"So, like, um. You didn't call," Spencer says, staring down into his cup hoping to god he doesn't sound too much like a girl.
He can feel Pete staring at him across the table, watching him, and it's. This is stupid, Pete's still Pete, he hasn't stopped being the idiotic, loudmouth that signed them - even back then, he never really intimidated Spencer - nothing should've changed just because of one stupid night. But.
"No I did not," Pete finally says.
"No you did not," Spencer says quietly as he sips from his cup.
"Hey," Pete says and Spencer looks up, "I meant to. Call, I mean."
Spencer vaguely notes his heart beginning to thud hard in his chest. But only vaguely. He does not want to actually be a girl, no. "So, why didn't you?"
The corner of Pete's mouth quirks up, and Spencer's brain goes on a tangent about his lips, what it was like to touch them, kiss them, what his mouth tasted like...
Pete grins widely at him and for a second Spencer seriously gets scared that the dude is psychic.
"I didn't call," Pete says, still grinning, "because I wasn't sure how you felt about it, I mean. With the way things ended that night."
"You didn't say anything," Spencer says, recalling the weird vibe after... after.
Pete's eyebrows raise playfully, "Neither did you," his gaze narrows, "well, I mean, like after. During you were actually pretty--"
"Do not," Spencer says warningly, the corners of his lips twitching up. "Shut up, Pete."
Pete raises his hands. "Whatever you say, baby."
Spencer does not blush. Seriously, Pete.
"Shut up," he says again, quietly, just 'cause.
Pete reaches over the table like he's going to grab Spencer's hand but falters, just nudges his knuckles against Spencer's fingers instead. "So are we- we're good, right?" His grin falls a little, uncertain.
And Spencer is not used to seeing Pete look that way, "uncertain". It's weird. So he leans forward and clasps Pete's hand.
It takes a moment, but then he takes a breath and manages to ask, "Your place or mine?" It's cheesy, he knows it's cheesy, and maybe Spencer's voice shakes a little, but. He doesn't really care.
Pete smiles, a genuinely happy smile, if a little devious. He leans over the table - which, actually is a pretty noticeable move, other people start to watch - and he moves in close, lips pressed against the shell of Spencer's ear as he answers, "My place this time, since I'm pretty sure we broke your bed."
Baby you may turn the corner yet PG
He can feel Pete staring at him across the table, watching him, and it's. This is stupid, Pete's still Pete, he hasn't stopped being the idiotic, loudmouth that signed them - even back then, he never really intimidated Spencer - nothing should've changed just because of one stupid night. But.
"No I did not," Pete finally says.
"No you did not," Spencer says quietly as he sips from his cup.
"Hey," Pete says and Spencer looks up, "I meant to. Call, I mean."
Spencer vaguely notes his heart beginning to thud hard in his chest. But only vaguely. He does not want to actually be a girl, no. "So, why didn't you?"
The corner of Pete's mouth quirks up, and Spencer's brain goes on a tangent about his lips, what it was like to touch them, kiss them, what his mouth tasted like...
Pete grins widely at him and for a second Spencer seriously gets scared that the dude is psychic.
"I didn't call," Pete says, still grinning, "because I wasn't sure how you felt about it, I mean. With the way things ended that night."
"You didn't say anything," Spencer says, recalling the weird vibe after... after.
Pete's eyebrows raise playfully, "Neither did you," his gaze narrows, "well, I mean, like after. During you were actually pretty--"
"Do not," Spencer says warningly, the corners of his lips twitching up. "Shut up, Pete."
Pete raises his hands. "Whatever you say, baby."
Spencer does not blush. Seriously, Pete.
"Shut up," he says again, quietly, just 'cause.
Pete reaches over the table like he's going to grab Spencer's hand but falters, just nudges his knuckles against Spencer's fingers instead. "So are we- we're good, right?" His grin falls a little, uncertain.
And Spencer is not used to seeing Pete look that way, "uncertain". It's weird. So he leans forward and clasps Pete's hand.
It takes a moment, but then he takes a breath and manages to ask, "Your place or mine?" It's cheesy, he knows it's cheesy, and maybe Spencer's voice shakes a little, but. He doesn't really care.
Pete smiles, a genuinely happy smile, if a little devious. He leans over the table - which, actually is a pretty noticeable move, other people start to watch - and he moves in close, lips pressed against the shell of Spencer's ear as he answers, "My place this time, since I'm pretty sure we broke your bed."