Similarly, Brendon wouldn’t [i]say[/i] he had a [i]type[/i], 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 [i]that,[/i] 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- [i]you’re Brendon Blake, you’re handsome and funny, everyone wants you, you got him into bed in less than twenty minutes-[/i] 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 [i]is he going to kiss me,[/i] and [i]i want him to kiss me,[/i] and [i]kiss him.[/i] But no kiss came, and instead, Ryan just wrapped his hands around Brendon’s. Brendon looked unsure, but said nothing.

[i]No, I don’t know how I feel.[/i] Brendon, taken by a surge of defiance and disappointment, pulled his hands back, drew his legs in, tried to remain at a distance. [b]”Then you don’t feel strongly enough about me.”[/b] [i]But I’ve never seen you like this. I- I can’t believe how far you’ve come.[/i] 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. [i]And if it’s becayse you really feel that way- fuck, Bren, I...[/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. [b]”What do you mean, [i]if?[/i] I’m not fucking lying to you, jesus-”[/b] 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]I don’t want you to change your mind. I haven’t changed mine, but that’s because you’re you.[/i] 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. [i]”But I have changed my mind- for the better. I want to be with you, it’s not- that difficult a concept...”[/i] 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. [b]”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.”[/b] 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. 

[i]And. I don't know, just... you'll realize you can do better, or something. I'm - I'm not ready for that.[/i] 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. [b]”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 [i]finding better.[/i] You’re the only person I’ve ever genuinely wanted to date, and- you won’t even believe me, what’s the point?”[/b]