Brendon’s self-satisfied [i]I know[/i] was just another reminder of his enviable confidence, how he was comfortable with himself enough to have even initiated any of this. Needless to say, Ryan was endlessly impressed, just as he was with virtually every aspect of Brendon’s character - but never before had he wanted so strongly to borrow some of that self-assured attitude. If he had a secure bone in his body he’d probably know what to do from here, not just what the next move was with Brendon himself but, further in the future, how to navigate their relationship. He already had a pretty iffy history with all of that (and realised with a hint of alarm that superfan-turned-frontman Brendon might be aware of the basics, or worse, all the gruesome details). Well, either way. It seemed like Brendon didn’t have a problem with said history or his constant struggle with his self-esteem.

That was the key. More than he was the most gorgeous person Ryan had probably ever seen or would see, and more than he was completely charming and beyond talented, Brendon had this unheard of capability to give Ryan a complete sense of security. Whenever he did feel minute amounts of anxiety, it was because his mind always wandered and found something to worry over. Even then it was easy to tell his nerves that Brendon would be there with him, or that he wouldn’t do that (to the negatives), or that Brendon didn’t think whatever self-deprecating thought he was having about him. Why feel bad about having kind of a baby face if Brendon called him pretty constantly? And not the harsh way any testosterone-ridden jock stereotype might have to make fun of him in high school, or whatever. Brendon was genuine about it; he was about everything. Ryan was sure that all of this was the biggest reason he was even out here with him in the first place, and the most significant thing he noticed after Brendon’s obvious musical talent.

He expressed that, not seconds after Brendon answered his rhetorical question in the most naïve way possible. [i]Because it’s kind of cramped and humid even when it’s freezing outside?[/i] He noted, ridiculously pleased, that Brendon appeared touched by his [i]actual[/i] reasoning, and vowed not to be withholding about all his dumb enamoured thoughts anymore if it meant he could have that effect on Brendon. Unfortunately that sort of backfired, because he found the inspiration to ask about whether they were considered ‘boyfriends’ now or not, and that was dumb and embarrassing in itself. He suffered a good few seconds of hating himself for it until he realised Brendon seemed fond of the idea, and the stress was alleviated just a little.

[i]You’re so awkward.[/i] For sure. Ryan nodded in agreement, long-suffering, fully aware. [i]I love you. And, yes, you can call me your boyfriend. Fuckin’ obviously.[/i] The cringe burned into his features faded and instead turned into a soft smile that directly reflected Brendon’s. There was that security again - he wasn’t calling him awkward in a negative light at all. Ryan considered this for half a second before gently returning Brendon’s [b]”I love you.”[/b] Yeah, definitely still not over saying that. Ryan was ready to say it at the door, leaving or returning, ready to say it whenever he was proud of Brendon, even when they were on the phone. And, because he was allowed this now, too, he could follow it up with a kiss whenever he wanted. 'Cause they were [i]boyfriends.[/i] Ryan was pretty sure he checked off his entire bucket list in the past, like, hour.

[i]That’s not what I meant.[/i] Ryan's eyes rolled skyward, and he became reluctant to twist the knob. For one thing, the indoors were now a whole other realm of possibilities, and maybe a little disappointing in comparison to all they'd just accomplished. For another, Brendon was clearly not to be trusted with delivering their news to Spencer and Jon, whenever they did come across the two. [b]"I'm [i]aware,[/i]"[/b] he said, suppressing his laughter as much as he could. He had made an interesting proposition, though - now all Ryan could focus on was what Brendon had actually meant. His initial thought was 'if only,' since apparently he was parched, and then that it would probably be better if they weren't trapped in what they'd both acknowledged was a cramped and slightly uncomfortable little cabin. [i]Lead the way.[/i]

Ryan edged the door open for them, turning from Brendon finally so he could step through and investigate the lounge. From the distant sound of guitar, Jon was probably holed up in his own room [i]still[/i] playing - or maybe he'd had a pause Ryan missed during his own. Spencer, he assumed, was probably passed out even though it was fairly early in the evening; knowing him as well as he did, Ryan was fully aware that his sleep schedule was fucked. Part of him was disappointed, 'cause even though it would be a little awkward, at least they could get telling them out of the way. Then he came to the conclusion that it was just a blessing that they could still freely be as affectionate as they wanted for the time being - confessions could wait. He turned again with a grin, taking Brendon's hand while he crossed the empty lounge to his own room. 

He barely thought to be embarrassed about the state of the place until he arrived; sticky notes with single phrases and one-word ideas and free verse littered every available surface, his guitar was carelessly propped up in a chair rather than in its stand, and the desk was no longer recognizable as that given it was covered with composition books and loose pages of lyrics and hastily scribbled guitar tabs. At least it was [i]clean[/i], and in fact might've looked untouched if he actually gathered all of his work into one place. [b]"I know this looks like whoever lived here lost their mind, but. I swear, there's an order to the disorder."[/b] He half-grinned, knowing Brendon probably didn't [i]care[/i] but still feeling the need to explain himself. He barely ever touched the bed before, given that sleep came so rarely, but now he gratefully fell into it, already pulling the duvet around himself protectively with no regard for how much rain he was spreading. [b]"C'mere,"[/b] he offered, holding his arms out to Brendon - and maybe still grinning over the fact that he'd probably be annoyed/disappointed by their limitations here.

[b]"So now I can also tell you that I kind of picked you out of that crowd because you were so goddamn cute?"[/b] He grinned shyly, like his now fairly obvious confession was anything worth getting flak over. [b]"Mainly, anyway. And then I wanted you in the band, of course, but really I didn't know how to ask you out. Eight months of floundering..."[/b] Now it was sort of funny to reflect on. Before, though, while he was in those eight months, it [i]sucked[/i] big time. Newly grateful for the changed circumstances, he tried to pass on the warmth of the covers, close as ever to Brendon that he may as well just perpetually hold him in an embrace.