Although his boyfriend was clearly dead set on killing him - or at least Ryan felt like he was most definitely dying - Brendon was (a). pretty cute and (b). meaning well. Maybe. He [i]presumably[/i] just wanted to make Ryan get up before he wasted a whole day and worsened his condition. All that in mind, Ryan wasn't genuinely mad at him, but it was easier to be mean and snippy than muster up anything normal. Thankfully, Brendon seemed to either realise this or accept the cruelty in stride. [i]What do you think I’ve been doing for the past few days?[/i] Ryan was half paying attention. Brendon's incessant poking and prodding brought him back just in time to hear that and he groaned in mock annoyance. [i]There’s a nice image for you.[/i] If there wasn't one in his head before, there was after Brendon made that suggestion; Ryan was caught a little off-guard, looking through slitted eyes at Brendon to try and dispel his stupid mental picture. [b]"Have mercy for a second, would you? I'm in hell."[/b]

[i]I’m a genius.[/i] Ryan tried not to look at him too long, 'cause the more he was in the oblique light of the sun flattering himself, the harder it was to throw halfhearted, dispirited comments at him. Brendon's power wasn't unique to Ryan, of course, but it was apparently twenty times as effective. [i]Fuck off, it's past eleven.[/i] Ryan could cry. [b]"It feels like four in the morning. Except, at four in the morning, the sun isn't out to fuck me over."[/b] He tried again to retrieve a pillow, pressing it protectively to the side of the face that rays of sunshine were assaulting. [i]Slacking.[/i] Very much so. Maybe if Brendon's intent was, indeed, to get him up, then he was going about it wisely; the more Ryan thought that he might be lazing out, the more he felt guilted into rising and preparing for the day. But he was pretty sure all he could accomplish was [i]maybe[/i] making a cup of coffee and carrying a pillow/blanket to the couch so he could suffer somewhere more socially acceptable. 

Ryan was already instantly regretting some of his reflexive responses, but some of them in particular were very easy for Brendon to derail. [i]I mean...[/i] Having realised moments ago what he'd prompted, Ryan glared at Brendon expectantly, only for a pink shade to rise high up on his cheekbones while he watched the lewd gesture. [b]"Oh my [i]god,[/i]"[/b] he murmured, pressing the pillow he'd been hanging onto against his entire face this time, sighing dramatically into the fabric. He heard the muffled sound of Brendon laughing and rolled aside somewhat, willing his face to fade back to its usual paleness. [i]God, you’re so easy to make fun of.[/i] [b]"Yeah, and you're still fifteen years old."[/b] To be fair, Ryan had been the one to very maturely tell Brendon to suck his dick. It was just the wittiest comeback that came to mind at the time. 

He probably bit back too sharply with a dig at Brendon's drinking, because he instantly shifted away from Ryan as if he was offended. Hideaway pillow gone, Ryan studied him as subtly as he could for any sign of serious affect but Brendon was a master of deception anyway - if he was truly bothered, Ryan had no clue. He could only assume that that wasn't okay and silently promised not to cross that line again. [i]Whatever. I’m not the hungover one.[/i] Ryan exhaled slowly, thoughtful. [b]"No one told me I had to drink [i]water.[/i] What a hassle."[/b] Nothing could explain away how big a baby he was being about the whole situation, though. Not that Ryan would consciously address that. In reality he ignored any pressing thought that told him to suck it up.

[i]Your loss, not mine.[/i] Pretty true. Ryan was, again, not going to admit that, though. [i]Besides, I’m good with watching.[/i] Color rose to his features again, less intensely, but Ryan didn't bother hiding away again. [b]"You are so much. [i]So[/i] much, babe. I don't know how it's possible. You just woke up."[/b] He just shook his head a little, bewildered, and placed the blame on his inability to deal elsewhere. [i]Gabe’s an [/i]angel, [i]dickhead, and they aren’t very happy with you. Have fun getting grilled later.[/i] First of all, ha, Gabriel was [i]actually[/i] an angel, second, Ryan had no idea why they'd be unhappy. He supposed that was an issue for later-Ryan to deal with. Now-Ryan was too busy launching carbs at his boyfriend to get him back for the entirety of his morning thus far.

[i]Then perish, motherfucker. Ruined my fucking bed.[/i] Ryan mourned all the sympathy he'd just lost in a matter of mere seconds. [i]Die, then.[/i] Ryan watched him rise, reaching out weakly and looking remorseful like he was truly on his deathbed. There was a long pause while Brendon appeared to weigh the pros and cons of adhering to Ryan's requests, and fortunately Brendon finally rolled his eyes skyward and walk off, assumedly to retrieve Ryan's bargaining chips. In the space of time he went, Ryan moved over to Brendon's side, resettling amongst the covers with as innocent a face as he could put on by the time Brendon returned. [i]Don't you ever call me a bad boyfriend.[/i] Ryan gaped at him, ushering him over even while he approached.

[b]"This is the hottest you've ever been,"[/b] Ryan said theatrically, taking the aspirin and immediately chugging water with it, leaving barely a millisecond between his words and the action. He slowed down after, holding the glass tentatively and considering Brendon. [b]"Sorry I told you to, like, go fuck yourself, and everything. You're a great boyfriend."[/b] He skewed up his lips in a slant, looking sheepish, and then set his glass of water down, folding his hands together before quickly leaning over to kiss Brendon's cheek. [b]"Forgive me? I'm dying, Brendon. Couldn't help it."[/b]