Second Boys Will Be First Choice (A Brallon Fanfic)

I Was in a Motel Bedroom Last Night

                    My eyes open, my back clings to the sheet underneath me. The sunlight shines through the curtains, it's too bright and the nightmare lingers. I feel Dallon watching me, his fingers rest ethereal on my waist.

"What is it?" His voice is sultry, with sleep still resting in his throat. 

"Just a nightmare." I know my voice is shaking so I don't try and hide it.

"Tell me about it." He starts running his fingers over my stomach in a soothing motion. 

"I don't know everyone was mad at me, you were mad at me. I ended up jumping in front of a car." I speak in an even tone, noticing a weird stain on the ceiling above us. 

"If you're anxious about anything, from last night or..."

"I'm not anxious about anything that happened last night." I turn my head to look at him. He smiles,

"Well if you're anxious, rest assured, I'm not mad at you." His voice has the most unbelievable warmness in it, like soup on the coldest day of winter. 

 "It's not you I'm worried about. Speaking of which, I should check my phone." The magic dissipates leaving only memories to cling onto. Dallon flips over, leaning off the bed to reach for my jeans. He hands me my phone, I ignore the call from the hospital. Only three unread texts and one missed call, from Sarah. I check the time, 8:34, she called 15 minutes ago. I lift the phone up to my ear,

"Hey Brendon, I went to get us some breakfast, I know you probably didn't want to come home last night. I hope you're feeling better now, home by 9:30 hopefully? I love you." I set my phone on the nightstand and lean over to rest my head on Dallon's chest.

"You don't have to go home, but we can't stay here." I say reluctantly. He takes a deep breath.

"I'll drive you home." We take our time getting out of bed. I throw all my clothes in pile and take them to the bathroom. It's small and fairly clean. I hop in the shower. It's uncomfortable, dark blue tiles and a tiny motel soap bar. Reminders that this isn't my house, that I should be home with my wife. The water won't get hot enough to scorch my skin so I get out feeling clammy. I pull on the clothes from last night they smell stale, like the carpet in the room. Dallon walks into the bathroom, which is hardly big enough for the both of us. I watch him strip while I rinse my mouth with water. "What did you want to shower together?" He suggests. 

"Sure if standing millimeters apart in a cubical is your thing." I jest.  He smirks, and pulls the door to get in. The water rushes again and a thin steam fills the bathroom. "I'm going to have  a smoke." I shout over the water. A 'K' is all I get in response so I step out, pulling a pack from my pocket. The air outside is warm, breezy for the morning. It's cloudless, Dallon's Volvo is the only car in the parking lot. Nicotine clouds around my head. Dread fills all the conversations playing out in my head. "Maybe we should get a divorce, I can't even tell if you love me, I feel like there's nothing keeping us together anymore." Dallon walks out of the room and I put out my cigarette. 

"Let me return the room key and we'll get going."

"Give me the keys, I'll wait in the car." He hands me the keys and my phone. 

"Thanks." He winks and I roll my eyes. 

The car ride is silent other than the low waves coming from the radio. Traffic isn't too bad so before long we pull onto my street. A police car is sitting in my driveway, Sarah's car, isn't. Dallon squeezes my hand before I get out of the car. I tug at Dallon's shirt uncomfortably, wishing I could change before I talked to old, tired looking officer standing wearily next to his car.