We don’t always get what we want...
This has been floating around my head for a while now. I might write a second part to this later. Hope you enjoy! <3 PRC2
“Ryan, you are being ridiculous! I mean honestly, what does it even have to do with you?” Spencer snaps as he catches Ryan crouched against the wall with a drinking glass to his ear.
Ryan turns toward him, mock offense plastered all over his face. “What? I just want to know what they are talking about.”
“It’s none of your fucking business though! Now, get the hell up off of the floor and come watch TV with me.”
“But-” Ryan starts to plead.
“No! Right now, Ry!” Spencer demands.
“Fine.” Ryan acquiesces sulking like a child as he sets the glass on the chestnut colored nightstand. He crawls slowly onto the queen size bed next to Spencer. The bright lights of the New York City skyline glowing from the window of their hotel room. He settles against his boyfriend as Spencer circles his arms around him, pulling him close- for comfort or so that Ryan won’t go back to listen at the wall again, he isn’t exactly sure. Ryan huffs a sigh and Spencer laughs brushing the hair out of Ryan’s face.
“When they are ready, they will talk. Until then, stay the hell out of it.” He warns.
“I know. I just want to hear what they are saying.” Ryan whines obnoxiously.
Spencer looks him dead in the eyes, “What goes on between Brendon and Jon in their relationship, is none of our business unless they come to us first, got it?”
Ryan pouts, sticking his lip out like the child he is and Spencer laughs, “Sorry, Ry.”
They fall asleep sometime after midnight and around 3 am Spencer is awoken by a knock on the door of their hotel room. He creeps out of bed as stealthily as he can, trying not wanting to wake up Ryan and peeks through the peep hole-It’s hotel security. Spencer’s heart begins to race as he quietly slides the brass chain from the lock channel, opening the door a few inches.
“Can I- can I help you, Sir?” Spencer asks timidly.
“Are you Spencer Smith?” The older gentleman asks.
“Yes, sir. Is there a problem?”
“You might say that.” He motions with his thumb to his left, pointing down the long, teal carpeted corridor. As Spencer opens the door a little wider to peer around the door jamb and into the hallway, he sees an obviously drunken and disheveled Brendon stumbling towards him. His hair is sticking up every which way and he seems to only be wearing mismatched socks on his feet. He looks like a hot mess and Spencer can smell the stale stench of alcohol the closer Brendon gets to him.
“I found him walking around outside without shoes on; took me 5 minutes to get him to tell me his name. Fortunately, one of the girls at the front desk knew who he was and asked me to contact you. He is very lucky he wasn’t arrested for public intoxication.”
Spencer cards his hands through his unwashed hair, half wanting to laugh and half wanting to yell at Brendon for causing a scene at 3am in New york City. Spencer guesses this man has seen worse behavior from guests in the past; and in terms of rockstars, Brendon is pretty harmless.
“I appreciate you finding me and making sure he got back to someone safely. I can assure you he won’t bother anyone the rest of our stay, Sir.” Spencer promises.
The man looks at him with sympathetic eyes, “We’ve all been there, kid. Just keep him out of trouble. You have a good night, Mr. Smith.” He says with a wave as he saunters back down the hallway to the bank of silver elevators.
“Come on B, let’s get you back to your room, okay?” Spencer says, reaching out to grab Brendon’s arm to steady him. Brendon stares at him for a second, big brown eyes that are usually filled with sparkles and laughter, now dark and melancholy. He shakes his head slowly and Spencer’s heart sinks in his chest as he pulls Brendon to him for a hug instead.
“B, it’s going to be ok, alright? Whatever it is, it will all work out.” He tells him, as he smooths his hand over Brendon’s back encouragingly. Brendon doesn’t say anything, just pulls Spencer in a little tighter; Brendon is definitely sobbing now. Spencer tries to hold back his own emotions- he can’t stand seeing anyone cry, for any reason.
“Bren, do you want to stay with us tonight?” Spencer whispers in the quiet of the hotel hallway. Brendon nods against his shoulder and Spencer turns them around to open the door. Ryan is somehow still asleep, snoring softly under the cotton duvet of the queen size bed. Spencer thinks to himself that is probably for the best; the less questions that Brendon has to answer right now, the better. He ushers Brendon into the room, closing the door quietly. Brendon shuffles almost lifelessly to the small couch in the corner of the room as Spencer finds an extra blanket to cover him with.
Brendon crumples his frame onto the couch and all Spencer can think is that Brendon is going to be so sore when he eventually wakes up. Spencer lays the blanket over him, “B, try to sleep, okay? We’ll get this all figured out in the morning, alright?”
Brendon doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes and turns over to face the back of the couch. Spencer takes a deep breath and makes his way back to the bed he and Ryan are sharing. He just covers himself when he phone buzzes on the side table. Spencer reaches over, fumbling to grab the phone before it wakes either of them. He stares at the screen; it’s Jon.
“Please tell me you know where B is?????” The text reads.
He sighs. “I’ve got him. Security brought him back smelling like a liquor store. Wanna talk about it?” Spencer Texts back.
“Thank fuck! Just keep him safe, please?” Jon writes back. Spencer can almost hear him sigh a breath of relief through the plaster walls. Spencer rolls his eyes and replies “k”, sets his phone down, tucks himself into bed. He may be able to get a few hours of sleep before he has to deal with whatever mess these two got themselves into.
