Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco
Dangerously Intimate
3 reviewsFirst chapter, more of a teaser to see if yall think i should continue it.
1Exciting
“Brendon, for the last time, no, I will not kiss your cold sore better. That shit is herpes. I’ve never had a cold sore in my life and I don’t plan on starting now. You can bring kisses to me after that thing’s gone away.”
Dallon could hear Brendon and Spencer bickering on the other side of the bus, Brendon wanting kisses for his aching cold sore and Spencer vehemently denying him. Dallon sighed. When he’d signed up to be the band’s temporary bassist, he had no idea there’d be so much relationship drama going on between Brendon and Spencer. He guessed Ian didn’t have that idea either, because ever since the bickering between the two began, he spent barely any time with them.
“Dallooooon!” Came a loud wail, accompanied by Brendon’s sudden presence in Dallon’s lap. “Spencie won’t kiss it betterrrrrrr!”
“Brendon, what did we say about personal space? I need it, right? Elbow room, yeah?”
Brendon merely pouted and climbed off Dallon’s lap, lying on the couch and pressing his bare feet to Dallon’s thigh. He squished Dallon’s leg with his toes, something he knew Dallon hated, but he did it anyway, especially when he wanted something out of the bassist.
“Brendon,” Dallon said again. “What am I really supposed to do about Spencer not kissing your cold sore better, hm?”
“You kiss it.”
“No.”
“Whyyy.”
“Because why would I want to?”
In truth, Dallon could answer his own question; it was a completely foolish one to ask. Brendon was gorgeous and talented and funny and quirky and happy all the time and just wonderful, overall. Dallon had liked him since he’d first seen him, and it was part of the reason why he hated Spencer and Brendon’s constant fighting.
“Because I’m your best friiiiiend,” Brendon said in a whine, giving Dallon one of his infamous pouts and sitting up to cling to his arm.
“I could get you some cold sore medicine instead,” Dallon offered.
“Yes!”
“Okay well. C’mon then.”
Dallon lead him into the kitchen and opened the cupboard full of their various medicines. Dallon was pretty sure that’s where Brendon kept his weed too, but it’s not like he was complaining. High Brendon was entertaining. He got out the cold sore medicine and squeezed a little on his finger.
“Open.”
When Brendon did, Dallon dabbed some of the stuff onto his lip. “There. Aaalllll better.”
Brendon just stood there smiling and giggling. Dallon backed up with a small laugh. “Okay…”
At that point the phone decided to ring and Dallon lunged for it, his escape route from being so painfully close to Brendon. “Hello?”
“Dallon! Hey! It’s Pete.”
“Oh, hey Pete.”
Upon hearing this, Brendon skittered away into the other room, making a rather loud thud as he dove into his bunk.
“Do you think you could send Brendon my way? I know it’s late, but I figured you guys were in Chicago by now.”
“Yeah, we’re here. Um, yeah, I’ll have him come over.”
“Thank youuu. Bye.”
And then Pete hung up. Dallon shrugged and went into the bunk room. “Bren, Pete wants to see you.”
“No!”
“Bren, you can’t just say no. He’s kind of your boss.”
“Don’t wanna!”
“Why.”
“He’s a meanie.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
“Can’t tell.”
Dallon rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like a child. Just go over there, yeah?”
Brendon huffed. “I really really don’t want to.”
“Just go.”
Brendon crawled out of bed a moment later, sullen and pale. His eyes weren’t bright as usual, they were blank and basically emotionless, with hints of what seemed like fear behind them. He sighed as he pulled his shoes on. “I’ll be back tomorrow sometime.” His voice was quiet, more quiet than Dallon had ever heard it.
With that he grabbed his phone and sunglasses and stalked out the door. Dallon wondered about how Brendon was acting and peeked up into Spencer’s bunk. “Why’s Brendon acting so weird?”
“He hates going to Pete’s,” Spencer said apathetically, tapping away on his laptop.
“Why’s that?”
“He told me once Pete raped him, but it was all just a big joke. I really have no idea what they do, Brendon never tells.”
“Hmm.”
Dallon frowned and went into the living room. He sat on the couch for a minute, thinking about it. Why would Brendon hate going to Pete’s so much that he would be all pale and clammy looking?
After another moment’s consideration, he decided to go after him.
this is just the first part, i'm tryna decide whetehr im gonan continue it or not.
Dallon could hear Brendon and Spencer bickering on the other side of the bus, Brendon wanting kisses for his aching cold sore and Spencer vehemently denying him. Dallon sighed. When he’d signed up to be the band’s temporary bassist, he had no idea there’d be so much relationship drama going on between Brendon and Spencer. He guessed Ian didn’t have that idea either, because ever since the bickering between the two began, he spent barely any time with them.
“Dallooooon!” Came a loud wail, accompanied by Brendon’s sudden presence in Dallon’s lap. “Spencie won’t kiss it betterrrrrrr!”
“Brendon, what did we say about personal space? I need it, right? Elbow room, yeah?”
Brendon merely pouted and climbed off Dallon’s lap, lying on the couch and pressing his bare feet to Dallon’s thigh. He squished Dallon’s leg with his toes, something he knew Dallon hated, but he did it anyway, especially when he wanted something out of the bassist.
“Brendon,” Dallon said again. “What am I really supposed to do about Spencer not kissing your cold sore better, hm?”
“You kiss it.”
“No.”
“Whyyy.”
“Because why would I want to?”
In truth, Dallon could answer his own question; it was a completely foolish one to ask. Brendon was gorgeous and talented and funny and quirky and happy all the time and just wonderful, overall. Dallon had liked him since he’d first seen him, and it was part of the reason why he hated Spencer and Brendon’s constant fighting.
“Because I’m your best friiiiiend,” Brendon said in a whine, giving Dallon one of his infamous pouts and sitting up to cling to his arm.
“I could get you some cold sore medicine instead,” Dallon offered.
“Yes!”
“Okay well. C’mon then.”
Dallon lead him into the kitchen and opened the cupboard full of their various medicines. Dallon was pretty sure that’s where Brendon kept his weed too, but it’s not like he was complaining. High Brendon was entertaining. He got out the cold sore medicine and squeezed a little on his finger.
“Open.”
When Brendon did, Dallon dabbed some of the stuff onto his lip. “There. Aaalllll better.”
Brendon just stood there smiling and giggling. Dallon backed up with a small laugh. “Okay…”
At that point the phone decided to ring and Dallon lunged for it, his escape route from being so painfully close to Brendon. “Hello?”
“Dallon! Hey! It’s Pete.”
“Oh, hey Pete.”
Upon hearing this, Brendon skittered away into the other room, making a rather loud thud as he dove into his bunk.
“Do you think you could send Brendon my way? I know it’s late, but I figured you guys were in Chicago by now.”
“Yeah, we’re here. Um, yeah, I’ll have him come over.”
“Thank youuu. Bye.”
And then Pete hung up. Dallon shrugged and went into the bunk room. “Bren, Pete wants to see you.”
“No!”
“Bren, you can’t just say no. He’s kind of your boss.”
“Don’t wanna!”
“Why.”
“He’s a meanie.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
“Can’t tell.”
Dallon rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like a child. Just go over there, yeah?”
Brendon huffed. “I really really don’t want to.”
“Just go.”
Brendon crawled out of bed a moment later, sullen and pale. His eyes weren’t bright as usual, they were blank and basically emotionless, with hints of what seemed like fear behind them. He sighed as he pulled his shoes on. “I’ll be back tomorrow sometime.” His voice was quiet, more quiet than Dallon had ever heard it.
With that he grabbed his phone and sunglasses and stalked out the door. Dallon wondered about how Brendon was acting and peeked up into Spencer’s bunk. “Why’s Brendon acting so weird?”
“He hates going to Pete’s,” Spencer said apathetically, tapping away on his laptop.
“Why’s that?”
“He told me once Pete raped him, but it was all just a big joke. I really have no idea what they do, Brendon never tells.”
“Hmm.”
Dallon frowned and went into the living room. He sat on the couch for a minute, thinking about it. Why would Brendon hate going to Pete’s so much that he would be all pale and clammy looking?
After another moment’s consideration, he decided to go after him.
this is just the first part, i'm tryna decide whetehr im gonan continue it or not.
Sign up to rate and review this story