As annoying as Ryan was finding Brendon to be - which was probably just a result of him being smug about their switched roles - it was at least better than what face Ryan must usually show him when he was the same way. He'd not witnessed it firsthand, of course, but Ryan knew retrospectively how he acted whenever he was upset with or disappointed in Brendon; hell, he acted the same whenever anything vaguely negative happened to him. He put on a blank face, mounted some walls of invulnerability, and showed the rest of the world a quiet tension that he didn't care enough to even try to relax. Needless to say, that was probably rather unsettling to whoever was the cause of his mood or anyone who had to watch otherwise, much less his own boyfriend. It wasn't fair - he understood the extent of Brendon's now mostly controlled addiction and always reminded himself to treat it sensitively even when it arose in a relapse. In practice, though, it was harder to react the way he wanted when he was in the midst of it. More often than not he just got caught between two modes of emotion, either a complete flatline or a struggled attempt at sympathy. To be fair, the more he saw it happen, the easier it was to bring out the kinder side of himself.

It made sense that Brendon didn't have to choose between those two extremes, 'cause Ryan was never like this - and, according to his supreme distaste, he would never be like this again. Maybe. If peer pressure didn't get him first. He just vowed never to spend any time unattended with Gabe or Holden. For now, though, he wanted to be totally alone, and he demanded this of Brendon as soon as he could. [i]That’s not nice. Take it back.[/i] The 'shut up' Ryan meant to say just floated around in his pained head, but he managed to convey it somewhat through a glare that pierced Brendon for a full minute. He continued flouncing around, though, making the environment as unbearable for a hungover newly-21-year-old as he could. [i]This is how I show my undying love.[/i] [b]"Go fuck yourself,"[/b] he mumbled, at this point just throwing out whatever insults or taunts that came to mind first. Most of them, like that one, probably warranted some nasty response from Brendon, and he instantly wanted to take it back when he realised the ease with which Brendon could just annoy him right back; at least he gained momentary satisfaction from being mean.

They didn't always work, though, especially when he got cut off by Brendon climbing on top of him, very unfairly. [i]Emo? Yeah, that explains a lot.[/i] [b]"[i]Wow,[/i] very original, an emo joke. It's too ear-"[/b] Ryan squinted at his phone screen after blindly grabbing it off his nightstand. [b]"Well."[/b] Ryan succumbed to Brendon's halfhearted display of affection, his disbelief over it not being, like, seven in the morning suspended for the time being. Not only was he awake [i]after[/i] Brendon, it was also after eleven in the morning. Fuck. Maybe it was his frustration with himself that made him hurl another snide insult Brendon's way, just short of childish namecalling. [i]Says the person who drank no water and ate nothing at all last night. Drink [/i]responsibly[i]. Trust me, I’m an expert.[/i] [b]"Suck my dick. You've never had a responsible drink in your life, Blake."[/b] He'd probably regret that in, like, five hours. Not just his opting for 'suck my dick' over all other possible comebacks, but also him making fun of what was probably a topic his jokes weren't welcome on. Then again, Brendon kinda started it, and his mean streak was already a mile long anyway.

[i]You’re welcome, baby.[/i] Catching sight of Brendon's smartly raised eyebrow, Ryan contained his irritation by setting his jaw tightly, bones stark with definition over his otherwise gentle features for half a second. [i]This is reminiscent of other activities.[/i] Ryan groaned again [i]just[/i] as he got the last word out, almost in time to cut him off as he'd intended to but not quite. [b]"Yeah, which you won't be participating in, like, ever again. Fucker."[/b] Brendon clearly didn't seem to care - nor did he about Ryan's totally serious suffering, either. [i]And whose fault is that, Ryan?[/i] Ryan batted at his hand cattily when he prodded him again, overly sensitive. [b]"Gabriel Carrasco's."[/b] Pulling a name from a hat, really. They were the most prominent party figure that came to mind, but realistically Gabe wasn't even close to the forefront when the first glass of whiskey landed in his hand. [i]We have aspirin, yeah. You know where it is.[/i] Clearly annoyed at what was a lure to get Ryan up and out of his sort-of-comfortable sanctuary of covers, Ryan chucked a slice of Brendon's stupid toast at him, retaliatory. [b]"You get it, asswipe. I'm dying."[/b] He finally half understood Brendon's hangover struggle, at least. Although it was more likely that he just wasn't used to the feeling of a very normal, probably less-than-standard hangover.

[i]Dickhead![/i] Despite having been whining at Brendon and berating him ever since he first woke up, Ryan was affronted by this, and he lifted himself up a little, propped up by his elbows folded beneath him. [i]I have to sleep on this side! Motherfucker. Guess I’m on the couch tonight.[/i] [b]"You're goddamn right you are! Payback for not caring for your ailing boyfriend. Look at me. I'm close to death, Bren."[/b] Ryan collapsed back again, mock-pouting, apparently taking himself less seriously for once. He kept the act up for maybe thirty seconds before finally sitting up all the way, which took a criminally long time to accomplish. Ryan studied the blotch left behind by the toast landing on the sheets, wearing remorse clear on his face. [b]"...my bad. I'll trade my side of the bed for a glass of water."[/b] He grinned at Brendon hopefully, faking some cheer for the possibility that Brendon might yield to his act.