"Bren?" I say softly.


"How am I going to tell my father that we're dating again?"

"Huh," He sighs. I roll over so we're facing each other. We both prop ourselves up by our elbows. "That's a good question."

"He's going to be pissed that I slept over." I say. Brendon doesn't respond. Instead, he kisses my forehead and coaxes a smile out of me. "But no matter how angry he is, you're worth it."

"Alex," Now he frowns. "That's kind of what made us break up in the first place."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Think about it. He was mad that you left with me to New York, then you were put in a spot where you had to choose me or him. It's happening again, just on a smaller scale. He's going to make you choose." Brendon explains. His eyes well up. "I can't lose you again."

"You're not going to lose me." I promise.

"I, I want you to fix this with him." He says and wipes his eyes, but tears start to fall anyways. "The few days I was without you were the worst of my life. I can't stand to go through that again. But your father will never truly accept us if you don't fix your relationship with him or completely cut him off." He breathing hitches. I cuddle up closer to him and we wrap our arms around each others torso's. "And I know you don't want to cut him out of your life. You proved that in New York. I get it now. But something has to change if we're going to make it together."

"Shh," I do my very best to comfort him. I kiss his neck and collar bone. His chin is resting on the top of my head and I'm tucked under it. "Relax, champ. We're not going to lose each other again. I swear. I'll do whatever it takes to keep us together."

"I can't even stand the thought of it, Alex." He starts to weep.

"Don't think of it, then, because it will never happen." I kiss him again. "You're mine, Brendon Grant Drayton. And I'm yours. It will always be that way."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

We just hold each other while he get's his sobs under control. I tighten my arms around him to make him feel more secure. His tears kill me.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He whispers. "I'm so lucky."

"I'm the lucky one, Bren." I pull away from his chest and slide up the bed enough to look him in the eye. His cheeks are wet and red. I wipe away the tears. "No more crying, okay? Everything is going to be fine."

"What are you going to tell him?" Brendon asks, turning the conversation back to it's original topic.

"The truth. That I love you."




"I don't know."

"My offer for you to move in still stands. Just in case he gets really angry."

"You're the best." I say and kiss his nose. "How do you think I should tell him?"

"I don't know."

We both sigh, and again, we are quiet.

"We could tell him together. And in public. He can't scream at us in public." Brendon points out.

"He can, though. Remember the air-port incident?"

"Oh yeah." He sighs.

"I can tell him over the phone, then we can meet with him somewhere to talk it all out. I have a lot of explaining to do." I remind him dreadfully. "He's going to be even more pissed over everything because I didn't even text him to tell him I wasn't coming home."

"Let's go get breakfast somewhere." He suggests. I nod.

"Good idea."

"Alex," Brendon pauses before continuing. "If he's hateful towards you..."

"He swore he's trying to fix things." I say. Brendon still looks doubtful. "Don't worry. It'll be okay."

He nods. I ask for my phone, and he grabs it off his nightstand for me, even though I know neither of us want to make the call. We both move so we are laying on our backs, shoulder to shoulder. I dial my Dad's number. My stomach knots, I squeeze Brendon's hand, then hit call.

Hello? My father's voice is cautious on the other line.

"Hi Dad." I say nervously. "What are you-"

Where the hell are you, Alexander? Even though he cusses, he's obviously on edge and just as nervous as I am.

"At Brendon's."

How do I know that? Last time you were there, you ran off to New York.

"I swear, I'm at his place." I promise. Dad wasn't wasting any time getting right to the point.

Why didn't you come home last night? He lets out a heavy sigh.

"I fell asleep in their living room." I lie smoothly. "I just woke up on the couch."

You're lying to me. I know damn well you didn't just fall asleep there.

"No, I'm telling the truth."

No, you're not.

"Dad," I sigh.

What makes you think that it's okay to lie to me? Damn it, son. You want us to stop fighting, but you don't want to put any effort forth!

"That's not so. I am too willing to put effort forth! It's just that, you know, last night was stressful." I mumble the last sentence. Even I know that's a shit excuse.

Come home, Alexander. We have to talk.

"Actually, Brendon and I want to speak with you together. We want to know if you are willing to go out to breakfast with us." I explain.

You and Brendon want to go out to breakfast with me?

"Yeah. Me and Brendon." I take a deep breath before telling him the big news. "We're dating again."

Silence. Dead air. Nothing.

"Hello? Are you there?"

I should have known. I should have known that's why you never came home. He grumbles, then I hear him suck in gust of air. You slept with him, didn't you?

"Dad! That's none of your damn business!" I spit out, then bite my tongue. I can't lose my temper. I refuse to.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Silence again.

"I'm not talking about my sex life with you, but I do want all three of us to speak like civil adults." I say as coolly as I can. "We want to meet with you to talk about this. Please, just meet with us."

Still quiet.

Okay. He finally agrees. Give me the time and place. But I refuse to talk to you if you're going to scream and yell and act like a fool.

"I have the same conditions for you."

And Brendon better be respectful.

"He will. Don't worry." I promise.

We finally work out all the details of where we'll meet, when, and what conditions will cause one of us to leave. The knot in my gut is untying as we near the end of the conversation.

Oh, and Alexander?


If he makes you cry again, I swear to god I'll beat the shit out of him.


Brendon and I proudly hold hands as we walk into the little restaurant we are meeting my father. It's busy, and we're stuck waiting for a table. We don't say anything, but I know even he's nervous. My stomach is in another knot. Brendon and I squeeze each others hands back and forth.

"I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." I say. I kiss Brendon's cheek and release his hand. Some people stare at us, but we ignore them.

"If we get the table before you come back, I'll just order a water for you."

"Don't forget to ask for a lemon wedge in it!" I remind. He gives me his beautiful half smile. I can't help but smile back. I'm one lucky guy.

The bathroom is simple. No stalls, just one toilet, one sink, a mirror and a light-duty wooden door separating this small room from the rest of the hotel. The lighting sucks. I do what I have to and wash and dry my hands.

I look in the mirror. My hair is sticking up in every direction. I comb my fingers through it in an attempt to calm it down. I sigh. It doesn't do much good. I wet my hands and try again. Now it's making a little progress. I cup my hands under the faucet and splash the water on my face. It's refreshing. I just watch my dripping face in the mirror and do my best to organize my thoughts and everything I want to say to my Dad. It's difficult.

I finally dry my face with a rough, brown paper towel and leave the room. Brendon isn't standing by the door anymore, so I scan the restaurant to see him sitting in a booth. My father is sitting across from him, his back to me. I walk forward and see Brendon's ashamed face. He hangs his head. As I get closer, I can hear them talking. Dad says something I can't make out over the noise of everyone else around us, but I can tell what Brendon's response is.

"I am so sorry. It will never happen again."

I pause for a moment and look at my father. What the hell did he say to him?

So, what do you think? What did Phillip say to Brendon? How do you think this meeting will go? Please review!