Ryden Smut

The Perfect Gift (Joncer)

Sequal to Pool Party and The Basement, Perfect Gift by @ silver_etoile on LiveJournal
Part 3/3
http://silver-etoile.livejournal.com/101037.html#cutid1

(JONCER)

Spencer slammed the front door to his house as he entered, a disgusted look on his face as he caught sight of the closet under the stairs just off the entry-way. Shuddering, he kicked off his shoes as a voice floated in from the kitchen.

“Spencer, is that you?”

“Yeah, mom,” Spencer called back, sighing as he frowned at the closet. He couldn’t believe what Ryan,his best friend, had done—defiled—to his closet. It was disgusting and he didn’t want to think about it. Except that images of Ryan, naked and sweaty, writhing on Brendon’s lap kept returning to his mind the longer he stood there.

“You have a visitor,” his mom called. “In the living room. I’m going to the store. I’ll be back in a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” Spencer replied, sighing again and shuddering as he passed the closet to the living room.

“Hey.” A voice greeted Spencer as he entered the living room and he nearly tripped over the coffee table. As it was, he merely stumbled, running into the leg with his shins.

His eyes widened as he stared at the boy sitting casually on the out-dated couch, his toes sinking deep into the shag carpeting.

“J-Jon,” Spencer stuttered.

Jon smiled and looked at him, his smile slowly fading as he caught sight of Spencer’s pale features.

“Are you okay?”

Spencer made a face again as he recalled what he’d been thinking of before Jon had intruded—wiped out—his thoughts. Sitting down on the arm chair, Spencer shuddered.

“I think I’ve been scarred for life.”

Jon’s eyebrow went up and the smile returned at the corner of his mouth. “Really?”

Spencer nodded seriously. “I really don’t want to talk about it. The image is enough.”

Jon laughed but stopped at the look on Spencer’s face. He looked like he might be sick. Clearing his throat, Jon stretched out on the couch.

Spencer tried hard not to stare as Jon’s shirt rode up, revealing his tanned skin and muscles. He chose, instead, to carefully trace all the lines in the chair’s fabric.

There was silence for a moment as Spencer awkwardly avoided Jon’s eyes. He glanced around the room, instead.

The living room looked like a Brady Bunch cut-out with wood paneling and orange shag carpet. The couch and chair were both upholstered in gold, scratchy fabric that rubbed against Spencer’s bare arms. Sometimes Spencer wished his parents would update and at least change the carpet.

Finally, Spencer glanced up at Jon, who was watching him intently, silently. Clearing his throat, Spencer shifted nervously on the chair.

“So why are you here?”

Jon looked at him for another moment, his expression betraying nothing, until his mouth curved into a smile and his eyes lit up. Spencer felt his stomach flip-flopping at the sight.

“Okay,” Jon started, sitting forward on the couch and looking at Spencer intently. “So I know last week was your birthday, and I already got you a present.”