guy in a chiffon skirt《brallon》

Chapter 20

Dallon woke up to the sleeping face of the love of his life, like every morning since they'd gotten together. He never got tired of it; seeing Brendon with his large lips slightly parted as he breathed slowly, his eyes closed and his hair a mess.

He watched Brendon sleep, the smaller man obliviously dozing with one arm draped over Dallon's waist.

Dallon eventually decided he should make breakfast, because he was hungry and he could imagine that Brendon would be too, when he woke up. He gently slid himself out from Brendon's grasp, the shorter man's arm fell limply to the sheets as Dallon stood up and made his way quietly out of the bedroom. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, deciding on eggs and bacon with toast for breakfast.

He cooked the eggs in one pan, and the bacon in another. He put the toast in and grabbed the carton of orange juice from the fridge. He sat it on the counter as he grabbed cups from the top cabinet. He poured one cup, and just as he began to pour the second one, the toast popped up, scaring the shit out of him.

"Son of a..." he mumbled, as he splashed a large amount of orange juice on himself. He looked down to see the white tshirt he'd gone to bed in now decorated with pale orange. He sighed and poured the last cup before he sat the carton down and pulled his shirt off, dropping it to the floor to get later.

He pulled the toast out of the toaster and put butter on it, then took the eggs and bacon off of the oven and began to put them on two plates. He heard Brendon walking into the kitchen, his loud steps evident in the otherwise quiet house. Dallon didn't have the time to worry about the fact that he was half naked before Brendon was there, walking up behind Dallon and hugging him from the back, his arms snaking around Dallon's bare torso and the side of his face pressing into Dallon's back.

"You look hot." Brendon said, his voice deeper from having just woken up. Dallon couldn't help but smile as he finished putting their food onto their plates and put the pans into the sink. "Thank you." He said, turning around in Brendon's embrace and kissing the smaller man's forehead.

Brendon giggled and pulled back, going to sit at the kitchen table, where Dallon carried their plates. They ate and talked about random things, until Dallon asked something he'd never thought to ask until they'd gone to his family cookout.

"Bren, what about your family? You never talk about them."

Brendon's expression changed from the light, smiling face he usually wore around Dallon to something Dallon rarely, maybe even never, saw. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes dark, and his jaw set. His eyes held pain and anger, but mostly just sadness. Depression, sorrow... it made Dallon regret asking.

"My parents are dead. My siblings hate me, I don't even know where they live. Haven't talked to them in years." Brendon said bluntly.

Dallon was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say; he didn't want to ask what happened, because he could tell it would only make Brendon more upset.

"I know you want to know." Brendon said. "I'll tell you what happened."