Brendon walks into the house, expecting to just go up to bed and sleep off his hangover (and hopefully some of his guilt), but as he puts his foot on the bottom step, he hears his name.

He briefly considers ignoring it, but he decides against it, and instead continues down the hallway into the living room. Dallon's leaning against the kitchen doorway, holding a mug of coffee and wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants. If Brendon's brain wasn't banging against the side of his skull like it currently is, he'd be bewitched by his fiancé and his body (like the horny sonofabitch he is).

"How was your night?" Dallon asks, and then he frowns at Brendon's stunned expression. "You okay?"

Brendon nods slowly, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry, I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting you to acknowledge my presence today." he knows he sounds like a dick when he says it, but it's true.

Dallon sighs, looking down at his feet and letting his hair fall over his face. "I know. I'm sorry. I was a dick, again, and I just - I was angry, and I wanted to punish you."

"For two weeks?"

"I know! It was a dick move, I get it - but Brendon -" he looks up, his eyes pleading, "you have to understand that when I saw those messages, when I saw that you were in contact with him again, I was scared. I was scared, and angry, and I just - I know what he did to you, I know how he made you feel in those last few months, and I - I didn't want you to be reminded of that. I didn't want you to be hurt again. And most of all, I - I - Brendon, I didn't want you to leave me for him."

Brendon closes his eyes, feeling a handful of treacherous tears escape. "I'm sorry. I -" he runs a hand through his hair. "I fucked up, I shouldn't have texted him, I knew how you'd feel if you knew and I did it anyway because I'm an asshole, and I - I'm so sorry. You're right. I'm sorry."

Now would be the perfect time to confess your sins, Brendon. All of them.

Dallon sets his mug down on the dining table before wrapping Brendon in his arms, letting him cry into the soft skin of his shoulder. It's okay, he whispers, rocking Brendon gently from side to side, his words soothing. It's okay, baby. It's okay. I love you.

Would you still love me if you knew what I did?

"Sounds like someone needs to go to bed," Dallon says softly, kissing the top of Brendon's head. "Hmm?"

Brendon nods and steps back, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No more sorry," Dallon wipes a stray tear, a small smile on his face. "It's okay. We're okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

Dallon takes his hand and together they go upstairs, Brendon heading into the bathroom to pee and wash his face while Dallon gets himself comfy in bed, waiting for his fiancé. Once he's finished in the bathroom, Brendon goes into the bedroom, dropping his untouched overnight bag on the floor and stripping all of his clothes off, throwing them into the laundry hamper. He slips on a fresh pair of underwear and climbs into bed beside Dallon, who lets him nestle in the crook of his neck and wraps his arms around him, pulling him as close as he can and then some.

And as Brendon drifts off to sleep, Dallon hums a tune, something he doesn't recognise, but it's nice, and it helps calm his screaming mind enough to let him sleep.

~

When Brendon wakes up, he's alone. He doesn't feel so bad now, but whether that's because he and Dallon have made up or because he's slept some more, he's not sure. He sits upright, rubbing his eyes, just as Dallon comes into the room, holding two mugs and his laptop under his arm.

"Hey, you," he smiles, handing one of the mugs to Brendon. It's green tea, one of his favorites, and the feeling makes him warm and happy inside. Dallon kisses the top of his head before getting back into bed, taking a sip of his tea and then opening up his laptop. "How are you feeling, Mr. Party Animal?"

Brendon pokes his tongue out, setting his tea on his nightstand and grabbing his phone. "I was fine until you called me that."

Dallon chuckles, opening up a complicated-looking spreadsheet titled Wedding Budget. Brendon cuddles into his side, nuzzling into the space between his neck and his shoulder and closing his eyes. He slings his arm around Dallon's waist, his fingers idly fiddling with the waistband of his pajama pants.

"What are you up to?" Brendon asks, hearing Dallon typing away.

"Just looking at some wedding stuff, trying to figure out how much money we have and who we want to invite." replies Dallon, reaching beneath the sheets to briefly squeeze Brendon's knee. "So far I have my mom and dad, your mom, your sister and her husband, my brothers, and Frank and the Ways."

"What about Spencer?"

Dallon's silent for a moment, and then he sighs. "You know Spencer hates me."

"Spencer hates everyone, Dall, it's not -"

"Yeah but he hates me the most." Brendon sits up and meets his eyes, brushing his hair away from them. "We can invite him if you want to invite him, he's one of your friends after all, but - I just wasn't sure if you'd want him there."

Brendon shrugs. "I'll think about it."

"Okay. Sounds good to me." Dallon nods. "Anyone else?" Brendon briefly thinks about inviting Ryan, but he knows it would be an awful idea to even mention it, let alone mention it, so he decides against it. Dallon nods again, typing something into the laptop and saying, offhandedly, "What about Ryan and his fiancé?"

The older of the two frowns, trying to figure out if Dallon put something in his tea. "Did I just hear you suggest we invite my ex-boyfriend to our wedding?"

Dallon shrugs, eyeing Brendon out the corner of his eye. "Yeah, it might be fun."

Brendon scoffs, seeing right through him. "You just want to rub it in his face, don't you?" He shakes his head, climbing out of bed, and as luck would have it, his phone rings, flashing Frank on the screen. "You're unbelievable."

"I love you!" Dallon calls, grinning, as Brendon leaves the room, answering the call.

"Hey, man," he says, heading downstairs and onto the back porch. "How's it going?"

"Brendon, be straight with me here: did you break into my house this morning?" Frank says, his voice thick with sleep, and Brendon laughs.

"Yeah, I had to get my shit before I went home."

"So does that mean you didn't stay at mine last night?"

"Uh...no, I didn't. I stayed -" he hesitates. "- somewhere else."

"I thought so. Did you stay with Ryan? Did you two get it on over there?"

"Frank, I swear -" Brendon pinches the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes, fighting a smile. "Yes I did, no we didn't."

"You're full of shit, Brendon Urie."

"Nothing happened!"

"You're lying to me, I know you are." Frank chuckles, and he says, in a sing-song voice reminiscent of when the two of them, along with Spencer, were kids together, "I'm telling Dal-lon, I'm telling Dal-lon!"

"No, you can't!"

"Oh, so something did happen?"

Brendon's face flushes as he thinks about the night he had with Ryan Ross, his ex-boyfriend. "Yeah. It happened."

"You are so naughty. Although, I can hardly talk - I woke up an hour ago in-between the way brothers." Brendon makes a mental note to tell Ryan he was right. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"Makes you wonder what?" Brendon asks, though he's not sure he wants to know the answer.

"Well, y'know..."

"No, I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

"If they got freaky while I was asleep. Like, with each other. Is it still incest if you're drunk?"

"Jesus Christ Frank, yes it's still incest if you're drunk." Brendon feels like he's going to vomit, but Frank just laughs on the other end of the phone. "Did you really need to tell me that?"

"Yes, of course, I absolutely did - what are friends for?"

They talk for a little longer, mostly about what Frank got up to after Brendon left last night, and that Spencer ended up making out with some random guy - which surprised Brendon a lot because he'd never done that before. He gets off the phone to Frank, and he's about to text Spencer and ask him if he really made out with some random guy last night, when a text comes through from the man he's about to text.