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“Sorry, Dallon.”
It is the first thing Brendon says when they sit down on a couch backstage.
“What for?” Dallon replies lightly, although he already has an idea what Brendon is referring to.
“Northern Downpour. I went… I was out of control.” Brendon says with pain on his face.
“You were emotional.” Dallon points out. “That’s all.”
“I almost ruined the song. I wish I didn’t do that. I wish I didn’t say all that stuff about crying.” Brendon frowns.
“Brendon-” Dallon turns towards him, “I know we’ve talked about this before, but I’m gonna say it again. If you don’t feel comfortable playing the song, we can always take it off our setlist, alright?”
“I- we’ve talked about this, Dallon. I don’t want to take it away. The fans love it. It’s a special song. I just-” Brendon trails off.
Silence ensues.
“I just,” Brendon starts again, his voice cracked. “I miss him.”
“I know.” Dallon really does.
“It’s just- we could’ve had something, you know? I ruined it.”
Dallon shakes his head slowly.
“I- He wanted it. He really went for it and he really believed we could make it work. But I didn’t. I knew it wasn’t going to work. We were in a band together, we worked together, and there’s reputation, public opinions and stuff. I told him no. I ruined it.” Brendon finishes and looks at Dallon, deep sorrow visible in his eyes.
“You did the right thing for your band.” He says softly.
“Did I?” Brendon's voice sounds empty.
“You would do anything to protect the band. This I know as a fact.”
Brendon smiles sadly. He looks at Dallon and inhales. “Dallon?” He almost whispers.
“Hm?”
“Can you kiss me?” Brendon asks, shifting on the couch towards Dallon.
Dallon looks at him for a few seconds, baffled, but not completely surprised.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“C’mon. I need- I need, I just need something, something to distract me.” Brendon urges.
Dallon stares at him again. It’s not like they haven’t kissed before. They’ve done it when they were both woozy with alcohol in hotel rooms, drunk on the good audience reaction after a few shows, as a flirty joke 30 seconds before they go onstage, and even once on stage, during I Write Sins, which was probably only half an accident.
But never like this, when Brendon is hurting and broken and struggling in emotions.
“Are you sure this is really what you need?” Dallon says with a little sigh. He isn’t going to try to change Brendon’s mind. In the short year they’ve worked together, he’d learned that it was nearly impossible to do so.
Brendon nods, his eyes now teary and red, his chest heaving rapidly.
Dallon shrugs.
Brendon leans in to grab his hand, and then kisses him. Dallon shuts his eyes.
It’s different from all the other kisses they’ve shared. It is slow, so slow they hardly move their lips at all, just slowly easing them against each other’s until they fit together snugly, and they breathe into each other’s air space.
Dallon feels Brendon shudder, and his cheeks feel wet. He knows that it’s Brendon’s tears, finally overflowing.
Brendon’s breathing gradually deepens and slows down. He moves his lips a little for more pressure on Dallon’s. Dallon neither responds nor resists.
When they’re breathing steadily, Brendon pulls apart first, ducking his head. Dallon watches him and sees two more teardrops disappear into his jeans.
“I ruin everything.” Brendon says to his lap.
“No, you don’t.” Dallon tells him. Brendon looks up at him.
“Dallon,” He presses his face into Dallon’s chest. “Sorry,” he mutters into the tie.
“You’d do anything to protect the band. This I know as a fact.” Dallon repeats. He squeezes Brendon’s hand gently, and feels Brendon relax into him. He softens too and leans back against the couch.
They stay like that for a little while.