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Spencer has been at this party for half an hour. It’s not like he’s not having a good time – because he is – but it’s also not like the friend who’d promised to come keep him company had arrived. Which he hadn’t.
The guy playing bartender at the moment is really nice – probably flirting, considering that he’s made Spencer two drinks unprompted, but Spencer hasn’t decided if he’s into it or not yet.
I’ll be a little late; I’m picking up a new friend. He hasn’t gone to many parties or anything, so I said I’d bring him along. You’ll probably like him, or something. Jon vouches for him, so he can’t be that bad.
A “little” late, he thinks grumpily to himself. Ryan is really late. Ryan is so late Spencer is going to leave if he’s not there in another twenty minutes.
“Hi,” an unfamiliar girl says to him, coming up to hang on his shoulder. She’s already pretty trashed but not overly flirtatious nor unfriendly. She’s holding one lavender sneaker in her hand, and a quick look down confirms that she’s wearing the other one. Spencer smiles at her for the sake of amicability.
“Hi, there. You look like you could use some help with that,” he humors her, and she nods enthusiastically, tumbling into a chair and holding out her sneaker with the biggest hazel eyes he’s ever seen.
“Thanks,” she says, almost gushingly, as he kneels down to get her shoe on. “You’ve got such pretty hair. You’re so nice. Thanks, man.”
“You’re welcome,” he tells her solemnly. “Always here to perform shoe-duties for lovely ladies.” She giggles, and he grins at her charmingly.
“You’re a sweetie,” she tells him happily. “I’m gonna go dance. Have fun, pretty hair!”
“Have fun, shoe girl!” he replies, and she stumbles away, still cheerful. He feels like he’s done a good deed, and the guy mixing drinks throws a smile his way. Spencer can feel the come on heading his way the second the guy opens his mouth, but luckily, he’s saved from having to actually make a decision on whether he wants to pull tonight.
“Dibs!” It’s said loud enough that the entire room – while not full to bursting still fairly packed – goes quiet for a second, before the chatter resumes amidst giggles.
Spencer’s automatically turned toward the speaker, curious as to who or what he was calling dibs on, only to be confronted with an unfairly pretty man draped across his very amused missing best friend… with his arm flung out, pointing directly at Spencer.
Ryan tugs the guy closer to Spencer and says with the kind of stoic delight only Ryan could manage, “He started the party before I got to him. But I think seeing that just made dealing with his drunk ass worth it.” He’s not even smiling, really, but Spencer still knows that he’s going to hear about this for ages.
The minute he’s in range, the guy flings himself at Spencer, who only just stops him from tumbling over. The guy mixing drinks gives the man Ryan brought with him a dirty look, and then pulls away, clearly done trying to ask Spencer out. He’s not half as bothered as he thinks he probably should be.
For one thing, the man Ryan brought is unfairly pretty. He’s got massive brown eyes and soft looking dark hair. His legs are long, encased in skin tight faux-leather leggings, and… good lord, he’s wearing violet velvet pumps. They make his legs go on for ages and also explain why he’d had a hard time walking the minute he’d let go of Ryan, drunkenness notwithstanding.
“Nice heels,” he says a little absently, distracted by said shoes, and the guy wraps his arms around Spencer’s neck, humming into his shoulder.
“Thanks,” he says, hiccupping on the last half. “Ryan said you’re a good dude, but I think you’re like, really hot. Super hot. Hot enough that you and me are definitely going to happen. I called dibs, so it’s like. Valid.”
“He did call dibs,” Ryan agrees with a straight face. Spencer kind of hates him, except that he’s got this new guy in his arms because of Ryan, a new guy who is gorgeous and clearly into boys. Spencer can work with this. “That means you’re practically his now.”
The guy pulls back to look him square in the eye. He looks a little unfocused, but he manages to at least keep his eyes on Spencer’s face, even if they keep dropping down to his mouth. “Yeah, you’re mine now. Because I called dibs.”
Spencer isn’t going to be the one to argue with him. “Sure,” he says agreeably. “We can work that out when you’re sober, but sure, let’s go with that for now.” He pauses. “What’s your name, man? Ryan is pretty shitty at introductions, I guess.”
“Oh man,” he says, sounding pretty happy about the whole thing. “I’m Brendon. My last name doesn’t matter because I’m definitely going to marry you. What’s your last name? That’s mine, too, now.” He pauses. “I’m totally not drunk enough that I don’t realize I’m being an annoying jackass, but I still want to know your name. So you should give it to me. For legal purposes.” He gives Spencer a winning smile.
“I’m Spencer. Uh, Smith,” he adds when Ryan makes a gesture behind Brendon’s back.
“I’m Brendon Smith, then” Brendon says decisively, and then grins in triumph when Spencer laughs. Not totally crazy, apparently – just a flirty drunk. Spencer is ridiculously endeared, and commandeers a chair so Brendon can sit next to him and remain where he clearly prefers to be in Spencer’s personal space.
“This is beautiful,” Ryan tells him earnestly. There’s mocking in his eyes, but Spencer really doesn’t care. Ryan has done a good thing. The thing Ryan has done, bringing Brendon along, is the Best Thing Ryan Has Ever Done. “Am I invited to the wedding?”
“Yeah,” Spencer says before Brendon can agree, who is already nodding into Spencer’s shoulder. “You can be Brendon’s maid of honor.” He smiles smugly at Ryan’s eye roll, grinning more genuinely when Brendon makes another happy sound.
“You’d be so pretty in a dress, Ryan Ross,” Brendon sighs, like he’s not the one in heels. “I mean, you’ve got frankly terrifyingly long limbs, but we could probably make it work.”
“Brendon!” It’s the girl with the lavender sneakers from earlier. “I didn’t know you were coming! And you met the man with pretty hair. He tied my shoe.” She’s beaming at the two of them, and Brendon props himself up enough to smile right back.
“This is Spencer,” he announces with those bright eyes that Spencer’s honestly really into. “I’m gonna like, marry him. Because I called dibs.” He grins wolfishly and waggles his eyebrows, making Sarah giggle.
“He tied my shoe,” the girl says again, totally unperturbed by Spencer’s apparent engagement. “I love your shoes and your Spencer, Brendon! I’m gonna go do something, m’kay?” She starts to leave again before Spencer can formulate a response, but Brendon responds promptly.
“Bye, Sarah!” he calls cheerfully, and she replies something that vaguely sounds like a farewell before disappearing amongst people. “She’s my best friend. If Ryan’s my maid of honor, Sarah should be your best man.”
“Good idea,” Ryan says a little grumpily – he probably had not intended on the maid of honor joke sticking. But that was fine, because he was not Spencer’s concern.
“I’ll be right back,” Brendon says out of nowhere, probably the tail end of an internal thought that never made it past his lips. He gets up and staggers off in his heels toward wherever Sarah disappeared to. The longer he walks the steadier on his feet he gets, like he’s finally gotten the hang of walking, and Spencer can’t help but watch his ass and legs as he saunters away, albeit clumsily.
“Thanks, Ryan,” he says after a long moment, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he says it. “I forgive you for being late because you were definitely right about me liking him. He can stay.”
Ryan tries to continue being grumpy, but he starts to grin a little, too. “I might have had ulterior motives for bringing him. I didn’t even talk you up or anything on the way here, but I definitely knew he was your type.”
Spencer laughs. “Did you even really meet him through Jon or did you just see him on the street and decide to play matchmaker?”
“He’s really a friend of Jon’s,” Ryan confirms, nodding lightly at Brendon. “They’re both taking the same composition class, and Jon brought him to hang out one time.” Spencer decides to believe him, and then Brendon wanders back, looking a little less ridiculous and a little more stable on his heels.
He collapses onto the chair next to Spencer and leans into Spencer’s side. “I might have gotten carried away in the moment of meeting a really gorgeous guy,” he starts with, eyes closed. “But I totally do not take back the dibs or the marriage proposal.”
“That’s alright,” Spencer chuckles. They can talk about it when Brendon’s sober, but for now he gets comfortable under Brendon’s dead weight and chats with Ryan, ignoring the world around them.