Brendon had, effectively, shut off most of his brain for the past several months. It had all started when he decided it would be a good idea to ditch the blossoming intimacy between him and his assistant, Ryan, to start dating Shane Valdes, a well-known general douchebag. Even the slightest possibility of any romantic relationship with Ryan, he concurred eventually after months of being blind, deaf and stupid, would have been preferable over his mess of a ‘relationship’ with Shane. It was more of a deal, a one-sided arrangement, if you like, looking back- all Shane did was take, take, take, money and affection and the spotlight, and Brendon received in return... What? The privilege of telling every he finally had a relationship, a boyfriend, a stable form of romance, even if it was just a caricature? Brendon looked back on how Shane had treated him and wondered what the hell had lead him not only to date him in the first place, but to continue doing so for so long when someone so much better was there the whole time.

Brendon wasn’t graceful about the breakup, didn’t let Shane down easy, because he didn’t deserve it, and not only that, he probably didn’t care. Brendon had been a temporary means to an end, anyway, and by now, he knew that he never meant anything to that man in the first place. That was okay. The feeling- or lack of feeling- was mutual. It was just a regular day when Brendon realised, Shane came round in the evening like always, but when Brendon wasn’t paying attention to him and was instead on his phone, apparent raging suspicion took hold and he’d demanded to know who he was texting, give me your phone, your reputation precedes you, do you think I’m joking. Brendon had snapped- he refused to put up with that level of possessiveness that he once thought was just a funny way of showing he cared- and though he was itching to just yell, he calmly told Shane don’t fucking talk to me like that, get the fuck out, we’re over, you have a serious problem. Shane did admittedly seem somewhat taken aback, but the surprise on his obnoxiously handsome face faded quickly and was replaced by irritation and impatience. Shane was naturally stereotypical, saying things likeyou’ll never find someone like me, and Brendon had just replied with that’s the idea.

The last thing that Shane had said to Brendon was something about Ryan and how he could finally play happy families with his little lapdog. Shane was wrong- Brendon and Ryan hadn’t spoken face to face in about a week, because Ryan had asked for some time off, and Brendon granted it to him, not asking any questions, not even setting a timeframe. He figured his assistant was fed up of Shane, and because their husk of a relationship was deteriorating at that point anyway, Brendon didn’t blame him. He just- he thought he meant a couple of days, not a week. They hadn’t texted, either, not conversationally- just Brendon asking where he left files so he could give them to the temporary replacement and professional shit like that. Ryan replied courteously, but other than that, it was robotic. After Brendon broke up with Shane, though, Ryan was all he could think about, on his mind 24/7, behind his eyelids when he was alone.

He had scrolled through miles of messages and seen in reverse how they had grown close, emotionally intimate, and then it had faded away around the same time Shane arrived on the scene, their closeness waxing and waning, documented in the form of brief lyrical texts that they sent back and forth, linked by a love of music and inspired mostly by their own complicated circumstances. It had stopped altogether a couple of months ago- they hadn’t been close on that level in ages, despite still identifying eachother as best friends- and Brendon’s heart ached when he read through them because he felt something, something real, almost a yearning, wondering what could have been. Or what could be. Was it too late to start over again? Brendon, usually forward, was hesitant to even talk to Ryan directly after his and Shane’s breakup, and didn’t even mention that to him- but he started texting him again, lyrics he conjured while his mind was occupied with emotions and doubts, and though tentative, he received them back. They didn’t need to give eachother any context.

Brendon asked Ryan when he was coming back to work- Ryan replied that he didn’t know- and then Ryan had asked how he and Shane were doing, and Brendon left him on read, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to tell the truth, either. He wasn’t sure why. During the week that followed his and Shane’s breakup (it wasn’t as heart-wrenching as people made it out to be, but then they hadn’t been very emotionally involved in the first place), he dragged Gabe around everywhere because Ryan still wouldn’t come back to work. Brendon was slightly worried that Ryan wouldn’t come back at all if he just left it, and maybe this was just an easier way of quitting, rather than making the commitment immediately and saying it to Brendon’s face. He never asked for clarification, after all, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it now, instead vague-texted him things like ‘I miss you’ and ‘this replacement sucks’ and ‘I swear I have no idea how I survived without an assistant- you in particular’. The responses to those messages were neutral, but Brendon couldn’t tell what Ryan’s reaction really was. They communicated better through their beforementioned habit of texting each other lyric fragments, pretentious, maybe, but it was their thing.

Brendon felt a little lost without Ryan, a little empty, but for once he didn’t try to fill it with one night stands with second hand lovers, and instead he just brooded, ever the poor little rich boy, lounging around in hotel suites because he couldn’t stand to be at his apartment because it was so empty. Not only were Ryan’s things long gone, but so was Ryan- and maybe he was being dramatic, surely he’d come back to work soon, but it was difficult to go to sleep in a familiar bed alone, so he distracted himself with unfamiliar environments and luxurious five-star suites and pointless socialite parties. Apart from that, he did nothing particularly shocking, though the media stayed on his back, reporting endlessly about his split with ‘lover Shane Valdes’. Hardly a lover. Brendon felt venom on his tongue whenever the press shout questions about their breakup, hackles raised, ready to say something stupid, but then the name Ryan Ready paired with words like lovers and rumours and secret reached his ears and the defiance died down into resignation that was unusual for someone so usually outspoken.

Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, he couldn’t get him off his mind. A week it had taken, a week of reflection, and he came to a conclusion- he liked Ryan, romantically, genuinely, he wanted to be with him in every sense of the word, emotionally, intimately, physically. One Friday evening, marking two weeks since Ryan had asked for his ‘break’, Brendon couldn’t take it anymore. He had to let Ryan know, he had to tell him how he felt. As far as he knew, Ryan still liked him. On the way over (he’d chosen to be chauffeured, because the press always sort of hung around nearby), he fantasised- how Brendon would tell him how he felt, Ryan would be stunned and over the moon, they’d kiss and make up like he’d seen and heard about so many times- but once he got to Ryan’s door, having never been at his apartment before, nerves set in. He hadn’t seen him in two weeks and it felt like years. What’s wrong, Brendon asked himself. You’re Brendon Blake. You’re handsome, desirable, why wouldn’t he want you? Brendon exhaled, lifting a hand to knock on the door, his mind racing at a hundred miles an hour.

Ryan thought he was pretty good at ignoring things that bothered him, or at least coming to terms with them and moving on. However, after a handful of months watching Shane manipulate and emotionally abuse his best friend, he was kind of unstable. Not, like, towards himself, but if Shane entered the room his fight or flight response was activated (on probably a lesser level than a life-or-death situation, but still). And he couldn't control Brendon; when he tried to point out the behaviors that were unhealthy or showed him how his bank account was being used, Brendon didn't seem to mind very much, or he didn't agree that it was that bad. Shane was just an asshole, and he occasionally took things, was what Ryan gathered Brendon was thinking. He wasn't sure what else he could do for him to help. His gentle approach to exposing things were ineffective, and he wasn't going to treat Brendon like he was being disciplined into not dating the scum of the earth, so Ryan entrusted Gabe with keeping him at least safe. He left.

It wasn't what he should have done, and he only came to realise that around four days into his 'leave.' He was leaving Brendon alone in this new relationship, even newer and unfamiliar to him specifically, and this was a crucial time - Brendon needed friends when he had someone that malicious around all the time. But Ryan could feel himself stooping to Shane's level whenever he showed up, and it never got easier to control; he'd raise his voice at him when he never, ever did that usually, actually physically show him the door when he was obviously being manipulative, and he could only go as far as 'hey' or 'what's up' as far as normal politeness went. He was an asshole, and Shane definitely deserved it, but Brendon didn't need to see that - especially when his aggression was directed to his boyfriend. So, to save him the trouble, Ryan got out of there and made sure his replacement wasn't too involved to come for Shane, but wise enough to know when to defend Brendon when they were around. And, y'know, maybe a little part of it was the fact that he still wasn't over how he felt about him.

He couldn't talk to him, either, partially guilty, partially just trying to detach so if he did come back he could do so without making an ass of himself. Some texts came his way and he replied in brief statements, neutral as ever, trying not to joke around too much or say anything he wouldn't say to, like, an acquaintance. Otherwise, he might just fall back into that loop. When he was basically at the level of one-word responses, suddenly Brendon was sending him lyrics again, and Ryan was thrown. They'd done that when he thought they were so close to finally... make things official, whatever they were meant to do after basically acting like boyfriends thus far. It was hard to keep neutral, then, when all he could do was see Brendon's perspective and feel like he'd hurt him. Because he hadn't been able to show anything loving or caring without feeling like he was falling back into an old routine, Ryan let himself speak under the subtlety of his metaphorical, occasionally vague lyrics, and was careful to not let too much show.

When he tried to figure out whether Shane was still in the picture - no one had told him, he didn't keep up with tabloids, and he assumed from the partially romantic lyrics sent his way that Brendon wasn't so resigned to exclusivity anymore, but he wasn't a cheater - he still got an unclear answer. In fact, he didn't get one at all - but maybe that was just as telling as a simple 'yes' or 'no.' He could be sparing his feelings by not saying the factual yes, they were still together; on the other hand he could be hurt by the breakup and didn't want to talk about it by saying no. Ryan had known Brendon to be virtually invincible, especially to the shit Shane put him through sometimes (at least he was on the surface then), so he assumed the first option. If they were still together for much longer, his indefinite leave would become a definite resignation - he didn't think he could handle it, and his professionalism had already dwindled to an absurd, unacceptable point.

Even so, he was still sort of entertaining it, keeping Brendon's spirit around by filling his apartment with reminders. Sticky-notes littered the walls or side tables or the refrigerator, where-ever he was at the moment he read the text, of Brendon's lyrics, and he tried to commit them to memory. Just the same, he posted his responses - even the ones he crossed out and started over on. Made him look a little bit out of his mind, but whatever - he never had guests anyway. That was an unhealthy way to live, though, and he had to squash this lingering infatuation, so he started trying to date. Connected with old friends who were delighted to set him up with people, he eventually had one scheduled for an evening, and he was terrified. But at least this way, if things worked out, he could potentially head back to work and maintain a level head with someone else to occupy his thoughts.

He hadn't really cared about his appearance for a while, maybe towards the last month he was at work he'd given up on trying to keep nice. For Ryan that wasn't too huge of a difference, thankfully, so when he looked in the mirror and decided he really needed to fix the issue there, it didn't seem like much work. His hair was overgrown by now, wavier than it was curly, and he had a fair amount of stubble evened out across his features. He was a little unsettled by that, usually clean-shaven, but the desperate effort to cure his chronic babyface was officially on. He wasn't sure how to dress, but Spencer of course responded instantly to the picture of his wardrobe plus a desperate plea for help. Spencer said, very eloquently, throw out your fucking Hobbit clothes. And then, the leather jacket, and if you wear pants instead of jeans you're dead. So he wore dark jeans, some faded band shirt that he didn't even remember getting, and the stupid jacket. He wasn't sure what exactly made this an improvement, but whatever, Spencer was usually right.

Ryan was twenty minutes from leaving to meet his date when the knock at the door came, and he was a little confused - they were going to some festival downtown, he thought, not meeting at his place. He stood at the door for a second to compose himself before actually answering, and then froze up. Brendon had never come around ever before, and now of all times was about the worst time possible, and - if he was showing up this randomly then something must be wrong. In fact, Brendon looked a little nervous; Ryan had learned to tell the signs when he was naturally unreadable. Ryan stared at him for a second, lost for words, and his brain registered alone that they weren't even on bad terms and he was glad to see him after two weeks of absence before he could even catch it. So he smiled, small and relieved, and leaned against his door. "Hey," he said, and his voice wasn't used to talking, sounded rough. Apparently the solitude was worse than he thought. "Long time no see. Are you okay?" There was more subtext to that - what'd Shane do this time - clear in his tone, but he impressively kept from twitching angrily at even the thought.

Brendon still wasn’t sure why Ryan took a ‘break’ in the first place- Shane, maybe, but if Ryan really was a good friend, would he leave without a second thought and not see Brendon in person just because he locked horns with his boyfriend? He understood more than anyone that it might have been awkward considering their own complicated history, but he hadn’t considered Ryan petty or affected enough to take action and resign, temporarily or not. Naturally, he’d just shrugged it off and accepted, asking for no clarification or details, but he was upset, because Ryan had been vague and direct, like it was more of a statement than an ask for permission. Shane, on the other hand, was over the moon, and Brendon had to constantly half-reprimand him for insulting his best friend. Not too, much, though, or he’d be accused of cheating or wanting Ryan, or something. And, again, Brendon was a lot of things, but he wasn’t unfaithful, even to people who didn’t deserve his loyalty. In fact, he doubted that Shane stayed true, anyway- Brendon was a better man than he.

Once he had successfully cut him off and given Shane a piece of his mind for being a manipulative, controlling piece of shit, he felt empowered for a brief while, but then he felt weak. Why had the let Shane do it in the first place? Why hadn’t he listened to his friends? Why hadn’t he cut it off earlier? Was he that desperate, did he want people to like and want him that badly? Brendon was caught in an unhealthy headspace, and at times, he was almost delusional and missed Shane. When Brendon had given him what he wanted, done as he pleased, Shane was sickly sweet and affectionate and called him sweetheart and bren and baby. He wanted that from someone, and the only person willing to stick around for that was Shane- for all his flaws, he wasn’t the one to end it. Even Ryan had ditched Brendon, no explanation, no communication other than professional. Sure, he’d made a bad choice, had an error of judgement when picking a boyfriend, but to leave? Brendon kind of understood, but- again, he felt like Ryan had picked up the knife he’d already accidentally used once and just straight-up plunged it into his back.

It probably wasn’t that dramatic. Ryan worked hard, he deserved time off, and the replacement was organised and efficient- but Brendon missed him desperately, more than physically, he missed his presence and his voice and how he knew his exact Starbucks order off by heart. He felt lost without him, and the fact that they weren’t even on proper speaking terms (neither of them seemed willing to start any deep conversations) was killing him. But he did nothing until after Shane. Shane, who once he had been kicked to the curb, wasted no time in spreading rumours about Brendon, selling stories to the media and tabloids and making Brendon glad he’d never been stupid enough to send anything like some other short-sighted celebrities he’d heard of. Now that was something Brendon’s father probably couldn’t let go. Speaking of his parents, they had known about Shane because Brendon had brought him up eagerly at first, but neither seemed very happy for Brendon. He knew they were both set on him marrying a woman and having children, and he had no energy to left to do his usual and confront them about being judgemental and heavy-handed with his life. He just quickly changed the subject when he felt awkwardness rise.

To put it simply, Brendon was a mess- sending someone who was never really his lover lyrics meant for people who were together, or had been. They’d never even been official, they’d slept together, and though they grew much closer towards the end, it was all a less than wonderful caricature of intimacy. Brendon felt something strong and he knew it, even back then- he just didn’t have the guts to act on it so he swerved on Ryan, acted as if nothing had ever happened and landed in the arms of the first douchebag who said he was pretty. Great going, Brendon. You fucked up your chances with the only person who ever wanted to date himfor readons beyond money and recognition. To try and rebuild it all piece by piece, he picked up their old habit, and the lyrics that Ryan sent back he wrote down and read over, wondering how the hell Ryan managed to be so vague all the time, like he was wearing all the pieces of his heart on his sleeve and Brendon just needed to figure out how they all fit together. Ryan, Brendon knew, had no skeletons in his closet- he’d dressed them all up, put them into songs, so obvious but disguised beyond fully understanding.

Brendon was, in short, newly obsessed with him, like a teenage crush. It had taken a week to build up to, but he eventually worked up the courage to go and see him, and he was impressed with himself for not even having to have a few drinks first to calm his nerves. Instead, he decided to remain all hyperactive and jittery, his mind racing, knowing there were a thousand things he wanted to say and not enough time to get it all out in one night. Maybe. Maybe Ryan wouldn’t need a full explanation, maybe he’d forgive him, maybe Brendon would be able to stop reminiscing on the gentle kisses they once shared in favour of the real thing... Brendon was daydreaming in the back of the car. He hadn’t decided to wear anything special- just a plain black t-shirt and jeans, no jacket, because it was a warm evening and he planned on staying inside if Ryan would let him. He would, wouldn’t he? Why would he not? They were still friends, they were speaking now, even if their manner of communication was cryptic and vague.

Ryan lived nearby, he had to, part of the job. Brendon realised only after reaching his front door that he’d never even been in the building before. Brendon was so absorbed in his own little world sometimes that he forgot other people had their own lives, that Ryan’s life didn’t revolve around him, even if making sure he didn’t fuck things up was his career of choice. Well, maybe not a first choice. Brendon was thinking too much. He ran his hands through his hair, blinked violently for a few seconds and then knocked on the door. It only took a few heartbeats and it opened, and there he stood, two weeks older than when they’d last met eyes. Brendon felt himself fully melt, and his brain short circuited. Was he at the right apartment? In front of him was some stranger, tall and ruggedly handsome with a stubble that suited him better than he would ever have imagined and hair that was wavy and swept loosely over to the side. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, and he leaned against the door casually, and Brendon realised he needed to close his mouth. He did, and reached out to steady himself on the doorframe.

It had been two weeks and Brendon had almost forgotten- exactly why he was attracted to Ryan Ready in the first place. Two weeks and suddenly, he was an eleven. Brendon wasn’t sure what to do with himself, and realised it had probably been a full thirty seconds. Hey. His smile. His voice. Brendon wanted to hear him saying his name. Brendon managed a smile, but still looked uncharacteristically nervous. Long time no see. Are you okay? Tht was your call, Brendon thought, and blinked, moving a hand up to scratch the back of his neck almost defensively. ”Uh- yeah. Are you- are you busy?” He even looked like he’d grown somewhat more muscular, and realised that this had probably taken months, but Brendon had been too involved in his shithole of a boyfriend. Everything else, though, down to his fashion choices, were new, and Brendon appreciated it. “Can I come in?” His hands twitched by his sides, he wanted to tangle his fingers in Ryan’s hair and kiss him, but he did nothing, just crossed his arms loosely across his chest to appear casual. ”Do you have to be somewhere?”

In the beginning he had no direction. He wasn't sure what his life was like before his routine was filled with Brendon, Brendon, Brendon - make sure he had as few family visits as possible, make sure he didn't make too big an ass of himself in front of media, manage his accounts so he didn't act too chaotic, et cetera. And then it was showing up to meet him every night if he wasn't already there, and ignoring how much he wished he could kiss him during the day, too, and constantly denying his own pretty obvious feelings for him. At some point he'd gotten the hang of it so well that it was no longer a job. He liked calling up stupid reporters and settling with them to dilute a Brendon story. He liked hunting down designers and trying to convince them that, no, Brendon wasn't going to be in any movie or make any music, but he was still a public figure and here's lots of money. And he liked sitting there for hours managing the business his father had pushed on him and reading boring property terms, whatever was necessary, because he preferred for Brendon's life to be as stress-free as possible.

And that was dramatic to say, but true. He was a student not really sure he wanted to get another degree because he'd used up his scholarship, and he still had to live with his father half the time because he was broke, and he couldn't even get hired part-time. Between basically taking care of his dad and running off to Spencer's, he didn't do much else, and the busy routine was welcome. As much as it seemed like Ryan did for Brendon, Brendon had given him a way out of what looked like a directionless life. He'd figured he could get by on royalty checks, maybe busking, and now here he was - finishing tasks he didn't mind at all for a very unreasonable amount of compensation. Plus, Brendon was the first person he'd felt this way about, and some actual emotion - as opposed to his old superficial relationships, or the flat platonic friendships - was a nice change.

So letting that go was hard. He hadn't even resigned and it felt like the biggest loss of his life. Brendon was within, like, ten minutes of him, not even that, and he felt so far. And they were still friends, Ryan was just ridiculously sensitive and it wasn't that easy to get himself under control; even with the easy access to texts he hadn't taken advantage of it or seized any opportunity to reconnect. He was scared. He could go back and mess up again, disappoint Brendon by not being able to accept his boyfriend, or his feelings would rise right back to the surface and he'd have to ignore himself again, or any other weird fictional disaster he tortured himself thinking about. It was the balance, between those possibilities and the fact that he missed Brendon so much that it hurt, which he struggled with. And here he was, just a few months ago not caring about anything; now he'd distanced himself from it so long that all he did was worry.

Brendon looked weirdly underdressed for, well, Brendon, no suit or anything luxurious and regal. Then again, it probably would've been harder for him to get there without being recognised... or he had to make a quick escape from his apartment. Ryan just hoped he wouldn't have to hunt Shane down. Uh- yeah. Are you- are you busy? Ryan considered him for a moment, his expression softening. He wasn't dressed the same as usual, oddly casual, and he looked weirdly nervous for someone who Ryan thought could never be that anxious. His priorities weren't in going to this date, they were all about Brendon. After a brief pause, Ryan smiled reassuringly again, shaking his head. "No, I'm free," he said, stepping back in preparation to let Brendon in before he even asked. Can I come in? He swung an arm to the side to welcome him, closing the door gently behind Brendon.

While he was turned to close it, Ryan quickly pulled his phone from his wallet, typing out the briefest of cancellations to his date. Short notice, and he'd look like a dick, but whatever. Do you have to be somewhere? Lots of questions. Something was definitely up, 'cause Brendon didn't usually concern himself about being intrusive, or whatever. Trying to keep his attention so Brendon didn't see him driving himself crazy with an array of differently colored Post-It notes everywhere - thankfully he had only left a few out in the living room - Ryan rested a hand at the small of his back to lead him towards the center of the room, complete with armchairs and a sofa. "No, I don't have to be. You can take a seat if you want. Do you want something to drink? I have, uh... water." Ryan pursed his lips, looking remorseful for his lacking selection.

Nevertheless he sat tucked into the armrest of his couch, his hands folded together, pushing on his knuckles by nervous habit. He tried to get a word in first so that maybe he could, like, help Brendon settle down. He wasn't sure whether he had that effect anymore. "I'm glad you're here, 'cause I wanted to say, um..." He hesitated. He had a lot to say and a lot of it wasn't appropriate to bring up, especially not as a conversation starter. He chose a pretty neutral route against what he'd initially wanted to own up to, something about how he was sorry. "I miss you, too." Funny way to respond to old Brendon texts, out loud. "I never know what to do with myself anymore." He laughed a little, only to keep from being too embarrassed about his lack of productivity lately, and then shrugged one shoulder dismissively. "Stupid, I know."

Ryan was his second assistant, and the only reason Brendon was looking to hire anyway was because, well, it would keep his parents happy, make it seem like he was trying to maintain some order and gain some control over his chaotic, party-centric and hedonistic lifestyle. In fact, he hadn’t organised anything at all, it had been his father; and though Brendon would be in charge and would pay the employee, the majority of Brendon’s money came from the bank of his parents, so in reality, Ryan kind of worked for Boyd in that he made sure his son didn’t do something especially stupid. He had a habit of not thinking before he put things on social media, doing stupid shit in public, saying stupid shit in public. He was a troublemaking playboy who looked astoundingly pretty and charming in every photo taken of him- he was a wet dream for the media, who snapped at his ankles, slavered at his feet, waited for him to make one wrong step in the hope of bringing everything crashing down at his feet. Jokes on them- Brendon had been standing amongst the rubble of a life that had been planned for him since he was a teenager.

Though not immediate, Ryan brought order into his life, and he was surprisingly good at his job considering Brendon had only hired him because a) he took the wine that Brendon offered him and b) he had the guts to ask about some pretty scandalous rumour that had been going around. From that, Brendon expected him to last about a week before it became too much, but Ryan surprised him, and suddenly they were close friends, and then they were sleeping together. It all happened relatively quickly, within months- Brendon often tried to remember what his life had been like before Ryan had been regulating the ammount of bullshit he did and said and pretty much acting as a publicist/glorified babysitter. Not that great, he recalled- though he enjoyed partying and overindulgence and spending carelessly on exuberantly expensive champagne and engaging in more one night stands than he could care to remember. Brendon’s problem wasn’t that he was a victim of bad press- it was that a lot of what they wrote scathingly about him was true. He was a privileged, entitled, arrogant son of a billionaire- and in many ways, he still was.

Brendon knew that Ryan would disagree- say that he wasn’t selfish or shallow, that he was compassionate and dynamic and mercurial and a joy to be around. He accepted this praise readily, but the scathing words Ryan had said to him that morning after still stung when he thought about them too long- that he didn’t care about people, he was reckless with emotions, he was inavailable, vulnerable and aggressive all at once. He felt like he was being peeled away at, like layers of himself were being stripped. Brendon didn’t like not being in control, so he snapped, and sent Ryan away. Not even three days later, they were fine, and as they grew closer after that, they reached the point where they were close and affectionate and if somebody didn’t know Brendon any better, they would think, hey, those two are dating, they’re probably in love. They weren’t dating. They weren’t in love. But Brendon had been convinced by Gabe and Ryan- he wanted to know what love felt like. Maybe if he hadn’t gone for Shane, instead, he would know.

Or maybe not. It was all a guessing game, now. The only thing that was certain was that Brendon had chosen Shane, then dumped Shane, but before he realised he should have done that right at the start, Ryan had left with no explanation and no apology, leaving Brendon’s affairs in the hands of some stranger. He was nice enough to them, but often short- not mean, he was just easily irritable. Brendon missed Ryan, and the more time he spent with Shane, the more he realised that. Now, Brendon was sure for once in his life that he actually liked someone in more ways than physical, he wanted to be with someone, introduced someone as his boyfriend and have nobody whisper about it, saying stuff like I bet he’s just another hookup and I wonder how long he’ll last before getting bored this time. Maybe the last part would never happen, but what would it matter if he really was in a healthy relationship, not one where his boyfriend had demanded to see his phone...

Bygones. Brendon was here now, at Ryan’s door, staring at Ryan, trying not to let sweet memories turn bitter on his tongue. Ryan looked... so good. Back in the time when Shane and Brendon were in the midst of their disaster of s relationship, Ryan had stopped caring about his appearance altogether, but apparently that had changed- but who would Ryan want to look good for? He knew him well enough to know it wouldn’t be for vanity. Brendon considered hopefully that maybe Ryan had been thinking about Brendon in the same way that he thought about Ryan. When Ryan spoke again, he barely heard, he was that distracted by all possibilities clouding his mind. No, I’m free. There was a pause, and Brendon wondered if he was lying, but he wasn’t about to complain and walked past his assistant, too nervous to properly register the details of this new place. He knew it would be of decent size- Brendon payed him a lot, really- and that the decor would be questionable. Ryan wasn’t much of an interior designer. Luckily for him, he didn’t notice the sticky notes.

Brendon checked again that Ryan didn’t have to go anywhere tonight. If all went well, he wanted to stay with him. He asked, but his question trailed off suddenly when he felt Ryan’s hand test comfortably on the small of his back. He felt himself short circuit yet again, inhaling sharply, his nerves electrified, every other sense muted so he could focus on that light but firm touch, guiding him into the living room. Brendon mourned its loss when Ryan went over to sit down on his couch. No, I don’t have to be. You can take a seat if you want. Brendon nodded, and moved to sit on the same couch but on the opposite side. Do you want something to drink? I have, uh... water. For once in the evening, Brendon looked amused, grinning and shaking his head. ”No thanks, I’ve got to drive home,” He teased, settling back into the cushions and trying to fully relax. This was Ryan. Why was he so anxious? What’s the worst that could happen?

I'm glad you're here, 'cause I wanted to say, um... I miss you, too. He said that as if the two of them had no choice, like they couldn’t see eachother, when their apartments were barely ten minutes apart. Brendon stayed silent- he was confused, but also felt warm. Ryan had missed him. I never know what to do with myself anymore. Stupid, I know. Blinking and considering this, Brendon raised an eyebrow, looking confused. ”Why- why haven’t you come back? Why did you leave in the first place?” He sounded accusatory. That wasn’t his intention. He was more sad than anything. ”...Okay, yeah, Shane, he’s a fucker. I dumped him- by the way.” Was he even talking? He heard words come out of his own mouth, but distantly, like he was distracted- and he was, by Ryan, who looked so annoyingly and effortlessly handsome. Did Ryan have any idea what he did to Brendon? Was it the same the other way around? Brendon had so many questions, so much to say. But he had to breathe.

Something about the way Brendon was looking at him... he'd never felt it before. Not just from him, but ever. He wasn't being too obvious about it, just looked a little stunned, which could either be a part of what was making him nervous or, well, the fact that Ryan had made some serious changes about an hour previous. The stubble, he'd just decided to leave rather than risk looking even more ridiculously like a teenager; the clothes Spencer had chosen and were very out of his usual fashion scope. So he could understand if Brendon was a little taken aback. Ryan entertained the briefest thought that maybe he might like the changes, maybe these should stay permanent - but it was really weird to value his opinion on whether or not he thought he looked good if he had been trying to separate himself from his feelings for so long. He never had a chance, even if he'd made some minor improvements.

Brendon sat opposite him so Ryan brought up his legs to sit in a pretzel while he faced him, wringing his hands around his knee by habit. He felt a weight off his shoulders when Brendon finally smiled back, even looking like he found Ryan's ridiculous grocery situation funny, and Ryan relaxed a little, thinking it couldn't be so bad if he could eke some amusement from him. No thanks, I’ve got to drive home. Ryan laughed easily, leaning his side against the back of the couch and tilting his head at Brendon. It was really hard to ignore the past, now, and evidently he was more stuck in it than he thought. He found himself charmed by the same old quick humor, the sweet features, the way if he smiled genuinely enough his eyes crinkled up endearingly. So Ryan looked at his hands instead to avoid danger.

Ryan certainly hadn't expected to be confusing, but, yeah, talking like he did made it sound as if he'd ignored the simpler choice of just staying around. He supposed he never really did get a chance to explain in full what'd happened, and he probably never would, considering revealing how he'd felt would just be a fruitless endeavor. Even if he and Shane ever ended things, Ryan was sure Brendon wouldn't be interested in experimenting with the whole dating thing again. Why- why haven’t you come back? Why did you leave in the first place? Ryan's natural smile faded somewhat at his tone, although the questions themselves were innocent on their own. He opened his mouth to probably stutter something nonsensical out before Brendon continued. ...Okay, yeah, Shane, he’s a fucker. I dumped him- by the way.

Ryan's face didn't change, but he was appalled. Not that things looked all sunshine and rainbows when he left, but the timing was so convenient that Ryan figured maybe him not being there to help was what pushed Brendon to his limit. On one hand it was great that things were over. On the other... the ending to that story must have been painful, because Shane was a sadistic little shit. "Just now, you dumped him? Jesus. I was wondering why you looked sort of anxious. Not like you. Congratulations, then. I'm sure he didn't take it well." So that made sense, he guessed. Brendon gets through an undoubtedly messy episode, comes here and looks way out of his wits. It was getting better, though, Ryan thought he could tell, so maybe coming here was the best thing to do. He was oddly proud of him - it was no easy feat to leave someone who simultaneously built you up and brought you way, way down when they needed to control you.

"But, um. It was... partially him. I didn't want to upset you, being... the way I was around him." He picked at a thread in his jeans, knowing that barely made sense, but. "I wasn't sure if I could come back and, like, be different. Calmer. So I was working on that. But, for what it's worth, I still want to beat his ass." He'd started to look up, and smiled sheepishly at the last words, definitely having held that one in for a while - except for probably half-empty threats directed at Shane himself. His smile gradually diminished into a more reserved expression, uncertain. It's not like Brendon didn't know. There was no harm in saying the other truth. "And I was trying to get over you, so that it was easier to see you with him. I've been afraid that, if I came back, I'd just feel the same all over again." He looked off at the opposite wall, knowing Brendon couldn't do anything about that, so there was no point - but he'd asked. And at least he had made some of the slightest actual progress to show for in getting past what he felt - he'd had a date planned... 'til he cancelled for Brendon. Shit. Anyway, he hadn't stared, or anything similarly embarrassing, at least. He sucked in a breath, all trapped energy. "I think I can come back, though. I mean, I’d like to.”

Looking around, Brendon confirmed in the back of his mind that yeah, Ryan’s decor of choice was... Interesting, to say the least. He had some eclectic neo-rustic vibes going on, and when Brendon placed this image adjacent to a view of his own luxurious modern penthouse, he realised just how different they really were, and always had been. In most ways, they were nothing alike- appearance, personality, interests (save for music, they both played guitar and sang, and their tastes overlapped generously in most areas). It was stupid, but Brendon wondered whether that whole ‘opposites attract’ thing was true. Because Brendon was nothing if not hopelessly attracted to Ryan, even more so now that Ryan looked so different, so much better after only two weeks away. He wondered what the motivation was, there, considering he’d given up on keeping good appearance about a month into Brendon and Shane’s pseudo-relationship.

He was nervous, which was strange, because usually Ryan’s presence comforted him and made him feel calm. Now it was the other way around and Brendon was anxious- not only because Ryan seemed so much more intimidating to him now, but because of the nature of what Brendon wanted to say to him. And- even though before he’d told himself he had nothing to lose- he had so much to lose, and that potential loss was sitting across from him on the couch, legs crossed. However, this was Brendon- he always found time to laugh, or even fake his confidence until it became real. So he managed, and a concerned-looking Ryan seemed to visibly relax, even if he did look away down to his hands. Brendon felt his heart skip wildly- he knew that Ryan was hopeless for his smile— was Ryan worried it’d have such an affect on him again? Hope built up in his chest, and he felt newly self-assure, ready to ask questions he hadn’t been willing to over text, even if his voice wavered audibly when he asked them.

Ryan’s smile had faded upon the questioning, which Brendon expected. But he wasn’t going to leave without an answer- hopefully he wasn’t going to leave at all. What he did notice, though, was that when he dropped the bombshell that he and Shane were no longer together, Ryan’s expression didn’t change at all. Maybe he already knew? It was all over the tabloids, but Brendon knew Ryan didn’t read them... If he did know, that would spell trouble for his endeavour, because that would mean there was some other reason beside Shane that Ryan was keeping his considerable distance. Metaphorically. He still lived ten minutes away, but Brendon could speak for both of them when he said that he felt so far apart. Just now, you dumped him? Brendon set his jaw, because no, not quite. I was wondering why you looked sort of anxious. Brendon could’ve laughed, because his breakup with Shane had barely affected him at large, and the reason he was so on edge was so not Shane. Brendon just shrugged one shoulder, not committing to an answer.

Not like you. Congratulations, then. I’m sure he didn’t take it well. No, definitely not- which was weird, because Shane didn’t care about him. Maybe he just really didn’t like being told no. Reminded Brendon of himself. He clicked his tongue, dispelling away all memories of Shane. He didn’t want to think about him anymore. But he just had to clear something up. ”I broke up with him a week ago today,” Brendon said carefully, not meeting his eyes and instead staring down at the sofa for a few seconds. Hopefully that wouldn’t be a big deal, but for some reason, he didn’t think his luck would hold out. Brendon moved on anyway, still wanting answers- why, why, why. Why did Ryan leave? Okay, so he knew the answer to that one. Ryan just confirmed it, with some extra added detail. But, um. It was... partially him. Partially him? ”And partially what else?” He interrupted, but realise Ryan wasn’t done and quietened down. I didn’t want to upset you, being... The way I was around him. Okay, Whatever. Brendon knew that Ryan knew that Brendon really wasn’t that invested in Shane to begin with. Ryan knew that they wouldn’t last very long. But he said nothing.

I wasn’t sure if I could come back and, like, be different. Calmer. So I was working on that. But, for what it’s worth, I still want to beat his ass. Brendon smiled briefly, because who didn’t- but then questions were being raised inside his head and there was so much he wanted to know and ask and say. ”Why didn’t you tell me this when you asked me for time off? I needed you, you know. Shane was a dick, sure, but- I think it was a little dramatic to just up and leave with no context.” Brendon was speaking in a low voice, carefully, his tone thick with doubt. There was something that Ryan wasn’t saying. And I was trying to get over you, so that it was easier to see you with him. I've been afraid that, if I came back, I'd just feel the same all over again. Brendon looked stunned, because that was a hell of a lot to process. His mind was racing- Ryan was trying to get over him, fuck, had he succeeded, had he not, had he taken too long to talk to him- and he just kind of stared blankly, words on his tongue but not able to reach the air.

I think I can come back, though. I mean, I’d like to. Brendon’s heart sank. That meant Ryan was over him enough to work alongside him with no troubles. He resigned back further into the couch, drawing himself in to be smaller, and bit his lip hard until it started to bleed, not even realising he’d broken skin until he tasted blood. ”Would you- if me and Shane stayed together, you’d still have come back, right?” He sounded hopeful, but not to sure of himself. ”And... You want to get over me? Why? I-” Shit. He’d opened the can of worms now, and he panicked, but couldn’t backpedal from here to make it seem like nothing. So he pressed on, sitting up straighter, meeting Ryan’s eyes and trying to stay focused, not think about how they were the exact colour of honey and Brendon seriously wanted to kiss him. ”Are you over me?”

I broke up with him a week ago today. Ryan looked at him for a long moment, waiting for his gaze to return from its guilty drop to the couch cushions, but it didn't. Surely he'd known, in part, that Shane was the issue, so why didn't he tell Ryan earlier and spare both of them that time apart? But that was hypocritical thinking Ryan quickly forgot; after all he could've taken the initiative and actually had a full conversation with Brendon, be it over text or by phone call or in person. Or he just could've stopped by, at least, checked in on things like he got the urge to do constantly. Although Brendon didn't know this part of the problem, Ryan wasn't so sure that even if he had known he would've come back so soon. A week ago he still stayed up to ungodly hours just to avoid dreaming about Brendon, or something about the two of them together. Now he still didn't sleep much - but not for fear of what might come into his head; he just didn't make very good choices by his lonesome.

After scanning his body language, Ryan figured maybe he didn't want to know why Brendon hadn't told him. He just... worried a lot. Who did Brendon go to when it happened? Did he think it was out of line or something to come to Ryan for consolation - if he'd needed it, anyway? Ryan wore the guilt on his face but tried to suppress it - they both already knew well enough how bad a friend he'd been, he just didn't know how to address it. "Oh," he said simply, then thought of trying to say anything else alongside that, but his jaw just set tightly and he couldn't formulate something meaningful. "Well, I'm still glad you did it. I'm- I'm proud of you, for being able to." His voice dropped somewhat because he felt silly saying it, like maybe this wasn't such a big deal to Brendon and he was making a mountain out of a molehill, but it was the truth. No harm in saying what he thought when it was just this.

The speed at which Brendon cut in to his explanation definitely meant he wasn't happy with the speech, impatient to know why he'd been betrayed, probably. Ryan couldn't blame him. And partially what else? That prompted him to rush a little more through his words - and as a result he didn't elaborate much on what he was saying. So Brendon didn't look like he bought it completely. In all fairness, Ryan vaguely made it seem as if his disapproval of Brendon's obviously temporary boyfriend was what could be hurting Brendon; rather he figured if he criticized yet another choice Brendon had made for and of himself, that would bring him right back to the start where he'd lost all of his trust in a matter of maybe thirty minutes, max. The premise wasn't exactly him being an asshole to Shane being the problem - it was how he'd look not liking, yet again, something Brendon had done out of his own free will. He was only a little sure that it was fair to do that with a choice as awful as Shane, at the time.

Why didn’t you tell me this when you asked me for time off? 'cause then he'd have to tell Brendon everything else, and when he left two weeks ago, he was still too deeply invested in how he felt and continued to feel that he couldn't say it to Brendon's face. It wasn't fair to him at all. I needed you, you know. Shane was a dick, sure, but- I think it was a little dramatic to just up and leave with no context. He nodded hastily, and it was Ryan's turn to look down, timid. "I know," he said just as quietly, matching the lowness of Brendon's voice. His own inability to talk to Brendon about his stupid prolonged crush wasn't an excuse for that - it'd been selfish. Most anyone could set aside their own feelings for a second to help their friend. Ryan was, apparently, not quite that emotionally mature, and all the same, selfish. May as well own up to it. "I wasn't even thinking about how inconsiderate it was, at the start. I just. Did what I thought was best for me. I'm so sorry, Bren, it was... beyond selfish."

That aligned with his last confession seemed to stun Brendon, and he wasn't exactly surprised, but. Really. There was no way Brendon was going to pretend he hadn't known precisely what was going on... unless there was another part other than just how Ryan'd felt about him that was shocking. After a moment he looked incredibly small, vulnerable, and the image of Ryan kissing the hurt look off his face passed through his head momentarily, vivid enough that he furrowed his brow and focused on not thinking so stupidly again. And even though he'd imagined fixing the issue, Brendon still looked slightly defeated, and concern rose to Ryan's face when he registered Brendon's normally perfect lips grew red with the nervous bite he'd ben applying. Finally for reasons other than his silly attraction - maybe a 60/40 split, the latter for his reasonable worry - Ryan couldn't take his eyes off of Brendon's mouth, and he registered distantly how much his chest ached.

Would you- if me and Shane stayed together, you’d still have come back, right? Ryan mulled that over, but it was an easy answer. He loved Brendon far more than he hated Shane - and that was a substantial amount. He couldn't have left him alone for that long, as much as he'd toyed with the supposedly 'smarter' idea of resigning and walking away from it all. "Yeah. I know I would have," he murmured genuinely, so prolonged because a simple 'yes' would probably have made Brendon doubtful. And... You want to get over me? Why? I- Thus far Ryan had felt miserable most of the time, but at this he felt somewhat irritated while he put the pieces together. Brendon had made it clear he wasn't ready, didn't want to, would never want to, whatever. So if this of all things was what alarmed him surely the only value he had in Ryan being head over heels for him was the fact that it was another ego boost.

That wasn't him, though, and Ryan knew it, so his reaction made no sense. On the off chance that it was true and Brendon didn't know how much it had been eating Ryan up while his confidence was raised, he felt an all new kind of hurt - and that was just from his own lengthy speculation. Are you over me? After everything, Ryan was completely uncomfortable being asked questions about it even if he had finally mustered up the courage to admit to how he felt. He shifted a little, unsure. "Don't you want me to be?" he asked quietly, and it sounded more hurt than he'd intended. He wasn't, really. Maybe when he initially discovered that Brendon didn't want anything serious with him, or every confirming incident after that, but not anymore - it'd weakened to this dull feeling rather than his previous constant heartache. "It's not like I have a chance. If you just want, like, the satisfaction of knowing I... feel the way I do, then... I'm sorry. It hurts too much." He didn't really mean it. He still knew that wasn't even within the realm of likely behavior for Brendon, at least not anymore. He'd just turned defensive out of instinct.

And the remorse he felt from that, well. All the protective walls crumbled, and he lost his brief boldness. "I'm not," he said as quietly as possible, nearly a whisper. He felt a little badly for it, just dropping this on Brendon who could do nothing to help him. But he'd asked, for god knows what reason, so. "I tried, and it's easy to pretend, but I'm not." This was, needless to say, making his act harder to perform, though. He willed Brendon to please stop looking like that, because the more Ryan talked the more he wanted to hold onto him and comfort him endlessly, the idea a familiar one.

When Ryan had asked for some time off, and been deliberately vague and nondescript, Brendon of course would have preferred it if Ryan stayed, but he wasn’t one to force people into doing things. He was lenient as far as employers went- but maybe because the situation was unique and their relationship was far beyond simple professionalism, he was biased. Either way, initially it hadn’t bothered him that much; he had Shane to occupy his time (that was probably the only thing he was good for- distracting Brendon, filling up his time to keep him from growing bored). In fact, when Ryan asked him, he almost made a joke- something along the lines of make sure your stand-in is just as good in bed- but the wounds there were still sore when brought up, and they weren’t quite back to that level of comfortability. So he held his tongue, and instead just readily agreed to put him on paid leave. He worked hard enough- he deserved the break, and whatever he planned to do with the time.

Maybe if stupid Shane hadn’t been in the right place at the right time, Brendon and Ryan would be dating and the visit Brendon was making to his apartment wouldn’t be an anxious, tense one, it would be comfortable and familiar and maybe they’d be curled up in bed, Brendon able to enjoy staying with someone without any particular goal. He’d fall asleep in his arms, wake up in his arms, and kiss him whenever he wanted, gentle but meaningful. He lost himself in the daydream for just a heartbeat, but then Ryan’s voice coaxed him out of his wishful thinking. Oh. Well, I’m still glad you did it. I’m- I’m proud of you, for being able to. Brendon nodded appreciatively, leaning back into the cushions with a sigh and looking at the ceiling because it didn’t have to take him this long, but here he was, having only just accepted he felt things for Ryan beyond what he initially brashly and dismissively claimed to be just sexual attraction, thereby shattering everything Ryan thought could rise from a single night and reducing their intimacy to a casual fling. ”I was stupid,” He sighed finally, dispelling his thoughts. ”It’s not like I loved him. I barely even liked him. I was stupid for dating him in the first place.”

Brendon was melancholy, but also motivated by a need for answers, explanations. He wanted Ryan to come clean with whatever was on his mind so they no longer had to dance around sensitive topics like this. Maybe being visibly frustrated wouldn’t help his cause, but it was hard to control, so when he asked Ryan questions, they sounded like provoking interrogations. It worked, though- Ryan dropped his walls and had the decency to look more than sheepish. I know. That was something, but it was too late now. He had needed Ryan, both personally and professionally, scraping by with a tattered excuse of a relationship with Shane clasping onto his throat with two hands. And where had Ryan been? God knows what he’d actually been doing over the past two weeks- he hardly went anywhere at all. I wasn't even thinking about how inconsiderate it was, at the start. I just. Did what I thought was best for me. I'm so sorry, Bren, it was... beyond selfish.

Brendon was surprised by this confession, thinking previously it would be much harder to pry into Ryan’s reasoning and strip down his arguments until he was transparent. But here it was, almost instantly, an apology, remorse- even if the timing was poor and it seemed slightly like he was just saying what Brendon wanted to hear, it was apology, and Ryan sounded genuine. So Brendon let his expression momentarily soften. ”It’s okay, I forgive you for that- I wouldn’t want to be around Shane for another second any more, either.” At least they were united by the mutual hatred of Shane. Everything else was another story, as became obvious soon. Yeah. I know I would have. Even if his answer was irrelevant- Ryan would never have to prove it, because Shane was out of the picture- his answer was important to Brendon, because he wondered whether this hatred for Valdes outweighed his loyalty and friendship owed to Brendon. For once, the answer didn’t disappoint him- he had expected the worst.

So far, their interaction had been bittersweet, if a little quiet and uneasy, but once Ryan mentioned getting over him, Brendon was sure he felt a little sick to the stomach, because if Ryan got over him so fast, he would be pretty sure nobody was capable of liking him for so long, full stop. At first, he was at a loss for words, everything he wanted to say trapped in his mind because he knew if he started talking he’d go off on a tangent that made no sense. So he controlled his breathing, trying not to make a mountain out of a molehill, and listened after he posed such a vulnerable, honest question to someone who could make him or break him in a couple of seconds. Don’t you want me to be? No, hell no, Brendon wanted to be liked just as much as Brendon liked him, he hoped that the hopeless ache in his heart was replicated inside Ryan’s. Brendon wanted to be adored with someone’s every fibre of being, and similarly, he wanted to care about someone with all of his heart and soul. Dramatic, maybe, but true.

But he stayed silent. It's not like I have a chance. If you just want, like, the satisfaction of knowing I... feel the way I do, then... I'm sorry. It hurts too much. Okay, that stung, and Brendon tried not to wince, just swallowed his guilt. Ryan had every reason to believe that Brendon just wanted an ego boost after he’d dumped Shane and had nobody to suck up to him any more- Ryan was firsthand witness to some of the callous moments and heartless actions he’d taken in the past, so maybe he was right to be defensive. Still, it hurt, because Brendon was realising the damage he’d done and what people really thought of him. That he was careless with other people’s hearts, played with feelings, was reckless with emotions when they weren’t his. Maybe his reputation, as Shane said, really did far precede him. He needed to clear lots of things up and he intended to right then.

”That’s not what it is, I don’t need my ego stroking or anything-“ He began, but honestly, he really did. Brendon paused, realising he should have thought about what to say before he started speaking, and apparently the pause was too long because Ryan was speaking again. I’m not. Brendon felt hope and anticipation flare up inside his chest as his heart sped up, starting a wild rhythm. Ryan wasn’t over him. I tried, and it’s easy to pretend, but I’m not. Brendon’s whole body sort of relaxed even though he was pent-up on anticipation and almost excitement. ”It’s easy to pretend,” He echoed softly. Those words resonated in his chest, because that’s all he had been doing for the past several months- pretending he didn’t wish it was Ryan in his arms, not Shane, and obstructing any chance they had at being together because he was scared at just how much he did subconsciously like him. Brendon had missed so many chances- this might be his final, and luckily, it seemed to be going in the way he wanted it to. Brendon inhaled and exhaled shakily, but with an odd refound confidence.

”...I like you, Ryan,” He said suddenly, having sat up, but on its own, the confession sounded weightless, meaningless. So he elaborated. ”Like... Really. I want- I want to date you, Ryan, it’s always been you, I want someone to call my own and be with in every way and I don’t want that unless it’s with you.” His voice was quiet, raw, vulnerable, and he wasn’t meeting Ryan’s eyes. “I chose Shane because I was scared. I didn’t want to hurt you, or myself, and when I broke up with him I thought I no longer had a chance, but-” He looked up, finally, unsure, but hopeful. ”You still like me. You feel the same. I- I’m just sorry it took so long.” Another pause, and Brendon was pushing his hair out of his eyes, tentatively tasting the blood on his lip and swallowing. He had so much more to say but he didn’t know how to say it, so he remained silent, just waiting for response.

I was stupid. Ryan could argue that a bit - Shane was manipulative. Brendon wasn't stupid for falling for what must have been an initially very charming and likeable guy. It's not like I loved him. I barely even liked him. I was stupid for dating him in the first place. Ryan nodded slightly, understanding, and he was happy to hear his suspicions were confirmed. It was petty and pretty immature, but whenever Ryan won out in their arguments and Brendon took his side, he knew Brendon must not actually like him - or at least, he preferred to be around Ryan. Being the 'favorite' was a really stupid premise, but it was the only way he could bear Shane for as long as he did: all along, Brendon had mediated them and it worked out, usually, in Ryan's favor. Despite Shane's charm, he couldn't make a new artificial relationship mean more to Brendon than a longterm, carefully built friendship.

He didn't want to talk about him for this long, though, didn't even like thinking about him when Shane randomly crossed his mind on normal days, so he let it be. Hell, he figured Brendon must be sick of talking about him; he'd separated from him a week ago, and that was supposed to be the end of Shane being in his life, preferably forever. Thankfully despite Ryan's usually dubiously worded apologies it got across to Brendon, and he looked less on edge, reassuring. It’s okay, I forgive you for that- I wouldn’t want to be around Shane for another second any more, either. Ryan grinned, almost wishing that, if that were true, then they could go back in time and he would bring Brendon with him. But he already knew his efforts to convince Brendon to get out of there were fruitless before, so he certainly wouldn't just obediently follow him to escape the relationship. He felt corny thanking Brendon for his forgiveness out loud and instead opted to communicate it with his expression before he ducked his head again.

The rest of this, though, was utterly confusing. Ryan had no idea whether his gauges on Brendon's reactions were inaccurate or if he really was this affected by the news of Ryan trying to fix his little (huge) issue. But he had no idea why. And when he was asked for more information, he was instantly on the defensive, which was certainly not the right way to answer - it was entirely unwarranted. He immediately regretted it when Brendon looked slightly remorseful, because he had no real reason to be - Ryan had just been making unfounded assumptions, giving in to his irrational anxiety. That’s not what it is, I don’t need my ego stroked or anything- Ryan took advantage of his moment of hesitation to seize opportunity, knowing the surge of courage that he was suddenly gifted with was a rare event. He believed Brendon, obviously, because he wasn't that serious about what could only be described as an accusation moments ago, but he'd already been on a tangent.

It’s easy to pretend. How did he relate, exactly? Ryan nodded slowly, looking vulnerable before he corrected himself, breathing out heavily and resettling against the cushions. He wasn't even looking right at him when he said I like you, Ryan, but instantly raised his attention to Brendon's face, waiting for the punchline. Another distant thought: this was so high school, so ridiculous that they had to make these confessions to each other like it was passing notes in class. But mostly he was taken aback, not quite wide-eyed and open-mouthed with shock but more just stunned looking, because for as long as he'd known Brendon he figured he was incapable of that. Much less... admitting to it. And the timing was incredibly convenient. He wasn't sure he counted as a 'rebound' after such an awful couple, but. He wasn't sure what to think at all, about any of this.

Brendon sat up almost confidently but Ryan stayed glued to his relaxed position, betraying his gradually faster heart. Like... Really. I want- I want to date you, Ryan, it’s always been you, I want someone to call my own and be with in every way and I don’t want that unless it’s with you. But. He'd never thought that before. How was being stuck in a loveless partnership so enlightening that he realized he preferred Ryan? Mostly Ryan just thought that... he had a wide spectrum of people to choose from, and picking him was some kind of joke, or he was trying to pander to Ryan's emotions. But the sound of his voice... there was nothing fake about that. I chose Shane because I was scared. I didn’t want to hurt you, or myself, and when I broke up with him I thought I no longer had a chance, but- Ryan sort of understood that. It'd hurt like hell if he had to split from his best friend. He thought he'd been welcoming enough, open arms and all, but even that wasn't enough to guarantee Brendon - who'd never been in this situation, ever - security.

You still like me. You feel the same. I- I’m just sorry it took so long. Ryan hadn't moved since hearing those first four words, and he knew he had to after Brendon exposed himself that way, but it still felt surreal. He had no idea how to take this. Maybe if he had, like, a lifeline, but pressing pause and going can I call a friend didn't seem like a great idea. The situation was so bizarre, such a long shot from when he still called Brendon 'sir' and just went home when Brendon didn't immediately need him. And it was an even farther shot from the detached, careless man-child he'd first met, first seen in tabloids. "Brendon..." he started, very intelligently, and was pretty sure his mouth was entirely dry. "You don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say that." So long that he'd discovered a tiny speech alone could make him feel like he'd just run a marathon. How had he come to this from planning a casual date?

He remembered removing himself as quickly as possible from Brendon's bed or his couch or whatever place they could find just to avoid the inevitable intimacy he'd want to give in to. He remembered being careful not to show signs of his intense crush after their first time, with him acting stupidly entitled to some kind of relationship - and even with that much care he still couldn't get his work done at least thirty percent of the time. He remembered when they were kissing for no reason other than as a preface and he'd imagine so much more meaning behind it, pretend they ever had a chance in his head. And now he did. It didn't sit with him right, though, and no matter how he would potentially go about this, he knew Brendon would feel like making himself vulnerable that way just for Ryan to be uncertain was a personal attack, or something. After all, although this wasn't an outright rejection, Brendon wasn't used to anything that wasn't instant gratification.

And he wanted so, so badly to give him that anyway. But if the anxiety again whispering 'what if's and 'maybe's to him was right, he'd just get hurt more than ever before. "I - I do. I do still like you. But I don't know if... you really feel the same." He felt awful. "What am I supposed to say, Bren? I pine after you for months and it -" He cut himself off before he went into too much detail about how that felt, redirecting. "You tell me you like me after I always thought it was impossible, you never would..." He remembered how he'd talked about why he picked Shane, suddenly related more than ever. "I'm scared, too," he said honestly, quiet as ever. "I could come back, and you realise you just missed the company, misinterpreted things. What then?" He was so, so impressed by how open Brendon had been - but when it was under probably false ideals, it was hard to say right out.

/

Shane might’ve been manipulative, but Brendon, though more vulnerable than he dared to show, wasn’t a complete pushover, and he has wilful, and stubborn. If he didn’t want something to happen, or didn’t like something that somebody had said, he’d usually make a show of confronting the situation and forcefully correcting it as he saw fit. With Shane, he was inexperienced when it came to supposedly committed relationships, but he wasn’t completely naive. He knew roughly what was acceptable and what was not, but the lines were blurred- not solid or clear enough for Brendon to really argue against questionable things that Shane did or said or even care about it when he did. Brendon knew that Shane was a dick, he knew he wasn’t a good guy- he was just there, and he was attractive, and he was overwhelmingly sweet when he wanted to be to the point where it was sickly, and above all, Brendon could kid himself into thinking he had a proper, stable relationship like people were always bugging him to get. Everyone thought Brendon needed someone to control him, to change him, apparently for the better. Brendon subconsciously hated it the entire time- the feeling of entrapment with someone he didn’t even really like.

That sense of ensnarement terrified him- what if it was like that with everybody, no matter if he liked them or not- but the more he thought about it, the less daunting it became; but only, he realised, if the hypothetical relationship was with Ryan, someone who was- or had been- smitten with him, genuinely liked and respected him as a person, seen him as a human being and not a pretty, useless rich boy with a high calibre surname and an endless host of ridiculously expensive suits. Ryan was sweet, and hesitant, and intelligent, and nervous, and careful, and pretty; he was eloquent (on occasions, and usually lyrically, not verbally), dry, and gentle, and somewhat endearingly pretentious, and Brendon had recently arrived at the hasty but sure conclusion that it was Ryan who was his match, the perfect template for a potential better half (even if that was an unhealthy way of looking at it). And he’d made all decisions in the past few hours without considering that maybe Ryan didn’t feel the same way, or want to pursue anything as suddenly as Brendon did.

So, when he made his melodramatic but anxious confession, and he wasn’t immediately greeted by an expression of joy or exclamations of agreement, Brendon felt his back raise and started internally building defences, shielding himself while grasping onto hope that this was just surprise. He looked stunned, so Brendon just sat quietly for a moment, with enough sense to allow it to process, before he began to speak again, still hushed and hasty and stumbling over his words, brain working faster than he could speak to express his thoughts properly. Once he finished, for now, anyway, he looked at Ryan hopefully, willing him to say something, anything. Actually, no, he took that back- if it wasn’t good news, he didn’t want to hear it, and he could very maturely pretend this never happened. Brendon... He hadn’t heard Ryan say his name in what felt like forever, and his chest tightened when he realised exactly what was at stake here. ”Yeah,” He murmured quietly, acknowledgment more than anything.

You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that. Brendon felt a little hope ignite inside him again, but it quickly smouldered and burned out when he noticed that Ryan did exactly sound very excited about it- he was then confused, unsure of what to say, having thought previously that at this point they’d have made up, were back to normal, and he could call Ryan his boyfriend. His plan hadn’t worked the way he had intended. ”You’re welcome?” He suggested anyway, running a nervous hand through his hair. He met Ryan’s eyes with as much boldness as he could muster and wondered what he was thinking about. Ryan looked distant, unsure, unconvinced, and whatever remnants of confidence he possessed had been stamped out in the dust. Brendon felt drained, and anticipated disappointment just from the uncertainty of Ryan’s reaction. I - I do. I do still like you. But I don't know if... you really feel the same. What? Brendon’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to argue, pausing only to process properly what he had said. ”But I just told you I do,” He pointed out, shifting forward slightly with purpose. ”If you still like me, what’s the problem?”

He sounded horrendously entitled, and was too oblivious to even realise. What am I supposed to say, Bren? I pine after you for months and it- He shifted, uncomfortable, aggravated. ”You say you’re happy, and you date me,” He suggested, looking down at his own hands. ”I don’t understand the issue.” You tell me you like me after I always thought it was impossible, you never would... Brendon was frustrated. He didn’t understand what Ryan’s big issue was- Sure, it had taken him a while, but surely that should lead to happiness, and a greater sense of relief? He couldn’t find words, lost at how he’d gone from ‘I’ve been waiting for you to say that’ to ‘what am I supposed to say’. So Ryan knew what he wanted from Brendon, but not what he wanted with Brendon. He bristled visibly just thinking about it, but willed himself to at least maintain composure. Brendon had worn his heart on his sleeve and it had been hurt- typical.

I’m scared, too. What did he have to be scared of, Brendon thought? He stayed quiet, staring at his hands, wishing suddenly that he stayed back at his fucking penthouse and left everybody the fuck alone. I could come back, and you realise you just missed the company, misinterpreted things. What then? Brendon finally looked up to meet Ryan’s eyes again, defiant, but only felt a sense of unease combined with strong affection because he looked so good and Brendon really felt like this was breaking his heart in real time. ”...Do you think I’m lying? That I’m that out of tune with my feelings? I might find it difficult, Ryan, but this- I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure,” Brendon mumbled, shifting back again resignedly and dragging his hands roughly down his face. ”Whatever, if that’s- if that’s how you feel...”

Ryan had never had a predetermined type or anyone in his head who he saw as perfect, or 'the one,' anything like that. In fact he never thought of himself as the romantic type, didn't think he was really cut out for relationships or even tiny flings. After all, everything he had had was short-lived, or if it was a long-term thing, it had never flowed very well at all. When he started picking up feelings for Brendon - for every endearing habit he had, every witty comment he threw out, every silly mistake Ryan had to fix by contract - he realized maybe something could happen between him and someone else, maybe he could feel something for someone else that was serious. Then again he'd only really been comfortable calling whatever was between the two of them a 'puppy crush' so far, so. Maybe not. But it was nice to pretend Brendon had awoken that capacity in him, and either way, Ryan was ready to let it play out, tiny crush or not.

That is to say - he was ready until it turned out his confidence couldn't stand so many different ways to say 'I'm not interested' or 'it'll never happen.' So, in turn, Ryan kept figuring out new ways to downplay his own interest, kept on trying to bury his feelings. For a while he thought it was a blessing that Shane had stepped in, as shitty as it was to watch someone else be the 'first real boyfriend,' to take the brunt of Brendon not being able to muster up that kind of emotion; and then it really wasn't that great 'cause Shane was a piece of shit, but. Still. It was an (unwelcome) distraction to hate someone who pretended to like Brendon the same way Ryan did. Thought he did. Whatever. He was maybe a little bit in denial. And now that Shane was supposedly out of the picture, he had to keep on denying feelings that kept bubbling to the surface all over again, weeks after he thought he'd improved.

Now it was like all those possibilities he'd been denied were being dangled in front of him, and everything he'd hoped could be real could be - but that'd always been such a distant dream that now he didn't believe it. It had to be some kind of trick, or Brendon wasn't thinking things through, as usual. And if that was true, and Ryan fell for it, and then in a few days Brendon decided he wasn't into him at all and it'd all been a passing thing - he'd feel like an idiot and his heart would be broken. Thus far he'd been really, really good about protecting that part of him, so. To give it up now... Ryan had no idea what he'd do, or where he'd go; he didn't even think he'd want to leave Brendon then. He couldn't imagine being instantly over him even after a split like that, or not wanting to be his friend anymore. Most importantly, he wanted Brendon to keep being his best friend, too, 'cause he'd learned how to let his life revolve around him and nothing else.

Looking at him now, though, and all the faint hurt anticipated on his face beneath the nerves - Ryan knew he wasn't doing a good job protecting the most important thing in his life. His uncertainty wasn't understood, and he couldn't even explain why he was this hesitant. You’re welcome? Yeah, he had no idea. He kept on looking as bold as he could but Ryan saw through it, instantly feeling remorse. But I just told you I do. He could say it as much as he wanted. But Ryan hadn't seen any actions pointing to him feeling that way... except he kind of had. Whenever he thought he was attributing too much of his own feelings to Brendon being soft towards him, maybe that was actually Brendon coming to terms with how he felt, in denial himself. This... complicated things. Ryan leaned a little away when he shifted forwards, timid in contrast to Brendon's reignited confidence. If you still like me, what’s the problem? The problem was that Ryan knew for sure he was fundamentally unlikeable, especially with someone like Brendon, but he wasn't going to say that. He pursed his lips, adamant.

You say you’re happy, and you date me. Ryan wished it was that easy. Thinking back to all the moments he'd thought he was projecting his own emotions onto whatever Brendon was doing, maybe it was that easy. He wished he'd just said he was busy and gone on that stupid date. I don’t understand the issue. Brendon looked defiant, but there was something uneasy beneath that, and Ryan truly felt for him. He wanted to believe him so badly that he almost did. He'd wanted this for so long that he just wanted to accept it and take Brendon's word. ...Do you think I’m lying? That I’m that out of tune with my feelings? I might find it difficult, Ryan, but this- I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure. That was the first time he'd ever said anything like that. In fact, all of this was very 'first' for Brendon, all very new and... maybe the changes were all real. Ryan was beyond impressed, and beyond touched. If it was real, it was for him.

Brendon leaned away again and looked tired as ever, hands running over his face. Whatever, if that’s- if that’s how you feel... He'd, for once, spilled his heart for Ryan to see all and Ryan hadn't shown him how much he appreciated that privilege. Ryan quickly moved across the couch, gently taking Brendon's hands from his face and wrapping his own around them. He looked at him seriously for a second before his gaze drifted slightly, the rainbow of sticky notes in his periphery, and if he'd obsessed over Brendon and everything he ever did before, what was he doing now passing this up? Ryan focused on him again, brow furrowed. "No, I don't know how I feel," he said more clearly, relatively eloquent again. "But I've never seen you like this. I - I can't believe how far you've come. And if it's because you really feel that way - fuck, Bren, I..." He lightly squeezed his hands, eyes dropping to his mouth for half a second, and what the hell were they doing, god.

"I don't want you to change your mind," he said in a quieter voice, self-conscious. "I haven't changed mine, but that's because... you're you. And. I don't know, just... you'll realize you can do better, or something. I'm - I'm not ready for that." Ryan kept hanging on to his hands despite knowing that it was probably time to let go, to actually reflect his words, but. He just wanted to give in; it felt like they were meant to be, anyway, as cheesy as it sounded. The connection seemed to level them, or it felt that way, and finally the distance that'd been between them so long felt lessened.

Similarly, Brendon wouldn’t say he had a type, per say. He had preferences- for example, he was usually only attracted to people who were taller than him, no matter their gender. This didn’t tend to be a problem, since he was a merely average 5’9 (even though he constantly complained about being short- he pretended to be disdainful of taller lovers, but in fact he wouldn’t have it any other way). Ryan checked that box at 5’11, almost 6 feet. Brendon was also rather cliche, being quite easily attracted to those who fitted the stereotypical template of tall, dark and handsome (like, for example, Shane- although, even though Shane was hot, he was attractive in a douchebag way that actually made it hard to keep looking at him anyway), and he liked dark eyes and dark hair on the curlier side. Sounded suspiciously familiar, which was interesting, because Brendon only started giving answers to the ‘do you have a type’ question after he met Ryan. Ryan, with his rich honey-brown eyes, and his dark hair that grew curly when it started to get long, his strong, defined and dexterous hands. Yeah, Brendon had a type. It was Ryan.

Unfortunately, it took him way too long to realise that he was more affected by Ryan than any other man he’d ever met, have literally only just experience the full extent of that when that asshole came to the door looking like that, even dressed in leather and clothes that he was certain weren’t usually staple parts of his usual outfits. When Ryan appeared at the door he could barely speak or react, so instead, he just swallowed like a dumbass and considered just turning around and leaving. Luckily, he managed to steel himself, spending a few beats of silence attempting to hype himself up- you’re Brendon Blake, you’re handsome and funny, everyone wants you, you got him into bed in less than twenty minutes- and he was more or less ready to get everything off his chest, and not only win back his fantastic personal assistant and best friend, but gain a lover he’d been virtually blind to the presence of for months. Fucking Shane- Brendon wished he’d listened to Gabe when they tried to tell him that while they wanted him to date, maybe Valdes wasn’t the best first option.

But in the meantime, Ryan had time and space to gain ‘independence’, in that they weren’t as codependent as they’d become to seem, and also the space to get over Brendon’s entitled ass. Brendon knew now that Ryan had found it difficult to be around Shane, not just because of jealousy, but because he was a dick to Brendon and he didn’t deserve to be treated like that- and, knowing if he brought it up he’d be called hypocrital and controlling, the best thing to do was to stay away and let Brendon and Shane burn themselves out of a ‘relationship’ that was more like an elongated, toxic and unhealthy but empassioned affair. So, while Brendon was involved with the piece of human garbage that was Shane, what happened to Ryan’s strong, overwhelming affections? Beforehand, they had some kind of outlet in the form of their constant, oxymoronic distant intimacy, but now- nothing. If strong affection wasn’t noticed, where did it go? It faded. But Brendon was holding out on the possibility that maybe Ryan liked him seriously and strongly enough for those feelings to remain.

As the possibility of that seemed to dwindle, Brendon’s hope and confidence began to quickly drain away, and he felt his back raise jarringly as his defences started to build up. He was moments away from blurting our with something stupid and provoking, or claiming that the whole thing wasn’t true anyway, or leaving and telling him to not bother ever coming back. Brendon’s useless impulse control really wasn’t working in his favour, and he struggled to contain his frustration, because this wasn’t how all of this was supposed to play out. He tried to fervently argue his case, convince Ryan that he wasn’t lying or delusional. Ryan just sat there looking lost for words but occupied by thoughts until Brendon spat out something defeatedly- then, his assistant moved quickly across the couch towards him, and Brendon’s heart skipped violently as his mind was flooded with thoughts like is he going to kiss me, and i want him to kiss me, and kiss him. But no kiss came, and instead, Ryan just wrapped his hands around Brendon’s. Brendon looked unsure, but said nothing.

No, I don’t know how I feel. Brendon, taken by a surge of defiance and disappointment, pulled his hands back, drew his legs in, tried to remain at a distance. ”Then you don’t feel strongly enough about me.” But I’ve never seen you like this. I- I can’t believe how far you’ve come. How far he’d come? What did that even mean? Brendon looked doubtful, looking down at Ryan’s hands right after he refused his grip. And if it’s becayse you really feel that way- fuck, Bren, I... Ryan’s eyes were trained briefly on his lips again and Brendon felt a cocktail of contrasting emotions. The first and most intense were affection and attraction as he willed Ryan to just kiss him, for god’s sake, they both wanted to. The second was frustration with Ryan for being so damn indecisive, so vague. ”What do you mean, if? I’m not fucking lying to you, jesus-” He started with a raised voice then trailed off into a resigned mumble. Brendon felt like shit- had he been that untrustworthy, that cold, that when he poured his heart out, Ryan didn’t even believe him?

I don’t want you to change your mind. I haven’t changed mine, but that’s because you’re you. Brendon bit his lip, hard, tasting blood again as he stared hopelessly at Ryan, wondering if he knew how good he looked right now and how much Brendon wished this conversation would but about five minutes long. ”But I have changed my mind- for the better. I want to be with you, it’s not- that difficult a concept...” He trailed off, because really, it was. Or it had been. An actual, affectionate, loving and stable relationship with Ryan was a new revelation for Brendon, because he was stupid. ”If you didn’t want me, Whatever, I’d live, but Ryan, you do want me. I’m not blind. I don’t understand why you’re making this so difficult.” Brendon was worked up now, overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions and the tension between them and the sense of failure from the backfire of a plan, so he stood up, hands back on his face, dragging back through his hair.

And. I don't know, just... you'll realize you can do better, or something. I'm - I'm not ready for that. Brendon folded his arms behind his head and shut his eyes, clearly antsy and stressed, verging on desperation as he managed to get through several stages of grief in about five minutes. ”Ryan. Ryan, fuck- you’re gorgeous, you look so fucking good, you’re all I’ve been thinking about for the past week, I miss you. Fuck finding better. You’re the only person I’ve ever genuinely wanted to date, and- you won’t even believe me, what’s the point?”

Brendon pulled away from him almost instantly, and Ryan felt like a part of him was ripped from his hands, too. He wondered a lot whether he was in the right place, doing the right thing; here and now, Ryan knew he was making a mistake overthinking everything like this. None of this had happened how he wanted, sure. If it was up to him, Brendon would have known much, much sooner that he should be with Ryan, and they'd be together to this day. But it wasn't up to him and now he was making a series of awful mistakes, pushing Brendon further and further away when that'd never been his goal before. If he couldn't accept Brendon's confession for fact now (and he was becoming more comfortable believing him the more uncomfortable he was otherwise) then he probably wouldn't get a chance like this again. Ryan focused on the hurt in the moments it took to pass, curling his fingers inward protectively.

Then you don’t feel strongly enough about me. There was sound reason for Brendon to think that, but no - he couldn't be further from right. Ryan watched him, head shaking slightly, wanting to communicate so badly that he was unbelievably wrong, but that was a hard message to get across in this situation. What do you mean, if? I’m not fucking lying to you, jesus- Really, he couldn't be. Brendon was too adamant about it all, too serious and too genuine sounding to be lying or joking or trying to embarrass Ryan, whatever. And if he was unsure about himself later on, it would be more than shocking, considering how much thought was going into him telling Ryan. Brendon wouldn't put this much effort and time into it if he didn't mean it; he wouldn't be risking himself in this way. "You're not," he said very quietly, barely audible, incredulous.

But I have changed my mind- for the better. I want to be with you, it’s not- that difficult a concept... Ryan opened his mouth to tell him that, yes, it was an incredibly difficult concept, that was the whole point, but Brendon seemed to catch on. He stayed quiet and kept on watching him speak like he'd been, gaze intent because seeing him talk like this was... a lot to take in. It reignited the stronger feelings he thought he'd got to dissipate. If you didn’t want me, whatever, I’d live, but Ryan, you do want me. I’m not blind. I don’t understand why you’re making this so difficult. Brendon approached this so uniquely; he'd never been rejected, or turned down or even considered a second best, as far as Ryan knew, and here it was showing. Not that he was incorrectly entitled or anything. He was absolutely right. Ryan wanted him, wanted everything that could happen between them, wanted what he'd always imagined might be and was now a very real possibility if only he'd ignore his fears for once.

Clearly exasperated by his first experience of the word 'no' (or more accurately, 'maybe not') Brendon was standing again, looking torn apart by the circumstances. Ryan finally took his eyes off of him and instead let them fall to the floor, knowing this was his home but feeling weirdly unwelcome, unfamiliar. Ryan. Ryan, fuck- you’re gorgeous, you look so fucking good, you’re all I’ve been thinking about for the past week, I miss you. Again. Those words were all he'd ever dreamed about since meeting Brendon. He kept his gaze determinedly fixed to the hardwood, feeling his heart more rapidly, willing himself not to react so strongly to Brendon. It'd been so much time since they even touched, and now he felt like they were worlds away despite Brendon being just within reach, god.

Fuck finding better. You’re the only person I’ve ever genuinely wanted to date, and- you won’t even believe me, what’s the point? Ryan looked up again, at how hopeless he looked, how broken he was by a perceived rejection, and. This wasn't what he wanted. Ryan stood and carefully wrapped an arm around him, trying to coax his arms down and turn him until they faced each other. He'd said all the right things, sounded so sure and so oddly romantic for him, and Ryan knew there was nothing he could say in turn to make up for his own anxiety ruining things, so. He searched Brendon's face for a moment, wishing he had all the right words for 'sorry,' and ended up just leaning in, kissing Brendon only one fair count of Mississippi in case that was no longer welcome. He kept himself mostly detached otherwise, afraid maybe he'd pushed Brendon too much. "You're full of surprises, you know that," he said softly, fixing his attention lower at Brendon's shoulder after a moment. "I'm sorry, I just... I never thought you would... I'm sorry. I do, I do want you, I always have."

/ Debatable