All Was Golden in the Sky

I never was one for lifting weights. It just was never my thing. After lifting my fifth box, I was starting to wish I had worked out more at the gym. But as I looked up at the house I was carrying it into, I decided the strain and eventual pain in my arms later would be worth it.

“Here’s some more kitchen stuff, Bren,” I said, squeezing past Bronx and Amelie where they were playing in the living room. Dallon’s son, Knox, seemed very uninterested in joining in with his sister and her friend, instead deciding to point and laugh at his dad as he tried assembling one of our bookshelves.

“How does this even work?” Dallon groaned, holding up one of the shelves and looking at me sadly. Breezy was sitting next to him, trying very hard to hide her smile behind her fingers. I shrugged at my exasperated friend and ducked into the kitchen where Brendon was busy putting away our dishes.

Brendon grinned and hurried forward, taking the box from my hands. His smile broke and he stumbled under the weight, staring at me incredulously. “Shit, Anne, what’s even in here?”

I shrugged. “My coffee mugs.” He continued to stare at me, and I stared back. “What? You knew getting into this that you were getting half of the Anthropologie catalogue.”

He just shook his head and waddled away, carefully resting the box on the counter. “Dear Lord, woman.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and went to help Pete and Meagan finish unloading their car, since they had been nice enough to trail after me and Brendon in the moving van and Dallon and Breezy in their car. Meagan looked like she was going to snap under the box she was carrying, and I rushed forward to take it from her.

“Phew. Thanks, Annie.” She smiled at me, and I grinned back. I really liked Meagan. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Ashlee and I got along okay, but with Meagan nothing was ever fake. She was always straight up, and I admired her for it. Not to mention she was gorgeous and not a prick about it, and made Pete happier than I’d ever seen. You gotta love a girl like that.

She looked up at the house. “First place together, huh?” She grinned over at Pete, who was making a pile of boxes on the sidewalk. “Moving in with that dork was one of the best things ever. It’s always great being able to wake up next to your best friend.”

Checking to make sure he wasn’t listening, she eased a little closer to me. “Just make sure to maintain a little mystery in the relationship, ya know? I love Pete, but it’s not exactly sexy hearing him fart all the time.”

This girl just kept making me like her more and more.

“Whatcha girls talking about?” Pete asked, walking up to us and peering over two boxes. I glanced at the labels—clothes. Of course, the lightest things.

Meagan popped a kiss on his cheek and giggled. “Nothing, babe. Now carry on, muscle man.”

Pete smirked and sent her a wink, trudging inside as Brendon poked his head out. “How many more boxes we got?” he asked, jogging over to us alongside Dallon. I could feel myself blush when Brendon wrapped an arm around my waist and pressed a kiss to my forehead. It felt good to be paid attention to in front of a gorgeous supermodel.

“Um, I think those three are the last ones,” I said, pointing to where Pete had left them on the curb.

“Sweet. We got ‘em, Meg. Why don’t you go make sure Pete doesn’t let Bronx try on Annie’s clothes?” Brendon suggested. Meagan laughed and scurried after her boyfriend.

Dallon took the other box out of my hands, giving me a quick wink. “I gotchu, girl,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and then heading back inside.

Brendon shifted us so we were looking at the house, his arm now securely wrapped around my shoulder. He sighed and pulled me a little closer in a side embrace.

“What’re you smiling at?” I teased, looking up at him.

His eyes flashed down to meet mine, and his secret smile grew even wider. “This is our house,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into my hair. “We have a house together, Annie!”

I giggled and wrapped my arms around his waist. “You’re a real sap sometimes, Mister Urie.”

He scoffed and pulled back to flick my nose. “Oh, you’re one to talk! Don’t think I didn’t hear you happily humming the whole ride over here. You’re just as stoked as I am.”

I shrugged, but I knew my grin gave me away. “All right, you caught me. Maybe I’m totally stoked for this whole ‘I-get-to-be-with-you-forever’ thing.” I leaned up and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek, but Brendon moved quickly enough so instead my lips met his.

“You know, I was thinking we should install some green shingles on the roof,” he said with a smirk. “Then you really will be my Anne of Greene Gables.” He had the goofiest look on his face, and I could tell he was really pleased with himself.

I pressed my lips against his again, not quite in a kiss, just enough for him to feel my smile. “I’m not going to be a Greene much longer, you know,” I reminded him. My stomach twisted when I felt his lips turn up against mine. I reached a hand up to caress his cheek, pleased to feel the dimples when he kissed me again.

“Yo! Urie and Urie-ette!” We pulled apart and saw Dallon standing in the doorway, a bemused expression on his face. “Get your slow asses in here so you can order us all pizza for helping. Amelie is starting to get sassy.”

From within the house we could hear a tiny voice saying, “YOU’RE adopted!” Which was quickly followed by Pete’s wounded laughter. Dallon looked back and shook his head sadly.

Brendon laughed and bent down to hoist up two of the boxes. “Your little girl is cold, man,” he said.

I shrugged and grabbed the other one. “Pete probably instigated, let’s be real.”

Dallon nodded and leapt forward, taking the box from my hands and smiling at my thanks. “Oh, he definitely did, but I think now Bronx is starting to say it, too.”

We walked into the hallway and sure enough, two little human voices were chanting in unison and Pete was sitting on the steps with his face in his hands. “Poor Pete,” I frowned, walking up and patting his head gently.

He looked up at me and pouted. “Please, feed the children.”

I laughed and tugged out my phone, catching Brendon’s eye. He looked like he was about to offer to pay, but then he smiled and shuffled away. I grinned and walked into the family room, where Breezy and Meagan sat on our new sofas with the kids all tumbling around them.

“Hey!” I called, and they all looked over at me. “Who wants pizza? It’s on me.”

--

“Hey, thanks for all your help today, man. It’s much appreciated.” Brendon shook Dallon’s hand, careful not to disturb the sleeping Knox held close in Dallon’s other arm. His little mouth was hanging open, and I couldn’t stop cooing over him when his eyelids started fluttering. Everyone just rolled their eyes at me.

“No problemo, man. You sure you don’t want more help rearranging the furniture where you want it?” Dallon asked, glancing around. At the moment, everything was spread out wherever we had managed to put it together. Most of the guys’ attention had been spent setting up the room we had designated Brendon’s music room, which now proudly contained all of his guitars and other musical equipment.

Brendon shrugged and then stretched his arms up in a yawn. I tried very hard not to notice the bit of skin that peeked from under his shirt, but that damn hip V of his was begging for me to stare. “Nah, we can get to it all later. The bed’s where it needs to be, so that’s good for now.”

Breezy tugged me into a quick hug. “I’m so glad I got to spend some time with you, Annie! I was so bummed when I couldn’t come to Nags Head. We’ll have to have a girl day soon.”

I grinned and hugged her back. “Definitely! It’ll be nice having girl time when it’s not on a tour bus with a lot of stinky boys.” Brendon and Dallon both feigned offense, but Breezy laughed.

Brendon closed the door behind the family as they left, still waving and offering their final goodbyes, as if we didn’t see them on a regular basis. Finally the last of our move-in party was gone, and I collapsed onto the sofa we had brought from Brendon’s apartment in exhaustion. “Oh my God,” I groaned, throwing my arm over my eyes. “Those children are exhausting.” I looked at all the boxes we had yet to unpack, and all the furniture that wasn’t where we wanted it yet. “Aw, fuck, so much work to do.”

Brendon ruffled my hair as he walked past me to a pile of boxes behind the couch. “Yeah, but we’ve got all week to get it done. It’ll be fun!”

I snorted. “You know you’re going to be spending the whole time in your music room, ya bum. I’ll be left to shuffle everything around all by myself.”

Brendon chuckled and disappeared into the kitchen. I could hear the clanging of mugs and the faucet running. With a tired sigh, I rolled onto my stomach and started playing with my phone.

“Hey Annie—tea or hot chocolate?” Brendon called, but I barely heard him.

My stomach had plummeted to my feet, and I felt very nauseous. There were more tweets, and they were getting more vicious.

Some just from fans, with the usual bashing. ‘Oh, why can’t I be with Brendon instead of her? He’s too good for her!’ You know, the stuff all the little fan girls would say. But they never got personal. Not like this.

Some were calling me a fat whore. Others were less subtle, and wrote flat out accusations about me fucking around with people, citing the pirate picture with Pete as proof I was undoubtedly a whore. Who were these people? I was a stranger to them. Why did they feel the need to say such awful things?

Oh, this was why. That fucker Shane, saying shit yet again.

“which is a funnier joke? that @panicathedisco is better without ryan or that @AnneGreene plans on wearing white to her wedding?”

And another. “can you even imagine that beluga squeezing in a dress? Bitch plz.”

Well, I would be sure to retract his invite.

Brendon shuffled back in to the room, holding two steaming mugs in his hands. “I thought you fell asleep,” he laughed, plopping down and sitting on the back of my legs. “I made a tea and a hot chocolate, but I kinda already drank half of the hot chocolate. So I hope you’re in the mood for some chamomile!”

I could tell he expected me to laugh or retort with something witty, but I was still glaring at my phone. He raised an eyebrow and put the mugs on the coffee table, then laid his body overtop of mine, resting his arms on either side of me and resting his chin on my shoulder. “What’s the matter, baby?”

I sighed and held up my phone for him to read over my shoulder. “Can I maybe please kick his ass? Pretty please?”

Brendon’s eyes scanned over the tweets, the happy glimmer in them dimming with each word. “I swear, dude has fucking issues,” he said. He kissed my head and ruffled my hair. “Just forget him, Annie. He’s the type of shit that thrives off of getting attention from the people he fucks with.”

I grumbled and shimmied further into the couch, ignoring Brendon’s groan when my butt rubbed against his crotch. “It’s just rude,” I said. My thumb traced over those words, “fat whore,” “beluga.” I suddenly was regretting eating that third piece of pizza.

Brendon nodded and placed a soft kiss below my ear. “He’s a shit,” he repeated. When I didn’t answer, he rolled to lay next to me, pushing gently on my shoulder to make me lay on my side and face him. “Hey, you’re not seriously letting this guy bug you, are you?” he asked, brushing my hair away from my eyes when I tried hiding behind it.

“It’s not just him,” I grumbled. “Everyone thinks I’m too fat and slutty for you.”

Brendon rolled his eyes. “Okay, everyone does not think that.”

“Most of my Twitter notifications seem to think so.”

He glanced at my phone again and then tugged it out of my hands, tossing it over his shoulder. I yelped and tried grabbing for it, but his hand on my hip pressed me tight against the back of the couch. “Bren, if you cracked my screen, I swear.”

“Psh, it’s fine. The carpet will cushion it.”

“We have hardwood floors.”

He was silent for a second, and then grinned sheepishly. “Well, anyway.” I just laughed and shook my head at him. His fingers continued to play with my hair, trailing the long strands along my face and to my neck. “What happened to the sassy Annie that didn’t give a crap what people said?” he asked quietly.

I bit my lip and looked away. “She’s still here. It’s just…this guy seems to have a personal vendetta against me or something.”

He shook his head and waved his free hand around, as if trying to push away my thoughts. “Nah, the guy really is just a dick. He just says the shit Ryan’s too scared to say about us.” He rubbed his nose against mine, making me look up at him. “Now, c’mon. What else is upsetting you?”

I sighed and buried my face in his chest, determined not to let him see my blush. “I don’t know. It’s just…I am kinda fat.”

I nearly screamed when Brendon fell back and off the couch. He looked at me in a daze, and I worried for a moment that his little tumble had somehow given him a concussion or something. “Oh my God, Bren, are you okay?” I squealed, reaching a shaking hand out to touch his cheek. He blinked, and shook his head.

“Are you crazy?” he asked. I let my hand drop, and stared at him blankly. His eyes roamed over my body, from my Marvel-sock clad feet up to my concerned face. “How in the world could you ever think you’re fat?

I blushed and looked away, somehow becoming fascinated with my fingernails. “Bren, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Me be ridiculous? Don’t you be ridiculous!” Brendon sat up on his knees and leaned forward on the couch, grabbing my hands and making me look at him. “You are the fucking most beautiful girl in the world, Anne Greene. Don’t you ever let me hear you say anything like that again!”

I rolled my eyes and tried pulling my hands away, but he held onto me. “Oh, please. Are you seriously going to tell me people haven’t given you crap for not dating a skinny-minnie? I mean look at Meagan. The girl has a gap between her thighs. Meanwhile I’ve got a belly like I’m two months pregnant and an ass—“

“—that won’t quit,” Brendon interrupted, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I glared at him and he stuck out his tongue. “Dude, Anne, all my friends are jealous as anything about you. They think you’re hot as fuck.” He let his eyes wander over me again, the same way he did every time he was trying to get me worked up. “I would have to agree with them. God, you are sexy.”

He pushed me onto my back and climbed over me, pressing his lips softly against my neck and collarbone. I groaned and tried pushing on his shoulders to make him stop, but he was nothing if not persistent in proving his point. “Brendon, trying to have sex with me right now is not going to make me feel any better about the comments about me being a whore.”

“Are you only having sex with me?” he asked. His eyes were closed, and his lips were still being very attentive to the sensitive spot beneath my jaw.

“Y-yes,” I moaned, glaring at the top of his head. I felt his lips turn up against my skin, and his teeth nipped at me. I pretended my groan was actually me cursing his skills, but who am I kidding.

“Then you’re not a whore. Boy, that was simple enough.” He pulled back to kiss my cheek a quick kiss and then his lips decided to nip a bit further, at the collar of my tee-shirt.

“Well, when you put it that way,” I giggled, patting his head, signaling he should let up. I could tell he was hesitant to cease his attack, but I was exhausted. I shimmied out from underneath him and walked over to where my phone lay, face down. I bent over to pick it up and heard Brendon sigh.

“You really are beautiful, Annie,” he mumbled. I smiled to myself and turned over the phone in my hands. “So, what’s the diagnosis?” he asked, sitting up and pulling me into his lap.

I showed him the intact screen and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “No crack. You shall live another day.”

“Thank goodness.”

Later, I snuggled up into our new bed, pulling those silly Spiderman sheets up to cover my torso. I could hear Brendon humming to himself as he brushed his teeth, and I couldn’t help but blush when I recognized the tune. He only hummed “Always” when he was feeling very, very sappy. I can’t say I minded, though. It was, after all, for me.

I glanced at my phone when I noticed it light up with a text on the makeshift bedside table Brendon had whipped up for me, comprised of my boxes of unpacked clothes. I groaned and stretched to grab it, squinting at the name on the screen.

Ryan?

“Hey,” it read. “Was wondering if you wanted to meet up for lunch tomorrow.”

I glanced at the bathroom door. I could hear the sink running, and Brendon’s humming had paused. He’d pee next. It was just his routine. “Bren!” I called, hoping to catch him before he worked up a steady flow. Luck had favored me, because he peeked his head out. The silence in the room indicated I caught him before he managed to get his pants down.

“’Sup?” he asked, licking his lips. There was still some toothpaste dribbling on his chin, but I decided to let him figure it out by himself.

I wasn’t about keeping secrets from Brendon. We told each other everything, even if it was a bit uncomfortable. That’s probably how we got so close to fast, and how I learned never to startle him once he had started peeing. “Ryan wants me to get lunch with him tomorrow.”

He blinked and wiped at his chin. His eyebrows were furrowed, and I could tell he didn’t like the idea of Ryan texting me. Or having my number, for that matter, but we’d all been friends once upon a time. That couldn’t be helped now. “Are you gonna go?” he asked.

I bit my lip and shrugged, making him chuckle. “You don’t need my permission, honey,” he said.

I blushed. “I know! I just, I don’t know, wanted you to know.”

His smile softened and he walked out wearing only his boxers. The little gap in the front showed me that I had only just caught his attention in time, and I tried not to stare at the button that was making one of my favorite things in the world very visible to me.

“I think you should go,” he said, drawing my attention away from his crotch. His smile widened, looking almost conniving. “Then you can tell him off.”

I let my grin spread slowly across my face, making him laugh. “Oh, yes, that could be fun. Yeah, imma do that.” I typed to Ryan that I’d meet up with him the next day, and as soon as I hit send the phone was once again whipped out of my hands. “Hey!” I cried, grunting when Brendon threw himself over me. “I thought you still had to pee?” For some reason the question felt like an important thing to say at that moment.

I gasped when Brendon’s fingers pressed against me, and my own dug into his hair. His laugh was almost as beautiful as the music he made. “Who’s got time for peeing? It’s our first night in our new house. I wait any longer and you’re gonna be asleep!”

I licked his cheek and he spluttered. “You’re a dork, Brendon,” I laughed.

He let out an animalistic growl and nuzzled my chest. “Shut up and love me, woman.” And I was never a woman to deny my man love.