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Dallon had always been quiet. Brendon thought that that would change when they started their relationship but it didn’t. Dallon was still distant, quiet, but Brendon realized pretty quick that that was just Dallon. He spoke with his body, with his actions, his eyes rather than with his words. He wrote poetry and when he gave Brendon a peak, that was the most Brendon had seen of the real Dallon Weekes.
But after two and a half years of dating, of what Brendon would consider the best years of his life, Dallon was unusually distant.
He was avoiding Brendon. He barely talked, barely even looked at Brendon. He wrote furiously in his notebook when they were together but he never offered to show. Brendon had looked over Dallon’s shoulder before, had read while Dallon wrote but when he tried to this time, Dallon covered it. He shut his notebook and put it under five others at the back of his desk drawer. It was very clear that Brendon wasn’t allowed and he didn’t know what to make of that.
It felt like the end. Two and a half years and he felt like this was how it ended. With Dallon growing distant, hiding, finding a way to break it to Brendon. It hurt and he spent a ridiculous amount of nights up late, trying to keep the tears from falling but it was useless. His pillow was soaked as he tried to sleep.
But he wasn’t willing to give up. Brendon had invested two and a half damn years into Dallon and he’s die before he gave up. If things ended then they ended but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
He’d bought flowers. He had a key to Dallon’s apartment and knew it was his day off. It was risky, showing up unexpected. Brendon had heard horror stories of people who’d done the verys ame and caught their partner in a compromising situation that destroyed them.
Brendon was relieved when he stood outside of Dallon’s room, listening intently. He didn’t hear any noises at first but then there was a soft curse and his heart sunk. Brendon opened the door, stepping in and when he saw Dallon completely alone sitting in front of a full length mirror. The flowers that were behind his back dropped to the floor though when Dallon turned around.
Dallon’s lips were bright red, glossy with something that looked tacky, stringy when Dallon opened his mouth to let out a gasp from shock. His eyes were rimmed with black eye liner, the lines uneven, choppy, neither side matching. Brendon didn’t know what he was supposed to say.
Dallon jumped to his feet, the look of terror on his face, like he was shaken to his core about being caught with makeup on.
“Please, just go, I didn’t mean for you to see this, you have to forget this,” he said rushedly, trying to shove Brendon back out the door. The closer he got, the worse the makeup was. Brendon could see where he’d smeared glitter over his eyelids, looking like the stuff that was bought for four year old girls. Brendon stepped on the flowers and then Dallon did the same.
“Please, I’m begging you, forget this,” he pleaded and Brendon hated how distraught Dallon seemed.
“Have you been hiding this?” Brendon finally managed and it stopped Dallon cold. The shame seemed to eat away at him, the usually tall Dallon was shrunken, shoulders slumped forward before he nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, looking away.
“Your notebook, too?” Brendon asked, keeping hands to himself out of respect for the sake of Dallon. He just nodded for a moment.
“The pages go between drawing red lips and dresses and heels to writing about how… pretty… I’d be in a dress,” he said, his voice getting quieter the more he talked. Brendon thought for a moment.
“You know I love you, right?” He asked and there seemed to be a glimmer of hope in Dallon when he looked up at Brendon. “But please, can we go wash this off?”
Dallon looked like he was on the edge of tears as he handed a pack of makeup removing wipes to Brendon, following him into a bathroom. Dallon sat on the closed toilet lid, looking up when Brendon stood between his legs. He was gentle as he wiped, mumbling his own curse as he just made a mess for a moment.
“You don’t like it,” Dallon said, trying to pose it as a question but Brendon knew better. He was at a loss for words, unsure the best way to get his thoughts out.
“You were a hot mess,” Brendon said, trying to put on a polite smile but it came out forced and it looked more like he was annoyed than polite. Dallon didn’t say anything else while Brendon finished up.
Brendon lead Dallon to his bed, sitting him down. There was an awkward tension between the two of them and Brendon decided to break it.
“Look-” He started, getting cut off.
“I know, you didn’t sign up for this. I’m sorry. I was trying to keep it away from you cause I know you don’t like that. You’ve told me that you think those gays are annoying,” he mumbled, dejected and on the edge of tears again. Brendon sighed.
“Dallon, listen to me.”
“No, just, please forget about what you saw? We can pretend like this never happened and just move on with our lives. I’ll throw it all away and we won’t have to be reminded,” he said quickly. Brendon was fed up, putting his hand over Dallon’s mouth, effectively shutting him up.
“If you would let me talk,” Brendon started, huffing quietly, “I was going to say, how about I show you the proper way to put makeup on? We’ll find you some good tutorials and everything,” he said, giving Dallon a smile. He leaned down to grab the bag full of makeup from the floor, laying it out between the two. “For now, how about I put it on?” He offered and the smile and nod from Dallon was enthusiastic.
“Really, Bren?” He asked and Brendon nodded.
“God, Dallon, this makeup is so bad. We’re going to go out tomorrow and buy you some good stuff. Maybe even that dress you were writing about, hm?”