Brendon wasn’t sure exactly what happened between now and last night that allowed him to not just tolerate Ryan’s presence, but in fact enjoy being this close to him, but he wasn’t complaining. Well. The obvious answer to that question was staring him right in the face- they’d slept together, maybe they were still basking in the afterglow, too relaxed and satisfied to go at eachother’s throats right away- but for some reason, he couldn’t put it just down to that, Brendon had slept with a good number of different people and that didn’t make him want to spend the entire day in bed with them just lounging around, all gentle touches and languid stretches- Ryan had done that to him, and it was even more bizarre than it would be with some stranger because he [i]hated[/i] Ryan. Or so he told himself. Thinking about it now, pressed against Ryan’s back and then pulling away slightly to entertain himself by dragging his blunt nails gently down the sensitive, sore skin, trying to coax a reaction, he couldn’t even bring himself to hate him then. Usually, just his name set Brendon off, ruined his mood. Now, curled up against him in the strange hotel limbo, all he felt was a rush of unfamiliar affection.

It was unusual, but not in a bad way- strange, but not uncomfortable, and when he let his hands uncurl from claws and flatten against the small of his back, and moved them along to hold tight onto his hips, the low, gentle sound that Ryan made had Brendon’s eyelashes fluttering, trying to dispel distracting images and sounds from the night previous. Embarassing. [i]You’re corny as fuck.[/i] Was Ryan- laughing at him? Brendon, not wanting a bruised ego and definitely not prepared to take any shit (however serious or lightheaded it was in nature) from Ryan of all people, clenched his jaw, prepared to argue- [i]you can’t call me corny, you flew across the country to tell me you wanted me,[/i] or [i]don’t take that tone with me, I literally sucked tour dick and don’t deserve this kind of treatment.[/i] Thankfully, before he could launch into some bitter tangent, Ryan’s genuine, soft laughter lulled him away from the temptation of jumping the gun and to conclusions. This was helped by Ryan’s long fingers toying absently in his hair- Brendon found it difficult to be mad when Ryan was treating him with such gentleness. It was alien, and wonderful, and Brendon decided he never really wanted to leave Seattle, this hotel room, Ryan’s side. Though maybe that was just momentary, whimsical fantasy.

When Ryan flipped them into a position where he could straddle Brendon in order to keep him restrained, he was disappointed, because though it was a similar picture to the one featuring in the permanent montage of images flashing through his mind, this recreation was chaste, though not exactly innocent, and the fact that Ryan had his phone in one hand and was now talking to Keltie was a real mood-killer. It got even worse when the pet name that Ryan used for his girlfriend (ex-girlfriend? The lines were so blurred that Brendon had stopped bothering to keep up until now, where it was very important)- Brendon had bit down hard on his lip until it bled and then let his lips part with something akin to surprise, even betrayal, even though he knew Ryan didn’t [i]owe[/i] him anything- he just felt cheap and dirty trapped beneath someone potentially about to rekindle a relationship with someone [i]else[/i] in the same breath that he’d laughed at Brendon with gentle amusement, exhaled a satisfied sigh at his touch. He wasn’t saying that he wanted to be in a relationship with Ryan, or anything. But it stung, and obviously it showed on his face, because Ryan was drawing his thumb reassuringly across Brendon’s chest as if to try and soothe the hurt, lessen the blow. He remained this sullen until the first signs showed that Ryan didn’t intend to keep going with Keltie.

Typically, Brendon went from cold to hot in a matter of seconds- his mood tended to change as unpredictably as the weather, and sometimes just as harshly. He felt comfortable enough to comment about how this method of breaking up with someone was thoughtless and distant, leaving no room for genuine conversation, just causing hurt and confusion for the other party. Brendon honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. It just meant he got Ryan all to himself, at least for a little while, and he didn’t have to worry about being called a homewrecker. Ryan and Keltie’s relationship had been on the way out anyway, he told himself. He was in the clear. He continued to be irritating, egged on the more Ryan sent him silent but genuine threats, intending to speak even louder but cut off when Ryan wisely moved a hand to clamp over his mouth. Brendon’s eyebrows shot up but he stilled, made placid by the silencing gesture. Not for long, though- Ryan only covered his mouth for a second and when he pulled his hand away, Brendon sprung back into action, hand searching for the sharp angle of his hip and the other folded comfortably behind his head, fingers toying with his own hair. Unfurling that arm after a moment, he half-heartedly swiped for Ryan’s phone in vain. 

Brendon swatted out randomly in the hope to grab on to Ryan’s phone again, but failed, his coordination apparently completely off. [i]Fuck off.[/i] [b]”Fuck you,”[/b] He replied lazily. How was Ryan besting him here? He’d drunk so much last night he was probably still intoxicated right now- he questioned his sobriety himself. Well, James Blake seemingly raised a quitter, and Brendon dropped his arms back down, defeated, but returning Ryan’s grin as he watched him bring his phone back to his ear and uncover the receiver. [i]I'm in Seattle, in a hotel. No - don't come, just.[/i] [b]”’Cause he has sex hair, god, what a [i]mess,[/i]”[/b] Brendon piped up helpfully, his voice raising towards the end of his sentence. Ryan soldiered on. [i]We can talk more in person later, but I know you're done with this, we've been practically done for months, so. I'm sorry.[/i] Brendon, ever the supportive type, just mouthed a cynical ‘no you’re not’, quirking his mouth up at the corner and breathing out a laugh as Ryan covered the receiver yet again. 

[i]This happens, like, every night.[/i] Brendon winced and whistled, turning that over in his mind, feeling a rare rush of sympathy. But mostly amusement at Ryan’s misfortune. [b]”I don’t get why you didn’t just break it off earlier,”[/b] He admitted, mostly as an afterthought- Ryan had said himself that they’d practically been done for months. Why stay in a joyless relationship? Brendon smiled cynically to himself, as if he knew he’d be eating his words sometime in the future. [i]Wanna order room service? My treat.[/i] Was that even a question? Brendon propped himself up on his elbows and arched himself up a little so he could plant a few aimed kisses at the junction between Ryan’s neck and jawbone. [b]”Thought you’d never ask, baby.”[/b] Uh-Oh. That was meant to stay private, in his head. Panic alarm going off, Brendon stumbled on, drawing Ryan closer by the back of his neck, fingers curling gently in the longer locks of his hair as he spoke softly into his ear. [b]”Though I did already have breakfast planned.”[/b]