Title: Find A Way

Chapter: What's the rush?

Pairing: Spencer/Freddie pre-SLASH

Synopsis: Freddie is turning 18 and Spencer has been counting down the days, trying to find a way to let his friend know his feelings.

What's the Rush?

Carly bounced her way down the stairs of the apartment she shared with her brother. The years have treated her well and she'd matured into a beautiful young woman. Hips swaying as she entered the living room, Carly tucked her long, brown hair behind her ears. "Hey, Spencer," she greeted her guardian with a smile.

Spencer looked up from the coffee table, his latest sculpture still a mound of paste and clay. "Heya, sis." Taking in the sight of her sequined dress and jean jacket, he regarded her with interest. "Where are you going?" His expression warned Carly of suspicion.

She chuckled, "It's the mixer tonight. Remember?" Shaking her head and smiling, Carly perched herself at the computer on the countertop. "Sam should be here any minute."

Spencer sat back into the couch, wiping gloppy ooze over the knees of his jeans. "What time will you be back?"

Carly craned her neck over her shoulder. "Dunno," she said, scrunching her nose.

Sighing, her older brother reminded her of her curfew.

"Oh, please," Carly sounded exasperated. "It's a school function; I'm not planning on staying to help clean up."

"Good. I expect you home by eleven." He smiled lovingly, but with authority.

The door to the hall opened in a flourish as Sam announced her presence with a sweeping gesture. "How do I look?" A cheesy grin spread across her round face.

Carly smiled, genuinely impressed, "Very nice." Sam had borrowed a silky top from Carly and paired it with dark jeans and heels. Carly grabbed her purse and leaned down to kiss Spencer's cheek. "See you."

Spencer accepted the gesture, but reminded, "Eleven."

Carly shrugged in silent agreement that she would stick to the curfew. "Where's Freddie?" She asked Sam as they stepped into the hallway.

Sam made a face, "He'll meet us there. His mom wanted to give him some kind of talk before the big dance."

Mrs. Benson's weirdness came as nothing new to the girls, so they left for the school without further thought.

Minutes after they'd left, Spencer heard impatient knocking. Looking from his gluey hands to the shiny doorknob, Spencer cried out, "It's open!"

"Hey, Spence." Freddie walked into the apartment dressed for the mixer. He shifted uncomfortably in a dark blue suit and shiny new shoes. A green tie hung loose on his shoulders.

"Wow." Spencer did a double-take to fully absorb the sight of his friend. "You know, the girls are just wearing stuff from Carly's closet. I didn't realize it was a suit and tie event."

Freddie sighed, "It's not. My mom picked this out."

"Oh," Spencer understood. He noticed Freddie's awkward movements. "Ants in your pants?"

With a small laugh Freddie adimitted, "Mom starched and ironed my boxers. Emphasis on the starch."

Spencer couldn't contain a smile. He had known Freddie and his mother for years, though the woman's routine was growing stranger each day. "Lemme help you with that tie." He beckoned his friend over and reached for the silky material hanging around Freddie's neck.

"Thanks, but…" Freddie held his hands in front of himself in a stop signal.

Quickly realizing his hands were covered in glue, Spencer blushed. "I'll be right back." After a rinse of his hands in hot, soapy water, Spencer was back.

He hesitated briefly before reaching out to Freddie again. Spencer's fingers moved delicately over Freddie's shoulders, gathering the tie in both hands. Standing this close to Freddie, Spencer could smell the gel in his friend's hair and the small splash of cologne on his skin. Spencer held his breath to keep his mouth from curling into a goofy smile. Focused on the knot developing under Freddie's chin, Spencer ignored the butterflies in his own stomach. "You know, there's a trick to getting starch out of underpants," he joked to break the uncomfortable silence.

Standing so close to Spencer had Freddie's heart racing, he choked out a response. "Oh? What's that?" Freddie stared at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that Spencer's voice, his touch, didn't turn him on. He told himself the smell of glue and aftershave was definitely not sexy. Spencer's fingers brushed the boy's neck and he shuddered. Avoiding Spencer's eyes, Freddie tried to take a step back.

But Spencer leaned closer, as if telling Freddie a secret, "Do your own laundry."

Freddie paid no attention to his friend's joke. His focus was firmly on the proximity of Spencer's lips and the weight of the artist's hands on his shoulders. "I'll do that," Freddie breathed. Recognizing Spencer had finished with the tie, Freddie glanced around the apartment. "Where are the girls?"

Spencer dropped his hands to his sides, his stomach twisted as he noticed Freddie had grown in to a handsome young man. "Left. Probably at the mixer already."

Freddie shook his head, not really surprised that Sam had convinced Carly to leave with out him. "Guess I should be going, then."

"Yup," Spencer nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. His eyes followed Freddie to the door. "Or, you could stay." The words barely left his lips before Spencer was hit with a wave of guilt and anxiety.

Freddie lingered by the door. Spencer had noticed his feelings were growing more serious toward Freddie in the past months, surely Freddie had noticed something different between their interactions. Spencer held on to a blind hope that Freddie would have similar feelings for him. And even then, Spencer reminded himself, Freddie looked up to him as a mentor and father figure. The young friend may feel used and betrayed if Spencer revealed his true intentions.

Freddie turned, "You want me to stay?"

Spencer gulped and dropped his eyes to the coffee table. His messy sculpture lacked ambition and inspiration. No harm in getting a little time away from work to spend with his muse. "We could do that thing we do sometimes…" Spencer suggested with anticipation.

A laugh rumbled up from Freddie's chest. Spencer couldn't take his eyes off the boy. "You mean, that time I spilled a smoothie on the iCarly server and we had no music for a month?"

"I mean, we can spend time together. Catch up. Man time!" Spencer pounded a fist against his chest to emphasize his masculinity.

"Man time, right. OK." Freddie looked at the sticky living room. He wanted to hang out, but Spencer's mess threatened to ruin the freshly pressed suit Freddie wore. "Can we man-it-up somewhere less artsy?"

"I got a better idea!" Spencer bounded toward his bedroom. Peeking his head out for a moment, he smiled, "It'll only take a minute. I have to find clean pants."

Spencer emerged from the bedroom wearing dress slacks, a jacket, and a stain-free t-shirt. He smelled of cologne and revealed freshly brushed teeth with his smile.

"Where are we going?" Freddie asked as his eyes drank in every curve of Spencer's body.

Spencer smiled at Freddie's interest, "There's a garden gallery showing this week." He moved closer to his friend, "It's supposed to be magnificent at night. Come on, we can walk there."

Freddie planned to spend about an hour with Spencer at the gardens before heading to the school dance. The only thing waiting for him at the dance was a lonely spot against the wall and spiked punch, so he wasn't really in a hurry.

Spencer kept close to Freddie as he led the boy down the few blocks to the city park. By the time they were in line for the gallery, Spencer had his hand resting on Freddie's back. The hand warmed Freddie's skin through his shirt and guided the boy around groups of friends and couples in love. Spencer paid for their tickets and brought Freddie through the maze of sculptures and paintings.

Freddie wasn't really interested in the art, but he couldn't ignore the romantic notes in the atmosphere. He found himself leaning into Spencer's touch and missing its warmth when Spencer moved away. He watched Spencer's face as the older man looked at the art around them.

"This is my favorite place," Spencer said quietly.

Freddie smiled and looked around. The sky shone with the twinkling of the stars, moonlight illuminated twisted metal and carved marble. The paintings seemed to glow with angelic qualities. The sight was peaceful, but there was no mistaking the quiet pulse of energy between people as they trailed through the pieces of art.

Spencer came up behind Freddie and resisted the urge to crush the boy into his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding him as close as possible. Freddie turned around to face his friend. "This is my favorite place," Spencer said again, not sure if Freddie heard him the first time. "And now, it's perfect.," Spencer's fingers grazed Freddie's ear as he admired the young man.

Realizing he may have gone too far, Spencer cleared his throat and stepped back.

But Freddie wasn't embarrassed; he wanted to acknowledge how Spencer felt about him, how he felt about his best friend's older brother. "Maybe the night makes everything more beautiful."

Spencer wanted to say, No. You make the night more beautiful. Instead, he shrugged and walked further into the maze of flowering plants and art. To his surprise, Freddie took his hand and laced the artist's delicate fingers in his own. Spencer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn't dare look down at their hands between them.

Freddie walked confidently through the maze with Spencer on his arm. Thoughts raced through Spencer's mind. He knew nothing could happen between them. Freddie wasn't yet eighteen and Spencer had practically raised him. There could be nothing romantic between the two. And yet, Spencer's heart ached with the fantasy of Freddie's lips pressed against his skin. He held the young man's hand tighter knowing this was as close to Freddie as he would get tonight.

After the gallery, Spencer walked Freddie to the school. Their hands separated as they emerged from the garden maze and continued onto the sidewalk. They stayed close, but shared few words. Spencer could feel the tension growing in the younger man. Freddie was young, impulsive, and highly driven by hormones. As much as Spencer wanted to act on those impulses, he would force them both to wait. Spencer could tell Freddie was banking on a good-night kiss, just a small one. But as the responsible adult, Spencer smiled into Freddie's puppy-dog eyes. He fixed Freddie's tie one last time and told his friend to have fun.

Freddie was biting his lip and fumbling for words. "Thanks for tonight," he mumbled.

Spencer placed a hand under Freddie's chin, forcing him to meet the older man's eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Freddie's eyes brightened up a bit and Spencer's young friend nodded. They parted without fanfare or excitement. Freddie arrived in the school gym in time to catch Carly in a lip-lock with her recent boy-of-the-week. He stared at the couple, longing to feel lips against his own, remembering the smell of aftershave and glue.

Sam came up behind him and slung a skinny arm over his shoulders. "She's outta your league, Freddie. When are you going to get that through your thick head?"

Sam expected a flustered retort from her love-sick friend, but Freddie was beaming. He grabbed Sam's face in his hands and placed an exaggerated kiss on her cheek.

The girl made a retching sound before punching Freddie in the arm. "What was that for, nut head?"

Without words, Freddie dismissed Sam's name-calling and found a seat in the corner. Freddie was familiar with the shadowed space, having spent many dances alone and lonely. Tonight, a new sensation filled his being. Watching his classmates twirl around the 'dance floor' sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. Freddie understood that someone cared about him as much as, if not more than, those young couples putting their dramatic relationships on display. He knew that what he felt for Spencer was real, deeper than a high school sweetheart.

The hours past quickly as Freddie thought of different ways to spend time with Spencer.

The walk home with Carly and Sam would be uneventful. Freddie silently took Sam's verbal assault and listened as Carly mooned over her latest crush. When Carly invited her friends in for hot chocolate and marshmallows, Freddie resisted the urge to avoid his mother for another hour. Politely declining the invite, Freddie entered the Benson apartment and shut the door on Carly and Sam.

Freddie's mom was perched on the armchair awaiting her son's arrival. "How was your night, Freddie?"

"Great." Freddie placed a kiss on Mrs. Benson's cheek before heading to his room. "Night, mom."