Freddie was the happiest he had been in years. Everything finally seemed like it was going to be ok.

He ate the pasta his mother had made for their meet the parent dinner slowly. Mrs. Benson was politely and calmly asking Jack questions about himself. She hadn't been so cordial to any of the two girls he'd ever brought home to meet her.

And when they started going back to school shopping at the beginning of August, he realized the guys were totally right as he came out of the dressing room in a new pair of jeans, critically examining his ass in the mirror, his mother suggesting he should probably get the next size down.

A gay boy's mom was definitely his best friend.

For once he felt completely accepted for who he was. He couldn't ask for more. He hadn't thought about Spencer in over a month, and he knew everything would be fine. B

Spencer thought he was getting over Freddie. He really did. Until Sam's nineteenth birthday party.

There was enough alcohol to drown a small army. By ten o'clock he could hardly walk straight.

And with no Socko around to play his mommy, Spencer would later realize, he was completely out of control.

He pulled the adorable man into the bathroom, kissing up his tanned neck. Freddie's breath reeked of alcohol. He could've exploded a breathalyzer. But that might've been his own. Spencer could hardly tell.

"Not here," the younger man pleaded, tugging on Spencer's hair. "Your place."

Spencer would've killed someone if Freddie had asked him to, and he grabbed him by the front of his pants, dragging him to the door.

If he was sober, he might've felt bad for the cab driver, who had to listen to him slurping away at Freddie's neck the entire ride home. But then again, he probably wouldn't've been trying to eat Freddie if he was sober.

His key fumbled in the lock. Freddie took it from him, and easily opened the door.

Spencer shut the door behind him and pinned him up against it. Freddie pulled his shirt off, dropping it to the floor.

"I missed you," Spencer slurred. "I'm so sorry Freddie, I shouldn't have..."

But Freddie just covered his mouth with his soft hand and Spencer melted.

He knew they shouldn't be doing this here, against the doorway, but Freddie was pushing his shirt up and his hands were all over his chest, and god knows he would regret this in the morning but it was so worth it right now, especially when Freddie lowered himself to his knees and began unbutton his jeans and godjesuschristmotherfucker.

He was led by a firm hand on his most sensitive part to his bedroom, where Freddie shut and locked the door and pushed him roughly onto the bed.

The rest was a blur.

When Spencer dragged him into the bathroom at Sam's party, Freddie's mind was whirring. He knew he shouldn't do this, he wondered what Jack would think, he worried why he even wanted to do this. But Spencer was kissing him sloppily like a drunk sorority girl and it was almost like everything he'd thought about while screwing one of the many sorority bimbos he wasted his time on had come true and oh. Oh. Things sort of clicked into place in his brain and he just had to do this. He had to get it out of his system or something.

So he let himself be dragged back to the Shay apartment.

He let Spencer pin him to the door and he let himself drop to his knees and then drag the older man into the bedroom.

It was raw and ugly and horrible. Just like with the girls. Sweat poured off him as he bit Spencer's shoulder, hard, and Spencer just groaned and god it was so ugly.

Freddie felt like an animal as Spencer arched his back against his chest, and he just moaned in response. The hand not holding him up roamed over Spencer's chest and he was whimpering, begging, "Please Freddie, please please please."

And so he obliged, and then Spencer was grunting and panting harder, if that was possible, making his fingers sticky and gross and god now he was too and Jesusjesusjesus.

He was so sweaty and greasy and gross, and all he could think about was showering with Jack as he pulled himself off Spencer, flopping on his back on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes so he didn't have to see.

Sleep overcame him quickly, thank god, and he dreamt of kissing Jack in the stairwell, hands roaming freely over his toned body.

Spencer fell asleep, spent and drunk and sweaty, watching Freddie smile in his dreams.

When he awoke, Freddie was already pulling his clothes on. Spencer sat up quickly.

Fuck fuck fuck bad idea. Someone was hammering on his skull from the inside. His eyes covered by an arm, he asked, "Where are you going? Come back to bed."

Freddie just shook his head. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'm sorry for leading you on. I can't."

Spencer was so confused by the headache that Freddie's words took him a while to digest. Kind of like eating a huge plate of pasta and realizing ten minutes later that his stomach was clearly not equipped to digest the lump of chewed noodles, and suddenly feeling like he had farfalle backed up through his upper gi tract, sticking along his esophagus. Spencer would later marvel that he was able to come up with that correlation in such conditions.

"What?" he finally choked through the chewed up bowties.

"I... You were right. We can't be together, Spencer." Freddie was tying his shoes. "I'm sorry."

Spencer watched in horror as Freddie unlocked the door, and then left, shutting it behind him with a thump of finality that made his ears ring. His eyes were already tearing up as he heard Freddie leaving through the front door.

Freddie returned to school. Jack spent the night with him at least once a week (silly boy either had eight am classes or his morning workouts, and Freddie wasn't going to start complaining). They spent their weekends at the club or with the guys. His mom graciously invited him for Christmas Eve dinner.

He told Jack about that horrible August night.

"You poor thing," was the first thing Jack said.

"You're not mad?" Freddie could've sobbed with relief.

"I've slept with other guys too once or twice. Besides, it hardly sounds like you enjoyed it. How can I get mad at you for having horrible sex?" Jack reasoned.

Freddie just smiled, kissing his boyfriend's neck fondly. "Does this mean I'm allowed to screw girls?"

Jack snorted, ruffling his hair. "If you really want to..." Freddie laughed, gently punching his shoulder. Jack climbed on top of him, holding his wrists together in one strong hand, and digging the fingers of his free hand into Freddie's side.

Freddie laughed harder, writhing underneath Jack, trying to pull his hands free. "No! Jack! Please!"

Jack just tickled him more.

Freddie was happy that he did what he did. Every doubt he might've had was gone. He never wondered in a drug induced haze whether he should have pursed Spencer anymore. He never drunk dialed him. And he never hoped he'd see him, find himself blowing him, as he wandered through the baths.

Everything was right again, and he really couldn't ask for more.

Spencer got over it eventually.

He only cried once at least, he later reassured himself.

Socko tried to cheer him up, but there was only so much a friend could do.

After a few months, he showed up at that hole in the wall of a bar to find his best friend nursing a beer, feet tucked comfortably under the grimy barstool.

"Hey man," Socko shouted, throwing an arm around him and hugging him. "You're alive."

"Barely," Spencer yelled as the bartender handed him a beer at Socko's beckoning.

"You'll get better, man. It just takes time."

Spencer just shrugged, watching as two blondes entered, their heels clicking unnaturally on the grody floor.

"Come on. Let's go talk to them." Socko was looking at the same girls. Spencer shrugged again.

"I don't know," he mumbled, sipping from the greasy glass. Socko seemed saddened when Spencer looked back up at him. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok, man," Socko assured him, grinning as he usually did, "I understand."

Spencer smiled back, feeling a renewed sense of hope, "I have dibs on the tall one."


A/N - Thanks so much to everyone who followed this from the beginning, to all my reviewers, and all my readers.

A sequel (because we all know Spencer/Freddie is the otp, right? And I just can't leave it like this...) is still in the works. It may be a while before we see the first chapter of that, but I promise I'll try and post something within a month. If not, send out a search party, because I'll probably be lost in my new college freedom. :D

I'm almost sad to be ending this because it's been really fun, especially hearing from my readers. Thanks again guys!