Somewhere in his head, somehow, Brendon had known, since he opened the door and Ryan immediately weaved around him to get inside, exactly what Ryan was there for. Exactly what he wanted, even subconsciously. It was a subtext they didn’t notice, or rather, tried to ignore. And here it was, surfacing fully for the first time- Brendon had touched him along the waist or ran his hands down his chest in the past just to mock him, just to get him wound up, but they’d never- Ryan had never. Brendon was, for a good few seconds, stunned. He knew what Ryan really wanted from him, but whether he’d actually go through with it and take it? That was a different story, and the aggression and forcefulness with which Ryan kissed him caught off guard, not quite throwing him off balance, but certainly changing things around in his head. It did take a few moments for Brendon to process what was happening, decide what action to take (be that shove him off or kiss him back), and then carry out his decision, which in the end was to just as eagerly and heatedly kiss him, blunt fingernails digging into his shirt and chest and clutching at the material to drag him closer, close enough that he forgot that this was an awful idea and instead was fully driven by something other than his head.

He stared at Ryan’s mouth when he pulled back after chasing their kisses for a few embarassing moments, his heart thudding under his chest as he didn’t bother trying to look away, instead almost marvelled at the redness of Ryan’s mouth and wet his own lips again, swallowed, his mouth dry despite everything. Brendon ignored the way Ryan’s expression changed as he leaned in bodily to trace a stripe along his jawbone with his tongue, hoping to coax whatever he could from Ryan’s boring, vanilla ass and satisfy whatever suppressed and undisclosed desires he had swimming around in his head, shut away until now when they were being slowly released, crowding Brendon’s mind, shoving our any remaining common sense. Though Brendon was sort of lost in the moment, he was more in control than Ryan was. It was different, taking the reins- the hatred he had for Ryan meant that he felt some kind of grim satisfaction, a dark triumph, because [i]Ryan[/i] kissed [i]him,[/i] he might’ve been drunk, but it just went to show. That had been what he has wanted for god knows how long. Brendon spoke softly, smug, into his ear, curled a hand around Ryan’s wrist again, reminding him of the moments before any probably reigniting any desire in Ryan to just punch him and be done with it. 

He almost expected Ryan to hit him, he had ever since Ryan got here with his angsty air and his easily aggravated personality. Upset Ryan and intentionally provocative Brendon didn’t mix- and that was saying something, because even normal Ryan and Brendon didn’t mix. Instead, there was a pause, Ryan’s breathing slowed, Brendon’s own chest was heaving up and down, and there was a sheen of sweat over his skin, which was hot to the touch. He looked up, defiant, victorious, at Ryan’s face, grinning at the sheen of his mouth, taking the moment of suspension to meet his eyes and try to figure out what the hell he was thinking about. Not much of an opportunity to think was given to either of them, though, because Ryan was kissing him mindlessly again, and Brendon welcomed it, moving one hand to hang onto the neckline of his shirt, pulling him down, and curling the nails of his other hand into Ryan’s corresponding hip. Apparently Ryan had the same idea, but he expressed it borderline [i]viciously- [/i]In seconds, his hands were in Brendon’s hair, pulling hard, and Brendon made a soft, strangled noise in the base of his throat, pressing his hips against Ryan’s just as Ryan pressed a hand against the small of his back. 

About to speak up, defend himself and withhold his dignity before he became the submissive mess he tended to quickly morph into no matter how confidently he started, Ryan interrupted his train of thought by biting into his bottom lip and Brendon had to choke back some kind of juvenile groan, lifting the hand at Ryan’s hip up and curling it roughly around the back of his neck, attempting to press even closer when it was literally impossible, but it was like Brendon was starving and it was [i]embarrassing[/i] but he found comfort in knowing that this wasn’t one-sided. Brendon heard the noises he was trying to suppress- he wasn’t easy to fool, nobody was, in such an intimate situation. Brendon was close to regaining control and pulling back, aiming to leave him hanging, but Ryan was talking against his mouth and he had to pause to listen, or try to, over the sound of his own breathing. [i]Like this is [/i]my [i]fault.[/i] Honestly, he didn’t particularly care whose fault it was at this point, but he sneered, the competitive streak strong, especially against Ryan. [b]”Can I remind you,”[/b] He bit back, twisting the fingers he had around the back of Ryan’s neck into the longer locks of his hair, [b]”That [i]you[/i] kissed [i]me?”[/i][/b] And he wasn’t lying. Sure, Brendon had arguably done everything in his power to lead him to this action, but who initiated? Ryan. He’d hold that above him until the end of time.

[i]You’ve been begging for it since we met. I’m not fucking[/i] blind. [b]”You saying you haven’t? You’d do anything to have me, wouldn’t you? Want me so bad.”[/b] A scornful pause, a seconds-long sneer, and Brendon cut through the limbo and used both of his hands to fist into the front of his shirt yet again, pulling him down closer, slipping his tongue into his mouth and freeing one hand to curl around his jaw, letting his eyes fall shut as he tried to dispel every last lustful thought from him with a long, lecherous kiss, so he could step away with no problems. And after a few long counts of Mississippi, he pulled back, untangled his hands from his shirt and hair. Brendon stepped away, breathing hard. He ran a hand automatically through his hair and let the corner of his mouth quirk up into a smirk. [b]”Happy birthday.”[/b] Feeling like he’d suitably triumphed, he turned around easily, though his breathing was still slow and laboured, his heart thudding away at speed. Once he was a distance across the room from Ryan, hanging onto the doorframe to the bedroom, he paused as if considering turning around. But he used every ounce of common sense he had and decided that letting him stay there, unsatisfied, in the living room would be much more satisfying for Brendon in the end.