It was a role reversal, in some way, but usually on nights where Brendon had been drinking heavily (even more so than usual), Ryan didn’t possess the patience to be civil, and though he had nearly always tried to be, Brendon could feel the tension even when intoxicated- he felt like Ryan had so many ruthless things to say about it but was holding them all back, because what good would passive aggression or in that case straight-up aggression even do? Brendon was glad that was how it was, because he already felt near-constant, agonising guilt pulling at his insides. He was getting better, because he no longer really had access to alcohol (if he really wanted to, he could, quite easily, but not without ruining his progress and dismantling the trust and faith Ryan had in him), but whenever he thought about it still he sometimes felt that painful mix of desperation and disgust, because he was supposed to be stronger than this. Ryan told him he was strong anyway- he was in slow but more or less steady recovery, and his boyfriend said that’s all he could ask for from Brendon.

That aside, it was interesting to see Ryan in a similar predicament that Brendon found himself in most mornings for the past three years, and watching the pile of sentient blankets shift about, he wondered what his approach should be. Ryan was usually as sympathetic as he could be, getting him water and aspirin and keeping the blinds shut, the lights off and the noise down, but for Ryan this wasn’t serious, tiring, or a draining, constant morning habit, it was probably a one-time situation, because when Ryan inevitably said ‘i’m never drinking again’ he would probably mean it. Brendon was envious how easy it would be for him to say and do just that. For Brendon, this situation was funny; though he batted around with the idea of being sympathetic like a loving boyfriend probably should be, or just making fun of him and annoying him until he got up. The latter was obviously the triumphant option, and Brendon wasted no time in tugging at the blankets of Ryan’s pitiful fortress.

[i]Go away.[/i] Sitting back, he tutted, still grinning widely. [b]”That’s not nice. Take it back.”[/b] Persistent, he pulled the excess blankets away and dropped them onto the floor unti he made out the form of Ryan, glaring at him. Always irritating, brendon clambered over his suffering boyfriend and once he had opened the curtains, he heard a loud groan and the sound of Ryan moving. [i]I thought you[/i] loved [i]me.[/i] He rolled his shoulders back in a shrug, turning around and watching with raised eyebrows as Ryan wriggled out of his fortress, so he could actually kind of move his limbs. [b]”This is how I show my undying love.”[/b] Crossing back over to Ryan’s side, he was again unsympathetic, climbing onto him gracelessly and laughing as Ryan tried to fend him off. [i]Shut up. Your[/i] mom’s [i]an emo-[/i] [b]”Emo? Yeah, that explains a lot,”[/b] He retorted, persisting against Ryan’s hand that was trying to push him away. When he’d finally pacified him, Brendon leaned in to kiss him briefly on the cheekbone and then straightened up, shifting, apparently very comfortable.

Ruining the momentary quiet, he made yet another smart comment about Ryan’s predicament and ducked out of the way to avoid Ryan’s flailing hand, rolling off to the side with a short laugh. [i]Idiot.[/i] [b]”Says the person who drank no water and ate nothing at all last night. Drink [i]responsibly.[/i] Trust me, I’m an expert.”[/b] He frowned after he said that, thinking that maybe that was the wrong word. [i]I’m awake, thanks to you.[/i] [b]”You’re welcome, baby,”[/b] He said immediately, adjusting himself to sit cross-legged atop the crumpled sheets. He surveyed them with a raised eyebrow, and grinned as he said, [b]”This is reminiscent of other activities.” [/b] His plan was apparently ‘get Ryan to kill him before lunchtime’. [i]My head fucking[/i] kills. [i]Do we have aspirin? Or running water?[/i]

[b]”And whose fault is that, Ryan?”[/b] He said mock-seriously, prodding him again casually in the side before looking off towards the door thoughtfully. [b]”We have aspirin, yeah. You know where it is.”[/b] It became clear quickly, when a piece of his toast was hurled in his direction, that wasn’t the answer Ryan was looking for. Luckily, Ryan’s aim was terrible and it didn’t hit brendon, it just landed on the sheets, and Brendon’s eyes widened. [b][i]Dickhead!”[/i][/b] He exclaimed, picking up the toast (butter-side down) from the mattress. [b]”I have to [i]sleep[/i] on this side! Mother[i]fucker[/i]. Guess I’m on the couch tonight.”[/b]