Many would find it easy to jump at the opportunity of taking Brendon's monetary offer and rolling with it, a get out of jail free card. He was certainly something of a blessing, conveniently generous in Ryan's biggest time of need, but Ryan honestly just... couldn't do that. He had to earn it himself - the furthest he'd go was maybe accepting the help with an extremely strict repayment deadline, because, sure, if he was getting that much closer to his eviction date and he still had nothing solid to give to his landlady, maybe he'd take Brendon up on his strangely forward kindness. But right now he was already drowning anyway. If it was the three months' rent that Brendon helped with, there, that was one thing, but he feared it spiralling into other problems - in Ryan's worried fantasy, he believed he could grow complacent concerning all of his other bills, too, and start accepting help on all ends. He wasn't a charity, and he didn't need anyone feeling bad for him; that was final.

But it was harder to say that when it didn't seem at all like Brendon just felt bad for him. Brendon knew [i]nothing[/i] about him, practically, even if he knew slightly more than Ryan was able to eke out of him at this point. Rather, Brendon's kindness just seemed to come from a genuine place, and Ryan couldn't comprehend that. In fairness he had made that weird God comment earlier, whatever it was - '[i]God spent extra time on you[/i]'? It was so, so sweet, something he was entirely not used to at all, and if Brendon was the type of person to say that then seconds later offer up his assistance in answer to a one-grand-plus debt, maybe he was strongly religious. Ryan respected that, really, he did, just couldn't relate, and therefore it was harder to believe he was serious. He was nothing if not the most honest looking person Ryan had ever seen, though, so it's not like he was suspicious about the matter. Just so... bizarre. Ryan wasn't judging. He'd been considered pretty freaky all his life, so. May as well give Brendon the benefit of the doubt.

[i]If I move in here, consider it my debt, too.[/i] He made it seem like the simplest thing in the world. The table wasn't big, but it still put more distance between them than there was while standing, and Ryan mourned it. Brendon acting so nonchalant about one of the hugest sources of stress in Ryan's life was just... it made him want to calm down, too, made him feel like he had when they shook hands in greeting, and it was just a taste of the same thing but left him wanting to move inches away again. Man- maybe Brendon wasn't the weird one. Ryan was the touch-starved freakshow who wouldn't give him any space, apparently. He lowered his gaze, self-conscious, and didn't argue even though he would probably never, ever consider it Brendon's debt as well. He hadn't made the mistake of prioritizing his bills like Ryan had, hadn't forgotten to factor in the unexpected medical bills, so forth; he shouldn't be the one punished. [i]Whatever you say. It’s really not a problem.[/i] Ryan was grateful, really, but he was this close to telling Brendon to back off about it (when that was the farthest thing from what he wanted his new guest to do, actually). So he moved on.

He noticed Brendon had another funny quirk - he sort of mirrored Ryan, at times. When Ryan tried for his first genuine smile in a long time, Brendon almost instantly picked up on it, and Ryan decided he liked how his potential new roommate wore it better. He was a little stunned, actually, how it added to his sort of fuzzy-at-the-edges, glowing mystique, probably something Ryan was making up because he was so easily taken by attractiveness, as was becoming evident to him. He'd never experienced it like that. And he [i]still[/i] barely knew the guy, fuck, he really should've considered how lonely he was before inviting people around expecting to act like a normal person. [i]I like that. You can call me whatever you like.[/i] Well, he was messing with him, but alright - and if this meant Brendon was going to call him Ry... very nice. He liked the way his name sounded coming from him, particularly the nickname he'd forgotten anyone ever used with him. He nodded slightly, at this point smiling consciously to avoid killing the good-natured air about them but still appreciative nonetheless.

Predictably Brendon's laugh, modest and in response to his comments in regard to Brendon's job, was just as disarming as everything else about him. Ryan blinked, endeared by the way the rest of his face became animated with it, the squint of his eyes and the light in his smile. His chest, always hollow and vaguely wistful, felt a little warm, like he'd seen an old friend or something along those lines, and he mentally chided himself for his dramatics. [i]Thank you, but if it were based purely on looks, you’d be as well off as me.[/i] Was this total altar boy [i]flirting[/i] with him? Ryan sat back, regarding him with something like surprise, and pursed his lips tightly before they could betray him into a smile. This was just... a lot. [b]"That's..."[/b] He trailed off and was startled by himself - he hadn't been rendered speechless in a long time. Not much moved him these days, not in any direction. And he wasn't very good at saying thank you, either, so he struggled for a moment before landing on it, his tone quieter. [b]"Thanks, I don't hear that very much."[/b] Why not just say thanks? Christ. Actually he was adding a lot of unnecessary details with little prompting here - he still wasn't sure whether it was Brendon or if he was just off his game today. Whatever it was, he didn't know how to feel about it.

Because apparently every force within Ryan gravitated towards him and made subconscious changes to accomodate him, Ryan tried to learn as much as he could. [i]I came from up north -[/i] Ryan's eyes drifted to his drumming fingers and wondered if that was a nervous tic, was he nervous, was this a difficult topic [i]-to get away from my dad. He’s really controlling, y’know?[/i] Ryan's face had grown carefully blank and he nodded slightly, reserved but understandingly, searching Brendon for a sign of his content countenance breaking. He [i]really[/i] didn't want to see that happen, if it ever did, so he figured he wasn't going to push on this subject for his own gain. [i]Sometimes it’s better to be by yourself. Well. Away from family, anyway. You don’t get to pick your family, so you get what you’re given. And it doesn’t work out for everyone.[/i] Fuck, Ryan knew, knew better than anyone, and he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, his own nervous habit. Brendon's gaze had fallen to the floor but Ryan still nodded sympathetically, leaning closer to the table again and looking attentive. He could listen to the guy speak for hours, even though he really didn't have that kind of time on his hands.

[i]Oh, and- I sing.[/i] A pause, then Ryan smiled a little, amused by how fast he jumped between subjects. [b]"I'd love to hear sometime. I play some guitar, when I can find the time,"[/b] he said, trying to ground Brendon again after he'd detailed a little of his life and it didn't seem all sunshine and daisies. Now that he mentioned it, he could kind of tell Brendon was a singer, that distinctive controlled way he spoke and the levels to his voice he was sure would be there if he tried building notes. Ryan himself hadn't touched his guitar more than maybe three times since he'd graduated high school. It was such a neglected hobby of his that he was afraid he was no good at it anymore, all of his bragging rights squandered. In fact, maybe he shouldn't've mentioned it at all if he'd just lost the ability. [b]"I'm sorry about your dad."[/b] He stopped, thinking, and it was his turn to let his attention fall, back to a bit of chipped wood at the table. He picked at it absently, wondering if this was what oversharing was, but he hadn't even normal-shared anything in, like, ever. He felt a strange sort of kinship with Brendon now that made it seem like he had to comfort him with the knowledge that he understood what he was going through, though.

[b]"I have a... complicated relationship with mine, too. So I know what you mean."[/b] A moment of quiet passed and that was all that he was comfortable saying on the matter, really; it was the most he ever had, actually. He changed his tune, trying to sound more enthused. [b]"The good news is, if you're looking for a found family, Vegas is a fine place to start. Lots of weird characters to make friends with."[/b] He grinned, mostly forced, but it was true - even if he hadn't built up any kind of 'found family' himself. He just imagined other people were living the life of the [i]Friends[/i] cast. [b]"Out of curiosity, are you, like, religious, or something? Not that I mind. I'm more asking for your sake... I don't know how, um, open-minded you are."[/b] Hint hint, I'm a heathen, I have no virtues, whatever. It's not like he did anything seriously unacceptable. He was too broke to afford weed anymore and that was about as scandalous as it got, so.