The Blackest Day
[Brandon DiCamillo x F!Reader]
part two
Desc: You and Bran spent most of your teen years and early 20s together making stupid shit in stupid love. That was until he fled the spotlight and you fled to Hollywood. A couple years later, you meet up again when you returned to West Chester for the holidays.
A/n: inspired by the lana song. addicted to writing dico like this honestly. also the year is ambiguous so just ignore the little details or inconsistencies if you’re a cky historian
Warnings: smut (18+), p in v, mentions of drugs and alcohol
4k words
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You gripped the mug of coffee tightly in your hands, lifting it up to ingest the hot, bitter liquid which burnt your tongue as it slipped down your throat. You drank more of the cheap substance than you wanted to the longer you waited for him, for Brandon, a nervous habit. You sat in the leather booth of the local diner, a past social hot spot that was now filled by elderly people and truckers. You were probably the youngest person in there by at least ten years. You chewed the skin on your lip and tasted the metallic hint of blood. ‘He should be here by now.’ You thought anxiously, it was ten past already. You stared out the fogged up window and spotted a familiar figure with a backwards black baseball cap strolling up to the door, hands in his pockets. Your eyes flashed over to where he entered, desperate to catch his gaze and wave him over to avoid the awkward looking around he’d have to partake in to find you. He saw you and smiled flatly, like he was hoping maybe you hadn’t shown up so he wouldn’t have to see you.
You stood up to hug him when he came to your table, exchanging soft “hi”s. The embrace was longer than it should’ve been. Your mind wandered to the last time you had hugged like that. It had been two years since you moved to LA for good, leaving behind the man currently in your arms. You left to pursue your career as a film and TV editor while Bran wanted nothing to do with the ‘guys in suits’ he so often complained about. Your lives were on different paths and so you split. It was a week to Christmas now and you were back in town for your family but decided to call your ex and see if he wanted to meet for coffee. It felt so insignificant reducing him to your ‘ex’. He was a lot more than that. He was your partner, you worked on everything together, all the stupid videos and pranks and skits. There was rarely a day you weren’t together for almost ten years, you just happened to have fallen in love along the way. But now you weren’t with each other anymore. One last embrace outside the airport and that was it, you were gone, all those years were gone.
You pulled away from him and slotted back into your seat, him into the one across from you. “How are you?” You asked and he shrugged, “I’m alright, what about you, how was your flight?” You took a sip of your coffee, “It was fine.” The waitress came over and asked Dico if he wanted anything before bringing him a mug to pour the dark, hot drink into. You refrained from telling him it was disgusting, didn’t want him to question why you were drinking it so often then, like a tic. It was silent for a moment as you took in Brandon’s face. He looked older, five o’clock shadow present with dark bags under his eyes but above them that same look he always held. You punctured the silence first, “So what have you been up to?” He shrugged again. “Not much. Work.” You nodded. “What about you, how’s Hollywood?” You rolled your eyes playfully as he rolled out the last word with exaggeration, sarcasm dripping from his mouth that turned into a smile. “Good actually. It’s been good.” He nodded politely. “I saw the last Jackass movie, I can see your editing in some of the scenes.” You narrowed your brows and laughed. “You can see my editing.” He nodded, smiling. “Yeah, all the quirks you used to put in the old videos, you can tell what was you.” You almost felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. Dico was probably the only one in the world that could recognise your work from a few stupid quirks and cuts.
You wet your lips. “You still making stuff?” He shrugged, “Every now and then.” You smiled, “Well I’d love to see it some time. I’ve missed your work.” Brandon took a sip of his coffee and swallowed. “As long as you don’t show it to some guys in suits.” You laughed, “I wondered how long it would take for you to say it.” Bran narrowed his brows. “Say what? Guys in suits?” You laughed and nodded. He looked a little embarrassed and you felt kind of bad. “Sorry, I’m like a broken record.” You brushed him off but he still had this paint of regret splashed on him. “You know, I never looked down on you for it. I never wanted you to feel like I did anyways.” You lifted the mug to your lips like clockwork, awaiting him to expand but you already knew where he was going with the spiel. “You knew what you wanted, and you deserve to get credit for what you do. You’re really fucking talented.” You bit your lip, chewing the skin off it again anxiously, not really sure what to say but you nodded, “Thanks.” The silence was awkward. “You’re talented too you know. If you ever wanted to release any of the stuff you make I’d be happy to help you with that. Independently of course, no corporate suit guys necessary.” He scratched the back of his head, looking unsure. “There’d be a lot of people who’d want to see it.” You assured him but he just shook his head. “I don’t do that anymore. I just make it for me.” You nodded understandingly, pretending you weren’t as disappointed as you were.
Brandon sensed the tension and decided to deflect it. “How are the guys? Tremaine and Spike and all.” You drank more coffee. “They’re good. Actually I was talking to Spike the other day and he said he could introduce me to some people. I’ve been editing some of his side stuff, it’s been really cool.” Bran smiled genuinely. “That’s great! From Jackass editor to Oscar winning editor I predict.” You laughed and shook your head, “I don’t know about that but thank you.” You eyes flicked over to the rest of the diner, wanting desperately to move the conversation off of yourself. You observed the crowd, elderly people still there. “This place used to be way more popular. You remember?” Dico matched your gaze to see where you were coming from. “Yeah, we used to come here all the time.”
A memory invaded your mind then. The morning you and Brandon came for breakfast here after the night you first had sex. You were all giggly and nervous and he payed for you. Your head swelled with the thoughts that the pieces of yourself you picked apart in your reflection had been touched and seen by the kid that did the funny voices. You were happier then, you thought. Naïve of the future, unknowing of what was to come, if anything just excited of what was to come. It was just the beginning and you knew that. Cut to now, you might’ve even been in that very same booth but this time you were at the end. Maybe even past the end, like a weird epilogue. A ‘where are they know’ segment if you will. A young couple was at a booth on the other side of the diner now, they couldn’t have been older than eighteen and they were laughing their asses off. You both saw a glimpse of the old versions of yourselves in that moment. You knew your thoughts had to have been synced. “Isn’t it funny how-” You began, “These kids are probably experiencing a completely different West Chester than what we had.” Dico drank from his mug. “Not much has changed here.” He said flatly. You sensed his disdain for your observation, like maybe he viewed it as you being above it all. “I know. It’s the same West Chester but, different. Newer.” He didn’t really understand what you were saying and to be honest neither did you. Just trying to fill in words, get to talking about the past to ignore the present for a few fleeting minutes.
You had finished your coffee and would rather lick cement than have another cup, same as your company. Dico sensed that the ‘coffee date’ was over but he didn’t want to stop talking to you. So much was left open. “Wanna go for a drive?” He asked and you agreed. You left a generous tip on the table and followed Bran out of the diner. He led you to his car, the same one he drove you around in a few years prior and hopped in the passenger side. It became apparent you hadn’t talked about the guys in that whole time. It was a sensitive topic, sort of, but you felt enough time had passed that it was acceptable to bring it up. As Bran started the car and headed out of the parking lot you dug your nails into your palm. “Do you still see the guys?” You asked as if you didn’t already know the answer. He sighed, not even bothering to shake his head. “Just Raab and Rake.” You nodded. “I’m seeing them all later, at Kildare’s, your welcome to come if-“ Brandon cut you off. “I’m good. I don’t think that’s a good idea anyways.” You nodded again, awkwardly. He hadn’t really spoken to any of the crew collectively since his departure from the limelight. You wondered what was circling in his head. He was complicated in that way, you never really knew what he was thinking even during the times you felt like he was the only one in the world.
Brandon drove you through West Chester, passing East High and the football field you used to film stupid shit on all the time as well as the parking lots you all used to skate in before the MTV days. You both offered half ass commentary during the whole show. Practically making excuses for not wanting to leave each other just yet. After a while, the excuses ran out so Brandon made up a new one. “Do you wanna come back to my apartment? We can watch old videos or something.” You agreed, nothing in you wanted to leave him again just yet. He brought you to the apartment you previously lived in. You used to share the one bed for a good few years before the inevitable and now you were going to return. As Brandon unlocked the door and allowed you in your senses were invaded with the familiar scent. The place looked almost the same, bar the absence of your posters and the pictures of yourselves you had littered around. Brandon cleared his throat and observed you as you looked around the living area, taking in the subtle changes. “Almost looks the same.” You smiled. He sat on the sofa and you followed suit but on the other side. He hadn’t really intended to put on a video, just wanted to bathe in your company for longer.
“So have you been seeing anyone?” You asked, an ideal answer in the back of your mind. He shook his head to your relief. “No, not for a while. You?” You shook your head too. “No.” His eyes fixed on yours before he leaned over and kissed you. It didn’t feel like a big explosion of emotion or build up. It just felt like it was the right thing to do. Inevitable. His hand held your jaw as your lips moved in tandem with your arms wrapped around his neck. You kissed on the couch for a while before it got a little rougher than expected, feeling his stubble rub against your cheek with more vigour. His hands moved down and grabbed at your waist, you felt he was trying to push you onto his lap but that wasn’t what you wanted. You pulled away and Brandon looked a little alarmed, like maybe he wasn’t supposed to have done any of that. “Can we move inside?” Your ask relieved him who took your hand in his and brought you to the bedroom you slept in every night for years.
You lay down on Bran’s sheets as he clambered over you to continue your kiss. He gripped your hips and moved his fingers to slip under your sweater, his contact with the soft flesh making you shiver. This kiss was rougher as now your tongues were fighting for dominance. You reached up to take his cap off but Dico took your wrist in his hand to stop you. He pulled away and shot you an almost sorrowful look. “What?” You asked but he just sighed and removed the cap. You tried not to look completely shocked as now it seemed official, Brandon was bald. You simply laughed, “You finally accepted it!” He shook his head, laughing at your comment. For years you tried to convince your boyfriend to just get it over with and shave off what awful hair he had left but he just would not listen. You reached up and felt his cold head and smiled genuinely to make him feel better for this insecurity. “Well I think you look sexy.” Brandon smiled stupidly. “Thanks.” He laughed.
You leaned in to resume your kiss, picking up the strong nature of it. It continued for a while before Bran moved to kiss your neck, fingers playing with the hem of your sweater until you took the reins and removed it. He continued to kiss your neck but you tugged at his own sweater to signal him to take it off, which he did. Your hands coursed over his muscles and soft skin that you hadn’t touched in years while Dico moved down to your tits, leaving them soft kisses as he undid your bra and removed it. You whimpered slightly as Bran kissed you there, licking and groping. You moved your hands to unzip your pants from beneath Dico who helped you pull them off of you, leaving you in just your underwear. Brandon got up and removed his pants quickly so he was reduced to just his boxers. He climbed over you again and began kissing you on your lips, his hands wandering to tuck his fingers into the band of your panties by your ass, ready to remove them once you wished. You lifted your hips up to help him and so they were off. Bran moved his hand down to rub his fingers between your folds to feel how wet you were. You whimpered into his mouth at the contact which only encouraged him. He slipped his finger in, breaching into you before moving slowly in and out. You hips bucked up at the sensation and you struggled to kiss him back, Dico smiled at that. He removed his hand from between your thighs and began tugging his boxers off, discarding them on the floor. He leaned over you and pumped his already hard length with his hand a few times. You breathed out slowly when you looked at him doing that to himself.
The feeling of the mattress under you and Brandon above you was all too familiar. You had been in this position many times before of course but god was it different now. He looked older. His bald head made him look almost paternal, the dark bags under his eyes and stubble you observed earlier that day bore into your exposed flesh. He was older. This wasn’t the kid that used to draw you stupid pictures in fourth period Trig. This was a man. A man you weren’t sure if you knew anymore. You didn’t want to think about the fact you didn’t know what he was working on in that moment, or which friend was irking him that day or his new favourite band. Your memories drifted to nights spent in that very bed. Everything you had done, entire days you spent there, nights spent asleep in each others arms. You almost grew jealous of that girl, as if your head wasn’t the same one that lay on that pillow all those moons ago.
You swallowed down your feeling though they dented your stomach slightly. You got distracted when Dico began dragging his tip through your folds before pushing himself into you. You breath hitched and he placed his hand beside your head to steady himself. “Are you okay?” He whispered and you told him yes. And so he moved, in and out at a slow pace. You leaned up to catch his lips with yours, moving them together at a similar pace to his movements. Your hands had reached up to hold his face while his one that wasn’t steadying himself gripped your hip. The pace quickened and you whimpered into his mouth. He pulled away to move even faster, instead opting to press his forehead against yours. You breathed into each others mouths, him letting out low groans and breaths while you moaned. Your sounds almost matched each others, almost harmonised like they were meant to be together. Dico’s grip on your hips moved to your waist as he bucked his hips into you, your bones hitting off each other gently. You could feel yourself building up after all this time and Bran could tell you were close as your breathing became more erratic and you began tightening around him. He moved his hand up to your face and held your cheek. “Are you almost there?” You nodded and let out a weak “Yeah.” His hips moved harsher and faster before you felt yourself release. You shut your eyes tightly and let out a breathy moan as it washed over you. You could feel Dico’s eyes on you, his hand on your cheek simply observing how your expressions contorted as you released around him. Like it was the first time. He finished shortly after and you did the same. Hand on his cheek as he came, admiring how his features moved and shifted on his face while he spilled into you.
There was silence for a moment while Bran leant his forehead against yours once more, only the sound of your breaths echoing around the room. You leaned up and kissed him and he kissed you back before eventually pulling out. You lay on the bed blissed out while he went to fetch an old towel for you. He sat on the bed beside your legs and rested his hand on the outside of your thigh while cleaning your sensitive core. You admired the way he looked like he was concentrating on the task and thought about how intimate it all was. You looked around the room at all the old peeling posters of bands you rarely listen to anymore that used to be everything to the two of you. Listening to them hurt too much. Brandon got rid of the towel and slipped under the sheets to pull you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head and rubbed circles with his thumb on your shoulder. “I’m proud of you.” He spoke. You were quiet for a moment, you considered if you should even laugh. “For sex?” You joked and he laughed. “No. Well that too but no. I’m proud of what you’ve done.” You turned your head to look up at him, spotting the speck of love in his eyes. You smiled and kissed him quickly. “I’m proud of you too.” Dico narrowed his brows. “What have I done?” Your heart almost broke at those words. “Bran, you stood your ground. You gave up fame and money for what you wanted. You could’ve had it all, but you don’t give a fuck about any of that. I admire you for that.” He smiled politely but you could tell there was a lot left unsaid. Maybe you should resent each other. Your desire to leave and pursue a career in Hollywood and his moral grounds of staying in West Chester, away from all the LA bullshit was what ripped you apart at the seams. You should hate each other. But that didn’t matter at all in that moment.
There wasn’t a bone in your body that wanted to leave Bran that day and so you didn’t. You spent the day in his bed, fumbling limbs and creased sheets. You ordered takeout and kissed and talked about everything and nothing. You lay on your front and admired Dico’s face as he leaned back on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. You glanced over at the alarm clock to see it was almost 8. “I have to go soon you know.” He sighed and nodded, not making eye contact. “I don’t want to but I haven’t seen the guys in-“ “No, no.” He cut you off, “You should go, don’t ditch them for me. It’s probably a good idea to not spend the night anyways.” You nodded, pretending that didn’t sting a little. Bran noticed how your eyes faltered as you looked down. “Wait.” He got up off the bed in his boxers and began rooting through one of his drawers. “Here.” He spoke and produced a silver necklace. You sat up in your bra and underwear and waited for him to bring it to you. He placed it in your hands and you flipped to see the engraving on the back of the small pendant. “D.” It read. DiCamillo. You tried chewing the skin from your lip again but there was no more. “I got it for you a week before you left. I wanted to give it to you, I did but… I didn’t want to make you feel like you couldn’t go. You know.” You admired it and nodded slowly. “And I’m not giving it to you now to get you to stay either. I just thought you might want it.” You looked up at Dico’s worried expression and nodded. “I want it.”
You handed the piece of jewellery back to him and turned around so he could put it on you. You moved your hair away from your neck as Dico attached it, hands brushing the stray pieces of locks away from your skin, making you shiver. You looked down and held it between your fingers, admiring it. “Thank you.” You said and kissed him softly. The thought that he had kept it after all those years for you made your heart swell.
As Dico drove you to Kildare’s, probably in the complete wrong attire as you still sported the sweater from this morning, you thought about the first days you spent away from him. LA was isolating at first. A big, hot city with millions of people and you never felt so alone. You spent your off days inside, wallowing in the dark as you tried to not think about him. Not think about the hole he left. You tried to fill it desperately with random one night stands, reckless partying and drugs and alcohol. But it was never full. It took a while to accept it never would be and after that pill was swallowed it became a little easier. A little.
The car ride was silent. You didn’t want to accept the fact you weren’t sure the next time you would see each other. You had told him it was best if you didn’t see each other again during your visit, it would just make it harder to leave. He agreed and it was settled. Once Bran pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car, you chewed your lip again. You bathed in the quiet. Brandon broke it. “I love you you know.” He looked over at you and you returned his stare, a lump forming in your throat that you couldn’t swallow. You released your lip. “I know.” Bran leaned in to kiss you now. You worried if you didn’t pull away you would never stop kissing. The skin on your lips would never form again. So you retracted after just a few seconds. “I better go.” He nodded and you opened the car door. You stepped out and leaned in to look at him one last time. “I love you.” You shut the door before he could say anything else and set off to the bar, trying to ignore the hot tears beginning to form and fall down your cheeks, one after the other. The blackest days were set to arrive once more.
End.
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