Brendon's never been engaged before.

He can't stop staring at his ring, unable to believe that someone loves him enough to marry him. He's just so happy. He hasn't been this happy in a long, long time.

He's meant to be putting books back out onto their shelves, but he's very distracted. Mostly because his fiancé - fiancé!!! - keeps texting him to tell him how much he loves him, but also because of this shiny ring on his hand. It's nothing flashy, just a plain silver band with I am yours, forever engraved on the inside, but he adores it. Almost as much as he adores Dallon.

Things haven't been easy for them, not by a long shot; he was the man that he cheated on his ex with, after all. But they've managed to make it work between them. Sacrifices had been made. Once they'd made their relationship public, Brendon decided he should probably leave his job at the music store he was working at, instead deciding to get a job at the local library. Working with his boyfriend would've been weird, and a bit unprofessional, not to mention it would make things awkward if - god forbid - they split up.

But things have been wonderful with Dallon, much more wonderful than they had been with Ryan, and even though thinking about Ryan makes him a little breathless, Brendon knows that Dallon is much, much better for him. In every way.

Brendon finishes emptying his trolley of books, and then he checks his watch. It's 12:07pm, which not only means that it's break time, but also that he can call his fiancé. The word still feels foreign in his brain, but it's not even been twenty-four hours yet, so that might be why. He doesn't care; he's happy, he's engaged, things are looking up.

It's just that black cloud at the back of his mind making him doubt himself.

He sits in the break room and gets his sandwich out of his bag, his hand dialling Dallon's number. He answers on the third ring, his voice bright.

"Hey, baby. How's it going?"

Brendon smiles at the sound of his voice, feeling warm and fuzzy inside. "Hey, you. It's going okay, it's really quiet for some reason, which is good, 'cause I keep getting distracted."

"Distracted? By what?"

"By you! What else am I gonna be distracted by?"

Dallon chuckles. "There are plenty of things for you to get distracted by, B. Your mind always wanders."

"Hey, that's not fair. This is your fault. If you hadn't proposed -"

"Oh so you don't accept my proposal?"

"What? No, don't be stupid, I just meant -"

"I'm messing with ya, honey." He laughs again, making Brendon's stomach do flip flops. Even after two and a half years, he still gets all giddy when he's around Dallon. It's just how much he loves him, he guesses. "I love you, you know?"

"I know, Dal, I love you more."

"Nuh-uh, I love you most."

"Mm-hm, I think you're wrong, but we'll discuss it when I get home, if you'd like?"

"Sounds good to me." Dallon pauses, and Brendon can hear him shuffling. It's his day off, so he'll be at home, most likely watching Netflix with the dogs. "Hey, do you fancy going out for a couple of drinks tonight, to celebrate? Mikey messaged me, says a friend of his brother's just opened a new LGBTQ+ bar downtown, wants to know if we wanna go down there?"

"Yeah, that sounds great! I get out of here at six, but it won't take me long to get changed and stuff."

"I'll pick you up after work, we can come back here and cuddle for a bit before we have to go out, I'll just tell Mikey we'll be there just after nine."

"Sounds perfect, baby. I'll see you at six, then?"

"I'll see you at six, B. I love you!"

"I love you more, angel."

Dallon hangs up, and Brendon finishes his lunch in silence. They don't often go out together, usually choosing to go out to dinner or to watch a movie, but sometimes they'll go out for a few drinks with their friends. And it's always a great time, especially since Dallon gets very horny when he's drunk. They never did anything unless Brendon was also drunk, which was, admittedly, most of the time, and drunk sex was always incredible, but when Brendon was sober, seeing Dallon stupidly horny was always amusing.

When Brendon goes back out to work, he hums to himself as he walks through the aisles with his trolley, laden with books, a spring in his step. It's nice to have something to look forward to.

~~~

"Fuck, Dallon, you're gonna make me come," Brendon moans, eyes closed, hands pressed against the glass of the shower wall as Dallon fucks him, his hips snapping hard and fast and his hands firmly at Brendon's own hips.

"Oh, baby..." Dallon murmurs, fisting a hand in Brendon's wet hair, pulling on it as he chases his release. "You feel so fucking good..."

They started off showering together to save time, as they wanted to have something to eat before they went out, but then Brendon just had to go and be all sexy, and they started kissing, and one thing led to another and now here they are. Fucking. In the shower.

Brendon curses, low and loud, reaching down to wrap a hand around himself, pumping quickly in an effort to reach his climax. He can feel it coming, creeping up on him fast, and he whispers right there right there right there as his toes curl and his arms shake and then and then -

And then his knees threaten to buckle as his orgasm hits him like a train, and he's coming hard over his hand. He barely registers Dallon's hips stilling as he comes inside him, his forehead resting between his shoulder blades. Dallon pulls out, leaving him feeling empty, and he wraps his arms around Brendon's waist, pressing a wet kiss against his neck.

"I love you, baby," Dallon murmurs, and Brendon smiles, turning around on wobbly legs in his arms.

"I love you too, sex machine," he replies, and his fiancé rolls his eyes, stepping back to grab the loofah and Brendon's shower gel.

"Sex machine," he mutters to himself, squeezing shower gel onto the loofah, and Brendon closes his eyes as Dallon begins to wash him.

He moves obediently so that Dallon can reach all the nooks and crannies, and he's ever so gentle when it comes to cleaning his sensitive cock and his messy asshole. Brendon melts at the sensation, biting his lip as Dallon presses a quick kiss to the head of his cock. Once Brendon's been all soaped up, he steps under the spray of water to rinse himself off while Dallon washes himself.

While Dallon finishes his shower, Brendon steps out and wraps a towel around his waist, heading into the bedroom. The radio's on in the corner, quietly playing some classic rock, which Brendon hums along to as he looks through his wardrobe to find something to wear. He's so distracted that he doesn't notice Dallon until he whistles, making him jump. He rolls his eyes and takes off his towel, slipping on some underwear while Dallon towel-dries his hair.

"What am I meant to wear?" Brendon pouts, standing at the wardrobe with his hands on his hips. It's been a long time since he and Dallon last went out, and he's scared he's going to look like garbage compared to everyone else, especially his fiancé.

"I mean, if you ask me, you're fine as you are." Dallon shrugs, and the younger man throws him a glare. "But if you don't want to be kicked out, just a button-up and some jeans will be fine. You look hot in everything."

Brendon rolls his eyes but smiles anyway; he's still not used to someone telling him how attractive he is all the time, even after all this time together. After all, it wasn't as if he got a lot of that in the last relationship he had. He pulls on a pair of tight black jeans and a white button-up shirt, even going so far as to tuck his shirt in. Dallon chooses to wear dark blue jeans with a black button-up shirt, slipping his black denim jacket over the top. Brendon reckons that Dallon Weekes is literally the only person in the entire world that can pull off double denim. Apart from himself, in a different sense.

They grab a bite of leftover pasta from Dallon's lunch, and then they head out of the house and downtown to the bar. It's a short walk, about half an hour, and the evening is nice and mild, so they're not cold, but they're not warm, either. Which is good, because Brendon really does not want to be sweating his tits off when he gets to the bar. That comes later.

He's glad the weather isn't gross for another reason: there's a huge queue outside the bar. He's not surprised; queer-exclusive clubs are few and far between around downtown Vegas, so everyone jumps at the chance to experience a new one, and Jinxxd is no different. Brendon has no idea why it's called Jinxxd, in fact he barely knows the guy that owns it (a friend of a friend of a friend), and he and Dallon shrug at each other as people slowly filter in.

It takes them at least half an hour to get in, and when they do, the place is packed. Luckily, there are three floors, each one offering the same experience in more space. They look around and find a booth just to the right of the bar, and Brendon sits down while Dallon goes and gets them a double rum and coke each. There are already people on the dancefloor, which is to be expected really, considering it's half past nine at night and a lot of people are already drunk.

It doesn't take long for Dallon to return, which is surprising as there are so many people there, trying to get the bartenders' attention. He sits down, handing Brendon his drink, and he scooches close, their thighs pressing firmly together, so that they can hear each other over the music.

"Wonder where Mikey is," Dallon shouts, and Brendon shrugs, because he's wondering that too. "I'll message him."

As Dallon's typing away on his phone, Brendon looks around, trying to see if there's anyone that he recognises. There's nobody yet, or there is and he just can't see them for the amount of people. He doesn't know. His eyes scan the crowd, and he does a double take as he sees a familiar dusty rose jacket.

His stomach lurches into his mouth as he sees him. His hair is curly, looking freshly washed, and there's a five-o-clock shadow on his face. He looks different. He's smiling, holding hands with another guy with long hair, talking close and laughing together as they make their way to the bar. And then he looks around, hazel eyes locking with Brendon's, and his smile fades. And try as he might, Brendon can't look away, because standing there is his ex-boyfriend, Ryan Ross, a man he hasn't seen for almost two years.

And Brendon's heart has all but stopped beating.