Brendon had actually intended, after sating whatever embarrassing thirst that apparently could never be fully quenched and kissing Ryan until he couldn’t, to detach himself from Ryan, untangle their limbs and fingers from hair and his mouth from Ryan’s lips, or his skin, the faint bruise starting to form on Ryan’s neck- and for a moment after he stepped away, all smug like, it looked like he was going to succeed. Brendon wanted to be the winner, he wanted to seize control of this entire situation. He already had the advantage in that Ryan had literally flown across the country to his hotel room and kissed him with prompting so aggressive and vague it couldn’t possibly be excused as entrapment. Sauntering back across his hotel room after leaving Ryan standing there, grasping at nothing, anger and frustration stiffening his posture and creasing his face, Brendon was fully ready to turn in for the night and leave his guitarist standing there breathing pathetically hard- but apparently, everything aside from the common sense part of his brain wanted otherwise. He paused for only a split second in the doorway as he turned, and Ryan was there, shoving him back with considerable force considering how goddamn skinny he was and giving Ryan no time to react or resist.

He was trapped against the edge of the bed and the tension between them, however high it had been before, rocketed and Brendon found himself quickly dropping the smug, in-control countenance in favour for what was most likely his only entirely genuine reaction. His hasty nod was obedient, embarrassingly so, but Brendon couldn’t bring himself to actually duck out of Ryan’s grasp or actually tell him to piss off, because he wanted him and suddenly Brendon’s evening had a goal. But then, Ryan was grinning, smug and ripe with mockery, and Brendon felt another surge of defiance, speaking out in his frustration but not getting very far because Ryan decided he’d heard enough and dragged him in to continue their one long, broken kiss, letting his eyes flutter shut acceptingly and resigning- no, warming up to- the idea that he maybe wouldn’t be sleeping alone. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself there, but something about the way they fit so ironically together and seemed so physically in tune despite the bad blood was intoxicating  and Brendon could hear his own heart hammering in his chest as his brain switched off for a second and he relied entirely on instinct and heat to fist a hand into Ryan’s shirt and drag him with him as he moved fully back onto the bed.

He started to follow his impulses and not think about tactics or power play- and his first was to move a hand to the exposed skin between Ryan’s jeans and his shirt, trace his fingers along the area and then move his hand underneath his shirt and push it up towards his sternum, exploring the area like it was simultaneously the first and last time, and something told Brendon it would be. So he made the most of the opportunity as Ryan did the same, his hands leisurely and simultaneously urgently exploring Brendon’s sternum and his skin. There was an extended pause between their gradually less frantic string of kisses, though not much space was made between them. Ryan stayed close, speaking against Brendon’s mouth, and his eyelashes fluttered as Ryan’s hands ran with suspicious relative gentleness through his tousled hair. [i]If you wanted to be nice, you would have been there.[/i] Laughing lightly against his bandmates mouth, he went to bite down again on his bottom lip in an attempt to rekindle the fire from moments earlier but Ryan was clearly slowing down. Suspicious, and definitely not yet willing to steady the pace, he made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat, moving a hand to curl tightly around Ryan’s hip, digging his blunt nails in as he waited impatiently for Ryan to get over whatever small breakdown he was having so they could get back to what was really important.

Brendon had latched his mouth back over where the bruise was forming and he let his eyes fall half-shut as he waited for a few heartbeats for Ryan to get back into gear, but he didn’t. Frowning, he wet his lips and collapsed fully against the bed, his back pressed against the sheets. [b]”First of all, you hate my guts, why would I go,”[/b] He pointed out, still breathless, raising a judgemental eyebrow. [b]”Secondly, I wasn’t even invited. Neither was Jon. [i]Jon.[/i] What the fuck has Keltie got against Jon? He turning you gay too?”[/b] Okay, so Brendon was attempting to goad and mock him into anger so they could start over and stop Ryan launching into some pity party. Unfortunately for Brendon, it seemed they were all past that point now; Ryan’s kisses had become more gentle, softer than what Brendon was comfortable with, kisses for a lover that he hated but they were the only kisses where he noted exactly what kissing him was [i]like,[/i] how soft his lips were, what he tasted like. Quickly dispelling his fascination, he frowned as Ryan moved and kissed along the side of his mouth off towards the side of his face and half-heartedly cling onto Ryan’s hips.

[i]I still have a girlfriend.[/i] Brendon closed his eyes. Maybe a few short minutes ago he’d have expected this from Ryan, but in the midst of angry passion, seemingly mindless intensity, it came as something of a shock. Ryan looked like he was just recalling his relationship status, and Brendon was, too, suddenly belatedly remembering that Ryan and Keltie were still together. Great. He said nothing as Ryan pushed himself up a little, just eyed him flatly, considering that he was actually pretty annoyed that Ryan’s thoughts were anything but about him in those particular moments. [b]”Uh-huh.”[/b] He looked sullen, and he was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling and that sheen of sweat shining under the dim light. [i]Barely. But.[/i] He bared his teeth in a sneer, suddenly vindictive and stupidly [i]jealous[/i] because yeah, Ryan had a girlfriend, probably not for much longer at all but he still [i]had[/i] one. Brendon had almost intended to kiss away her memory from his mouth, and he’d failed. Annoyed with himself, and with Ryan, he surged upwards suddenly and drew back away from Ryan to the other end of the bed, his chest still heaving as he wiped the back of his hand over his reddened mouth.

[b]”You’re really something,”[/b] Brendon murmured, and he didn’t mean it as a compliment, just folded his arms loosely and almost defensively over his chest, trying not to stare at Ryan’s mouth and long too much and/or too obviously that he was kissing him again, Keltie wasn’t in the picture. [b]”You can’t go all righteous now. Not like you can take any of that away.”[/b] The words coming out of his mouth, the vindictiveness and selfishness- it wasn’t Brendon, not really. He just really, really wanted to keep kissing him, and at this point it was more than just an outlet for anger. It was an outlet for the lustful subtext they’d had going on basically since they met. [b]”Look, whatever. Go back to your girlfriend, play happy families with her for a bit.”[/b] A sullen pause, followed by a gradually appearing smirk as he lost the energy to sit up and rested back against the bed, leaning onto his elbows and looking equally nonchalant and seductive. [b]”Do you think she’s better than me, Ryan?”[/b] Anything for a reaction at this point, he thought, feeling his hands twitch because he wanted them back in Ryan’s hair and at the back of his neck and curled around his waist.