A force of habit, Ryan's mind kept drifting to negative, hateful places, [i]wanting[/i] to be angry with Brendon for whatever reason and come up with criticisms. Despite that, he could never maintain anything, or even come up with something genuine like he might usually. A couple of days ago he'd be teasing Brendon for something stupid and totally inane, like how he looked just-woken-up, or how tactile he was being, or anything within that realm of ridiculousness; now he couldn't muster up annoyance with him even if Brendon would deliberately try to irritate him. Well- maybe that was speculation. He supposed, eventually, there had to be something that would end this spell, and in all fairness it probably wouldn't be Brendon's fault even then, but still. Ryan wasn't excited to see what broke this. He could imagine them falling into a routine, maybe not clearly imagine it but toy vaguely with the idea at least, and it was... nice. It's not like he'd particularly enjoyed how comfortable they'd become with the dynamic of making one another's lives miserable. 

This was almost... domestic, for lack of a better word, like they'd been in each other's good graces forever when the reality was the exact opposite. Or, realistically, Ryan had just always wanted this subconsciously and fulfilling that want was key in improving his mood. After all, he was feeling pretty much nothing about the official end to a year-long trainwreck of a relationship, and [i]everything[/i] about this new start. When he thought too hard about it he got butterflies, when he didn't think at all he felt dumbly content, when he could allow a thought in his head all it was was a mantra of Brendon's name, elated and confused all at once. But he was coming to terms with the confusion, so. Not all bad. And the more Brendon won his fondness over with tiny actions, the easier it was to do that. He watched Brendon try to fix his hair only to end up fussing over Ryan's interference with amusement, very carefully smoothing the stubborn curl that remained in his face even after a great deal of effort to fix it back into the rest of his hair with his thumb. After, he kept stroking through, absently running comforting fingerpads over the locks even after they were straightened out to perfection. [i]I can pull it off.[/i] He could pull anything off, and Ryan might've said so had he not been juggling two conversations already - instead he smiled easily, unused to sending such a warm look Brendon's way.                                          
                                                                                                                                                                                                                           
Apparently the way to Brendon's heart was food. Ryan could've guessed - he'd seen his snacking habits, really, couldn't avoid it when they lived in such close quarters; while Ryan himself wasn't all that healthy he'd always criticized Brendon for them because it was an easy target. But now all he could think was that it was endearing, watching him perk up just because of the mere mention of breakfast food. Unexpectedly, Ryan was pulled along as Brendon leaned both of them back, comfortably landing against the headboard when Brendon planted a garden of little kisses across his skin. Ryan's chest felt tight again, that dangerous swooping feeling in his stomach returning, but he couldn't bring himself to quite be scared of it in this position, in this moment. Maybe sometime later he'd have his own personal freakout session, and it would probably not present itself in the best way to everyone else, but nevertheless- right now, he was okay. This was nice, if unfamiliar, bizarre. Good weird.

It was easy to tune out the angry ranting of his soon-to-be-ex, or maybe current-ex, who knew if she was [i]accepting[/i] the breakup, when Brendon was all over him like this, when he was all over Brendon. Not that he was the distraction. Brendon had pretty much been his primary focus for a good twenty-four hours or so, now, and everything else was background noise. Funny how quickly things changed. [i]Me too.[/i] He was so quiet, nervous about it, that it was sweet, so unlike Brendon and charming as hell. Ryan smiled reassuringly at him, cocking his head a little to the side, and there was another first for them. [i]Hey, where there’s a will, there’s a way, right?[/i] Well. Seems his confidence had come back. Ryan shifted along with him to allow him space when he moved a bit, but evidently Brendon couldn't do much more than that tiny amount of movement. Ryan withheld his laughter, very conscious of his volume, and soothed a hand over Brendon's chest while he recovered.

[i]I don’t think I’ll be able to bend enough for anything.[/i] Ryan knew his thought process already, watching his gaze dart around, and was mid-eyeroll before he even started speaking again. [i]That means you’ll have to go and meet room service. And close the blinds. Bottom privilege.[/i] [b]"Yeah, yeah, fair enough,"[/b] he compromised, his hand still on Brendon's chest until it dropped between them while he listened to Keltie. And, hey, [i]another[/i] first. Ryan was fairly certain he'd never agreed with Brendon on anything, except maybe that they didn't like one another. Which had clearly changed. There could be plenty of nuance to the situation that Ryan was glazing over, like maybe this had nothing to do with liking one another and everything to do with his emotional turmoil or their heightened lust or something else he couldn't pick up on, but for now all he'd settled on was that the bad blood was something of the very distant past, something he couldn't even imagine feeling now. A complete one-eighty, maybe temporary, hopefully not. 

Moments later he was off the phone, that era of his life over, a new one in the works, and he and Brendon were the image of a couple, almost. He had his arms curled round Brendon nearly protectively, Brendon tilted up to him receptively, like there'd never been any bad blood at all. During the pause Ryan could only stare right back, the admiring thoughts on Brendon's mind reflected identically, taking him in like he'd never seen him before. A new light, he supposed. [i]I... I’ve been telling you that for years.[/i] The break off there was a little concerning but Ryan appreciate his light effort at teasing, trying to keep up some semblance of normalcy between them. Ryan shook his head slightly with a miniscule smile on his face, amused, and swiped a thumb over his temple calmly. [b]"Damn. Should've listened to your insight."[/b] They were actually maintaining some kind of banter now. God. Ryan felt a pang of heartache for a moment, thinking of all the wasted time, every occasion where he could have known Brendon and just... didn't.

He moved on fast, though, because at the reminder of possible breakfast Brendon was lighting up again, wrapping around Ryan and then looking thoughtful. Ryan waited patiently, mostly because he had a good view from here, given access to Brendon's neck when he exposed the line of his throat so clearly. Ryan tilted down, softly pressing his lips to his Adam's apple, just a few counts of Mississippi before he was leaning back again and Brendon was going with him, fitting against his chest. Ryan held him upright obediently, holding him tightly, more intimately as he painted another picture of kisses alongside his face, smiling the closer he got to his lips. [i]Why not -[/i] Ryan met him in the kiss easily, on the verge of laughter, his expression reflecting the contentment without issue. [i]...Both?[/i] Ryan let go of the laugh, soft and breezy, and nodded instantly, kissing him again. Instead of answering directly he leaned to the side, rolling off Brendon and landing beside him on his back, the hotel room phone in his hand. The front desk picked up fast and he stared at the ceiling as he spoke, pushing his free hand through his hair and holding it atop his head.

[b]"Hi, can I get pancakes and waffles sent up to 203?... An order of everything, that'd be great. Yeah- every flavor. Thanks."[/b] Ryan stretched out, catlike, and put the phone back, hanging his arm off the side of the bed. He considere the window, the blinds, decided against it for now. [b]"Am I your favorite yet? I got you all the flavors. That [i]includes[/i] chocolate chip, man."[/b] And maybe that was welcoming some weird, uncomfortable discussion about how yesterday Ryan had been Brendon's least favorite and arguably still could be, but. Whatever. He was not, coincidentally, thinking straight.