Was it Seattle that held some kind of magic within it that made Brendon and Ryan change like that? Was it really just down to alcohol? Did another year older somehow change his entire mentality? Ryan had no idea why he'd so quickly gone from berating Brendon at every chance he got, attacking any tiny flaw or sign of weakness, to waking up next to him and holding him close, covering every convenient inch of his skin in wisps of kisses and wanting more. And, at the same time, he'd discovered which he preferred - the latter. It sounded obvious, really, because who [i]wanted[/i] to hate and lash out on the constant, but that had become such a comfortable routine between himself and Brendon that he'd never expected anything else to seem appealling. When he learned how Brendon looked after he'd been kissed breathless, suddenly that was so much more beautiful than him looking caught off-guard or frustrated following a comeback. When he learned how he sounded in pleasure rather than in irritation, yeah, the answer was pretty obvious. Ryan knew the kind of turn he'd like their relationship to take, just had no clue how to initiate it or admit it to himself.

So he didn't, on either account. Sometimes he had to force a fight when really he was just frustrated with him[i]self[/i] for wanting to land a kiss or something in front of everyone. And then he denied every thought that came into his head - pretended every impulse to call him a pet name came not from a place of innocence but out of some dumb lust, or any time he caught himself thinking of how stunning Brendon looked he convinced himself it was no-romance, pure wanton. Keeping things mindless, terse, passionate and without explanation or dwelling, was crucial for his sanity - and probably to keep Brendon from never letting him live it down. He had no idea whether they were even close to feeling mutual, actually. If he had to guess, he supposed Brendon was just being strung along at this point. He knew Ryan better than anyone, shockingly enough, and with that in mind, if he had any sort of choice, he wouldn't be participating. Not to get self-deprecating, or anything; Ryan just couldn't come up with any reasonable explanation for the situation they were in.

[i]Oh, please. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have enjoyed the show.[/i] Ryan looked genuinely disgusted, scowling and recoiling. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, shaking his head with disinterest after a moment of recovery from the image that popped forcefully into his head. Yeah, he really would not have. [b]"I'd rather die, thanks."[/b] [i]Besides, we weren’t even[/i] doing [i]anything. Just kissing. You got a problem with me kissing other men, Ryan?[/i] Ryan gazed at him for an extended moment, the heat in his features fading minutely, because he supposed he sort of did have a problem with it and. It wasn't just jealousy out of some sexual possessiveness, whatever. He couldn't handle Brendon potentially starting something... real, with someone else. Granted, with all that he didn't tell Brendon and vowed not to ever, they weren't very real themselves, but still. His imagination ran wild behind the scenes, and someone else stepping into the picture made it harder to pretend, made it harder to see what they could be. Brendon's lips were parted and he knew it wasn't intentionally supposed to affect him, or anything, but Ryan's attention still dropped there, weak. 

'No' was the obvious answer, the higher ground. And Ryan meant to dodge the question by saying that, he really did, but he didn't. [b]"Yeah,"[/b] he said in a more controlled voice, visibly losing tension. [b]"Yeah, I do."[/b] Because he didn't want to look like he was giving in, though, Ryan cocked his head to the side defiantly as an afterthought, shrugging his shoulders in some sort of '[i]and what are you gonna do about it?[/i]' He was confused with even himself, honestly. [i]And you’re being a cockblock, what gives?[/i] Ryan frowned at Brendon's ever colorful vocabulary, shutting his eyes in an effort to maintain what little patience he had on reserve. Brendon was turning already, losing interest, even when Ryan's anger-hurt-whatever was peaking. [b]"What makes you so sure he was gonna put out? Again, it's not like you picked the best venue."[/b] At this point he was picking at crumbs to try and get back at Brendon. He watched him move, studying him at the same time he examined himself in the mirror. Ryan wasn't used to seeing him in this unkempt post-kissing state when he hadn't been the cause- he hated the feeling. He had to glance away, chew his lip while he redirected his attention to the floor.

[i]Yeah. I have. If you have a problem with that, please, by all means, let me know.[/i] Ryan was pretty sure he'd been throwing enough of a hissy fit already, but sure, he could do more. [i]But I have been going to him. He’s good. And- give him a break, you don’t even know the guy.[/i] Ryan scoffed, short and cruel again, shaking his head. [b]"I don't need to know him. I don't need to know anyone to know that they're -"[/b] Not good enough for you? What, like he was? And since when was he allowed to care? Ryan broke off for a second, trying to rephrase. [b]"...not supposed to be with you. What happened to us? Am I [i]boring[/i] you, or something?"[/b] He sounded downright jealous at this point, couldn't help himself anymore. He'd stupidly concluded that they were exclusive, and didn't even clue Brendon in on it. No taking it back now, though.