As Brendon slowly came to, the light from the blinds they’d not thought to shut streaming through the window dragging him kicking and screaming into consciousness, it initially took him some time to figure out exactly where he was. He registered he was in a bed, it wasn’t his bunk, and it was too big to be his own bed. For a few moments as he struggled to get used to the light, he wondered whether it was somebody else’s bed, but he didn’t remember going out last night, didn’t remember meeting anybody- and usually he did. He’d always forget the night and remember the people. Brendon sighed and turned over, burying his face into the rough pillowcase and inhaling slowly, willing himself to go back to sleep after he decided that where he was and who or who he wasn’t with wasn’t really important. Unfortunately, he was awake now it was light, and he couldn’t sleep unless there was total darkness. To achieve that, he’d have to stand up and cross the room to close the blinds, and by then he’d be up and there’s be no point going back to bed. Mulling this over in his head, he forgot to care that he had no idea where he was, and didn’t notice that he wasn’t alone.

He wasn’t alone. Brendon felt the presence of somebody beside him, and apprehensively turned his head to the side where it was shoved into the pillow, wincing to try and shield himself from the knowledge of who it was that was in bed next to him. Brendon blinked open his eyes reluctantly and saw- an arm, a side, a waist. Whoever it was, they were sat up and leaning against the headboard, a pillow shoved between their back and the wood to prop them up. Remarkably calm for such a disorientating situation coupled with a background, full headache, Brendon slowly let his gaze travel up from the person’s waist, to their arms, shoulders, neck. He registered the fresh bruises splashed sparsely on his skin and suddenly was hit with a rush of memory- making those marks himself on somebody he actually didn’t really want to associate with. Brendon had a sick feeling in his stomach that he already knew where he was, and who he was with- he just didn’t want to admit it to himself, didn’t want it all to be real, didn’t want anyone being able to ever say that happened.

But it did, and Ryan was sat next to him in the unsteady bed of Brendon’s hotel room, and all he could do was internally groan, frozen watching Ryan calibrate himself. His hair was messy and Brendon watched as he ran a hand through it, stayed still as Ryan appeared to reach to his side’s dresser and pick up his phone, stare at it for a few seconds before he shifted away and from the headboard and half-turned away from Brendon. He would have been offended, but a) Ryan didn’t know he was awake, presumably, and b) it meant he could see the red scratches decorating his back, from his shoulder blades down to just above his waistline. Brendon’s fists curled and his fingers twitched as he tried to suppress memories of the exact circumstances in which Brendon gave him those scratches. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, though, as Ryan’s muscles stretched and shifted under his skin, pulling it taut as he seemed to stretch, sigh, prepare himself for- something. Brendon still had half of his face shoved in a pillow and one eye on Ryan, so he saw him on his phone, dialling a number, even from this angle. He waited until the first ring to finally decide that he should sit up and let his consciousness be known.

Even then, though, he waited, counting the rings and clicking his tongue when whoever Ryan was trying to call went to voicemail. After watching Ryan curse and go to try again, he finally shifted over, moving delicately to trace a hand barely along the scratches on Ryan’s back, trailing up to his shoulder. He then pressed his chest against Ryan’s back and dug both of his hands mildly into his hips, looking over his shoulder at his phone. Keltie, read the name, and Brendon smirked, hooking his chin in Ryan’s shoulder and moving his arms to wrap loosely around his waist, palms flat against his skin. It seemed gentle, but there was nothing tender about it- Brendon’s neck and mouth were stinging, his touch more a reminder of what they’d done than any show of affection. ”Morning, tightass,” He chided, speaking into his shoulder, concealing a smug half-smile by burying it against Ryan’s skin. ”What are you doing? Feeling a little delicate?” Brendon punctuated his teasing greeting with a small bite to the join between his collarbones and his neck. ”Didn’t forget about me, did you?”

Brendon remained how he was, limbs wrapped around Ryan and chest pressed against his back, wondering how exactly they’d gone from Ryan turning up on his doorstep and raising his minifridge to them waking up together with bruises and scratches and a plethora of memories and imagesI they’d probably both be much better off just shutting out and forgetting. Brendon wondered whether they’d just go on as normal, confrontational and cruel and dysfunctional as ever. That would probably be the best idea. Maybe Ryan should have upped and left by now, if they really wanted to change, but from what Brendon could gather, he’d only just woken up himself. Brendon trailed kisses him along his neck to his jaw as Ryan brought his phone to his ear again, having dialed Keltie. ”Rude,” He remarked after a second, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then the top of his spine. ”You wake up and you think about her. Flattering.” Again, Brendon has no intention of being gentle- he was just tired, having still only just woken up, and he was cold, and Ryan was warm, his skin somehow radiating heat. ”Are you gonna tell her you prefer sleeping with the person you hate the most rather than her?” A pause, and he moved in close to his ear. ”Some boyfriend.”

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 again, 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 done, 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 hurt 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. Morning, tightass. He should be annoyed. Ryan knew that, knew how he should 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. "Shouldn't I be saying that to you," he replied half-suggestively, their whole 'who's-a-bottom-who's-not' conversation coming back to him. What are you doing? Feeling a little delicate? 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. Didn’t forget about me, did you? Ryan's voice came out more breathy than anything, head tipped back more against Brendon. "Not like I have much choice. I didn't realize you had fucking claws." 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. Rude. 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. You wake up and you think about her. Flattering. 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. Are you gonna tell her you prefer sleeping with the person you hate the most rather than her? 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. Some boyfriend.

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. "If you don't shut the fuck up- Keltie, baby, good morning," he said, voice first irritated and quickly switching to sweet. It's nearly eleven, Ryan, 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... "Yeah, I - listen, Kelts, I had to leave early, we have this show in Seattle, I should've said something, I know." She started off with something like then why didn't you, but Ryan barrelled over it, nervous. "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." Over what? Are you trying to break up with me over the fucking phone? Where are you? 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. "Am I still drunk? What the fuck."

When Brendon wrapped himself comfortably around Ryan’s back and saw that he was trying to call Keltie, he did wonder what the intentions were there- an apology for leaving the birthday party that she had thrown for him, an attempt to start patching up an increasingly unstable and flawed relationship? Brendon exhaled cynically, supposing any relationship was more functional than the one he and Ryan shared. Still, he remembered their conversation about Keltie last night, before the quick and sudden escalation that lead them to being side by side in bed this morning. He secretly hoped that Ryan was calling Keltie to break it off with her, try and make this whole thing a little less morally ambiguous. Brendon remained with his chest flush to Ryan’s back for a few moments, saying nothing, just staring at the phone in Ryan’s hands and eventually deciding to greet him in a way that could be either teasing or antagonistic. Ryan apparently didn’t take it either way. Shouldn’t I be saying that to you. Brendon noticed it was more of a statement than a question, so he didn’t respond immediately (he couldn’t find a response anyway), just grinned almost sheepishly, dumbfounded, not at all expecting that kind of reaction. “I dunno, should you? Your call. I’m the princess here.”

Brendon hooked his chin on Ryan’s shoulder and finally expressed an interest in who he was calling and why he was calling them. He hoped Ryan thought carefully- the wrong answer here could get him physically shoved off the bed and smothered with a pillow. And he’d be telling Keltie exactly what happened himself. Ryan didn’t reply, though, because as Brendon found himself unable to keep his mouth away from his skin, Ryan’s breath hitched audibly and he dropped his phone, goals apparently momentarily forgotten. Good. Brendon hoped to distract him enough that he didn’t make the call entirely, still apprehensive about what he was calling for. Not like I had much of a choice. Brendon exhaled upon hearing Ryan’s breathy voice, suddenly motivated and excited by his tone, his muscles tensing to hold him tighter as he listened. I didn’t realise you had fucking claws. Brendon, listening intently, all but growled delicately into his shoulder and then drew back, hands sliding from Ryan’s chest, under his arms and up his back to rest at his shoulders, where he positioned his hands to drag his nails lightly down his back, teasing more than anything, resting his forehead against the back of Ryan’s neck. ”You asked me to,” He mumbled, hands unfurling at the base of his spine and moving back under his arms to wrap around his waist. ”And, besides. I think you bring out the animal in me.”

He was allowed to be cliche, because nothing about their relationship was normal. Brendon pressed decisive kisses up along his neck and watched with one eye as Ryan called Keltie yet again just as he curled his fingers through Brendon’s hair. Turned out his plan hadn’t worked, he was still dead set on reaching his- girlfriend? Technically? Had Ryan technically cheated? Did it count? It was morally ambiguous at best, straight up betrayal at worst. Brendon didn’t really care enough to be concerned- it was Ryan who had strings attached elsewhere. He didn’t. Brendon wasn’t guilty, as far as he was concerned. Still, he dryly suggested that Ryan’s heart still lay with Keltie, and Ryan twisted to look at him, almost confrontional, as if he had something to say. Brendon had pulled his head back, levelled his gaze challengingly, waiting. But nothing came, and Brendon huffed out another passive aggressive insult. This was apparently Ryan’s tipping point, because he immediately turned around like he was set on a hair trigger, not giving Brendon enough time to react to and resist Ryan moving over him, straddling his hips not suggestively but more as a restraint. Brendon struggled in vain, went to try and sit up but was stopped by the forceful hand against his chest. If you don’t shut the fuck up-

Brendon was about to ask him what, demand to know what he was going to do about it, but then- Keltie, baby, good morning. Ouch. Brendon physically felt the sting, like he’d been slapped in the face- that sweet tone, that sickly use of baby after demanding Brendon’s silence- Brendon’s jaw hung open, shocked by the way he addressed Keltie, his only basis of how their relationship was going from last night, where Ryan had just complained. Suddenly, he was nervous that he really was going to try and make amends, patch things up. Brendon tried not to let it show on his face, but he stilled, obviously sulking and looking up at Ryan like a kicked puppy, meeting his eyes with some defiance. If Ryan really was about to kick him to the curb after what happened last night, he didn’t want to be here when he did. Yeah, I - listen, Kelts, I had to leave early, we have this show in Seattle, I should've said something, I know. Brendon snorted. So did Spencer, and he didn’t leave, did Ryan think Keltie was an idiot? Or did he just not care if his story checked out, because what he was actually doing was that unbelievable? Brendon wondered what Ryan had told Keltie about him, and started to chew on his lip, becoming bored by their domestic exchange. Keltie didn’t sound happy.

Just, for the past few months, we haven't been our best, and. Oh, fuck. Ryan really was breaking up with her over the phone. Brendon smirked up at him, no sympathy for neither him nor Keltie. Dickhead, he mouthed, starting to busy himself with idle thoughts about how they’d spend the rest of their morning. He shifted, then winced- maybe not. Last night... I appreciate it, you know, but it was so far off base, I feel like... Brendon was laughing, not trying to silence himself, one arm folded behind his head, the other teaching out over Ryan’s shoulder and tracing over the scratches on Ryan’s back. ”I appreciated last night, too,” He piped up. Inconsiderate. That was the final straw, you know? I feel like we're both- over it. Brendon moved the hand on Ryan’s back down to curl around one of his hips, distracted from their ridiculous phone conversation. Even so, he heard Keltie’s response, and raised his eyebrows, watching as Ryan helplessly covered the receiver. “Go on, player, tell her where you are,” He said in a lilting voice, nails digging into his hipbone. ”I’ll tell her if you want.” He made a reach for the phone. Am I still drunk? What the fuck. Brendon shrugged, moving both of his arms to raise above his head as he stretched out lithely, evidently above all of this. ”Maybe. Let me talk to her,” He demanded again, going to swipe his phone.

Ryan wished there was some clear way to navigate all of this. There was one thing that was obvious to him, unquestionable - the fact that he had to break up with Keltie now, before he wasted more of both their time, before someone was actually hurt. At this point it wasn't like she had much invested in them, either. But he couldn't figure out how to treat Brendon. All he wanted to do now was be... softer, gentler with him, because he was finding that he preferred Brendon's reaction to that; he didn't miss snapping at him and bickering and the damn near physical fights they got into, although it'd only been a day. Maybe that was the thing- it'd only been a day, not even that. This was probably all just a phase, a few moments of weakness where he thought he wanted this with Brendon. In any case, as long as it felt better and he could get away with it, as long as they were in this weird alternate universe of a hotel room, he was going to go along with the natural instinct to lose all of his old heavyhandedness around Brendon, not try to rile up the traditional meanspiritedness.

First things first, though: calling Keltie. He was caught in his tracks by Brendon, who didn't seem totally pleased about it all, but then Ryan wasn't sure Brendon even knew what was going on. He forgave the approach. I dunno, should you? Your call. I’m the princess here. A smile played on Ryan's lips, feeling like they were almost being playful with one another and his heart dipped in his chest in response. He turned his head slightly to where Brendon had hooked his chin over his shoulder to smile at him, the 'princess.' He didn't continue the banter, though, instead attempting to finish the call he'd started to make - only to be distracted by Brendon again. It made sense that Brendon wasn't quite as worn out considering he wasn't even a fourth as drunk as Ryan had been, but still, being this ready to make out this soon after waking up? Ryan was impressed, urging him with a steady hand at the back of his head, and felt his chest swell mysteriously when Brendon held him more tightly to his own body. For them, this was oddly comfortable.

He felt more than heard the low sound from Brendon against his shoulder, a tiny vibration before he was pulling away and more delicately dragging his nails down Ryan's back again. Ryan inhaled gently but audibly, tipping his head back to find Brendon's forehead pressed to the back of his neck. He grinned slightly to himself, his free hand falling to cover one of Brendon's when they came back around his waist, almost holding it. For the time being, he forgot to care about that not being a part of their relationship. You asked me to. True. Ryan remembered his own words from last night, knew he'd never be able to say the same things without a drink in him. He chewed his lip a little, somewhat embarrassed. And, besides. I think you bring out the animal in me. Okay, screw embarrassment, that won out. "You're corny as fuck," Ryan replied, laughter touching his voice, but his fingers were finding Brendon's hair again while more kisses came, so clearly he didn't mind all that much.

He wanted to tell him that, yes, the breakup was for his own sake, getting out of it would be good for him, but also it would free him up for Brendon specifically. And he nearly did. Brendon looked ready to hear something, maybe he thought Ryan was just going to argue about some other bullshit, but. He didn't say anything at all, played it safe. Moments later, too, he was on Brendon, straddling him far more innocently than either of them had in the past hours and splaying a hand on his chest to keep him far away from wherever would be an audible place to the phone. His greeting to Keltie felt wrong coming out anyway but seeing Brendon's face at the use of what was a natural, reflexive pet name - it did not feel good. At all. His hand on Brendon's chest loosened up when he saw the faint signs of sullenness overtake Brendon's features, blinking at him reservedly and looking vaguely apologetic. He smoothed his thumb over his skin in an effort to comfort him, a silent 'just wait,' and willed the little signals of sadness to go away because things had changed for them and he couldn't handle those.

Thankfully, Brendon looked defiant and smug pretty quickly after that, and that was so much better than sad. Ryan could deal with a self-righteous Brendon more than he could deal with a sad one. He read his lips: dickhead. Yeah, it was true, this was kind of bullshit and Ryan was realizing the extent of his bad idea pretty quickly. He raised his eyebrows threateningly at Brendon when he started laughing, to no avail. I appreciated last night, too. Ryan widened his eyes and jerked away from his touch, moving his hand from his chest to cover his mouth. He lost the nerve to when Brendon's hand shifted to his hip, distracted, dropping his head slightly and losing his focus. Go on, player, tell her where you are. Ryan bit his lip, trying to shift away from Brendon's touch because he was a little too powerful right now, but didn't succeed much. I’ll tell her if you want. Ryan flinched away from him when he reached for the phone, batting his hand away cattily.

He watched Brendon stretch out, the epitome of nonchalance while he was having a mini-freak out. Somehow it was calming - seeing him so relaxed in the wake of Ryan's blight made it seem like maybe he was blowing this all out of proportion. Maybe. Let me talk to her. "Fuck off," Ryan said, but he was grinning at him, dodging his hand again while he pressed the phone back to his ear. "I'm in Seattle, in a hotel. No - don't come, just. 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." You're an asshole, you know that? You have some nerve - Ryan pulled the phone away again, covering the receiver while Keltie's voice continued on a tangent, and looked at Brendon, more casual. "This happens, like, every night. Wanna order room service? My treat."

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 hated 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. You’re corny as fuck. 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- you can’t call me corny, you flew across the country to tell me you wanted me, or don’t take that tone with me, I literally sucked tour dick and don’t deserve this kind of treatment. 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 owe him anything- he just felt cheap and dirty trapped beneath someone potentially about to rekindle a relationship with someone else 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. Fuck off. ”Fuck you,” 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'm in Seattle, in a hotel. No - don't come, just. ”’Cause he has sex hair, god, what a mess,” Brendon piped up helpfully, his voice raising towards the end of his sentence. Ryan soldiered on. 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. 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.

This happens, like, every night. Brendon winced and whistled, turning that over in his mind, feeling a rare rush of sympathy. But mostly amusement at Ryan’s misfortune. ”I don’t get why you didn’t just break it off earlier,” 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. Wanna order room service? My treat. 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. ”Thought you’d never ask, baby.” 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. ”Though I did already have breakfast planned.”

Initially Ryan had been tentative to show any signs of weakness Brendon could turn against him later on; now they seemed on equal playing grounds, and everything felt a whole lot less threatening from this angle. He didn't want to pull away to reaffirm his status as some kind of threat, and he didn't want to bite behind every kiss or scratch behind every touch just to make sure nothing between them was gentle. He wasn't afraid anymore. Anything that was biting or had an edge to it otherwise was purely coincidental, was the way they chose to operate anyway - there was no double meaning behind it this time, nothing about it was backing up some kind of upper hand or maintaining anyone's pride. He liked this dynamic, too. Just, any avenue they'd explored together thus far... maybe it was just Brendon that he liked. That was a bizarre thought. Ryan didn't immediately shove it away, too curious and desperate for a change, but he thought Brendon would hate to know what was on his mind. Fuck. That was grounds to make him mentally run along.

Fuck you. Ryan's gaze on him was probably too comfortable, too fond, drifting to soft and fantastical places even when he was having this conversation and he felt this awful. He was just thinking - he hadn't seen Brendon with anyone in the time they'd been in the band, or if he had, it was nothing particularly special or long-lasting or truly romantic. He had no shoes to put himself into, namely, no one to imagine taking their place. So his imagination ran wild, more wild than the one he so apprehensively presented to Brendon the night previous; he was thinking about how they'd be in that situation, how he could wake up with every morning like this one. They'd probably still argue, occasionally, but it'd turn into bickering, and they never picked on anything important to fight over so if things were different, the issues would dwindle so much quicker, hard feelings would fizzle into kisses and carelessness. He'd be able to hold Brendon like this, see the smile he'd only recently been introduced to, maybe see it at full power or hear his wholehearted, genuine laughter. Ryan just, wanted.

But he was being too obvious. After a few moments he blinked, once slowly then in quick succession, and his hand on Brendon's chest stilled from the soothing circles his thumb had been running over his skin. ’Cause he has sex hair, god, what a mess. It was hard to pretend like he wasn't totally drawn to that. Sounded sarcastic, but really, this playful part of them was getting to him. Ryan cracked up, pulling the receiver far enough away from his mouth just in time to get away with it, and shifted over Brendon punishingly. One hand rose to his head, self-concious, to stroke through the very confused curls, and he appeared to be right. "So do you," Ryan replied at another pause in conversation, clearly investing his mind more to what Brendon was saying than the more crucial topic at hand on his phone. And, because Brendon's hair was pristine, he quickly ruffled his fingers through his hair until they were even. "See?" he mouthed, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

Brendon called him, silently, on his totally not being sorry. Yeah, he knew him too well. Ryan chose not to honor it, though, sticking to his guns and trying to at least appear a little bit less heartless. I don’t get why you didn’t just break it off earlier. Ryan chewed his lip, thoughtful, and that was a good question. He supposed he wanted to be in a relationship, wanted to look like he was able to commit to something even if it was eating him up inside. And his relationship with Keltie had definitely left him raw and jaded. In fact, he'd had plans to not start anything up again at least for a long time until this, with Brendon. Not that he was planning to start anything with Brendon, either, just - he wasn't so afraid to have feelings, even if the direction they were going was... unexpected, to say the least. In response, Ryan just sort of shrugged, helpless. He should have broken it off long ago... and he should have followed his heart and done this with Brendon earlier, maybe ended up with him instead even though that ws a weird as hell image in his head. Still. It was nice, in theory.

In response to room service, Brendon popped up adorably fast, and Ryan instantly grinned at him, a quick turn from the morose look he'd adopted at the thought of Keltie. He let his eyes close, comfortable, when Brendon landed a few kisses on his neck, up to his jaw, leaning in to him easily. Thought you’d never ask, baby. If Ryan had some sense, the same alarm bells would be going off in his head, but his own thought processes had already run off the rails. He was way past just an accidental pet name. As it were, he felt his heart skip a beat, charmed, and let his breath rush out weakly as Brendon drew him closer to speak into his ear. Though I did already have breakfast planned. Ryan's eyelashes fluttered and he turned his head, mindlessly pressing his lips to the side of Brendon's face. "'Baby,'" he repeated quietly, as if Brendon hadn't been totally gross a second ago. "I like that. And - you're funny if you think we'll be able to bend enough for that. Seriously, rein it in." He was snickering, almost, still leaned up against Brendon, his forehead pressed to his temple when he uncovered the receiver and started listening to Keltie again.

She was still going, something about you do this all the time, you can't make a decision for yourself like an adult so you panic and push me away, so he cut into her talking. "I'm making a decision," he said clearly, and he supposed if he dwelled on that a little longer he'd realize the double meaning, feeling Brendon everywhere and tangled with him uselessly. As it were, he only let it apply to him and Keltie for now. "I don't want to do this anymore. That's all. I'm sorry." He hung up and dropped the phone aimlessly onto the mattress, then wrapped one arm around Brendon's waist securely, the other finding the side of his face to cradle. He brushed his thumb over the corner of his mouth attentively, studying his features close-up without reservation for once. "Hi. I'm sort of an awful person." That was, indeed, a terrible approach to breaking up with someone. He supposed that relationship in particular didn't need any sort of sensitive split, though, so maybe it didn't matter. After a pause, Ryan tried to move on, continue the most civil conversation he'd ever had with Brendon - while basically holding him. Weird day. "Which do you prefer, pancakes or waffles?"

Brendon hadn’t been in a serious, committed relationship during his time in the band, and, if he thought about it- at all. Not as long as the other members, and especially not as long as Ryan, who was kind of infamous for having an eyebrow-raisingly long string of girlfriends. It wasn’t like he wasn’t attractive or ‘boyfriend material’, and it wasn’t that he wanted to stay single, he just- he didn’t know. When Brendon thought about it now, lying there on his back with Ryan comfortably straddling him, with a soft, gentle mood in the air, as they behaved like lovers- maybe he was too busy being Ryan’s to fall for someone else. His mouth quirked as he played with that theory in his mind; last night, he wouldn’t even have admitted to himself that he was even attracted to Ryan, let alone that he was capable of feeling this kind of fondness towards him. For a second, he considered bringing up reasons to loathe Ryan in his head, but miraculously, he couldn’t. His head was in the clouds, in some kind of unearthly place that rendered him unable to criticise Ryan at all. Some remnants of stubbornness stuck to him, though, and his mind intrusively dismissed that as the afterglow from the night prior. To admit anything else was too large a leap right now.

The light atmosphere was persistent, though, not at all unpleasantly. Brendon was playful, teasing, and watched with some mix of amusement and affection as Ryan raised his own hand to draw briefly through the chestnut curls of his hair. He was- beautiful. The sun was still streaming in, and though he had to squint sometimes, it flushed Ryan’s skin golden, and his eyes a rich, dark honey, illuminated. Brendon’s eyes trailed slowly to his hands and suddenly he had new associations with them he knew then he’d never be able to let go or forget about. He felt a strong urge to draw him down and kiss him, but he managed to resist it, just let himself look obviously distracted by his mouth as he spoke. So do you. Brendon automatically struggled to reach up and check the truth of the statement just as Ryan did, but the other beat him to the chase and ruffled his hair up further, to which Brendon responded with a low, puppy-like whine of complaint, batting Ryan’s hand away and shaking his head to let the locks fall out of his eyes, one pesky curl falling completely over his face. He gave up on trying to fix it and just looked up, unimpressed, at Ryan. See? ”I can pull it off.”

Brendon wondered in passing what would have happened if Keltie had broken it off with Keltie a lot sooner like he should’ve, at the first signs that he was more her per project than committed partner, or the love of her life. He pursed his lips, considerating berating him for it again- but he’d said his piece, he said it last night. And that had lead to this morning. That lead him to believe that if he had broken it off months before, neither of them would have the guts nor emotional awareness to admit their feelings for eachother, buried deep, deep underneath the outer shell of aggression and vindication. Again, he supposed it didn’t matter much now- they were here, tangled with eachother at late morning in Brendon’s hotel room, together. And it was nobody’s busisness but there’s. The very thought made Brendon’s heart flutter ridiculously, made his stomach turn over and his mind crowd with butterflies, unable to focus on any one coherent thought but Ryan for more than a few seconds. It was nobody’s business but theirs. Brendon caught himself before he got too emotional and reminded himself that until late last night, apparently, they loathed eachother entirely, attracted or not. Maybe this was temporary. It was no use to think too deeply about it- Brendon had always lived in the moment.

For a moment he was morose, thoughtful, but then there was the potential of food being delivered to them, and he was suddenly very aware of his empty stomach. In record time, he propped himself up on his elbows and then struggled to a sitting position and rested his back against the headboard, dragging Ryan with him as he leaned in simultaneously to plant appreciative kisses along any skin he could comfortably reach. He inhaled sharply- almost nervous, apprehensive to observe Ryan’s reaction to his pet-name slip up- as Ryan turned his head and pressed his lips against the side of his face. Baby. Brendon held his breath, closed his eyes, ready to formulate some bullshit excuse, or apologise, or something. I like that. An exhale of relief, and Brendon wrapped an arm around the back of Ryan’s neck, bent and hooked at the elbow, hand resting on his opposite shoulder, drawing him even closer. Maybe this was a little impractical, since Ryan was still mid-conversation with Keltie. ”Me too,” Came his barely audible response. He was almost nervous.

And - you're funny if you think we'll be able to bend enough for that. Seriously, rein it in. Was that a challenge? ”Hey, where there’s a will, there’s a way, right?” Experimentally, Brendon shifted suddenly where he sat, and attempted to extend his legs out further. Turns out, Ryan was right, and after he’d recovered from wincing at the strain of his muscles and the amplification of his dull, constant ache, he nodded sheepishly. ”I don’t think I’ll be able to bend enough for anything,” Brendon mumbled morosely, clicking his tongue and glancing thoughtfully at the bedroom door and then at the blinds. ”That means you’ll have to go and meet room service. And close the blinds. Bottom privilege.” Grinning, he rested his head with a slight thud against the headboard, and watched with a raised eyebrow and a slightly parted mouth that was twitching at the corners as Ryan uncovered the receiver of his phone and reluctantly decided to pay attention to Keltie.

I’m making a decision. I don’t want to do this anymore. That’s all. I’m sorry. Brendon opened his mouth the very moment after Ryan hung up and let his phone bounce on the mattress, but he didn’t even get a chance to speak, charmed speechless as Ryan wrapped an arm comfortably around his waist like it was the most natural thing in the whole world. Lifting his head up slightly from the headboard, he remained enamoured and silent- Ryan was so close, and Brendon never realised that being this close to him made it so difficult to breathe. Hi. I’m sort of an awful person. His voice, too, it was low and rough and- god forbid Brendon admit it- sexy, and he could do nothing but stare dumbly at him, a million witty comments on his tongue silenced. That was a dangerous power to have over him and Brendon wasn’t sure he even cared. “I-” He had to look away and stare past Ryan briefly to find his words, ”I’ve been telling you that for years.”

Which do you prefer, pancakes or waffles? His eyes lit up and he moved both hands to curl naturally around his hips, lying back again against the headboard, considering his options. Thoughtful, he tilted his head back, exposing his neck and throat for a few moments before he pressed flush against Ryan’s chest; tightening his grip on Ryan to keep him upright and not dependent on the headboard, he leaned in to trail kisses along the side of his face, making a path towards his mouth and speaking inbetween pauses. ”Why not,” He murmured, pausing right before he leaned in to engage him in a warm, happy kiss, ”Both?”

A force of habit, Ryan's mind kept drifting to negative, hateful places, wanting 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 everything 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 can pull it off. 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 accepting 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. Me too. 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. Hey, where there’s a will, there’s a way, right? 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 don’t think I’ll be able to bend enough for anything. Ryan knew his thought process already, watching his gaze dart around, and was mid-eyeroll before he even started speaking again. That means you’ll have to go and meet room service. And close the blinds. Bottom privilege. "Yeah, yeah, fair enough," he compromised, his hand still on Brendon's chest until it dropped between them while he listened to Keltie. And, hey, another 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’ve been telling you that for years. 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. "Damn. Should've listened to your insight." 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. Why not - Ryan met him in the kiss easily, on the verge of laughter, his expression reflecting the contentment without issue. ...Both? 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.

"Hi, can I get pancakes and waffles sent up to 203?... An order of everything, that'd be great. Yeah- every flavor. Thanks." 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. "Am I your favorite yet? I got you all the flavors. That includes chocolate chip, man." 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.

Funny how the same man that had once mocked him mercilessly for his every trait- say, how much he gestured when he spoke, any new haircut he might be premiering, the way he sang, or even his harmless snacking habit and love of food- was now straddling him with a strange innocence that was precedented by the strange... Definitely not innocence of the night previous, and was offering to order them both room service, waffles and pancakes and everything. If Brendon had been wiser, he would have doubted how genuine this extended olive branch was. He might’ve thought back to every time ryan sneered or snickered when he was, maybe, speeding through a share bag of skittles, and brought it up, demanding to know why he was suddenly being so nice and feeding his ‘unhealthy’ habits- did it take just one night for Ryan to not care about that anymore? Or did he never really care to begin with, he just looked for every available opportunity to pick on him? Thinking about it, Brendon didn’t fancy that Ryan ever actually cared about his health. This was all a distant reflection, though, and in the instant, Brendon just peeled up like a puppy and propped himself up against the headboard, wrapping his arms around Ryan to pull him along into a similar position. To show his appreciation, he decided on the embarassing path of sucking up to Ryan, pressing gentle, barely-there kisses, like brushes from a butterfly’s wing, across his skin.

At this point, Brendon had given up being bothered by Keltie, who, if all went well and she actually accepted the breakup, would be out of the picture soon enough. He wasn’t about to hold his breath that things would be smooth sailing from here, though- he knew from being (unfortunately) around Ryan all the time that several of his ex girlfriends in the past have looked for every excuse to come round to a hotel, the bus, wherever, to ‘return’ something or to ‘pick something up’. He imagined it was likely Keltie would do the same, and that would be awkward. Anyway- smooth sailing? What did he even want to go smoothly? It wasn’t like they were automatically boyfriends, no, what they were doing was out there as it was but that would be too our there, until under twenty four hours ago they had been unable to stay alone in the same room together without wanting to kill eachother within thirty seconds. It was unrealistic, if Brendon wanted to think practically, but- he didn’t. Right now, Ryan was smiling down at him in a way he was so unused to that it floored him, and he was hit with a sudden surge of a certain type of motivation that, admittedly, quickly died away when he realised he wasn’t actually able to move very much. He settled back into a relatively comfortable position, disappointed, and wanted to be irritated when he saw that Ryan was holding back laughter, but he just- couldn’t.

Although, being almost-immobile did have its benefits. Yeah, Yeah, fair enough. Okay, so maybe he was being a little dramatic about it, but he had decided that it was his god given right. Then, when Ryan finally turned his attention back to what should be the central matter at hand, Brendon lost interest immediately and resting his head with a gentle thud against the wooden headboard, which in turn made a dull noise as it hit the wall. His hands slipped from Ryan’s skin and he reached behind himself, half-extending his arms and hanging on to the top of the headboard, stretching his torso out and then moving his arms to fold comfortably behind his head. For the next few moments he wondered how long he would take to break it off with Keltie, how long she’d uselessly protest against the end of an admittedly ridiculous relationship, and then he was pleasantly surprised when Ryan hung up, cast his phone aside somewhere he immediately focused his full attention on Brendon. Attention, of any kind- Brendon lived and breathed it, but this was next level. As Ryan wrapped his arms tightly around him, he tipped his head back to meet his gaze, and when he tilted it further, he let out a content sigh as Ryan pressed his lips delicately against his Adam’s apple for a few fleeting, gentle seconds.

Damn. Should’ve listened to your insight. Brendon hummed in agreement, eyes shut, but then they snapped open when he saw the opportunity to turn that around on him. ”You know,” He began, speculative, raising his eyebrows as Ryan drew his thumb across his temple, ”I think a lot of things would turn out better if you listened to my insight a bit more, y’know?” A pause, and he raised both eyebrows, finishing his tangent before leaning forwards to pepper kisses along his jaw and then, despite himself, planting a firm, appreciative one against his lips. ”Just- in general.” After that intitial kiss, their first of the morning, strange considering how sickeningly domestic and sweet they had been behaving, Brendon was receptive when Ryan leaned in just moments after to meet him in another one. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the comfortable weight on his hips was gone because Ryan had rolled sideways so he was lying beside Brendon in his back. Close beside, sure, but he still felt the loss, pouting visibly for a second until he saw Ryan reach for a dial the hotel phone. In the meantime, he pulled the sheets up and over his hips, so they were tangled tightly around his waist.

Hi, can I get pancakes and waffles sent up to 203?... An order of everything, that'd be great. Yeah- every flavour. Thanks. Brendon wasn’t listening to the specifics- he was just admiring the view since he’d got a proper look at Ryan stretching out beside him, all lean and gorgeous, his curly hair (Ryan was dragging a hand through it and Brendon desperately wanted to do that for him) a mess that spoke for itself. His eyes lingered, enthralled, as if he’d seen for the first time how flooringly pretty Ryan was. They’d slept together, sure, but they had both been drunk and driven by angry energy- this was maybe the first time he had properly seen Ryan. Still gazing, his eyes travelled from his honey-hued eyes to his mouth, to his jaw and pale, delicate throat and his stark collarbones, his deceptively strong arms and then his hands, all long fingers and callouses and spidery veins- Brendon let out an extremely appreciative sigh and was so distracted by his waist and his pretty hips (who knew they could be pretty, this could be ridiculous) that he barely heard Ryan when he spoke next.

Am I your favourite yet? I got you all the flavours. That includes chocolate chip, man. Brendon, who was lying on his side facing Ryan, propped up with one elbow, grinned and went to thank him for the surplus of breakfast food- but that first part just processed through his mind and his expression changed, a small but visible frown furrowing his eyebrows for a second before he simply raised them. ”Don’t push it,” He warned. ”You’ll have a lot of making up to do if you want to be my ‘favourite’. You’ve insulted me so many-“ Brendon scoffed suddenly, remembering a specific example mid-sentence and shifting so he was on his back again, propping himself up with both elbows. ”Remember all the times you made fun of me ‘cause I have to wear girl’s pants? Yeah, I remember shit.”

You know, I think a lot of things would turn out better if you listened to my insight a bit more, y’know? Ryan watched him, silent, while he left a gentle trail of kisses along his jaw, just barely kissed him back when their lips met. He considered this. Brendon was kind of right, though. Whenever he declined Brendon's advice in the past, it wasn't because it was wrong - it was because it was coming from Brendon. It wasn't just silly stuff, when Brendon suggested something crazy like how he was planning on jumping offstage at the encore (which actually had a followthrough), but things like last night when he'd genuinely offered his own thoughts on Ryan's situation, when he was rational and clear-minded while Ryan was freaking out. Even if Brendon was joking about this now, he was right. Usually Ryan would be pissed about it. Just- in general. Ryan smiled real small, thought about how maybe if he'd been as wary of Keltie as Brendon was in the beginning of it all, things would be different. "Yeah," he said quietly, "you're right." Ryan kissed him again, slow, before he rolled off to call room service.

He felt eyes on him as he spoke and looked over, a self-conscious grin gradually crossing his face when he realized he had Brendon's attention. When he sighed appreciatively, totally corny, Ryan let the arm hanging above him in his hair fall to Brendon's side of the bed, nudging a knuckle against his temple playfully. He looked excited about the large order for only a few seconds before his expression shifted, and Ryan realized his mistake with that unwise choice of words. He opened his mouth to quickly take it back but had no idea how to correct it, instead ending up watching as Brendon went in. Don’t push it. You’ll have a lot of making up to do if you want to be my ‘favourite’. Ryan was already cringing, mentally begging Brendon not to go on this tangent, because really they had the worst history ever and it could go on forever, both sides. Also he'd sort of liked the tiny amount of time, the trial period, where they got along - more than got along. God, he could see them as so much more.

You’ve insulted me so many- Brendon got comfortable, clearly, and in turn Ryan scrubbed his hand over his face, still half-smiling out of discomfort and apprehension. Remember all the times you made fun of me ‘cause I have to wear girl’s pants? Yeah, I remember shit. Ryan cracked up a little, turning on his side and throwing an arm over Brendon's waist, curling close to him while he tried to maintain his good humor. "Hey, that was my cover. Really I appreciate your ass that won't fit into normal jeans." Ryan paused, his smile fading a little while he thought about turning this into a more serious conversation - about how he was actually sorry about everything before, about how he wished things hadn't started like they did, how he'd do anything to change what they were. Maybe if he'd originally gotten over himself and accepted the much needed change then... but thinking about the 'what if's and trying to change history was useless.

They were here now, and they were who they were, their relationship was what it was. Ryan had always figured there was no turning it around, no way for damage control to happen. And maybe this was a weird way to start it, just outright sleeping together after his hissy fit, but they had so much time before the show and maybe more if the could escape prepping, he could conceivably fit in some honest words and reflections. Saying 'sorry' wouldn't do it, and going back on his word for a few hours wouldn't do it, though. Ryan would have to invest time in undoing everything, in completely reversing the dynamic here. Still it was scary - it's not like Brendon would welcome a change in his personality with open arms, and of course it's not like he could show that face to anyone else, either, or... well. He wasn't sure what came after 'or.' Jon and Spencer weren't horrible people, they'd probably just roll their eyes at a change between him and Brendon, but he didn't know for sure how anyone would react, how people would regard him or Brendon.

He lifted himself on an elbow until he was hovering over Brendon, trailing his fingertips over his chest, mapping out the faint definition. 'You'll have a lot of making up to do.' Sure. "Okay, then, tell me, how can I make it up to you," he said, his voice less questioning than vaguely curious, mostly distracted by the path of his hand.

Though the suggestion that Brendon made about Ryan maybe listening to his input every once in a while was a joke (Brendon could hardly imagine being angry with Ryan ever again at that moment), it was more than just a breath of truth- Ryan had always, no matter what, deflected any and all of Brendon’s suggestions, for the band or otherwise- and if, on the off chance, he ever secretly agreed with Brendon’s viewpoint, he’d speak over him, propose the point himself, take all the credit. The man was ridiculous, frankly, and any other time just thinking about how petty and critical Ryan could be would set Brendon off- but it was difficult to feel any emotion but some kind of unusual but not unwelcome affection towards Ryan in their current situation, tangled up together in a hotel room in Seattle, bodies pressed close, lips ghosting against skin, and everything was warm, and gentle, and unfamiliar, and Brendon just kissed him (barely) to banish his train of thought before it got too sappy. Yeah. Brendon inclined his head slightly to meet Ryan’s eyes, silent. You’re right. He broke into an amused smile just as Ryan leaned in to kiss him properly, and he only just managed to control his smile in order to return the slow kiss before Ryan was up and off him, arms outstretched towards the phone.

Brendon felt a little cold and lonely when Ryan moved away, ever the dramatic, and he tugged the sheets up his body where they were wrapped around him as much as he could now that the warmth from Ryan’s skin was no longer beneficial. He turned his head to stare at Ryan, intending it to be defiant, or sulky, or pleading, or anything in between, but he quickly found there was a benefit to his bandmate lying beside him a little ways away- bandmate, shit, he hadn’t really thought about how the band would respond to this, but no, shut up, that’s irrelevant, look at him. And Brendon did, catching his bottom lip firmly between his teeth for a few moments and letting out an involuntarily sigh of enjoyment before the corner of his mouth turned up into a geniune, dumb smile, provoked by Ryan when he nudged against his temple, acknowledging Brendon’s lack of subtlety. For a few moments, his mind was wandering as he thought about how they still had the entire morning to just lie around in bed together, but Ryan’s next words snapped him out of his fanciful, domestic daydream, into reality. Brendon knew that Ryan was probably kidding around, but still, he had to make sure that he knew that just because they’d slept together or whatever, it didn’t mean he was automatically and permenantly in his good books. It’d take a little more.

And Ryan was smiling, and Brendon tried to be irked by it, but he just couldn’t be, his smile was contagious and Brendon resisted moving over to meet him in a kiss again. It seemed that Ryan got the message, but he still eyed him carefully, posed to shoot down any far-fetched fantasies of suddenly being Brendon’s favourite person in the entire world. Then, Ryan was laughing, and Brendon felt like a pitifully lovesick teenager as his insides heated up and his heart began to melt. His laugh was just as contagious, and Brendon cracked a wide smile despite every attempt at stopping it. Hey, That was my cover. Brendon shifted to get comfortable and tilted his head to listen as Ryan curled an arm around his waist and pulled them both closer together. Really I appreciate your ass that won’t fit into normal jeans. Wow, predictable- but Brendon was disappointed at his lack of foresight. He’d noticed nearly every slip-up Ryan made, especially when he caught Ryan checking him out, but he’d never noticed that kind of attention before. Brendon closed his eyes briefly, considering, then opened his eyes and raised a single eyebrow. ”You know what, that’s understandable,” Came his response, finally, as his smile broadened to try and coax Ryan’s fading grin back to the surface. ”Thank my mom, I guess.”

Brendon gazed up at Ryan like some kind of awe-inspired and adoring puppy, eyes drifting from feature to feature, his mind drifting somewhat as he wondered what the hell people would think of this if they ever found out- key word ‘if’, and the most likely outcome would be that they never did. Keltie- Keltie would flip, accuse Brendon (rightly, Brendon thought, amused) of turning Ryan gay or something- Jon wouldn’t care much, Spencer would disapprove due to the change of the internal structure of the band. It was unstable enough as is. Brendon wondered what Ryan was thinking about absently, and lifted his arms to hook one around the back of his neck and the other loosely over Ryan’s waist to hold him closer, propping himself up slightly against the cushions. Ryan, in turn, lifted himself onto an elbow and they were back where they started, Ryan hovering over Brendon’s form and Brendon clinging on to him somewhat hungrily, like he was being fed a meal but the person who gave it to him was constantly threatening to take it away and not give it back. They were on borrowed time. Realistically, what could come of this? Brendon made himself a little exasperated thinking about it, so he switched his brain off and let the slight feeling of Ryan tracing tenderly over his skin flood his senses. Ryan smelled good, he decided, of something typical like vanilla, and the beach. Okay, then, tell me, how can I make it up to you.

Brendon said nothing for a moment, just let his head tilt to the side, as if considering. That was a dangerous statement to make- If Ryan was as open to making it up to Brendon as he seemed, he fully intended to make the most of that, push him as far as he could, see if he could wrap his guitarist around his little finger like he always fantasised about doing. A pause, and Brendon let the arm be had angled around the back of Ryan’s neck fall and then move into his hair, tangling locks around his fingers and using the leverage to pull him in for a punctual kiss, mostly to give him more time to think about what it was that he wanted. Thoughtful, he sunk his teeth as gently as possible into Ryan’s bottom lip, more a nibble than anything, and trailed off to the side before letting his head fall back into the cushions, muscles going slack and arms dropping down by his sides. ”That’s a tricky one,” He murmured, finally, tilting his head and staring at the ceiling, wincing as the bright light from through the blinds hit his face directly. Lifting an arm to cover his eyes, he gestured with the other towards the window. ”First of all, close the blinds? I’ll think better without a headache.”

Ryan's efforts to ease the tension raised by his 'favorite person' joking seemed to be met well, but it didn't mean he was taking Brendon any less seriously. Maybe it was Seattle itself that opened a new realm of possibilities to them. Although his initial drive to get to Brendon had, in fact, started in New York, it'd only been fond feelings once he'd crossed the country officially rather than the typical output of aggression he'd grown so accustomed to with regards to Brendon. When he got here, somehow there was less and less to hate, and everything he'd once disliked was turned on its head into some positive thing about Brendon. All of his initial 'sagely advice,' for example, would've just been dismissed as him being a smartass before, or something to that tune, Brendon being condescending as usual (not usual, really, just something between the two of them, predictably). Now Ryan had received it semi-gracefully, actually glad to hear someone's honest outside perspective on his relationship that had since, finally, gotten the plug pulled. Time of death: way too late.

As confusing as it was and incomprehensible as it'd always be, though, Ryan tried not to question it too much. At the moment he felt happier with Brendon than he had in the last six months with his girlfriend - ex-girlfriend. Nevermind the part where there was no rhyme or reason behind all of this - he may as well enjoy the solace while it lasted, because with their history and his luck, it'd probably find some way to get ruined. Not that that was exactly on the forefront of his mind while he was staring at a Brendon bathed in sunlight and waiting for a breakfast feast. You know what, that’s understandable. Ryan's own smile had been going off, unsure of itself, but Brendon lit up again and he did too, some swell of relief in his chest over the fact that Brendon hadn't just kept up the fight as they were wont to do. Thank my mom, I guess. Weird to allude to his mom while they were still lying fairly naked next to one another after a not-quite-hookup, but sure. Ryan supposed he'd already heard those words in an interview before, anyway. Either way, he laughed in sort of bewilderment, charmed by how characteristically weird Brendon was.

To keep that sort of gift around he'd have to work, not take this for granted, which he really, really wasn't used to. Ryan had sort of grown into his lifestyle, now, and even though he was, for the most part, humble - if you asked anyone aside from Brendon, and maybe Spencer who love-hated him in the way only best friends can - he didn't take well to things not coming easily anymore. It really hadn't started out that way, if he remembered correctly, if all the memories of a shitty childhood were intact. So maybe Brendon was dumbing him down to his roots already. Ryan caught himself thinking about boyfriends and potential and dumb, destructive things, so he promptly shut off his mind, instead opting to gaze down at Brendon as he'd peacefully been doing before his brain went into overdrive.

Unfortunately despite his efforts to keep them strictly not that far he was already making promises to make it up to Brendon, and he watched Brendon's face change to an expression of thoughtfulness blissfully unaware of what he was getting himself into all because he was so goddamn pretty. What did it matter that completely changing their dynamic so suddenly without any real measures beforehand to ease into it could potentially tear up their careers, or at least one of them? Thing is, it didn't, and actually didn't even occur to Ryan while everything seemed so perfect staring down at someone he'd overlooked for so, so long. The pause after his question was almost nerve-wracking, but not quite, because Brendon could probably ask him to commit a crime and he'd up and do it under the circumstances. Especially when his hand was sliding up into his hair, fitting comfortably there and guiding Ryan into a kiss, vaguely biting and only serving to keep Ryan chasing for more. Brendon fell back against the cushions and Ryan's muscles gave in a little, leaning in closer to him to keep the distance as small as possible.

Brendon's arms fell away but Ryan kept his hands confidently around Brendon, bracketing his waist, secure. That’s a tricky one. Regardless, Ryan had already busied himself with giving Brendon tiny, lazy kisses on his cheek, apparently impatient, until Brendon was lifting his arm to fend off the light and he had to pull back a couple inches, affronted. His gaze followed Brendon's gesture, and before he'd even started to speak, Ryan's eyes were rolling knowingly. First of all, close the blinds? I’ll think better without a headache. "Sure," Ryan mumbled, pressing his forehead against Brendon's chest and recuperating before he finally rolled off and away, pulling a comforter from their pile of various blankets to wrap around himself as he stood. It hung over his shoulders while he reached the window, studying their view momentarily before actually tugging on the blinds, letting them clatter shut. "But it made you look so pretty. I'm almost grieving." For good measure, Ryan tugged the curtains closed, too, because Brendon could make endless complaints.

He registered his aching muscles and almost gave in, collapsed back onto bed, before coming to terms with the fact that they'd get better if he walked it off at least a little. He hovered around the room with his comforter-shawl, feeling utterly silly but not really caring, and landed at the minibar across the bed - already cleaned out of all the shots. Above, he switched on a cheap electric kettle, prepared to ask Brendon if he'd like coffee - but he already knew Brendon didn't drink the stuff. His better judgment told him he probably shouldn't be giving him sugar, either, but he started on a cup of cocoa regardless, pouring himself out a packet of instant coffee. "I'm making you hot chocolate. We should just start a list of my good deeds." Ryan turned and leaned against the counter, facing Brendon while he poured hot water into their little paper hotel cups. "Remember we've got a show coming up? Are you gonna be able to, with, uh -" Ryan paused, gestured vaguely. "Your ass? Every step is hell, over here. You might die." He looked incredibly sympathetic.

When Brendon actually thought about it, the idea of Ryan sitting around at his own birthday party, already drunk, and then deciding he wanted to go and see Brendon of all people was hilarious in itself- but now it was out in the open that clearly Ryan’s subconscious had goals rather than just sitting around and stealing all of the drinks from his minifridge, it was a hundred times funnier. Sure, so, he found it difficult to even begin to believe that Ryan wasn’t entirely motivated by alcohol and drunken fantasies, at first, but somehow they’d ended up like this- wrapped around and with eachother amongst crumpled sheets on a surprisingly comfortable bed in a second-rate hotel in Seattle (the label paid for it, but they weren’t exactly lavish spenders). It was bizarre, and twenty four hours ago, if somebody had told him he would be sleeping with Ryan on the night of his 21st birthday, he’d have either laughed in their face or, like, mimed throwing up, funnt considering it was up in the air now that Brendon thought about such things much, much more than he cared to admit. Now that it had happened, he felt no sense of satisfaction; though an afterglow has settled in his bones and an alien affection for Ryan had gripped him by the throat out of nowhere, he didn’t feel fulfilled by one night, instead felt a drive for more, more, more, even as they were pressed together and exchanging frequent, uncharacteristically gentle kisses.

It wasn’t them, but it was, it really was, and as Ryan moved to bracket his hands around Brendon’s narrow waist, holding onto him tight and sure, Brendon felt safe and comfortable, two emotions he never expected to associate with Ryan. Similarly to Ryan, his head was being invaded by pesky fantasies, but less the ones he saved for nights alone- instead, he played with the words ‘boyfriend’ and ‘ryan’ in his head and pondered the possibility for mere seconds before he shut himself down because that was ridiculous. One amazing night (well, considering they were both drunk) and one deeply and oddly affectionate morning didn’t equal the potential for a relationship when all of their past and consistent hatefulness was added to the equation. They were probably still just basking in the afterglow, Brendon convinced himself, even as he stared dotingly into Ryan’s honeycomb eyes, moved a hand to trail down his chest and concentrated briefly on the soreness he felt throughout his body in juxtaposition to that softness. It was an odd feeling, and one he was sharing with- he’d said it enough, but it was still shocking- Ryan, of all people. He imagined Jon and Spencer’s faces if they ever found out. Which they wouldn’t. Unless Brendon and Ryan became anything serious. Which they wouldn’t.

Anyway. Brendon wasn’t completely smitten with Ryan even now, when they were tangled together and Ryan had just ordered them both waffles and pancakes. He swiftly warned Ryan of pushing his luck- he might be in Brendon’s temporary good books at that moment, but Brendon was nothing if not wary and Ryan was nothing if not predictable. His pessisimistic side told him that this peace they’d found, this solace in Seattle, was temporary. But he tried not to thinks about it, half-heartedly warned Ryan not to be presumptuous about his place, and was then immediately won over by Ryan offering to make it up to him. Embarrassingly, he was on board right away. Brendon tilted his head and looked off into the distance as if to think, but was distracted when Ryan leaned in close against him and he turned his head just enough to catch him in a lecherous kiss on impulse. After that, he pulled back with a shaky, satisfied breath, and his eyelashes fluttered as Ryan started pressing painfully gentle kisses against his cheek. He needed words, couldn’t comprehend words. Luckily, he managed, drawing back so the sun was out of his eyes and freeing an arm to shield his face from the light streaming in through the open blinds. Ryan seemed reluctant- Brendon almost wondered whether he had any ideas about how to make it up to him already- but he was obedient, and that was all that mattered. Sure.

”Thank you, sweetheart,” Brendon mumbled, his voice rough and lilting from sleepiness. Though he had asked for Ryan to stand up, he still made an involuntarily whine of protest when he actually went to do so, reaching out as if to yank the comforter off of him and then thinking better of it, instead gently hanging onto the end and tugging it, playful, one eyebrow twitching mock-suggestively. He let go with a rush of air as a laugh, pressing his back against the cushions and waiting as Ryan wandered over to the curtains, wrapped in his shawl. What, was he shy? Brendon laughed to himself. ”What’s with the blanket? Can’t get all shy on me now.” He was still grinning as Ryan reached the window and shut both the blinds and the curtains. But it made you look so pretty. I’m almost grieving. ”Almost,” He echoed. He looked at him pointedly even as he moved towards the minibar and turned on the kettle. ”I’m sure you’ll survive, somehow.”

As Ryan started messing around with mugs and cocoa and coffee, Brendon himself kicked off the sheets and sat up to readjust his position, shifting down the bed and then drawing the covers up so they were taught across his hips. He planted his elbows behind him into the cushions and when he tipped his head back, he could rest the crown of his head against the headboard. The whole motion was not fluid, but it was painful. Intoxicatingly so. I'm making you hot chocolate. We should just start a list of my good deeds. Brendon lifted his head and opened one eye just to judge him before he rolled both and closed them again, his head thudding against the headboard. ”Does fucking your supposed arch nemesis while you’re still technically with your girlfriend count as a good deed?” It was in jest. Mostly. Brendon was trying to stifle a laugh even as Ryan started talking. Remember we’ve got a show coming up? ...Unfortunately. Cursing, Brendon sat up straighter and pressing his back against the headboard, flinching as he did so. It had been a while, alright. Are you gonna be able to, with, uh. Absolutely not. Your ass? As if it were the most tragic thing in the world, Brendon grimaced.

Every step is hell, over here. You might die. Experimental, he moved again, and this time he let out an involuntarily noise of pain, trailing it off into colourful curses. Not looking good. ”Whose fault is that, huh? Like, jesus, baby. You really had been thinking ‘bout that for a while.” He smirked, picking at the sheets. ”I’ve solved the mystery of Keltie staying with you, anyway.”

But this is not that dream plays in Ryan's head, practically taunting him with the reality of their situation; their old stage show, the one he'd thought was so silly and never seemed to come across no matter how talented an actor Brendon was, and now it was scary to think about. It's not like he really had that dream, running across a sunflower field with clouds dancing across a crystal sky towards his lover, and there was no wind whipping through anyone's lavish locks, and no one was sharing a perfect, passionate kiss. And it's not like they were the flipside, the 'hard-sweaty-crazy-angry-monstrous fucking.' They were neither. It's just that they came so close to resembling the speech that it's almost like it'd been planned, like this was a joke played preying upon Ryan's dumb below-the-surface emotions, like this was Brendon's ultimate win over him. His cynicism was unfair but it came from a place of reason, really, considering who they were and what they were. What they were was not the dream, and what he wanted was probably embarrassingly close to it. He didn't want this to be a hookup, or even a recurring hookup. He wanted something more that he couldn't - or more like didn't want to - put a name to.

When they were cuddled close and sharing tiny, innocuous kisses, and all of Ryan's senses were overwhelmed with Brendon-only-Brendon - that faint sweet smell he seemed to carry naturally, the glow of his skin in the light and even without it, the even sound of his voice, the intoxicating taste of his skin velvety to the touch - it didn't seem like either of them were trying to win out over the other. It was like, for once, they were balanced out, on the same page or maybe just on the same chapter, and Ryan thought maybe he could trust him. With his feelings, with his heart, with everything, whatever, he could have anything. Again, maybe he was just vulnerable after such a rough past couple of days, maybe he was looking too hard for something different from what he'd experienced in the last year-long relationship he'd found himself trapped in. Honestly it was unfair to put Brendon in this position where he might feel like a rebound, god forbid, when he was anything but that - he'd been around longer tha Keltie, hell. He didn't mean for it to be like that, in all truthfulness, he just, apparently, couldn't control his impulses. Ryan blamed his alter ego drunk self.

It seemed like they were even getting better, like everything had already been undone. Of course that wasn't possible - but for the time being Ryan could pretend he'd never been responsible for the most antagonistic relationship in his life. Thank you, sweetheart. Like that. The sound of his voice, the 'sweetheart'; Ryan turned his head just slightly towards Brendon but was reluctant to show his face, really, knowing how clear-cut his emotions must be on his face. He suppressed his smile somewhat, pulling the covers closer over his shoulders. What’s with the blanket? Can’t get all shy on me now. ...so maybe shyness was a part of it. Ryan cringed inwardly, mood shifting fast. "I'm cold," he excused, because that was also a part of it, then halfheartedly whipped the tail of the comforter dragging behind him in Brendon's direction, playful. Almost. I’m sure you’ll survive, somehow. Ryan's laugh was under his breath, hidden in the same suppressed smile he'd been maintaining ever since he was called 'sweetheart.'

Does fucking your supposed arch nemesis while you’re still technically with your girlfriend count as a good deed? Ryan glanced back at him critically, noting the readjustment and unable to control the way his gaze momentarily swept over Brendon, considering. "Whoa," he returned in an affronted tone, arching an eyebrow. "So you didn't enjoy it?" He smirked, sideways, before turning his head back to the mugs, and once his expression was out of sight he let it drop somewhat. Brendon was kidding, he was half-sure of that, but it still was weighing on his conscious. Him and Keltie had established multiple times to one another that they were done, that this was bullshit, that they were wasting their time, Keltie saying any variation of these to Ryan more often than the other way round because he was just that difficult. But they still ended up with each other the next day, more begrudgingly hanging off the other as time went on. He knew, at least when he was sober, that no matter how many times they bickered and argued and tore the other apart, they were still supposed to be exclusive. After a moment, he cleared his throat quietly, let his voice soften. "But no, probably not."

The distraction of the show, thank god, served as an at least temporary distraction. He was looking back just in time as Brendon struggled to sit up, stifling a grin watching his brief display of misery. Not necessarily because he was suffering, just. Ryan was the cause of that. His ego was maybe slightly inflated at the moment. Brendon tried again and Ryan was graced with his extensive vocabulary, bursting out into the grin he'd been pushing aside. Whose fault is that, huh? Like, jesus, baby. You really had been thinking ‘bout that for a while. Something in Ryan's countenance changed, his chest sinking with the slow breath he released. He didn't think pet names had ever affected him so much before, but it turned out he'd just never heard them from Brendon - and that whole thing was basically a compliment, nevermind the fact that he had, yes, hit the nail on the head. Ryan exhaled, drawing his hand over his jaw in an effort to ground himself with a revisit to his tactile senses.

I’ve solved the mystery of Keltie staying with you, anyway. Funny, but Ryan was still stuck on the last words out of Brendon's mouth, so he studied Brendon for a second before picking up both their cups and returning to his side, setting them on the nightstand. He leaned over Brendon, held him beneath his shoulders until he was practically lifting him by his torso into a more genuine kiss, shutting his eyes and slowly sinking against him. After a few seconds he gently let Brendon rest back into his position before, remaining standing by the bedside. "I love when you call me that," he said finally, probably too open, shaking his head almost disbelievingly. "Anyway." Ryan climbed back onto the bed, landing horizontal on his back so he was staring at the ceiling, body perpendicular to Brendon's, legs overlapping oddly comfortably. "You're probably wrong. I think she was definitely seeing other people, so clearly I wasn't doing enough." He cracked up, fixing his gaze on the blank white above and surprised at even himself for being able to make a joke of the situation - well. Half joke.

For a while Ryan was quiet, thinking, and then he looked at Brendon, sure that offering up his thoughts when they weren't just vague details on his rampant imagination was probably still unwelcome despite all the recent changes. Nevertheless, he was also probably still a little drunk, so. Balanced out. "You think anyone would notice if we just never left this hotel room? I kinda prefer it here." He wasn't dumb, he knew they'd more likely than not end up driving each other crazy eventually, but right now it seemed so impossibly out of reach, such a distant unlikelihood that he didn't have to worry about it.

Brendon’s traditional speech before Lying wasn’t written intentionally to annoy Ryan or get on his nerves, but when it was performed, Brendon named the drama and played the part, fully getting into it every time without fail. The crowd loved it- the rest of the band thought it was silly, but Brendon was theatrical and shameless and he loved milking the shock factor of his promiscuous onstage persona almost as much as he loved stringing along Ryan, casting him as the ‘lover’ in his dream, a harsh, cold irony that tasted like metal in both of their mouths when Brendon almost spat out the gentle words and imagery like poison, but subtly enough that only Ryan would understand he was saying never in a million years to that whimsical dream. Now, though, when they were pressed close, when all Brendon could feel was the intoxicating combination of the bedsheets and Ryan’s warm skin, and instead of tasting harsh copper from spitefulness he was getting drunk from kissing Ryan, from the heady situation situation or from the strong alcohol he could taste on Ryan’s lips, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it was a joyously far cry from when Brendon would talk about that perfect, passionate kiss, and would hunt Ryan down onstage, enjoying how uncomfortable he made Ryan feel and how much he affected him when he either kneeled down and hung onto his legs or his clothes or his waist, or leaned in dangerously close as if to take that kiss. He never did, but every time he came closer, toed the line, tested how far he could go before he pushed Ryan over the edge.

Many times after shows like that when Brendon was particularly rowdy, Ryan exploded into anger and frustration afterwards, and Brendon then saw that as a success- He flinched, now, recognising the toxicity and realising that they were still, effectively, like that. Sure, they were all sweet and tender now, but relationships couldn’t just be fixed like that, especially when their relationship was broken to begin with- as in, they wanted nothing to do with eachother, but being stuck in that situation they had become reliant on eachother’s presence and felt lost when the other wasn’t there. That feeling alone made them even more angry. Thinking about it in reflection, it made sense why Ryan had flown all the way across the country to see him even though they were supposed to hate eachother’s guts. Brendon would have done the same if he were in the same shitty situation. Lost mostly in his head, he continued matching Ryan’s gentle behaviour, savouring each soft kiss because they were both volatile in nature and each could be their last if one of them even barely said the wrong thing- And, the awful thing was, they knew exactly what buttons to press if they wanted to send the other one over the edge.

Brendon was self-sabotaging by nature and the longer the quiet stretched out, the more his mind wandered to damaging places, considering how just earlier this morning Ryan had been calling Keltie ‘baby’, and even if it was reflex, it hurt. Brendon reprimanded himself for feeling any vague spark of jealousy, because that would mean he was jealous of Ryan’s lover, and he didn’t want to be Ryan’s lover. Sure, Ryan had told her it was over for good, but Brendon couldn’t count on all of his fingers how many times he’d witnessed Ryan and Keltie have a fight, swear that they’d never see the other again, call it off, and then get back together the next day, clinging embarrassingly to eachother like it never happened. Brendon, at the time, found a sick joy in watching Ryan’s fucked love life pan out, watch it fuck with his head, but now, he recognised it as awful and draining and it made him reject serious relationships for even longer than he already had been doing. It wasn’t a commitment thing, he just- the job he had now, the band, they were still near the beginning, he had to work hard. He had a lot of love to give but didn’t want to half-ass it with anyone, be that referring to time or priority. Brendon was the kind of person to prioritise people over work, even though he had a startlingly strong work ethic- he was worried he wouldn’t be able to equally distribute his passion and therefore just dodged every opportunity to stop the dilemma occurring the first place. Plus- he hadn’t found anyone worthy of that yet.

Strange to be thinking about that now. Brendon felt the loss when Ryan arose and wrapped himself in the comforter, but said nothing, just shifted slightly, watching him intently as he moved, smiling slightly. I’m cold. Uh-huh. Brendon glanced towards the window, straining a little to look outside and squinting in the sunlight that bathed him in warmth. Cold, sure. Again, he said nothing, just clicked his tongue knowingly. As he readjusted, he teased Ryan about this whole ‘was last night cheating’ thing, and though he kind of immediately regretted it, Ryan seemed to take it fairly well. Whoa. Brendon picked up on his tone and grinned, tilting his head. So you didn’t enjoy it? Brendon swallowed thickly at that fucking smirk, one he’d seen so many times but in a cruel context, not one like this, nothing like this. Trying to relax, he stretched his arms above his head languidly, knuckles turning white as he gripped onto the top of the headboard to anchor himself. He returned the smirk, but yawned, all casual, before he responded. ”Of course I enjoyed it,” He reasoned, ”But I could give you some pointers.” A pause. ”Maybe next time I can show you..”

But no, probably not. He let go of the headboard and let his taut muscles go slack, expression softening, but he couldn’t conjure any comforting words, so he remained quiet, still with that little helpless smile that broadened as he heard Ryan’s slow, unsteady exhale. He became even more excited when Ryan came over and placed their drinks down, about to reach up and tug him down, but Ryan beat him to it, basically lifting him into a kiss that Brendon immediately melted into despite the loud protest of his muscles, digging his fingernails only slightly into Ryan’s hips before Ryan let go and he settled as tenderly as possible back onto the mattress. I love when you call me that. Brendon’s eyes glittered, because that was dangerous, vulnerable territory, but it was so tempting to take the plunge into treacherous waters with someone like Ryan- which was strange to say, because twenty-four hours ago, ‘someone like Ryan’ meant ‘someone he wanted to skin alive’. Anyway. ”Anyway,” Brendon replied huskily, trailing off. Anyway.

Moving as much as his aching body would allow, he settled back down against the headboard as Ryan climbed into the bed and lay horizontally, their legs crossing over. Brendon was blatantly staring, seemingly deep in thought. You're probably wrong. I think she was definitely seeing other people, so clearly I wasn't doing enough. Oh? Brendon’s eyebrows lifted, intruiged, and also surprised. What more could she want than that? Brendon figured he was being obvious, but at this point, couldn’t care less. He just shrugged a shoulder, but was still staring at Ryan, fascinated, until Ryan turned his head to look at him and he quickly glanced away, picking at the sheets again to busy his hands. ”She’s crazy,” He announced, as if fact. The quiet they were in was surprisingly comfortable, and Brendon’s eyelids started to droop, dangerously close to drifting off now the offending light had been blocked by the blinds and curtains, courtesy of Ryan, who was the one who spoke up and caught his attention once again. You think anyone would notice if we just never left this hotel room? I kinda prefer it here. A long sigh escaped Brendon’s lips and he stared at Ryan again for a few beats before he made his decision and moved- again against the vehement protests of his own body- to collapse and lie next to him, planting an elbow by his head and resting his chin in his jaw, using his other hand to idly trace Ryan’s side. He was enthralled, and his voice when he spoke was distant. ”I...” Brendon curled his fingers around Ryan’s wrist and lifted it, tracing his thumb along the spidery veins of his hand. ”I wish.”

Despite the fact that things were looking up, and he really shouldn't be thinking about negative things now, Ryan's mind occasionally drifted to apologies and excuses and memories of times he regretted his behavior even before his feelings towards Brendon had changed (maybe temporarily). He couldn't do any of that now, it'd just ruin the weird, mediating haze that appeared to have overtaken them, but could he ever, anyway? It's not like saying 'sorry I make your life miserable on a daily basis' would fix anything. Sorry I made your dream job into a nightmare half of the time. Sorry I never let you in, or accepted you, and in fact kept you out and excluded as much as possible; maybe Ryan wasn't a different person like he thought he was, maybe in a few hours they'd be exactly the same, but he wasn't going to forget this. He didn't want to. In a shared moment of weakness he'd seen a side of Brendon that made him wish, wish he'd just gotten over his damaged ego in the first place and realize that Brendon was a blessing to their cause.

He was a kid when it happened, really, so he wasn't graced with any sense of reason by the time he'd met Brendon. Nevertheless, that wasn't an excuse - he had plenty of time to turn around and undo the damage before it'd gotten this bad, he just. Didn't. It was easier that way, or so he thought. In this situation, though, Ryan was finding that the side of Brendon that'd always been unavailable to him was so charming and uplifting that this could have been so easy if only he'd given it that fighting chance. This visit alone, though unfamiliar and maybe a little unnatural feeling, was entirely comfortable, bodies fitting together as simply as their alcohol-tampered personalities had, two opposing forces finally finding an attraction rather than repelling. More than anything, if this did come to an end, he knew he would miss Brendon even when they were a few feet from one another. Now that he knew what was there that he'd rejected... yeah, no way he was willingly going back.

Of course I enjoyed it. Ryan grinned, triumphant, and bit his lip for a moment in an effort to get rid of his dumb way-too-pleased reactions. But I could give you some pointers. Ryan's sated smile switched fast to an expression of offense, screwing up his nose and throwing his hands out a bit at his sides. "Pointers? Really?" He hovered on an argument mentioning something about how he heard absolutely no complaints last night, but Brendon continued, and Ryan crossed his arms expectantly, half-smiling again already from amusement. Maybe next time I can show you... Okay, that was interesting. Ryan's fingers tapped on his bicep, shifting his weight to one side consideringly. "In that case..." He trailed off, raising his eyebrows innocuously, evidently close to cracking up. Ryan landed on agreeing, repeating after Brendon good-naturedly. "Next time." Hopefully said next time was soon. He was already having, like, withdrawals. Really.

He couldn't resist the kiss, didn't regret it when he felt Brendon's blunt nails faint against his hips, saw the glimmer in his eyes after he'd probably been too honest. Still- no regrets. Ryan was probably digging his own grave here, but. Anyway. Ryan looked at him sort of funny, sideways, because being antsy wasn't usually his thing, but he wore it so adorably. Ryan smiled at him in amusement before clambering away, stretching out all languid across the mess of sheets they'd made. Brendon was staring, intent, then looked actually surprised at his admission about Keltie. As if that was the wildest turn their relationship could have taken. Honestly, if she hadn't been cheating, that would've been more surprising. When he looked at Brendon he couldn't catch his gaze, instead caught with his profile once he deliberately glanced away. Ryan didn't think much of it, figured it was no big deal, and if it was then Ryan had definitely played the same or similar card. They had to ease into this, anyway. She’s crazy. Ryan smiled lazily, thinking that Brendon sounded like such a typical guy blaming any relationship problems on the girl being 'crazy,' but it was sort of accurate. In fairness, though - "So am I," Ryan mumbled, almost defending her by force of habit. "But you probably knew that."

Ryan's question hung in the air for a few moments and he had second thoughts, maybe they weren't really on the same page, maybe Ryan was unreasonably wistful, maybe he should take it back somehow, but then Brendon was moving. Ryan smiled against the back of his hand for a second, watching him come close, then let the hand fall back over his waist, hanging limply. When Brendon hovered near he sort of angled his chin towards him, like he was some magnetic force, absently running his knuckles in a line down Brendon's chest to his navel while Brendon smoothed along his side in turn. I... The distance in his voice was tangible. Ryan wondered what he was thinking, wished he could read his mind this way as easily as he could when they were angry and searching for weak points. He pursed his lips, awed, when Brendon lifted his hand, followed the lines of the map his veins drew, felt oddly appreciated. And this was so, so sickeningly close to holding hands. Ryan shut his eyes for a moment, willing away the dumb thoughts again. I wish.

Did he? Ryan was still torn on thinking maybe this was a joke, he was kidding himself; and even if it wasn't, Brendon probably wasn't as invested as he was turning out to be, just uncharacteristically sparing him the embarrassment by occasionally seeming to be on the same page. Whatever the case may be, he'd still said it in this voice that could only come across as if it held some note of truth, and Ryan's chest swelled again almost painfully. He fumbled with his fingers briefly before they settled, interlaced, between Brendon's, squeezing his hand gently and pulling their joined hands to his lips so he could kiss the back of Brendon's, light and quick. "Brendon," he said after a moment, slightly unnerved by how Brendon's name sounded coming from him now. Different. He sought out Brendon's gaze and held it carefully. "Thank you." He paused, and there was a lot to thank him for, but no words to communicate what. He had to look away, at the ceiling. "You could've told me to fuck off at any point, you know. Endless patience." He'd asked a whole lot of 'why are you here' and such, but never done that outright, so. And it sounded like a joke - but it wasn't, really, and thanking him for one thing was just a stand-in for everything else he'd like to acknowledge.

It was easy to put all of their complex problems down to Ryan’s bruised ego, back when Brendon was recruited to take his place by Spencer and Jon in a not-quite-majority vote (Ryan wasn’t really given a choice), but it would be unfair of him, he thought now, to blame their messed-up relationship and consequently toxic band atmosphere on Ryan alone. Initially, Brendon had been cocky and full of himself to counter Ryan, riling him up for his own amusement because it was so easy and he felt Ryan deserved it for treating him like dirt on the bottom of his shoes. He criticised his singing ability, his lyrics (Brendon deemed them ‘pretentious’ and ‘nonsensical’, amongst other things) and his misfortunate love life. Ryan was, fortunately for Brendon, a serial monogamist who couldn’t quite hold a relationship for longer than, say, six months. Brendon couldn’t say much considering he hadn’t been in a relationship since the band started, not a proper one, but that was out of choice. Ryan just seemed to fuck up every romance he was ever ‘swept away’ on, and Keltie, though more significant and longer lasting than any of his prior relationships, was just another in a long line of failures, and towards the end when this became apparent, Brendon relished in mercilessly mocking him for it. Ryan gave back as good as he got, but Brendon seemed to have the general upper hand recently, until last night happened and suddenly everything was levelled out.

Funny how someone he always wanted as far away from his as possible was so intoxicating now he was finally this close. When Ryan left the bed and headed off towards the window, Brendon had initially reached out as if to, regretting his request, drag him back down, but then he settled as comfortably as he could and let his eyes flutter shut and his vivid memory take him through the events of last night. There was when Ryan first arrived, and Brendon’s initial emotions were just- shock, surprise, what the hell was he doing here, so on and so forth. Brendon had been a mess, appearance wise- shirtless, pyjama pants, his hair a mess, he was all stubbly and rough around the edges, the opposite of the clean-cut, shaven, tidy individual he presented himself to be. A reflex triggered by his though process, Brendon’s hand lifted to scrub over his jaw, grimacing slightly when he felt the stubble against his palm. He reminded himself to shave, them settled back into his memories. Ryan had been drunk already, but had raided the minifridge nevertheless- Brendon reminded himself then, sex or no sex, Ryan still needed to reimburse him for that- and they came to an awkward arrangement on the hotel room couch, Brendon on one end and Ryan steadily going through the tiny bottles on the other.

Brendon had questions, but Ryan just went off on a tangent about Keltie, full of remorse and regret and confusion and Brendon was deeply uncomfortable, preferring Ryan angry than upset, because he could only deal with the former. He uneasily offered some vague insight- which, though not sympathetic, was honest as possible- but then things quickly escalated, as it tended to do when it was Brendon and Ryan, and Brendon was intensely angry at Ryan’s sheer audacity, forcing himself into Brendon’s hotel room, whining about his relationship troubles and still treating him backhandedly, like he was lesser, or something. Brendon’s patience wore thin and it brought him to a seething life, forgetting his inhibitions and, driven partially by alcohol, pushing Ryan practically against a wall with some newfound strength, daring him, challenging him, asking him to take what he really wanted, what Ryan knew he wanted since his even thought about flying to Seattle. And Ryan, to his complete surprise, accepted the dare, surging in to close the minimal space between them and catching him in an angry kiss. It all escalated from there, and everything after that in Brendon’s mind were just hot flashes, skin, recollections that sent shivers down his spine and intensified the ache in his muscles just from the memory.

He was distant, now, and though his eyes were open, he was looking almost distantly at Ryan, coming to the conclusion that he would never look at him the same again. Pointers? Really? Slowly, the animated smile creeped back to Brendon’s face, and he shrugged one shoulder carelessly, still playing with the creased sheets, playing uninterested. ”Hey, don’t worry about it, I don’t judge.” He lifted his head and finally met Ryan’s eyes. In that case... Brendon lifted his eyebrows right back, mind clouding at the mere suggestion of a ‘next time’. He wondered what the circumstances would be then. Next time. Brendon replied with an affirmative nod. ”Anytime, baby.” Ryan then crossed the room and pulled him into a kiss, relatively and regrettably brief before he climbed over Brendon and settled there. He wondered how Ryan could manage the distance when Brendon felt drawn to him. He missed his skin, after mere moments. Embarassing. He resisted following for a while, though, both of them considering Keltie, Brendon with something akin to disdain and disbelief. Probably hypocritical considering he was the ‘other man’ on Ryan’s side, he supposed. So am I. Fair enough, but Brendon was suspicious at how that almost seemed like Ryan jumping to her defense. He looked at him sharply, critically, feeling suddenly the urge to move back and away and demand he leave, what was he doing, this was Ryan. But it passed. Uneasily, he stilled.

But you probably knew that. He nodded. ”You’re pretty, but you’re really, really dumb,” Brendon added on, something almost like affection edging into his low, sleep-rough voice. Finally, he decided he could no longer handle the distance and moved despite the pain to settle beside Ryan, cursing him for making him move instead of having mercy and settling beside him in the first place. Brendon felt despicably childish, like he was tugging on the sleeve of somebody for attention, but the gentle touch against his chest calmed him and he decided against complaining about it. His attention was drawn towards Ryan’s hands, and he knew he was being infuriatingly tactile but he allowed himself to indulge, sighing deeply when he traced his thumb across his calloused guitarist’s hands and came to another realisation; he’d never be able to innocently watch Ryan play guitar ever again. Brendon then went to reluctantly let go but Ryan was interlacing their fingers together and he felt his heart rate spike- He watched, in awe, as Ryan kissed his hand. Brendon. Yes, baby, anything. Thank you. Brendon blinked back at Ryan, unsure, until he looked away. He took the opportunity to lean in and press a kiss against his neck, tucking his head into Ryan’s shoulder.

You could've told me to fuck off at any point, you know. Endless patience. Brendon had since moved a hand to hold his jaw and tilt Ryan’s head back towards him so he could meet him in a kiss, and when he pulled away to hear him speak, he replied by leaning in to kiss him again, smiling against his lips before pulling away. ”Maybe I should’ve told you to fuck off.” Another gentle kiss. ”I’d be able to like, walk, then.” He shifted as if to demonstrate his point, wincing. ”You’re trouble.”

Hey, don’t worry about it, I don’t judge. Brendon, Ryan decided suddenly and with clarity, was stupid. But he was kind of funny, so Ryan laughed begrudgingly, shaking his head incredulously. "Whatever you say. I don't need any pointers. You'll feel me for weeks." But he couldn't say that without laughing, either, so Ryan grinned again through another rush of breath. Despite the kidding around the premise of a next time was very appealing - or at least it was at the moment. Who's to say how they'd feel in a couple weeks' time, or maybe even less? Brendon and Ryan, when it came to one another, were known to flip a switch pretty quickly. For now, though, appealing. Anytime, baby. That chance that maybe they wouldn't feel so inclined come some time for rationality and logical thinking disappeared in his mind when he met Brendon in another kiss, simple and short but something like sealing a deal, confirming that promise permanently.

Ryan's natural reaction to criticism of Keltie was to almost-defend her (not that he'd be so withheld, say, a day ago; he could at least pretend to care in full when they were still mutually together, defend as much as he was able) and Brendon gave him a sharp look almost instantly. Ryan swore he recoiled somewhat himself, but there wasn't much space to do so, must've been in his head. For a moment he was afraid maybe that was it, that was the end of the line, he'd found the point where this became unacceptable to Brendon... for whatever reason. Was Brendon jealous? If this were any other time Ryan would relish in the thought of that. He'd gotten Brendon jealous with such a tiny display. Now, it was just a little confusing. Brendon clearly had no idea what superiority he held. Maybe he and Ryan weren't together and never had been, but they had an understanding, some weird unspoken connection that he didn't feel with his now ex-girlfriend. The magnetism between him and Brendon was palpable, but when it was him and Keltie, nothing. Just Keltie's initial, contagious infatuation, stretched out beyond its time of death. Thankfully, Brendon didn't say a word, even if Ryan could tell there was still an edge neither of them dared mention.

You’re pretty, but you’re really, really dumb. Something about his voice. Ryan would be offended, but - he was so glad Brendon was coming close again, catching him with welcoming arms, endeared by that fondness in his sleepy voice. He locked their hands together, gentle and forgiving, pulling the joint hands to his lips until he kissed the back of Brendon's. With that, obviously eye contact was out of the question. They were complicated like that. Ryan kept looking nervously away while Brendon leaned to kiss his neck, shutting his eyes tight when Brendon came to rest his head comfortably in the crook of Ryan's shoulder. He'd been practically single for a while, now, but this felt startlingly close to boyfriends, and that... wasn't the first time Ryan was thinking that. The more he got that intrusive thought stuck in his mind, the less scary it became, but Brendon's reaction if he were psychic was definitely terrifying to think about. Maybe he should distance himself from this weird, overly affectionate behavior, then.

Ryan maintained a level of discomfort with their sensitive circumstances, keeping his gaze away, but Brendon's hand came to wrap gently around his jaw and drag him back over. Ryan went with no fight, exhaling softly against Brendon's lips before kissing back, feeling something like relief. Maybe I should’ve told you to fuck off. Ryan didn't quite respond to the next kiss, thinking more 'what the hell is he onto.' I’d be able to like, walk, then. Oh. Ryan visibly relaxed, a soft smile gracing his features while he watched Brendon grimace even after the tiniest amount of effort. You’re trouble. "Oh, yeah?" He turned a bit more on his side, reaching out until his bicep acted as a pillow for Brendon's head and his forearm wrapped around his shoulder. He squeezed his arm, endeared, searching his face again. "You're kind of trouble, too. I'm sure I won't have a Brendon-free thought for a while." God. A little while ago, that was sort of true, but they were remarkably different kinds of thoughts then. "Not that I mind."

There was a certain anxious energy thrumming below the surface, which Ryan supposed was pretty typical of him, but still. Concerning. His eyes dropped to Brendon's lips, considering, and wondered how exactly to phrase all of his curiosity. 'What are we?' That sounded a lot like asking... if they'd be something established, and if he asked that, there was the chance that it'd come off as if he was proposing something established. Maybe he'd do it if he didn't have such a clear image in his head of Brendon looking horrified in response. After a pause he pursed his lips, thoughtful. "What now?" He stroked the thumb wrapped around Brendon's shoulder over his skin carefully, wondering how the hell to expand. "I know it's stupid, but. I can't see myself acting the same." Like they hated each other. Which he supposed they probably did, and he'd probably remember as soon as he wasn't inches away from kissing him again.

Whatever you say. Brendon arched an eyebrow at him from where he lay, trying to occupy his hands with something else now that they couldn’t be on Ryan’s skin, feeling the heat and thrum of his pulse and tracing the muscle definition he’d never really noticed until twenty-four hours ago when worked desperately to get Ryan’s shirt off and had the pleasure of being able to indulge his kinaesthetic senses. Not that he’d never seen Ryan like that before- they were in a band together on a small tour bus, for god’s sake, he’d seen more of band members than he wanted to- but that was obviously different. Last night he’d had the freedom to satisfy close to every single closely hidden and guarded carnal urge he had regarding Ryan and now it was impossible to think of him in any other way- especially because the bruises (they were dark and plentiful- damn, Brendon really went for it, didn’t he) were plain to see and when he turned, there were scratches down his back; those he’d asked for and Brendon had been all too glad to deliver. Brendon wasn’t sure what he looked like but he imagined he was in a similar state. Ryan really was gorgeous like this. Brendon picked at the sheets, sighing. I don’t need any pointers.

Lifting his head again to laugh softly, Brendon pretended to consider this, but pretending quickly lead to actually thinking about it, and the more he did, the more he realised that he really couldn’t fault Ryan for much. It was slightly ridiculous, almost grading Ryan based on last night. ”Actually, you do,” He countered, voice all matter-of-fact, ”But you know what, I’ll let you off. I’m gonna assume it was because you were drunk and therefore not at top performance. If you catch my meaning,” His last sentence trailed off into barely concealed laughter and he waved a dismissive hand, biting his lip to prevent himself from breaking out into a Cheshire grin. You’ll feel me for weeks. With that, he immediately opened his mouth and moved to try an sit up so he could protest, but the immediate pain he felt coupled with a visible cringe made him check himself and pause for a second, begrudging. I can’t argue with that,” He muttered, sliding back down against the headboard. ”Oh, fuck, I’ll have to walk like a dumbass for days. Will people be able to tell? I can never- tell if they can.”

Brendon wasn’t usually one to get embarrassed or be conservative or bashful about these kinds of things, but the situation made it a little more vital that he could figure out how to walk normally and be as mobile as usual on stage. The timing- if anyone saw straight through him, they might then suspect Ryan, who also had a very slightly off gait- he shook his head, told himself he was being ridiculous, it was fine, nobody would ever expect Brendon and Ryan because they were supposed to hate eachother, be disgusted by eachother. God, Spencer and Jon would have a field day if they found out about this- so they couldn’t. Brendon hoped that was a given and he didn’t have to have such a conversation with Ryan- ‘Hey Ryan, you know how we kind of had sex? Just saying, don’t tell anyone’. Either he’d be weirdly offended because Ryan was a Virgo and just like that, or he’d be disgusted at the prospect of anybody even knowing about it anyway. Brendon knew he shouldn’t care about the latter outcome but somehow he was frightened of it. That being said, it was hard to worry when they were in their little fantasy world in Seattle, and Ryan had kissed the back of his hand like some kind of prince, and Brendon had moved in to comfortably settle his head in the crook of Ryan’s neck after pressing insistent kisses everywhere he could reach.

This was a lot. Brendon tried not to think about it, tried to get out of his head by dragging Ryan into another kiss, but then they were settling comfortably, Brendon’s head resting on Ryan’s bicep. He exhaled, feeling both suffocated and completely at home in Ryan’s arms. Oh, yeah? Brendon nodded without question. You’re kind of trouble, too. They were both nothing but trouble for the other but at this point both of them clearly thought it was worth it. Brendon smiled, small. You're kind of trouble, too. I'm sure I won't have a Brendon-free thought for a while. Meeting his eyes seriously, Brendon searched Ryan’s face. Not that I mind. He laughed, moving his free hand and letting his fingers dance over Ryan’s collarbone and up to his neck, tracing bruises and then moving up to curl affectionately into his hair. ”I should hope not.” His voice was soft, oddly gentle even though they should be used to that kind of tenderness by now, having overloaded eachother with fine feelings in a very short space of time. Brendon reckoned it was only a matter of time before one of them cracked under the pressure and this promise of a new foundation crumbled.

But, whatever. There was no use in worrying, right? Brendon sighed and as Ryan’s eyes dropped down to his mouth, the corner of his own mouth quirked and he dutifully did the same, eyeing Ryan’s mouth and considering going in for another sweet kiss but he could tell Ryan unfortunately had something to say. What could possibly be more important than- What now? Oh. Brendon’s eyebrows raised after he processed this, and he laughed, disbelieving, shifting so he was slightly more on top of Ryan and leaning in to catch his bottom lip between his teeth for just a second. ”I dunno, how much time we got before took service gets here?” I know it's stupid, but. I can't see myself acting the same. Huh. It seemed he had drastically misread the subtext there. Disappointed, Brendon moved off and sat cross-legged beside Ryan now, poking him absently in the side with his foot. ”Yeah, me neither, but- I don’t know, I’m not sure, I’ve not had much time to think.” He paused, eyes lifting from where they were fixed on the sheets and looking Ryan quickly up and down before he met his eyes. He laughed hopelessly. ”I thought this-“ He gestured vaguely to Ryan, to them, to the bed, to the room- ”Would be all that we wanted.” He dragged a hand down the side of his face, no longer sure of himself.

Actually, you do. Ryan dragged his hand over his face. This was who he chose to run to in the midst of a barely quarter-life crisis? But you know what, I’ll let you off. I’m gonna assume it was because you were drunk and therefore not at top performance. If you catch my meaning. Ryan rolled his eyes and faced him, smirking, reserved in comparison to Brendon's real, failed to suppress laughter. "Well, I'm sober now, so I guess we'll have to try again." He raised his eyebrows challengingly, reaching out to playfully bat some of Brendon's hair out of place. He defended himself regardless, and it seemed to work - he laughed outright, softly, at Brendon's immediate cringe. I can’t argue with that. Oh, fuck, I’ll have to walk like a dumbass for days. Ryan cracked up more, an image already in his head. Will people be able to tell? I can never- tell if they can. "I'm sure you'll be okay. On the bright side, when I'm sober, I remember the whole 'aftercare' part. I'm nice." He tilted his head at Brendon, grinning.

For a moment Brendon met his gaze more seriously than Ryan anticipated, and he returned it a little dazedly until Brendon was laughing, fingers finding their way fondly into his hair. Ryan relaxed, oddly comfortable just maintaining the eye contact, searching the coffee-colored depths he'd never thought were all that special until now. There was a particular way his eyes crinkled up with his smile that he had noted before, but in this moment it was sweet, endearing. I should hope not. And he really wasn't lying when he said it - he would be thinking about Brendon constantly. He'd done it a lot before - occupying spaces of time where nothing else was on his mind by coming up with new ways to mess with him, or picking on comments he made offhandedly, finding the strangest ways to start a fight just because it made him feel less small, whatever. Now he didn't have the slightest inclination to do that... but he supposed they both flipped a switch pretty fast anyway. One wrong comment here and he'd be storming out or Brendon would despite this being his room in the first place.

And maybe there was another way to flip that switch - being too direct when they were in a very vulnerable position. Brendon laughed incredulously at his vague question and Ryan tensed up, preparing to ignore how comfortable he was and storm out or something, snap back at him if he got any shit for being too sensitive. It was brief, though, because Brendon was moving over him, catching his lip easily, and Ryan relaxed a little, still on edge just in case. I dunno, how much time we got before took service gets here? Ryan rolled his eyes - good question, they needed something to distract them from being more and more stupid anyway - but clarified his meaning rather than backing down. Which would probably have been the wise thing to do. This conversation could have waited until they weren't peacefully together, wrapped around each other as if they'd been like this forever rather than enemies turned, at least for a night, to lovers.

Brendon shifted off and Ryan watched him, feeling far too exposed, pursing his lips when Brendon prodded him in the side. Yeah, me neither, but- I don’t know, I’m not sure, I’ve not had much time to think. Glad they were on the same page. Brendon's gaze swept over him and he had the sense to be self-conscious until they were making eye contact, and Ryan willed him to magically have the words to make all of this okay, reassure him that maybe this could stay as perfect as it seemed on the surface. I thought this... Ryan followed the sweep of his hand, uncertain. ...would be all that we wanted. Oh. He would've cringed if he wasn't so aware of Brendon's attention on him. As it were Ryan stayed still, blinking at him for a moment before turning his gaze to the ceiling. All that we wanted? Was Brendon saying 'we' for Ryan's sake or for his own? He could risk saying that there could be more, risk his own fragile pride, or just let it be, live a lie for a while until he inevitably could settle for less more easily.

He'd been silent for too long, Ryan knew, so he steeled himself to say something - anything - when a few knocks sounded at the door, and Ryan kind of thanked fucking God. He sat up fast, retrieving a complimentary robe from the back of the bathroom door and pulling it on loosely before opening the room's door, greeted by the cart of their ridiculous order. A paranoid inclination from the back of his mind urged him to glance around the hall, as if someone would be waiting to catch him in the act, but the only person to be seen was an attendant delivering more orders to other rooms a few doors down. Before he could think too hard about why he was so worried, Ryan pulled the cart in and shut the door, presenting their bountious amount of carbs to Brendon in the grandest fashion possible as if he hadn't just dodged the most uncomfortable conversation of all time. "Check it. I call blueberry." Ryan moved the tray onto the mattress, very considerate of Brendon's condition, and leaned over him to retrieve his coffee from the nightstand.

He took a long drink from the paper cup, shutting his eyes, until 'all that we wanted' was no longer in his head. "And I think I've found our new tour costumes, whenever we rebrand. This is absolutely a look." Ryan lifted his arms, gesturing to the robe tied loosely around his waist, hanging half-open over his chest since he'd thrown it on so carelessly. He climbed onto the bed, crossing his legs and securing his cup in his lap before going for a blueberry pancake, tearing off a bite in his hands.