Ryan just barely caught sight of a smile flashing across Brendon's face before he appeared to- what, convince himself he was supposed to be irritated with Ryan again? Funny. They were on the same page, then. For the umpteenth time Ryan mentally shook his head in exasperation at the two of them. Was it healthy or not to be unable to keep up an angry facade at whoever you were with? On one hand their fights never lasted very long, as they either forgot what they were upset about in the first place, or were fed up with not being able to talk to each other and therefore were forced to reconcile. On the other, a lot of things didn't really get solved all the way through or in the most mature manner. Either way they could definitely have much worse problems than this. [i]Yeah, I know.[/i] Ryan figured that was the honest response but hadn't expected Brendon to jump to it first and foremost (as opposed to dragging out his indignance as long as he could get away with). Suppose it was his lucky day, then; Brendon being cooperative was a rarity in itself. 

Despite the relatively obvious apprehension in Brendon's voice in admitting that, he continued to reassure Ryan. [i]I know you wouldn’t and I know you are.[/i] Thank god, but he still didn't seem totally responsive or welcoming to any of Ryan's approaches - not like that was a really strange occurrence, though. Even normally, Ryan was always the most easily charmed (or maybe it was just that Brendon was far more charm[i]ing[/i], but still); if Brendon so much as looked his way he was usually very quickly trying to decide whether the setting was appropriate to spontaneously kiss him, or something. Brendon, while by no means 'controlled' or anything vaguely related to that word, seemed to follow his own whims rather than being affected by Ryan in the moment. It usually depended on the day, though. Whatever the case, he appreciated the change in pace, smiling in validation at Brendon's answer.

He hadn't fixed the situation, though, because clearly Brendon was still hung up on him being over three yards away all day, so Ryan continued to lay on his own efforts at charm. Not impressive, and it sounded like their version of how he might've sucked up to teachers in school, but apparently it half-worked. He already knew flattery worked fairly well with Brendon anyway, if done semi-believably (and Ryan didn't even half to lie to him, luckily). [i]I’d say stop kissing my ass, but actually, keep talking.[/i] He laughed a little, humouring Brendon mostly. [b]"I don't think just speaking my mind counts as kissing your ass, but sure,"[/b] he mused, lifting one shoulder nonchalantly to qualify his words. It was true. He definitely did prefer 'wasting his time' if it meant he'd see more of Brendon. Besides, his issues with focusing and anxiety was all personal; it was stuff he could deal with outside of touring, outside of actual working hours. He'd tried before - in the early days he took those lessons to make up for being barely out of high school in competition with professional artists, for one thing - he could just do it again if the results would be both him getting more time with his favorite person and Brendon not feeling the same neglect again.

[i]And I’m definitely not getting ignored, but you know what would make me absolutely positive?[/i] Ryan didn't really expect much, just maintained his little smirk and half-confident expression as he dipped down to hear Brendon. The more that he heard, though, the less composed he was, his previously comfortable hold on Brendon's waistband turning strained and his expression dropping. So maybe he was sort of caught off guard and Brendon was an evil little shit. In any case, Ryan was now stuck with a variety of images floating through his head and had lost about ten shades of color by the time Brendon pulled away. Ryan dropped his hands and took them back to himself as Brendon moved, the sound of his zipper interrupting the thick quiet - and he was calm as hell. Ryan decided, ultimately, that he was never going to have the upper hand ever in his life. Clearly he'd married someone who was out for blood, didn't care how weak Ryan was.

[i]That would be ideal. But, I feel like I’m still kind of bitter.[/i] Ryan blinked, somewhat confused, not quite having registered that. Or maybe he did and it just didn't make any fucking sense. Really, he was the source of all Ryan's sexual frustration ever and now Ryan wondered who the hell raised him, 'cause it certainly wasn't any innocent middle-of-suburbia Mormon family. [i]I’ll talk to you after my shower, Ry.[/i] [b]"You're dead to me,"[/b] he said very seriously, immediately, to Brendon's smug expression, although in the back of his mind he knew he was still sort of bantering behind all of his very real exasperation. Still not moving despite this, Ryan watched him turn and finally rid himself of his jeans to match the loss of his shirt. Well, not really. As soon as it looked like they were coming off Ryan turned his gaze to the ceiling to avoid his inevitable complete loss of character, throwing his arms out at his sides to convey his irritation. Mostly with himself, actually, for being so easily affected.

[b]"All right,"[/b] he said, truly resignedly, as if he believed Brendon was genuinely pissed at him still. Truthfully he just didn't want to deal anymore, 'cause Brendon was adorably difficult. 'Twas a very unique skill set, to say the least. [b]"What were you saying about 'a new roommate' earlier... I might go see if Spencer's open to me hanging around."[/b] Ryan looked like he was acting out a comedy, all faked seriousness in his voice, approaching the door reluctantly while he took strains avoiding looking at Brendon - he'd just start acting lovedumb again, probably.