Goodnight Socialite ☆ Brallon

A Night That Time Forgot

"This is alright?" Dallon asked unsurely, turning into the bathroom where Brendon was running a comb through his hair.

Brendon turned to him only after lingering for a moment, because Brendon undoubtedly has a hard time looking away from a mirror.

He knew it was alright at first glance, but he took his time in looking Dallon over with a smirk.

"Alright is one way to put it," He replied eventually as he walked closer. "Why do you look better in my clothes than I do?"

Dallon laughed and rolled his eyes, ignoring the last comment.

"I just mean, like- I've never been to an award show, obviously, so I'm not familiar with the dress code, you know?"

Brendon sighed then as he stopped in front of him, carefully straightening out his collar.

"You look absolutely debonair, Mr. Weekes." He reassured him in an exaggerated posh accent before letting go and returning to his spot in front of the mirror.

"I just cant believe my pants fit you. Your legs are so fucking long." He continued before Dallon could respond, filling the room with fumes from some expensive product that was probably to thank for his eternally flawless hair.

"They're a little short." Dallon said with a finger pointed down at his partially exposed ankles. "Because you're short."

"I am not, Dallon. I'm average. You're tall." Brendon argued, pushing past him through the door once he'd spent a sufficient amount of time on his hair (which rounded out to about twenty minutes).

"Same thing?" Dallon countered once he caught up.

"Actually, no. Did you know the average height for an adult male is 5'10"?" Brendon glanced back, still walking out toward the kitchen.

"You're shorter than that," Dallon faltered.

He couldn't really argue against that fact.

"By an inch." Brendon said, smirking at how obviously wrong Dallon was about this. "But it's okay. Tall is good."

Dallon's fake scowl turned back into a smile when Brendon leaned up like he was going to kiss him, then suddenly stopped and sighed, pulling his phone out of his back pocket when it chimed.

"Shit, Spence is here." He announced, going back to scrambling to gather his things.

"Do you know how many times Spencer has interrupted when were having a moment?" Dallon noticed. "Because it's been a lot of times.

"He means well." Brendon reassured him as Dallon watched him pace.

Phone, wallet, sunglasses-

"Sunglasses?" He questioned with an eyebrow raised.

Brendon nodded and gave him this weird look, like it was strange that he asked. It was getting later; it would probably be dark by the time they arrived. Dallon didn't see why Brendon would need sunglasses. But he figured it was just a celebrity thing, or a Brendon thing, perhaps, so he didn't question it any further.