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Brendon wasn’t sure exactly what to think; his mind was racing with no real finish in mind. After walking in on Dallon and comforting him, something still felt… off. The energy of the show was swayed; it was more emotional than any other night. Even Spencer and Ian, who were oblivious to what had happened, felt it too.
Dallon’s eyes were bright, his face still minimally blotchy. The other guys had seemingly noticed Dallon’s altered appearance when they had emerged from the secret room before the show. Dallon had come up with some sort of bull response to hide it.
Brendon, obviously, knew he was lying, but let it slide. Dallon was having a rough day, and, Brendon was still shaken up about it too. He had never realized that Dallon had his own problems, it never crossed his mind.
He tried to focus on singing. He also made an effort to stand closer to Dallon than normal that night, just as a silent I’m here for you sort of thing. He was sure that Dallon understood, as he gave Brendon a bright smile (eyes watering a bit, but that could’ve been from the pyrotechnics) when they caught each other’s glance during Sins.
Spencer raised an eyebrow at Brendon, but he shook his head in response. Dallon had very clearly just entrusted him with this information and to not tell anyone. He also trusted him enough to tell him this in the first place, it just wasn’t the right time before. Brendon wanted to help him, though. Figuring out what’s wrong is just the first step, though.
The show ended with no other important events. Brendon made sure to introduce Dallon extra specially, just to show him love. “And, tonight,” he had yelled, gesticulating wildly, “I am especially excited to announce to you the one and only, the love of my life, that tall glass of water just to my left: Dallon J. Weekes!” The crowd went wild.
A blush had decorated Dallon’s smooth cheeks for the rest of the show. It was so worth it, Brendon decided.
When they arrived backstage minutes later, Dallon spun to face Brendon. “Why?”
Brendon feigned innocence. “Who, me?” He giggled. “I had to proclaim my love for you, m’dear!” He fluttered his eyelashes at Dallon.
“’A tall glass of water’?” Dallon pushed his hair out of his eyes.
“Yes,” Brendon stressed, winking at Dallon. “My tall glass of water.” He giggled once again at Dallon’s incredulous face.
“Just… shush.” Dallon blushed again. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. Brendon could tell that they were still crusty from his earlier crying. He shot Dallon a worried glance. Dallon shook his head and mouthed ‘Later’.
Brendon nodded before grinning bright once again. “I can never stop, Dal. You’re just too adorable when you blush! It makes my day about 100 percent better each time.”
“’M not adorable, ‘m manly,” Dallon mumbled. He cocked his hip out and took a second to look himself over. He took a worriedly long time glancing at his stomach (a perfect stomach, mind you) and Brendon felt his stomach drop. It can’t be. “Maybe not manly,” Dallon amended.
Brendon, out of nowhere, surged forward and slapped Dallon’s butt. It jiggled, causing Brendon to laugh (and Dallon to flush red again). “My manly man,” Brendon concluded.
Dallon rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He yawned widely. “That show, and, uh… yeah, the show wore me out.” Brendon lifted an eyebrow. He, of course, knew what Dallon was omitting, but only Zack remained in the room, and he had on a pair of headphones. He wasn’t listening. Brendon guessed that Dallon was embarrassed, which was perfectly understandable. He would be too.
“Let’s go to the bus,” Brendon suggested, glancing back and forth between Dallon and Zack. Dallon nodded.
“Sure.” Brendon took Dallon’s hand—ignored how he flinched ever-so-slightly—and pulled him out of their greenroom. Spencer and Ian were still nowhere to be found.
“We’ll be back in the bus, Zack!” Brendon called back, as they quickly exited.
“Don’t have sex! That’s the last thing I want to walk in on,” Zack yelled back in response. Brendon noticed Dallon’s blush even in the low light of the hallway and he smiled. He loved making Dallon blush.
“Don’t worry, that’s what I’m saving for later—don’t want to overwhelm him with my boyish good looks.”
They were silent for the duration of the walk to the bus. Brendon was unsure what to say—how does he broach (again) such a topic? He felt as he did earlier that day—scared, concerned, and confused. He didn’t like it one bit. He just wanted to know that he friend was actually okay.
They climbed the few steps to their bus when, on the last step, Dallon tripped. His long legs went everywhere, nearly tripping Brendon too. A loud crash was heard and Dallon smacked his head on the table to the left of the stairs.
“Holy crap! Dallon, are you okay?!” Brendon almost shouted, before quieting down. He was afraid that Dallon might cry again. That was the last thing he wanted.
“Just peachy,” Dallon muttered. “My head hurts, though, and… I’m sorry, B.”
“Don’t be sorry, Dal.” Brendon hoped—prayed, even—that Dallon wouldn’t take this too seriously, in spite of his emotional state.
“My stupid legs,” Dallon said, obviously trying to make it sound like he was joking, but Brendon could hear the subtle notes of self-hatred creep into his lovely voice. Oh, Dallon.
“No, I love your legs,” Brendon insisted, patting Dallon’s nicely shaped thighs lovingly. “Don’t you worry. They’re perfect.”
Dallon made a noise of disagreement.
“Dallon,” Brendon stressed, “believe me. C’mon, stand up, let’s go sit on the couch, okay? I can then continue to tell you how perfect you are.” Dallon mumbled something unintelligible. “Dal, please.” Brendon then realized that he was still leaning on Dallon’s legs, obscuring his movement. “Oh, sorry,” he said, laughing slightly.
He pulled himself up over Dallon and climbed into the living room. “Dallon.”
“Coming,” Dallon called. He sounded distressed. Brendon felt his throat constrict. “Coming.” Brendon could hear Dallon pull himself up and stumble unceremoniously into his view. Dallon rubbed his eyes, which were red and puffy.
“Sit here,” Brendon directed, patting the seat next to him. “Please.” Dallon nodded and slowly made his way over to Brendon. He was shaking and Brendon wanted to just jump up and give him a massive hug, but he didn’t. Self-control, for the win. He smiled softly at Dallon, who sat heavily next to Brendon.
Brendon could feel the body heat rolling off in waves. He threw an arm over Dallon’s shaking shoulders. “Talk to uncle B., tell me what’s wrong.”
Dallon giggled, then sobered. “It’s… complicated.” He glanced at his lap and linked his long, thin fingers together. “I…” he trailed off and shut his eyes tight.
“I?” Brendon asked. “You can trust me, Dal. I saw you, uh, staring earlier. You know that your body is perfect just the way it is, right?” Dallon flushed, still not looking away from his clasped hands. “Trust me.”
“It’s not,” Dallon choked out suddenly, “it’s not, my, uh…”
“Your body is amazing. I love each and every bit of you, Dallon Weekes.” Brendon leaned over and kissed Dallon’s nose.
“But I don’t,” Dallon said, suddenly firm. “I don’t.”
“Oh Dallon.” Brendon pulled him tighter to his side. Dallon was still shaking.
“It’s okay,” Dallon said meekly. “It really is.”
“No, it’s not,” Brendon insisted. “Dallon, you’re perfect how you are. Per-fect.” Dallon shook his head.
“It’s okay. When I was… y-you know, uh, yeah, it was just a needed release.” Dallon’s hair fell over his stormy blue eyes. A tear dripped down his face; Brendon reached up and brushed it away.
“I understand.” And he did, he really did. 4 or so years ago, this was him. “When I was younger, well, uh about 4 years ago, I hated—no, despised—I despised myself. Every part of me… it sucked, and I didn’t want to be myself anymore. I didn’t want to be in my messed up body. I-I get it.” He began to stumble.
Dallon fell silent. Brendon held his breath; the only person who knew what Ryan, and look where that ended up.
“How?” Dallon’s voice was raspy. “How did you learn to love yourself?” He spoke quietly, concisely.
Brendon stilled. He wasn’t sure how to phrase his response; it was so many things that really helped him. “I learned to first see the good in myself.” He tried to speak as controlled as he could. “I learned that I was perfect the way that I am. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard. It took a lot of work… days were…yeah.”
A beat of silence.
“Okay,” Dallon said simply. “Okay.”
Brendon thought of something else. “I, uh, also t-talked to R-Ryan, but any friends work. They helped me.”
“How do you bring up something like this?” Dallon’s voice was shaking more heavily now.
“I don’t know, honestly. It j-just… came up. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, Dal. I truly care about you, though. So much.” Brendon held him tighter.
“I-I know. T-Thank you, B. Y-You’re helping. I promise.” Dallon snuggled into Brendon’s shoulder.
“Promise me you’ll let me help you. I want to.”
“I-I promise,” Dallon said hesitantly. “I-I want your help.” He paused. “Please.” Brendon ruffled Dallon’s hair. He understood how hard this was for Dallon.
He kissed Dallon’s forehead and brushed another tear that had streaked his face. “Don’t you worry,” he whispered. “I will.”