They were now in constant competition for not just the best vocalist, best guitarist, best lyricist, whatever - sometimes Ryan even got brave and told him he was shit on the piano or came for something else he was obviously masterful at - but also for who could maintain said competition, who could keep the ball rolling on making the other feel badly. Of course they never actually seemed to hurt each others' feelings; maybe in the beginning Ryan could get to Brendon because he hadn't come into the band expecting to be attacked at every turn for no real reason, obviously, so he probably actually took the criticism to heart. Now, though, Brendon's voice was responsible for them selling hundreds of thousands more records in comparison to how much they sold before him, so obviously when Ryan told him he 'couldn't sing for shit, why was he here,' it was completely untrue. Or, when they were selling out shows now rather than just making a reasonable turnout, it became clear that Ryan's constant 'no one likes you, you don't belong here' spiel was bullshit. All of that and more, really - they weren't hurting one another more than petty annoyance.

The push and pull, it seemed like, peaked here, and Ryan was over the moon with joy. Brendon looked like he was ready to snap, shoved to the edge finally, and Ryan couldn't wait for whatever outburst it was to come - or maybe he'd break down rather than out. Either way, definitely a win. Ryan relished in holding the upper hand as long as he could, meeting Brendon's fake as hell smile with a tiny one of his own... difference being that his wasn't really fake or even forced. [i]Maybe you just want it to be.[/i] [b]"Ouch,"[/b] he returned sarcastically, crossing his arms with them newly freed by Jon. Either Brendon was running out of material or Ryan had actually gotten to him. That was the ultimate goal in these typical confrontations, anyway - see who could get under whose skin most effectively and most quickly. Spencer seemed like he wanted to disrupt that contest before it got too catastrophic, but of course he had no idea how, so instead Ryan bore with the feeling of his tired eyes stuck on him from the lounge couch.

Ryan subtly alluded to the subtext they never seemed to want to talk about, feeling more bold now that his girlfriend was halfway across the bus examining the bunks alongside Jon with genuine interest. Brendon, though, looked more at ease, and as a clear result, Ryan was almost unsettled, regarding him more carefully as if he were a ticking time bomb. [i]You’d like that, wouldn’t you?[/i] There it was. The change in his tone, the words themselves, Brendon biting his lip when Ryan [i]definitely[/i] had a thing for his mouth in general - undoubtedly a deadly cocktail. Ryan hated him because he probably knew it, too. Ryan's face changed for a discernible moment, eyebrows going slack and smug smile fading slightly, and he had no idea what to say to that other than something stupid and dismissive that would hold no power. Fuck. He paused, then heard Keltie's voice faint from across the bus, saw Spencer taking his cue to leave from the corner of his eye, and came back to reality, scowling at Brendon again. Not as good as looking self-satisfied, but he couldn't muster it back up.

He rendered Brendon speechless next, evidenced by the way he grew quiet again and then actually got up. Wow, it was rare Ryan could actually argue him out of a room this quickly. The smirk came back, thank god, and he watched him intently, a gleam in his eyes. Brendon came too close but Ryan focused on him even as they brushed against one another, turning his shoulder as if he were affronted and then his entire body to watch him exit. Unfortunately, Brendon stopped at the door, and Ryan's only comfort was the fact that he had to actually look up to meet his gaze. [i]Seeing as you’re so concerned, maybe I’ll start dating. Not like I don’t have options.[/i] A confusing slew of emotions followed that. Something like 'oh shit nononono' passed through his head, and Ryan made a point to ignore it, immediately making a flippant 'tch' sound and shrugging one shoulder. [i]Have fun with your girlfriend, dickhead.[/i]

Almost reflexively, Ryan grabbed his arm, barely in control of the way his hand shot out on a hair trigger. And then, not expecting his body's instinct reaction to seeing arch-enemy-frontman, he wasn't sure whether to pull him back fully into the bus or push him the rest of the way through the door, so Ryan went with the easiest option; he shoved him out and followed closely, the death vice on his arm serving to keep him steady and relatively balanced all the same. There was really no point in switching from in to out, but. If he was leaving anyway, Ryan was going to prolong the exit, not let him have the last word. [b]"Oh, yeah? What are your options? You gonna pay someone?"[/b] One corner of his mouth lifted, amused by the thought, and he took his hand away to cross his arms over his chest as if thoughtful. [b]"It's not like anyone would stick around for [i]free[/i], obviously. There's not much to redeem all of -"[/b] Ryan nodded at him up and down, insinuating. [b]"- [i]this.[/i] Oh, and, you know, the emotional baggage of you being obsessed with your guitarist even though he's got a girlfriend. Not sure anyone would want to be with that."[/b]