There wasn't much else to do here in Germany.
So Brendon and I decided to go home. He slept during the whole flight and I hated that things were going to go back to normal after this.
Brendon would have to go back to his boyfriend and I'd go back to working and being alone. And probably visiting Jon at the cafe. Not as often anymore, though. I hope Brendon and I keep in touch. But I'm not so sure that's a good idea anymore, if he wants to stay with Dallon.
Dallon doesn't care for me, that's obvious. He won't like Brendon hanging out with me or talking to me. So Brendon will stop talking to me and we won't hangout. Maybe it's better to just give up and let him go back to Dallon. I'm sure I can get over him. We aren't in a relationship anyway.
We just got into my loft. It feels good to be home.
"You can stay if you want." I hung my keys on the key holder and took my bags to my room. Brendon was still standing in the kitchen when I came back out.
"I'd love to, but I'm going to head home. Talk to Dallon about some things. But I'll text you." He smiled.
"Okay." I kept a good distance between us, not wanting to impose or anything.
"Thanks again. For everything."
"Don't mention it." Brendon stepped forward, closing the gap and wrapping me in a hug.
"I'll see you later." He kissed my cheek, softer this time, and turned around and left me alone in my loft.
I need a drink.
-
"I don't know what to tell you, man." Jon took a huge swig of his beer, emptying the glass and setting it on the counter. "You should have known better."
"Yeah, I know." I sighed. "But he keeps saying that this guy is an ass and he doesn't do shit for him. So, maybe I have a chance. Who knows." I downed the rest of my whiskey, slamming the glass down.
"But if you don't, you'll fall into another depression and blame everyone for everything. Like you did when that one guy played you."
"Brendon is nothing like him." I raised my hand at the bartender, signaling him to bring me a fourth glass of whiskey. "Chris just wanted my money. Brendon isn't like that."
"That you know of." Jon said, raising an eyebrow at me.
"I do know." I downed my fourth glass of whiskey and Jon and I called it a night. We headed back to my loft and Jon ended up passing out on the couch. I went to my room and stripped to nothing and passed out in bed.
-
"Ryan." I felt a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. "Ryan." The voice said a little louder. I opened my eyes and Brendon was sitting on my bed.
I hummed in response, closed my eyes again and pulled the blanket over my head.
"Who is that guy sleeping on the couch?" Wait. Why is Brendon in my house?
"How'd you get in here?" I asked, uncovering my head and looking at Brendon. He smiled.
"Well, a while ago, you told me the code to come up here. You don't remember texting me last night, asking me to come over at three so we can talk about me working for you?" I did?
"I don't remember." Is it really that late?
"Were you drunk last night?" Brendon asked.
"Not really. Just had a few glasses of Jack." Brendon hummed in response. "Could you do me a favor?"
