It was true, last night for Brendon it had been as if the one thing he wanted more anything was Ryan, and even the temporary truth in that situation has frightened him. Sure, he felt attraction to people all the time enough to be infamously known for an endless string of quote-unquote ‘lovers’, but that has been different. Usually the attraction and the want was only surface level- when he delved a little deeper within himself he could find nothing akin to affection or geniune care for the people he had intimate encounters with- but for Ryan he could feel his heart speed up even in instances where he wasn’t usually fazed, he felt geniune guilt buried under his offhand exterior when he realised that he had hurt Ryan, mislead him even, intentionally or not. And it had been intentional- though Brendon wasn’t naive, he had a habit of forgetting he was playing with actual people, not chess pieces. He had been raised told he was better than others; though he by no means believed that, some remained of what his father had told him, a sense of authority and control.

Brendon didn’t want to turn out like his father, but since he was born and raised rich, he didn’t even know what it was like to struggle, or face consequences for his own carelessness- but here he was, standing and smelling of roses in fresh clothes, swanning about his bedroom as Ryan awoke and orientated himself and looked as if his whole world had come crashing down. He didn’t like feeling guilty- he didn’t like feeling as if he owed Ryan something, some sort of apology. So he froze when Ryan spoke, before biting his lip hard and turning around, putting on an artificial smile so to not seem too unwelcoming. Just looking at him, sitting there in his bed, shirtless, hair tousled and beautiful fucking eyes avoiding his gaze- Brendon had distant thoughts of [i]shit, I’m screwed[/i] followed by [i]no, I’m not.[/i] It was just because Ryan was his friend before his lover. That, surprisingly, hadn’t happened before, because he didn’t have many real friends. That even marginally closer connection had fucked up his emotions. Brendon reminded himself firmly that last night had been about nothing but impulse and attraction and touch and heat, overindulgences he thrived on. Nothing more. [b]”Hey, emperor- love the outfit,”[/b] He flirted, eyeing Ryan’s chest shamelessly but then blinking and looking away, knowing this was the last thing he needed.

He wanted Ryan to leave so he wouldn’t have to think about him anymore. [i]Morning.[/i] Brendon raised his eyebrows minutely and watched Ryan rest against the headboard, biting the inside of his cheek when his assistant gestured for him to fill the empty space beside him. [i]You could’ve, too. Come back, it’s not like you have anything to do.[/i] Grinning, he shrugged a shoulder back, ignoring the faint temptation to take up his offer and just curl up and rest his head on his chest and go back to sleep. [b]”You up for round two?”[/b] He joked, turning back to the mirror to try and tame his disobedient, unruly hair. [b]”Anyway, I actually do have things to do. Lunch with someone at... 2? Then a, uh date.”[/b] He said it before thinking about it but forced himself not to stop and correct himself out of the hope that Ryan wasn’t actually listening. He laughed almost forcefully. [b]”You should know that, being practically in charge of running my life and all that shit.”[/b] If Ryan wasn’t working for him and wasn’t his friend, Brendon was 100% positive he would have firmly insisted that he be out of the house an hour and a half ago, and he’d never see or talk to him ever again. He was glad their relationship was different and he had an excuse not to cut him from his life immediately.

Ryan was right, he didn’t feel like he was at fault- the guilt was involuntary and he rolled his eyes at himself for experiencing it; Ryan knew him, Ryan knew the risk he was taking, Ryan knew he could lose his job and ruin their relationship. What did Brendon have to risk? The service of an assistant in a world full of thousands of potential applicants? This ignorance about Ryan’s dwindling dignity made itself prevalent when he tried to insure that he wouldn’t be fired, or get a paycut or whatever- he made it seem like he was being generous, letting Ryan off easy for something unprofessional and morally ambiguous. Along with that came a healthy dose of vanity, or perhaps just overwhelming self-confidence- asking Ryan casually if it had been worth the risk, even though he was positive himself that everyone would say yes and nobody would ever perhaps value their financial stability over a night with a multi-millionaire who made his lovers feel like dirt the following mornings.

[i]Yeah, thrilling.[/i] Brendon nodded once, finally letting his hands drop to his sides after he threw Ryan’s clothes onto the bed, and wondering whether doing this again would break his rule of only seeing someone once. Technically, yes- but this was his employee. He was a Virgo, he was good at multitasking. Deciding it was fine and bending his own rules because he thought Ryan was pretty as fuck, he suggested they do it again casually enough so he could play it down as a joke in the off chance his offer was refused. [i]Some time.[/i] Tomorrow, Brendon wanted to suggest, but he just watched quietly as Ryan arranged his clothes out before him. [i]Just, um, if you ever want, like... more, that’s. I’m open to whatever.[/i] Open to whatever? Brendon dismissed most of that as tired incoherency, but caught the last little sentence and all but lit up. [b]”What, like handcuffs?”[/b] He mused, wringing his wrists and then silently mourning when Ryan pulled his shirt back on. [b]”Sure, darling, just let me know what you’re into.”[/b]

[i]Sorry, I don’t know how this is- supposed to go. I’ll just...[/i] Brendon grinned, fully amused, and watched as Ryan shifted to the edge of the bed and pulled on his jeans. He didn’t know the brand. Something cheap, probably; he knew that though Ryan could now afford high-end, he always felt more comfortable in the cheapest stuff he could possibly find. Brendon didn’t understand that and made a mental note to take him shopping to buy him some new jeans, unwillingly or not. Speaking of which... [b]”Oh, fuck, almost forgot. New suit, wearing it on this uh, date- got it tailored, sent it to be finished- will you pick it up for me later? Thanks.”[/b] Back to business. If Brendon was good at anything, it was having a clean cut between professional and personal. Unfortunately, the lines had blurred here- even for just a second. [i]Call me if you need me, right?”[/i] Ryan was stood, now, shirt still open at the front. [b]”Uh-huh.”[/b]