The longer he was in here, in more than just a vaguely uncomfortable situation, the more Ryan picked up on how revealing Brendon was behaving. He honestly couldn't tell whether this was some kind of drunken change of heart or maybe the alcohol brought out even more boldness than Brendon usually had; whatever the case, he was a little terrified by it. Whenever he spoke he knew the words were in one ear and out the other - Brendon was focused on him half-intently, more specifically, his mouth. Funny. Ryan could relate. In this situation, though, he was the lucky one who could control his gaze somewhat. Or he thought so, anyway. While completely catching Ryan off guard with his very vocal attraction, Brendon wet his lips and did that self-satisfied side smile he wore so well, and Ryan felt himself in trouble again. He forced himself to look at the wall past Brendon momentarily, trying to look less flustered.

[i]If this isn’t [/i]mad... Ryan's fingers loosened easily from around the bottle when Brendon went for it, because at this point it didn't really matter, did it? He dropped his hands to his sides, at a loss. [i]I’d love to see what happens when you are.[/i] Ryan tilted his head back a little, chin rising. He may be more out of his element than ever, but still, the dry humor was alive. He responded with as much. [b]"You'd [i]love to[/i]? Sure, feel free to piss me off,"[/b] he said in an easy tone, his own smirk forming. Mostly 'cause Brendon was such a [i]unique[/i] character. Ryan honestly couldn't understand what the appeal was in being scolded like a kid, which was what he'd come pretty close to doing here. Anyway- Brendon seemed to take the challenge with getting him mad, because with his bottle back, he began acting more reckless, carrying it unsteadily until he could take another drink. Ryan stared at him pointedly, knowing this was more likely than not just another effort to set him off, so he didn't humour it.

In fact, he couldn't be mad when Brendon winked at him like that, but thankfully he could still hide away in his defensive arms-crossed position. A subconscious effort to escape the situation, Ryan downed some of the drink after taking his own seat, scowling but still mostly resigned. Brendon finished all of it and Ryan knew that was a bad idea, letting him have even more although it wouldn't make such a [i]huge[/i] difference, but at this point he was catching him looking him up and down, a step up from just watching his mouth carefully earlier. Ryan had no clue how to fix this issue. It was hypocritical - he himself never gave Brendon a break from being the most attractive person in the world, in his eyes - but at least he wasn't so entirely obvious about it... or he hoped. There was the sane, rational person's way out, where they just address it mutually and maybe consider romance, but that was a horrifying concept for Ryan. No way to go around that while staying anywhere near his comfort zone. Instead, he tried to pick up the slack on letting all of it pass, forcibly ignoring all of Brendon's signals.

Mentioning the studio Brendon had passed up seemed to help the situation, or at least change the topic. [i]Studio? You have a studio?[/i] Maybe 'help' wasn't the wrong word, actually, because now Ryan was fixated on how excited he seemed, endlessly fond of how easily he became enthused by something so simple. But then it made sense - here was someone clearly meant to be a professional musician, someone great, who'd never even had the opportunity to record, and now he'd learned that there was a completed studio a short walk away. Suddenly, all the stress about Brendon getting in here melted away, and he was wearing a tiny smile watching him light up, nodding affirmatively. [i]You’re fuckin’ kidding. Why haven’t you shown me?[/i] Good question. The thought passed through his mind a few times, but he'd always figured a studio tour would also involve an obligatory tour of Ryan's own personal recordings, and he didn't think any of his songs were any good. Yet. Maybe in, like, a million years he'd be improved enough to think it was good enough for Brendon, but now, not so much.

Rather than say that, though, he continued the 'scolding parent' spiel, mostly for his own amusement. He'd probably end up showing Brendon now, anyway, after seeing how happy he got - just with a deal on no playing his own music. [i]How do I make it up to you? What do I have to do?[/i] Ryan already didn't like where this was going, starting to shake his head hesitantly. [i]What do you want? My firstborn? A blowjob? My left arm? You have pretty hands.[/i] Ryan stared at him for a second again, then shoved the heel of his palm into his eye, once again bewildered. First, those were three very different things, where did he think Ryan's priorities lay; second, he'd never received such a weirdly specific compliment before. He didn't [i]dis[/i]like it, but. Brendon was just in such an entirely separate league from his own. He was already speechless, but when his vision came back from the static, he found Brendon with his lip between his teeth and that gleam in his eye still. That, he had no idea how to respond to.

[b]"Um,"[/b] Ryan said sagely after a pause, shaking his head slightly, [b]"I don't - I don't [i]want[/i] anything. You don't have to... all right, I'll make you a deal. If you can walk right now, I'll show you the studio."[/b] Watching Brendon make a fool of himself was much more fun than being rendered speechless, looking like a fish in water, by him. He leaned back with his chin between his fingers, watching Brendon expectantly. Of course he wasn't going to make him walk down there without assistance - but honestly. He needed to get back up a rung after being offered a blowjob, like, fifteen times in three minutes.