Brendon hadn't anticipated waking up on his day off to see a text from his ex, but here he is, lying in bed, reading the message over and over again while his fiancé showers in the next room.

He knows it's Ryan's number; he may have done the sensible thing and deleted all traces of him from his phone back when they broke up, but that doesn't mean he still doesn't have his number memorised in the part of his brain labeled 'stupid information'.

He's still reading the message when Dallon walks back into the room, and he quickly hides his phone, pasting an innocent smile on his face.

"What are you up to?" Dallon asks, his eyebrows furrowing as he towel-dries his hair. He's in his underwear, mostly dry, but a few small droplets of water still run down his chest, and it's all Brendon can focus on. "B? You okay?"

Brendon blinks, looking up at his fiancé, who comes and sits on the edge of the bed next to him. "Fine. I'm fine." he swallows, running a hand through Dallon's dark hair. "Just had a bad dream that I can't seem to shake, is all." he lies, hoping that the lie isn't etched all over his face.

Dallon frowns again, but this time it's concern as opposed to suspicion. "What happened?"

"It's fine, it's nothing awful, it's just -" he shrugs, but then his eyes meet Dallon's and all he wants to do is tell the truth, Ryan texted me, but the truth is so hard to get out. "I dreamt that you met someone else." He looks away as he says it, because he's fully aware that Dallon will know he's lying if he keeps looking into his eyes as he speaks.

There's a pause, and then Dallon laughs, just a little, getting to his feet. "I love you, Brendon, but you're an idiot."

He makes a face, offended. "Wow, thanks."

Dallon pulls a t-shirt over his head. "Why would I ever want someone else when I've got the most perfect man sitting in my bed?"

That's what I thought seven years ago. Brendon banishes the thought into the corner of his mind, the same place Ryan's number and his favourite movie is. "Where is he? I'd like to meet him."

His fiancé fixes him with a deadpan stare, folding his arms. "Please tell me you're not being serious. Please tell me you know I'm talking about you when I say that I have the most perfect man sitting in my bed."

Brendon copies him, folding his arms too, a smirk dancing across his lips. "No, I think you've got the wrong man. You must be talking about someone else."

Dallon's eyes turn playful, an eyebrow arching. "Is that so?"

Brendon nods. "Mm-hm."

In three quick strides, Dallon's on the bed, grabbing Brendon's legs and pulling him down so that he's lying on his back. He pins Brendon's wrists above his head and kisses him deeply, Brendon's phone falling to the floor with a dull thunk, the text forgotten as his legs wrap around his fiance's waist.

He's going to make Dallon late for work, but when he's kissing him like this, how can he resist?

~

Brendon needs to go out and get groceries, but he can't find his phone. He looks all over the house for it, even searching the unlikely places, like the medicine cabinet in the upstairs bathroom, and under the kitchen sink.

He's standing in the bedroom, hands on his hips, when he sees it poking out from under the bed.

Rolling his eyes, he picks it up, sitting on the edge of the bed as unlocks it, pushing his hair out of his eyes. And there's that text again. He'd all but forgotten about it, thanks to Dallon and his hands and his mouth. But now it's back, shoving its way to the forefront of his mind, demanding to be noticed. And boy, does he notice.

He reads the timestamp: 4:22am. What the fuck was Ryan doing in the middle of the night to make him decide that texting his ex-boyfriend was a good idea?

Brendon's mouth is dry, and his hands shake as he reads and rereads the message. Back when they were young, and in love, Ryan had been fascinated by the moon, and he loved it almost as much as he loved Brendon. Ryan called him 'moonshine' one night, and for some reason, it stuck, despite the fact that moonshine was a type of alcohol (this was a fact that he reminded Ryan of constantly). So for Ryan to suddenly text him now, two years after their breakup, and tell him that he'd thought of him while looking at the moon, is a big fucking deal.

He shakes his head, snapping out of it as he gets to his feet. It doesn't matter. Ryan was probably drunk when he sent that, and anyway, it was more than likely meant for his own fiancé. He'd just sent it to the wrong person. That was it.

He has groceries to buy before Dallon gets home, anyway.

He slips his feet into his sneakers before grabbing his keys and his jacket, stuffing a few carrier bags into his pocket. It doesn't take him long to walk to Walmart, and the blast of warm air that punches him in the face when he steps in almost knocks him off his feet. He grabs a trolley and puts his earbuds in, pressing play on a random playlist while he gets into the 'zone'. Once he's in the 'zone', grocery shopping becomes a little easier. It's when he's got no list and no distraction that it all becomes suffocating.

They're out of almost everything, so Brendon goes through each aisle, grabbing this and that and putting it in the trolley, humming along to his music. He's looking at the peanut butter, trying to decide which brand that Dallon favors, when someone taps him on the shoulder.

He jumps, yanking his earbuds out, ready to give whoever disturbed him a piece of his mind, but he decides against it when he sees Frank Iero standing there. Thank fuck, he thinks. With the way his luck's been going recently, he was fully expecting to see Ryan. That would've been a disaster.

"Hey, Frank," he says, pressing a hand to his heart.

"Hey, you alright?" Frank's eyebrows furrow, but he's smirking. In his hands he has a basket with a few things, bread and milk and cheese, just the essentials, and he too has earbuds in his ears.

"Yeah, sorry," he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "I thought you were - never mind. Thought you were someone else."

"D'you think I was Ryan?" Brendon winces. "Yeah, I heard about that. Must've been rough, seeing him after all that time."

He shrugs. Frank's not wrong. "How'd you find out?"

"Dallon told Mikey, who told me."

Brendon's jaw tightens. One thing - maybe the only thing - that he hates about Dallon is how much of a gossip he is. The tiniest tidbit of information, once given to Dallon, will be spread around to all of their friends and then some within a matter of days, and it really gets on Brendon's nerves. He didn't want everyone and their mom knowing that he'd bumped into his ex-boyfriend, thank you very much.

"Did he." It's a statement, not a question, and he rolls his eyes. "It was nice of him to let you guys know."

"To be fair to the guy, he was worried about you when he told Mikey. Said he wasn't sure how you were taking it, seeing as you never talk about you-know-who." Frank shrugs. "Anyway. It's Mikey's birthday in a couple weeks, we're all gonna go out for a few drinks, hit up Jinxxd, have a good time. You in?"

Despite not seeing them for a long time, especially since becoming Dallon's boyfriend (Dallon doesn't like Brendon's friends too much, for some reason), Brendon feels happy that he's been invited out with them. He half-expects them to not bother anymore, but it makes him feel better to know they still think about him. He just needs to work on keeping in touch more. Especially with Spencer.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm in," Brendon smiles widely, nodding. "Let me know when and where and I'll be there."

"Awesome!" Frank grins, grabbing his phone from his pocket, presumably to let Mikey know that Brendon will be there on his birthday. He looks down at his phone, and then glances up at Brendon through his lashes. "Dallon can come too, if he wants."

Brendon isn't sure Dallon will want to come, but he's happy that they've offered, nonetheless. It's no secret that Dallon doesn't like Brendon's friends, and it's also no secret that they much prefer Brendon's first choice in boyfriend, rather than his second. But it's grown-up of them to offer, despite all of this.

"I'll ask him," says Brendon, licking his lips. "Thanks, Frank."

"Hey, it's no problem. I'd better get going, though, Gee will be upset if he doesn't have milk with his tea tonight." he rolls his eyes but there's a smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. "See you soon, okay?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Frank salutes and then wanders off, his music blaring, air-drumming to whatever he has playing in his ears. Frank's been Brendon's best friend since they were in elementary school, spending their younger days playing pranks on the teachers instead of doing their schoolwork. They spent more time in detention than out of it, and everyone expected them to change when they went to high school, but they didn't. Brendon calmed down a little, but he was still eager to help Frank be as chaotic as possible.

It fills Brendon with warmth to know that his best friend still likes him, even after everything.

He finishes his shopping and heads home, the thought of his fiancé gossiping about him rocketing around in his brain and souring his mood. He gets home before Dallon, managing to pack the shopping away and grab himself a glass of banana-strawberry smoothie before Dallon walks in the door.

He's sitting at the dining table, his laptop open and his glass in his hand, when Dallon comes up and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

"Hey, you." he says, shrugging off his jacket. Brendon grunts in response, an ugly mood creeping into him. He does his best to shrug it off, because he doesn't want to be like this again, not with Dallon, but he can't help it. He's upset, and he has no idea what Dallon said about him to Mikey. "You okay?"

Brendon closes his laptop, taking a deep breath through his nose before looking up at Dallon. "I saw Frank today," his voice shakes, along with his hands, but he doesn't miss the almost imperceptible look of disgust that flits across Dallon's face as he talks about his best friend. "I was in Walmart and bumped into him while I was looking for your peanut butter. I hope I got the right one, by the way."

Dallon pauses, leaning against the back of the couch, his hands folded over his chest. "Is he okay?"

Brendon gets to his feet, repeating calm, calm, calm, calm over and over in his head, like a mantra. He can't be mean. No matter how upset he is (which is a lot), he can't be mean. This is Dallon, not Ryan. This is a completely different boyfriend, and he doesn't need to be mean. Dallon's not mean.

He takes a deep breath. "Why did you tell Mikey that we saw Ryan the other night?"

This time, the disgust is clear on Dallon's face. "What did Frank tell you? 'Cause it's probably not true."

"Please answer my question, Dallon."

Dallon exhales through his nose, rolling his eyes. "I was just chatting to Mikey, and he asked me how it had gone at Jinxxd the other night, and I told him that it was a good time, apart from the fact that we saw your scummy ex-boyfriend."

"Please don't talk about him like that," the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, before he realises how bad that sounds.

"Oh come on, Brendon, nobody needs to defend that asshole, least of all you. He's a scumbag, and you know it."

It's true, but he doesn't want to say it. Besides, for once this isn't about Ryan.

"As usual, you're missing the point." Brendon folds his arms, the shaking spreading up his arms and causing his body to vibrate with anger. Don't be mean, don't be mean.

"And what is that, my darling?"

"I'm upset because you're gossiping about me behind my back!"

"Come on, Brendon, it wasn't gossiping - Mikey asked a question and I answered it. Is that not allowed now?"

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

Dallon huffs, rolling his eyes. "I just don't see why you're getting so upset about it."

"I'm upset because you're not listening to me!"

"Okay, Brendon," Dallon brushes past him and grabs a chair, sitting down. He crosses one leg over the other and folds his arms, looking expectantly up at the younger man. "I was listening to you before, but now I'm really listening to you."

Brendon pinches the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut. "Don't do this." he says, and he hears Dallon splutter.

"Don't do what? You wanted me to listen to you, isn't that what I'm doing?"

"No, you're patronising me, just like you always do." he opens his eyes, shaking his head. "I can't deal with you when you're like this. Come and find me when you're ready to apologise for being an asshole."

Without waiting for an answer, Brendon leaves the room, storming upstairs and heading to their bedroom. He slams the door behind him, and he throws himself onto the bed, his whole body vibrating with sadness and anger. He waits, breathing heavily, for Dallon to come up and apologise, but he doesn't. He's left alone.