Ryan was hungover. Truly and genuinely. He'd been hungover before, of course, but not to this extent - the kind where not even greasy food and painkillers would help, but probably drinking more would. Not like he was going to risk getting drunk [i]again,[/i] though, not after discovering how utterly stupid he became when he was. He woke up without remembering, just feeling a faint ache in his muscles and random pains here and there when he moved, and then, when he rolled his head over, the view of Brendon. He would've actually recoiled considering who he was and what their relationship had entailed up to now, but something about the way he looked... Ryan spent a few extended moments just watching him breathe slowly, the light slowly falling on him as it became brighter in the room, his messy hair curling around his face when it was long enough. Because he felt like his window of time between where he was alone in consciousness and Brendon waking up was closing, he took a chance then, reaching out and ever so gently moving a few strands of hair out of Brendon's face, tucking it behind his ear almost, hovering there for a few moments while his fingers starved to touch more.

And then he realized what he was doing and took his hand back like he'd been burned, facing the ceiling again with wide eyes and clutching his hand with the other against his chest. Ryan stared up above for a few seconds, wondering what the hell to do, what had he [i]done,[/i] and memories started flooding back. He could feel the scars on his back against the sheets, almost painful except sort of intoxicating whenever they stung again, and remembered telling Brendon about how he'd always pictured that, Brendon recreating his imagination for him in what was evidently a detailed picture. The muscles in his arms ached, his hips sore, and though only one faint spot of purple was visible high up on his chest, Ryan suspected he was covered in hickeys. Like a first-time high-schooler. Embarrassing. But what led up to all of this was more important. Ryan remembered Keltie and felt his heart drop, shutting his eyes tight and willing himself to go back to sleep, stay that way forever where he didn't have to deal with the repercussions and didn't have to think about how he'd probably eternally fucked up the comfortable pattern he and Brendon had fallen into before this.

Was it really comfortable, though? Ryan's memory was spotty at best, convoluted at points, but he knew last night he'd had a few moments of weakness, treating Brendon far different from how he ever had before. That was new, and it'd felt... nice, almost. Not comfortable, just because it had been unfamiliar, but he'd liked it, liked to see how he affected him in different ways and liked going slower with someone he'd only ever jumped the gun around. Ryan stopped the drift of his mind and remembered his resolution from last night, how Brendon had talked him off the edge concerning how hopeless his relationship was with Keltie, made him see it all more reasonably. And now, with a panging headache and sore body but at least sober, he knew what he had to do. Ryan very slowly eased up into a sitting position, both because it [i]hurt[/i] and he didn't want to wake Brendon as he looked so peaceful. The light was spilling in now, and Ryan felt too exposed, vulnerable, but he ignored it for the time being, pushing his hand through his hair and trying to orient himself more before he made this final call.

He leaned over, lifting his phone and wishing it was dead so he had an excuse not to have to deal with this now - it was, unfortunately, not. Ryan stared at it for a few moments then turned away from Brendon, his body protesting too much against all of his movements for him to fully leave the room but still not wanting to bother him. Ryan already had so many missed calls from her that all he had to do was click one of the red 'Keltie's on his call history, closing his eyes tightly while he held the phone close to him. A few beats, and he got a voicemail tone. Ryan only heard the automated apology before swearing under his breath and hanging up to try again, gripping his phone more intensely. He almost flinched at the sensation of touch along his back, still sensitive, until he realized it was Brendon, and he exhaled slowly, kind of turning his head to look at him, but not quite. Ryan bit his lip to suppress a hiss when Brendon wrapped himself around his back, bowing his head and shifting closer to him despite every instinct to move away.

He stayed silent, trying to first gauge how Brendon felt, whether this was a cruel gesture or otherwise. [i]Morning, tightass.[/i] He should be annoyed. Ryan knew that, knew how he [i]should[/i] react, but things were somehow different, and Brendon nearly burying his face into Ryan's shoulder wasn't helping how soft he'd suddenly become towards him. [b]"Shouldn't I be saying that to you,"[/b] he replied half-suggestively, their whole 'who's-a-bottom-who's-not' conversation coming back to him. [i]What are you doing? Feeling a little delicate?[/i] Ryan's breath hitched slightly when Brendon's mouth landed on the junction of his neck again, the hand holding his phone dropping to his lap and the other curling around Brendon's head. [i]Didn’t forget about me, did you?[/i] Ryan's voice came out more breathy than anything, head tipped back more against Brendon. [b]"Not like I have much choice. I didn't realize you had fucking [i]claws.[/i]"[/b] Amongst other things. Despite the annoyed response he grinned and looked at Brendon, for once betraying the fact that he was only joking.

With that, Ryan tried to stay true to his resolve and redialed Keltie decisively, raising his phone again. He had bad timing - Brendon was trailing kisses along his neck, up to his jaw, and Ryan had to shut his eyes to stay focused, the hand curled around Brendon's head winding more protectively through his hair. [i]Rude.[/i] He took his hand away, Brendon's kisses becoming too distant but no less affecting. Ryan opted to ignore him in case Keltie picked up before the rings ended. [i]You wake up and you think about her. Flattering.[/i] Third ring. Ryan twisted to look at him testily, pressing his phone against his ear now rather than holding it vaguely close. He almost wanted to correct him, say he was doing this for them, but that sounded like... it was just too much. [i]Are you gonna tell her you prefer sleeping with the person you hate the most rather than her?[/i] Ryan pursed his lips, trying to pull away from him now but slowly, turning from the waist and pressing a hand to his chest. Not fast enough, though. [i]Some boyfriend.[/i] 

Ryan huffed and turned fully around, flipping until he could move over Brendon instead, bracketing his hips with his knees and pressing his free hand to his chest to keep him away from the receiver. [b]"If you don't shut the fuck up- Keltie, baby, good morning,"[/b] he said, voice first irritated and quickly switching to sweet. [i]It's nearly eleven, Ryan,[/i] came the vaguely annoyed voice from the other end, and Ryan knew he wasn't on great terms with her since last night. He blinked down at Brendon, wondering how the hell to approach this. Maybe if he wasn't hungover as hell he'd be more sensitive. For now, though... [b]"Yeah, I - listen, Kelts, I had to leave early, we have this show in Seattle, I should've said something, I know."[/b] She started off with something like [i]then why didn't you,[/i] but Ryan barrelled over it, nervous. [b]"Just, for the past few months, we haven't been our best, and. Last night... I appreciate it, you know, but it was so far off base, I feel like... that was the final straw, you know? I feel like we're both- over it."[/b] [i]Over [/i]what[i]? Are you trying to break up with me over the fucking [/i]phone[i]? Where are you?[/i] Ryan pulled his phone from his ear midway through that, wrapping his hand over the receiver and staring at Brendon helplessly while the full stupidity of what he was doing dawned on him. [b]"Am I still drunk? What the fuck."[/b]