Tripping Down 12 Steps Into Malibu

Bettering Brendon

Brendon woke up feeling better than he had in a long time. His body twisted comfortably under the bundle of warm blankets and fluffed pillows. He was home.

He sat up in the large bed and looked around the empty room. Where was Dallon? Why wasn't he snuggled under him like he usually was when he woke up?

He kicked his legs off the side of the bed and stood up. Vertigo spun his head in a violent circle, but only for a second. He closed his eyes against the weak sensation. When he opened them again, it was a tad bit better.

Walking towards the door, he came face to face with the long mirror hanging on the wall. Damn, he looked worse than he usually did.

His face was pale. Like it'd been drained of all the blood that was supposed to be there. His eyes were still red. The bags under them were black though. The rim of his nostrils were a bright pink. And his lips were white and dry. He looked pretty decent considering the night he'd had actually.

Dallon had clearly dressed and bathed him in his frantic state. He no longer smelled of cheap strippers and stale cigars. He smelled like Dove soap and strawberry shampoo.

He lifted his arms to pull back the sleeve of the shirt that was too long for his arms. He didn't bother to fold up the long pajama pants dragging at his feet. He loved wearing Dallon's clothes. He was only a little taller but he bought his clothes a lot bigger.

Brendon buried his nose into the neckline of the shirt. He slid his sock covered feet against the carpet as he made his way to the kitchen. He could already smell the food Dallon was cooking.

"Good morning, sleepy head." Dallon called over his shoulder from the stove.

He flipped a pancake into the plate next to him. Continuing to dance and shimmy to the oldie tune playing from his phone. He hummed every other line of the song because Dallon had a hard time remember full song lyrics.

Brendon sat himself down on the stool. He placed his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. Just watching his boyfriend dance around wearing nothing but low riding pajama bottoms.

"I'm making pancakes." Dallon informed him when he didn't get a greeting back. He looked over his shoulder again. "Can you eat?"

The rumble of his empty stomach answered the question for him. But he still spoke in case Dallon didn't get the hint.

"Yes."

"Good!" He spun completely around with a plate full of pancakes in his hand. He sat the hot food in front of Brendon. Drowning it in syrup before placing the fork and knife beside the plate. "Eat up."

He stabbed the fork into the top of the stack. Using the knife to cut the corners of it. Dallon sat across from him. Just watching him as he sipped his steaming cup of coffee.

It would have been weird if Brendon weren't so used to it. He brought the fork up to his mouth. Chewing slowly. Tasting out the food. When he decided that it tasted good enough, he began eating quicker. Stuffing his starving body with mouthfuls.

"Is it good?" Dallon smiled, standing up and walking to the fridge.

"Yeah." Some of the already chewed food fell from his mouth when he spoke.

"When you're all done with that, we're going to get going, okay?" He placed a glass of orange juice on the table.

Brendon finished chewing the food in his mouth. He lifted the cup of juice to help with the swallowing process. When his mouth was void of all pancake remains, he frowned.

"Get going where?"

"To the rehabilitation center."

Brendon's eyes widened in fear. "No. I-I don't want to go there. I'll get better. I am better."

Dallon's eyebrows lowered sadly. "You promised you would go, Bren. I can't be with you like this. If you don't get help, I have to leave."

"Can't you just help me?"

"I can't." He admitted. "I don't know how."

"So you're getting rid of me?"

Brendon pushed the plate and glass away from him. He crossed his arms over his chest. Staring daggers into the marble design of the table top.

Dallon walked around the table. His long arms wrapping around Brendon's entire frame. He rested his chin in his newly washed hair.

"I'm not getting rid of you. I'd never get rid of you. You're my baby." He rocked him in his arms. "Rehab won't take long. Just a couple of weeks and you'll be better."

"Just a couple?"

"One month tops. It's the best center in the state. They promise fast results."

"And then we can stay together?"

"Of course." He kissed his head. "I'll even accept that marriage proposal."

Brendon exhaled loudly. "Okay. I'll go."

"Baby, I'm so proud of you!" Dallon spun him around in the chair. He leaned down to press his lips against Brendon's.