Like seagulls on crack (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} beggarsnotes) wrote,@ 2009-05-01 10:25:00 |
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The Homesick [6/6]
Author Notes: And here's the last one. Thank you all. <3
Master post
Part Five
VI
Spike Milligan’s Grave
“Particles in an accelerated mass spectrometer git deflected accordin tae their masses usin an artificially generated magnetic field. An artificially generated magnetic field,” Jon says emphatically, feeling sad when this piece of information is lost on Tom and Spencer who stare at him with blank expressions. “Come oan, that is so fuckin kewl!”
“Sad fuck,” Tom mutters under his breath and takes a sip of his drink. The three of them are in one of the clubs in town, spontaneously having decided to go out after Tom and Jon closed up The Nest while Spencer was still hanging around. They’re all a bit drunk by now, and Spencer desperately wants Jon to stop speaking in tongues he doesn’t understand.
“Ye’d huv tae be in the Science Faculty tae truly appreciate it,” Jon concludes solemnly. Tom sits close to Jon, occasionally rubbing the back of Jon’s neck with his hand, and Spencer notices it. Tom even catches Jon’s lips in a kiss a few times, and Jon thinks nothing of it. They’re most likely going to shag later, and Jon likes his share of foreplay.
“Whut?” Jon asks Spencer when Tom goes to get the next round.
Spencer stares at him, unblinking. “Kiss me.”
Jon has no objections to that, so he leans over and does. Spencer opens up instantly, and it’s aggressive at first before Jon fists Spencer’s hair to keep him still. Spencer gasps against Jon’s mouth and lets Jon take over, enjoying the way Jon controls the kiss.
“I leave for one minute,” Tom jokes, making them pull apart. Jon just laughs it off, but Tom and Spencer are not breaking eye contact. Tom places their drinks on the table. “I guess Jon’s been more than enough since you haven’t called me.”
“Huh?” Jon asks.
“I told Spencer that if he ever wants someone to fuck him...” Tom trails off, and Jon laughs, thinking it’s a joke, but he instantly realises it’s not a joke. Oh.
“Maybe I’ve been waiting for the right time,” Spencer offers. “And maybe I’d want to fuck ew.”
“A very valid point,” Tom concedes, shamelessly eye-fucking Spencer. And Jon knew Tom thought Spencer was hot, but oh. Well. Mutual flirting with sparks flying in the air. When did this happen?
“Whatever pleases yez,” Jon says, chuckling slightly. His friends are insane. Tom and Spencer are both looking at him, and Jon suddenly feels the tension too.
“Or whatever pleases us all,” Tom points out quietly.
Jon does a double take and sits up straighter, clearing his throat. Shit. He snakes a finger beneath the collar of his t-shirt to loosen it around his throat. Surely, he remembers how to breathe. He can believe Tom saying that, yeah, definitely, but Spencer?
“It’s getting kinda late,” Tom says casually, but his tone is predatory. “Maybe we should start leaving.”
“I think we should,” Spencer says. Jon can’t quite believe it.
And Jon, well. What the hell can he say to that?
They talk about which series of Big Brother was the best during the taxi drive to their flat, but it’s forced. They keep looking at each other, undressing each other with their gazes, all feeling nervous but even more excited.
There’s nothing unusual going on until they get to Jon’s room. “Let’s git naked,” Jon says like this was his master plan all along instead of him just being in it for the ride. Spencer and Tom both nod like it’s the most logical thing to do. Jon pulls his shirt off hastily and moves to unbuckle himself, hands shaking and failing at the task. Jesus fuck, he has to focus.
Jon tries not to look at Spencer who is already lying on the bed, hips thrusting upwards as he struggles to get his too tight jeans off. “Fuck,” Tom’s voice comes from behind Jon’s ear, and then Tom’s teeth are scraping the side of Jon’s neck. Jon freezes, shirtless and with his fly now open, and he takes a moment to appreciate Tom’s hands wandering on him.
Spencer is on the bed, watching the two men by the doorway. Tom’s hand slides into Jon’s jeans, cupping Jon’s cock, and Jon whines slightly. Tom chuckles and bites on Jon’s shoulder. And fuck, Spencer’s done that to Jon himself, but watching Jon’s mouth go slack like that... fuck. Fuck. Spencer fights his jeans off, beer buzzing in his ears. He struggles twice as hard with his shirt, but he finally gets to the state of nudity he aimed for, and he looks up to see Jon having pushed Tom against the wall. The two are snogging, Jon’s jeans pushed to mid-thigh. Tom is stroking Jon’s half-hard cock, the other hand having taken a handful of Jon’s ass.
“Jesus,” Spencer breathes, and Jon breaks the kiss with Tom to look towards the bed. His cock twitches in Tom’s hand as he locks eyes with Spencer.
“I wanna watch you two,” Tom whispers in Jon’s ear, but it’s almost a groan.
The only intelligible thing Jon can say is, “Aye,” and he takes a step back and gets out of his jeans. Spencer is giving him a smile, and Jon walks over, his cock fully erect and practically leading him to Spencer. But Jon gets that because nakedSpencerbed, and that’s enough to drive him wild.
Jon straddles Spencer, who instantly fists his hair and pulls him down for a dirty kiss. Spencer thinks Jon tastes like Tom a little. Spencer’s fingers rest on Jon’s hip, thumb drawing circles. “Hi,” Spencer whispers in between kisses.
Jon grins broadly and grinds his hips a little. His cock rubs against Spencer’s, and they both moan at the back of their throats. “Hi,” Jon returns before kissing Spencer again, those shiny pink lips that he fucking adores. They keep making out, Spencer’s fingers trailing Jon’s back from his shoulder blades all the way down to cup his ass.
“Fuck, you guys look so good together,” Tom observes, and Spencer looks over Jon’s shoulder to see Tom staring at them. Tom’s managed to undress himself, and Jesus Christ, Spencer is in a room with two naked men, and one of them is currently biting on his collarbone, and the other is watching them and absently stroking his cock, and Spencer is so, so fucking hard. He already knows that he is never, ever going to tell anyone about whatever they do in this room tonight. Spencer lets himself size up Tom’s cock as Jon rotates his hips slightly (Tom has more length than Spencer but less girth, and it’s a bit of a shame, but Spencer isn’t too picky. It’s a good sized cock). Spencer tilts his head back just a little, and Jon sucks on his Adam’s apple. Tom repeats, “Fuck.” Spencer pulls Jon just a little closer to him. Jon isn’t Tom’s.
Tom walks over, curls a hand in Jon’s hair and yanks it, Jon’s head snapping from Spencer’s collarbone, and Jon willingly turns his head to kiss Tom. Tom’s erection is burning against the small of Jon’s back and Spencer’s erection is pressing against Jon’s belly. Jon exhales shakily against Tom’s lips, smacks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He must remember to breathe.
“What do you guys wanna do?” Tom asks, looking from Jon to Spencer.
There’s so much to choose from. Jon lifts an eyebrow at Spencer, but Spencer doesn’t know. He simply lets his hand wander from Jon’s hip to Jon’s cock, wanting to feel the hard length against his palm. Jon inhales sharply as Spencer swirls his thumb over the swollen head.
The silence grows longer, with the three of them by the bed, naked and aroused, and it’s as if no one dares to say what they want.
Tom leans down and nuzzles the side of Jon’s face. “I wouldn’t mind fucking you,” Tom whispers, pushing his cock against Jon’s ass to make a point. Jon manages to suppress a groan, shifting restlessly in Spencer’s lap.
“I wouldn’t mind watching,” Spencer says, suddenly finding his voice again. Jon opens his eyes, panting even though they aren’t doing anything yet. Spencer keeps his calm. He senses how turned on Jon is, and Spencer wants to know what it’s like when Tom and Jon are together, if it compares and who wins?
Jon groans loudly, leaning down to kiss Spencer. “Okay,” he murmurs, repeats the word, “Okay, okay.” Anything Spencer wants. Fucking anything.
“Good choice,” Tom practically purrs, eye-fucking Spencer shamelessly. Spencer’s stomach drops, and fuck it. Just fuck it – he is making friends with the enemy anyway. Spencer moves to tug Tom down a little, and Tom leans over Jon’s shoulder to meet Spencer halfway. The kiss is dirty and full of saliva, Tom’s tongue fucking Spencer’s mouth.
Jon says, “Hey, share.” Tom laughs slightly, and they try a three-way kiss that doesn’t work too well, but it’s still worth a shot.
They end up lying on the bed with Jon in between. Spencer wants to finger Jon, get him ready for Tom, while Tom and Jon focus on snogging, leaving bite marks on each other’s necks. Spencer knows where the supplies are, and soon enough, a lube-covered finger is prying Jon’s entrance. Jon gasps into Tom’s mouth when Spencer gets a good rhythm going with two fingers, crooking them slightly to make Jon shake. Spencer knows just how Jon likes it.
If Spencer wants to fuck Jon after Tom is done, which he plans to, then he can’t wear Jon out with too much finger-fucking. “Ew good?” he asks Jon, who hums against Tom’s lips. “On ewr back, come on,” Spencer instructs further. Jon obeys, and Spencer makes room for the two men. Spencer passes Tom a condom, and Tom rolls it on, settling between Jon’s legs. Spencer watches carefully, examines the way Jon looks and sounds, ignoring how Tom is plainly looking at him instead of Jon when he begins to push in without teasing. Jon’s hips snap up. “Fuck,” Jon breathes as Tom slides in slowly, filling him up.
Spencer lies down next to Jon, grabs his chin and pulls him in for a kiss. Jon’s breathing is shaky as Tom keeps his thrusts even and hard.
“Jon?” Spencer asks quietly, biting on Jon’s bottom lip.
“He feels – Spencer, fuck, he really feels –”
“Good,” Tom cuts in, his hips slowly pushing forwards, driving his cock deep into Jon. Jon lets his head roll back, and his hips push up for more of it.
“Spence, come here,” Jon gasps, and Spencer pushes closer to him. Jon is heaving and turned on, and it’s weird for Spencer to see him like that when he’s not in Jon or Jon in him. Others can give Jon that same pleasure. Tom can give it. His gaze moves from Jon’s face downwards, down to Jon’s spread legs where Tom is thrusting into him, then up, up to Tom’s face, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks Jon.
Jon reaches down to stroke Spencer’s cock that is pressed to his side, and Spencer moans low in his throat. “None of that,” Spencer says, pushing Jon’s hand away. His pleasure is completely irrelevant right now.
Spencer gives Jon a grin before moving to kiss Jon’s chest. His tongue twirls around a nipple, making Jon stiffen. He travels further down, across Jon’s stomach, before taking Jon’s cock into his mouth. “Ah,” Jon gasps, moving both of his hands to thread in Spencer’s hair. He’s being fucked and sucked off at the same time, and it’s a complete overload of too much going on, just waves of pleasure and then some. Jon is pretty sure he is waking up the entire building with how loud he is. He can’t stop watching Tom and Spencer, both fully concentrated on what they’re doing.
“You really like this, huh?” Tom asks. Jon knows Tom is a talker in bed, but Spencer doesn’t. Tom has made him say some of the dirtiest shit when they’ve fucked. Now, he only hums in agreement, feeling his face flush further when Tom adds, “God, you really love my cock.” Tom thrusts in brutally to make a point. Tom knows all this already, so why is he asking?
Jon makes an agreeing sound in between ragged breathing. Spencer groans around his cock, pulling off and tonguing the head. Jon watches in awe.
Tom sees Jon keeping his eyes on Spencer. “You want Spencer, don’t you?”
Jon nods fervently. Tom stills, keeping his cock buried in Jon. Tom puts a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, pulling him up for a kiss. Spencer tastes a little bit like Jon’s come, and Tom licks into Spencer’s mouth hungrily before pulling back slightly. “We could both fuck him,” Tom whispers against Spencer’s lips. It’s a compromise or maybe their refusal of actually sharing. Spencer kisses Tom, and Tom says, “Spencer, Spence. We could both fuck him.”
Spencer pulls back and stares for a second. “Fuck,” he gasps when he realises what Tom means.
Jon has heard Tom’s words, and his muscles involuntarily clench around Tom’s dick. Spencer looks down at him, says, “Jon?”
Jon swallows and tries to focus, but he can’t. It’s too much, two mouths, two hands, all on him, and what did he do to get this lucky? “Aye. Sure, let’s,” Jon says, and shit, did he just say that? Fuck, he did, and the thought turns him on beyond belief.
“We’ll try,” Spencer says. Tom pulls out of Jon with a knowing smirk, but Spencer gives Tom a serious look. It can be done, it can easily be done, but this is Jon, not some porn star used to being penetrated by things no normal man can take. Spencer is pretty sure Jon has never done this, and Tom better not break Jon just to prove to Spencer that he can make Jon come just like Spencer can.
Tom takes Jon’s pillow and places it against the headboard. He leans against it and beckons Jon over with one finger. “Turn around. Face Spencer,” he instructs quietly.
Jon’s entire body is thrumming as he does as he is told, sinking back down onto Tom’s cock as he settles in his lap. It’s such a satisfying, filling sensation that Jon can’t imagine being fuller than he is, but then he thinks of Spencer in him too, and he wants that. He wants it more than he is willing to admit.
Tom grips Jon’s hips, looking down between them where his cock is disappearing and reappearing from Jon’s body. Jon moves slowly in his lap, making sure they both feel the drag of it. “Lean back, come on,” Tom whispers, wrapping an arm around Jon and placing a hand on his torso. Tom gently pulls Jon backwards until Jon’s back is pressed to his front. Jon reaches out his arm and balances himself against the wall behind the headboard.
“Shit,” Jon breathes. He can’t move much in this position. Tom bites on his shoulder, moving his hips a little to keep fucking him. Spencer is way ahead of them as they seem to be a bit lost in each other; Jon’s got his eyes closed, and he’s saying Tom’s name breathlessly. Now Spencer knows what Jon sounds like when he says another guy’s name. Spencer pours lube on his fingers to make sure he doesn’t have to hear more lascivious “Tom”s.
Tom spreads his legs slightly to give Spencer room. Spencer grabs Jon’s ankle, and Jon sinks further onto his back and against Tom’s chest when Spencer carefully lifts the leg over his shoulder. Jon’s trapped between the two men, and he closes his eyes and tries to calm down while two bodies radiate heat against him. “Oh, oh,” he gasps out when Spencer carefully pushes in a finger alongside Tom’s cock. It was a tight fit already, but now – Oh Jesus fuck, it’s almost too much.
“He’s gonna stretch you to take us both,” Tom whispers against Jon’s shoulder blade. Jon moans, but Spencer says nothing, just watches his hand, now adding a second finger into Jon’s ass.
Jon trembles, hand clutching Spencer’s shoulder, blunt nails digging in. He can’t stop from whimpering and moaning – he’s never been this stretched in his life. And it’s too much, what Spencer and Tom want to do to him. It’s definitely beyond his limits, but he wants more. Lust is vibrating inside him, a desire to do this. He can, he –
“Fuck,” he cries out, alarmed. Spencer stops with three fingers inside, locks eyes with Jon who is flushed and heaving.
“Do ew want me to stop?” he asks. He will if Jon tells him to.
Jon shakes his head. “Fuck, just – more. Fuck, more.”
Spencer can barely believe it, but neither has he ever heard Jon sounding this far gone. Tom and Jon stay still as Spencer works the three fingers, feeling Jon slowly adjusting to it. Spencer’s own cock is throbbing, but he makes sure Jon is ready before pulling his fingers out. “Ew good?” he asks, and Jon nods shakily.
“This is gonna be good,” Tom groans, biting hard on Jon’s shoulder as Spencer rolls the condom on. Spencer places both of Jon’s legs on his shoulders as he positions himself. Tom is still leaning against the headboard, and Jon is balancing himself against the wall as well as Tom, but they are mostly horizontal to Spencer, who is now in control of what happens.
“Jon,” Spencer says in a commanding tone, and Jon looks at him. Spencer’s eyes are giving him a silent question, and Jon nods slightly. Spencer keeps studying Jon’s face as he begins to push in slowly. Spencer sucks air in through his teeth because holy fucking hell, it’s so goddamn tight. Tom groans, and Jon simply pants fast and hard. Spencer’s cock is opening him up more, forcing inside with steady, steady pressure. It’s slow and careful, but Jon’s toes still curl as he hisses. A painful throb spreads throughout his body, but it’s good, so good.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck, fuckin fuck,” Jon moans, unable to stop. It comes deep from his lungs, guttural and overwhelmed. He never thought he could feel anything like it, and he never thought that the pain would turn him on even more. Jon focuses on breathing until Spencer is in him, Spencer’s cock pressed to Tom’s. Tom is swearing heavily, chuckling at the back of his throat. Jon can hardly focus on it.
“Okay? Jon. Jon, ew okay?” Spencer is completely wrecked because his cock is being squeezed the living daylight out of – Jon is tight, tight around him, and Spencer has to resist the urge to fuck Jon fast and hard.
“Ah’m good,” Jon gasps eventually.
Tom is grinning broadly. “You want this so bad, huh?”
Jon only nods hurriedly, needing Spencer or Tom to move. Someone has to move already.
It’s Spencer who does, letting his eyes close and hips rotate slightly. Jon gasps, and everything he feels is so much more intense. He feels everything; Spencer moving, Tom too, but only miniscule movements. It’s Spencer who fucks him, giving him and Tom both friction. Tom is groaning loudly, one hand on Jon’s hip and the other on Jon’s chest. Tom keeps kissing Jon’s shoulder, telling him he is doing well, taking them so well. Jon can hardly focus on the compliments because Spencer’s found a rhythm now, and when Jon opens his eyes, Spencer is staring at him with one hand on Jon’s shoulder.
Spencer leans down and kisses Jon, fast and hard. Jon moans into the kiss. Spencer and Tom both keep touching him, Spencer moving to bite on his neck. And they keep moving, and Jon stays in the middle, panting and moaning. He can take it, but fuck, he has never felt this stretched or this full in his life. Tom nibbles his shoulder blade, Spencer bites his neck even harder, and Jon feels like he is being pulled to two different directions with the two men focusing on him like that. He can’t take it long, though there never was any real chance of him lasting long to begin with. He reaches down and fervently strokes his already leaking cock, moaning loud enough to full the room.
“Oh fuck, fuckin fuck, Tom, fuckin Christ, right there, shit,” he babbles on, the words barely making sense to him. “Spence, please, please, fuck –”
Spencer watches Jon writhing, ignoring how good he feels and concentrating on Jon’s pleasure. This is what Tom gets when he fucks Jon, what he himself gets, it’s what they both want and are now sharing, and Tom’s eyes keep locking with his as Jon begins to fall apart between them. Spencer puts more speed and strength behind his thrusts.
Jon comes without warning, his eyes squeezing shut as the two cocks in him stretch him wider and wider, touching him everywhere, stimulating and burning and demanding, and Jon didn’t know he could come that fucking hard. His mind blacks out as his orgasm takes over. It’s too much for Spencer to see Jon that far gone, to feel Jon’s muscles clench when it’s too tight as it is. It hurts, but it’s the most pleasurable pain Spencer’s ever felt, and he climaxes almost instantly with a loud grunt, keeping his hips moving so they can both ride out their orgasms.
Tom smiles into Jon’s shoulder as the two men, both practically on top of him but not putting their weights on him, are panting into the room, dazed. Figures that the two would come together. Tom vaguely remembers what it’s like to be that into someone, when merely seeing and feeling them get off is enough to set you off too. Jon and Spencer are kissing now, breathing into each other’s mouths in blown-away afterglow, and Tom watches them without any jealousy. He’s not trying to push between them, like Spencer probably thinks; he is just trying to keep himself entertained. And get some amazing orgasms while he is at it.
Jon and Spencer are both out of it, still coming down, and Jon keeps trembling. Spencer pulls out first, slowly and carefully, pulling the condom off once his cock is out. Tom is still fully erected, but he pulls out too, slowly manoeuvring himself from under Jon, who carefully lies down on the bed.
“Fuck,” Jon whispers shakily, disbelief in his voice. Spencer smiles a little, moving on top of Jon and leaning down to kiss him as their legs entwine. Spencer feels Tom’s warm and sweaty body pressing against his back, Tom’s erection against his ass.
“How about it?” Tom asks, and Spencer laughs breathlessly in the back of his throat. The guy’s got balls, and not just metaphorically. Spencer’s known Tom wants to fuck him. He locks eyes with Jon, arching an eyebrow in question. He’s come, Jon’s come, so it’s clearly Tom’s turn.
It takes a second for Jon to process anything at all, but he nods, because yeah, he wouldn’t mind watching Tom fuck Spencer, not at all. God, that’s hot.
“Okay,” Spencer whispers once he has the confirmation, looking over his shoulder at Tom.
Spencer just asked Jon permission to have Tom fuck him, and Tom notices but doesn’t comment on it. He simply rolls on a new condom, grabbing the lube to prep Spencer. He’s waited far too long to fuck this guy.
Jon wouldn’t admit it to anyone, and Spencer sure as hell wouldn’t, but the first time Spencer bottomed for Jon was his first time in nearly three years, and Jon could tell. He had to take it so slow, be so careful – hell, Jon was more careful than he’s been with a few virgins he’s fucked. He wouldn’t tell Spencer that, wouldn’t comment on the way Spencer trembled and pulled on his bottom lip, kept heaving, “I’m fine, just fine, just - I just need a minute, just keep still for a minute, Jon,” and Jon kissed him, waiting for Spencer to adjust. They’ve come a long way from there, to Spencer pinning Jon down and riding Jon’s cock until they both are pushing and pulling and crying out. Jon likes to think that he is now passing on his creation, that he is the one letting this happen. And Tom is good, he knows that. He wouldn’t let just any guy fuck Spencer.
Tom still hasn’t gotten off so he is hasty in prepping Spencer, almost groaning at how tight Spencer is around his fingers. Spencer gets on his hands and knees on the bed with Jon directly beneath him. Spencer keeps his eyes on Jon when Tom gets him ready, finally pressing his latex-covered erection to Spencer’s hole. Tom keeps a dramatic pause then, just for show, but then he pushes into Spencer, watching his cock sink into Spencer’s ass.
“Ah, damn, that is good,” Tom groans loudly as his head rolls back. Spencer is just like Tom imagined, if not better. Hot and tight, such a good ass to fuck.
Jon watches Spencer’s nose scrunch up at the initial dull throb, but soon, Spencer moans deep in his lungs. Spencer looks so fucking hot like that, with the bliss of being fucked slowly spreading all over, and Jon keeps his hands running on along Spencer’s arms, chest and back, touching him as Tom begins to fuck him fast and hard. Spencer lets his head hang between his arms, concentrating on the feel of Tom sliding in and out of him repeatedly.
Jon wraps his fingers around Spencer’s half-hard cock, and Spencer hisses. He’s just come, but Tom is fucking him and it’s too bloody good. Jon kisses Spencer and keeps the touch lingering until Spencer’s cock has fully erected, and then he begins to stroke Spencer in time with Tom’s thrusts.
“Fucking hell,” Spencer gasps, and Tom bites on his shoulder like he did with Jon and is entertaining the thought of both of these men having his teeth marks in identical locations for the next few days.
Lust swirls in Jon’s stomach as he watches Spencer get fucked, and his cock twitches, even getting a bit hard, but there is no way it can after the most intense orgasm Jon’s ever had. Jon’s ass is already aching painfully. No one is definitely fucking him any time soon, but he’s not bothered. He just focuses on watching Spencer and Tom, who look gorgeous together. Jon swirls his thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, and Spencer whispers his name, looks at him helplessly with pupils blown from sex and arousal.
“Come on,” Tom gasps. “Fucking hell, Spencer, come on.” He has been at the point of orgasm for long as it is, he possibly can’t go on much longer. Spencer is vibrating as Tom slams into him again and again, and Spencer closes his eyes, focusing on Tom’s moans and Jon’s hushed words.
Spencer comes a second time, mouth falling open as his cock pulsates in Jon’s fist, semen smearing Jon’s stomach. Tom silently exhales in relief and lets himself go, his cock almost sore from fucking two guys in a row, but it makes his orgasm that much more intense. Spencer collapses on Jon as Tom collapses on Spencer, both panting.
“Ow,” Jon comments from the bottom of the pile, and Tom laughs as he pulls out of Spencer. Spencer rolls off of Jon and settles on the mattress next to him, hair a mess and skin red and glowing. He blinks at the ceiling but the world is slightly blurred. Fucking hell, he can still feel Jon and Tom’s hands and lips on him, his body still tingling from both orgasms. His brain is not functioning. At all. Jesus Christ.
Tom is already pulling his jeans on when the men on the bed notice him. “Whut?” Jon asks a bit stupidly, but he never was too articulate right after sex.
“I need to head home,” Tom explains simply as he grabs his t-shirt, shrugging to the two men he has just fucked.
“Ew can stay here, man, on the sofa,” Spencer offers, mumbling his words because, well, brain still dead.
“That’s alright, gotta get up early,” Tom says. He walks over to them, now fully dressed, and he takes a moment to admire them. He’ll gloat later, look in the mirror and congratulate himself. He leans down to peck Jon on the lips. “Thanks for that,” he whispers. Jon hums slightly, smiling a stupid, lopsided grin because fucking hell. Tom looks over to Spencer. “You too.”
“Any time,” Spencer says, and they both know it’s a lie but neither of them care.
“I’ll see you at work,” Tom says, and Jon only grunts a little.
Jon and Spencer stay on the bed after Tom has gone, not speaking or moving. Jon is sore after being double-penetrated, a dull ache making him wince, but it was still worth it. He has never come like that, ever. He nearly shudders just thinking about it.
“Ew okay?” Spencer whispers eventually, turning his head to look at Jon.
“Just give us a minute.”
Spencer chuckles, enjoying the quiet. Six months ago, he had a girlfriend, and now... “I can’t believe I did that.”
Jon breaks into a small smile. “Ah cannae believe we did that.”
“Yeah.”
It’s something they did together. Spencer feels perfectly content knowing that Tom is just good sex, and Spencer can deal with that. It doesn’t mean he is fine with it, but he can live with it. Jon is just having fun with Tom. It’s all just for a few laughs and a good time. “That was fun,” he concludes. “We had fun.”
“Aye.”
Jon has got come drying on his stomach – his and Spencer’s – and he manages to get himself out of bed. And ow, goddamn, the ache is even worse when he moves, but he takes it like a man and heads for a long, thorough shower.
By the time Jon comes back, Spencer’s gone.
To Be Someone Else’s Voice
Ryan finds travel brochures in Brendon’s room – Exploring Ethiopia, Backpacking in Bangladesh and Travelling in Tonga. He spends the afternoon flipping through them all, noticing that Brendon has made small marks in the margins, notes of “Must see this!” or “Potential place of interest”. Ryan smiles at the small scribbles, seeing that Brendon has made calculations of how much flights would cost. Ryan figured a weekend in Barcelona would be enough, but clearly, it’s not. Brendon is serious about this. Brendon wants to go far away from the island he’s been trapped on, see what’s on the other side of the globe, and Ryan wants nothing more than to be the guy sharing that experience with Brendon. He could dig into his savings. They could have the summer of their lives. Or, well, a month. Ryan could do a month. Relationships are about compromise, and he is willing to do that.
But what Brendon has in mind is a whole year. Jon’s said that he knows some people here and there around the world, and Ryan and Brendon can crash on a few couches, can be given a few shitty jobs if they are running low on cash – they just need to let Jon know so that he can make a few calls. And Brendon almost wishes that Jon was his boyfriend because that is so damn awesome. The more he thinks about it, the more he realises it’s what he wants to do, what he needs to do. And it’s a big damn deal because he is going to upset his parents. No, he is going to infuriate them, but he still hasn’t forgotten what Ryan said to him during their fight, that he doesn’t have the guts or the courage to go after what he wants. Well, now he has. And he knows that Ryan is to thank for that because he feels pretty invincible when Ryan holds his hand, kisses his lips or even smiles at him. A tiny spark of hope has been growing stronger and stronger in his chest with every morning he has woken up tangled up in Ryan, and it’s ironic that when he has finally decided to go for what he wants, for the world, Ryan doesn’t have his back at all.
“The world can wait,” Ryan says softly, but Brendon shakes his head. That’s just the thing – it can’t.
Brendon keeps thinking that he can talk Ryan into it, but then Ryan gets promoted to a Ph.D. student for astounding, groundbreaking work on the early medieval ogham inscriptions in Western Wales. They go out celebrating with Jon and Spencer, and Ryan is beaming, two years of hard work having paid off. Ryan is too high on the rush of his promotion to notice that not once that night is Brendon’s smile genuine.
Ryan gets what he wants, but it complicates it for Brendon. Because no matter what happens now, Brendon is going to leave. Maybe it’s Brighton for that amazing job opportunity in the sodding lift company or maybe it’s humid and exotic Malaysia, but it’s not going to be where Ryan is. Brendon is going to leave, and it takes Ryan a day to realise that. He comes home to find Spencer and Brendon having bought cardboard boxes.
“Need to start packing for Mooscow,” Spencer explains with a happy smile on his face, and Ryan knows how excited Spencer is to go back to Russia. Hell, all of his flatmates are thrilled to be graduating and moving on to something new.
“I just need to start packing,” Brendon shrugs, rubbing his nose as he avoids eye contact.
“Yeah, the lease finishin and all,” Ryan agrees. In his head, he and Brendon were going to get a place for themselves, maybe in the next block because it’s a nice neighbourhood and Ryan doesn’t feel like moving. And Brendon could... do a post-grad degree. Ryan knows Brendon doesn’t want to, that Brendon’s parents expect him to start working now. Maybe Brendon could get a nice job in some tedious local company instead of moving away to Brighton.
It’s too soon for the big relationship talk. They’ve been together for a few damn months, and Ryan can’t force them to sit down and decide what to do as a unit, as a couple, because he is terrified that they won’t be a couple after that conversation. And he never paused to think about the possibility of it ending when they got together. Brendon is his best friend. If they don’t work, Ryan highly doubts they can still be friends. Life is too short for holding grudges – true. But life is also too short to force yourself to be friends with a guy you want to wake up next to. Day after day after day. But they are working. They are working so damn well. This is just a small hitch, and they can figure it out. But Ryan just doesn’t want to have that conversation.
“Yeh ever feel like yer life is a... a train?” Ryan asks Jon one night in the kitchen. Jon lifts an eyebrow, looking up from the graphs he is sketching for his dissertation. “Like yeh’re on a train in this tunnel, and the train just keeps goin faster and faster, suckin yeh in, and yeh keep lookin out of the window, panickin, because what if that was yer stop? What if yeh missed it? Where would those rails have taken yeh? Some place better? And yeh just can never know because yeh don’t have the time to find out. Yeh’re bein sucked in, a spiral spinnin faster and faster.”
“Ah used tae feel like that,” Jon admits.
“And?”
Jon grins. “N ah dropped oot of uni fir a wee while. Think of it this way: a quarter of yir life has gone. Just a quarter, man. Who the fuck says ye huv tae ken everythin the now?”
Ryan sighs. “True.”
“On the other hand, a quarter of yir life has fuckin gone. Naw time like the present tae start livin the life ye want.” Jon smiles to himself. “N this lad is goin back tae Glesga.”
“We’ll visit yeh some time, Brendon and me. Or at least... I’ll visit yeh. If Brendon’s not around anymore.”
Jon pretends not to hear as he focuses on his graphs. He doesn’t say that Brendon would stay if Ryan asked – Brendon probably wouldn’t.
Ryan watches Jon concentrate on his work, and like Jon, Ryan loves what he studies. He does. But as a job? For the rest of his life, every day, nine to five? Surely, that’s enough time to make you loathe even the one thing you loved, when it doesn’t give you room to breathe.
Brendon was right about him. He has no idea what the hell he wants, and his time is running out.
* * *
Jon has a nasty habit of leaving his assignments last minute, and he finishes up his dissertation the night before the deadline with the help of two pans of black coffee. It’s five months of on-and-off research done, but he doesn’t have the energy to celebrate. Instead, he crashes on the couch and passes out instantly. Spencer finds him there at three in the afternoon, curled up and deeply asleep.
Spencer carefully kneels down beside the couch, his hand moving to card in Jon’s hair. Jon stirs a little, letting out a deep breath. He cracks open his left eye and mumbles, “Hey.”
“Hi. Didn’t mean to wake ew up,” Spencer whispers and doesn’t add that he just couldn’t walk away with how gorgeous Jon looked sleeping there like that.
“Thasawright.” Jon yawns, and Spencer breaks into a smile at the sight.
“Did ew hand in the dissertaation?”
“Aye.”
“Congrats.” Spencer’s fingers keep brushing Jon’s hair, and Jon finds the simple touch blissful through his slumber.
“C’mere,” he whispers, taking hold of Spencer’s wrist and tugging. Spencer obeys, and Jon makes some room on the couch for Spencer. It’s far too small for two men, but they make it fit out of stubbornness. Once Jon has his arms wrapped tight around Spencer, he moves to place lazy afternoon kisses on Spencer’s mouth. Spencer smiles into them, whispers silly things only Jon can hear. Their lips brush together unhurriedly, and Jon hasn’t felt as light or as content in years.
They fall asleep, wrapped up in each other. They don’t admit that they are in love.
* * *
There is a common misconception that back in the old days everyone married young. Ryan has done some reading on it, just for fun, and while it is true to some extent, a considerable number never married. So it’s not a new idea to remain single, to remain free and detached. And you can’t please everyone. If you marry under twenty-five, they say you’re too young. If you marry at thirty, well, you should really have those kids already, you don’t want them to have Down’s syndrome or something else, do you? And boy, you sure took your time settling down, and it’s all your fault.
So there is no way of pleasing everyone. It’s a part of life. Ryan knows he is young – too young – to settle down.
“Here’s the thing,” he tells Brendon, bursting into the bathroom while Brendon is brushing his teeth. Brendon frowns. He thought he locked the door. “Yeh are goin. No matter what happens, yeh’re goin, and I think that is great. I’m stuck here with me Ph.D., and I know I could be a reason for yeh to stay. But I’m not goin to ask yeh to. I don’t want yeh to stay here. Yeh deserve the world, Bren, all of it.”
Brendon stares at his boyfriend, foam and brush still in his mouth. He knew it’s been coming, this conversation, making a decision of some kind. He knew it, but he didn’t know it’d hurt this fucking much. He takes a step back, spits into the sink and rinses his mouth to buy himself some time, but he ends up staring into the porcelain bowl instead.
“Bren?” Ryan asks tentatively.
Brendon feels sick. Goddammit, why can’t Ryan just order him to stay? It’s like Ryan doesn’t even care enough to fight for them. Nothing with Patrick ever tore him up like this. Ryan makes him feel too much – too much joy, too much happiness, too much sadness and fear. He feels like an emotional wreck all the time, ever since it became obvious they had different plans for the future.
That there is no future.
“So what does that mean for us? I mean... I’m going to be travelling all over. It’s not a time to date people. I could be in Laos and still be... be with you. Or is the distance too much?” Brendon asks angrily, feeling frustrated by the entire mess. “Because there are phone calls and emails and –”
“Yeh want to go away for a year.”
“And you can’t wait a year? I mean, I’m gonna fucking come back! I’m not disappearing from the face of the planet! And you won’t – Goddammit! Was this just – just a spring time fling for you? You knew all along I’d be leaving, so you thought you’d get some action as you waited for me to pack my shit and graduate?”
“Okay, are yeh even listenin to yehrself?” Ryan asks disbelievingly, and Brendon just crosses his arms, knowing he is being ridiculous but it hurts. It hurts and leaves him paralysed.
“I’ve been thinkin about us a lot lately,” Ryan says calmly, and Brendon nods. He has too. “And I’ve realised that... I can live without yeh.”
Brendon chokes on his breath, decides to keep nodding as he blinks too much. Like a punch in the stomach, like he hasn’t laid out his heart and soul, and for what? For this. For this moment when Ryan walks away, not looking back, saying that Brendon was never that big of a deal, never meant anything.
“But I don’t want to do that. That’s what relationships are all about, don’t yeh get it? We’re young, we’re in love, and I don’t want to live without yeh. I could, but I don’t want to. So I’m not goin to ask yeh to stay. I’m askin yeh to take me with yeh when yeh go. Okay? Can yeh do that?”
Brendon frowns, staring into Ryan’s urgent eyes. “Take you where?”
Ryan laughs. “Fuck, anywhere! Wherever yeh’re plannin to go, let’s go! Let’s feckin do it! Because me life is like, like a train, okay? And it’s –”
Brendon wipes his cheeks as waves of relief wash over him. “A train metaphor? Really, Ross?”
“Yes! And I’m bein sucked into this tunnel of degrees and responsibilities, a career waitin, money, prestige, but why the feck would I want to get there if I’m only lookin back to the one stop where yeh got off and I didn’t follow yeh? Because twenty years down the line, I’d still be lookin back. I’m too young to settle down, but I’m old enough to know what love is,” Ryan says softly. “So take me with yeh.”
Brendon tries to stop from shaking. “Are you asking nicely?”
“I am.”
“Really nicely?”
“Practically beggin. Yeh have some toothpaste on yer face, by the way.”
Brendon laughs and wipes the corners of his mouth while Ryan pulls him into a tight embrace. “I love you,” Brendon whispers.
Ryan drops out of university the next day.
* * *
The graduation party is chaotic. All of their parents show up, and Brendon is pissed that he can’t be Ryan’s boyfriend while the Rosses are visiting, but he deals with it. Ryan sees these people twice a year, and Ryan just turned down a Ph.D. offer for him, so Brendon decides that it’s Ryan’s decision how long he neglects to tell his parents that he loves sucking cock. Ryan gets his M.Phil. degree, and Brendon feels damn proud that his boyfriend is so smart. Brendon himself barely graduates at all, but his parents don’t mind. His dad only talks about the lift company.
Ryan’s parents don’t care about a possible doctorate. Ryan apologetically explains that he can apply for one later when he comes back, when he knows for sure what he wants to do with his life. They shrug indifferently – it’s all the same to them. Ryan can’t believe he has wasted over twenty years wanting his parents to be proud of him. He will never stop caring what they think, but he decides to try.
Spencer sees Haley at the graduation. She, like the rest of them, is wearing one of the black robes for the ceremony. She looks happy, and Spencer considers going over to say hello, to say goodbye, but then he spots Jon in the crowd and goes over to say hello to his parents instead. It’s the last time Spencer ever sees Haley.
Before Spencer knows it, he is having his picture taken with his parents and sisters. He smiles for the camera, degree in one hand, flowers in the other, and Jon comes over three times to hug him. “We did it,” Jon laughs, and Spencer just nods in agreement. Brendon is in the later ceremony that afternoon, but he is there to hug them both.
“Here,” Spencer’s father says and hands him a bottle of vodka. “Something Russian for ew as ew start a new life.” His mother cries.
The four graduates drink the bottle of vodka that same night before heading to the clubs. Pete is there, William is there, everyone they’ve ever known, and Jon wakes up in Spencer’s bed while Ryan wakes up in Brendon’s. The flat is a mess of boxes as they try to sort out their lives, moving out, moving on.
Finding something new.
Something to Remember Me By
Spencer’s room is bare. Everything’s been packed and shipped away, one man’s life taking up the corner of a truck currently crossing Germany. Only one suitcase lies by the bed, and Spencer’s laptop is still humming on the desk. Jon looks at the absence of everything.
“Jon?” Spencer asks again, and Jon snaps out of his daze and focuses his eyes on Spencer. They have to leave for the Farewell Party that Pete is throwing Spencer.
“Ah’ll drive ye tae the airport tomoro.”
It’s not a request or a question. Spencer was going to take the bus.
“Ew sure?”
“Aye.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Nae bother.”
The air is thick and electric, an unbearable tension building between them. Jon turns around and walks back out, letting his eyes flutter shut when he does. He takes in a calming breath and forces down the terrified feeling inside him. He hasn’t felt anything like it since Michael in Australia, and even that was microscopic compared to this.
Going away parties resemble funerals except with more room for inappropriate jokes. Everyone reminds Spencer to visit or ask if they perhaps might come to Moscow some time. Spencer knows from previous experience that they won’t visit, will rather spend their money on a two week boozing/shagging trip to Ibiza. Still, he tells everyone that he’d love for them to visit.
“Ew too,” he tells Jon.
“Aye, ah just might.” Spencer hopes to god Jon will. “Glesga is also a good place to visit.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Spencer doesn’t drink because he is taking an early morning flight, switching planes in Amsterdam. Jon doesn’t drink because he has to be in driving condition. Pete gives Spencer the biggest hug and says he is proud of Spencer. Spencer feels like everyone is trying to memorise him to put him down in their books as that guy they used to know. It’s okay – he is doing the same. Everyone there will make new friends and forget about some of the old ones.
The four of them walk back home in the early morning. Spencer is going to miss Ryan and Brendon. Brendon tears up a bit, and Spencer feels guilty. But he has to go – it’s his life, it’s what he wants. Ryan and Brendon retreat to Ryan’s bedroom, and Spencer watches them go, wondering if he will ever see them again.
“We’ll leave quarter tae seven,” Jon says as a reminder. Spencer feels tired but not from lack of sleep. His heart feels tired. Jon gives him a cautious smile. “Goodnight.”
“Can I –” Spencer begins and stops. He is shaking. “Can I sleep in ewr bed tonight?”
Jon says nothing, just smiles and nods. Spencer wishes he was as composed, but he isn’t. He feels better, though, when they strip in the dark and get under the covers of Jon’s bed. Spencer wonders if they should have sex. He’s not sure, but he feels better, less on edge, when he and Jon curl up together. Spencer keeps seeing them as two lambs out on a field, trying to hide in the nooks of the hillside as a cold night lands upon them. He has so much he wants to tell, Jon but he feels like there isn’t enough time, so he says nothing.
Spencer falls asleep without meaning to, and he wakes up almost as instantly to the alarm of Jon’s phone. It’s morning. They have to go.
Jon realises the same thing, and he grabs Spencer, hungrily kissing him. They fuck, and it’s quick and hasty and just a bit desperate, but they get each other off, chapped lips brushing together apologetically. Jon pulls on jeans, Spencer runs for a quick shower, and they leave the flat fifteen minutes behind schedule. The streets are completely deserted and the morning is foggy, and Jon speeds out of town. Spencer hopes he never visits it again.
Spencer flicks on the radio, going from the morning news to the classic rock station. “What are ew gonna do? Back in Glasgow,” Spencer asks quietly, looking at the road ahead of them. He has never felt as heartbroken in his life. He just wants to reach out and touch Jon, but something is stopping him.
Jon shrugs, forces himself to find his voice. Jon feels thin, like he is being stretched and pulled. He is wearing thin. “Get a flat in the Gorbals because apparently ah’v got a death wish. Get a cat or two, ah’m considerin namin one after Bob Dylan. Git a job of sum kind, wouldnae mind bartendin. Huv fun.”
Spencer smiles to himself. “Have fun, eh?”
Jon looks over to him and grins. “Always.”
Spencer’s heart squeezes, and for a moment, he pictures himself asking Jon to keep driving. They’ve got a tank full of gas, a beautiful English morning dawning around them, they’ve both got sixty or so years left, and couldn’t they just keep driving until their last breath? Because Spencer could. Jon could show Spencer all those places he travelled to, and Spencer could crack lame jokes that make Jon laugh, and they could do that.
They could.
In some other life.
Jon takes the right exit, the road sign showing a picture of an airplane. Jon stops outside the international terminal, and the airport is a bit more alive than the city was, a bit more alive than the two of them feel. Still, even the airport is only slowly starting to wake up.
Spencer gets his huge suitcase out from the boot, and Jon walks around the car, is looking from Spencer to the revolving doors of the terminal. “Dae ye want me tae come inside wit ye?” Jon asks.
“That’s okay, ew can go home an sleep some more.”
If Jon comes inside, Spencer is afraid he will do something stupid like change his mind.
“Okay,” Jon exhales. Spencer is going to go and be gone, and Jon can’t wrap his mind around that. He doesn’t understand Spencer not being there anymore. How could he let himself get used to Spencer like that?
“I’m goin home,” Spencer whispers and manages to smile.
“Ye happy?”
“Yeah. Sad too, but... I’m happy.”
It’s good. It’s what Spencer said he wants in life, and it’s not a bad thing to want. Jon knows Brendon wants to change the world, and Ryan probably has some vague notions of contributing to the human knowledge, and all of these are worthy causes. There is no one right way of spending a life. Jon hasn’t really realised that until now.
“About that... that time with Tom,” Spencer begins. He looks down to his shoes. “It was... good fun, but… Sometimes, I wish it had just been ew an me.”
“Aye. Me too.”
What they had was too private to be shared with a third party – they just didn’t realise it at the time. Jon’s heart flares at the thought, and he can’t. He can’t do this, he doesn’t know how. Fuck, he can’t break down.
Spencer is staring at him, suddenly laughing out loud. “Well. Can I get a cwch out of ew?”
Jon laughs but chokes on it, and he steps over and pulls Spencer to him. The hug is tight with no intentions from either one to let go. And Spencer’s smile turns into a frown that he hides into Jon’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent.
“Ew saved me,” Spencer says. Jon makes a protesting sound, but Spencer says, “Ew did.” Jon saved him, made him better, changed and moulded him in a way Spencer never knew another person could. Spencer would have perished without him.
Jon feels the words, the words, swirling inside him, fighting to find a way out. And Jon has never said them to anyone, never thought he would, but he can’t stop them from spilling out. “Spencer, ah –”
“Ew don’t have to say it,” Spencer says, and he pulls back enough to look Jon in the eyes. “I know. Well, I... hoped.”
Jon nods, blinking more than necessary. Spencer knows. That’s good.
“I do too,” Spencer says, and he smiles a bit too wide over the confession, knowing that they never would have said anything if it hadn’t come down to this. But it has, and Spencer can’t leave not telling Jon how he felt. How he feels.
Jon kisses him. Spencer clings onto it, knowing that what they have will never exist in another time, and that they will never be like this again. Jon pulls back a little, but Spencer steps forward for another kiss because that couldn’t have been the last one. There has to be at least a few more, a bit more time. Maybe he should’ve asked Jon to keep on driving.
When they pull apart, Jon notices that Spencer’s eyes are glistening. And they look even more beautiful like that. Spencer whispers, “Don’t go changing on me, Jon Walker.”
Jon laughs desperately. He wouldn’t dream of it. He would never.
Spencer steps away, grabs onto the handle of the suitcase. Jon shivers, all the way to his heart and bones, but he smiles at Spencer and hides it.
“Later, yeah?” Spencer asks.
“Aye. Later.”
There is no later. They know that.
Spencer keeps smiling, and Jon watches Spencer turn around and walk away. Spencer heads for the terminal as tears spill onto his cheeks. He walks faster.
Jon turns around, gets back into the car, drives off without looking back. Jon can barely breathe, and he has to pull over to the side of the road, head resting against the wheel and knuckles white as he tries to breathe because Spencer is gone, is gone now, isn’t there anymore, and Jon can’t fucking believe it. He bangs the dashboard with his fist as he breaks down.
Spencer made Jon break half a dozen promises he had made to himself. Sometimes, the people who change your life are only short acquaintances, but the impact they leave lasts a lifetime. And if Jon could have ever made it work with anyone, it would have been with Spencer. And he hopes Spencer knows that.
He is pretty sure Spencer knew that.
* * *
“Come on, Ryan!” Brendon says insistently as he dashes for the right platform of the train station.
“Easy for yeh to say! Yer rucksack is nowhere near as heavy as mine!” Ryan retorts as sweat rolls down the side of his face, and who knew India was so goddamn hot? And funny smelling. It smells spicy, a bit like the king prawn Rogan josh that Ryan used to get from that Indian takeaway down the street. Ryan adored that place. He squeezes past locals babbling in a language he doesn’t understand, keeping his eyes on Brendon’s rucksack swinging a few metres ahead.
Their train disappears around the corner just as they get to the platform. They are panting in the brutal sunlight, covering their eyes and blinking after it. “Goddammit!” Brendon mutters.
“I don’t think there’s another train to Jabalpur until tomorrow.”
“Really?” Brendon asks and groans. “Just our luck.”
Ryan lifts an eyebrow that clearly says they wouldn’t have missed their train hadn’t Brendon felt it necessary to fuck twice before checking out of their hotel. Also, why did Brendon bring Soldier Boy along to their conquest of the world? Brendon should have known how distracting Ryan would find it.
“Guess we’re stuck here,” Brendon concludes before grinning wildly. He has never been as happy in his life. And the world? It’s amazing. It’s full of life, buzzing everywhere, filled with wonder. It’s everything Brendon ever dreamed of and more, and having Ryan there with him only makes the colours brighter. “Let’s go find a café and send people postcards,” he suggests.
Ryan can tell that Brendon doesn’t actually care about being stranded, and to be honest, Ryan doesn’t give a damn either.
Ryan adjusts the rucksack on his back and leads the way back out, chuckling at the sight of a white cow standing in the middle of the road, disturbing traffic. “Let’s send Jon a card with one of these holy cows on it.”
“Yeah,” Brendon agrees, smiling at the way the humid air makes the tips of Ryan’s hair curl. He is going to marry that man. Well, if they live some place that allows that. But he knows it already, even if Ryan doesn’t. Brendon also knows that the two of them can zigzag across the world a dozen times if they want to, but he is home. Ryan is there with him, and Brendon is finally home. “And let’s send a Dalai Lama postcard to Spencer, or one that looks really sunny so that he’ll get pissy that Russia is so cold.”
“Well, that goes without sayin,” Ryan observes.
Author Notes: And here's the last one. Thank you all. <3
Master post
Part Five
Spike Milligan’s Grave
“Particles in an accelerated mass spectrometer git deflected accordin tae their masses usin an artificially generated magnetic field. An artificially generated magnetic field,” Jon says emphatically, feeling sad when this piece of information is lost on Tom and Spencer who stare at him with blank expressions. “Come oan, that is so fuckin kewl!”
“Sad fuck,” Tom mutters under his breath and takes a sip of his drink. The three of them are in one of the clubs in town, spontaneously having decided to go out after Tom and Jon closed up The Nest while Spencer was still hanging around. They’re all a bit drunk by now, and Spencer desperately wants Jon to stop speaking in tongues he doesn’t understand.
“Ye’d huv tae be in the Science Faculty tae truly appreciate it,” Jon concludes solemnly. Tom sits close to Jon, occasionally rubbing the back of Jon’s neck with his hand, and Spencer notices it. Tom even catches Jon’s lips in a kiss a few times, and Jon thinks nothing of it. They’re most likely going to shag later, and Jon likes his share of foreplay.
“Whut?” Jon asks Spencer when Tom goes to get the next round.
Spencer stares at him, unblinking. “Kiss me.”
Jon has no objections to that, so he leans over and does. Spencer opens up instantly, and it’s aggressive at first before Jon fists Spencer’s hair to keep him still. Spencer gasps against Jon’s mouth and lets Jon take over, enjoying the way Jon controls the kiss.
“I leave for one minute,” Tom jokes, making them pull apart. Jon just laughs it off, but Tom and Spencer are not breaking eye contact. Tom places their drinks on the table. “I guess Jon’s been more than enough since you haven’t called me.”
“Huh?” Jon asks.
“I told Spencer that if he ever wants someone to fuck him...” Tom trails off, and Jon laughs, thinking it’s a joke, but he instantly realises it’s not a joke. Oh.
“Maybe I’ve been waiting for the right time,” Spencer offers. “And maybe I’d want to fuck ew.”
“A very valid point,” Tom concedes, shamelessly eye-fucking Spencer. And Jon knew Tom thought Spencer was hot, but oh. Well. Mutual flirting with sparks flying in the air. When did this happen?
“Whatever pleases yez,” Jon says, chuckling slightly. His friends are insane. Tom and Spencer are both looking at him, and Jon suddenly feels the tension too.
“Or whatever pleases us all,” Tom points out quietly.
Jon does a double take and sits up straighter, clearing his throat. Shit. He snakes a finger beneath the collar of his t-shirt to loosen it around his throat. Surely, he remembers how to breathe. He can believe Tom saying that, yeah, definitely, but Spencer?
“It’s getting kinda late,” Tom says casually, but his tone is predatory. “Maybe we should start leaving.”
“I think we should,” Spencer says. Jon can’t quite believe it.
And Jon, well. What the hell can he say to that?
They talk about which series of Big Brother was the best during the taxi drive to their flat, but it’s forced. They keep looking at each other, undressing each other with their gazes, all feeling nervous but even more excited.
There’s nothing unusual going on until they get to Jon’s room. “Let’s git naked,” Jon says like this was his master plan all along instead of him just being in it for the ride. Spencer and Tom both nod like it’s the most logical thing to do. Jon pulls his shirt off hastily and moves to unbuckle himself, hands shaking and failing at the task. Jesus fuck, he has to focus.
Jon tries not to look at Spencer who is already lying on the bed, hips thrusting upwards as he struggles to get his too tight jeans off. “Fuck,” Tom’s voice comes from behind Jon’s ear, and then Tom’s teeth are scraping the side of Jon’s neck. Jon freezes, shirtless and with his fly now open, and he takes a moment to appreciate Tom’s hands wandering on him.
Spencer is on the bed, watching the two men by the doorway. Tom’s hand slides into Jon’s jeans, cupping Jon’s cock, and Jon whines slightly. Tom chuckles and bites on Jon’s shoulder. And fuck, Spencer’s done that to Jon himself, but watching Jon’s mouth go slack like that... fuck. Fuck. Spencer fights his jeans off, beer buzzing in his ears. He struggles twice as hard with his shirt, but he finally gets to the state of nudity he aimed for, and he looks up to see Jon having pushed Tom against the wall. The two are snogging, Jon’s jeans pushed to mid-thigh. Tom is stroking Jon’s half-hard cock, the other hand having taken a handful of Jon’s ass.
“Jesus,” Spencer breathes, and Jon breaks the kiss with Tom to look towards the bed. His cock twitches in Tom’s hand as he locks eyes with Spencer.
“I wanna watch you two,” Tom whispers in Jon’s ear, but it’s almost a groan.
The only intelligible thing Jon can say is, “Aye,” and he takes a step back and gets out of his jeans. Spencer is giving him a smile, and Jon walks over, his cock fully erect and practically leading him to Spencer. But Jon gets that because nakedSpencerbed, and that’s enough to drive him wild.
Jon straddles Spencer, who instantly fists his hair and pulls him down for a dirty kiss. Spencer thinks Jon tastes like Tom a little. Spencer’s fingers rest on Jon’s hip, thumb drawing circles. “Hi,” Spencer whispers in between kisses.
Jon grins broadly and grinds his hips a little. His cock rubs against Spencer’s, and they both moan at the back of their throats. “Hi,” Jon returns before kissing Spencer again, those shiny pink lips that he fucking adores. They keep making out, Spencer’s fingers trailing Jon’s back from his shoulder blades all the way down to cup his ass.
“Fuck, you guys look so good together,” Tom observes, and Spencer looks over Jon’s shoulder to see Tom staring at them. Tom’s managed to undress himself, and Jesus Christ, Spencer is in a room with two naked men, and one of them is currently biting on his collarbone, and the other is watching them and absently stroking his cock, and Spencer is so, so fucking hard. He already knows that he is never, ever going to tell anyone about whatever they do in this room tonight. Spencer lets himself size up Tom’s cock as Jon rotates his hips slightly (Tom has more length than Spencer but less girth, and it’s a bit of a shame, but Spencer isn’t too picky. It’s a good sized cock). Spencer tilts his head back just a little, and Jon sucks on his Adam’s apple. Tom repeats, “Fuck.” Spencer pulls Jon just a little closer to him. Jon isn’t Tom’s.
Tom walks over, curls a hand in Jon’s hair and yanks it, Jon’s head snapping from Spencer’s collarbone, and Jon willingly turns his head to kiss Tom. Tom’s erection is burning against the small of Jon’s back and Spencer’s erection is pressing against Jon’s belly. Jon exhales shakily against Tom’s lips, smacks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He must remember to breathe.
“What do you guys wanna do?” Tom asks, looking from Jon to Spencer.
There’s so much to choose from. Jon lifts an eyebrow at Spencer, but Spencer doesn’t know. He simply lets his hand wander from Jon’s hip to Jon’s cock, wanting to feel the hard length against his palm. Jon inhales sharply as Spencer swirls his thumb over the swollen head.
The silence grows longer, with the three of them by the bed, naked and aroused, and it’s as if no one dares to say what they want.
Tom leans down and nuzzles the side of Jon’s face. “I wouldn’t mind fucking you,” Tom whispers, pushing his cock against Jon’s ass to make a point. Jon manages to suppress a groan, shifting restlessly in Spencer’s lap.
“I wouldn’t mind watching,” Spencer says, suddenly finding his voice again. Jon opens his eyes, panting even though they aren’t doing anything yet. Spencer keeps his calm. He senses how turned on Jon is, and Spencer wants to know what it’s like when Tom and Jon are together, if it compares and who wins?
Jon groans loudly, leaning down to kiss Spencer. “Okay,” he murmurs, repeats the word, “Okay, okay.” Anything Spencer wants. Fucking anything.
“Good choice,” Tom practically purrs, eye-fucking Spencer shamelessly. Spencer’s stomach drops, and fuck it. Just fuck it – he is making friends with the enemy anyway. Spencer moves to tug Tom down a little, and Tom leans over Jon’s shoulder to meet Spencer halfway. The kiss is dirty and full of saliva, Tom’s tongue fucking Spencer’s mouth.
Jon says, “Hey, share.” Tom laughs slightly, and they try a three-way kiss that doesn’t work too well, but it’s still worth a shot.
They end up lying on the bed with Jon in between. Spencer wants to finger Jon, get him ready for Tom, while Tom and Jon focus on snogging, leaving bite marks on each other’s necks. Spencer knows where the supplies are, and soon enough, a lube-covered finger is prying Jon’s entrance. Jon gasps into Tom’s mouth when Spencer gets a good rhythm going with two fingers, crooking them slightly to make Jon shake. Spencer knows just how Jon likes it.
If Spencer wants to fuck Jon after Tom is done, which he plans to, then he can’t wear Jon out with too much finger-fucking. “Ew good?” he asks Jon, who hums against Tom’s lips. “On ewr back, come on,” Spencer instructs further. Jon obeys, and Spencer makes room for the two men. Spencer passes Tom a condom, and Tom rolls it on, settling between Jon’s legs. Spencer watches carefully, examines the way Jon looks and sounds, ignoring how Tom is plainly looking at him instead of Jon when he begins to push in without teasing. Jon’s hips snap up. “Fuck,” Jon breathes as Tom slides in slowly, filling him up.
Spencer lies down next to Jon, grabs his chin and pulls him in for a kiss. Jon’s breathing is shaky as Tom keeps his thrusts even and hard.
“Jon?” Spencer asks quietly, biting on Jon’s bottom lip.
“He feels – Spencer, fuck, he really feels –”
“Good,” Tom cuts in, his hips slowly pushing forwards, driving his cock deep into Jon. Jon lets his head roll back, and his hips push up for more of it.
“Spence, come here,” Jon gasps, and Spencer pushes closer to him. Jon is heaving and turned on, and it’s weird for Spencer to see him like that when he’s not in Jon or Jon in him. Others can give Jon that same pleasure. Tom can give it. His gaze moves from Jon’s face downwards, down to Jon’s spread legs where Tom is thrusting into him, then up, up to Tom’s face, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks Jon.
Jon reaches down to stroke Spencer’s cock that is pressed to his side, and Spencer moans low in his throat. “None of that,” Spencer says, pushing Jon’s hand away. His pleasure is completely irrelevant right now.
Spencer gives Jon a grin before moving to kiss Jon’s chest. His tongue twirls around a nipple, making Jon stiffen. He travels further down, across Jon’s stomach, before taking Jon’s cock into his mouth. “Ah,” Jon gasps, moving both of his hands to thread in Spencer’s hair. He’s being fucked and sucked off at the same time, and it’s a complete overload of too much going on, just waves of pleasure and then some. Jon is pretty sure he is waking up the entire building with how loud he is. He can’t stop watching Tom and Spencer, both fully concentrated on what they’re doing.
“You really like this, huh?” Tom asks. Jon knows Tom is a talker in bed, but Spencer doesn’t. Tom has made him say some of the dirtiest shit when they’ve fucked. Now, he only hums in agreement, feeling his face flush further when Tom adds, “God, you really love my cock.” Tom thrusts in brutally to make a point. Tom knows all this already, so why is he asking?
Jon makes an agreeing sound in between ragged breathing. Spencer groans around his cock, pulling off and tonguing the head. Jon watches in awe.
Tom sees Jon keeping his eyes on Spencer. “You want Spencer, don’t you?”
Jon nods fervently. Tom stills, keeping his cock buried in Jon. Tom puts a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, pulling him up for a kiss. Spencer tastes a little bit like Jon’s come, and Tom licks into Spencer’s mouth hungrily before pulling back slightly. “We could both fuck him,” Tom whispers against Spencer’s lips. It’s a compromise or maybe their refusal of actually sharing. Spencer kisses Tom, and Tom says, “Spencer, Spence. We could both fuck him.”
Spencer pulls back and stares for a second. “Fuck,” he gasps when he realises what Tom means.
Jon has heard Tom’s words, and his muscles involuntarily clench around Tom’s dick. Spencer looks down at him, says, “Jon?”
Jon swallows and tries to focus, but he can’t. It’s too much, two mouths, two hands, all on him, and what did he do to get this lucky? “Aye. Sure, let’s,” Jon says, and shit, did he just say that? Fuck, he did, and the thought turns him on beyond belief.
“We’ll try,” Spencer says. Tom pulls out of Jon with a knowing smirk, but Spencer gives Tom a serious look. It can be done, it can easily be done, but this is Jon, not some porn star used to being penetrated by things no normal man can take. Spencer is pretty sure Jon has never done this, and Tom better not break Jon just to prove to Spencer that he can make Jon come just like Spencer can.
Tom takes Jon’s pillow and places it against the headboard. He leans against it and beckons Jon over with one finger. “Turn around. Face Spencer,” he instructs quietly.
Jon’s entire body is thrumming as he does as he is told, sinking back down onto Tom’s cock as he settles in his lap. It’s such a satisfying, filling sensation that Jon can’t imagine being fuller than he is, but then he thinks of Spencer in him too, and he wants that. He wants it more than he is willing to admit.
Tom grips Jon’s hips, looking down between them where his cock is disappearing and reappearing from Jon’s body. Jon moves slowly in his lap, making sure they both feel the drag of it. “Lean back, come on,” Tom whispers, wrapping an arm around Jon and placing a hand on his torso. Tom gently pulls Jon backwards until Jon’s back is pressed to his front. Jon reaches out his arm and balances himself against the wall behind the headboard.
“Shit,” Jon breathes. He can’t move much in this position. Tom bites on his shoulder, moving his hips a little to keep fucking him. Spencer is way ahead of them as they seem to be a bit lost in each other; Jon’s got his eyes closed, and he’s saying Tom’s name breathlessly. Now Spencer knows what Jon sounds like when he says another guy’s name. Spencer pours lube on his fingers to make sure he doesn’t have to hear more lascivious “Tom”s.
Tom spreads his legs slightly to give Spencer room. Spencer grabs Jon’s ankle, and Jon sinks further onto his back and against Tom’s chest when Spencer carefully lifts the leg over his shoulder. Jon’s trapped between the two men, and he closes his eyes and tries to calm down while two bodies radiate heat against him. “Oh, oh,” he gasps out when Spencer carefully pushes in a finger alongside Tom’s cock. It was a tight fit already, but now – Oh Jesus fuck, it’s almost too much.
“He’s gonna stretch you to take us both,” Tom whispers against Jon’s shoulder blade. Jon moans, but Spencer says nothing, just watches his hand, now adding a second finger into Jon’s ass.
Jon trembles, hand clutching Spencer’s shoulder, blunt nails digging in. He can’t stop from whimpering and moaning – he’s never been this stretched in his life. And it’s too much, what Spencer and Tom want to do to him. It’s definitely beyond his limits, but he wants more. Lust is vibrating inside him, a desire to do this. He can, he –
“Fuck,” he cries out, alarmed. Spencer stops with three fingers inside, locks eyes with Jon who is flushed and heaving.
“Do ew want me to stop?” he asks. He will if Jon tells him to.
Jon shakes his head. “Fuck, just – more. Fuck, more.”
Spencer can barely believe it, but neither has he ever heard Jon sounding this far gone. Tom and Jon stay still as Spencer works the three fingers, feeling Jon slowly adjusting to it. Spencer’s own cock is throbbing, but he makes sure Jon is ready before pulling his fingers out. “Ew good?” he asks, and Jon nods shakily.
“This is gonna be good,” Tom groans, biting hard on Jon’s shoulder as Spencer rolls the condom on. Spencer places both of Jon’s legs on his shoulders as he positions himself. Tom is still leaning against the headboard, and Jon is balancing himself against the wall as well as Tom, but they are mostly horizontal to Spencer, who is now in control of what happens.
“Jon,” Spencer says in a commanding tone, and Jon looks at him. Spencer’s eyes are giving him a silent question, and Jon nods slightly. Spencer keeps studying Jon’s face as he begins to push in slowly. Spencer sucks air in through his teeth because holy fucking hell, it’s so goddamn tight. Tom groans, and Jon simply pants fast and hard. Spencer’s cock is opening him up more, forcing inside with steady, steady pressure. It’s slow and careful, but Jon’s toes still curl as he hisses. A painful throb spreads throughout his body, but it’s good, so good.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck, fuckin fuck,” Jon moans, unable to stop. It comes deep from his lungs, guttural and overwhelmed. He never thought he could feel anything like it, and he never thought that the pain would turn him on even more. Jon focuses on breathing until Spencer is in him, Spencer’s cock pressed to Tom’s. Tom is swearing heavily, chuckling at the back of his throat. Jon can hardly focus on it.
“Okay? Jon. Jon, ew okay?” Spencer is completely wrecked because his cock is being squeezed the living daylight out of – Jon is tight, tight around him, and Spencer has to resist the urge to fuck Jon fast and hard.
“Ah’m good,” Jon gasps eventually.
Tom is grinning broadly. “You want this so bad, huh?”
Jon only nods hurriedly, needing Spencer or Tom to move. Someone has to move already.
It’s Spencer who does, letting his eyes close and hips rotate slightly. Jon gasps, and everything he feels is so much more intense. He feels everything; Spencer moving, Tom too, but only miniscule movements. It’s Spencer who fucks him, giving him and Tom both friction. Tom is groaning loudly, one hand on Jon’s hip and the other on Jon’s chest. Tom keeps kissing Jon’s shoulder, telling him he is doing well, taking them so well. Jon can hardly focus on the compliments because Spencer’s found a rhythm now, and when Jon opens his eyes, Spencer is staring at him with one hand on Jon’s shoulder.
Spencer leans down and kisses Jon, fast and hard. Jon moans into the kiss. Spencer and Tom both keep touching him, Spencer moving to bite on his neck. And they keep moving, and Jon stays in the middle, panting and moaning. He can take it, but fuck, he has never felt this stretched or this full in his life. Tom nibbles his shoulder blade, Spencer bites his neck even harder, and Jon feels like he is being pulled to two different directions with the two men focusing on him like that. He can’t take it long, though there never was any real chance of him lasting long to begin with. He reaches down and fervently strokes his already leaking cock, moaning loud enough to full the room.
“Oh fuck, fuckin fuck, Tom, fuckin Christ, right there, shit,” he babbles on, the words barely making sense to him. “Spence, please, please, fuck –”
Spencer watches Jon writhing, ignoring how good he feels and concentrating on Jon’s pleasure. This is what Tom gets when he fucks Jon, what he himself gets, it’s what they both want and are now sharing, and Tom’s eyes keep locking with his as Jon begins to fall apart between them. Spencer puts more speed and strength behind his thrusts.
Jon comes without warning, his eyes squeezing shut as the two cocks in him stretch him wider and wider, touching him everywhere, stimulating and burning and demanding, and Jon didn’t know he could come that fucking hard. His mind blacks out as his orgasm takes over. It’s too much for Spencer to see Jon that far gone, to feel Jon’s muscles clench when it’s too tight as it is. It hurts, but it’s the most pleasurable pain Spencer’s ever felt, and he climaxes almost instantly with a loud grunt, keeping his hips moving so they can both ride out their orgasms.
Tom smiles into Jon’s shoulder as the two men, both practically on top of him but not putting their weights on him, are panting into the room, dazed. Figures that the two would come together. Tom vaguely remembers what it’s like to be that into someone, when merely seeing and feeling them get off is enough to set you off too. Jon and Spencer are kissing now, breathing into each other’s mouths in blown-away afterglow, and Tom watches them without any jealousy. He’s not trying to push between them, like Spencer probably thinks; he is just trying to keep himself entertained. And get some amazing orgasms while he is at it.
Jon and Spencer are both out of it, still coming down, and Jon keeps trembling. Spencer pulls out first, slowly and carefully, pulling the condom off once his cock is out. Tom is still fully erected, but he pulls out too, slowly manoeuvring himself from under Jon, who carefully lies down on the bed.
“Fuck,” Jon whispers shakily, disbelief in his voice. Spencer smiles a little, moving on top of Jon and leaning down to kiss him as their legs entwine. Spencer feels Tom’s warm and sweaty body pressing against his back, Tom’s erection against his ass.
“How about it?” Tom asks, and Spencer laughs breathlessly in the back of his throat. The guy’s got balls, and not just metaphorically. Spencer’s known Tom wants to fuck him. He locks eyes with Jon, arching an eyebrow in question. He’s come, Jon’s come, so it’s clearly Tom’s turn.
It takes a second for Jon to process anything at all, but he nods, because yeah, he wouldn’t mind watching Tom fuck Spencer, not at all. God, that’s hot.
“Okay,” Spencer whispers once he has the confirmation, looking over his shoulder at Tom.
Spencer just asked Jon permission to have Tom fuck him, and Tom notices but doesn’t comment on it. He simply rolls on a new condom, grabbing the lube to prep Spencer. He’s waited far too long to fuck this guy.
Jon wouldn’t admit it to anyone, and Spencer sure as hell wouldn’t, but the first time Spencer bottomed for Jon was his first time in nearly three years, and Jon could tell. He had to take it so slow, be so careful – hell, Jon was more careful than he’s been with a few virgins he’s fucked. He wouldn’t tell Spencer that, wouldn’t comment on the way Spencer trembled and pulled on his bottom lip, kept heaving, “I’m fine, just fine, just - I just need a minute, just keep still for a minute, Jon,” and Jon kissed him, waiting for Spencer to adjust. They’ve come a long way from there, to Spencer pinning Jon down and riding Jon’s cock until they both are pushing and pulling and crying out. Jon likes to think that he is now passing on his creation, that he is the one letting this happen. And Tom is good, he knows that. He wouldn’t let just any guy fuck Spencer.
Tom still hasn’t gotten off so he is hasty in prepping Spencer, almost groaning at how tight Spencer is around his fingers. Spencer gets on his hands and knees on the bed with Jon directly beneath him. Spencer keeps his eyes on Jon when Tom gets him ready, finally pressing his latex-covered erection to Spencer’s hole. Tom keeps a dramatic pause then, just for show, but then he pushes into Spencer, watching his cock sink into Spencer’s ass.
“Ah, damn, that is good,” Tom groans loudly as his head rolls back. Spencer is just like Tom imagined, if not better. Hot and tight, such a good ass to fuck.
Jon watches Spencer’s nose scrunch up at the initial dull throb, but soon, Spencer moans deep in his lungs. Spencer looks so fucking hot like that, with the bliss of being fucked slowly spreading all over, and Jon keeps his hands running on along Spencer’s arms, chest and back, touching him as Tom begins to fuck him fast and hard. Spencer lets his head hang between his arms, concentrating on the feel of Tom sliding in and out of him repeatedly.
Jon wraps his fingers around Spencer’s half-hard cock, and Spencer hisses. He’s just come, but Tom is fucking him and it’s too bloody good. Jon kisses Spencer and keeps the touch lingering until Spencer’s cock has fully erected, and then he begins to stroke Spencer in time with Tom’s thrusts.
“Fucking hell,” Spencer gasps, and Tom bites on his shoulder like he did with Jon and is entertaining the thought of both of these men having his teeth marks in identical locations for the next few days.
Lust swirls in Jon’s stomach as he watches Spencer get fucked, and his cock twitches, even getting a bit hard, but there is no way it can after the most intense orgasm Jon’s ever had. Jon’s ass is already aching painfully. No one is definitely fucking him any time soon, but he’s not bothered. He just focuses on watching Spencer and Tom, who look gorgeous together. Jon swirls his thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, and Spencer whispers his name, looks at him helplessly with pupils blown from sex and arousal.
“Come on,” Tom gasps. “Fucking hell, Spencer, come on.” He has been at the point of orgasm for long as it is, he possibly can’t go on much longer. Spencer is vibrating as Tom slams into him again and again, and Spencer closes his eyes, focusing on Tom’s moans and Jon’s hushed words.
Spencer comes a second time, mouth falling open as his cock pulsates in Jon’s fist, semen smearing Jon’s stomach. Tom silently exhales in relief and lets himself go, his cock almost sore from fucking two guys in a row, but it makes his orgasm that much more intense. Spencer collapses on Jon as Tom collapses on Spencer, both panting.
“Ow,” Jon comments from the bottom of the pile, and Tom laughs as he pulls out of Spencer. Spencer rolls off of Jon and settles on the mattress next to him, hair a mess and skin red and glowing. He blinks at the ceiling but the world is slightly blurred. Fucking hell, he can still feel Jon and Tom’s hands and lips on him, his body still tingling from both orgasms. His brain is not functioning. At all. Jesus Christ.
Tom is already pulling his jeans on when the men on the bed notice him. “Whut?” Jon asks a bit stupidly, but he never was too articulate right after sex.
“I need to head home,” Tom explains simply as he grabs his t-shirt, shrugging to the two men he has just fucked.
“Ew can stay here, man, on the sofa,” Spencer offers, mumbling his words because, well, brain still dead.
“That’s alright, gotta get up early,” Tom says. He walks over to them, now fully dressed, and he takes a moment to admire them. He’ll gloat later, look in the mirror and congratulate himself. He leans down to peck Jon on the lips. “Thanks for that,” he whispers. Jon hums slightly, smiling a stupid, lopsided grin because fucking hell. Tom looks over to Spencer. “You too.”
“Any time,” Spencer says, and they both know it’s a lie but neither of them care.
“I’ll see you at work,” Tom says, and Jon only grunts a little.
Jon and Spencer stay on the bed after Tom has gone, not speaking or moving. Jon is sore after being double-penetrated, a dull ache making him wince, but it was still worth it. He has never come like that, ever. He nearly shudders just thinking about it.
“Ew okay?” Spencer whispers eventually, turning his head to look at Jon.
“Just give us a minute.”
Spencer chuckles, enjoying the quiet. Six months ago, he had a girlfriend, and now... “I can’t believe I did that.”
Jon breaks into a small smile. “Ah cannae believe we did that.”
“Yeah.”
It’s something they did together. Spencer feels perfectly content knowing that Tom is just good sex, and Spencer can deal with that. It doesn’t mean he is fine with it, but he can live with it. Jon is just having fun with Tom. It’s all just for a few laughs and a good time. “That was fun,” he concludes. “We had fun.”
“Aye.”
Jon has got come drying on his stomach – his and Spencer’s – and he manages to get himself out of bed. And ow, goddamn, the ache is even worse when he moves, but he takes it like a man and heads for a long, thorough shower.
By the time Jon comes back, Spencer’s gone.
To Be Someone Else’s Voice
Ryan finds travel brochures in Brendon’s room – Exploring Ethiopia, Backpacking in Bangladesh and Travelling in Tonga. He spends the afternoon flipping through them all, noticing that Brendon has made small marks in the margins, notes of “Must see this!” or “Potential place of interest”. Ryan smiles at the small scribbles, seeing that Brendon has made calculations of how much flights would cost. Ryan figured a weekend in Barcelona would be enough, but clearly, it’s not. Brendon is serious about this. Brendon wants to go far away from the island he’s been trapped on, see what’s on the other side of the globe, and Ryan wants nothing more than to be the guy sharing that experience with Brendon. He could dig into his savings. They could have the summer of their lives. Or, well, a month. Ryan could do a month. Relationships are about compromise, and he is willing to do that.
But what Brendon has in mind is a whole year. Jon’s said that he knows some people here and there around the world, and Ryan and Brendon can crash on a few couches, can be given a few shitty jobs if they are running low on cash – they just need to let Jon know so that he can make a few calls. And Brendon almost wishes that Jon was his boyfriend because that is so damn awesome. The more he thinks about it, the more he realises it’s what he wants to do, what he needs to do. And it’s a big damn deal because he is going to upset his parents. No, he is going to infuriate them, but he still hasn’t forgotten what Ryan said to him during their fight, that he doesn’t have the guts or the courage to go after what he wants. Well, now he has. And he knows that Ryan is to thank for that because he feels pretty invincible when Ryan holds his hand, kisses his lips or even smiles at him. A tiny spark of hope has been growing stronger and stronger in his chest with every morning he has woken up tangled up in Ryan, and it’s ironic that when he has finally decided to go for what he wants, for the world, Ryan doesn’t have his back at all.
“The world can wait,” Ryan says softly, but Brendon shakes his head. That’s just the thing – it can’t.
Brendon keeps thinking that he can talk Ryan into it, but then Ryan gets promoted to a Ph.D. student for astounding, groundbreaking work on the early medieval ogham inscriptions in Western Wales. They go out celebrating with Jon and Spencer, and Ryan is beaming, two years of hard work having paid off. Ryan is too high on the rush of his promotion to notice that not once that night is Brendon’s smile genuine.
Ryan gets what he wants, but it complicates it for Brendon. Because no matter what happens now, Brendon is going to leave. Maybe it’s Brighton for that amazing job opportunity in the sodding lift company or maybe it’s humid and exotic Malaysia, but it’s not going to be where Ryan is. Brendon is going to leave, and it takes Ryan a day to realise that. He comes home to find Spencer and Brendon having bought cardboard boxes.
“Need to start packing for Mooscow,” Spencer explains with a happy smile on his face, and Ryan knows how excited Spencer is to go back to Russia. Hell, all of his flatmates are thrilled to be graduating and moving on to something new.
“I just need to start packing,” Brendon shrugs, rubbing his nose as he avoids eye contact.
“Yeah, the lease finishin and all,” Ryan agrees. In his head, he and Brendon were going to get a place for themselves, maybe in the next block because it’s a nice neighbourhood and Ryan doesn’t feel like moving. And Brendon could... do a post-grad degree. Ryan knows Brendon doesn’t want to, that Brendon’s parents expect him to start working now. Maybe Brendon could get a nice job in some tedious local company instead of moving away to Brighton.
It’s too soon for the big relationship talk. They’ve been together for a few damn months, and Ryan can’t force them to sit down and decide what to do as a unit, as a couple, because he is terrified that they won’t be a couple after that conversation. And he never paused to think about the possibility of it ending when they got together. Brendon is his best friend. If they don’t work, Ryan highly doubts they can still be friends. Life is too short for holding grudges – true. But life is also too short to force yourself to be friends with a guy you want to wake up next to. Day after day after day. But they are working. They are working so damn well. This is just a small hitch, and they can figure it out. But Ryan just doesn’t want to have that conversation.
“Yeh ever feel like yer life is a... a train?” Ryan asks Jon one night in the kitchen. Jon lifts an eyebrow, looking up from the graphs he is sketching for his dissertation. “Like yeh’re on a train in this tunnel, and the train just keeps goin faster and faster, suckin yeh in, and yeh keep lookin out of the window, panickin, because what if that was yer stop? What if yeh missed it? Where would those rails have taken yeh? Some place better? And yeh just can never know because yeh don’t have the time to find out. Yeh’re bein sucked in, a spiral spinnin faster and faster.”
“Ah used tae feel like that,” Jon admits.
“And?”
Jon grins. “N ah dropped oot of uni fir a wee while. Think of it this way: a quarter of yir life has gone. Just a quarter, man. Who the fuck says ye huv tae ken everythin the now?”
Ryan sighs. “True.”
“On the other hand, a quarter of yir life has fuckin gone. Naw time like the present tae start livin the life ye want.” Jon smiles to himself. “N this lad is goin back tae Glesga.”
“We’ll visit yeh some time, Brendon and me. Or at least... I’ll visit yeh. If Brendon’s not around anymore.”
Jon pretends not to hear as he focuses on his graphs. He doesn’t say that Brendon would stay if Ryan asked – Brendon probably wouldn’t.
Ryan watches Jon concentrate on his work, and like Jon, Ryan loves what he studies. He does. But as a job? For the rest of his life, every day, nine to five? Surely, that’s enough time to make you loathe even the one thing you loved, when it doesn’t give you room to breathe.
Brendon was right about him. He has no idea what the hell he wants, and his time is running out.
Jon has a nasty habit of leaving his assignments last minute, and he finishes up his dissertation the night before the deadline with the help of two pans of black coffee. It’s five months of on-and-off research done, but he doesn’t have the energy to celebrate. Instead, he crashes on the couch and passes out instantly. Spencer finds him there at three in the afternoon, curled up and deeply asleep.
Spencer carefully kneels down beside the couch, his hand moving to card in Jon’s hair. Jon stirs a little, letting out a deep breath. He cracks open his left eye and mumbles, “Hey.”
“Hi. Didn’t mean to wake ew up,” Spencer whispers and doesn’t add that he just couldn’t walk away with how gorgeous Jon looked sleeping there like that.
“Thasawright.” Jon yawns, and Spencer breaks into a smile at the sight.
“Did ew hand in the dissertaation?”
“Aye.”
“Congrats.” Spencer’s fingers keep brushing Jon’s hair, and Jon finds the simple touch blissful through his slumber.
“C’mere,” he whispers, taking hold of Spencer’s wrist and tugging. Spencer obeys, and Jon makes some room on the couch for Spencer. It’s far too small for two men, but they make it fit out of stubbornness. Once Jon has his arms wrapped tight around Spencer, he moves to place lazy afternoon kisses on Spencer’s mouth. Spencer smiles into them, whispers silly things only Jon can hear. Their lips brush together unhurriedly, and Jon hasn’t felt as light or as content in years.
They fall asleep, wrapped up in each other. They don’t admit that they are in love.
There is a common misconception that back in the old days everyone married young. Ryan has done some reading on it, just for fun, and while it is true to some extent, a considerable number never married. So it’s not a new idea to remain single, to remain free and detached. And you can’t please everyone. If you marry under twenty-five, they say you’re too young. If you marry at thirty, well, you should really have those kids already, you don’t want them to have Down’s syndrome or something else, do you? And boy, you sure took your time settling down, and it’s all your fault.
So there is no way of pleasing everyone. It’s a part of life. Ryan knows he is young – too young – to settle down.
“Here’s the thing,” he tells Brendon, bursting into the bathroom while Brendon is brushing his teeth. Brendon frowns. He thought he locked the door. “Yeh are goin. No matter what happens, yeh’re goin, and I think that is great. I’m stuck here with me Ph.D., and I know I could be a reason for yeh to stay. But I’m not goin to ask yeh to. I don’t want yeh to stay here. Yeh deserve the world, Bren, all of it.”
Brendon stares at his boyfriend, foam and brush still in his mouth. He knew it’s been coming, this conversation, making a decision of some kind. He knew it, but he didn’t know it’d hurt this fucking much. He takes a step back, spits into the sink and rinses his mouth to buy himself some time, but he ends up staring into the porcelain bowl instead.
“Bren?” Ryan asks tentatively.
Brendon feels sick. Goddammit, why can’t Ryan just order him to stay? It’s like Ryan doesn’t even care enough to fight for them. Nothing with Patrick ever tore him up like this. Ryan makes him feel too much – too much joy, too much happiness, too much sadness and fear. He feels like an emotional wreck all the time, ever since it became obvious they had different plans for the future.
That there is no future.
“So what does that mean for us? I mean... I’m going to be travelling all over. It’s not a time to date people. I could be in Laos and still be... be with you. Or is the distance too much?” Brendon asks angrily, feeling frustrated by the entire mess. “Because there are phone calls and emails and –”
“Yeh want to go away for a year.”
“And you can’t wait a year? I mean, I’m gonna fucking come back! I’m not disappearing from the face of the planet! And you won’t – Goddammit! Was this just – just a spring time fling for you? You knew all along I’d be leaving, so you thought you’d get some action as you waited for me to pack my shit and graduate?”
“Okay, are yeh even listenin to yehrself?” Ryan asks disbelievingly, and Brendon just crosses his arms, knowing he is being ridiculous but it hurts. It hurts and leaves him paralysed.
“I’ve been thinkin about us a lot lately,” Ryan says calmly, and Brendon nods. He has too. “And I’ve realised that... I can live without yeh.”
Brendon chokes on his breath, decides to keep nodding as he blinks too much. Like a punch in the stomach, like he hasn’t laid out his heart and soul, and for what? For this. For this moment when Ryan walks away, not looking back, saying that Brendon was never that big of a deal, never meant anything.
“But I don’t want to do that. That’s what relationships are all about, don’t yeh get it? We’re young, we’re in love, and I don’t want to live without yeh. I could, but I don’t want to. So I’m not goin to ask yeh to stay. I’m askin yeh to take me with yeh when yeh go. Okay? Can yeh do that?”
Brendon frowns, staring into Ryan’s urgent eyes. “Take you where?”
Ryan laughs. “Fuck, anywhere! Wherever yeh’re plannin to go, let’s go! Let’s feckin do it! Because me life is like, like a train, okay? And it’s –”
Brendon wipes his cheeks as waves of relief wash over him. “A train metaphor? Really, Ross?”
“Yes! And I’m bein sucked into this tunnel of degrees and responsibilities, a career waitin, money, prestige, but why the feck would I want to get there if I’m only lookin back to the one stop where yeh got off and I didn’t follow yeh? Because twenty years down the line, I’d still be lookin back. I’m too young to settle down, but I’m old enough to know what love is,” Ryan says softly. “So take me with yeh.”
Brendon tries to stop from shaking. “Are you asking nicely?”
“I am.”
“Really nicely?”
“Practically beggin. Yeh have some toothpaste on yer face, by the way.”
Brendon laughs and wipes the corners of his mouth while Ryan pulls him into a tight embrace. “I love you,” Brendon whispers.
Ryan drops out of university the next day.
The graduation party is chaotic. All of their parents show up, and Brendon is pissed that he can’t be Ryan’s boyfriend while the Rosses are visiting, but he deals with it. Ryan sees these people twice a year, and Ryan just turned down a Ph.D. offer for him, so Brendon decides that it’s Ryan’s decision how long he neglects to tell his parents that he loves sucking cock. Ryan gets his M.Phil. degree, and Brendon feels damn proud that his boyfriend is so smart. Brendon himself barely graduates at all, but his parents don’t mind. His dad only talks about the lift company.
Ryan’s parents don’t care about a possible doctorate. Ryan apologetically explains that he can apply for one later when he comes back, when he knows for sure what he wants to do with his life. They shrug indifferently – it’s all the same to them. Ryan can’t believe he has wasted over twenty years wanting his parents to be proud of him. He will never stop caring what they think, but he decides to try.
Spencer sees Haley at the graduation. She, like the rest of them, is wearing one of the black robes for the ceremony. She looks happy, and Spencer considers going over to say hello, to say goodbye, but then he spots Jon in the crowd and goes over to say hello to his parents instead. It’s the last time Spencer ever sees Haley.
Before Spencer knows it, he is having his picture taken with his parents and sisters. He smiles for the camera, degree in one hand, flowers in the other, and Jon comes over three times to hug him. “We did it,” Jon laughs, and Spencer just nods in agreement. Brendon is in the later ceremony that afternoon, but he is there to hug them both.
“Here,” Spencer’s father says and hands him a bottle of vodka. “Something Russian for ew as ew start a new life.” His mother cries.
The four graduates drink the bottle of vodka that same night before heading to the clubs. Pete is there, William is there, everyone they’ve ever known, and Jon wakes up in Spencer’s bed while Ryan wakes up in Brendon’s. The flat is a mess of boxes as they try to sort out their lives, moving out, moving on.
Finding something new.
Something to Remember Me By
Spencer’s room is bare. Everything’s been packed and shipped away, one man’s life taking up the corner of a truck currently crossing Germany. Only one suitcase lies by the bed, and Spencer’s laptop is still humming on the desk. Jon looks at the absence of everything.
“Jon?” Spencer asks again, and Jon snaps out of his daze and focuses his eyes on Spencer. They have to leave for the Farewell Party that Pete is throwing Spencer.
“Ah’ll drive ye tae the airport tomoro.”
It’s not a request or a question. Spencer was going to take the bus.
“Ew sure?”
“Aye.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Nae bother.”
The air is thick and electric, an unbearable tension building between them. Jon turns around and walks back out, letting his eyes flutter shut when he does. He takes in a calming breath and forces down the terrified feeling inside him. He hasn’t felt anything like it since Michael in Australia, and even that was microscopic compared to this.
Going away parties resemble funerals except with more room for inappropriate jokes. Everyone reminds Spencer to visit or ask if they perhaps might come to Moscow some time. Spencer knows from previous experience that they won’t visit, will rather spend their money on a two week boozing/shagging trip to Ibiza. Still, he tells everyone that he’d love for them to visit.
“Ew too,” he tells Jon.
“Aye, ah just might.” Spencer hopes to god Jon will. “Glesga is also a good place to visit.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Spencer doesn’t drink because he is taking an early morning flight, switching planes in Amsterdam. Jon doesn’t drink because he has to be in driving condition. Pete gives Spencer the biggest hug and says he is proud of Spencer. Spencer feels like everyone is trying to memorise him to put him down in their books as that guy they used to know. It’s okay – he is doing the same. Everyone there will make new friends and forget about some of the old ones.
The four of them walk back home in the early morning. Spencer is going to miss Ryan and Brendon. Brendon tears up a bit, and Spencer feels guilty. But he has to go – it’s his life, it’s what he wants. Ryan and Brendon retreat to Ryan’s bedroom, and Spencer watches them go, wondering if he will ever see them again.
“We’ll leave quarter tae seven,” Jon says as a reminder. Spencer feels tired but not from lack of sleep. His heart feels tired. Jon gives him a cautious smile. “Goodnight.”
“Can I –” Spencer begins and stops. He is shaking. “Can I sleep in ewr bed tonight?”
Jon says nothing, just smiles and nods. Spencer wishes he was as composed, but he isn’t. He feels better, though, when they strip in the dark and get under the covers of Jon’s bed. Spencer wonders if they should have sex. He’s not sure, but he feels better, less on edge, when he and Jon curl up together. Spencer keeps seeing them as two lambs out on a field, trying to hide in the nooks of the hillside as a cold night lands upon them. He has so much he wants to tell, Jon but he feels like there isn’t enough time, so he says nothing.
Spencer falls asleep without meaning to, and he wakes up almost as instantly to the alarm of Jon’s phone. It’s morning. They have to go.
Jon realises the same thing, and he grabs Spencer, hungrily kissing him. They fuck, and it’s quick and hasty and just a bit desperate, but they get each other off, chapped lips brushing together apologetically. Jon pulls on jeans, Spencer runs for a quick shower, and they leave the flat fifteen minutes behind schedule. The streets are completely deserted and the morning is foggy, and Jon speeds out of town. Spencer hopes he never visits it again.
Spencer flicks on the radio, going from the morning news to the classic rock station. “What are ew gonna do? Back in Glasgow,” Spencer asks quietly, looking at the road ahead of them. He has never felt as heartbroken in his life. He just wants to reach out and touch Jon, but something is stopping him.
Jon shrugs, forces himself to find his voice. Jon feels thin, like he is being stretched and pulled. He is wearing thin. “Get a flat in the Gorbals because apparently ah’v got a death wish. Get a cat or two, ah’m considerin namin one after Bob Dylan. Git a job of sum kind, wouldnae mind bartendin. Huv fun.”
Spencer smiles to himself. “Have fun, eh?”
Jon looks over to him and grins. “Always.”
Spencer’s heart squeezes, and for a moment, he pictures himself asking Jon to keep driving. They’ve got a tank full of gas, a beautiful English morning dawning around them, they’ve both got sixty or so years left, and couldn’t they just keep driving until their last breath? Because Spencer could. Jon could show Spencer all those places he travelled to, and Spencer could crack lame jokes that make Jon laugh, and they could do that.
They could.
In some other life.
Jon takes the right exit, the road sign showing a picture of an airplane. Jon stops outside the international terminal, and the airport is a bit more alive than the city was, a bit more alive than the two of them feel. Still, even the airport is only slowly starting to wake up.
Spencer gets his huge suitcase out from the boot, and Jon walks around the car, is looking from Spencer to the revolving doors of the terminal. “Dae ye want me tae come inside wit ye?” Jon asks.
“That’s okay, ew can go home an sleep some more.”
If Jon comes inside, Spencer is afraid he will do something stupid like change his mind.
“Okay,” Jon exhales. Spencer is going to go and be gone, and Jon can’t wrap his mind around that. He doesn’t understand Spencer not being there anymore. How could he let himself get used to Spencer like that?
“I’m goin home,” Spencer whispers and manages to smile.
“Ye happy?”
“Yeah. Sad too, but... I’m happy.”
It’s good. It’s what Spencer said he wants in life, and it’s not a bad thing to want. Jon knows Brendon wants to change the world, and Ryan probably has some vague notions of contributing to the human knowledge, and all of these are worthy causes. There is no one right way of spending a life. Jon hasn’t really realised that until now.
“About that... that time with Tom,” Spencer begins. He looks down to his shoes. “It was... good fun, but… Sometimes, I wish it had just been ew an me.”
“Aye. Me too.”
What they had was too private to be shared with a third party – they just didn’t realise it at the time. Jon’s heart flares at the thought, and he can’t. He can’t do this, he doesn’t know how. Fuck, he can’t break down.
Spencer is staring at him, suddenly laughing out loud. “Well. Can I get a cwch out of ew?”
Jon laughs but chokes on it, and he steps over and pulls Spencer to him. The hug is tight with no intentions from either one to let go. And Spencer’s smile turns into a frown that he hides into Jon’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent.
“Ew saved me,” Spencer says. Jon makes a protesting sound, but Spencer says, “Ew did.” Jon saved him, made him better, changed and moulded him in a way Spencer never knew another person could. Spencer would have perished without him.
Jon feels the words, the words, swirling inside him, fighting to find a way out. And Jon has never said them to anyone, never thought he would, but he can’t stop them from spilling out. “Spencer, ah –”
“Ew don’t have to say it,” Spencer says, and he pulls back enough to look Jon in the eyes. “I know. Well, I... hoped.”
Jon nods, blinking more than necessary. Spencer knows. That’s good.
“I do too,” Spencer says, and he smiles a bit too wide over the confession, knowing that they never would have said anything if it hadn’t come down to this. But it has, and Spencer can’t leave not telling Jon how he felt. How he feels.
Jon kisses him. Spencer clings onto it, knowing that what they have will never exist in another time, and that they will never be like this again. Jon pulls back a little, but Spencer steps forward for another kiss because that couldn’t have been the last one. There has to be at least a few more, a bit more time. Maybe he should’ve asked Jon to keep on driving.
When they pull apart, Jon notices that Spencer’s eyes are glistening. And they look even more beautiful like that. Spencer whispers, “Don’t go changing on me, Jon Walker.”
Jon laughs desperately. He wouldn’t dream of it. He would never.
Spencer steps away, grabs onto the handle of the suitcase. Jon shivers, all the way to his heart and bones, but he smiles at Spencer and hides it.
“Later, yeah?” Spencer asks.
“Aye. Later.”
There is no later. They know that.
Spencer keeps smiling, and Jon watches Spencer turn around and walk away. Spencer heads for the terminal as tears spill onto his cheeks. He walks faster.
Jon turns around, gets back into the car, drives off without looking back. Jon can barely breathe, and he has to pull over to the side of the road, head resting against the wheel and knuckles white as he tries to breathe because Spencer is gone, is gone now, isn’t there anymore, and Jon can’t fucking believe it. He bangs the dashboard with his fist as he breaks down.
Spencer made Jon break half a dozen promises he had made to himself. Sometimes, the people who change your life are only short acquaintances, but the impact they leave lasts a lifetime. And if Jon could have ever made it work with anyone, it would have been with Spencer. And he hopes Spencer knows that.
He is pretty sure Spencer knew that.
“Come on, Ryan!” Brendon says insistently as he dashes for the right platform of the train station.
“Easy for yeh to say! Yer rucksack is nowhere near as heavy as mine!” Ryan retorts as sweat rolls down the side of his face, and who knew India was so goddamn hot? And funny smelling. It smells spicy, a bit like the king prawn Rogan josh that Ryan used to get from that Indian takeaway down the street. Ryan adored that place. He squeezes past locals babbling in a language he doesn’t understand, keeping his eyes on Brendon’s rucksack swinging a few metres ahead.
Their train disappears around the corner just as they get to the platform. They are panting in the brutal sunlight, covering their eyes and blinking after it. “Goddammit!” Brendon mutters.
“I don’t think there’s another train to Jabalpur until tomorrow.”
“Really?” Brendon asks and groans. “Just our luck.”
Ryan lifts an eyebrow that clearly says they wouldn’t have missed their train hadn’t Brendon felt it necessary to fuck twice before checking out of their hotel. Also, why did Brendon bring Soldier Boy along to their conquest of the world? Brendon should have known how distracting Ryan would find it.
“Guess we’re stuck here,” Brendon concludes before grinning wildly. He has never been as happy in his life. And the world? It’s amazing. It’s full of life, buzzing everywhere, filled with wonder. It’s everything Brendon ever dreamed of and more, and having Ryan there with him only makes the colours brighter. “Let’s go find a café and send people postcards,” he suggests.
Ryan can tell that Brendon doesn’t actually care about being stranded, and to be honest, Ryan doesn’t give a damn either.
Ryan adjusts the rucksack on his back and leads the way back out, chuckling at the sight of a white cow standing in the middle of the road, disturbing traffic. “Let’s send Jon a card with one of these holy cows on it.”
“Yeah,” Brendon agrees, smiling at the way the humid air makes the tips of Ryan’s hair curl. He is going to marry that man. Well, if they live some place that allows that. But he knows it already, even if Ryan doesn’t. Brendon also knows that the two of them can zigzag across the world a dozen times if they want to, but he is home. Ryan is there with him, and Brendon is finally home. “And let’s send a Dalai Lama postcard to Spencer, or one that looks really sunny so that he’ll get pissy that Russia is so cold.”
“Well, that goes without sayin,” Ryan observes.
