One thing about this new dynamic between them: Ryan no longer had Brendon figured out. He probably didn't [i]before,[/i] but then he didn't put much thought into the matter - it was simpler when he was safe in believing that all he could do was hate him, that that was the only capacity in him (except those times he had to ignore every lusting thought or momentary affection, which tended to complicate things until he could push it all to the back of his mind and go on hating). Now he knew there was more to it, and in turn, more at stake, and suddenly it was much less clear to him how to go about talking to Brendon, how to win an upper hand or how to even stay balanced. At this point, Brendon tended to get to him at every turn, was far better at this than him. Ryan presumed it just meant none of this affected him as heavily at first, but in all honesty he was just more of a character than Ryan. If they were on the same page, Brendon would handle it all ten times better. 

And he was definitely more stable than Ryan. Surprisingly. Brendon, who regularly threw fits in their tiny, cramped bus because he'd lost a hoodie or something, was less snippy and sulky about their newfound issues for God knows what reason. It's like they'd switched roles, and Ryan hated it. Even now he was being more rational than Ryan, could practically read his mind. [i]Oh, really?[/i] Ryan stiffened defensively at the challenging tone, knowing he couldn't dispute it without being entirely transparent. He was a horrific liar, yeah, whatever. [i]Can I ask, Ryan, what were your plans, assuming you and I would be alone on the bus?[/i] Ryan glared at him, and the truth was that he'd been expecting the bus to be fully empty when he got here, but really. When he saw the light on from outside and known it was Brendon, his mind jumped to predictable places and he'd felt that now-familiar twist in his chest, and somehow Brendon knew that. Transparent. Ryan ran his bottom lip between his teeth after a moment, closing his eyes for a beat and looking sick of this already. He figured it was easier not to answer at all.

But his avoiding like that was only making matters worse. When he got scared of what they could potentially have, when he saw them getting closer to it, he stepped away, put a space between them and made it look like he wanted to. He absolutely didn't. If Ryan wasn't so terrified of what could come of him giving in to what every natural instinct had turned into around Brendon, of letting their entire relationship do a complete one-eighty, he'd be letting him in to every thought that crossed his mind and opening himself up to being beside him constantly. It'd be Seattle everyday, basically. But to stay safe and comfortable, he had to look like he had nothing invested in this, like nothing mattered. He may not be the better actor between them, but he was still fairly sure his point was getting across, that he was vaguely convincing. Brendon seemed to believe it, and was actually looking more defeated by the dynamic by the minute- kind of worrying. If he was already done enough to start finding a boyfriend or  whatever Ian was, then surely something Ryan was doing was wrong, despite figuring originally that it was in Brendon's best interest to hide this, too. 

After having to look away to avoid seeing Brendon visibly go through the motions of defeat, Ryan caught him [i]checking his phone,[/i] right now of all times. Probably that Ian guy. Ryan practically felt his chest sink and his temperature rise at the thought, ridiculously. But that was all temporary; moments later he was learning how Brendon genuinely didn't believe he cared about him, and sure that was believable but Ryan had never thought that it was necessary to express it. If he thought about it he realized he'd never really even thought about whether Brendon cared about [i]him,[/i] but that was only because he never had any reason to believe that he did or didn't, and if Brendon was having doubts now then it must be that Ryan was big enough of an asshole to convince him that he wouldn't mind whether he was around or not. In reality, Brendon took up about ninety percent of his thoughts, consumed probably as much of his free time be it with him physically or writing about him or trying to see him, etc. He would care if something happened to him, and he cared about what he thought and what he opined, and generally he just gave a fuck - couldn't express it, though, lest both of them undergo a huge change. Or maybe he was just a coward in his own right.

In these rare moments where he dragged up the courage to do it, though, like that entire honest time in Seattle, he knew he was hard to believe no matter how genuine he was. Brendon definitely looked unconvinced. [i]You sure you’re not just worried they won’t save a piece for you?[/i] Ryan shut his eyes again, shaking his head less in annoyance and now just disappointed in himself for leading Brendon this far astray from the truth. All because he was scared of change. [i]Funny how it took you seeing me making out with some other guy to even say that to me.[/i] Ryan's original abrasive composure had broken, now apologetic and trying hard to keep it under wraps; it'd likely just make Brendon more cynical if he saw the remorse on his face and couldn't discern whether it was real or not. [i]You’ve actually [/i]met [i]Ian before. I introduced him. I hung off his arm and he touched my waist and you didn’t even notice because you don’t fucking care if there’s anything emotional going on, as long he doesn’t take your fucking fuck buddy away from you, it’s fine.[/i] Ryan regarded him more carefully, recognizing how hurt he felt with ease and feeling it hard, reflected back. He couldn't [i]help,[/i] couldn't fix it, and he was the cause. It was hell.

[b]"Don't make assumptions if you're going to be that far off the mark,"[/b] he said, quieter, shifting his gaze away uncomfortably. Clearly he'd dodged touch too much, climbed away too quickly when they woke up together, because Brendon knew a person who was completely not him, not someone anyone who'd ever known Ryan had met. He was deathly sorry that Brendon was apparently the first to see that side of him, the first to be presented with that impostor. [i]Yes, it is, because we don’t do anything else but that.[/i] True. Ryan almost argued that if he was given the choice Brendon probably wouldn't want to go out on some date night, either, but. It wasn't him being unfair - it was the circumstances in general. [i]What is it to you, then, Ryan? I’m all ears. Got all night. You ruined my original plans.[/i] Ryan watched him back towards the couch and collapse onto it, the conversation (confrontation) clearly breaking his spirit, and wished he had an answer.

In his head he had some monologue going. 'Maybe I [i]want[/i] to be boyfriends,' 'maybe I [i]wish[/i] it could be more,' so forth. He nearly argued that Brendon had never shown any sign of it being something more to [i]him[/i] - but then he was the one finding an Ian. He wasn't the one throwing a fit about no exclusivity, he wasn't the one calling them something they weren't, wasn't the one making claims. Brendon, in fact, looked like he [i]hated[/i] him, a look he was very used to but somehow now he felt it in his core. [i]Moving fucking speech, but forgive me for not believing you.[/i] Ryan instantly blushed, embarrassed when he'd been truthful and it didn't go over well. He hadn't been expecting open arms, or anything, but still hadn't prepard himself for mortification. [i]Why the fuck should I not think you’re just doing this to do your permanent hard-on a favour?[/i] Ryan shoved his face in his hands, bewildered by how far astray Brendon had been led from knowing what kind of person he really was, how he [i]really[/i] wasn't like that but somehow had put on a convincing enough show to seem like it. All to save them from exposure. Somehow it didn't seem worth it anymore.

[i]Speaking of which, will you leave me alone in return for me sucking your dick? ‘Cause that’s clearly all you want.[/i] Ryan took his face from his hands and dropped them at his sides, looking at Brendon disbelievingly. [b]"I didn't know,"[/b] he said, then paused, shutting his eyes and steadying his voice. He wasn't angry at Brendon, he reminded himself - he was angry with himself for screwing up his chances this bad, for fucking up Brendon's perception of him so much. [b]"I didn't know how badly I misled you. If you really think I'm like that, then I fucked up beyond [i]belief,[/i] Brendon, and I'm sorry. I thought- I thought I was being convincing for other people, I didn't think it was- I didn't mean to hurt you."[/b] He dropped his gaze to the floor, toying with his hands anxiously, his brow furrowed with distress. [b]"I'm sorry about Ian."[/b]