amer-doux l'amour • brallon [✔]

Chapter Three- These Tables are Numbered...

Brendon fidgeted with tie in the mirror, raising one eyebrow out of quirkiness. Spencer had been invited to a very formal party and Urie was his plus one. Brendon complied happily seeing as he'd be getting free food and a calm distraction from his.... smoking probelm.
Brendon took up a comb, brushing stray hairs in place in his precisely done quiff.
Once he was satisfied he trailed off into his bedroom, searching through his several dress jackets of different colors, finally settling on a deep green slightly silky looking one.
"Brendon are you ready?" Spencer called from the living room, groaning as Brendon replied with an 'almost'. "Jesus Christ, you take longer than my ex girlfriend"
"Well I'm sorry, Mister Impatient-Pants that I care about looking nice." Brendon called back in a retort, finally walking out of the bathroom.
"Finally. Now let's get out of here, we're already going to be late." Spencer climbed off of the couch, making his way to the front door and hurrying out, Brendon rushing behind him to catch up.

>>>>>

The pair took the elevator of a luxurious apartment building on The Strip up to a penthouse on the top floor. "Thanks for coming with me, Bren." Spencer muttered quietly.
Brendon nodded in return, walking slightly behind and to the side of Smith.

Once the two had been seated, and each served a glass of champagne, Spencer began small talk with the people at their table, meanwhile Brendon was left to himself as he studied the face of each party-goer.
He got up from his seat, strolling over to the small table with finger foods and more glasses of 'fancy' alcohol.
Brendon picked up a parmesan toast, taking a bite of it and nearly choking on it as he rushed away from the table and back to Spencer.
"And so when she-" "Spencer." Brendon interrupted the conversation in a whisper yell.
"What is it Brendon? Something wrong?" Spencer asked.
"Can we go now? Like, right now..." Brendon looked over his shoulder. "What? No. We just got here." Spencer looked at Urie wide-eyed.
"Shit." Brendon hissed, quickly hiding behind a plant.
"Brendon, what the fu-" Spencer was interrupted by a tall gentleman, "I don't believe we've met, I'm Dallon Weekes." He held out a hand to Spencer and the two shook hands, "Spencer Smith. And Weekes eh? Are you related to the party host at all then?"
Dallon nodded, "He's my uncle."
"Then it makes sense why you're here. It was good meeting you, Dallon." Spencer returned to his table conversation.
Brendon snuck out from behind the plant once Dallon was out of sight and back over to the table with the refreshments.
He picked up another parmesan toast, but just before he had the chance to place it in his mouth, there was a light tap on his shoulder. Brendon turned around, dropping his parmesan toast.
"Fancy seeing you here." Dallon hummed, folding his arms. Brendon stuttered for a second, backing into the table. "You too..."
"Who are you here with?" Dallon glanced around the room before fixating his sights on Brendon.
"Spencer Smith." Brendon quietly remarked.
"He seems nice." Dallon smiled
and Urie nodded. "You're quiet. What happened to your usual smart-aleck demeanor?" Dallon tilted his head slightly.
"Well I'm talking to the guy I got aquaintened like three weeks ago. So I don't know what you want me to say." Brendon furrowed his eyebrows.
"Fair point." Dallon acknowledged.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going." Brendon smugly announced.

>>>>>

Dallon pressed Brendon up onto the supply closest wall,
Brendon hands were entangled in Dallon's hair as he wrapped his bare legs around him.
Dallon brought Brendon into a short kiss,
setting him down.
"Let's do it again sometime, hm?"
Before Dallon could speak, Brendon had exited the closet, leaving Weekes tired, sweaty and out of breath.

"I'm the new cancer never looked better, you can't stand it."

A/N- parmesan toast. That is all. Good day.