Ryan's house wasn't originally [i]intended[/i] to hide as many rooms as he ended up concealing, but it did; in the first place he'd only purchased it in such an expansive size because he was young and ridiculous and he could afford it anyway. Now, he wished he lived in a smaller, even miniscule place, but there were upsides that bode well with his personality. Some spaces needed to feel distant and far away from his daily life, enough so that they felt like escapist realms where he could be creative and free from  his usual restraint. His study was put away in a secluded hallway he rarely ventured into unless it was specifically for the purpose of writing something nostalgic, something that needed him to delve into some state of mind very different from the norm. He had a studio he rarely visited these days but it basically took up a whole other floor, an underground in itself, and it was locked away in what was virtually a completely separate mindspace. Ryan was a thinker, first and foremost, and his thoughts took up a strange amount of physical space in his home.

So it explained why a lot of his home was sectioned off from Brendon. Still. When Brendon was now supposed to be part of his thought process, and was far more than just a guest or regular visitor, he should probably be welcome to these spaces. Apparently Brendon had other complaints, though. [i]Hosts are supposed to be fuckin’ [/i]polite.[i] Therefore, offer. You’re the worst host ever.[/i] A brazen thing to say when said host was allowing Brendon to take anything he wanted at any given time, but he supposed he understood why Brendon was now off on a drunken tangent when he'd been upset about a 'secret room' in the first place. If he'd been feeling particularly edgy he'd have lit up then and there and offered Brendon a smoke on the spot, but he wasn't, and besides he preferred this room of all rooms to remain smelling clean, so. Ryan just rolled his eyes at the accusations and moved along. [i]That would’ve made it easier, yeah.[/i] He observed the manner with which Brendon sat, all casual, and grinned at Ryan cheekily, so clearly he wasn't taking any of this very seriously. Made sense.

It was a little startling, the way Brendon sort of stared back at him once he went for a direct approach, and Ryan almost couldn't maintain his gaze - until it seemed like Brendon was giving in himself, looking away. [i]I mean- it's not the entire house if you keep me locked out of two rooms.[/i] Ryan raised an eyebrow, registering Brendon's smirk and that 'two rooms' implication with slight worry. So he knew more than Ryan thought he did. That was a little concerning. Without commenting on that directly, Ryan urged him to sit down, and Brendon seemed to do so thoughtlessly. Ryan was a little surprised at the command he was apparently able to take. [i]Check you out. Top fuckin’ energy.[/i] Ryan's brow furrowed while he tried to piece whatever that meant out - but then he knew what 'top' meant, and could assume what it meant alongside 'energy,' so. He winced a little in the face of Brendon's suggestive smirk.

[i]You’re hot when you’re mad.[/i] Ryan actually couldn't take that super casually. He blinked a few times quickly again, mouth hanging open slightly for a moment. [b]"Well, I'm not [i]mad,[/i]"[/b] he said, defenseless, and with lack of a better argument. The only thing better on his mind was, like, 'shut up,' and that didn't really work. Brendon being so [i]forward[/i] was - well, he wasn't unused to it, but usually it didn't come out like this in a way that left him pretty much speechless. And it was making his tiny crush even harder to ignore, thanks. He crossed his arms over his chest tight, uncertain, and tried to move on fast - and registered with something like glee that he could be the one to catch Brendon off guard this time, calling him on the alcohol he'd been taking. [i]It’d be my pleasure.[/i] Ryan looked at him for a long moment, wondering how he lived this long not murdered by Spencer while being such a little shit, then sighed inwardly, giving up. 

Abruptly, Ryan turned around, taking a chair from the edge of the room and pulling it up close to the edge of the desk. He hugged the back of the chair to his chest, holding the bottle he'd taken from Brendon before his face and considering it momentarily before drinking from it. Yeah, still not a fan. He pushed it back across the desk, looking bored. With what Brendon had already clearly been comfortable enough to say to Ryan it was probably a bad idea letting him have his drink back after all, but. This was better than him stealing it again later, passing out someplace random in the house where Ryan would have to find him again. [b]"So you know about two rooms. I take it you couldn't figure out how to get into the studio?"[/b] At this point it didn't really matter that he knew. He'd probably get a way in somehow if he didn't just endlessly pester Ryan about it. [b]"That's a shame. You'd probably really like it."[/b] A pause. Ryan decided to mess with him a little. [b]"And I'd probably have shown you if you didn't already disrespect all my boundaries. Sucks."[/b] He tapped on the desk, looking forlorn for Brendon's sake.