Part Eleven

Brendon wasn't sure when Pete and Dallon had gotten each other's numbers, but they had. He had learned the two had corresponded Monday night and made a plan not to let Brendon out of their sight. It had become obvious that the school facility wasn't going to stop Ryan and his bullying ways. So Brendon would have to learn to live with his new self-proclaimed bodyguards.

Not that he needed them. Because on Tuesday, Ryan hadn't shown up to school. Brendon wanted to think it was because of Ryan's beating him up, but knew better than that. The punk kid was probably still too mortified to show his face.

So Tuesday went by relatively easily. Dallon has driven Brendon to school, he had met up with Pete in the hall, the two ate lunch with Patrick like normal. Brendon had actually had a pretty good day.

After school, Dallon has decided to ditch soccer practice to go get milkshakes with Brendon and Pete. Brendon had tried to protest, but Dallon assured him missing one practice wasn't a big deal.

So the three sat in their local Steak 'n Shake in what Pete called an 'official anti-straight guy agenda meeting'.

"You know guys, I'm starting to feel like a third wheel," Pete said. He was sitting across from Dallon who had Brendon seated on his lap. Every so often he'd start kissing over Brendon's neck, usually while Pete was in the middle of a long thought.

"We're listening, I swear," Brendon said, unable to suppress a little chuckle. He draped his arm around Dallon's neck to get him to pay attention.

"Keep talking, Wentz," Dallon prompted.

Pete huffed, "As I was saying-"

"Okay, who had the peanut butter shake?" The waitress walked up, interrupting Pete once again.

He sighed in defeat, "Me."

She handed it to him, "And here's the Oreo," Shs set it in front of the other boys. "Enjoy."

"You two are sharing a milkshake?" Pete questioned. "Could you be anymore of a cheesy rom com?"

"No more than you're the weird best friend," Brendon said with a grin.

"At least the weird best friend usually hooks up with the hot girl at the end of the movie," Pete scoffed.

"You're gay though," Dallon said, causing Brendon to snort a laugh.

"I want to disband this meeting," Pete frowned and aggressively took a sip of his milkshake.

"Oh come on, Pete, we only tease because we care," Brendon said as he fed Dallon the cherry off the top of their shake.

"Yeah, yeah," Pete waved a dismissive hand. "Let me get back to what I was saying before you two start going at it on the floor." He said, noting that Dallon was now feeding Brendon whipped cream off his finger.

"Please, proceed," Dallon said, motioning with his hand that wasn't in Brendon's mouth.

"I think we need more authoritative voices for our cause," Pete said. Brendon bit back a remark about authoritative being a big word for Pete.

"Like who?" Dallon questioned, moving his arms back around Brendon's waist and sharing sips of milkshake.

"I don't know, I can't think of everything here!" He cried. "Parents! What about parents? Beebo?"

Brendon lifted his head, "Huh?"

"What if you told your parents about Ryan beating you up? Then they could complain to the school and it wouldn't just be your word against Sucker's," Pete explained.

"Oh," Brendon didn't want to bring his parents into the conversation. He knew they wouldn't care. If anything, they'd probably say getting beaten up was going to make him tougher or some shit like that. "They don't know I'm gay. If I bring up what happened, they might question things, you know?"

"You don't have to mention that," Pete pressed. "Kids beat up kids for no reason. Just say he's a bully who won't leave you alone."

"I just don't think it's a good idea."

"Come on, B-"

"I said no!" Brendon snapped at him. "Drop it, okay? We're not going to my parents."

Pete blinked in surprise at his outburst, but quickly brushed it off, "Okay, fine, we'll think of someone else."

Brendon felt Dallon squeeze him a little tighter and looked over at the boy. His expression read both confusion and concern and silently asked the 'are you okay' question. Brendon just turned away from him to sip on his milkshake. Of all people, he didn't want Dallon to know about his home life. He didn't want to be pitied or given that sympathetic look. And he didn't want Dallon to feel guilty because it wasn't something he could fix. It wasn't something anyone could fix.

Pete continued to spew ideas about getting the community involved. He discussed maybe even talking to Miss Knipe to back them up in a school setting, but the only thing wrong with those ideas involved the risk of outing them all to the entire student body. That was, if Ryan hadn't spread the word already himself.

Brendon was starting to wonder if he even cared anymore. Now that Ryan definitely knew he and Dallon were a couple, the chance other people knew was pretty high, anyway. And what were those people going to do? Try and run him out like they did Jon Walker? Send him death threats? Continue to beat him up? That all seemed bearable when he had his own gang of people willing to protect him. But what about Dallon? How would he feel? He somewhat thought Dallon wouldn't care considering how he had pulled Brendon onto his lap when they sat and was publicly showing him affection. But he also worried the constant beating of the outsiders would become too much strain on them. Maybe staying in their own bubble away from prying and disapproving eyes would be the best course of action. At least until they could get out of their hellhole of a high school.

"Maybe we shouldn't rock the boat," Brendon suddenly said. "Maybe we should deal with whatever blows come and keep our heads down?"

"What?" Pete cried. "B, we're in the middle of a social injustice here! The school is being run by a dictating tyrant! We have evidence that he's corrupt! If we don't use it, he's just going to continue to let kids like us get bullied."

Brendon bit his lip, feeling guilty. He thought about Patrick being too afraid to come out or Tyler Joseph leaving to be home-schooled. He turned to Dallon, "What do you think?"

Dallon sighed, "Someone should say something about Ryan and his friends not getting suspended and what he did to you. But coming from us... it's not going to make a difference."

"Exactly!" Pete cried.

"But I don't know who would speak on our behalf," Dallon continued. "No one other than some of the students even saw the fight."

"The other kids during lunch! Patrick was there!" Pete said. "He saw what happened, he wasn't involved. Maybe I can convince him to say something?"

"There you go," Dallon smiled. "I would do that."

Pete nodded again, "I can do that... I hope."

"Um, and while we're on the topic of Patrick," Brendon said. He pointed across the restaurant at the door. Patrick Stump and a few of his friends had just walked in.

Pete's eyes widened, "Woah. Did we summon him here with our minds?"

"No, we didn't," Dallon said. He raised his hand, trying to get Patrick's attention. The nerdy kid caught sight of them. Brendon could've sworn he saw him blush a bit.

Pete was ushering him over now as well and Patrick scurried over as his friends went to find a booth, "Uh, hey guys." He seemed to take considerable notice in how Brendon and Dallon were sitting.

Pete scooted over in the booth to make room, "Hey, Patrick, can you sit? We need to talk to you."

Patrick tentatively sat, "I'm here with some people, so I can't talk long."

"We need your help," Dallon said. "You know the fight that happened last Friday?"

Patrick's eyes momentarily shifted between Dallon and Brendon, "Yes, I remember."

"And you know that Josh Dun was involved and he was suspended," Dallon continued. Patrick nodded.

"Well, Ryan and his gang pals weren't," He huffed a bit. "We were hoping to you mention something about that to Principal Smucker."

Patrick's eyes widened incredulously, "Me?"

"You were a witness to it," Pete said.

"So were you!"

Brendon could tell how uncomfortable Patrick seemed as they discussed this, "Patrick, look. Ryan isn't who you think he is. He... he kissed me in the locker room on Monday."

Patrick's eyes somehow managed to get even wider, "He... huh?"

"Yeah," Brendon said, rolling his eyes as if he still couldn't believe it himself. He felt Dallon's grip on him tighten ever so slightly. "And he got away with that, too. He bullies kids like him as some sick way to repress himself, I guess. And we want it to stop."

Patrick looked over them all for a long moment before letting his eyes land on his own lap. Brendon couldn't see his hands, but knew he was twiddling his thumbs anxiously. He sighed slowly, "I'm sorry. I just... I can't."

"Come on, Patty, please!" Pete begged.

"I can't," He said again. "I'm sorry."

The three boys watched in defeat as he got up and left their table. Brendon slumped back into Dallon, feeling all hope go down the drain.

"Well," Pete sighed. "Now what?"

They hadn't come up with any alternative plans. Pete eventually had to leave to get home so Dallon drove him and Brendon back to their respective houses. When Dallon dropped Brendon off, he'd given him a long kiss and promised they'd figure something out. Brendon wanted to believe it, but at that moment, it seemed the bullies would always win.

The rest of Brendon's evening had been relatively quiet. His dad had been out God knows where and his mother was sulking around the house as usual. Brendon had finished all his homework and thought he might actually get to sleep early when he suddenly heard pounding feet downstairs.

"Brendon!" His father roared at him. Brendon's whole body tensed. His first instinct in that moment was to hide, but he knew that would only make matters worse. Instead, he scurried to the stairs and anxiously climbed down them. When he reached the bottom, his dad roughly grabbed him by the shoulder, causing Brendon to flinch violently. He was marched into their kitchen.

"What the hell is this?" He yelled, alcohol coming off his breath. He was referring to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. "You want us to live in filth? The whore won't clean it up - are you going to be worthless too?"

Brendon felt tears sting his eyes. He hadn't been home much and hadn't done any chores recently. He felt like an idiot.

"I-I'll clean it up," He said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Worthless piece of shit," His dad muttered. "Do you think you get to have a life outside of us?"

Brendon could feel the tears falling now. Of course, his mother was nowhere to be seen. She was probably happy she wasn't the one being yelled at.

His dad shoved him roughly towards the sink and stormed around the kitchen, looking for something. Probably more to drink. Brendon tried not to sniffle as he half-heartedly started rinsing off dishes. He flinched every time his dad passed him.

He wished he wasn't so weak. He wished he could stand up for himself and attack his dad like he'd attacked Ryan. Knock some sense into him. But it was different. This was his family, someone who was supposed to love him, not someone who should make him feel like shit.

Brendon finished the dishes much faster once his father had vacated the kitchen to go sit on the back porch and down another beer. If his father continued to drink, Brendon didn't want to stay in the house. Actually, he didn't want to stay in the house, anyway.

He made sure his dad wasn't looking as he went to grab his jacket and backpack from the hook by the door. He pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew wouldn't yell at him or make him feel like a waste of space.

It was one of the chillier spring nights, which made him glad he'd grabbed a coat. He pulled it on while the dial tone rung in his ear.

"Hello?" Came Dallon's voice from the other end. He sounded slightly confused and a little concerned.

"H-hey, Dal," Brendon spoke softly as he headed down the broken sidewalk. "Can you meet me at the soccer field?"

"What's wrong, B?" Dallon asked, but Brendon could already hear him shuffling around and grabbing his keys.

"I just need to be with you," Brendon said, trying to hold back a wave of emotion that threatened to erupt again.

Dallon was silent for a moment, "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

"See you soon," Brendon said and then hung up just as his tears started to fall again. He didn't want to cry to Dallon over the phone. He didn't want to cry at all. But he did the whole walk to the soccer field.

Dallon arrived not long after he did. Brendon saw the headlights of his car from down the block and stopped to wait on the sidewalk. He was blinded by the light and couldn't see Dallon until the tall boy's arms were around him.

Brendon immediately buried his face in Dallon's chest. He told himself he wouldn't cry again, but he couldn't help it. Dallon was rubbing soothing circles into his back, trying to relax him. But Brendon cried for another good few minutes before pulling away to wipe his eyes.

"What happened, baby?" Dallon asked gently, not letting Brendon move too far from him. "Talk to me."

Brendon sniffled a bit, "It's a long story."

"I've got all the time in the world," Dallon said.

Brendon took a deep breath. He knew he needed to come clean with Dallon, but that didn't make it any less hard. He took the tall boy's hand and drug him out to the middle of the soccer field, plopping them both down in the grass. From there, he sort of just launched into everything.

He told Dallon about how his mom cheated on his dad a few years ago. How they wanted to get divorced but when it came to custody and money claims, it had been easier not to. Now they were practically forced under one roof, his dad developing a drinking problem, his mom either working to support them or out with some new guy every weekend. He told Dallon about how his parents stopped caring about him nearly altogether. How his dad gets abusive and how his mom isn't much better. He came clean about the cut on his arm being caused by a glass bottle his dad threw and the words that were yelled at him. Now he dreads going home everyday, he dreads going to school and running into Ryan. Somewhere in the middle of his story, he had been pulled into Dallon's lap.

"And sometimes it just feels like too much," Brendon finished, trying really hard not to start sniffling again.

Dallon was silent for a few moments. He had his arms wrapped around Brendon and was rubbing his hand up and down the smaller boy's thighs. Brendon hadn't even realized he'd been shivering.

"I'm sorry, Bren," He said softly after a long while. "I had no idea."

Brendon sighed, "It's okay-"

"It's not okay!" Dallon interjected. "You shouldn't be treated like that by anyone! Not your parents, not Ryan Ross. You're..."

Brendon looked up at him when he trailed off, "I'm what?"

Dallon shifted himself so he could look Brendon in the eye, "You're incredible. You're so strong and funny. And you're the best damn skeeball player I know." Brendon chuckled a little at that. "You're a fucking angel."

Brendon wrapped his arms around Dallon and hugged him closer, "No, you're the angel. You showed up when I needed you the most."

Dallon kissed his head sweetly, "I'll always be here when you need me most."

Brendon leaned his head back so he could kiss Dallon's lips. It was sensual and slow, just what the two needed in that moment. Brendon felt like his dark world was suddenly shining with light again. Dallon had that effect on him. His angel.

"Did I mention," Dallon began when he pulled away. "You're also incredibly sexy. And adorable. I don't know how you're both, but you are."

Brendon flushed a bit, "Not as sexy as you, soccer star."

"I beg to differ," Dallon grinned. He rolled Brendon off his lap and into the grass, wanting to lean his body over the dark haired boy. Brendon let out a small yelp as he rolled onto his backpack, containing his camera. He pulled it out from under himself.

"What's that?" Dallon asked, grabbing Brendon's bag to open it and look in.

"Just my camera."

Dallon pulled out the little black camera, examining it for a moment. He lifted it up to his face and suddenly snapped a photo of Brendon.

"Hey!" Brendon cried as he was blinded by the flash.

Dallon looked at the picture of a wide eyed Brendon and laughed, "That's a keeper."

Brendon scoffed and snatched the camera away from him, "I'm the photographer here."

Dallon leaned back on grass, still chuckling. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching Brendon with an amused grin.

"I'm supposed to take pictures of the team tomorrow at the game," Brendon told him. A mischievous smirk spread across his face and he moved to straddle Dallon's thighs. "You're part of the team. And we are on the soccer field. So..." He snapped a picture of Dallon.

"Jesus!" Dallon cried, covering his eyes. Brendon chuckled and snapped another one. Dallon blindly reached for the camera, but Brendon leaned it away from him. He trailed his other hand downwards and ran it over Dallon's bulge, causing the other boy to flitch. Brendon smirked and snapped a picture of his crotch. He gasped when the camera was pulled away from him.

"You're naughty," Dallon tsked at him.

Brendon hummed, "Maybe. But not as naughty as you."

Dallon smirked and grabbed Brendon's hand, placing it back on his front, "You're right about that."

Brendon was into this. He squeezed Dallon gently and the taller boy let out a little grunt. He aimed the camera to snap a photo of Brendon doing that to him.

"God, you're hot, B," He told the smaller boy. He hooked a hand around the back of Brendon's neck to pull him down for a kiss.

Brendon accepted it happily and jumped when Dallon accidentally snapped another picture of them. The two laughed and laid together in the grass for a long while after that. It was blissful like they were the only two people to exist. They both secretly wished that moment could last forever.