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Chapter Four – Call Me, Mr. Benzedrine

It felt like I hadn’t gotten any sleep when I felt Dallon shaking me awake.

“Go away.” I mumbled into my pillow, turning my head away from him, burying my face in the sheets.

“Time to get up, Brendon.” Dallon murmured. One of his hands was on my shoulder, the other on my hip. I peeked up at him, and saw that his face was mere inches away from me.

I swallowed loudly, and made to sit up. Dallon backed away, turning to the window and pulling the curtains open.

I sighed, and fell back against my pillows.

“Laying back down is very counterproductive to waking you up.” Dallon observed as he bent over my suitcase, pulling out jeans and a tee shirt.

“I’m tired.” I whined.

“Then go back to sleep on the bus.” Dallon said. He tossed me the clothes, and I pouted. “Get up.” He patted my foot, and left.

I sat back up, confusion keeping me awake. Dallon usually kissed me when he woke me up in the mornings. I’d never really bothered deciding how I felt about it. It was routine. Why didn’t he kiss me this morning? Why did it bother me so much that he didn’t? Maybe Aaron was right. Maybe he’s giving up on me.

I pulled myself out of bed, glancing around the room. I decided that Dallon not kissing me this morning was a coincidence, and the whole Ghost of Panic’s Past thing last night was just a dream. Just a dream.

I got dressed, and hauled my stuff down to the bus. I fell into a seat at our booth table, and set my head down on it. Dallon was sitting next to me, and he ran his long fingers through my hair. I hummed softly in contentment, scooting closer to him on the bench.

After a few minutes, I heard Ian and Spencer make their way onto the bus. One of them sat down opposite us, the other stayed in a different part of the bus.

“Is he asleep?” I heard Ian ask.

“I think so.” Dallon murmured, still petting my head. “He looked exhausted when I woke him up.”

“Was that because he was up late having sex?” I could hear the smirk in Ian’s voice.

“Not unless someone else went to his room after I left.”

“You guys still haven’t…?” Ian sounded disbelieving.

“He keeps saying he can’t.” Dallon murmured. “I want to respect that.”

“You guys have been title-less in what you are to each other, but kissing and acting couple-y all the time for almost a year. Don’t you think he should know how he feels by now?” Ian said.

I frowned at the table. Ian was right. I should know how I feel.

A little voice in the back of my head that sounded like Aaron, informed me that I did know how I felt, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.

“I think it’s…” Dallon trailed off.

“What?”

“This is gonna sound stupid, but… do you think it’s… because he still wants… Ryan?” Dallon asked slowly.

“Maybe.” Ian said after a long moment. “But Brendon’s not really the kind of guy to lead someone on if he doesn’t care.”

I felt guilt seep through me. Dallon thought I was leading him on?

The stupid voice of Aaron reminded me that I kind of was leading him on, and I mentally slapped him, and told him to shut up.

“I know…” Dallon said. “And I think that he does care about me… just that he cares about Ryan more.”

I bit my lip. Even if my priorities were fucked up, Dallon deserved to feel like the best, like he was the top priority.

“If he cared about Ryan more, wouldn’t they still be together? Technically, aren’t they still friends?”

“It would be awkward.” Dallon said. “After the shit that they went through with Panic, before Ryan and Jon left…”

“But love conquers all and whatever, right?” Ian said. “If they loved each other, wouldn’t they be together, awkwardness be damned?”

“Not if the feelings were one-sided.” Dallon murmured.

I felt like I’d been punched in the chest with a giant brick of metal. Was that really what it was? I’d never told Ryan I didn’t love him anymore.

Aaron’s voice in the back of my head reminded me that I’d ended the relationship.

I stirred, trying to make it look like I was waking up. I rolled my head, and peeked at Dallon. He was smiling down at me warmly, but it didn’t touch his eyes.

“Feel better, Bren?” Dallon asked, rubbing my shoulders.

“A little.” I yawned. “Where’s Spencer?” I asked, sitting up, and stretching.

“Playing guitar hero.” Ian said.

I stood up, and moved to the back of the bus, where I found Spencer.

“Spencer, I need to talk to you.” I murmured softly, shutting the little door that connected the back section of the bus to the rest of it.

“What’s up?” He asked, eyes on the screen.

“Do you… Do you think that Ryan…” I trailed off, watching my feet.

Spencer paused the game and looked around at me.

“What, Bren?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t know.” I sat down next to him. “I feel like a jerk.” I admitted quietly.

“Why?”

“Because… I mean… Me and Dallon… then there’s Ryan, and… What do I do?”

“Try finishing some of these sentences.” Spencer suggested.

“Me and Dallon have been… not together… not really messing around… but just kind of… in mutual like, I guess, for a long time.”

“True.” Spencer nodded.

“But… I still can’t… commit to him, you know? And I think I know why.”

“Why?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“Ryan.” I answered simply.

“Bren, Ryan cheated on you.”

“But he said he didn’t mean to… I didn’t really give him a chance to explain, but whatever the story was, Jon believed it.”

The look on Spencer’s face hardened.

“Jon was probably stoned.” He snapped. “We can’t trust his judgment.”

I remained silent for a moment, waiting for the color of Spencer’s face to return to normal.

“Do you like Dallon?” Spencer finally asked. I nodded. “Then commit to him. Don’t second guess yourself on Ryan.”

I nodded again.

“Thanks, Spence.” I murmured, giving him an awkward side hug.

“No problem.” Spencer said back, returning the hug.

I joined his game, contemplating how to make it clear to Dallon that I was over whatever fears had stopped me before.

After hours of playing guitar hero, we arrived at the hotel for tonight. We took our bags up to our rooms, then piled back into the bus to go to the venue and set up.

The crew had beat us there, and they were almost done setting up when we walked in. Spencer and Ian hurried to the stage to help. Dallon made to follow, but I caught his wrist, and pulled him backstage, to the dressing room.

“Brendon?” Dallon questioned as I released his arm and shut the door. I turned to face him, and gently pressed my lips to his.

He tensed, obviously surprised, but kissed me back willingly.

I leaned into him, deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me tight against him. I pushed him into the wall, and set my hands on his hips, grinding into him slightly. He let out a soft moan, then pulled away from me.

“Brendon…” He panted, giving me a gentle push to separate our bodies.

I stepped back, confused. Isn’t this what he wanted?

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Well, currently, I’m standing here.” I said, raising an eye brow.

“No, I mean… Why are you… and what…” He looked as confused as I felt.

“Do you have a problem with me kissing you?” I asked.

“No! No, of course not, Brendon. I just… I’m confused.”

“Ditto.” I nodded.

“I mean… last night you didn’t… And… what?”

I gently cupped his cheek, and kissed him again.

He moaned softly, and wrapped his fingers in my hair to keep our bodies held together.

“Fuck, Bren…” He whispered, panting against my lips. “We need to stop.” He murmured, moving his mouth to my neck. “We have to go perform.”

“I know…” I murmured, closing my eyes and allowing myself to get lost in the sensation of his lips of my neck. Like how Ryan used to…

I refused to let myself finish the sentence in my head. A certain someone was not going to ruin this for me. Fuck that.

“After the show?” Dallon suggested, peeking up at me. I nodded, and he grinned, pressing a light kiss to the skin under my jaw.


A/N: Who saw that one coming? Please Rate and Review!