, with one last glance back at Spencer, trails after Jon to rejoin the party.
**
“The problem with my parents,” Brendon tells Jon as they walk through the crowded market, Brendon's security guard/minder, Zack, following a few steps behind, “is that they don't seem to want to differentiate between responsibilities and actual hard and fast rules. They expect me to be friendly to everyone, tell me it's my responsibility, but then they want to choose who I can and can't be friends with and strike with an iron fist if I dare break their rules. They keep blurring the lines and making it harder and harder for me to do the right thing.”
"That's true, Bren. But what are you going to do about it? You won't leave them.” It's an argument that they've been having since they were twelve years old and Brendon had kissed a boy for the first time, a kiss which had been seen by a friend of the family who had no qualms about reporting back to Brendon's parents. Homosexuality was frowned upon, unless it was a means to an end, which is how Brendon's friends Pete and Patrick had ended up in an arranged marriage.
"And what do you suggest I do, Jon? Run away and live on the streets? I have no useful skills, nothing to offer the world that isn't charm and the ability to convince stupid girls that I'm interested in them, whilst secretly checking out their brothers."
Jon sighs and tugs Brendon into a one-armed hug, which is over before either of them are ready. Brendon hates not being able to show physical affection towards his friends in public for fear of it getting back to his parents.
"Is all of this because of this morning?" Jon asks, and Brendon shrugs. Word had gotten back that Brendon had been talking to Spencer Smith in the garden at the party the night before, and breakfast with his parents on the western balcony had been a stony affair, half spent in a cold silence, the other spent being yelled at and being accused of shaming the family name. The Uries only invited the Smith family to the party for appearances, but they would never associate with them in civilized society. The Smiths had taken in that heathen Ross child, even though he makes no effort to hide the fact he's... well, everyone knew he had had some sort of deviant relationship with one of those men from up north. Brendon was forbidden from having anything to do with Spencer or his family.
Jon had been eating breakfast by himself in the eastern wing of the manor, the wing that was inhabited by Brendon and himself, but he had heard every shout like he had been sitting in the same room.
"Bren." Jon's voice drops to a whisper. Even though they both trust Zack, there is a fine line between being someone's friend and being someone's co-conspirator and confidant. "If you want to go, we can. We have our savings, and Gabe said he'll help us."
Brendon shrugs again, not meeting Jon's eye. "It's not about Spencer."
"Maybe, maybe not. The point is, when do you get to be happy and make your own decisions?"
Brendon sighs. It's not about Spencer, except for how it is. They’d only shared a handful of sentences, but it was someone who was talking to him because they wanted to, not for any other reason. It might not be all about Spencer as a person or a friend, but more about the idea of Spencer. Of being able to choose to be his friend without being told he can or can't, and that is all the difference.
"Look, Bren. Your parents are great. They took me in and gave me a home and I'll always be thankful, but at the end of the day, you're my best friend and I love you. If you decide to do something about it, escape and live your own life, you have to know that when the dust settles, I'll be standing on your side. Right?" Jon's face is serious, and if they were anywhere else Brendon would be clinging to him, letting Jon wrap himself around him, trusting him to keep him safe. But they’re in public so Brendon nods his head, bumps Jon's shoulder with his own, and manages the best smile he can.
"I know."
**
Brendon is looking at the reams of fabric in one of the shops, letting it slide through his fingers. It’s soft, comfortable, and Brendon knows it would feel fantastic against his skin, but his parents would never let him wear anything made of such a garish color.
“That would look good on you.”
Brendon jumps, knocking a basket of buttons off the display rack behind him. He hears Zack say his name in frustration from across the room, then hears Jon’s voice, hushed and hurried, as he cuts Zack off. Brendon glances over his shoulder to make sure Zack is sufficiently distracted – Jon is seriously the best – before squatting down to pick up the buttons scattered across the floor. Spencer’s already picking them up.
“I apologize,” Spencer says, but he doesn’t sound very sorry.
“I’m not supposed to speak to you,” Brendon mumbles, trying to keep from meeting Spencer’s eyes. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks, and he knows Spencer is staring at him.
“And do you always do what you’re supposed to do, Brendon?
Brendon feels a giddy rush over Spencer remembering his name, which is silly. Of course Spencer knows Brendon’s name; everyone knows who Brendon is. It makes it hard for Brendon to get away with anything.
Spencer hands Brendon the buttons he’s collected, fingers brushing over Brendon’s. “Meet me later, after supper.”
Brendon glances nervously over his shoulder. Jon is still doing his best to stall Zack, but Zack isn’t going to let him do it too much longer. “I can’t,” he whispers miserably. “I’m not allowed out of the house on my own and Zack will never agree to it.” He looks up and gets caught in Spencer’s blue blue eyes.
“Try, Brendon. Please? There’s a stream that runs through the gardens behind your house. Meet me at the back wall.” He lays his hand over Brendon’s again just as Zack calls Brendon’s name.
Brendon looks up, feeling guilty and scrambling to come up with an explanation for Spencer. It proves unnecessary, though, because when he looks back, Spencer is gone. There’s only Zack and Jon, doing a poor job of hiding their laughter at Brendon’s unfailing clumsiness.
**
"What are you doing?"
Jon is standing in the entranceway to Brendon's bedroom, his arms folded across his chest. Brendon stares up at the ceiling and ignores him. It's late and getting later, but he can't bring himself to move from his bed.
"Tom says that Gabe says that you and Spencer have joined souls. I have no idea what that means, but I rarely do understand what Gabe's talking about."
Brendon still doesn’t react to him, even though he wants to. He knows Gabe is strange, but he’s honest. His convoluted truths can be trusted, if they can be figured out.
"Brendon."
Brendon rolls his eyes and sits up. "What, Jon? What do you want?"
Jon walks further into the room and sits on the end of Brendon's bed. "I want to know why you're throwing this away?"
"I'm not… there's nothing to throw away."
"There is, Brendon. Can't you see that? This is your chance to do something for yourself, something you want to do." Jon reaches out and squeezes Brendon's hand. “Don't let it pass you by."
Brendon looks down at the covers of his bed, at the rich texture and the beautiful fabric in the exact shade of red that his mother told him he would love, at the exact shade of red he despises. "What if I get caught?"
Jon grins. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
Jon leads Brendon through the house, down staircases and cold corridors, holding his hand tight. They stay as quiet as possible, creeping through the shadows that line the garden path until they reach the back wall of the Urie family's property. The garden is thicker here, making it easier to keep hidden, and Jon lets go of Brendon's hand and whispers, "I'll just be over there."
Jon walks further on, close enough that Brendon can still see him but distant enough to ensure Brendon's conversation is private. Brendon sits, listening to the sound of water trickle down the river just out of sight and waits.
Brendon doesn't know how long he waits, but he's about to give up and call Jon back over when he hears the sounds of leaves underfoot and a forced cough. "Brendon."
Spencer appears next to him, and Brendon can't help but jump a little, nervous energy thrumming through his body. "You're late."
"I apologize." Spencer smiles and sits next to Brendon on the slab of stone he'd claimed as a seat. "Thank you for being patient."
Brendon shrugs and looks at his shoes, a sudden sense of awkwardness falling over him. He feels Spencer nudge him with his elbow. "I didn't think you would come."
"I didn't think I was going to," Brendon admits.
"I'm glad you did."
Brendon looks up at Spencer, meeting his eyes for the first time. "Why did you want me to meet you?"
Spencer grins. "I wanted to finish our conversation. There’s something special about you,” he says quietly. "Would it be too presumptuous if I were to hold your hand?"
Brendon bites at his bottom lip and shakes his head, turning his hand palm up, smiling when Spencer slips his hand into Brendon’s.
**
“Ryan’s leaving.”
Brendon and Spencer are stretched out on the grass, not touching, staring up at the stars. Tonight, for the first time since their evening rendezvous started, Spencer was late, and seemed upset when he arrived Brendon hadn’t wanted to push.
“Oh.” Brendon’s not sure what to say. They don’t talk about Ryan. He’s heard about Spencer’s sisters and Spencer’s parents and Spencer’s great aunt Myrtle who is visiting from the city, but Ryan hasn’t come up. Brendon’s not sure who is responsible for that.
“He’s my best friend.” Spencer rolls onto his side. “He’s like my Jon.”
Brendon thinks that he hasn’t been fair. He’d hate to think that he couldn’t share Jon with Spencer. “Tell me about him.”
“I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position. I know Ryan is the reason your parents don’t like us, the reason my family has been shunned by most of the others around here.”
“Tell me,” Brendon repeats, rolling over to face Spencer. “I want to know.”
"Ryan has always been fanciful, living in his head more than in the real world. But he's older than I am, and thinks that means he's smarter. He's wrong, obviously, but he's stubborn as well. He... he was living with someone, a man in the city. When he and Alexander ended things, he had nowhere to go, so Mother insisted he come back with us, even though it would hurt our social standing."
"I like your mother." If Brendon sounds a little wistful, he hopes it doesn't show.
Spencer smiles. "She likes you too. She said you were completely charming the night of the party, and that she hopes your parents don't force that sparkle from your eyes." He adds hastily, "No offense intended, of course."
Brendon shakes his head. He's not offended.
"Anyway, Ryan's going back to the city. He was never meant for the type of life he has here." Spencer threads his fingers through Brendon's and looks down at their intertwined hands. "He wants me to go with him."
Brendon's breath catches. "When are you... I mean, are you going?"
Spencer looks into Brendon's eyes. "Would you come with me?"
Brendon is shaking his head before Spencer even finishes his question. It's not an option. Running away with Spencer, no matter how much he thinks he wants to, isn't a possibility.
"It's okay, Bren," Spencer says, scooting closer and pulling Brendon into a hug. "I'm not going with Ryan right now."
**
Brendon’s happier than he has been in a while. His parents seem to assume it’s because of the upcoming masquerade ball being held in honor of his eldest sister, and he’s content to let them keep on thinking that. And he’s admittedly excited the morning he sets out from the manor with Jon and Zack with the intention of finding a present for his sister.
His elation disappears when he catches sight of a familiar set of shoulders up ahead. Spencer. His step falters, causing Jon to give him a curious glance. Brendon shakes his head, trying to smile. He shouldn’t be upset, but he is. Spencer is his friend, maybe possibly something more than that, but only when they’re in the garden. Here in the marketplace in the middle of the day, they’re nothing.
Brendon has to pretend that he doesn’t know Spencer, pretend he doesn’t recognize his companion as Ryan Ross. He doesn’t have the right to walk up to them and give his opinion on the books they’re perusing.
Nothing.
Suddenly Brendon regrets this entire outing.
**
A short while later, Brendon is sulking in the back corner of one of the shops, watching as Zack talks to one of the ladies who works at the butcher shop. He doesn't see or hear Ross until he's directly in front of him, and Brendon stumbles back a step or so, wide-eyed and startled.
Ross gives Brendon what he thinks is supposed to be a smile, but it’s a little scary.
“Um, hello?” Brendon offers hesitantly.
“Look, I know you’re not supposed to talk to or be seen with me, but I’m leaving in the morning. Spencer says he’s staying. He says it’s because of his mother and the twins, but he’s been my best friend forever. He’s staying because of you.”
“I didn’t ask him to stay,” Brendon stammers, feeling guilty for keeping Spencer here.
Ross’s partial smile gets a little wider. “I didn’t say you did. Spencer never does what anyone else wants him to do. I just want to make sure you’ll look out for him. And don’t lead him on if you’re not serious, Brendon, because he is.”
Brendon doesn't have time to respond, barely has time to process what has been said before Ross nods at him and slips off into the crowd. A moment later, Jon steps up beside Brendon, a familiar, calming presence. "Who was that?"
Brendon shakes his head. He doesn't want to talk about it, because that means thinking about it.
Brendon does think about it, though. He doesn't bring it up to Jon, because he knows Jon will put Brendon first. Jon will talk Brendon into leaving if he thinks that’s what Brendon wants, but Brendon’s not willing to drag Jon down with him. He really needs to be sure of his own feelings and make his own decision before he presents the situation to Jon.
The night of the masquerade ball, Brendon tries to be happy. He loves his sister. He loves his family, even if they don’t always view the world the same way. But it’s hard, standing by the window with Jon and watching the line of couples coming in to the party. Everyone has gone all out, bright colors and sparkly material, all of it layered under a blanket of secrecy. It should be exciting, but for Brendon it really just means he doesn’t have to try and remember everyone’s names because their identities are meant to be secret.
He sneaks off after a number of dances, claiming he needs a rest, and stakes out a far corner of the room. It’s not long before Jon joins him, and Zack’s not far away. The two of them haven’t let Brendon out of their sight for days. Jon says he’s worried about the way Brendon’s moping, but that just makes Brendon want to keep his feelings even closer to his chest. He finally convinces Jon that he’s perfectly fine on his own and Jon makes his way back to Tom.
Brendon is sulking in the corner. He's completely aware that Jon is watching him, and he's not blind enough that he doesn't notice the way his mother keeps shooting him looks from across the room. He’s staring at his feet because if he can't see them looking then he doesn't have to acknowledge that they know he's miserable. He looks up when a pair of shoes appear in front of him, a hand slipping into his and tugging him toward the dancefloor. Brendon knows the second that he looks into the eyes of his mystery partner that it's Spencer. He can tell by his blue eyes, the way his lips turn up into a smile, the slightly calloused skin on his hands. Spencer grins and bows, and Brendon nods his head in response, placing his hand on Spencer's shoulder wordlessly.
Brendon worries for half a second about what will be said, what his parents will say about him dancing with another boy, but he can see Jon out of the corner of his eye. Jon pulls Tom away from the girls they’ve been talking to and leads him out onto the floor. Jon and Tom both like to pretend like they’re suave and sophisticated, but they are not. The two of them dancing together involves a lot of tripping over their own feet as well as one another’s. Any other time, Brendon would be highly amused, but tonight he’s just grateful that they’re detracting attention from Brendon, making it look like they’re all just causing mischief. Brendon’s parents will still have something to say, but it won’t be as bad.
Brendon and Spencer don’t speak while they dance. It would be too easy for someone to overhear, and Brendon's fairly certain that if Spencer speaks, he's going to smile and then his parents will know. They only dance for two dances, just enough for Brendon to feel cheated when Spencer bows and whispers, "Meet me on the west balcony."
Brendon nods and Spencer disappears into the crowd. Jon comes up to Brendon, looking incredibly smug. “What was that about?”
Brendon's trying not to smile when he looks at Jon and answers, "Spencer."
Jon smiles like he already knew that. "You knew it was Spencer before he even said anything to you? And that doesn't tell you something?"
Brendon thinks for a moment. "...oh." His breath catches and he looks up at Jon, feeling overwhelmingly surprised. “I'm in love with Spencer."
Jon throws his hands up in the air and has to walk away for a minute. He turns around shaking his head. “Brendon. What did you think was going on here?”
“I don’t know! I thought we were friends! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jon starts laughing and Brendon scowls at him. He knows the effect is ruined by his own mask, but he’s pretty sure he gets his point across. If not, he’ll deal with it later. He has to meet Spencer.
Spencer is waiting in the shadows of the balcony and he smiles, bright and happy, when Brendon appears. Brendon feels awkward because he’s still coming to terms with his recent revelation. Apparently Jon and Spencer have known this for a while, but nobody found it necessary to point it out to Brendon.
Spencer steps closer to Brendon. “I know I’m not supposed to be here; your parents made it clear that my family isn’t welcome. But I wanted to see you, and to give you this.” He pulls out a small pouch and places it in Brendon’s hand.
Brendon looks down at the pouch in his hand, turning it over and over. It's expensive looking and the fabric feels similar to the one he'd been admiring that first day in the marketplace. He’s a little confused but also a bit excited. “What is it?"
"Open it."
Brendon opens the pouch carefully and tips the contents into his hand. It's a woven bracelet, and Brendon holds it closer to his face so he can see. The fabric has been embroidered, an S and B carefully intertwined. “It's beautiful," Brendon says quietly, rolling it over carefully in his hands.
"I had hoped, if it isn't too presumptuous, that you would wear it. Under your sleeve of course, but I hoped that you would accept it as a symbol of my intentions."
Brendon is aware of Spencer watching him as he examines the bracelet, so he takes a shaky breath and hands it back to Spencer. "I—, can you put it on me?"
Brendon rolls up his sleeve and holds out his bare wrist. He flinches a little when Spencer's fingers brush his skin, and he blushes when Spencer grins at him as he ties the bracelet.
**
Several nights pass before Brendon is able to sneak out to the garden. At first it's because his parents are watching over him more closely than usual. They weren't very happy with the display Brendon and his friends put on at the masquerade, dancing with one another when there were so many pretty, available girls at the party.
Then, Jon comes down with something and is confined to his bed. There are the usual arguments where Brendon's mother tries to keep him out of the sick room and Brendon refuses, but things calm down considerably after that. Brendon likes being able to hide out in Jon's room all day, even if Jon is asleep for most of it. At the end of the third night, though, Jon insists that Brendon go meet Spencer.
"Really, Brendon," Jon says. Brendon can see he's trying hard not to laugh because it will bring another coughing fit. "All I've heard all day is "Spencer this" and "Spencer that" and "Spencer says". Go! Make your plans for our future, come back with a smile on your face. I expect details."
"But you're sick," Brendon points out. He doesn't want to leave Jon alone; he doesn't think that's a good show of friendship."
"I'm going to be sleeping," Jon says. "I promise, I won't even know you're gone, except for the fact it'll be quiet in here."
So Brendon relents and makes his way to the garden, where Spencer is already waiting.
"I didn't think you were coming," Spencer says, but something about his smile and the way he says it seems wrong to Brendon. He hopes Spencer isn't having second thoughts, not so soon after Brendon figured out his own feelings.
"I'm sorry. My parents were upset over the dancing, and Jon's been sick," Brendon explains. He doesn't want Spencer to think he's been staying away without reason.
Spencer reaches for Brendon's hand as soon as he's close enough. "Is Jon better now?" he asks, the warm concern obvious in his voice.
Brendon finds it hard to believe it took him so long to admit he was in love with Spencer. Spencer cares about Brendon and his life and his friends in a way that Brendon's not used to.
"No, but he kicked me out of his room." Brendon takes a deep breath, rallying his courage before he rushes on, "He said for me to come talk to you and figure out our future."
Spencer grins. "So you will come away with me?"
Brendon nods. "Jon too. I can't – I won't go without him. I hope you can understand that."
Spencer takes Brendon's hand and squeezes. "I would never ask you to leave Jon behind. He is important to you. Therefore, he is important to me."
Brendon smiles. "Where will we go?"
"We can stay with Ryan. He won't mind, and it will give us time to get on our feet. Gabe Saporta spoke to me about some associates he has that might have jobs for us." Spencer shifts closer to Brendon. "It won't be easy, Brendon, but I promise that we’ll be safe and we’ll be together."
"I'm not… I don't need all of this stuff, Spencer. I'm born into it, but it's not me."
"I know that. I just want you to know what we're in for. I promise you, though, I will do everything in my power to make you happy."
Brendon takes a deep breath and figures it's now or never. "You do. Make me happy, that is."
Spencer doesn’t answer, just brings a hand up to cup Brendon’s cheek, leans in to press their lips together. Brendon’s a little surprised and barely has time to react before Spencer pulls back a little, eyes searching Brendon’s for something. He whispers Brendon’s name and swipes his thumb over Brendon’s lips, following it with his tongue. Brendon closes his eyes and relaxes into Spencer’s touch, into the soft, sweet, mostly-chaste kisses. He wants to lean against Spencer, to take more, to give more. He’s almost scared by how much he wants to do with Spencer, things he hadn’t even thought of before, and the light kisses they’re sharing are just whetting his appetite. Soon, though, he tells himself when Spencer pulls away again. Soon they’ll be able to do whatever they want. His eyes flutter open and Spencer’s watching him, biting his lip. Brendon grins at him. He wants to tell Spencer he loves him, wants to put the words out there between them, but he’s not sure he’s supposed to. “Lay with me for a while before you go home?”
“Just for a little while.”
They stretch out in the grass again, watching the clouds sliding across the sky, blowing in the storms from the east. Brendon’s not sure how close he should lay, how close would be appropriate.
“Brendon.”
Brendon turns his head to look at Spencer.
“I promise I will be good to you.”
Brendon nods. “I trust you.”
Brendon knows he should really get up and go inside, let Spencer go home, but he's perfectly content lying here, timing his breaths to Spencer's and thinking that it is possibly for them to work out a way for everyone to be happy. He's got a smile on his face when he drifts off to sleep.
Brendon wakes up to the sound of his mother’s voice yelling, and he can’t sort out why she’s in his room or what he’s done this time. Then he realizes where he is and, more importantly, who he’s with. His eyes fly open and he scrambles to his feet. Spencer is only seconds behind him, and he takes firm hold of Brendon’s hand. Brendon knows that is going to make everything so much worse, but he can’t let go, can’t lose that connection of strength.
Brendon’s firs thought is that his mother is crying. Brendon made her cry. "What is going on, Brendon? What are you doing with this..." She glares at Spencer. "What are you doing? You were forbidden from associating with him. Did I not make myself clear?"
Brendon can't speak. He doesn't know what to say.
Spencer finally speaks up, stepping slightly in front of Brendon. "Mrs. Urie, please, I can—"
Brendon's mother holds her hand up and doesn't even look in Spencer’s direction. “I do not need to hear excuses. I especially do not need them from someone like you."
Brendon looks at Spencer and then his mother. "Someone like what?" he asks quietly.
"He is beneath us, Brendon. You are a Urie, and you will not associate with this—" She doesn't finish the insult, but Brendon isn't an idiot and he feels a flush of anger.
"I don't care about being a Urie. I'm sorry, mother. I love you and I love father, but I also love Spencer. If you can't accept that, then you can't accept me."
“Brendon!”
His name comes like an echo, three voices hailing him at once. He turns to Spencer first, because he’s closest.
“I’m going to go, before we make this worse, but I’ll make everything right, I promise. I love you.” He squeezes Brendon’s hand and looks as if he’s considering sealing his promise with a kiss. Brendon almost wishes he would, but he doesn’t.
After he walks off, Brendon takes a deep breath and pushes past his mother, going to Jon. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he says, wrapping an arm around Jon’s shoulder and turning him back toward the manor house. He ignores his mother calling after him – seriously, Jon is outside in his pajamas when he’s sick, that’s a little more important right now – and neither he nor Jon speak until they’re back in Jon’s room.
“I’m sorry, Bren, I’m so so sorry,” Jon’s voice is shaky and earnest. “I heard her yelling and I came as quickly as I could, but I never should have let you go alone.”
Brendon’s trying hard enough to not cry as it is, and Jon’s just making it worse. “Don’t, Jon,” Brendon says harshly. “Just… just shut up.”
Brendon still lets Jon wrap him up in a hug, takes the comfort he offers. They curl up in Jon’s bed, Brendon beyond caring whether or not he gets sick. Brendon lays awake for a long time after Jon has fallen asleep, playing with the bracelet tucked safely underneath his sleeve and telling himself that he has to trust Spencer to make it right.
**
Brendon is confined to his bedroom, something he thought he outgrew years ago. Not that it matters; he wouldn’t be allowed outside today anyway. He watches the raindrops slide down the window, the sky outside looking as gloomy as Brendon feels. The rain doesn’t let up for more than a week.
There’s no sign of Spencer.
Weeks pass without a word from him. After the weather clears, Brendon waits in the garden every night, just in case. He’s sullen and silent at the family dinners, quiet even when it’s just him and Jon. Jon goes over to the Smiths’ one day, but he comes back with the news that Spencer’s sisters claim he’s gone away.
Brendon’s birthday is, as always, a lavish affair. He doesn’t feel like celebrating, doesn’t want to be here, faking his way through the evening just so he can keep being miserable. He puts in as little time as possible, letting the daughters of his parents’ friends fawn all over him, before escaping outside with Jon.
Spencer shows up when Jon and Brendon are on the balcony. Brendon really really just wants to run to him, but he holds firm, stepping a little behind Jon. Jon will hold him back if his resolve weakens. Jon’s a good friend.
“Brendon, I’m sorry.” He does actually sound apologetic this time. “I had to leave, to get some things in order. I would have sent word, but I didn’t think you’d get it.”
Brendon shakes his head. “You could have left a note or something.”
“I did. I left a note in the garden, but my sisters said it started raining the night I left and everything flooded. They said Jon came looking for me; that’s how I knew you didn’t get the note.”
Brendon studies the scuffed toes of the shoes, worn from where he’s been kicking the wall of the balcony.
“I have a house, Brendon. In the city, big enough for all of us, and jobs lined up through a friend of Ryan’s. It’s nothing glamorous, and it won’t be the easy life you’re accustomed to, but we’ll be together.”
Brendon squeezes Jon’s hand. He wants this, for all of them, but he can’t. He can’t.
“I talked to your father.”
“Did he…”
Spencer laughs. “He told me he’d set the dogs on me if I came near you.”
“Then why are you here?”
Spencer steps closer to them. “Come with me. Tonight, now. Please, Brendon.”
Brendon looks at Jon. Jon grins. “Just let me go grab Dylan.”
“Got it covered.”
The three of them jump apart guiltily. Zack rolls his eyes and tosses a sack to each of them. “You didn’t think I’d let you go off without me, did you? There is no telling what kind of trouble you three would get in.”
There’s a faint meow from Jon’s bag, and he shifts it around a little so Dylan can poke his head out of the bag. He would probably be glaring at Zack if things were different. Heck, Brendon would normally be glaring at Zack for putting Dylan in a sack and then tossing him around, but they don’t have time for that right now.
Spencer holds out his hand, and Brendon takes it.
**
The blurred edges of his dream still lingers as Brendon makes his way through the college grounds. He has his Music Composition notebook under one arm and is texting Jon with his free hand.
dude hd strngst drm lst nite. was like romeo n juliet only w'out the dying bllshit.
were u romeo or juliet? also haha were u wearing tights?
fuck u dude my ass'd look awesome in tights. u were my bff and helped me elope with a really hot dude.
i AM ur bff dick. how hot r we talking?
10.
awesome. c u at dinner?
macaroni?
pizza.
no anchovies dude.
<3
Brendon pushes his phone back in his pocket and flops down onto the cool ground. The University had planted a Tranquility Garden a few years back, a sort of peaceful safe haven for those who wanted to sit outside and not get smacked in the head by flying footballs and other random paraphernalia. Brendon loves to sit under one of the sprawling oak trees, take in the scent of jasmine that lingers in the air, and work on his music composition projects.
He looks up when a shadow falls over him and then sucks in a breath at the wave of déjà vu that crashes over him. The blue eyes looking back at him are accompanied by an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone was here."
Brendon stares until the guy turns to leave. He snaps out of it, opens his mouth, and the words tumble out. "It's okay. I wasn't doing anything important. You're welcome to stay."
The guy sits down next to Brendon and holds out a hand. "I'm Spencer."
Brendon tries to steady his visibly shaking hand before placing it in Spencer's outstretched one. "Brendon."
And there it is, that blinding smile from his dream, set against the face from his dream and the feeling of déjà vu is overwhelming.
It begins in a garden...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 05:27 am (UTC)It makes me feel so happy and fuzzy knowing that they'll always find each other. <3
He hears Zack same his name in frustration from across the room,
I think you meant "say"? :D
I really liked how this read like a fairytale. <3
no subject
Date: 2009-10-11 02:23 am (UTC)I'm so glad you liked it! All the fairytale-ishness is
no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 06:56 am (UTC)I love happy endings. And I love Brendon and Spencer, so this was pretty much the best way to start my Monday.
(Also, Lee, you should know that I am now a Taylor Swift fan. I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY.) (Except this is not her journal. So she might not see this. So I'm just going to go now. *g*)
no subject
Date: 2009-10-11 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 07:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-11 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-28 08:54 pm (UTC)So cute! I love fics that end like this. :D \o/
♥ ♥ ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-10-11 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-30 02:11 pm (UTC)completely adorable! ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-10-11 02:24 am (UTC)