Jon actually sounded genuinely worried and Spencer reluctantly peeled open bleary eyes and forced himself to lift his head from where he’d let it fall against the open pages of his analytical chemistry textbook (Spencer hated that textbook; his professor had promised them all earnestly at the start of the semester that it was the sure-fire guarantee key to making sure they passed the course but all it had actually done so far was convince Spencer of just how much he still didn’t know). “Hey,” he said tiredly, “I thought you were working tonight?”
“I was,” Jon agreed and he stepped across the room in two easy strides before crouching down at the side of Spencer’s chair, reaching out to brush Spencer’s hair from his eyes, “It’s late, Spence, have you been sitting at this desk since I left?”
Spencer blinked. It couldn’t be all that late; he’d only closed his eyes for half a minute…He glanced over at the alarm clock still perched precariously on the side of the desk from where he’d slammed it down that morning and then he glanced again. Then he properly looked, his eyes widened and he stared. “Oh, shit,” he said, with just a hint of panic colouring the words, “I fell asleep.”
Jon nodded. “I figured you were tired this morning.” He hadn’t pulled his hand away from Spencer’s face and, as his thumb traced lightly across Spencer’s cheekbone, Spencer could feel that inevitable flush rising in his cheeks. It was entirely unfair that Jon could make him blush without even trying when Spencer wasn’t even sure what they were. More than just roommates, he thought (he was resolutely ignoring the sing-song boyfriends humming at the back of his mind that sounded irritatingly like Brendon), but he hadn’t been able to categorise what they’d done properly in his head yet and it made his brain ache if he tried to think about it for too long.
Not that any of that was Spencer’s priority right now.
Spencer shook his head, dislodging Jon’s fingers, and reached out for his notes, while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his free hand. He knew Jon wasn’t getting it but then Jon was a photography major; as far as Spencer could work out, Jon didn’t even have any finals this semester. Honestly, he’d have been surprised if Jon did get it. “I fell asleep, Jon, and now I’m going to fail An-Chem.”
“No, you’re not,” Jon said reasonably, “You’ve put more work into this course than everybody else combined and you’re more than smart enough to ace the class. You’ll be fine.”
Spencer snorted, “Are you kidding me? I don’t know the formulas, I can’t wrap my head around the methods and I’m not clear on the compounds. Remind me again how that turns into fine?” He flicked quickly through the sheets of paper in his hand before tossing them aside with an irritable click of his tongue. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way but can you just, I don’t know, go somewhere else for the rest of the night?”
Jon paused for a long moment, long enough that Spencer was sure he was going to refuse, before he pushed himself back to his feet with a sigh, “Pulling an all-nighter isn’t going to help, Spence; you just need a break,” he said disapprovingly. “Have you even eaten anything today?”
Spencer shook his head distractedly, “No, but I’ll grab something in a second,” he said, “The exam’s tomorrow so I just need to find these lecture notes and-”
His voice cut out as Jon’s fingers tangled into his hair and pulled sharply, tipping Spencer’s head back until his t-shirt dug into his neck, leaving his breath trapped in his throat. Jon smiled down at him; just a little dangerous and just a little predatory and Spencer felt his pulse jump a little erratically as it picked up speed.
“Oh,” he breathed out on a strained exhale. He’d seen that smile before and, whatever else might be going on between them, he hadn’t thought they were going to do that again. They hadn’t talked about it and he hadn’t thought about it. Well, no, that was a bald-faced lie. He hadn’t hoped for it anyway.
He hadn’t dared.
“You need a break,” Jon murmured, his eyes locked with Spencer’s and Spencer’s fingers curled involuntarily into the edge of the table, his papers forgotten as the wood bit into the soft skin of his palms. He could barely take a full breath with his head held tight as it was and he struggled to swallow against a suddenly dry throat. “Leave the books and come eat with me.”
“I-” Spencer started and Jon’s fingers tightened in his hair, his fingernails scratching against Spencer’s scalp and making his breath hitch.
“Now, Spencer,” Jon said, and there was just enough of a bite running through the words to make them not a request. Not even close.
Spencer swallowed again and watched as Jon tracked the movement in his throat and…and…yeah, fuck it. The test was important, Spencer knew it was, and he was probably going to be beating himself up over this at least until his results came through but it just paled in comparison to how Jon was looking at him right now. “Okay,” he rasped, fighting the word out past the pressure in his throat, “Yeah.”
Jon’s eyes darkened and his smile widened. “That’s my boy,” he said approvingly and the only thing Spencer could think was yeah.