At Ryan’s immediate recoil and disdainful, almost sickened scowl, Brendon came to the conclusion that Ryan would really [i]not[/i] enjoy the show. Brendon tilted his head and tried to follow his thought process- he had assumed that Ryan was just had a perpetually high sex drive (definitely not a quality he would have pinned on him before their relationship turned this way), but if he didn’t just want to be a part of it, that meant the common denominator here between his jealousy and his anger was that he wanted Brendon, no one else, and he didn’t want anybody else to have Brendon, either. Curious, and somewhat smug, he watched as Ryan stubbornly folded his arms over his chest. He wasn’t fooling Brendon, who knew he had the advantage here. Ryan was the jealous one. [i]I’d rather die, thanks.[/i] [b]”Hey, your loss,”[/b] Came Brendon’s reply, and he mockingly mirrored Ryan’s defensive stance. [b]”He looks great naked.”[/b] Okay, unnecessary. But the spitefulness that they hadn’t managed to eradicate between them was still a strong driving force, and admittedly, he enjoyed it when Ryan was so frustrated like this. And Brendon could resolve that or make it worse at his own will.

Their relationship had been a rocky one since they met- first very negative for years, with an undercurrent of something else, then that surfaced for the first time properly, like, a month ago and from that, something they didn’t even know existed reared its head, a softness and a gentleness they would have never anticipated feeling for [i]eachother[/i] in a million years. What happened between then, with them calling eachother [i]baby[/i] and curling hands around hips and arms around waists and kissing not to start something but just because kissing was nice and the enjoyed being that close to eachother, without all the heat and anger. Brendon imagined that sleeping with Ryan would be angry, some kind of bitter release, and that when they woke up it would be dispassionate and all the want and desire they ever felt for eachother would be fulfilled, and they’d never have to speak of it again. But no. They felt fulfilled, yes, not only physically but emotionally- Brendon’s relaxation that morning and Ryan’s receptiveness to such tender treatment was alien, unexpected, but welcomed with literal and metaphorical open arms. Brendon had been under the impression that maybe, just maybe, their relationship could grow from this mutual vulnerability into something more stable- what had happened? Brendon supposed old habits died hard, because they were back to fighting over stupid shit the same evening after a show.

Now driven again by the bitterness and spite that had been his main driving factor in his relationship with Ryan before all this, Brendon made a stab at him by accusing him of jealousy, possessiveness. He expected a blatant rejection. [i]Yeah.[/i] He did not expect that, and his mouth quirked, confused more than anything. [i]Yeah, I do.[/i] There was honesty in his tone, and Brendon believed him. He just cynically smiled, not believing that Ryan’s problem was derived from anything but lust and a stupid sense of ownership. [b]”Would you mind telling me why?”[/b] Brendon asked faux-delicately, though it was less of a request and more of a demand in a misleadingly soft, gentle voice. They could have got somewhere, then, but Brendon had to run his big mouth and be all typically vulgar and childish. Ryan wasn’t impressed- he never was. Brendon had given up trying. [i]What makes you so sure he was gonna put out?[/i] A pause, and a smirk slowly crept up at the corner of his mouth as he let out a breathy, almost exasperated but pleased exhale, turning around to station himself in front of a mirror and fix his reflection.

His eyes fixed the reflection of Ryan’s in the mirror as he moved his fingers deftly to fix his collar and then straighten himself out fully. [b]”Have you [i]seen[/i] me?”[/b] He inquired, cockily raising an eyebrow, and turning around to face Ryan himself rather than his reflection. It was almost alarming to see the cocktail of anger and hurt and jealousy staring him back in person, but if Brendon felt nervous or apprehensive, he didn’t show it. [b]”Anyway, who said anything about putting out in the first place? You put those words in my mouth. You don’t know what we were going to do. Maybe I’m allowed to make out with people, and it not be a prelude to anything else.”[/b] His words were delicate but pointed, and he watched Ryan’s gaze move to the floor. [i]Again, it’s not like you picked the best venue.[/i] That only earned him an eye roll- hypocrite. [b]”I think you’ll recall a few times that we have, Ryan,”[/b] He pointed out, exasperated, disappointed but not surprised, [b]”But, you know, you probably forget. All blends together for you.”[/b] Maybe he was showing too much face here, revealing too much about his own problems. So far, most comebacks had been thinly veiled jabs at their own messed-up relationship. If it could be called that at all.

Brendon was tired of Ryan’s judgement, and him acting like he owned the rights to him for some reason, when all he’d done was hate his guts and berate him, but not enough so that an encounter afterwards couldn’t fix that bad blood. He was almost surgical about it. [i]I don’t need to know him.[/i] Probably better that way, really. [i]I don’t need to know anyone to know that they’re-[/i] Eyes narrowing dangerously, warningly, Brendon dared him to finish that sentence. [i]...Not supposed to be with you.[/i] His fists clenched in frustration and disbelief at his sides, and he turned his eyes skywards to fix on the roof. He held his tongue, though, because Ryan wasn’t finished. Better let him finish before he ripped into him like he wanted to. [i]What happened to us? Am I [/i]boring [i]you, or something?[/i] Fixing his eyes on Ryan again, he considered his guitarist for a moment, in all his jealousy and entitlement. It could have been so different, yet, here they were.

[b]”There is no [i]us,”[/i][/b] He started suddenly, scathingly, [b]”There is [i]me[/i] and there is [i]you[/i] and sometimes, we fuck. And, yeah, it’s good. That doesn’t mean there is an us. Nor does it mean that we are exclusive,“[/b] -Brendon glanced towards Ian’s jacket, that he had put back on the couch- [b]”[i]Or[/i] that I am here to relieve your permanent boner whenever you feel like it. I’m a human being, you know, and I know you’re capable of treating me like one.”[/b] A pause. The hurt in his voice was starting to show through stronger, the anger and fire slowly draining away. [b]”You just- you just won’t.”[/b] Brendon sighed, looking at his feet. [b]”You fooled me in Seattle for just a second that you cared about me.”[/b]