What Doesn't Kill You (Sequel to Your Secrets Safe With Me (Brallon))

Trapdoor

(a/n: why does anyone read this anymore?)

The funeral planner had left a couple hours ago, after I was forced to pick out wood for a coffin and choose a place to hold the funeral. Dallon and I never went to church, and considering the circumstances I didn't know a church that would want to hold it. Lucienda informed us that many people prefer a graveside memorial in which family members and close friends speak about the deceased. 

In the end we had set a date, picked a burial site, and had begun to put together a guest list. Hannah invited her boyfriend of three years and I invited the band and all of our friends from high school, many them I will not have seen since Prom, that night that I never spoke of didn't seem so terrible anymore.

Now I lay awake in Ryan's guest bedroom, too scared to fall asleep for Dallon was there to haunt me. The bed was cold, there was no warmth besides me to comfort me and remind me that there is good in this world. I felt nothing now, I was so empty inside with not even a match to start a fire. There was no feeling to be felt anymore, my world was just a grey blur.

"Bren?" Ryan whispered quietly, coming to do his habitual check on me.

I rolled over so I could see his face.

"You were crying, are you alright?" He came over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"C-can you lay with me again? I can't sleep." I stuttered.

"Sure bud." He sunk down on the mattress and I scooted over to make room for him.

I don't know what came over me, but I rolled over on top of the older and connected my lips with his. He kissed back and laced his hand in my hair, I ran my hands up under his shirt and ran my cold hands over his warm body. Disconnecting our lips, I moved down to his neck and begin kissing and nibbling until I found a spot that made him squirm and moan. I sucked on that spot until there was a satisfying purple mark just below his jaw bone.

I tugged at the hem of his black t-shirt before slipping off over his head and admiring his naked stomach. There were marks of past mistakes, but that made him even more beautiful. Suddenly a need grew inside of me, a need to feel something, a need to feel the lust and passion I had felt before. I allowed the older to pull the oversized t-shirt from my frail body.

"Oh Bren" He muttered when he saw the way my ribs poked out.

Pressing my lips to his, I distracted him from my body. Without pulling away, I messed with the button of his skinny jeans. We had to break for him to help me pull the tight pants down over his growing erection. Ryan paused to grab lube and a condom from the bedside drawer, before moving on to jerk the baggy pajama pants from my skinny frame.

"You have this in your guest bedroom?" I giggled a little at his precautionary measures.

"I like to make sure my guest are well protected." He smiled back, flipping me onto my back and kissing down my stomach.

When he got to between my hips, he used his teeth to pull my boxer shorts off and expose my dick. I pushed him back over so I was straddling his waist, I wanted to run this show. I took the condom from the side table and used my teeth to rip it open. Rolling it on slowly, watching him squirm and buck his hips against my hands. Teasingly slow, I rubbed lube onto his large dick, making sure I dragged out the entire process. I didn't bother with my stretching, I wanted to feel something, to feel pain.

Lining myself up with him, I slowly sunk down onto him stopping to allow myself to adjust to his size. He wasn't as big as Dallon but his cock was still a decent size. Suddenly, I remembered my loving husband, his eyes, his laugh, his smile, him. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I couldn't help but feel like I was betraying him.

I slid off of Ryan and went over to the dresser, sliding on the clothes Hannah brought for me. Clothes that fit perfectly a couple months seemed to hang off of me like a sheet off of a kid dressed like ghost for Halloween. I pulled on my old leather jacket, ignoring the lilac hoodie folded neatly on the dresser.

As fast as I could, I fled the room and ran out the door and down the stairs of the apartment building. I ran as fast as I could, as if the further away I ran the further away my problems were. It wasn't till I was a couple streets over that I realized I had no idea where I was. Ryan lived further out of the city that Dallon and I had, I had no idea where I was. Still though, I kept walking, hoping I would see something familiar. 

Soon, I saw a recognizable sight and before I could stop myself I found that I was in the cafe where Dallon and I had our first date. Everything was the same, the dark tan walls, the catchy pop music that hummed quietly over the sound of soft chatter, but yet so much had changed. Cautiously, as if the barista was going to jump out and attack me, I approached the counter and ordered a hot chocolate. It even tasted the same, I sipped quietly as I sat in the corner near the window. 

I missed him so much it hurt. I missed waking up at three am to hold him as he recovered from a dream. I missed curling into him in our bunk on the tour bus. I missed his giggle, his smile, his laugh, his eyes. There was so much to love about Dallon James Weekes and there was way more to miss. What I wouldn't give for one more kiss, or even just one last look at his crystal eyes. Just as I finished my drink, I spotted Ryan walking in. He came straight over to me, he must've noticed me in the window. 

"Brendon, you had me worried sick. You could've been hit by a car or jumped off a bridge for all I knew." Ryan scolded as I looked at his large brown eyes.

"I wish I had." I muttered, getting up to throw my empty cup in the trash (starryquinn).

"Bren, I didn't mean that. Just come home and we can start over." Ryan shrugged, suddenly appearing smaller and weaker.

"Ok" I mumbled walking with him out of the cafe that hadn't even noticed us.

As we walked I habitually slid my hand into Ryan's, he didn't say anything, but after a while I pulled my hand away. I wasn't ready to be over him, no matter how empty I felt and how much I wanted to feel, I couldn't love again, not ever.

Dallon Weekes died and so did my ability to love again.