Maybe if Ryan hadn't known Brendon before, when he was so emotionally closed off and unaccepting of anything that came close to romantic intimacy, he wouldn't be so patient with him whenever he did things like this. But he did - he'd gone through the pain of believing Brendon could never like him back the same way, and when he pushed past the initial phase where he was afraid to even touch him, he'd done the whole routine where he scrambled out of his bed in the mornings before Brendon could kick him out first. It'd been rough, and now he tried to stick it out as much as he could when Brendon was still showing signs of adjustment these days. Plus, it's not like Ryan didn't have his own moments. He was critical and overbearing and generally hard to be around sometimes - [i]a lot[/i] of times - and Brendon rarely said a thing about it or gave him flak otherwise. Ryan knew him well enough not to be put off by his sometimes troublesome behavior, and Brendon was understanding enough not to take his bad moods to heart. They were on the same level, then.

Trying to act authoritative to win his attention over [i]seemed[/i] to work for a moment, where Brendon just gazed back at him with a careful look, but then he was shaking his head stubbornly. Either way, it didn't matter much, because Ryan successfully undid the clasps on his sleeve with the bare minimum protest. [i]I know what you’re trying to do.[/i] Ryan smiled to himself, amused, as he reached over to access Brendon's other sleeve, a steadying hand on his opposing shoulder to keep him still. [b]"Oh, yeah? What's that?"[/b] he asked, humoring him. [i]You’re trying to exploit whatever [/i]power [i]you think you have over me.[/i] Ryan narrowed his eyes at him, trying to understand exactly how that thought came to his head, how that could possibly seem like a feasible conclusion to come to. [i]Well, for your fucking information, I wouldn’t do anything you asked me to if you paid me. The idea repulses me.[/i] [b]"Brendon, what power am I supposed to have over you that I could exploit? [i]You[/i] pay [i]me.[/i] I'd say that puts you a few steps ahead of me."[/b]

He was half-grinning again when he pulled a whiny Brendon closer, shaking his head somewhat. [i]No.[/i] [b]"Yes."[/b] But he didn't actually force the medicine on him just yet. He could probably get him to relent when he was more half-asleep. Ryan caught the defiance in Brendon face while he watched him undo his shirt buttons and knew what wild thoughts were running amuck in his mind, no question about it. He tried to quell whatever ideas Brendon was getting before they went too far and it seemed to work; he removed the shirt without complaint, tossing it aside carelessly. Unfortunately, though, it didn't seem to help how he felt about Ryan at the moment, because after lying there resignedly for a few moments, he was pressing his foot against Ryan's chest to get him away. In turn, Ryan hung onto his ankle, laughing a little bit at his meager attempt to remove all company. [i]Leave me alone.[/i] Brendon folded his arms behind his head and let up, so Ryan moved entirely onto the mattress rather than just sitting on the edge, criss-cross and letting his knuckles trail back and forth along Brendon's knee. 

He didn't leave him alone, in the end, just posed a more genuine question, a little affected. When Brendon sat up and regarded him more seriously he straightened, trying to match his position, level out. [i]If I knew you were fuckin’- gonna be such an ass about everything, fuck off home, I wouldn’t have bothered.[/i] Ryan's face went a little flat, feeling the slight guilt again, and he ducked his head to watch while he twisted his fingers until his knuckles turned white. [i]I missed you, and I just wanted you to be here, and you- you couldn’t even be bothered to tell me you went home instead.[/i] Ryan inhaled slowly, exhaled in an almost-sigh, watching how unhappy Brendon looked and feeling his heart sink. [b]"I'm sorry, baby,"[/b] he said softly, reaching out to him and letting his hand drop against the sheets while Brendon stood. It's not like he could repeat the sentiment of him not knowing again, argue that he thought he'd been dismissed anyway again, so he let it be, chewing his lip while he watched Brendon stumble.

Ryan would be amused watching him struggle to pick up after himself, then nearly fall into his wardrobe, but. Nothing was really that funny now, with Brendon genuinely sad, hurt, rather than drunkenly upset. There was a difference now, even if he was still unmistakably wasted. [i]It’s not like I didn’t care about the date. I got that suit just for it. I thought you’d like it.[/i] Ugh. Even such a tiny thing made Ryan hurt with him. [i]I just- whatever. Will you go away now?[/i] Ryan rose, headed to the wardrobe and closing the distance between them again. He fit his hands over Brendon's hips, running his thumbs over the stark line of bone/muscle definition on either side. [b]"I did like it,"[/b] he said, with a tiny smile, trying desperately to get one on Brendon's face. He raised one hand, settled it on the back of Brendon's neck, swaying them a little. [b]"I'm sorry. I should have been here then, but. I'm here now, okay? I just wanna be sure you're all right."[/b] He pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, smoothing strands of hair from his temple, then gestured with a nod at the water on his nightstand. [b]"So I need you to drink some water for me. Yeah? Will you do that?"[/b]