It was sort of funny how much of a different person Ryan became around Brendon. Not really [i]different,[/i] more truthfully, but he became more himself, with less of a front. For example around others he felt the need to put up this semi-aggressive, defensive wall, and push it forward to show that he was assertive, not to be walked over, especially when it came to guarding the people he cared about. With Brendon it wasn't like he couldn't at times be forthright and bold - in fact he was even annoying about it fifty percent of all occasions, because the longer they were together the more he knew his intermittent attitude was not much of a dealbreaker for Brendon - but he just didn't feel the need to be that protective around him. He could be protective [i]of[/i] him with no issue. Really, though, Ryan was more comfortable knowing that Brendon wasn't malicious towards him or looking to 'gain' anything from him in any way more than he was in anyone else. No need to be on edge around him.

Which sometimes meant he forgot boundaries completely and let himself get walked over, and Brendon didn't even mean to do that. It was the combination of Ryan not caring enough to look out for a drawn line and Brendon not knowing, after a lifetime of inexperience, how to remember where other people's priorities might lie and simultaneously take them into account alongside his own, that was deadly. So, ultimately, the issue they always ended up at on nights like these was neither of their faults - just a combination of their collective flaws. Could it be solved with just a little bit of mutual communication? Probably. But Ryan never thought of it or dwelled on it long unless he'd [i]just[/i] suffered the effects of their culminated shortcomings, and he was sure Brendon usually forgot about it all come morning time/if he remembered he wasn't used to talking about anything, anyway. When Ryan had a problem discussing things, well. Safe to say that Brendon had it much, much worse.

Anyway, he wasn't really thinking of fixing it now, either. After all, letting them both pass up the date originally was something of the past, and now all Ryan was focused on was the way he was all but welcomed to leave the party without a second glance. He probably could've fought more to stay or for Brendon to come with him, realistically, but. He still bore his tidbit of anger with pride, regardless. He wore it nonchalantly as ever, though, his mood barely reflected in his voice when he spoke with Brendon, who did not hold any of the same courtesy while drunk. [i]Don’t [/i]hey, b [i]me, dick.[/i] [b]"That's your [i]name[/i], crackhead,"[/b] he instantly told the slurred voice on the other line, kind of smiling against his receiver. He couldn't even be legitimately angry at the way Brendon sounded like that, especially not now that there was an image in his head of the suited playboy disheveled and lost-looking while searching his huge penthouse for a missing boyfriend. He was... sort of ridiculous.

[i]No, [/i]Ryan, [i]I used my fucking psychic powers to notice that you aren’t in my apartment. Yeah, I’m home.[/i] Ryan cracked up as quietly as possible, really just a rush of air escaping from his grin, and his annoyance only existed as a backdrop to his amusement. Before they were officially dating, this was his hell. Now he supposed he was allowed to laugh at Brendon for being absurd and entitled. He played dumb, though, making his voice lighter so it seemed as if he'd been given new information. [b]"Oh."[/b] [i]How was I being an asshole? I told you I didn’t want to go home. I’m allowed to stay out.[/i] [b]"Brendon, you said 'fuck that' when I said we should go, and then you invited me to leave before sharing a laugh with your crew. That was kind of asshole behavior. So I, 'by all means, went home.'"[/b] It was kind of dramatic to quote Brendon when, in this state, he'd likely have no memory of ever saying that to Ryan, particularly when he'd said it in passing in the first place. But Ryan lived for the drama and besides - Brendon wouldn't remember any of this anyway, he was sure, much less this part alone. 

Ryan realised belatedly he was still all in his party gear, fiddled with the jacket he'd relied on ever since receiving one (1) approving comment from Spencer while he halfheartledly listened to Brendon slur on. [i]Y’know, I came back much earlier than usual because I missed you, and you fuck off away from me. Thanks, [/i]baby. Maybe he really had hurt Brendon's feelings. Drunk or not, they mattered to him. So Ryan paused, unable to think of any words in his own defense, and felt a little badly, biting his lip and casting his gaze to the ground. [b]"I didn't think you would-... I'm sorry about that, actually,"[/b] he replied hesitantly, sounding genuine for the first time during the call, his voice softening. He wasn't sure that Brendon [i]actually[/i] cared that much, and maybe it was another instance of drunken clinginess being disrupted superficially, but still. If he was only temporarily hurt, it was still Ryan's responsibility, and he wasn't going to ignore it. He listened to the white noise on Brendon's end become clearer, the telltale sound of his knuckles crackling, and he knew the phone had been switched to speaker.

[i]Yeah, without you.[/i] [b]"Baby,"[/b] Ryan said beneath his words, half-argumentatively, but he didn't have any contest prepared for it. [i]You’d probably know what that was like if you didn’t have a stick so far up your ass.[/i] Ryan pursed his lips, and he knew Brendon was really just talking by now, but. There was some truth to that, honestly. He paused, nearly tried cutting in with something unrelated to divert the topic, but Brendon continued. [i]You know, whatever. I’ll go back out.[/i] Ryan felt a faint sense of panic for whatever reason, and there was none, really, because it's not like him going out again was a bad thing. Not to anyone but his liver, probably. But also he was likely just saying that. Ryan paused again, wondering. [b]"Are you really going back out? You could just - go to bed. I'll come over if you want, you know."[/b] He cringed, anticipating whatever 'why didn't you come over in the first place' or 'fuck off' variation was coming. There was also a 'I'll go back out with you' hanging on his tongue, but he both didn't really want to and knew Brendon was wont to tell him no.