Brendon certainly wasn’t used to Ryan coming home drunk- it was never a situation he imagined happening, or thought he had to prepare for, because Ryan was kind of alcohol-phobic and barely touched it unless a social event occurred where it was obliged. Even then, Brendon knew he consumed it very sparingly before losing his nerve with the stuff and stopping. It wasn’t like he didn’t [i]like[/i] it, Brendon knew that, because he had seen Ryan enjoy it before- in fact, Brendon was almost positive that these days the abstinence of drinking was due to some kind of guilt, like he felt he owed Brendon that, or he couldn’t for fear of upsetting him. Maybe Brendon was kind of cynical that way, thinking it revolved around him- Ryan unfortunately had plenty more history involving alcohol and alcoholics in his past- but on the very rare occasion he did drink, and Brendon was present, he always caught careful glances his way, almost like he was scared to get caught with a drink in his hand. Brendon appreciated the thought but wanted to tell him that by doing that he made the sense of alienation even worse, and subconsciously heightened his own sense of anxiety around drinking. It wasn’t too bad, though, so he just kind of ignored it.

Ryan’s 21st, though, was not only revolved around drinking (legally, at least), but it was an event where Brendon was notably absent and Ryan didn’t feel as pressured to maybe hang on for his boyfriend’s sake. Brendon was glad, at the time, but also didn’t know what to expect- he knew Ryan would be drinking (Gabe and Holden would most likely see to that), but not how much. If he knew Ryan it wouldn’t be that much, but apparently he was wrong- when Ryan got back to their apartment after hightailing from his own party and flying to a different state at 2am, he was greeted by a Ryan he wasn’t used to. His boyfriend was tipsy, and that was enough for Brendon- he didn’t need, or want, to ask exactly what he’d drank, because there was a startling pang of envy upon seeing the pictures from the party and then Ryan himself, and a sense of longing when he could still detect the faint taste of whiskey when he and Ryan kissed. More than anything, though, Brendon thought it was funny, and knew from the moment Ryan got home that he’d be laughing at it him tomorrow when he was nursing a hangover.

After a couple of hours, at around 4am, Brendon managed to convince an overly touchy and very affectionate Ryan to go to sleep, promising he’d be minutes behind. Brendon brushed his teeth and got undressed and then collapsed next to him, realising after only a moment of holding his breath to listen, Ryan had passed out. Too hot to actually climb under any blankets, throughout the night all of them had been systematically stolen by his apparently cold, sleeping boyfriend, and in the morning when Brendon woke up at around 11am, Ryan was covered by a mountain of blankets. The sun was, regrettably, piercing through the cracks in the blinds by now, and Brendon shielded his eyes slightly as he sat up, covered with a sheen of sweat, his hair springing up comically. Squinting, he looked over at the pile of blankets where his boyfriend was presumably sound asleep, then eased himself off the bed, heading straight into the bathroom to shower quickly so he at least looked awake.

Fifteen minutes later and he was showered, fully dressed, and had made himself some toast (how capable of him) that he was eating as he walked back into the bedroom. He was just in time to catch a movement under the blankets and grinned, moving around to his own side of the bed to place his plate down, then climbing back on, prodding Ryan hard. [b]”Sleeping beauty?”[/b] He said in a sing-song voice, settling back and shaking his head. [b]”Is someone hungover?”[/b] He tried after a pause, tugging at a few blankets and pulling them away with only faint protest from Ryan until he could actually make him out. [b]”Damn, rough night?”[/b] Brendon couldn’t help but laugh as he threw the few blankets that Ryan wasn’t clutching onto off the side of the bed, and prodded him again, apparently to no avail. Not willing to give up, he climbed over Ryan with complete lack of courtesy to go and open the blinds, letting the sunlight stream in. All he got from that was a groan of protest.

[b]”This feels like an emotional episode of, like, an alcoholic recovery show, or something.”[/b] He commented, moving back over and actually fully straddling Ryan, a knee on either side of his torso. Ryan’s face was partially obscured by remaining blankets, and Brendon laughed again, leaning forward over him to kiss his cheekbone and then moving aside, shaking his head. [b]”[i]Though he seems to be trapped in both bed and denial, Ryan’s eventually going to have to face facts... He’s relapsed, and his boyfriend won’t be happy[/i].” [/b] At least he found himself funny. Brendon stood up again, rolling his shoulders back. [b]”Wake up, asshole.”[/b]