"Dude, just ask him," Spencer said.
"But what if he says no?" I asked.
"Bden, it's Dallon, the man you've been in a band with for about three years now. He's going to say yes," he said, putting his hands on his hips.
"You're right," I sighed.
"Why are you having such a hard time about this? It's just a simple question," Spencer chuckled.
"I-I - it's nothing," I said.
"Whatever you say, man. I gotta go. Let me know how it all works out!" Spencer said, grabbing his jacket.
"I will. Thanks man," I hugged him, then he walked out the door.
He's right, after all. Why can't I just go ahead and ask Dal? It is a simple question - probably one of the simplest in the book. But no, I've got to fight internally with myself for days before I can actually ask him. I'm pathetic, I swear to god. And there's no way I can tell Spencer why I can't just ask him. He knows I'm gay, but he doesn't know I'm in love with Dallon Weekes. God, I love the way his name rolls off my tongue. I mean, look at the guy: he's tall, has great hair, his dressing style is superb, his taste in music is flawless, and he's just as passionate about this band as I am. I see absolutely no flaws in him whatsoever. So, you know what?
I'm going to ask him.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket and dialed Dallon's number, "Hey man!"
"Bden! Hey!" he answered. "What's up, man?"
"You busy right now?" I asked.
"Actually, no," he chuckled a bit.
"Wanna meet at Ricky's Pizza Place for the usual?" I asked him.
"Sounds good to me! Meet you there at three?" he asked.
"Sure," I smiled, even though he couldn't see me. "See you then, Dal!"
"See ya, man," he said, then hung up.
With that accomplished, I've now got fifteen minutes to get ready. I hurried to my closet in my room and walked inside. I flicked the light on and just stood there. My god, I have a lot of clothes. As I looked through my shirts, I finally decided that I'd change into a nice black button-down shirt. After that, I turned to my pants. I decided on my red skinny jeans for a little pop of color. That, and I knew my ass looked fantastic in them.
With my clothes in hand, I rushed to bathroom and didn't even bother closing the door. I quickly got changed and did my hair. Boy, did my hair hate me today. It wasn't cooperating, so I threw on a beanie instead. I have to admit, I can totally rock a beanie. As I finished, it was about two fifty. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing it only took my five minutes to get there, so I'd be early.
I ran out of the bathroom and grabbed my keys from the counter in the kitchen. After that, I rushed out the door and to my vehicle. I hopped in, turned the radio on, then drove off. As I pulled away from the curb, what song other than Miss Jackson comes on the radio? I felt pretty accomplished. I'd definitely have to tell Dal about this.
I finally pulled up to the pizza place, then parked. As I got out and locked my vehicle, Dallon pulled up behind me and honked his horn, which scared the living crap out of me.
"You're an asshole!" I laughed as I hit him.
"Then I guess I'm an asshole wearing the same shirt as you, asshole," he smirked.
I looked down and we were, indeed, wearing the same shirt. We started laughing, then walked into the pizza place. The owner, Ricky - hard to guess, right? - greeted us and brought us to a booth. We were one of his regulars, so we were good friends. He brought us our drinks, then we ordered after a little while of talking.
"God, I love this place," Dallon chuckled as he say back in the booth.
"Dude, me too. Nothing beats Ricky's pizza. It's the best in town," I said.
"I heard that!" Ricky shouted from the bar.
"It's true!" Dallon and I shouted back as we laughed.
"Anyway, so guess what I heard on the way here?" I asked.
"Mmmm," he swallowed a sip of his drink. "Miss Jackson?"
"Yes!" I laughed. "How'd you know?"
"Were you listening to ninety-two-nine again?" he asked.
"Yeah," I laughed. "I assume you were too?"
"Always am," he laughed.
After a little while more of the two of us talking, Ricky brought us our pizzas. We thanked him, covered the pizzas in Parmesan, then dove in, both of us letting out a satisfactory moan - which sounded wrong, so we continued to laugh and then choke on our pizza.
"Can I like marry this pizza, please?!" I asked.
"Is that even legal?" Dallon asked, chucking a little.
"If it isn't here, I'll move somewhere where it is," I said.
"Alright, Brendon," he laughed. "Damn, I am full."
"Me too," I said, pushing my pizza away from me.
"But I will never not love this pizza," Dallon said.
"Same," I smiled. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Always," he said.
"Are you busy on Saturday?" I asked.
"Umm," he thought for a second. "I don't think so. Why?"
"My parents are throwing me a stupid birthday party," I chucked. "and I was wondering if you wanted to come?"
"Bren, I'd love to," he smiled.
YOU ARE READING
Love, Selfish Love (Brallon Mpreg) (SLOW Updates)
FanfictionBrendon Urie. His brother. Dallon Weekes. Of course, Brendon and Dallon have always been the best of friends, maybe even a little more at times, but what will happen when Dallon seems to be falling for Brendon's brother? Will Brendon and Dallon rem...