extemporally (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
extemporally) wrote2009-02-03 11:21 pm
extemporally) wrote2009-02-03 11:21 pm
Entry tags:
fic: One Of England's Finest (5/5)
part iv.
The next day, when they were all walking down the halls together, Brendon said suddenly, "I don’t understand why you all hate Jon."
Spencer looked up sharply; Brendon got the idea that he’d been steeling himself for a confrontation like this for a long time. He himself didn’t know where that had come from. Meanwhile, Ryan stiffened.
"We don’t hate him, Brendon," Spencer said, in his most reasonable voice.
Brendon said, "Well, I don’t understand why you strongly dislike him, then. Is he not good enough for you? He saved kittens! And also Siska!"
Ryan said sullenly, "It’s not that."
Frustrated, Brendon said, "What is it?"
Ryan looked away and didn’t say anything. After a long pause, he said, "Walker’s older than us."
"What?" Brendon said incredulously. "You’re older than Spencer!"
"That’s different," Ryan argued.
Spencer sighed and said, "What Ryan’s trying to say is that he runs with a fast crowd, Brendon."
Brendon bit his lip hard, to avoid mentioning Pete, who unquestionably ran with the "fast crowd" Ryan so patently disapproved of. "You said you didn’t believe in those rumours! And anyway… they’re rather nice."
"I suppose," Spencer said, although he didn’t sound totally convinced. Ryan grunted. Brendon had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and looked at Spencer pleadingly.
Spencer sighed. "I don’t have any problem with you hanging out with Jon, Brendon," he said finally, and Ryan whipped his head around to look at Spencer so fast Brendon was convinced that he had whiplash.
"Hey," Spencer said at Ryan defensively, "I’m just telling it as it is." To Brendon he said, "Just don’t get hurt, all right? Also, we are pretending that we never had this conversation, this is too much for me."
Utterly baffled, Brendon said " – but why would I get hurt – oh, my God. Be quiet, fellows –" even though he was the only one speaking at the moment, " – they’re coming."
Spencer and Ryan looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
Sure enough, Jon was striding down the hallway with fellow sixth-formers Gabe Saporta and Tom Conrad – well, Saporta was striding, at least. He was also wearing a purple hat, which tended to overshadow the rest of his uniform. However, what Conrad was doing could be more accurately described as shuffling, while Jon certainly never strode anywhere. His manner of walking, Brendon thought, was more accurately described as a sort of ambling.
Which was fine. Ambling was, in Brendon’s opinion, a far superior method of locomotion to striding or shuffling. Then Brendon stopped his mental babble, because their group was speedily heading towards Spencer, Ryan, and Brendon.
"Hey, Brendon," Jon grinned at him, as they drew nearer. "How’s tricks?"
Brendon took a deep breath and tried to pretend his heart wasn’t slamming in his chest as he spoke. Inconvenient, that. "I’m fine, thanks." His voice came out a little squeaky. "How’re you?"
Gabe rolled his eyes slightly, and Brendon didn’t blame him for scorning their uninspiring small talk. "So, how’s young love?" he asked Spencer and Ryan loudly.
Brendon wasn’t surprised to see Ryan stiffen slightly; they were trying to keep their relationship a secret. Fortunately, so far no one had noticed anything – or so they had thought.
Spencer put a restraining arm on Ryan’s. "I hear nowhere as epic as yours and Beckett’s, Gabe," he said coolly.
Now it was Brendon’s turn to wince. Why did both his and Jon’s friends have to be such utter asses? Things would be much better; he thought, if everyone was as nice and easygoing as Jon and him. It would be a much nicer world.
Tom shuffled uneasily on the other side of Jon, and Gabe’s eyes flicked imperceptibly to him before returning his attention to the Saporta-Smith verbal volley. Personally, Brendon would have found it more entertaining than a debating tournament had it not been Spencer and Ryan’s relationship that was being discussed.
"Ours is one of true, platonic, and manly love," Gabe declared, slinging an arm around Jon for emphasis. "As opposed to yours."
"Our what, exactly?" Brendon marveled at Spencer’s ability to speak words in such an even tone, especiallywhen his fists were clenched so by his sides. He could not help darting his eyes between Gabe and Spencer as each of them took turns to speak.
"Little girls, of course," Gabe looked down on them, and once more Brendon cursed his body for not delivering an growth spurt yet; sometimes he thought it would never come. Meanwhile, Spencer tried to unfold his body from its slouch and stood as straight as he could. While it did add a considerable few inches to his height, he didn’t even come near grazing Gabe’s chin.
Brendon tried to do the same, and Gabe tossed a fond smile at him. Brendon didn’t understand it: clearly Gabe liked and approved of him, so why was he torturing Ryan and Spencer so? Next to him, Ryan had started grinding his teeth.
"Gabe."
Jon spoke, and Gabe unwillingly turned his head to look at him. They held each other’s gazes for a long time, and Jon leaned forward to whisper in Gabe’s ear. Brendon felt a pang inside him, for no good reason. Unconsciously, he inclined his body forward unobtrusively, and thought he heard Jon whisper, "… really sure you want to do this?"
Gabe’s head snapped back to Ryan and Spencer while Jon spoke, and eyed them calculatingly.
"Oh, all right," he said, and jerked his head at them before walking off.
Tom skulked forward and pulled at Jon’s sleeve, and Jon said, "I’ll see you around, Brendon," his smile bright, eyes full of an expression Brendon couldn’t quite decipher, before nodding to Ryan and Spencer. They gave him careful nods in return. Then he was gone.
After they were out of earshot, Brendon looked at Ryan and Spencer. He didn’t know what to say, but felt oddly triumphant at having his opinion of Jon Walker somewhat validated, so he said, "Well!" It seemed to fit the occasion, so he said it again. "Well!"
"Oh, shut up, Brendon," Ryan said grumpily. Brendon interpreted it as a concession, while Spencer stroked Ryan’s palm.
--
When they finally got to the table they all shared at lunch, Gabe came over and Brendon could feel his friends tensing up again. Please, he prayed, don’t do anything stupid, Gabe. Brendon didn’t know how he would react if Ryan and Spencer had another huge row because of Gabe, and quite frankly he couldn’t begin to imagine it. So it was with a certain tremulousness that he said, "Oh, hello, Gabe," and smiled at him.
Gabe paused, two steps away from their table, and shot another dazzling smile their way.
"Hullo, chaps!"
When he realized it didn’t have quite the effect he had intended, he dropped it and adopted a rather serious expression. He took his hat off and turned it around in his hands, before saying: "I’m sorry for all that tosh I said."
Ryan and Spencer relaxed noticeably – they weren’t quite as hard to read once you’d learnt the signs, Brendon thought. He, too, allowed himself to slump a little. Gabe kept talking.
"I just like saying things sometimes, you know? And most of my friends know how not to take me seriously, but I guess –" he shrugged. "Anyway, I’m pretty sorry, and well. Pax?" It was a gigantic bar of chocolate he proffered, and Ryan made a grab for it, peeling off the tinfoil and breaking off a piece before Brendon could so much as blink.
"Ryan!" he and Spencer hissed at the same time. Ryan looked up. "What? Oh, yeah. Um, consider yourself forgiven and everything, Saporta. Pax!" He even managed to offer Gabe a smile, which was rather difficult considering that he had chocolate lodged in both his cheeks.
Gabe paused, and Brendon and Spencer both smiled at him – Brendon winningly, Spencer with a little more reserve. Gabe took that as his cue to leave, satisfied with his apology.
As he sauntered away, he said over his shoulder, "I’m really sorry, pretty much, but Walker’s the one who made me apologise. You should thank him." Brendon and Spencer turned raised eyebrows at each other, and even Ryan summoned up an interested look from where he was currently hunched over the chocolate bar.
"Well!" Brendon said, and this time he said it even more smugly than before. Oh yes, he thought.
--
By the time the entire chocolate bar (fruit and nut, Brendon’s favourite) had finally been demolished, Brendon had finally extracted a full confession from Ryan Ross, on the manifold merits of a certain Jon Walker, and was in the process of making him repeat it.
"Say it again, Ryan, come on!"
Ryan looked unconvinced, and endlessly put upon. "Come on, Ryan," Brendon wheedled. "You know you owe it to me and Jon."
Ryan sighed. "Fine," he said, in a voice Brendon would have thought vicious had he not known better. "You were right. Jon is an excellent person with an upstanding character, and much nicer than I could ever hope to be. I’m not saying that bit about his nice smile again, Brendon, don’t push your luck. We have needlessly misjudged him, and will endeavour to correct this behavior in the future, when we will welcome him with open arms and an open heart. There. I hope you’re satisfied now."
"Perfect," Brendon said happily.
"So," Spencer said conversationally, evidently deciding that Ryan had had enough, "When are you going to finally get your act together?"
Brendon was confused. "What?"
Spencer slung his arm around Ryan’s chair and leaned forward. "Please don’t have another homosexual freak out," he said, and Brendon would protest – excuse me, who had the first one? – except that Spencer was saying, "We’ve given you our guardian-ly approval, and have established that Jon Walker is a fine young man of outstanding upbringing, so we say go for it." Ryan winked at him. Brendon sat there, stunned.
"Well," Ryan said impatiently. "What are you waiting for? We say go for it."
Brendon got the idea that he was expected to move, so he got out of his seat and stumbled away, without even finishing his pudding. He was halfway across the room when he remembered it.
--
The problem was, having got out of the dining hall, he had no idea where to go. Brendon eventually ended up at the music room, as he was wont to do in such moments of deep emotional crisis.
He opened the first door, before realizing that Jon was inside the room, playing the sousaphone. He recalled a conversation they’d had:
"You play the sousaphone?"
"Yes, I really like it, all the BA-DE-DAH."
Jon had gone on to describe the fingering on the sousaphone, and Brendon had laughed and demanded to try it, and in a few minutes had managed to stumble through Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on it, as Jon had clapped along, saying at the end, "You’re pretty good at this."
He continued watching Jon through the inner door, before realizing that that was a pretty creepy thing to do. He took a deep breath and pushed his way in through the second door.
Inside, Jon raised his eyebrows, then released the sousaphone from his mouth with a pop and lowered the instrument.
"What’s up, Brendon?"
Brendon clenched his fists by his side, then realized that he was acting strangely, and did his best to smile.
"Nothing much," he said, hoping his voice remained steady. "Gabe apologized to Spencer and Ryan – thanks for… well, thank you."
Jon gave Brendon a look that said I don't know what you're talking about, but deflated under Brendon’s gaze. Jon wasn’t getting away with – with being so awesome and not knowing everyone knew it! Brendon’s thoughts grew more and more jumbled.
"Yeah, well," Jon scrubbed at his hair awkwardly – that same action, the same one Brendon always found so enduring, "Gabe’s not a bad person, you know? He tends to shoot off his mouth a little sometimes, but he means well, and –"
He was cut off by Brendon leaning forward, breathing hard. Jon looked more than a little startled, and Brendon reflected briefly that it was too late to lean back, if he ever considered such a thing, and heard a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his father’s saying courage and grace, my son before he leaned forward and said, "I –" all in the few milliseconds between him starting to lean forward and his actually pressing his lips to Jon’s.
Not the most eloquent of words, but it seemed to do the trick. It seemed that Brendon was leaning forward almost too much to kiss Jon, on the ridiculously high music stool, and seized his blazer in order to avoid falling forward, then realized what he was doing and nearly let go again, feeling the crisp cotton crumple underneath his fingers.
But then it didn’t matter, none of it did, because Jon was leaning forward, he was leaning forward into the kiss, and he was kissing back, and Brendon felt like there was a hummingbird nestled in his chest, his pulse was racing that fast. After Brendon accepted that Jon wasn’t going to push him away any moment now, they came even closer, and their noses bumped up against each other. Jon chuckled – Brendon could feel it at the back of his throat, and his hands came up to cradle and tilt Brendon’s face, angled against his, and Jon’s tongue hit Brendon’s cheek and it was perfect, all of it.
But because Jon’s hands were cradled against the back of Brendon’s neck (which Brendon may or may not have purred at; he could sink into that touch forever), his sousaphone slipped to the ground with a loud crash. Brendon and Jon came apart, looking at each other sheepishly. Brendon wanted to touch his lips, but even without doing so he knew they were swollen. He watched as Jon bent down to pick it up, and saw the base of his neck, where Jon’s hairline met his starched collar, and tried not to think too hard about the heated feeling he got in the base of his belly, coiling and uncoiling.
But then Jon looked up, with a smile which on anyone else would have looked positively wolfish, and Brendon found it only too easy to lean forward again and kiss him once more. Jon laughed gently into Brendon’s mouth, and Brendon felt his breath billow against the back of his throat.
"What?" he demanded, pulling away yet again to look at Jon’s brown eyes, and his shiny lower lip.
Jon laughed. "I’m just – I’m just surprised you started kissing me both times, that’s all," he said. There was a pause, then: "It’s a good kind of surprised," he said, reassuringly.
Brendon smiled gleefully. "That means I wear the pants in this relationship!" He then bit his tongue for mentioning the word relationship, he didn’t want to be a girl, after all – but when he looked up anxiously Jon was still smiling at him with those eyes and that mouth, that mouth he’d used to kiss him.
Brendon really couldn’t help it then; he strutted a little. I’m with Jon Walker, I’m in the music room kissing him! He recalled a picture he’d once seen, where the protagonist scaled walls and leaped out windows and jumped so he could kiss the ceiling, and he felt like that right now, he felt like he could climb the sky right now.
Jon smiled, and it was sharp and bright and just the way Brendon liked it. "I’m rather sure it doesn’t work that way," he said, amused, then, just to be sure, pulled Brendon in for another kiss this time.
--
Soon, before Brendon knew it, the term was winding to an end.
There were exams, but Brendon had done good work through the term ("despite the emotional upheaval I was subjected to," he said reprovingly at Spencer and Ryan, who merely rolled their eyes) and thus did rather well. He told Jon it because of the extensive tutoring he had been given, but Jon merely laughed at him. He of all people only knew what went on during those exclusive study sessions between the both of them.
Brendon felt a certain pang of triumph as his good report was sent away to China, for his parents’ perusal, when they had a moment to spare from redeeming the heathens.
"Strange," Brendon said, as the report was put in the village postbox, "to think that my school report shall go all the way to the Far East!" Jon smiled into the top of Brendon’s head; he could feel it on his scalp through his hair.
When they were back at Malory Towers, Jon asked, "What goes around the corner and stays in the world?"
Brendon frowned, puzzled. "I don’t know."
"It’s a riddle."
"I give up, tell me the answer, Jon."
"You can’t just give up; you’ve got to guess."
Brendon sighed, but it was very hard to sound put-upon when they were on Jon’s sofa in his study, nestled against each other, Jon’s chest pressed against his spine. "Very well," he said, and sighed again just for good effect. "A Jon Walker?"
Jon smiled again; this time Brendon knew it even though they weren’t facing each other; just from the sounds he made when he exhaled. "No, you aren’t trying properly," he said, and lunged to tickle Brendon’s ribs, and Brendon dissolved into a loose mess of helpless laughter, trying to get away but really just wriggling further into Jon’s chest.
"I give up, Jon, I really give up," Brendon gasped, flailing around. "Please tell me, pleeeeease."
Jon smirked, and lifted his fingers. Brendon lay on his back, trying to get as much air as his lungs could hold. "It’s a stamp!" Jon announced proudly. "Bet you wouldn’t have guessed that, even in a million years."
Brendon thought about it, and began laughing even harder than he had when Jon had evilly started tickling him – it wasn’t fair, now that Jon knew all his ticklish spots – and literally went into dry heaves, able only to thump the arm of the sofa to express his extreme amusement. Jon stared at him, a wrinkle forming in his forehead. Brendon could see the speech bubble above his head, like the one in his penny comics that Ryan said was for little boys, I’m pretty sure my riddle wasn’t that funny!
"What is it?" Jon asked.
"Jon," Brendon wheezed, "Did you mean to say it goes around the world and stays in the corner?"
--
And then the last day of term had truly arrived. For Spencer and Ryan, it wasn’t quite as big a deal – it merely meant that instead of being able to spend almost every hour together, they could now become formally surgically attached at the hip. ("Conjoined twins," Brendon said, waggling his eyebrows. Spencer had told him to shut up, while Ryan had only bothered with an elbow to Brendon’s ribs.)
Jon would be going to spend his holidays in London, at a relative’s home, so at least they were traveling part of the way on the train together.
"I’m going to have a tutor," he had said sadly. "To prepare for the school certificate next term." Brendon tried not to droop at that pronouncement, for he would be practically halfway across the country, staying at his manic Uncle Frank’s house. He was a nice person, but no one could really compare to Jon, in Brendon’s opinion.
Jon chucked Brendon’s chin, gently. "I’ll write to you, doofus," he said, and Brendon couldn’t help brightening.
And when Spencer said, "My mother wants to invite you for an extended visit," Brendon couldn’t help but feel better.
"Really?" he said hopefully, trying not to sound too excited about it.
"No," Spencer said snidely, "I just said it to mess with your mind. Tell me again – why does my mother love all my stupid friends so much? More than she loves me, I suspect."
Brendon took that as his cue to leap on him. "We love you, Spencer Smith!" He motioned to Jon frantically, and Jon took the cue to nod earnestly, while trying not to smile too hard. Spencer rolled his eyes after they pulled apart, but there was no doubting that he looked a little pink and more than a little pleased.
"Oh, one more thing," Brendon said innocently. "Can she ask Jon too?"
Spencer rolled his eyes, saying, "Knew you’d say that."
Jon said affably, "Sorry, Brendon. Spencer asked me already. Spencer asked me first."
"No, you’re just saying that!" Brendon protested, and Ryan was about to say something when the station guard blew his whistle, and the train started pulling out of the station. Spencer and Ryan, standing on the platform, waved and waved until they became distant figures. Brendon took the last chance to lean precariously out the window, and shouted back at them, "You’d better write! Thrice a week, at least! Each!"
Brendon didn’t know if they heard him. As he settled back into his seat before the station guard could catch him, he blew his fringe out of his eyes and smiled at Jon, who smiled back.
"Well!” Brendon said. “It has been a term!"
Feedback is love.
The next day, when they were all walking down the halls together, Brendon said suddenly, "I don’t understand why you all hate Jon."
Spencer looked up sharply; Brendon got the idea that he’d been steeling himself for a confrontation like this for a long time. He himself didn’t know where that had come from. Meanwhile, Ryan stiffened.
"We don’t hate him, Brendon," Spencer said, in his most reasonable voice.
Brendon said, "Well, I don’t understand why you strongly dislike him, then. Is he not good enough for you? He saved kittens! And also Siska!"
Ryan said sullenly, "It’s not that."
Frustrated, Brendon said, "What is it?"
Ryan looked away and didn’t say anything. After a long pause, he said, "Walker’s older than us."
"What?" Brendon said incredulously. "You’re older than Spencer!"
"That’s different," Ryan argued.
Spencer sighed and said, "What Ryan’s trying to say is that he runs with a fast crowd, Brendon."
Brendon bit his lip hard, to avoid mentioning Pete, who unquestionably ran with the "fast crowd" Ryan so patently disapproved of. "You said you didn’t believe in those rumours! And anyway… they’re rather nice."
"I suppose," Spencer said, although he didn’t sound totally convinced. Ryan grunted. Brendon had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and looked at Spencer pleadingly.
Spencer sighed. "I don’t have any problem with you hanging out with Jon, Brendon," he said finally, and Ryan whipped his head around to look at Spencer so fast Brendon was convinced that he had whiplash.
"Hey," Spencer said at Ryan defensively, "I’m just telling it as it is." To Brendon he said, "Just don’t get hurt, all right? Also, we are pretending that we never had this conversation, this is too much for me."
Utterly baffled, Brendon said " – but why would I get hurt – oh, my God. Be quiet, fellows –" even though he was the only one speaking at the moment, " – they’re coming."
Spencer and Ryan looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
Sure enough, Jon was striding down the hallway with fellow sixth-formers Gabe Saporta and Tom Conrad – well, Saporta was striding, at least. He was also wearing a purple hat, which tended to overshadow the rest of his uniform. However, what Conrad was doing could be more accurately described as shuffling, while Jon certainly never strode anywhere. His manner of walking, Brendon thought, was more accurately described as a sort of ambling.
Which was fine. Ambling was, in Brendon’s opinion, a far superior method of locomotion to striding or shuffling. Then Brendon stopped his mental babble, because their group was speedily heading towards Spencer, Ryan, and Brendon.
"Hey, Brendon," Jon grinned at him, as they drew nearer. "How’s tricks?"
Brendon took a deep breath and tried to pretend his heart wasn’t slamming in his chest as he spoke. Inconvenient, that. "I’m fine, thanks." His voice came out a little squeaky. "How’re you?"
Gabe rolled his eyes slightly, and Brendon didn’t blame him for scorning their uninspiring small talk. "So, how’s young love?" he asked Spencer and Ryan loudly.
Brendon wasn’t surprised to see Ryan stiffen slightly; they were trying to keep their relationship a secret. Fortunately, so far no one had noticed anything – or so they had thought.
Spencer put a restraining arm on Ryan’s. "I hear nowhere as epic as yours and Beckett’s, Gabe," he said coolly.
Now it was Brendon’s turn to wince. Why did both his and Jon’s friends have to be such utter asses? Things would be much better; he thought, if everyone was as nice and easygoing as Jon and him. It would be a much nicer world.
Tom shuffled uneasily on the other side of Jon, and Gabe’s eyes flicked imperceptibly to him before returning his attention to the Saporta-Smith verbal volley. Personally, Brendon would have found it more entertaining than a debating tournament had it not been Spencer and Ryan’s relationship that was being discussed.
"Ours is one of true, platonic, and manly love," Gabe declared, slinging an arm around Jon for emphasis. "As opposed to yours."
"Our what, exactly?" Brendon marveled at Spencer’s ability to speak words in such an even tone, especiallywhen his fists were clenched so by his sides. He could not help darting his eyes between Gabe and Spencer as each of them took turns to speak.
"Little girls, of course," Gabe looked down on them, and once more Brendon cursed his body for not delivering an growth spurt yet; sometimes he thought it would never come. Meanwhile, Spencer tried to unfold his body from its slouch and stood as straight as he could. While it did add a considerable few inches to his height, he didn’t even come near grazing Gabe’s chin.
Brendon tried to do the same, and Gabe tossed a fond smile at him. Brendon didn’t understand it: clearly Gabe liked and approved of him, so why was he torturing Ryan and Spencer so? Next to him, Ryan had started grinding his teeth.
"Gabe."
Jon spoke, and Gabe unwillingly turned his head to look at him. They held each other’s gazes for a long time, and Jon leaned forward to whisper in Gabe’s ear. Brendon felt a pang inside him, for no good reason. Unconsciously, he inclined his body forward unobtrusively, and thought he heard Jon whisper, "… really sure you want to do this?"
Gabe’s head snapped back to Ryan and Spencer while Jon spoke, and eyed them calculatingly.
"Oh, all right," he said, and jerked his head at them before walking off.
Tom skulked forward and pulled at Jon’s sleeve, and Jon said, "I’ll see you around, Brendon," his smile bright, eyes full of an expression Brendon couldn’t quite decipher, before nodding to Ryan and Spencer. They gave him careful nods in return. Then he was gone.
After they were out of earshot, Brendon looked at Ryan and Spencer. He didn’t know what to say, but felt oddly triumphant at having his opinion of Jon Walker somewhat validated, so he said, "Well!" It seemed to fit the occasion, so he said it again. "Well!"
"Oh, shut up, Brendon," Ryan said grumpily. Brendon interpreted it as a concession, while Spencer stroked Ryan’s palm.
--
When they finally got to the table they all shared at lunch, Gabe came over and Brendon could feel his friends tensing up again. Please, he prayed, don’t do anything stupid, Gabe. Brendon didn’t know how he would react if Ryan and Spencer had another huge row because of Gabe, and quite frankly he couldn’t begin to imagine it. So it was with a certain tremulousness that he said, "Oh, hello, Gabe," and smiled at him.
Gabe paused, two steps away from their table, and shot another dazzling smile their way.
"Hullo, chaps!"
When he realized it didn’t have quite the effect he had intended, he dropped it and adopted a rather serious expression. He took his hat off and turned it around in his hands, before saying: "I’m sorry for all that tosh I said."
Ryan and Spencer relaxed noticeably – they weren’t quite as hard to read once you’d learnt the signs, Brendon thought. He, too, allowed himself to slump a little. Gabe kept talking.
"I just like saying things sometimes, you know? And most of my friends know how not to take me seriously, but I guess –" he shrugged. "Anyway, I’m pretty sorry, and well. Pax?" It was a gigantic bar of chocolate he proffered, and Ryan made a grab for it, peeling off the tinfoil and breaking off a piece before Brendon could so much as blink.
"Ryan!" he and Spencer hissed at the same time. Ryan looked up. "What? Oh, yeah. Um, consider yourself forgiven and everything, Saporta. Pax!" He even managed to offer Gabe a smile, which was rather difficult considering that he had chocolate lodged in both his cheeks.
Gabe paused, and Brendon and Spencer both smiled at him – Brendon winningly, Spencer with a little more reserve. Gabe took that as his cue to leave, satisfied with his apology.
As he sauntered away, he said over his shoulder, "I’m really sorry, pretty much, but Walker’s the one who made me apologise. You should thank him." Brendon and Spencer turned raised eyebrows at each other, and even Ryan summoned up an interested look from where he was currently hunched over the chocolate bar.
"Well!" Brendon said, and this time he said it even more smugly than before. Oh yes, he thought.
--
By the time the entire chocolate bar (fruit and nut, Brendon’s favourite) had finally been demolished, Brendon had finally extracted a full confession from Ryan Ross, on the manifold merits of a certain Jon Walker, and was in the process of making him repeat it.
"Say it again, Ryan, come on!"
Ryan looked unconvinced, and endlessly put upon. "Come on, Ryan," Brendon wheedled. "You know you owe it to me and Jon."
Ryan sighed. "Fine," he said, in a voice Brendon would have thought vicious had he not known better. "You were right. Jon is an excellent person with an upstanding character, and much nicer than I could ever hope to be. I’m not saying that bit about his nice smile again, Brendon, don’t push your luck. We have needlessly misjudged him, and will endeavour to correct this behavior in the future, when we will welcome him with open arms and an open heart. There. I hope you’re satisfied now."
"Perfect," Brendon said happily.
"So," Spencer said conversationally, evidently deciding that Ryan had had enough, "When are you going to finally get your act together?"
Brendon was confused. "What?"
Spencer slung his arm around Ryan’s chair and leaned forward. "Please don’t have another homosexual freak out," he said, and Brendon would protest – excuse me, who had the first one? – except that Spencer was saying, "We’ve given you our guardian-ly approval, and have established that Jon Walker is a fine young man of outstanding upbringing, so we say go for it." Ryan winked at him. Brendon sat there, stunned.
"Well," Ryan said impatiently. "What are you waiting for? We say go for it."
Brendon got the idea that he was expected to move, so he got out of his seat and stumbled away, without even finishing his pudding. He was halfway across the room when he remembered it.
--
The problem was, having got out of the dining hall, he had no idea where to go. Brendon eventually ended up at the music room, as he was wont to do in such moments of deep emotional crisis.
He opened the first door, before realizing that Jon was inside the room, playing the sousaphone. He recalled a conversation they’d had:
"You play the sousaphone?"
"Yes, I really like it, all the BA-DE-DAH."
Jon had gone on to describe the fingering on the sousaphone, and Brendon had laughed and demanded to try it, and in a few minutes had managed to stumble through Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on it, as Jon had clapped along, saying at the end, "You’re pretty good at this."
He continued watching Jon through the inner door, before realizing that that was a pretty creepy thing to do. He took a deep breath and pushed his way in through the second door.
Inside, Jon raised his eyebrows, then released the sousaphone from his mouth with a pop and lowered the instrument.
"What’s up, Brendon?"
Brendon clenched his fists by his side, then realized that he was acting strangely, and did his best to smile.
"Nothing much," he said, hoping his voice remained steady. "Gabe apologized to Spencer and Ryan – thanks for… well, thank you."
Jon gave Brendon a look that said I don't know what you're talking about, but deflated under Brendon’s gaze. Jon wasn’t getting away with – with being so awesome and not knowing everyone knew it! Brendon’s thoughts grew more and more jumbled.
"Yeah, well," Jon scrubbed at his hair awkwardly – that same action, the same one Brendon always found so enduring, "Gabe’s not a bad person, you know? He tends to shoot off his mouth a little sometimes, but he means well, and –"
He was cut off by Brendon leaning forward, breathing hard. Jon looked more than a little startled, and Brendon reflected briefly that it was too late to lean back, if he ever considered such a thing, and heard a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his father’s saying courage and grace, my son before he leaned forward and said, "I –" all in the few milliseconds between him starting to lean forward and his actually pressing his lips to Jon’s.
Not the most eloquent of words, but it seemed to do the trick. It seemed that Brendon was leaning forward almost too much to kiss Jon, on the ridiculously high music stool, and seized his blazer in order to avoid falling forward, then realized what he was doing and nearly let go again, feeling the crisp cotton crumple underneath his fingers.
But then it didn’t matter, none of it did, because Jon was leaning forward, he was leaning forward into the kiss, and he was kissing back, and Brendon felt like there was a hummingbird nestled in his chest, his pulse was racing that fast. After Brendon accepted that Jon wasn’t going to push him away any moment now, they came even closer, and their noses bumped up against each other. Jon chuckled – Brendon could feel it at the back of his throat, and his hands came up to cradle and tilt Brendon’s face, angled against his, and Jon’s tongue hit Brendon’s cheek and it was perfect, all of it.
But because Jon’s hands were cradled against the back of Brendon’s neck (which Brendon may or may not have purred at; he could sink into that touch forever), his sousaphone slipped to the ground with a loud crash. Brendon and Jon came apart, looking at each other sheepishly. Brendon wanted to touch his lips, but even without doing so he knew they were swollen. He watched as Jon bent down to pick it up, and saw the base of his neck, where Jon’s hairline met his starched collar, and tried not to think too hard about the heated feeling he got in the base of his belly, coiling and uncoiling.
But then Jon looked up, with a smile which on anyone else would have looked positively wolfish, and Brendon found it only too easy to lean forward again and kiss him once more. Jon laughed gently into Brendon’s mouth, and Brendon felt his breath billow against the back of his throat.
"What?" he demanded, pulling away yet again to look at Jon’s brown eyes, and his shiny lower lip.
Jon laughed. "I’m just – I’m just surprised you started kissing me both times, that’s all," he said. There was a pause, then: "It’s a good kind of surprised," he said, reassuringly.
Brendon smiled gleefully. "That means I wear the pants in this relationship!" He then bit his tongue for mentioning the word relationship, he didn’t want to be a girl, after all – but when he looked up anxiously Jon was still smiling at him with those eyes and that mouth, that mouth he’d used to kiss him.
Brendon really couldn’t help it then; he strutted a little. I’m with Jon Walker, I’m in the music room kissing him! He recalled a picture he’d once seen, where the protagonist scaled walls and leaped out windows and jumped so he could kiss the ceiling, and he felt like that right now, he felt like he could climb the sky right now.
Jon smiled, and it was sharp and bright and just the way Brendon liked it. "I’m rather sure it doesn’t work that way," he said, amused, then, just to be sure, pulled Brendon in for another kiss this time.
--
Soon, before Brendon knew it, the term was winding to an end.
There were exams, but Brendon had done good work through the term ("despite the emotional upheaval I was subjected to," he said reprovingly at Spencer and Ryan, who merely rolled their eyes) and thus did rather well. He told Jon it because of the extensive tutoring he had been given, but Jon merely laughed at him. He of all people only knew what went on during those exclusive study sessions between the both of them.
Brendon felt a certain pang of triumph as his good report was sent away to China, for his parents’ perusal, when they had a moment to spare from redeeming the heathens.
"Strange," Brendon said, as the report was put in the village postbox, "to think that my school report shall go all the way to the Far East!" Jon smiled into the top of Brendon’s head; he could feel it on his scalp through his hair.
When they were back at Malory Towers, Jon asked, "What goes around the corner and stays in the world?"
Brendon frowned, puzzled. "I don’t know."
"It’s a riddle."
"I give up, tell me the answer, Jon."
"You can’t just give up; you’ve got to guess."
Brendon sighed, but it was very hard to sound put-upon when they were on Jon’s sofa in his study, nestled against each other, Jon’s chest pressed against his spine. "Very well," he said, and sighed again just for good effect. "A Jon Walker?"
Jon smiled again; this time Brendon knew it even though they weren’t facing each other; just from the sounds he made when he exhaled. "No, you aren’t trying properly," he said, and lunged to tickle Brendon’s ribs, and Brendon dissolved into a loose mess of helpless laughter, trying to get away but really just wriggling further into Jon’s chest.
"I give up, Jon, I really give up," Brendon gasped, flailing around. "Please tell me, pleeeeease."
Jon smirked, and lifted his fingers. Brendon lay on his back, trying to get as much air as his lungs could hold. "It’s a stamp!" Jon announced proudly. "Bet you wouldn’t have guessed that, even in a million years."
Brendon thought about it, and began laughing even harder than he had when Jon had evilly started tickling him – it wasn’t fair, now that Jon knew all his ticklish spots – and literally went into dry heaves, able only to thump the arm of the sofa to express his extreme amusement. Jon stared at him, a wrinkle forming in his forehead. Brendon could see the speech bubble above his head, like the one in his penny comics that Ryan said was for little boys, I’m pretty sure my riddle wasn’t that funny!
"What is it?" Jon asked.
"Jon," Brendon wheezed, "Did you mean to say it goes around the world and stays in the corner?"
--
And then the last day of term had truly arrived. For Spencer and Ryan, it wasn’t quite as big a deal – it merely meant that instead of being able to spend almost every hour together, they could now become formally surgically attached at the hip. ("Conjoined twins," Brendon said, waggling his eyebrows. Spencer had told him to shut up, while Ryan had only bothered with an elbow to Brendon’s ribs.)
Jon would be going to spend his holidays in London, at a relative’s home, so at least they were traveling part of the way on the train together.
"I’m going to have a tutor," he had said sadly. "To prepare for the school certificate next term." Brendon tried not to droop at that pronouncement, for he would be practically halfway across the country, staying at his manic Uncle Frank’s house. He was a nice person, but no one could really compare to Jon, in Brendon’s opinion.
Jon chucked Brendon’s chin, gently. "I’ll write to you, doofus," he said, and Brendon couldn’t help brightening.
And when Spencer said, "My mother wants to invite you for an extended visit," Brendon couldn’t help but feel better.
"Really?" he said hopefully, trying not to sound too excited about it.
"No," Spencer said snidely, "I just said it to mess with your mind. Tell me again – why does my mother love all my stupid friends so much? More than she loves me, I suspect."
Brendon took that as his cue to leap on him. "We love you, Spencer Smith!" He motioned to Jon frantically, and Jon took the cue to nod earnestly, while trying not to smile too hard. Spencer rolled his eyes after they pulled apart, but there was no doubting that he looked a little pink and more than a little pleased.
"Oh, one more thing," Brendon said innocently. "Can she ask Jon too?"
Spencer rolled his eyes, saying, "Knew you’d say that."
Jon said affably, "Sorry, Brendon. Spencer asked me already. Spencer asked me first."
"No, you’re just saying that!" Brendon protested, and Ryan was about to say something when the station guard blew his whistle, and the train started pulling out of the station. Spencer and Ryan, standing on the platform, waved and waved until they became distant figures. Brendon took the last chance to lean precariously out the window, and shouted back at them, "You’d better write! Thrice a week, at least! Each!"
Brendon didn’t know if they heard him. As he settled back into his seat before the station guard could catch him, he blew his fringe out of his eyes and smiled at Jon, who smiled back.
"Well!” Brendon said. “It has been a term!"
Feedback is love.
YOU'RE AMAZING, YOU KNOW THIS RIGHT?!
i knew it was going to be amazing! OH MY GODDD! SERIOUSLY! I AM BOOKMARKING THIS AND READING IT 500 MORE TIMES!
I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY LOVE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ok yes,great job
ps:have i already mentioned that i love this cause i do! LIKE A LOT!
Re: YOU'RE AMAZING, YOU KNOW THIS RIGHT?!
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Ryan and Spencer were great, I loved how their relationship came about, and their knowledge of Brendon&Jon was lovely.
I really enjoyed this. :)
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And one week later...
Brendon/Jon. It's just... I'm actually speechless. Favourite character, clearly Miss Greta.
You write beautifully.
Re: And one week later...
(Clearly Miss Greta, omg. She's just so blonde and buxom, ok?)
Re: And one week later...
(Greta should appear in everything. But Matron Greta = win.)
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It was really lucky the way I came across this story. I was craving for Ryan/Spencer fics and went to my delicious and came across your story about girl!Spencer and girl!Ryan were in a Catholic school (Did I review that? I can't remember! If I didn't, it was droolworthy, even the 2nd time around!) Done re-reading it, I clicked your tag "ryan/spencer" and ta-dah! More unread fic. Seriously, this story made my otherwise crappy day!
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freaking hearts in my eyes, dude! it's just a bonus that I have almost all the malory towers books, hee.
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