Chapter Text
“Hey,” Spencer greets cautiously as soon as he enters their hotel room, allowing the door to shut softly behind him. He kind of feels self-conscious about the whole flowers thing now that he’s actually doing it, but whatever. Too late now.
He doesn’t even see Ryan, though, and he looks around, confused, before he hears him say “Hey” back from inside the open bathroom.
Spencer just walks in holding the flowers, and Ryan blinks at him, his face (forcefully, Spencer can tell,) blank.
“You got me flowers,” he states flatly.
“Sorry for being an ass at dinner,” Spencer says simply, handing him the flowers.
“You weren’t being an ass, I’m just-” He takes the flowers with one hand, waves his other one in the air, and, with a resigned sigh, says “-Hormonal.”
“Maybe,” Spencer concedes. “But I was also being annoying.”
“You were.”
“And I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven,” Ryan tells him with a tiny smirk, looking at the flowers again.
“You like the flowers?” Spencer asks, hopeful, as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Ryan smiles fondly, nods, and says “It’s a little over the top.” He rubs one of the petals between his thumb and pointer finger. “But I love yellow roses.” He finally sees the card then, and laughs out loud. “‘Je suis désolé pour la grippe, mais merci pour le chat. Il j'adore.’?” he asks with one eyebrow raised.
“The lady at the flower stall gave me a really weird look for asking her to translate that,” Spencer replies, willing himself not to blush. (He can feel his face heating up.)
“Yeah, I bet,” Ryan chuckles.
“Not as weird as Jon,” he adds. Ryan laughs out loud, throwing his head back fully, and that’s worth the embarrassment.
“You are such a freak,” he says, tossing an arm over Spencer’s shoulder to kiss his cheek. “But thank you, you’re sweet.”
“It was mostly Jon’s idea,” Spencer admits. Ryan only smiles wider.
“I know,” he says. “Thank him for me too.”
Spencer winds his arms around Ryan’s waist, pushing his face into his neck, and he really wants to fucking touch-
“Are you sure this is fine?” he asks as he moves a hand from Ryan’s back to his hip, with intent.
“As long as we’re alone, absolutely,” Ryan assures him, a little softer, as he sets the flowers down next to him.
Spencer moves a hand to his stomach. His skin is warm, and that kinda makes Spencer feel all stupid and fuzzy inside his chest, because their kid is all warm and safe in there. He bets it feels awesome, like a waterbed covered in heated blankets… in the winter. Or a hot tub in the snow, like that one time when they were in Sweden-
Holy fuck, he’ll get to show them snow, and sunshine and flowers and little puppies.
Jesus christ, how did getting Ryan pregnant turn him into a girl?
“Why are you smiling so hard?” Ryan asks skeptically.
“Can we get them a pony?” Spencer asks, feeling like Brendon. Ryan laughs aloud again.
“Well, actually? Maybe,” he laughs. “I guess if they want one.”
Spencer pulls back, still grinning, and Ryan only looks vaguely annoyed by his enthusiasm as he leans forward to kiss him a couple times.
“Why are you hanging out in the bathroom, by the way?” Spencer asks, suddenly realizing that that’s weird. Ryan just pulls back, gesturing to the counter next to them.
A couple inches from the roses, there’s two more pregnancy tests, one that says ‘enceinte’ and one with two dark pink lines on it. Ryan hops up on the counter, kicking his feet in front of him and lacing his fingers together in his lap. His shoulders are hunched, self-conscious, so Spencer doesn’t ask out loud, just raises his eyebrows, like an open question.
“I thought it might make it feel a little more real,” Ryan explains softly. “Reading the test in a language I understand.”
“Did it?” Spencer asks, leaning his hip against the counter.
Ryan shrugs, says “Un peu,” and holds his fingers up about an inch apart, as if he’s measuring something. Spencer can get that one from context clues. “I just can’t believe I’m having a kid,” he continues. “Like, I know I am, and I’m doing things for them, and I-” He stares at the wall in front of him. “I know I don’t know them, and I can hardly wrap my head around them existing, but I love them. I think I’m supposed to, but I still didn’t know I would.”
“Me too,” Spencer says, finally getting Ryan to look at him. “To all of that.”
Ryan smiles at him a little, grabbing him so he can pull him close enough to rest his forehead on his shoulder. He sighs, content, and then yawns.
“Sleep?” Spencer asks, rubbing his knee. Ryan nods into his shoulder.
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The bus is moving at a decent clip down some European highway, and Spencer, as per usual, is the first one awake. Surprisingly, though, Ryan actually wakes up next. He shuffles into the kitchen first, grabs himself a Capri Sun, and drops himself down next to Spencer, draping himself over him. Spencer puts his arm around him as he fusses with the straw.
Ryan takes a long drink, and then asks “How old do they have to be before they’re allowed to watch Family Guy?”
Spencer says “Um,” and he kind of expects that Ryan will elaborate on that, but he doesn’t. “Maybe middle school?” he suggests. “I mean, by then everyone else will be watching stuff like that, and I think any kid of ours is going to be mature enough by then to not parrot stupid shit at school. Well, any more than they would if they didn’t watch Family Guy.”
Ryan nods like he’s satisfied, and shuffles closer.
“They’re gonna watch PBS Kids until they’re, like, eight,” he says.
“Okay, yeah. Agreed.”
“And not too much TV in general, they need to play outside. That’s important for kids.”
“You keep saying they,” Spencer points out. “Is that ‘they’ singular, or are we talking multiple kids?”
Ryan takes another long drink, then hums, and says “I think I mean ‘they’ singular, but I want two. They’re like cats, they need to entertain each other.” He takes another drink. “I could be persuaded into three.”
“Two point five kids, one dog, one cat, and a white picket fence?” Spencer asks, half teasing. “Ryan Ross, I didn’t think you were the type.”
Ryan sets his chin on Spencer’s shoulder to look at him, inches from his face, and says, dead serious, “Only for you.” Then, after another few seconds, he adds “They have to watch their first horror movie with us.”
Spencer grins. “Okay.”
“Because watching them too young is, like, traumatic, especially when you don’t know what’s going on, and I want to be able to let them hide under the blanket with us if they’re scared so they don’t get traumatized.”
“No, yeah. Makes sense,” Spencer agrees, and then something kind of shifts, because he can see that, and he laughs in a little bit of disbelief.
“What?”
“It feels real,” Spencer half-whispers.
“Like, just now?” Ryan asks as he pulls back, his eyes wide.
“Yeah, just now,” he laughs. “I can just- I can see it, you know? You with a little kid that looks like us, rushing to turn the channel to Nickelodeon from robot chicken when Adult Swim comes on.”
“Oh,” Ryan says, blinking. “Yeah, fuck. Me too.” His eyes stay wide, and he stares forward, like he’s searching for the words, but then just closes his mouth. He shoves himself forward, then his knees bracketing Spencer’s thighs, and he puts his face in his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his neck. He squeezes him, fucking hard, and says “You’ll be a really good dad.”
Spencer brings his hands up to wrap around Ryan’s back, brushing up and down his ribs, and says “You too. The best.”